INTENSE CHILLS
Wow... Is it just me, or does the place where I’ve landed give off an ultra-sinister aura?!
Gin glanced around, his stomach knotting as he took in his surroundings. He was standing in what looked like the shattered remains of an old hospital. The walls were cracked and covered in graffiti—strange symbols that seemed to have been drawn in blood. Faint shafts of light filtered through broken windows, but the rest of the room was drenched in shadow.
Kin: Through Gin’s earpiece “Gin, did you drop off your locator beacon?”
Gin: Jumps slightly, startled “Oh, no, sorry, I completely forgot!”
With shaking hands, Gin rummaged through his bag and pulled out the small metallic beacon. He planted it on the broken tile floor, his breath quickening as he tried not to think about how quiet the building was.
Gin: “I planted the beacon, brother!”
Kin: Through the earpiece “Okay... I see your position. Don’t move! I’ll be right there!”
Easier said than done... This place gives me the creeps.
Gin scanned the room, his eyes settling on a staircase leading down. A faded sign dangled from the ceiling above it, the words barely legible beneath layers of grime and rust.
“Saint-Luc Psychiatric Hospital Reception”
Gin: Through the earpiece “Kin, I’m moving toward what looks like the first floor. We’ll meet there!”
Kin: Concerned “Wait, have you heard from Yumi? Or Mu?”
Gin: Starting down the stairs “No... not since the tournament started.”
Kin: Grumbling “What the hell are they doing?”
Gin descended cautiously, the steps creaking beneath him. The air grew colder, and the smell of rot became almost unbearable. When he reached the first floor, his heart skipped a beat. Bloodstains stretched across the cracked tiles, leading toward the center of the room.
There, in the middle of the hall, stood a man in long, tattered clothes. He was hunched over, his head tilted toward a towering black monolith etched with glowing, blood-red glyphs. The glyphs pulsed faintly, casting an eerie light across the room.
Gin froze, his pulse racing.
What the hell is this...?
Gin is frozen, unable to move, as if the air itself has grown heavy around him. The bloodied man stands before him, his long robes swaying slightly despite the stillness of the air.
Mysterious Man: His voice is calm, yet layered with an unnatural echo.
“Gin Shakespeare... poor child.”
INTENSE CHILLS
WH.. HE KNOWS MY NAME..?!!
Mysterious Man: Steps closer, his presence suffocating
“Your fate is sealed... but perhaps you can still influence what happens next. The question is...”
The man lifts his hands, slowly removing his hood. His face is a nightmare—his crimson eyes boring into Gin’s soul.
Mysterious Man: “Are you ready to see your future, Gin?”
Gin’s breath is shallow, his chest tightening as fear grips him.
He can’t speak, can’t even look away. The man extends a bloodstained hand toward him.
Mysterious Man: “Show me your blood... and I’ll show you the future.”
Suddenly, the wall to Gin’s right explodes with a deafening crash.
Dust and debris fill the air as a figure bursts through.
Kin: “Don’t touch my little brother, you freak!!”
Moving at blinding speed, Kin charges the man, his fist drawn back for a devastating punch.
Mysterious Man: Lets out a low, almost pitying sigh. “What a pity... poor Gin.”
Before Kin’s fist connects, the man vanishes into thin air, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
Kin: Looks around, fists clenched. “Where the hell did he go?!”
Turning to Gin, Kin’s expression softens with concern. “You okay?!”
Gin: Still shaking, takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I... Who was that?!”
Kin: “I don’t know. But how the hell did he know your name?”
Gin: Frowning, his voice shaky. “He said... he could see my future...”
Gin’s thoughts race.
What did he mean by ‘my fate is sealed’?
Kin: Grabs Gin by the shoulder and shakes him slightly.
“Come on! We don’t have time to figure this out right now. We need to find Yumi and Mu!”
Gin: “Y... Yeah, you’re right!”
The brothers run out of the hospital, but just before leaving, Gin’s gaze lingers on the monolith.
Its blood-red glyphs pulse faintly, as if alive, almost... watching them leave.
