Dungeon Break Chapter 6 Skill Orbs (Patreon)

Residential Shelter, Kuoh Park Safe Zone, Kuoh, Japan

The residential shelter tent stretched across a wide section of Kuoh Park. Rows of futons had been laid across the ground with barely enough space between them for people to walk. Dim lanterns hung from the tent poles and cast dull yellow light across the exhausted crowd.

Issei lay on his back on one of the futons, staring up at the fabric ceiling. Around him the shelter was filled with quiet suffering as some people slept out of pure exhaustion. Others trembled beneath blankets. A woman quietly cried while holding a small child against her chest. Several injured civilians lay wrapped in bandages while volunteer medics checked their wounds. He watched as a woman, three futons over, rocking back and forth, her eyes fixed on a wall that was no longer there. The air was thick with the scent of unwashed bodies and the sharp tang of antiseptic.

Issei slowly exhaled as his chest felt tight. ‘Guess not everyone was lucky…’ He had found his family safe and sound but many people here had not. Some were still waiting. Some already knew the answer.

Another man nearby sat completely still while staring at nothing. Another person quietly whispered prayers.

Issei clenched his fingers slightly. ‘This world really did change…’ He shifted his body and glanced down at his left arm where the red gauntlet still covered it. The strange armor looked just as intimidating as when it first appeared. The surface of the metal had small patterns carved along it and faint red energy pulsed within the lines.

Issei frowned. “…What am I supposed to do with this thing?” He lifted the arm and rotated his wrist with the gauntlet moving naturally with his hand. It didn’t feel heavy at all but it was still there. ‘Haku-san said it’s called a Sacred Gear…’ The name sounded important but he had no idea how to use it.

“Will I have to live with this thing forever… When will it go away?” The moment the thought crossed his mind, the gauntlet vanished causing Issei to blink as his arm dropped slightly. “…Huh?”

He looked down at his hand. It was completely normal again. Issei quickly sat upright. “Wait… what?” He stared at his empty hand in confusion. 

‘Did I just…’ He focused again. ‘Come back.’ Red light burst across his hand and the gauntlet instantly formed around his arm again.

Issei’s eyes widened. “Whoa.” He flexed his fingers and again the armor responded perfectly. “…So it listens to me?”

He thought about making it disappear again and the gauntlet vanished. “…No way.” Issei scratched the back of his head. ‘That’s actually really convenient.’

He tested it a few more times. Summoning and Disappearing. Each time it reacted immediately to his thoughts.

“…Okay that’s actually awesome.” He stopped experimenting before anyone nearby started staring at him as several people were already stressed enough and he didn’t want to cause more attention.

Issei leaned back slightly on the futon again. Then another memory surfaced. “Oh right…” To distract himself from the shivering survivors around him, he reached into his pocket and his fingers touched the small object he had forgotten about earlier, the yellow marble. He pulled it out and held it up in front of his eyes. The marble was small, perfectly round and smooth, looking perfectly ordinary. But when he rotated it under the lantern light, something inside it shimmered faintly.

“…Why did I even pick this up?” He remembered grabbing it earlier after the fight. At the time it had felt important. Now he wasn’t sure why.

Issei rolled it between his fingers, feeling its warmth. “…Weird.” He brought it closer to his face while examining it. Then he leaned back slightly and the marble brushed lightly against his chest.

And suddenly the marble dissolved as it sank directly into his body.

“WHAT THE—?!” Issei shot upright violently. The futon beneath him shifted as he jumped and clawed at his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs. 

A few nearby refugees jumped, startled by his sudden outburst. An elderly man glared at him, while a child began to cry harder. Several others immediately looked at him. 

“Are you okay?!”

“What happened?”

“Did something bite you?!”

Issei froze and his brain scrambled to answer the worried gazes of suffering survivors. ‘ACT NORMAL.’

“…Uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry! I uh… thought I saw a bug…”

The nearby civilians slowly returned to their own business. But one old man gave him a suspicious look before lying back down again.

