Chapter 152: World Shatters!

The night was a relentless torrent, rain lashing against the cobblestone streets and drenching the grand facade of the House of Flying Lions. Dark clouds swallowed the moonlight, leaving the towering gates shrouded in an oppressive gloom.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, echoing the turmoil that churned within Captain Hato's heart. Each raindrop seemed to mirror his anguish, cold and unyielding, as he trudged through the storm toward the imposing entrance of the noble house.

Hato's armor, once a symbol of his strength and honor, was now heavy and cumbersome, soaked through by the unrelenting downpour.

His uniform clung to his body, the fabric soaked and clinging, making every step a painful reminder of his desperation. His face, streaked with rain and tears, was a mask of sheer despair, eyes hollow yet burning with a fervent plea.

As he approached the massive iron gates, the rain intensified, each drop a sharp sting against his skin. Lightning illuminated the sky in brief, jagged flashes, casting eerie shadows that danced menacingly around him.

The gates, adorned with intricate designs of soaring lions, stood as a formidable barrier between him and the mercy he sought. Hato's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a thunderous reminder of his futile hope.

He reached the gates, his legs trembling with exhaustion and heartbreak. Droplets of rain streamed down his face, mixing with the tears that had been shed in the days since his family's capture.

He fell to his knees on the cold, wet ground, the stone beneath him slick and unforgiving. His hands clasped together, fingers interlacing in a gesture of imploring desperation.

"Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. "Please, let me see them. My wife, my children—they're innocent. They need me."

The heavy gates remained closed, indifferent to his pleas. Two guards stood rigidly at the entrance, their expressions cold and disdainful. The taller of the two, a man with a stern jaw and piercing eyes, sneered down at Hato. His companion, equally stern, crossed his arms, showing no sign of empathy.

"You should have thought about the consequences before defying the House of Flying Lions," the taller guard spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're not in a position to make demands."

Hato's body shook with sobs, the sound of his crying lost in the cacophony of the storm.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the gates as if his touch could somehow bridge the chasm between desperation and indifference. "Please, I beg you. My family is suffering because of your arrogance. They didn't deserve this."

The guards exchanged a glance, their expressions unchanging. The shorter guard scoffed, turning his back on Hato.

"Save your tears, Captain. You're not allowed to die in front of the noble house. Leave now, before you make a fool of yourself."

Hato's anguish deepened, his grief transforming into a tempest of emotions. He stood up abruptly, rain cascading down his face, and sank back to his knees, head bowed in utter despair.

His hands pressed against his temples, he began to slap his face, each blow a futile attempt to silence the storm within him.

"Please!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose them. They're everything to me. I need to protect them. I need to save them!"

Onlookers had gathered at a safe distance, their faces pale with pity and sorrow as they watched the broken man plead against the merciless night.

Whispers floated through the crowd, voices tinged with sympathy and regret.

"She's just a man, lost and desperate," one woman murmured, her eyes welling with tears.

"His family didn't deserve this," a young boy whispered, clutching his mother's hand tightly.

Despite the sympathy of the onlookers, the guards remained unmoved, their duty to the House of Flying Lions overriding any semblance of compassion. The taller guard stepped forward, his footsteps muffled by the heavy rain, and looked down at Hato with utter disdain.

"You think your tears will change anything? The House of Flying Lions operates above your petty concerns," he sneered. "Begging here won't save your family."

Hato's body convulsed with uncontrollable sobs, his anguish reaching a fever pitch. He pounded his fists against the ground, the force sending ripples through the soaked earth.

His head snapped forward, striking the cold stone repeatedly until his forehead was raw and bleeding. Blood mingled with the rain, a stark crimson against the dark, wet ground.

"Please!" he wailed, his voice hoarse and broken. "Please, I need you! I need to save them! Don't leave me alone with this pain!"

The guards watched with cold detachment, their expressions hardened by years of serving the unyielding nobility.

The shorter guard shook his head, muttering under his breath as he turned away. The taller guard raised a hand, signaling the end of this futile display.

"That's enough," he declared firmly. "You're making a scene. Leave before you cause any more trouble."

He slammed his head against the gate, again and again, each impact sending fresh waves of pain through his skull. Blood dripped down his face, mixing with the rain, as he cried out, his voice raw and hoarse.

"Please, have mercy! Please, I beg you! My wife, my children—don't take them from me! I'll do anything, anything! Just let them go!"