----- Ao's side -----
Yawn
What’s that smell?
Weird… Lead? No... I’ve smelled this before.
Ao trudged slowly through the desert, his boots sinking into the dry, cracked earth.
The sharp scent lingered in the air, tugging at the edges of his memory. His thoughts were interrupted when he glanced up—and froze.
No… Don’t tell me.
The sky, once a pale and cloudless expanse, darkened. Fat droplets began to fall, splattering onto his face and the sand below.
But it wasn’t water. Each drop painted the desert crimson, pooling into glistening streaks of red.
This isn’t rain…
it’s BLOOD
His pulse quickened. Jaw tightening, Ao scanned the horizon, his hand twitching at his side.
The Red Cult. They’re here.
The realization struck like a blow to his gut.
This is no ordinary tournament. IT'S A MASS EXECUTION!
His teeth clenched audibly, his voice dripping with fury as he hissed through them.
I knew the Golden Order was in trouble.
But the Red Cult doesn’t interfere with official events... unless the organization is corrupt.
The thought burned through him, spreading anger like fire.
Thomas would never have dragged me into this without warning. Which means—
Ao ripped his glasses off, his eyes blazing with an intense blue.
Lirin lied to me!
The glasses cracked in his palm as his fist closed with brutal force.
He barely noticed the sharp sting of glass cutting into his skin as a familiar voice stirred within him, low and sinister.
A N G E R _ I S _ T A K I N G _ O V E R _ U S , _ A O
“Not now”
he growled, shaking his head as if to banish the voice.
But it grew louder, pressing against his mind like an oncoming storm.
“I said, leave me alone!”
The growling in his head rose to a roar, nearly drowning out the sound of laughter—a shrill, mocking laugh that came from behind him.
???: “OHII OHII OHIIII! A blue boy in the middle of nowhere?”
Ao’s head snapped around, his expression twisting into confusion and barely-contained rage.
In the distance, a tall figure loomed, silhouetted against the blood-red sky. The figure strolled forward with a crooked grin, his teeth gleaming like a predator’s behind his terrifying black mask.
Ao: “Let me guess. You’re part of the Red Cult, aren’t you?”
The man’s laugh boomed, rattling the air.
Red Cult Berserker: “AHAH! Smart, aren’t you, blue boy?”
Ao’s fists tightened as the voice inside him stirred again.
A S K _ H I M !
Ao: “What kind of sick plan is this? Did you make some deal with the Pendragons?”
The Berserker smirked, his eyes glinting with madness.
Berserker: “Give and take. We regulate the Kingdoms by culling the strongest warriors in this tournament. And in return—”
He paused, shuddering as if his throat rebelled against the words.
Berserker: “We replenish the blood supply for our rituals...”
The Berserker’s grin faltered. He stepped back, trembling slightly.
Berserker: “Wait… why am I saying this?”
L E T ' S _ S H O W _ H I M , _ O U R _ T R U E _ N A T U R E
Ao tilted his head, his expression cold and calculating.
He took a slow step forward, the blood-soaked sand crunching under his boots.
The Berserker’s unease grew with each step Ao took.
Ao: “You’re probably wondering why you just confessed everything to a stranger.”
The Berserker’s hands trembled, his grin now replaced with panic.
Berserker: “What are you—?”
Ao’s terrifying smile spread, sharp and deliberate.
Ao: “Your mind is so weak that I forced the truth out of you the moment you looked into my eyes.”
The Berserker froze, staring at Ao as if he were facing a monster. Ao stopped just inches from him, his voice low and dripping with menace.
Ao: “And now, I’m going to show you what happens when you cross me.”
The Berserker tightened his grip on his axe, his knuckles white as he tried to mask his fear.
His voice cracked as he roared:
Berserker: “B-Back off!!”
Ao took a slow, deliberate step forward, his expression cold and unyielding.
The desert air seemed to hum with energy as he clenched his glowing fist.
Ao: “You're out of luck running into me…”
The blue aura around his fist flared brighter, crackling with power like lightning contained in his palm. His voice dropped to a menacing growl.