Issei slowly lowered himself back onto the futon and his heart pounded. ‘THE MARBLE WENT INTO MY BODY.’ He quickly looked down at his chest but nothing, no hole, no sudden mark.

“…Where did it go?!” Issei questioned but then suddenly a powerful scent slammed into his nose and Issei gagged. “Ugh—!” The smell hit him like a physical blow, blood. 

A wave of iron and salt crashed over his senses, the scent of blood came from everywhere as his nose burned and Issei quickly covered his face immediately. “W-What the hell?!”

The smell was overwhelming as it surrounded him, coming from every direction. The wounded civilians, the bandaged soldiers, blood soaked cloth, the dried blood on uniforms, fresh wounds, old wounds. The smell filled the air within a wide radius around him.

His stomach churned violently. “Why does everything smell like blood?!” He squeezed his eyes shut and his head spun. His breathing became uneven and for several minutes he struggled to endure the overwhelming scent.

But slowly, his body began adjusting, his breathing stabilized and the scent remained strong. But it no longer made him nauseous.

Thirty minutes passed and Issei sat in a trance of sensory overload. But by then the smell had faded into the background of his senses, he could still detect it clearly. But it no longer overwhelmed him and made him want to vomit.

Issei slowly lowered his hands from his nose. “…Okay.” He sniffed slightly and his eyes widened again. ‘I can still smell it…’ He looked toward a wounded man lying several meters away. His Blood, he could smell it. Then he turned his head toward another direction and more blood from several soldiers returning from the battlefield.

His eyes widened. “…No way.” He slowly stood up. Then he turned his head left and right with the smell changed depending on direction. “Did that marble give me this?” His mind raced through the possibilities as he rubbed his chin. He sniffed the air again and the scent of blood remained extremely clear. “…Yeah that’s definitely new.”

Issei leaned against one of the support poles of the tent and his thoughts spun rapidly. ‘Sacred Gear, Magic, Youkai, Monsters. Now strange marbles that gave him abilities. What the hell kind of world did we wake up in today?’ Before he could think deeper—

A shadow fell over him and Issei looked up.

A JSDF soldier stood over him, his face set in a professional, neutral mask. He held a clipboard, but his eyes were fixed on Issei’s left arm, the place where the gauntlet had been moments ago. The man looked tired but focused. “Issei Hyoudou?”

Issei blinked. “…Yeah?”

The soldier nodded once. “I need you to come with me.”

Issei frowned slightly. “…Did I do something wrong?” He asked unsure.

The soldier shook his head. “No.” He turned slightly and gestured toward the outside to the command area deeper inside the park. “Some of my superiors have requested a meeting. There are questions regarding your arrival at the perimeter and the... equipment you were seen using."

Issei swallowed and stomach tightened slightly. “…Oh.” He slowly stood up from the futon as his mind raced. ‘What do they want with me?’ He didn’t feel like following but refusing military orders during a crisis sounded like a terrible idea. “…Okay.”

The soldier nodded. “Follow me, please.”

Issei began walking behind him through the crowded shelter. His thoughts churned with uncertainty. ‘What exactly do they want from me…?’

—------------------------------------------

Meanwhile Around the World

Across the world, as chaos continued to spread and cities burned. Soldiers fought desperate battles as monsters poured from portals that had torn open the sky. And in many places, something strange began happening after the monsters died.

After defeating a monster, some survivors noticed something unusual near the fallen bodies, small marbles that came in different colors. Each one resting near the corpse of a monster as if the creature had dropped it.

Most people ignored them. But a few felt an unexplainable pull toward the strange objects. And those who touched them… began to change.

—---------------------------------------------

Shanghai, China

The ruined streets of Shanghai were covered in broken, jagged glass and shattered concrete. Several overturned cars burned near a collapsed storefront and a large insect-like corpse lay in the middle of the road. 

The monster was a nightmare of chitin and blades. Its body resembled a giant mantis, nearly two meters long, but its four scythe-like forearms were now cracked and bent at impossible angles. Standing over the remains, thirteen-year-old Chun-Li struggled to pull oxygen into her lungs.