The guards exchanged glances, their expressions twisted with disdain. One of them stepped forward and kicked Hato's hands from the bars, sending him sprawling back into the mud.

Hato's head hit the ground with a sickening thud, his vision darkening as the pain overwhelmed him.

"You're not allowed to die here," the guard repeated coldly. "Get out of here, you worthless dog."

Hato staggered to his feet, his body trembling violently from the emotional and physical toll. He reached out once more, his hands grasping at the air, fingers desperate to clutch onto something—anything—that could save his family.

The rain continued to pour, each drop a relentless reminder of his suffering.

As he turned to leave, the crowd's murmurs grew louder, a symphony of sorrow and bitterness that only amplified his sense of isolation. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain, as he stumbled through the storm, each step heavy with the weight of his shattered hopes.

One woman in the crowd stepped forward, her voice gentle yet filled with sadness. "He's lost everything," she whispered to her companion. "There's nothing we can do."

Another observer, a young man with haunted eyes, added, "The nobility's grip is too strong. They won't help him, no matter how much he suffers."

Hato's vision blurred, the world around him spinning as exhaustion and despair overcame him. His legs gave way beneath him, and he collapsed onto the drenched ground, the rain soaking him to the bone.

He curled into a fetal position, his body shuddering with the force of his cries, his mind consumed by the unbearable pain of his loss.

The storm raged on, the heavens weeping alongside him, as Hato felt the last vestiges of his strength drain away.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a struggle against the weight of his grief. The cold rain soaked his clothes, chilling him to the core, while his heart burned with a pain that seemed impossible to bear.

In that moment, Hato's world dissolved into darkness, the sounds of the storm fading into a distant echo as he slipped into unconsciousness. His body lay broken and battered, a testament to the depths of his despair.

The rain continued to fall, washing away his tears, but unable to cleanse the profound sorrow that had consumed him.

The onlookers watched in silent sorrow, their hearts heavy with the sight of a man who had lost everything.

The bitter reality of their society's cruelty settled over them like the storm, leaving a lingering sense of helplessness and regret. They turned away, the image of Hato's broken form etched into their memories, a poignant reminder of the cost of nobility's pride and indifference.

As Hato lay there, the storm seemed to mirror his internal chaos, a perfect symphony of nature's fury and his shattered spirit.

The world had indeed collapsed around him, leaving him in the abyss of his own despair, the once proud Captain now a broken soul lost to the darkness.

As he lay there, the rain mingling with the blood and tears on his face, Hato felt his world collapse around him. The despair was too much, too overwhelming, and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, the darkness pulling him under.

The last thing he heard before the world went black was the sound of the guards' laughter, echoing in his ears like the cruel laughter of the gods themselves.

And then, there was nothing.

___

Ruchir's heart felt heavy as the last remnants of Captain Hato's memories faded away, leaving him in a sea of confusion and sorrow.

The raw emotion of the scenes he had witnessed—the deep love Hato had for his family, the unbearable burden of his duties, and the cruel hand fate had dealt him—overwhelmed Ruchir.

He couldn't shake the image of the captain, a man once full of hope and love, slowly descending into despair and darkness. It was heart-wrenching.

As Ruchir grappled with his thoughts, the world around him began to shift. The vivid images of Hato's past crumbled like fragile paper, disintegrating into nothingness. The colors bled into one another before fading into a deep, impenetrable darkness.

Ruchir felt himself falling, his body suspended in a void where time and space no longer seemed to exist.

He tried to grasp at the crumbling fragments, to hold onto the last pieces of the story he had just witnessed, but they slipped through his fingers like sand.

Suddenly, the darkness around him thickened, pressing in from all sides. Ruchir's breath quickened as a sense of foreboding settled over him.

He was no longer alone. A presence—a powerful, malevolent force—approached from within the shadows. Ruchir's eyes darted around, searching for the source, until a figure slowly materialized before him.

It was Captain Hato.

But this Hato was different from the one Ruchir had seen in the memories. This Hato was not the warm, loving father or the dedicated catcher.

This Hato radiated a dark, twisted energy, his aura steeped in malice. His once gentle eyes were now hard and unforgiving, filled with a cold rage that sent shivers down Ruchir's spine. The demonic aura surrounding Hato pulsed with power, suffocating the space around them.