Chapter 8: The Voice of Children

Time, within Aether's Realm, was a capricious beast. It could stretch into monotony, compress into adrenaline, or, as now, blur into an amalgamation of weeks turned into an eternity. Six weeks, according to external reports, since reality had fractured. Six weeks since the world had become this death trap. But how much time had really passed for him? The days merged into an indistinguishable mass, marked only by the fall of the Bosses and the persistent stillness of his own existence.

People had grown accustomed to it. They adapted to the horror, building villages and routines. A tenuous peace, built on fear and denial, but peace nonetheless. It was an adaptation that Kazuo observed without judgement, but with a strange detachment. He didn't need to adapt; he had always been this way.

The wind whistled through the leaves, carrying fragments of conversations that rose and fell, forced laughter and whispers of despair. Suddenly, a collective murmur broke the calm, escalating into screams and shouts.

'Run! It's the beast! It's coming from the south!'

'It's here! It's the Crimson Crawler!'

Kazuo stopped in his tracks. Indifference was his shield, armour forged over years. Other people's problems were not his. He had his own path, his own goals, defined by cold, pragmatic logic. There was no reason to stop. There was no justification.

But then, in the forced silence of his mind, a voice.

Save them, Kazuo.

Again, a woman's voice. Soft, but with an authority that resonated deep within him, a discordant note that always found a way to pierce his emotional armour. His jaw tightened. An almost imperceptible twitch ran through his eye. He wanted to ignore it, annihilate it, bury it under layers of indifference. It was annoying. It was an interruption. An old wound that refused to heal.

Save them.

It repeated, more insistent, like an icy breeze that made his skin crawl. Kazuo let out a low, barely audible growl that was lost in the wind. His fists clenched, his knuckles white. His path was set, but that voice... that damn voice always led him astray. With cold frustration barely visible on his face, he turned on his heels. It wasn't a decision, it was an imposition. A torment. He moved towards the source of the cries.

Meanwhile, in Rayushen's fortress, the air vibrated with a different energy. Aiko, now with a firmer stance and a renewed sparkle in her eyes, trained with feverish intensity. Sweat drenched her red hair, and the rhythmic sound of her sword clashing with Yui's spear echoed across the training courtyard.

'Harder, Aiko! Feel the impact! Your body remembers, you just have to listen to it!' Yui's voice was a mixture of encouragement and demand, her movements fluid and powerful. Aiko grunted, her muscles protesting, but the determination on her face was unbreakable. She had promised herself that she would never be a spectator again.

Suddenly, a translucent interface screen appeared in front of Yui, interrupting the training. The pale blue glow projected into her eyes.

[Monster Alert – Threat Level: HIGH – Type: Infiltration – Location: Rafter Village, South Sector – Priority: Beta-1]

Yui's face hardened instantly. A "Beta-1" meant a high-level threat, a creature that was not only strong but also dangerous to populated areas. Rafter Village... was a small border community, a few hours away from Rayushen, vulnerable and with few defenders.

'Aiko! We have an emergency!' Yui sheathed her spear with a quick movement and turned, her tone now tinged with urgency. 'Infiltrating monster in Rafter Village. I need a reconnaissance squad. Stay here, continue your training and prepare the other recruits. This is not a mission for you... yet.'

Aiko nodded, her gaze fixed on the flickering screen. There was a new fire in her eyes. The rage of what she had lost, the vow never to be weak again. She wanted to go, but she knew Rayushen needed her, and her role was different now. She watched Yui run, giving orders to the soldiers and preparing for departure. Frustration was a bitter taste in her mouth, but Yui's discipline was unbreakable. Aiko could only train. Train and wait for the day when she could face her past... and her future.

An Unexpected Encounter

In the bustling streets of Rafter Village, chaos had erupted. Makeshift wooden houses shook under the impact of an invisible monster, while villagers ran in all directions, their screams echoing. Kazuo moved through the crowd, his dark figure almost a shadow in the collective hysteria. His 'Eye of the Soul' glowed, revealing the flickering auras of fear and the red shadows of a hostile, slender, and swift presence weaving between the buildings.

Suddenly, an impact knocked him off balance. A boy, no more than eight years old, stumbled into him, falling to the ground with a yelp. He carried a small leather backpack on his shoulders, and his face was covered in soot and tears.

'I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, sir!' The boy jumped to his feet, his large, frightened eyes fixed on Kazuo. 'You have to hide! The monster... it's around here! It'll be here any minute!' His voice was a thread of fear, but there was a desperate urgency in it.

Kazuo didn't respond, his cold gaze analysing the boy.

The innocence on that face, the overwhelming terror. There was no logical reason to stop. There was no mission.

But the voice. Save them, Kazuo.

The boy, seeing Kazuo's immobility and the growing panic around him, instinctively grabbed the edge of his cloak, his little fingers trembling. 'Please, sir! Follow me! There's no time!'

Kazuo, with a slight internal grimace of annoyance at the boy's persistence and grip, allowed himself to be led. His steps were long and measured, following the child through the narrow alleys and ruins of houses. The air grew thicker, heavy with a sour, metallic smell.

They came to a half-destroyed hut, hidden behind a collapsed barn. The interior was dark and damp. In a corner, on a makeshift pallet, a little girl, perhaps six years old, lay motionless. Her skin had a pale greenish hue, and her breathing was shallow and rapid. The boy ran towards her, a trembling spoon in his hand, trying to feed her some porridge from a wooden bowl.

'Sister, please... you have to eat. You have to get better.' Tears rolled down the boy's cheeks as the girl moaned weakly, unable to swallow.

Kazuo watched the scene, his gaze taking in every detail. Two children alone.

In a world where even adults were falling apart. Something in his mind, something ancient and buried, stirred.

'What are two children doing here?' Kazuo's low, deep voice broke the tense silence. It was the first time he had spoken more than a few words. His tone was not one of anger, but of a cold, almost incomprehensible curiosity.

The boy jumped, looking at Kazuo with frightened eyes. 'Our... our parents... bought the game for them. But we snuck in. We put on the headsets one day... when they weren't looking. We wanted to play together... and now we can't get out! Mum and Dad... are out there, in the real world. They don't know we're here.'

The girl on the bed let out a whimper, and an uncontrollable tremor ran through her small body. "She... she was bitten. By the monster.

Kazuo, his face impassive, approached the girl. He knelt down, his hand reaching out without touching her, observing the colour of her skin, the pattern of the veins beneath it. A fleeting memory, almost a whisper, of something he had seen before, a knowledge that did not belong to this world.

'It's the poison of the Crimson Crawler,' Kazuo said, his voice as flat as ever, but with a hint of recognition. 'It's not instantly fatal. It causes gradual paralysis, intense pain, and weakness until the heart stops.' His description was clinical, devoid of emotion, but accurate.

The boy nodded frantically, his eyes filled with tears. 'Yes! That's it! At first it just hurt, but now he can't move!'

Kazuo took a small glass bottle from his cloak. It contained an iridescent blue liquid. A potion he had kept.

The same one he had used on Aiko. He only had two left, counting this one. He poured a few drops into the girl's mouth. The effect was almost instantaneous. The greenish colour on her skin began to dissipate, and her breathing became deeper and more even. Her little fists relaxed.

'She's better! Sister!' the boy exclaimed, a wave of relief sweeping across his face.

Kazuo stood up, his figure imposing. 'You won't be safe here. There's a kingdom nearby. I'll take you there. You'll be protected.' His voice, though lacking warmth, carried a weight of determination.

Outside, news of the Shiranai who had spoken, and of his act of rescue, spread like wildfire. In a living room, a woman in her forties, with deep circles under her eyes and a phone pressed to her ear, listened to the person on the other end. It was the mother of the poisoned girl. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

'My daughter is... alive? And she's okay? Oh, my God, thank you!' Her voice was a sob of pure relief. The news that the children were in the game had been a daily agony for her.

In a café in Akihabara, phone screens and televisions vibrated with the news. A young woman with green-dyed hair, who had earlier declared her love for 'the black sweatshirt glitch,' rose from her seat, her eyes shining.

'Did you hear that?! He spoke! He spoke and saved those children! He's a hero! A true hero!'

Her friend, with a smile of disbelief, gave her a gentle tap on the head. 'Come back down to earth, dreamer! He's still the guy who dismembered a monster like it was a toy. But yeah... it's something.'

On the forums, messages were piling up at breakneck speed:

💬 @LegendarioKazuo: 'He finally spoke! And to save some children! I always knew there was more to him than just rage!' 💬 @AetherWatch: "The "uncontrollable variable" has a human side. Does this change the psychological profile Sōma Ishiguro is looking for?' 💬 @SilentHero: 'He's not a hero. He's just a guy doing what he thinks he has to do. He's not looking for glory, that's what makes him different.' 💬 @AntiShiranai: 'Don't be fooled! He's a serial monster killer. He does it for himself, not for anyone else.' 💬 @DesperateMother: 'Please, Shiranai, save my son too! He's our only hope!'

Inside the cabin, the girl now slept peacefully, her breathing steady. The boy, relief written on his face, approached Kazuo. 'Thank you, sir. Thank you so much!"

Kazuo stood up, his figure imposing. He had fulfilled the voice's request. He had fulfilled the strange imposition. But his mission was not to take care of children. His mission was something else. It was his own search for something that even he did not fully understand.

'I'm leaving,' Kazuo said, his voice barely a whisper, but firm.

The boy clung to his cloak. 'No! Sir, don't go! The monster! It's still out there! Please wait!'

Kazuo did not respond. He ignored the boy's desperate grip. His gaze turned towards the exit. The creature. Thin and fast. It released different types of poisons. A challenge. And one more obstacle in his path. There was no time for delays.

With a determined step, Kazuo left the hut. The village was still in ruins, the houses destroyed and the air heavy with the acrid smell of poison. The 'Eye of the Soul' activated. A thin, almost ethereal, dark red figure moved at breakneck speed through the rubble, leaving a trail of green smoke in its wake. The Crimson Crawler. Its eyes, two bright red points of light, fixed on Kazuo. Its body, made of dark, shiny chitin, contracted, ready to attack. It was the silhouette of a predator, with long, thin legs ending in sharp claws. From its mouth, a greenish fluid dripped, sizzling as it touched the ground.

The monster did not hesitate. It lunged at him with deceptive speed, almost a blur in the air. It was not a frontal attack, but a flurry of quick swipes, leaving a trail of poison in the air with every movement. The Crawler was a dance of death and toxins.

Kazuo did not move backwards. Instead, he took a sideways step with dazzling speed, his body leaning like a shadow as the claws passed inches from his face. The poison sprayed the ground where he had been standing, dissolving the earth with a hiss. The 'Eye of the Soul' showed him the monster's energy fluctuations: not just its speed, but the type of poison it was about to release.

The Crimson Crawler changed direction in an instant, moving to flank him. It was intelligent, trying to corner him with its speed and toxic clouds. But Kazuo had already anticipated the move. Instead of dodging, he unleashed a burst of kinetic energy at his feet, a controlled explosion that propelled his body in an unexpected direction, throwing the monster off balance for a fraction of a second. It wasn't an attack, but a calculated interruption that broke the predator's rhythm.

The Crawler, annoyed by the setback, released a denser, darker cloud of poison, intending to cover the entire area. It was a corrosive poison that could melt even weapons. Kazuo felt it. He couldn't avoid the cloud, but he could use it.

As the poison spread, he activated a translucent energy field around his own body, an imperceptible dome that repelled the largest drops of poison, although the air around him became thick and heavy. The Crawler, believing Kazuo was trapped, lunged for a final attack, its form thin as a deadly needle.

But at the last second, Kazuo appeared from the toxic cloud. He hadn't used pure speed. He had used the repulsion of the poison itself, amplified by a controlled burst of energy from his personal field, to propel himself forward, an unpredictable action that the game system couldn't calculate. It was a fusion of his own power and the environment, something that made no sense to programmed logic.

Kazuo's fist, wrapped in a dense wave of whitish energy, met the Crawler's head. It wasn't a simple blow. It was a concentrated explosion of pure force, a shockwave of power that was released at the point of impact. The monster's chitinous shell cracked with a sharp, unpleasant sound, like metal breaking. The Crimson Crawler was thrown backwards with tremendous force, bouncing off the debris and the wall of a house, leaving a dent.

But it wasn't dead. It was resilient, its body already healed of poisons. It staggered, its red eyes fixed on Kazuo, letting out a high-pitched cry of rage.

It lunged again, this time with more desperation, trying to bite with its jaws, splattering more poison. Kazuo moved with relentless precision. His 'Eye of the Soul' showed him a flickering point of light at the base of its jaw. It wasn't its main core, but a poison gland, its source of toxic power.

The Crawler was fast, but Kazuo was a spectre of pure strength and reaction. He dodged a charge, spun on his heel, and with a sideways blow of his fist, loaded with a wave of concentrated energy, struck the gland. There was a sound of something breaking from within. The Crawler groaned.

A cloud of purple, corrosive poison burst from its gland, but the gland itself collapsed. The monster had lost its primary weapon. The Crimson Crawler went mad. Its speed became erratic, its attacks desperate. It moved aimlessly, crashing into walls, leaving traces of its damaged body behind. Kazuo followed.

Without haste. Without emotion. Like a methodical hunter. Each of Kazuo's blows was a devastating impact of brute force, aimed at the joints, at the exposed weak points. One after another, the Crawler's thin legs broke, its movements becoming slow and spasmodic.

Finally, the Crimson Crawler fell, its body trembling on the ground, its chitin now broken in multiple places. Its breathing was a series of rasping gasps. It was defeated. Kazuo raised his fist, and in the air, a wave of dense white energy covered him, an immense force crackling around his hand. He approached the monster. There were no screams, no cries. Only the cold, inevitable arrival of the end. The final blow was a devastating, dry impact that shook the ground with the magnitude of the force unleashed. The Crimson Crawler exploded into a cloud of black ash and fragments of chitin, leaving behind only absolute silence.

[Congratulations. You have defeated the Crimson Crawler. Skill acquired: 'Purifying Touch'.]

The message appeared in front of Kazuo, and he closed it with a sharp gesture. His face showed no satisfaction, only a slight lifting of his jaw. It was done.

The villagers, who had been hiding, began to slowly emerge from their shelters, their eyes fixed on Kazuo. The two children ran out of the hut, their eyes filled with awe and gratitude.

'Sir! You did it!' the boy shouted, running towards him, the girl in his arms. 'You saved the village! You saved us all!'

Kazuo remained silent, his eyes scanning the devastated village. He did not respond to their thanks. There was no need. He had not done it for them. He had done it because the voice had ordered him to, and because the creature was an obstacle. His gaze lingered on a half-destroyed house, its roof charred, its walls collapsed. A broken crib lay on the floor. And in his mind, an echo. The cry of a child. Distant. Ancient. A memory.

Kazuo blinked. The echo faded. He returned to reality. The villagers surrounded him, whispering, some kneeling in gratitude. Kazuo turned away. There was nothing more to do here. His path continued. He walked away from the village, leaving behind the ruins and grateful hearts, an enigma shrouded in silence.