Her brown hair, usually pinned neatly into twin buns, was frayed and matted with dust. Her qipao was shredded, revealing thin, weeping cuts across her shoulders. She slowly lowered her fists, her knuckles swollen to a dark, angry purple.

"That thing... finally went down." She wiped a mixture of sweat and grit from her forehead, her breath hitching in her chest.

The engagement had been a blur of lethal precision. The mantis had moved with a terrifying, skittering speed, its bladed arms slicing through reinforced steel street signs as if they were wet paper. More than once, the whistle of a blade had brushed against her skin, a hair’s breadth from taking her head. Only years of grueling martial arts training and luck had kept her alive. 

She stepped forward and kicked the monster’s head once but it did not move. “It really is dead.”

The adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a crushing ache in her marrow. Chun-Li sank against a scorched brick wall, resting her bruised arms on her knees. "I actually did it..." She watched her chest rise and fall, trying to steady her racing pulse. As the dust settled, a glint of color caught her eye.

Near the monster’s body, a small yellow marble rested on the pavement.

Chun-Li’s brow furrowed. "What is that?" Curiosity overrode her exhaustion. She pushed herself back to her feet, her joints popping, and limped toward the object.

The marble sat in a pool of dark ichor, glowing with a faint, rhythmic pulse in the afternoon light. She reached down, picking it up and rolling the smooth surface between her fingers. It was unnervingly warm, vibrating with a low-frequency hum that resonated through her bones.

‘Why do I feel like I should touch this?’ A localized desire, sharp and magnetic, pulled at her mind.

She lifted it closer to her face, peering into the translucent yellow depths. Without a conscious thought, her hand drifted toward her chest. The moment the marble made contact with her fabric, it didn't bounce off; it began to liquefy. A stream of molten yellow light flowed through her clothes and sank directly into her skin.

Chun-Li’s eyes snapped wide. "What?!"

Panic flared. She jumped backward instinctively, wanting to put distance between herself and the strange light. Her legs coiled and snapped against the pavement with a force she didn't intend. Suddenly, the street dropped away.

She launched upward, soaring several meters into the air. "HEY—!"

The world blurred. She cleared the height of a two-story building in a single, effortless bound. She slammed onto a rooftop with a heavy thud, the ceramic tiles shattering into dust under the sheer impact of her landing. Chun-Li stared down at the street below, her jaw hanging open.

"...I jumped that high?"

Her heart hammered against her ribs, but it wasn't just from fear. It was power. She knelt, pressing her palms against her thighs. Her muscles felt denser, humming with a new, kinetic energy. 

‘Did that marble do this...?’

Distant, guttural roars echoed through the canyons of the city. More monsters were emerging from the fractures, their cries a challenge to the survivors below. Chun-Li stood upright, her silhouette sharp against the smoke. The pain in her knuckles was still there, but it felt distant now.

A fierce, determined expression hardened her features. "...Good."

She cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the quiet air. "Let’s see what else I can do."

She turned and leapt back toward the street. Her body moved with a predatory grace, a blur of motion that far outstripped the human limits she had known only an hour before. In the ruins of Shanghai, a Champion was finding her stride.

—----------------------------------

Mexico City, Mexico

The sun was choked out by palls of black smoke rising from the Zocalo. Mexico City, once a vibrant heart of culture, had transformed into a slaughterhouse of screaming metal and tearing flesh. The streets of Mexico City were filled with chaos as people ran through the roads while monsters chased them. Gunshots echoed between buildings as people desperately tried to fight back.

A seventeen-year-old boy, his black hair matted with sweat and soot, sprinted through a narrow alleyway. His sneakers skidded over discarded lottery tickets and broken glass.

“¡Maldita sea!” He screamed, his voice cracking as behind him, a demonic creature, an Ashwing Fiend, with its bat-like wings, shrieked. Its claws scraped against the brick walls, leaving deep gouges in the masonry as it closed the distance. 