Ao: “I certainly am the worst opponent in this tournament!”
With that, Ao launched himself forward in a blur of motion, his fist blazing like a comet.
Ao: “Nova!”
The Berserker swung his axe up in desperation, aiming to block the punch. But it was too late. The impact came with a deafening crack, and a shockwave rippled outward as the Berserker’s arm was obliterated from the inside. Blood sprayed across the sand as he crumpled, clutching the mangled stump where his arm had been.
Berserker: “AAAAARGH!” His scream echoed across the desert, raw with pain.
As the Berserker writhed, Ao straightened, his chest rising and falling heavily.
But the voice inside him surged again, louder and more forceful than before.
K I L L !
Ao’s hand twitched. He grabbed his head, his expression twisting in agony.
Ao: “No… No killing!”
K I L L _ H I M !
Ao: “SHUT UP!!”
He staggered, his glowing fist dimming for a moment as he fought to drown out the voice. But the Berserker, despite his injuries, rose to his knees with fury in his eyes.
Berserker: “I’M GOING TO SLAUGHTER YOU, YOU FREAK!”
With his remaining arm, the Berserker lunged, pulling back for a devastating punch. But Ao, still clutching his head, suddenly extended his free arm. His voice rang out like a command.
Ao: “PUSH KAI!”
The air around Ao erupted with force. A shockwave slammed into the Berserker, flinging him hundreds of meters backward. He tumbled across the ground, a ragdoll against the unyielding sand. Before he could stop, a second pulse of wind—sharp as a blade—cut through the air.
The Berserker screamed as his remaining arm was severed, blood spilling in torrents.
He hit the ground with a thud, flailing helplessly as his screams filled the desert.
Berserker: “AAAAAAAH!!!”
Ao closed the distance in a flash, appearing beside the downed Berserker like a shadow.
He crouched over him, his face unreadable.
Ao: “Silence”
The Berserker’s screams stopped abruptly, his mouth open in a soundless cry.
Panic flooded his eyes as he realized he couldn’t speak. He began to crawl backward, his body shaking violently. But Ao pressed his foot down on the Berserker’s chest, pinning him to the ground.
Ao: “I’m not a monster”
He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing.
Ao: “I won’t kill you. But I’ll make sure you remember me“
With a flick of his wrist, two glowing blue flames ignited over the Berserker’s bloody stumps.
Ao: “Blue Fire”
The flames seared into the wounds, cauterizing them with an agonizing hiss.
The Berserker’s body bucked violently, his silent screams trapped behind his lips as he writhed beneath Ao’s foot. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
Ao: “Good.”
The flames flickered and vanished. Ao removed his foot from the Berserker’s chest, letting him collapse onto the sand, trembling and broken.
Ao turned away, his expression hardened as he looked toward the horizon.
The red haze of the blood rain had begun to fade, but the desert still carried the stench of violence. He balled his fists, his voice low and resolute.
Ao: “I need to find the other participants. If the Red Cult gets to them first, they’re dead.”
S T I L L _ P L A Y I N G _ T H E _ S U P E R H E R O ? !
Ao froze, the words cutting deeper than they should have.
His head throbbed, and the voice inside him surged forward like a tide he couldn’t hold back.
Y O U _ K N O W _ V E R Y _ W E L L _ T H A T
“Shut up…”
T H E Y _ D O N ' T _ E X I S T
“I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”
The words tore from his throat like a desperate cry. His body trembled, his knees buckling under the strain as his vision blurred.
The world tilted, the red sand beneath him spinning into a haze. And then, nothing. Ao collapsed face-first into the sand, unconscious.
When Ao opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the desert anymore.
The air was calm, tinged with the fresh, earthy scent of the private dimension temple grounds.
The distant chirping of birds filled the space, and golden light poured down from a sky that felt far too perfect to be real.
He was small again—just a child of five, his fists balled in excitement.
He ran barefoot across the temple grounds, his small voice ringing with uncontainable joy.
Ao (Child): “WHEN I GET BIG, I’LL BE A SUPERHERO! JUST LIKE MASTER!”
