Fractures

With a disdainful gesture, the Yokaï tossed old Gribou's mutilated torso at the feet of the three Guardians.The body crashed down with a dull, wet thud, splattering the snow with bloody droplets.The old man's face, frozen in a silent scream, still seemed to plead, trapped in a final terror.The creature raised its glowing red gaze toward them, without a word.A slow sneer stretched across its deformed face.Its eyes alone were enough to scream the promise of an imminent massacre.

Maïwenn, motionless, stared at the corpse.Her face hardened even more, sculpted by a deep, silent rage.A translucent aura escaped from her, surrounding her body like a living mist.She took a long breath, briefly closed her eyes… then reopened them, fixed on the Yokaï.

Bann grabbed his thick gloves, marked with finely embroidered stars, slipped them on with a firm, unwavering gesture.When he tightened the last strap, a wave of energy shot out, snaking along his forearms.He exhaled a sharp breath, locked his gaze on the monster, then raised his guard, fists up, a bright glow around his knuckles.

Milo, usually so confident, felt his throat tighten.His breathing turned ragged, his gaze oscillating between terror and rage.He slowly drew his wakizashi, the blade rasping with a pure sound.A translucent glow ran along his fingers, flooding the blade.Milo inhaled, hands trembling but steady.He was ready.

The Yokaï, standing at its monstrous height, towered over them like a living shadow.Its body, swollen with abnormal muscles, seemed to almost crack with each movement, covered with dark veins pulsing with awkward energy.

Around it, a black, viscous aura escaped in bursts, snaking in places, then retracting, as if still searching for its path.

This energy, poorly channeled, vibrated irregularly, creating jolts in the air, an almost palpable pressure.

Maïwenn's voice snapped, dry, sharp, almost a military order :

— We stop it here. It doesn't take another step. Otherwise… all will be lost.

She had barely finished when a sinister hiss sliced through the air.With a sharp and brutal gesture, the Yokaï swept the space before it, projecting a long blade of pure energy, a black, sharp half-moon, flying straight toward them.

Bann reacted instantly. He stepped forward, crossed his massive forearms, the gloves vibrating with a bright light. The impact struck him full force, pushing him back several meters, his heels carving furrows in the frozen earth. Despite his extraordinary strength, he grimaced under the shock, his aura sizzling violently along his arms.

Taking advantage of this opening, Milo and Maïwenn lunged forward, each on a flank of the monster.

Milo leaped to the right, his wakizashi raised. He struck with lightning precision, aiming at the base of the neck. But the Yokaï, with a brutal backhand of its clawed hand, struck the flat of the blade and deflected it, as if swatting away a twig.

At the same moment, Maïwenn, crouched, slipped under the monster's blind spot. Her palm, surrounded by a shifting glow, pressed against the Yokaï's flank.

A dazzling energy discharge exploded, a silent flash plunging into the thick flesh.The monster, still focused on Milo, clenched its teeth and let out a hoarse growl. In the same movement, it slammed its fist down on Milo. The blow hit him full force, hurling him against a wall several meters away.

Milo crashed into the stone with a dull thud. His breath caught, and a gush of blood spurted from his mouth and nose, splattering his chest. He fell to the ground, face bruised, body trembling, trying to get back up, swaying.

Meanwhile, the Yokaï, feeling Maïwenn's attack persist, spun around violently. It lashed the air with its tail, striking Maïwenn's arm hard.

She leapt back just in time to dodge a massive kick aimed at her head. Her silhouette skimmed the ground before rising again, light and swift despite the pain already pulsing through her forearm.

She was immediately joined by Bann, who had rushed to cover her retreat.Milo, despite his injuries, leaped from a rooftop after circling the battlefield. He landed near them, his face marked by a large bruise, blood still smearing his entire face.

Maïwenn, without even glancing away from the monster, murmured:— You okay?Milo wiped his mouth with a trembling backhand, a strained smile twisting his face.— I'll survive…Bann simply nodded, forearms numb, eyes locked on the Yokaï, ready to resume the fight.

The Yokaï brought a hand to its left flank, as if searching for a possible injury. It hadn't felt anything in particular when Maïwenn had touched it. A wide smile then split its monstrous face, revealing its predatory teeth.