“Why is this happening?!” The boy’s lungs felt like they were filled with hot lead. His vision blurred, and his foot caught on a jagged slab of uprooted pavement.

“AH—!” He slammed into the ground, the impact knocking the wind from his chest. He rolled onto his back just in time to see the monster lunge. Its shadow eclipsed him, claws raised like obsidian scythes.

A silver flash bisected the air as a heavy machete was swung in a brutal arc. The blade sheared through the monster’s neck with a wet, rhythmic thud. Dark, viscous blood exploded across the pavement, drenching the boy’s shirt as the creature’s headless torso collapsed instantly.

The boy stared, paralyzed. “¿Qué...?”

He turned his head slowly. Standing over the carcass was an old man who looked like a relic of a different century. He wore a weathered straw fedora and possessed a mustache as white and thick as winter frost. He casually pulled a stained rag from his pocket and began wiping the black ichor from his blade.

The teenager blinked, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “You... you killed it...”

The old man looked down, his eyes like flint. He didn't offer a hand to help the boy up; instead, he frowned. “¿Por qué corres?”

The boy hesitated, his hands trembling. “I... I couldn’t fight it. It's a monster!”

The old man snorted, a harsh, dry sound. “That’s no excuse, chamaco.” He leveled the tip of the machete at the boy's chest. “In this world, people like you die first.”

The teenager lowered his head, his shoulders slumping. “I’m not strong... I’m just a student.”

The old man stepped closer, his presence heavy and absolute. “Strength comes after courage. If you only run, you will never be able to protect anyone, much less yourself.” He reached into the inner lining of his heavy coat and pulled out a shock of silver-white fabric. He tossed it onto the boy’s lap. “Póntelo.”

The teenager stared at the item. It was a professional wrestling mask, iconic and shimmering. “...What?”

“Put it on.”

“Why?” the boy asked, his confusion momentarily overriding his fear.

The old man sighed, looking toward the smoke-filled horizon. “You know El Santo?”

The boy nodded slowly. “...The legend? The wrestler?”

“He wore a mask and he fought monsters on the screen so the people wouldn't have to be afraid,” the old man pointed the machete again. “The world is a movie now, muchacho. Put it on and fight.”

The teenager hesitated, gripping the fabric. “...That doesn’t make sense. It's just cloth.”

The old man turned away, sheathing his blade. “I don’t care if it makes sense.” He began walking toward the main road where the sounds of battle were loudest. “I have more monsters to kill. Don't be a coward twice.”

The boy stared at the silver mask in his hands. “Seriously?” He looked at the carnage around him, then slowly pulled the mask over his head. The fabric was snug, smelling of old leather and sweat. He stood up, but he felt the same. “...Yeah, I thought so. It's just a mask.”

Then, a flicker of green caught his eye.

Near the severed head of the bat-creature, a small green marble rested on the asphalt, pulsing with a rhythmic, sickly light.

He then carefully picked it up. “…What’s this?”

The marble was unnervingly warm. As he held it, a magnetic urge, a primal hunger, filled his mind. He brought the marble closer to his chest, and as it touched his skin, it dissolved into a mist of emerald energy that surged into his heart.

The boy’s breathing hitched. A tidal wave of white-hot anger filled his chest. Anger at the sky for breaking. Anger at the monsters for coming. But mostly, a searing, suffocating anger at himself.

“I ran...” His fists clenched so hard the joints popped. “I ran like a coward while people died.” His muscles tightened as power reinforced his frame, steadying his shaky legs. He stood tall, the silver mask hiding his tears and his rage, leaving only the cold, unyielding eyes of a fighter.

“...No more running.” His voice was no longer that of a boy; it was firm, resonating with a new authority. He turned and sprinted toward the sounds of the screeching monsters, seeking the front line.

The old man glanced back over his shoulder, a faint, jagged grin appearing under his white mustache. “Good.”

—------------------------------------

Crow City, China

High above the smog of the modern world, nestled within the jagged peaks of Mount Tai, the ancient hidden city of Crow City remained a bastion of tradition and martial prowess. While the rest of China burned under the Great Fracture, the stone courtyards of this sanctuary were silent, save for the rhythmic dripping of ichor onto the cobblestones.