His little legs carried him everywhere, shouting his dream to the wind and anyone who would listen. He laughed, leaping through the grass as if the world was his to conquer. In the distance, a young woman in a crisp black-and-white maid’s uniform watched him, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Female Servant: “Come now, little Ao! If you want to be like your master, you’ll have to eat your vegetables and be super-strong in battle!”
Ao skidded to a stop in front of her, clutching her skirt with tiny hands. His eyes sparkled with innocence and determination.
Ao (Child): “But, but, I’ll be a hero who doesn’t fight!”
The maid blinked, confused.
Female Servant: “Hmm? A hero who doesn’t fight?”
Ao (Child): “Yeah!” He puffed out his chest, proud of his logic.
“I don’t like fighting… I’ll always find another way!
Heroes don’t need to fight because fighting isn’t good!”
The maid chuckled softly, amused by his stubborn idealism, but before she could respond, the air around them shifted. It was subtle at first—a faint hum of power.
Then, without warning, a blinding yellow aura erupted beside Ao, crackling with raw energy.
The force struck him hard, hurling him backward like a ragdoll.
He flew out of the maid’s protective grasp, slamming into a concrete wall with a sickening thud.
Pain bloomed through his small body as he crumpled to the ground, coughing weakly.
Female Servant: “Ao!!”
???: “STOP.”
The maid straightened instantly, her expression snapping to one of cold obedience. The warm, nurturing woman was gone, replaced by a rigid servant awaiting orders. Heavy footsteps echoed across the grounds as a towering figure approached the fallen boy. Ao’s vision blurred, but through the haze, he saw it—a long white cape billowing in the wind, a pair of boots stopping in front of him.
Ao (Child): “M-Master…”
His voice was barely a whisper, trembling with both awe and fear.
Ao’s Master: “You fool.”
The voice was deep, cold, and utterly devoid of kindness.
Ao flinched as his master’s gaze bore down on him like a blade.
Ao’s Master: “I forbid you to think that way. If you were outside, you’d be dead already.”
Ao (Child): “But… I don’t…”
His words were cut off by an explosion of power. His master’s terrifying aura surged to life, suffocating everything around him.
The air felt heavy, impossible to breathe. The ground beneath Ao cracked, unable to withstand the sheer force of the energy radiating from the man before him.
Ao’s Master: “THERE’S NO ‘BUT!’”
The words slammed into him harder than the yellow aura had, leaving him frozen in fear.
The world seemed to dim around him as his master’s voice echoed in his mind.
Time seemed to stretch. The towering figure loomed over him, a stark contrast to the fragile boy trembling on the ground. The master’s words lingered, a brand seared into his soul.
...But I hate fighting...
Ao jolted awake, his body stiff and heavy as he pushed himself off the blood-stained sand.
The desert heat pressed down on him, but his mind still reeled from the memory. His breath came in shallow gasps as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Ao: “Another bloody…” He rubbed his temple, groaning. “...nightmare.”
He stretched, his joints cracking as he stood.
The crimson sky loomed overhead, unchanging. Yawning, he looked around at the barren wasteland.
Ao: “Well… can I even call that a nightmare?”
He shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering haze.
But no matter how much he tried, the memory of his master’s words still echoed in his mind.
Ok.. Let's get this over with!
Ao sprinted full speed through the crimson desert, his boots kicking up the blood-soaked sand.
The rain of blood hammered down, slicking his skin and clothes, but he barely noticed.
His eyes darted in every direction, scanning the horizon with laser focus.
Ao: “The organizers said the tournament was being broadcast to all the kingdoms…”
His gaze flicked upward. There it was—a chameleon camera, shimmering faintly as it blended perfectly into the blood-red sky. Invisible to most, but not to him.
Ao: “Did they lie?”
He scowled but quickly shook the thought away. That wasn’t the priority right now.
His eyes narrowed as he skidded to a halt, kicking up sand beneath his heels.
Ao: “That’s not the most worrying thing right now… Where are the participants?!”
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and concentrated. Star power surged through him, amplifying his sense of hearing.