— Pathetic… it growled.

Maïwenn didn't react to the provocation. Without even looking away from the monster, she murmured in a low voice, almost imperceptible:

— I managed to weaken its left flank… It doesn't know yet. We'll attack from all sides to create an opening. As soon as it appears, one of you will have to strike, aim for that area, and wound it mortally. It's too fast, too strong… We won't have the right to make a mistake.

She took a deep breath, steadied her stance.

— Go.

In a breath, they scattered, swooping toward their target like sharp shadows.

The fight burst into a blazing chaos, a true hurricane of blades, fists, and energy.

Maïwenn whirled around the Yokaï, sliding in the snow, narrowly dodging claws that brushed past her like a breath. Every step was a desperate dance; her arms already marked by fine cuts, her breath short, and each impact pushed her back a little more.

Weakened, she persisted nonetheless. Taking advantage of an opening, she leaped and, with a fluid movement, placed her hand directly on the monster's skull, between its two horns, supporting herself with one arm. She unleashed a silent energy discharge there. A shiver shook the Yokaï's skull, spreading down to its neck, creating an invisible fault.

Milo, seeing the Yokaï's attention diverted, didn't hesitate for a second. He threw his sword straight up into the sky above them, the blade disappearing into the night, briefly shimmering under the moon before vanishing.

No one saw it. Not even the demon.

In those few seconds, the three warriors redoubled their efforts. Bann advanced, taking monstrous blows, getting as close as possible to divert the attention. Each strike made him tremble, but he did not retreat. He struck again and again, his arms shaking under the force.Milo circled around the Yokaï, a small dagger in his left hand. He struck, searched for an opening… in vain. His blade only grazed the hard surface, almost bouncing off.

Out of breath, feverish, Milo continued, driven by a rage mixed with fear, desperately looking for the slightest opening.

When the sword descended again, Bann, exhausted, attempted one last attack to divert the monster's attention. But the Yokaï was faster and slammed an explosive elbow right into his solar plexus. A sinister crack resounded: his ribcage broke cleanly.

His body flew, smashed through a tree, then crashed into the wall of a house. The house collapsed in a monstrous crash, burying the young warrior under the rubble.

Milo, mid-air and already above the monster, ready to catch the falling blade, saw it all. His heart twisted in horror.

— BANN! he screamed, voice broken.

That single moment of hesitation sealed his fate.

The Yokaï suddenly looked up and saw him, then vanished from the ground in a brutal air burst — just before the blade would have pierced its skull.

Maïwenn screamed, her face twisted in panic:

— MILO! MOVE!

But it was too late.

The Yokaï reappeared in a monstrous roar, right above Milo. In an inhuman, lightning-fast move, it twisted mid-air and, with a brutal heel kick, struck Milo in full flight.

The impact was horrifying.

The young man's body crashed heavily to the ground, a dry thud accompanying the crack of his bones.His blade rolled further away, sinking halfway into the snow.

The demon, descending immediately, stomped violently on his body with a brutal step, as if to ensure no life remained.

Milo's gaze, now empty, stayed fixed on a sky he would never see again.

He was dead on the spot.

Maïwenn screamed, an animal wail, pure, raw.

— NOOOOOOOOOOO !

Despair twisted her face. She threw herself on the blade that had fallen nearby, grabbed the hilt, and charged at the Yokaï, drunk with rage.

The fight turned back into a deadly dance, Maïwenn attacking relentlessly, slashing the air, pivoting, seeking the slightest opening. But each strike was nothing but a scrape against a living armor. The monster repelled her, countered her, wounded her. Her breath turned ragged, her body grew heavier. Blood flowed from her arms and forehead.

As it raised its arm, ready to deliver a fatal blow that would have crushed Maïwenn, a figure appeared behind it. Bann.

His body was at its limit, his breath irregular. But his arms wrapped around the monster's torso and arms in a final effort, his muscles straining to the extreme.— NOW ! he shouted, his voice distorted by pain.