Dozens of monster corpses, twisted, multi-limbed aberrations that had dared to breach the city’s protective arrays, carpeted the ground. Their blood, a dark and viscous purple, pooled in the grooves of the ancient stone.

Standing at the epicenter of the carnage was a young woman who looked as though she had stepped out of a centuries-old painting. Her traditional silk robes, dyed the color of a winter sky, fluttered in the mountain breeze. Her long, ink-black hair flowed down her back, undisturbed by the violence that had just transpired. Luo Hao slowly lowered her fists, her expression one of chilling serenity. Many invaders that had materialized within the city walls had been systematically dismantled by her hands alone.

She then stepped forward, her silk slipper landing silently as she lightly kicked the corpse of a chitinous beast. It rolled across the ground, its many eyes dull and lifeless.

“…Pathetic,” She sighed, the sound barely a whisper. For years, Luo Hao had pursued the pinnacle of cultivation. She had exhausted the challenges of the younger generation; every rival in Crow City had been broken, and the elders now looked upon her with a mixture of awe and trepidation. No one dared to challenge her anymore.

Boredom had become her most persistent enemy. But today… her lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “These creatures were at least… somewhat entertaining.”

She swept her gaze across the battlefield. Despite the ferocity of the encounter, her robes bore not a single tear and barely a stain of monster blood. Then, a flicker of sapphire light caught her attention. A small blue marble lay nestled in the shadow of a fallen beast’s ribcage.

Luo Hao bent down, her movements fluid and predatory, and retrieved the object. “…What is this?” She narrowed her eyes, rolling the cold surface of the marble against her palm. Her instincts, honed by a decade of Qi manipulation, reacted immediately.

“There is power inside this,” She murmured. She then closed her eyes, channeling a thread of her refined Qi through her fingertips and into the core of the marble. Her eyes then snapped open as a spark of genuine curiosity lit them. “…Interesting.”

The energy within was dense, unrefined, and remarkably pure. It didn't feel like the spiritual energy of the world; it felt like a concentrated essence of the monster’s own biological strength.

“How do I extract it?” She mused, examining the light refraction within the sphere. Then her instincts guided her as she brought the marble close to her chest.

The moment the orb touched her silken robes, it didn't fall. It dissolved into a blinding blue light that surged through her sternum and into her meridians.

Luo Hao’s pupils shrank. Her muscles suddenly contracted, growing denser and more resilient. Her bones felt as though they had been reforged with tempered steel. As she slowly clenched her fist, the air around her knuckles vibrated with a low, physical hum. 

“…So, that is how it works.” Her expression brightened, her boredom momentarily forgotten. For the first time in years, she felt the thrill of genuine progress. “Finding more monsters… might mean more of these ‘marbles.’”

She turned toward the massive timber gates of the city. Beyond the walls, the roars of more monsters echoed across the mountain passes, a chorus of hungry and starving beasts.

Luo Hao began walking, her steps steady and purposeful. Her eyes burned with a new, dangerous anticipation. “Perhaps this disaster will not be so dull after all.”

With a single, explosive movement, she leapt onto the ten-meter-high city wall and vanished into the darkened forest below, a hunter seeking a greater prize.

—------------------------------------

Somewhere in Italy

The sun hung low over the Italian coastline, casting long, jagged shadows across a street that had become a graveyard of stone and sinew. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the heavy, copper tang of monster blood. The street was filled with broken concrete, shattered vehicles, and the remains of monsters. A mantis-like creature lunged across the pavement, its four blade-shaped forearms raised high.

“Left!” Griselda Quarta shouted, her voice a sharp command that cut through the low growls of the invaders, advising her much younger ward.

Xenovia moved with the explosive grace of a predator. Her blessed sword flashed in a silver arc, catching the afternoon light. The steel sheared through the monster’s thorax with a sickening crunch. The creature shrieked, a high-pitched sound that ended abruptly as its body slid apart into two twitching halves.