The world around him seemed to fall away, replaced by a symphony of sounds carried on the wind.
And then he heard it.
The cries of pain. Everywhere.
Ao: “Shit. The Red Cult is already everywhere!”
His heart thundered in his chest. There was no time to waste. He clenched his fists, blue sparks crackling at his fingertips.
Ao: “We’re going into high gear!”
Dropping to one knee, Ao placed both hands on the blood-soaked sand.
He concentrated, and the ground beneath him pulsed faintly, responding to his energy.
The desert seemed to hold its breath as Ao inhaled sharply, then unleashed a booming shout:
Ao: “OPERATOR!!!”
Female Voice: “MY EARS!!!”
Ao: “Music!”
Female Voice: “YOU’RE FUCKING WITH ME?!”
Ao: “MU-SIC!!!”
The exasperated sigh on the other end was almost audible through Ao’s earpiece.
Female Voice: “What do you want?”
Ao: “Hmm…” He smirked as the rain of blood pattered against his shoulders.
“Since it’s raining blood… get me Raining Blood by Slayer”
Author’s note: Put this music in your ears for a better experience.
As the opening notes of the heavy guitar riff blared in Ao’s ears, his entire body ignited.
Blue flames erupted around him, licking at his skin without burning him, and electric arcs crackled across his arms and legs. His muscles surged with power, twitching like coiled springs ready to release.
Ao: “Let’s see if the sound can keep up with me this time.”
He leaned forward into a racing stance, the music pounding in his ears, syncing with his heartbeat. The desert around him seemed to slow, the blood rain freezing in mid-air as time itself held its breath.
And then, he moved.
Ao blasted off with a deafening sonic boom, the force of his takeoff shattering the ground beneath him. He streaked across the desert like a comet, a blur of blue light trailing in his wake. The shockwaves of his speed rippled outward, splitting the air with thunderous cracks that lagged behind him.
Ao runs.. beyond the speed of sound!
Participants appeared in his path, scattered across the desert like prey waiting for the predator. Ao didn’t slow down for a second.
As he approached, blue lightning crackled along his right arm, forming the edge of an invisible blade.
Ao: “Kaminari Slash—10%”
With a swift slash of his arm, a streak of lightning surged toward the nearest participant.
The technique struck them with precise force, enough to disqualify them without causing lethal damage. The participant crumpled to the ground as Ao zipped past them, already targeting the next.
One by one, he incapacitated them, each blow faster than the last. His movements were seamless, a deadly combination of speed and skill. His strikes arrived before the sound of their impact—a delayed symphony of explosions and rumbling thunder that rippled through the battlefield.
Automated Voice: “Participants #22, #23, #24, #25, #57, #14, #52, #72… eliminated.”
Ao continued his rampage, moving faster than the eye could follow.
To an outside observer, he was nothing more than a streak of blue light, destroying everything in his path.
The desert trembled beneath him as he tore through the landscape, leaving disqualified participants scattered in his wake, slowly disappearing with a twinkling teleportation.
----- Gin's side -----
The rain of blood continued to pour, staining the cracked ruins and the sands below a deep crimson. On the roof of a crumbling building, Gin crouched, scanning the horizon while Kin paced impatiently behind him.
Gin: “I HAVE A SIGNAL!”
Kin immediately stopped, rushing to Gin’s side. The two brothers, drenched from the unrelenting downpour, strained to listen as the static-ridden voice of their teammate and sister, Yumi, came through their earpieces.
Yumi: “We’ve…” Static crackled, cutting off parts of her message. “...Red Cult are chasing us.”
Kin: “Where are you?! Send us a location signal!”
Yumi: “What’s—” Another burst of static broke through, followed by the faint rumble of thunder. “...blue light...”
There was a sudden shout through the comms, followed by Yumi’s voice, panicked and raw:
Yumi: “MU, RUN!!! AAAAH—”
Her scream dissolved into static, followed by silence.
Kin’s breath hitched as his fist clenched, his voice rising in urgency.
Kin: “Yumi! Do you copy?! Mu!!”