Maïwenn, without hesitation, plunged the blade deep into the already weakened left flank. She poured all the energy she had left into it. A burning flow filled the monster's body, which screamed in a monstrous, inhuman cry.Black blood spewed from its mouth, its veins swelled, and its entire body trembled. Bann, arms still clinging, squeezed with all his strength, holding on more by will than by real force.The Yokaï, furious, gradually pried apart Bann's arms, trying to break free. Bann gritted his teeth, but already, the monster's overwhelming strength was breaking his hold, inch by inch.In a brutal effort, the Yokaï finally grabbed the young man's forearms and snapped them clean. A sinister crack resounded. Bann released his grip in a tearing scream, maddened by pain.Taking advantage of the opening, the demon delivered a lightning knee strike to Maïwenn's head, still crouched and clinging to the sword. She was hurled ten meters away, unconscious, her face smeared with blood.The Yokaï's tail grabbed Bann's leg and threw him heavily onto his back. The young man, screaming in pain, stared at his broken arms, his eyes wide with horror.The demon turned, joined its hands, and brought down a terrible blow on Bann's skull.

A spray of blood splattered the snow for several meters, staining the ground around the lifeless body.

In the crowd, Yahiko and Mata stood frozen, their eyes wide with horror.Yahiko, breathing hard, couldn't tear his gaze away from old Gribou's mutilated body. An icy sadness gripped him, mixed with powerless rage.

Next to him, Mata trembled, fists clenched. His lips endlessly murmured: "Not again… Not this time…"

A wild gleam flashed in Mata's eyes.

Then, without warning, he let out a scream, drew an old sword from his belt, and charged straight at the Yokaï.

Yahiko, at first petrified, felt his heart clench. Mata ! Why ? No !

— Stop! he finally screamed, his voice torn by fear and anger.

Everything blurred. Yahiko knew, deep down, that he could do nothing against such a monster.

Even if he had already faced death and triumphed once, it had been against a demon he had managed to defeat at the cost of all his courage and every ounce of his strength.

But this creature… it was another world.

Here, he faced a monster that had just crushed three Guardians, elite fighters trained for this kind of horror. So what could they, he and Mata, hope for ?

Yahiko understood his friend's madness… but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to him, as if he still hoped to pull him away from his fate.

A burning lump rose in his throat, his vision blurred. A tear rolled down his cheek, mixed with a cold shiver.

Mata, as he charged, felt a wave of anguish rise within him. It wasn't the fear of the monster that gnawed at him, but the fear of not being enough.

He thought of Yahiko, his childhood friend. Of Fumi, of Haruka, of the entire village. He refused to let the tragedy of ten years ago repeat. No child should relive what he had endured: the loss of a parent, that insurmountable abyss.

Even if it meant his life, he had decided: there would be no more orphans.These thoughts crossed him like a flash, igniting a fierce flame within. He felt his doubts rise, stand like a wall, but he managed to break through them. His mind emptied, leaving only absolute, almost inhuman concentration.

His body reacted with instinctive sharpness. Mata knew it, he would never match the raw power of the Guardians, but his speed made him formidable: nervous, unpredictable, swift as lightning.

Absolutely focused on what awaited him, in a state close to a trance, every muscle tense, every breath measured to the millimeter. His wide eyes caught the slightest movement. Nothing else existed but this precise moment, this devil before him.

He charged with furious intensity, his old sword clenched in his hand. He was immediately surprised, stopped dead by the monster's lightning reaction. A first unstoppable blow nearly cut him down — he dodged it only by pure instinct, a miracle of reflex.

From then on, he avoided the Yokaï's attacks with an almost supernatural precision — each dodge passed within a hair's breadth of death.

Every movement of the monster made the ground tremble, the vibrations striking Mata's chest. The claws, when they slashed through the snow, sent up white sprays, a sharp noise echoing in the icy air. Mata sometimes slid on the frozen ground, sweat burning his eyes despite the biting cold.

"Dance, insect…" the Yokaï whispered, a cruel sneer twisting its face. It brought its claws down, barely missing the boy. The scraping against a rock hidden under the snow made Mata shiver.The boy retaliated, desperately striking the monster's chest whenever an opening appeared, or each time the Yokaï, confident in its dominance, let him try.