Another beast rushed from the flank, its jagged mandibles dripping with fluid. But Griselda stepped into its path without a flicker of hesitation. Her blade moved in a clean, practiced semi-circle. Holy power thrummed through the metal, erupting in a burst of white light that vaporized the creature’s core. Its remains collapsed into a pile of dark, dissolving residue.

For a moment, silence returned to the sector, heavy and suffocating. Xenovia exhaled slowly, the steam of her breath visible in the cooling air, and lowered her sword.

A dozen meters away, a cluster of civilians peered out from behind the rusted shell of an overturned bus. Their eyes were wide, fixed on the two women in sleek black bodysuits and white liturgical robes.

“Please make your way to the church, it has been established as the primary safe zone in the city.” Griselda told them firmly. “We will stay here and secure the area.”

The survivors scrambled into motion, spurred by the authority of the Church’s exorcists. They moved quickly, their footsteps echoing against the hollow buildings.

“Xenovia, ensure the lost lambs reach the intersection safely,” Griselda requested, her eyes already scanning the rooftops for more movement.

Xenovia nodded as she watched the retreating crowd, her brow furrowed. Being deployed in the open like this felt jarring; for centuries, their world had thrived on the "Masquerade," hiding the supernatural from the mundane. But the Great Fracture had rendered discretion a luxury the Vatican could no longer afford.

‘I must not slow Sister Griselda down. I must be the sword the Church needs,’ She thought, tightening her grip on her hilt.

But then as she stepped over the remains of the mantis-creature she had slain, a flicker of yellow caught her eye. Something small and spherical rolled across the cracked asphalt, tapping lightly against the toe of her combat boot.

Xenovia crouched, her curiosity piqued. Resting on the pavement was a small yellow marble, glowing with a faint, rhythmic internal light. It looked important, perhaps a core or a catalyst for these monsters. She picked it up, rolling the warm surface between her fingers. “What is this?” 

‘It looks important. Maybe it is connected to these monsters.’

Behind her, Griselda continued scanning the ruined street, her eyes moved across rooftops, alleys, and broken windows, noticing that the battlefield had grown quiet too quickly.

‘Something is wrong.’ She thought as her instincts warned her.  Then she turned and noticed that Xenovia was standing still, staring at something in her hand.

“Xenovia.” Griselda barked.

But got no response. The girl was in a trance, as the object was subtly tugging at her subconscious.

“Xenovia!” Griselda yelled louder, stepping toward her.

“Ah—!” Xenovia jumped as the marble slipped from her fingers and dropped against her chest, before vanishing completely into her body.

Xenovia quickly froze as she stared down at herself. “...What?” Her heart started to skip in worry as the cold realization that something foreign was now inside her sent a shiver through her frame. “Sister Griselda!”

Griselda rushed toward her immediately. “What did you do?”

“There was a marble... it came from the monster!” Xenovia’s voice was frantic as she pointed at her chest. “I was inspecting it, and it just... it entered my body!”

Griselda’s expression hardened. “You picked up an unknown object from a monster?” Her voice threatened as it sharpened. “Xenovia, that was reckless!”

“I’m sorry!” Xenovia said quickly. “But I didn’t expect it to disappear!”

Griselda grabbed her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “Stand still.” She immediately began checking Xenovia for any visible changes. Her hands moved across her arms, shoulders, and back.

But nothing as her breathing remained steady, there did not appear to be any visible corruption or  abnormal energy.

Griselda then frowned as she found nothing wrong. “Do you feel anything unusual?”

Xenovia thought for a moment. “My body feels… normal.”

“Any pain?”

“No.” Xenovia said as she shook her head.

“Dizziness?”

“No.” Again Xenovia shook her head. 

Griselda stared at her carefully as this situation was unacceptable. If that object is related to the monsters, it could be dangerous, it could affect her dear little sister, someone she swore to teach and protect. But before she could continue the reprimand, a harsh scraping sound erupted from the rubble nearby.

