threads of infinity Embers in the Void 32 (Merry Christmas)
Tsukasa emerged from the dense forest into the outskirts of the ruined city. His boots crunched against debris as he adjusted the remnants of his tattered cloak, brushing away ash and dirt. The once-bustling metropolis now lay in shambles, buildings leaning precariously and streets cracked open like jagged wounds. A faint, acrid smell lingered in the air—a mix of scorched metal, cursed energy, and despair.
He scanned the horizon, his Six Eyes flaring to life. The city pulsed with faint traces of cursed energy, scattered like fading embers of a dying fire. Amid the chaos, one trail stood out: erratic, pulsing, and alarmingly close to a cluster of human signatures.
His expression hardened. "Figures," he muttered, stepping forward with purpose.
The cursed energy grew stronger as he moved deeper into the city, weaving between collapsed structures and overturned vehicles. Every step brought him closer to a faint sound—muffled sobs and whispered prayers. The voices came from an old subway entrance, its shattered glass doors hanging limply on broken hinges.
Descending into the dimly lit passageway, Tsukasa was greeted by a chilling growl. A cursed spirit, grotesque and insectoid, scuttled along the ceiling. Its many eyes glinted in the faint light, each one locked onto the huddled civilians below.
Tsukasa's gaze shifted to the group—five of them, trembling against the wall. One woman held a child tightly, shielding her as best as she could.
The curse lunged toward its prey.
In an instant, Tsukasa raised a hand, releasing a precise, invisible burst of cursed energy. The creature exploded into a cloud of ash, its remains scattering across the tiles. The civilians gasped, their terror momentarily replaced by shock.
One of them, a young girl, peeked out from behind her mother. Her voice, small and trembling, broke the silence. "A-Are you here to help us?"
Tsukasa hesitated, the question echoing in his mind. His bloodstained hands clenched at his sides, memories of endless battles flashing through his mind.
"No," he said, his voice cool and distant. "I'm just here to clean up."
He turned without another word, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the ruined station. Yet, as he ascended the crumbling steps, a faint whisper followed him.
"Thank you..."
He paused at the threshold, his gaze lingering on the city ahead. For a fleeting moment, his hardened expression softened, before the weight of his purpose pulled him back into the void.