"This is the place."
The words left Pardofelis's lips like a whisper, barely audible over the distant hum of Twilight Street's underbelly.
Raiden i stood before the rusted iron gates of a dilapidated courtyard, her breath steady but her nerves taut. The journey here had been anything but pleasant. Every step through the gri-coated streets had been a reminder of just how far this place had fallen—how deep the rot had seeped into its foundations.
The orphanage before her was a relic of better days, its crumbling walls and cracked pavent telling stories of neglect. Yet, against all odds, life thrived within.
Children's laughter rang through the air, bright and unburdened—so starkly out of place in this den of shadows.
i's fingers twitched at her side.
She had seen horrors in her ti—wars waged, cities razed, the abyss of human cruelty laid bare. But Twilight Street was different. It wasn't the destruction of battle; it was the slow, gnawing decay of hope.
The alleys here were not just dark—they were alive with nace.
Eyes, too many eyes, watched from the crevices. Hungry. Calculating. So were hollow, already dead despite the bodies they were attached to. Others burned with a feral desperation, the kind that made even a seasoned warrior hesitate.
Don't look.
The warning echoed in her mind, but her senses betrayed her.
A flicker of movent—a skeletal figure slumped against a wall, needle still embedded in their vein. Flies sward over sunken flesh, feasting on what little remained.
Further down, two addicts twitched in their own private hell, limbs tangled in a grotesque mockery of intimacy.
i's stomach turned.
She had walked through the aftermath of Honkai eruptions, through cities reduced to ash. But this? This was worse.
Because this was humanity doing this to itself.
And the worst part?
The children playing in the courtyard didn't even seem to notice.
To them, this was normal.
The boundary between light and shadow here wasn't just a line—it was a chasm. A divide between those who still had a chance and those who had long since surrendered.
i exhaled slowly, forcing herself to focus.
Her gaze drifted toward the small, crumbling chapel at the far end of the courtyard. Its wooden door hung crookedly, one hinge missing entirely. The structure looked like a strong breeze could topple it.
And yet, it stood.
Just like the woman now walking toward it.
Aponia.
She moved with an eerie grace, her steps silent against the cracked pavent. A rusted tal bucket swung lightly in her grip, water sloshing over its edges.
Then, as if sensing i's presence, she stopped.
Turned.
Their eyes t.
And for the first ti in years, Raiden i felt true, instinctive fear.
"!!!"
Her body moved before her mind could catch up—muscles tensing, feet shifting into a defensive stance. Her fingers twitched toward the weapon at her hip, the blade that had replaced Ushiwakamaru—a weapon born from the Thunder Herrscher's fading authority, humming with lethal energy.
But she didn't draw it.
Couldn't.
Because those eyes—
Empty.
Unfocused.
Just like his.
A cold sweat broke across her skin.
Several seconds passed in silence before i realized—
Aponia was now standing right in front of her.
Less than three ters away.
When had she gotten so close?
Why hadn't i noticed?
Her pulse hamred in her throat.
Was this so kind of ability? A trick of perception?
Or—
Was it just her own mind betraying her?
The psychological scars left by Lingke ran deeper than she'd realized.
"Hah…"
She forced a slow breath, steadying herself.
This wasn't Lingke.
This was Aponia.
The sa woman from the Elysian Realm, though stripped of her butterfly wings, her divine aura muted.
Yet those eyes…
"Is this what happens to those who see too much of the future?" i wondered.
But no—Lingke's eyes had been sharp, aware.
These were different.
These were the eyes of soone who had stopped looking.
Or worse—soone who had seen sothing they couldn't unsee.
"Visitor?"
Aponia's voice was soft, almost lodic.
i blinked, realizing she hadn't responded.
"Sorry, I—"
She cut herself off, suddenly aware of the absence at her side.
Pardofelis was gone.
Of course—they'd planned this. The catgirl had slipped away the mont Aponia appeared, circling around to observe from a safer distance.
Sure enough, a flicker of movent caught i's eye—a tuft of fur the sa color as Pardo's hair, peeking out from behind a crumbling wall. A cat perched atop her head, tail flicking lazily.
Typical.
i almost smiled.
Almost.
Because then Aponia spoke again.
"If you have business here, you may co inside."
She gestured toward the chapel, the rusted bucket still in hand.
"Lost traveler, believe…"
"Our Lord shall guide you on your path forward."
The words were pious, serene.
But sothing about them sent a chill down i's spine.
It wasn't just the cadence—it was the certainty behind them.
As if Aponia already knew why she was here.
As if she'd been waiting.
i swallowed hard.
In the Elysian Realm, Aponia's "Please" had carried the weight of inevitability. A gentle command wrapped in kindness.
But this Aponia?
She hadn't yet beco a MANTIS. She shouldn't have the power to impose Taboos.
Right?
"Forgive the intrusion."
i stepped forward, following her inside.
---
anwhile, Elsewhere…
The last echoes of Eden's concert had long since faded.
Nagazora's night market was alive with energy, stalls glowing under strings of paper lanterns. The scent of sizzling at and sweet sauces filled the air, mingling with the chatter of the crowd.
Lingke moved through it all with lazy amusent, arms laden with snacks.
Grilled skewers, still dripping with glaze.
Plump takoyaki, steam rising from their crispy shells.
A paper boat of sushi, balanced precariously atop the rest.
"Ah, the perks of a superhuman tabolism," he mused, popping a skewer into his mouth. "Eat all you want, never gain weight."
He smirked, licking a drop of sauce from his thumb.
Then—
His steps slowed.
A flicker of awareness at the edge of his senses.
His grin widened.
"Tch. And here I was hoping for a break."
"Guess 'Act Two' is starting early"
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