A scraping sound echoed across the street causing both exorcists to tense instantly as a long creature crawled over the rubble, a Spinecrawler. Its long body dragged across the ground as rows of jagged legs gripped the broken asphalt. Its mouth opened wide as it lunged toward the two exorcists while their guards were down.

“Monster!” Xenovia shouted as she noticed the monster first and she quickly drew her blessed sword in one smooth motion.

As the creature lunged, Xenovia quickly stepped forward and swung her blade downward. The cut was clean as the monster was split perfectly down the middle with its body separated and crashed onto the pavement.

Silence returned again as Xenovia stared at the remains in surprise. “…What?”

Griselda was also left surprised as she narrowed her eyes. ‘That cut was too clean.’ Before today Xenovia could defeat these creatures with not many difficulties, but not like that.

She then walked toward the corpse and crouched down, inspecting the cut’s surface and noticed how smooth it was, with no resistance marks or tearing. Her gaze then moved to Xenovia’s sword. “Hold your blade out.”

Xenovia obeyed as she brought it in front of her.

Griselda quickly inspected it closely and noticed that the edge looked different. Sharper, much sharper. She then looked up at Xenovia. “Tell me everything that happened again.” She said as her voice grew serious. 

“Well I was doing what you told me, when I noticed something on the ground that looked like a yellow marble… As I was inspecting it the marble fell and later touched my chest and then it entered my body?”

“I see.” Griselda nodded along as she was in deep thought. “ And this yellow marble… did it truly enter your body?”

Xenovia nodded immediately. “Yes. I’m certain of it.”

Griselda slowly stood as her mind worked through the possibilities. ‘A monster energy crystal that when absorbed, grants powers and enhances the body. If this phenomenon is real, the implications are enormous.’

She then crossed her arms and made her decision. “Xenovia.”

“Yes, Sister?”

“Sheath your sword.”

Xenovia blinked. “…Are we retreating?”

Griselda nodded once. “Yes.” She then looked toward the horizon. “We will inform the others in the area and then we are returning to the Vatican.” She said as her voice carried authority. “This discovery must be reported immediately.”

Xenovia slid her sword back into its sheath as she looked down at her chest again. The place where the marble disappeared felt completely normal. But the cleanly cut monster behind her told a different story. ‘Did that marble really make me stronger?’

Griselda began walking. “Stay close to me.”

“Yes, Sister.”

The two exorcists then left the ruined street behind them. Both of them knew that whatever had entered Xenovia’s body was no ordinary object and the Church would want answers.

—----------------------------------------------- 

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

The streets of Rio de Janeiro had become a liquid graveyard as screams erupted from every street, balcony and alleyway as the ground continued to groan from the morning’s violent tremors. Fissures had split the pavement of the Avenida Atlântica, and now, the Atlantic Ocean was claiming the land. Seawater surged through the cracks, foaming and thick with debris, as vehicles bobbed like corks in the rising flood.

A pack of reptilian monsters, scaled, multi-limbed horrors, scrambled over an overturned bus. Their claws, sharp enough to peel through automotive steel, tore into the metal as they sought the terrified civilians huddled behind the engine block.

In the center of the flooded thoroughfare, a young man stood motionless. His spiky blond hair whipped violently from a localized gale that seemed to radiate from his own body. His green eyes were not filled with the terror of the masses. They were narrowed with a sharp, pointed irritation.

Dulio Gesualdo exhaled a long, weary sigh. “…Seriously?”

An explosion rocked a nearby favela, sending a plume of orange fire into the overcast sky.

“I finally take a vacation, and the world decides to end.” Dulio said as he rolled his shoulders, the movement fluid and practiced.

Born in a war-torn country and orphaned when he was very young, he had been a ward of the Vatican for as long as he could remember. At first they believed he was just another refugee. But then they had seen the potential in the quiet boy, but more importantly, they had seen the Sacred Gear anchored to his soul. One of the thirteen Longinus: Zenith Tempest. It was a divine artifact capable of dictating the laws of the weather and the four elements.