Gin frowned, his hand gripping the edge of the ruined rooftop tightly.
Gin: “A... blue light?”
Kin: “Damn it!”
He stomped hard on the rooftop, the impact cracking the old tiles beneath his foot.
Frustration radiated off him like heat.
Gin: “Let’s move, brother. We must be too far from them by now!”
Without another word, the brothers leapt from the roof, landing on the blood-soaked sand below with practiced ease.
The impact sent faint splashes of red mud around their boots as they straightened.
Gin scanned the horizon while Kin looked westward, his jaw tight.
Kin: “There are ruins to the west. Let’s head there—higher ground will give us a better signal.”
Just as Kin spoke, a loud rumble of thunder rolled through the air, followed by a flash of blue light that illuminated the ruins in the distance.
Both brothers froze, staring at the eerie glow that pulsed briefly before fading into the darkness.
Gin: “What the hell was that?”
Kin: “I don’t know… but we’re heading there, regardless.”
Neither said another word as they broke into a sprint, their figures quickly disappearing into the bloody haze of the desert.
----- Ao's side -----
The ruins were silent save for the rhythmic patter of blood falling from the sky. Ao arrived in a blur of speed, skidding to a stop on the slick ground. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto two figures in the distance—a woman with striking white hair and an orc. They were locked in a desperate battle against a group of bloodied assassins clad in Red Cult robes.
Ao narrowed his eyes as he slid into position.
His body hummed with power as he raised his hands, blue sparks flickering between his fingers.
Ao: “ThunderRow—”
Before he could complete the incantation, a voice rang out, deep and commanding, cutting through the chaos like a blade.
???: “Blood Authority”
Ao froze. His body locked into place as though invisible chains had wrapped around him.
His arm, still outstretched, trembled as he fought against the paralysis. Before him stood a man drenched in blood, his presence radiating an unnatural aura.
His robes marked him as something far more dangerous than the assassins—a Prophet of the Red Cult.
Ao: “Who… are you?!”
The Prophet tilted his head, his piercing gaze filled with both curiosity and malice.
He stepped closer, his voice soft but laced with menace.
Prophet: “Aotahi… A blessing|curse emanates from you.”
Ao’s eyes widened. How does he know my name?!
His gaze flicked briefly to the two participants. The white-haired woman knelt beside the remains of the orc, tears streaming down her face as she screamed.
White-Haired Woman (Yumi): “MU! WAKE UP! DAMN YOU, YOU DAMNED PROPHET!”
Ao: “Prophet…” His voice was low, barely a whisper. “The Prophet of Blood?!”
The Prophet muttered to himself, his voice barely audible as he gripped his head in one hand.
Prophet: “Cursed?… no, blessed… no, cursed…”
Ao gritted his teeth, his frustration boiling over. He had no time to deal with this insanity.
The woman’s cries, the bloodied assassins, and now this Prophet—it was all a distraction from what mattered most.
Ao: “I don’t have time for this.”
With a roar, Ao forced his energy outward, shaking the ground beneath him. Blue flames erupted around his body, spreading outward in a series of violent shockwaves that rippled through the ruins. The grip of the Prophet’s technique faltered as Ao’s raw power surged against it.
Finally breaking free, Ao fixed his gaze on the bloodied figure before him.
He cracked his knuckles, flicking his right fist into the palm of his left hand.
Ao: “You’re going back to your lair, blood fraud!”
The Prophet growled low in his throat, his crimson aura intensifying. The assassins at his side readied their weapons, moving in formation around him.
But Ao didn’t flinch. He stood tall, flames and sparks dancing across his frame.
“Such arrogance”, Says the prophet
In the distance, Gin and Kin neared the ruins, their boots kicking up blood-soaked sand as they approached.
The blue light from earlier flickered faintly ahead of them, but this time, they could hear it too—distant booms of thunder and the rumble of the ground beneath their feet.
Kin: “Something’s happening. Faster, Gin!”
The two brothers broke into a sprint.
They didn’t know what they were running into, but they knew one thing for certain—the Red Cult was there, and their sister and brother were in danger.
