Shadows in the Crimson Mist
"In the crimson mist, shadows reveal the true faces of fear and fury."
— Letter from Hotaru no Yakusha
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The battlefield was swallowed by a thick, blood-red mist, curling and twisting like serpents across the ravaged earth.
Shindō's breath came sharp and steady as he moved through the haze, every sense heightened, every shadow a threat lurking just beyond sight.
The mist was a cruel veil—masking friend and foe alike,
turning allies into ghosts, and enemies into demons born of nightmare.
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Yuuki's voice broke through the suffocating silence, calm and unwavering.
"In the crimson mist, truth is obscured, but fear and fury lay bare."
Her words echoed in Shindō's mind as steel met steel,
the clash ringing out like a death knell in the fog.
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Figures emerged—twisted silhouettes of Hotaru no Yakusha's cultists, their eyes burning with fanatic light.
The dance of blades was fierce and relentless, a deadly symphony played in shades of red and shadow.
Shindō fought with every ounce of will left,
each strike a defiant scream against the encroaching darkness.
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When the mist finally began to lift,
the ground was littered with fallen and broken.
But the shadows that lingered in the clearing told a story of unyielding resolve.
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The war waged on,
and in the crimson mist, only the strongest survived.