The Vatican’s training had been a gauntlet of blood and iron as they had forged him into their strongest exorcist, a weapon designed to purge devils and monsters from the shadows. But a few months ago, they had handed him a file that changed his world: “You still have living relatives.”

The moment he heard the news, he quickly took a vacation. Just a few weeks to visit and connect. Just time to breathe before he resumed his mission in making sure that no children suffer as he had done.

He had spent his life as a solitary soldier, believing his bloodline had ended in the dirt of a forgotten war. Instead, he found an aunt and cousins in Brazil who had welcomed him with open arms and no questions. For two weeks, he had tasted peace. He had sat on the beach, felt the sun, and forgotten the scent of sulfur.

Then the Great Fracture shook and tore the sky into ribbons. The monsters were quick to follow as they began to pour into the world.

A reptilian monster shrieked, and leaped towards him from a lamp post with its jaws unhinged. Before its teeth could graze his jacket, the air around Dulio exploded in a high-pressure burst. The atmospheric shift was so violent it acted as a physical blade, bisecting the creature in midair. Chunks of its flesh slammed into the surrounding buildings, then it was washed away instantly by the rising tide.

From his flank, another monster charged through the knee-deep water. But Dulio didn't turn his head. He simply lifted a hand, palm toward the sky. The moisture in the air ignited as a localized pillar of white-hot flame crashed down from the clouds, incinerating the creature into ash before it could even register the heat.

Around the city, as various monsters attacked the defenseless, they could be seen being frozen into popsicles, electrocuted by a sudden lightningbolt, cut to ribbons by sudden wind, or turned to ash as they were suddenly ignited. Dulio didn’t even have to acknowledge the beast to kill them.

As he continued to walk. Every step was deliberate, moving him closer to the coastline where the ocean was roaring in a rhythmic, predatory cadence. 

Towering over the harbor was a nightmare of biological scale,  an Abyssal Tide Serpent. The entity had coiled its massive, iridescent body around a luxury skyscraper, the glass and concrete shattering under the sheer pressure of its grip. Its head, crowned with jagged horns, rose high above the city, its roar vibrating the very marrow in Dulio’s bones. 

Each time the serpent shifted, a new tidal surge smashed deeper into the residential districts.

A group of smaller monsters crawled out from a collapsed cafe to block his path. But without looking, Dulio spoke a single word: “Wind.”

A localized hurricane-force gust swept the street, lifting the creatures and throwing them three blocks away like autumn leaves. 

Then more monsters could be seen approaching him but he simply closed his fist. “Earth.” The submerged pavement erupted. Jagged spikes of granite shot upward through the floodwater, impaling every monster in the vicinity simultaneously. He didn't slow his pace as his gaze remained locked on the serpent’s eyes.

‘I came here to see my family. I came here to relax’. His jaw tightened, as an instinct for protection flaring within him. ‘And you decided to harm them.’

A massive wave, thirty feet high, began to crest near the harbor, threatening to level the temporary shelters on the shore.

Dulio stopped. His Sacred Gear responded to the cold, focused rage in his chest. The sky above Rio didn't just darken; it turned a bruised purple as lightning began to stitch the clouds together in a frantic, strobe-light rhythm.

“…Fine.” If the beast wanted to weaponize the terrain, he would weaponize the atmosphere. He thrust his arm toward the swirling vortex above. “Zenith Tempest!”

Thunder exploded with the force of a tectonic shift. A bolt of lightning tore through the clouds and struck the harbor. The Abyssal Tide Serpent froze, its head snapping toward the lone human standing in the middle of the flooded street. It sensed the shift and saw the one being on the planet currently contesting its dominion over the sea.

Dulio stared back, his blond hair glowing in the electrical discharge. “You picked the wrong city.”

The air surged. Fire ignited in a ring around his feet, defying the water. Stone shards drifted into the air, and the floodwater itself began to spiral around him in a protective cocoon. All four elements answered the call of his will.

“And you picked the wrong day to attack.”

The storm screamed in response as the battle for Rio de Janeiro had begun.

Done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes.