chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Storm and the Sword

The sky wept.

Rain poured down in thick sheets over the grand estate that served as both a house of worship and the venue for Sohwo's funeral. This was no ordinary building; it stood tall with columns carved from polished marble, its walls inscribed with scriptures in ancient languages long forgotten by the common world. The house, a sanctuary devoted to the worship of Jehovah, was surrounded by vast gardens where the rain danced across every leaf and petal. Despite the storm, the pathways remained clean, almost miraculously untouched by mud or debris. The sanctity of the place seemed to repel corruption itself.

Inside, the vast hall was filled to the brim. Hundreds gathered—friends, family, elders, strangers—drawn together by grief, reverence, and mystery. Every attendee was clad in black. Some whispered prayers, some sobbed into tissues, and others simply stared forward, lost in thoughts too heavy to voice.

On the raised platform at the front of the room, a dignified man stood, delivering a talk meant to comfort the mourners. His voice, though calm and composed, trembled with emotion.

"Let us remember Sohwo not just for his sacrifices but for the truths he sought, the burdens he bore, and the light he passed on."

Divine sat apart from it all.

He was placed at a wooden chair at the far end of the hall, away from the center stage, by his Aunt Deborah—his mother's sister. She was sobbing quietly beside him, her shoulders shaking under the weight of sorrow. Divine glanced at her, studying the anguish etched into her face. She wasn't just crying for Sohwo. There was more. A history. A weight. A fear.

Deborah feared that the boy, already caught in the whirlwind of grief and mystery, might shatter further if exposed to more. She had insisted Divine remain seated at the side, away from the open casket and the speech.

As the talk continued, Divine noticed something.

He whispered under his breath, "Why didn't they let Mom come? She should be here. Even if it breaks her. She deserves to say goodbye."

Divine stared into space. How do I help her? How do I lift this weight?

Just then, a familiar voice broke his train of thought.

"Sharon?" he murmured.

He looked up.

There was his sister, Sharon, emerging from the main hall, her hand gripped by a woman Divine had never seen before. The woman was cloaked in black like everyone else, but there was something sinister in the air around her. Divine felt it—a pressure, a chill.

He jumped up and rushed toward them.

"Sharon! What are you doing? Who is this?!"

Sharon turned, startled. "What are you yelling about? Don't you remember her? This is Mom's friend. She used to visit sometimes."

Divine's eyes narrowed. "I've never seen her before."

The woman remained silent, her smile unsettling.

He turned back to Sharon. "When did she visit Mom?"

Before Sharon could answer, the woman gently placed a hand on Sharon's shoulder. "Can you give your brother and I a minute, dear?"

Sharon hesitated but nodded. She walked away, leaving Divine alone with the stranger.

Divine spoke first. "Are you one of the Defenders?"

The woman chuckled, her eyes glinting. "Seems one of his Defenders has already paid you a visit. How early... Sohwo was always unpredictable."

Divine took a step back.

"Your father... a good man. A mysterious one. But I never thought he'd hide the Key to Salvation inside you."

Her hand ignited into flame, the skin blackened and cracked like a vessel of wrath. Divine staggered backward. The image of the shadowy figure from the night before flashed through his mind. It was her.

Before he could scream, a voice called out to him from the hall.

The woman turned and walked past him like a ghost.

A relative approached. "Who was that lady, Divine?"

He stood frozen, too shaken to answer. They assumed his silence was from grief and guided him back inside.

---

Meanwhile, in the depths of the Outer Forest...

The sound of feet slamming against damp earth echoed between the trees. A slave girl and three men sprinted through the thick wilderness. The girl's breath was ragged. Panic in her eyes.

"Are you sure we'll get there safe?!" one of the men yelled.

"Yes! I'm sure!" the second man replied.

Then—fwish! An arrow of congealed, crimson energy shot from the shadows, piercing the second man's skull, passing through his eye. He collapsed in a gory heap.

The girl screamed.

"The Blood Taker! She's here!" the last two men shouted.

Suddenly, sleek sci-fi bikes emerged through the trees—hovercrafts with glowing crimson engines, spitting sparks and hissing mist as they hovered inches above the ground. The pursuers were armored in bio-tech suits, helmets marked with the insignia of the Order.

Blasts of light and blood-soaked bullets filled the forest.

The two men and the girl weaved through the chaos.

Then—a pause. A shadow descended.

In slow motion, a girl in sci-fi armor landed gracefully in front of them. Her eyes glowed with a red hue, and a blood-forged sword extended from her palm. Her presence was suffocating.

The two men stopped.

"Run, Karen!" one yelled.

The blood sword girl raised her hand, signaling her riders to chase Karen instead. The other two men stayed.

"Why did you betray the Order?" the girl asked.

"Because your teachings are lies! We're tired of being your dogs!"

"I see..." she whispered in Japanese.

One man raised his hand to the heavens. "Let the heavens roar with my judgment... Barache'l!"

A black lightning sword struck down into his grip.

He turned. "Ezekiel, run!"

"But—"

"RUN!"

Ezekiel fled.

The girl tilted her head. "You used your Covenant Blade... on me?"

The man charged.

"May the blood of the heavens... and the blood of Abraham flow within my enemy's veins!"

His veins erupted. Blood burst from his body, drawn toward her blade, growing longer.

He gasped.

She slashed.

Silence.

Karen reached a cliff and, with no time left, leapt.

Rick, a high-ranking Order officer, called his superior via sci-fi phone. "She's over the cliff. Injured but alive."

---

Karen Rose crawled to the riverbank.

Her leg was bleeding. She retrieved a small orb from her pouch—AncientTech: a glowing sphere containing micro-healing cells. She activated it and placed it on her wound. It released nano-particles that danced across her skin, closing the wound.

She looked into the water.

Flashbacks drowned her.

Her village. The screams. The fire. Her parents slaughtered by the Sins, creatures born of corrupted truth. She was the sole survivor.

She was rescued by the S.O.A.

Scientific Order Association.

They promised her peace.

Instead, she was their project.

Locked in labs. Needles. Data pads. Scans.

"Your blood is divine, Karen," they told her. "We need it."

Every day was pain.

Then she met Ezekiel and Dan. Soldiers. Quiet protectors.

They slipped her food. They gave her stories. They taught her to hope.

The night of the escape—screams, alarms, blood.

They ran.

And kept running.

Until today.

Her memory snapped back to the present.

A silhouette emerged.

Mikasa.

"Mikasa?" she gasped.

The girl smiled. "Everyone else is dead. You're the last."

---

Back at the funeral.

The service ended. Rain eased.

People gave Divine pats on the back, whispering, "Be strong. Help your mother."

Divine turned and noticed a group of hooded figures near the casket.

They performed an ancient rite.

An old man among them whispered. The others nodded.

Then he clapped.

The veil that kept them invisible dropped.

Now, others could see them.

Three walked up to Divine.

"Is this Sohwo's son?"

"Yes."

The old man smiled. "Don't be confused, my son. Soon... you'll understand how this world works."

They vanished into the crowd.

Divine sat, trembling.

A familiar voice. "You okay?"

He looked. It was Joseph.

"Why are you here?"

Joseph smiled faintly. "To help you."

To be continued...