His blows bounced off a skin as hard as tempered steel, producing a metallic, hollow sound. He gripped his weapon's hilt so tightly that his fingers, already bloodied, trembled.In a final effort, he brought his sword down once more. A sinister crack resounded — the blade snapped cleanly. The shock threw him backward, the shrill cry of the broken metal echoing like a death knell.

The Yokaï emitted a low sound, similar to a mocking laugh.

Panting, Mata did not give in. He then saw the thin wound on the Yokaï's left flank, a thin trickle of black blood still escaping — the only wound inflicted by the Guardians. A glimmer of hope shone in his eyes.

"I have to give everything to reach it…" he thought, tightening the remnants of his weapon.

The Yokaï didn't give him the luxury of finishing his thought and leaped, its massive hand slamming down on Mata. This time, he couldn't fully dodge the attack. The blow shattered his left arm with a dull crack, and pain radiated throughout his body.

The sword slipped from his hand. But in an instinctive jolt, Mata shifted left, grabbed the blade in a desperate gesture with his still-valid arm, and, gathering all the strength he had left, stabbed the remains of his weapon straight into the monster's wound.

Against all odds, no groan escaped from the Yokaï's mouth. Mata immediately understood it wasn't enough. The monster lowered its head, its burning gaze fixed on him.In fear, the boy stepped back and jumped backward at full speed despite his broken arm.

But he made a mistake: his feet, still in the air, remained exposed.

"Slice…" murmured the Yokaï, its voice low and icy — the same dark invocation it had used to project its energy blade at Bann.

The monster's hand moved so fast it almost vanished.

A sharp snap, a crack: Mata felt a searing pain tear through his left leg. The snow, splattered red, marked the spot where his foot had been cleanly sliced off.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped him. He collapsed with all his weight into the snow, his breath forming icy clouds. The biting cold seemed to want to soothe the unbearable burn of his gaping wound. He rolled to the side, his trembling hands trying to contain the blood, but it escaped relentlessly.

When Yahiko saw Mata's foot fly off, his breath caught. A dull pain filled his chest, as if his own body shared his friend's torment.

The Yokaï, still standing, calmly tore out what remained of the sword planted in its flank. It threw it away with contempt, then turned its burning gaze toward the boy lying at its feet."I'm coming, little insect," it murmured in an icy voice.

Mata, despite the pain, turned his head toward Yahiko, frozen in fear.At first, Yahiko felt petrified, as if his body were pinned to the ground by an insurmountable weight. The sight of Mata, lying in the snow, mutilated and bleeding, took his breath away. But this paralysis was soon replaced by another sensation, deeper, hotter: a dull rage, a fire rising within him, sweeping away the fear like a violent wind.

"He's dying… for us…" That nagging thought echoed in his mind. Yahiko clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his flesh. He wanted to scream, hit, run to face the creature himself.

But deep down, he remembered Maïwenn's words: As long as you don't control this power, you put your life in danger.

Despite that, the image of Mata, his best friend, sacrificing everything, only fueled his anger. And anyway… what other choice did he have? Die at the hands of this monster or die consumed by this power?

Yahiko felt his legs tremble, but this time, it wasn't from fear. This strange, raw energy boiled inside him, like a furious beast he struggled to contain.

His friend, despite the pain, continued to fight. Lying in the snow, one arm broken and his leg mutilated, he was still breathing. His eyes, despite the agony, still searched for Yahiko — like a final call.The Yokaï placed a massive foot on his shoulder, crushing it mercilessly. Mata groaned, his face twisted. The monster savored it, a cruel smile distorting its face.

— How long will you last, little insect? it growled, in a deep, icy voice.

"Stop…" murmured Yahiko.

As he stepped forward, tears streamed down his cheeks, his gaze now fixed, burning.

"Stop, I said !" he screamed.

A raw energy suddenly burst from him, like a long-contained geyser. The ground beneath his feet cracked, jagged fissures ran through the frozen snow. A shockwave sent the flakes flying, the lanterns wavered before going out, snuffed out by this new force.

A blinding, unstable white halo enveloped Yahiko. His veins glowed with a supernatural silver, his breath quickened, each heartbeat echoing like a war drum.

This pure, uncontrollable power already overwhelmed him, and his vision blurred. Before he could understand, he felt everything tip — sucked away, swept toward an elsewhere he had no idea of.