̣⭒˙✵• ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯☽✮☾⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ •✵˙⭒ ̣

何もかにもをこの俎上へと 理性さえも捕食対象

Can't stop, can't stop, eating

Can't stop, can't stop, lost myself

VORACITY – Myth & Roid

Tear leaps from rooftop to rooftop with precision, his body moving like a fluid extension of his will, exploiting every inch of the environment around him. Anice is right behind him, swift and silent, her lithe legs carrying her with effortless speed. The spires and arches of the bell tower loom in the distance, a signal that their target is near.

The custos consults the map on his smartphone with a quick swipe, his eyes fixed on the flickering points of four GPS signals. The coordinates of the three endangered Wolves blink on the screen, a beacon confirming they are in the right place. An unknown enemy? There's no hesitation in his movements—his mind is sharp, clear. Could there be another unknown Flower, like the one by the river during the war? The image of the hideous creature flashes through his mind, along with the frustration and helplessness he felt in that moment. His fingers tighten around the hilt of his sacred metal blade, the warm electric hum of the weapon tingling against his palm. It won't happen again.

Without a second thought, Tear quickens his pace, his breath and heartbeat syncing with the new rhythm. Two intersections. Just two more, and he'll be there. He plunges into the drop, Anice always on his tail. His feet hit the ground without a sound, and the city streets flow beneath him, weaving through the midday crowd. Solid legs, focused eyes—he scans for the church in the distance. There.

The familiar prickling sensation that comes with the presence of Flowers gnaws at the back of his mind. The next moment, a horrific sight greets him as he steps into the square: on tiptoe, balanced precariously on the edge of the fountain's basin, stands Eris. Her fingers are outstretched toward a creature of unimaginable size—a Flower, one never seen before. From that distance, the beast looks like a monstrous horse, towering like a two-story building, its wings folded darkly against its sides. Its black-silver hide ripples and contracts in a constant, spasmodic vibration, as if made of shifting grains of dark sand.

A metallic gleam catches the custos' eye across the fountain. The stray's friend. Nilde's weapon reflects the sunlight, the fiáin crouched and poised, preparing to close in on the danger, cautious but determined.

"Eris! Eris, please!" Nilde's voice cuts through the air, one step closer. "Come to me."

Tear's  gray-blue eyes drift over the silhouette of the building behind Nilde. The other two Wolves are perched on the roof, one of them instantly recognizable—Ernest, Eris's other friend. The third... He's one of the warriors who lived in the other apartment in Lyon. What was his name again? A split-second search through his mind, and it comes to him. Zoriar of the Grays. Why would a Lyon team be here in Marseille? I haven't heard anything about a mission in my sector.

"Eris!" The desperation in the girl's voice is nearly palpable, trembling on the edge of tears. "Get out of there!"

Amber fingers brush against the Flower's muzzle, and in an instant, the creature transforms into a dark, churning sandstorm, swallowing her whole. It rips through her flesh, leaving her marked and stained by contamination. A sharp whistle tears through the square—Ernest's arrow, launched from the roof. Tear holds his breath. No!

The arrow pierces Eris's back, just to the left of her spine. The impact throws her off balance, sending her crashing into the water, her body going still, face-down.

"Nest! What have you done?" Nilde's voice cracks in frantic panic, frozen in place.

Tear's body moves without thought—one step toward his ally, but then he remembers Anice at his side. The surge of instinct fades under the weight of his willpower. His grip tightens around the hilt of his weapon until it creaks. The frustration burning in his chest is worse than the last battle of the war. At least then, I had a monster pinning me to the ground. Now... what's stopping me? Is it the fear that Anice will tell Lady Celeste that I've interfered with a Wolf showdown? His nerves snap. The first step leads to another, then another, until he finds himself sprinting toward the fountain, under the wide-eyed gaze of Anice.

A shadow drops from the roof, blocking Tear's path to Eris. Ernest and Nilde finally notice the other two warriors now on their battlefield.

"What are you doing here?" Ernest snarls, an arrow nocked and aimed squarely at the Raven's eye, just a breath away.

"We don't need you, vultures!" Nilde snaps, showing her white teeth under lips cracked by the cold.

Anice's fractal-diamond shield rises between Tear and the two Wolves, separating him from the pair of enemies poised to strike.

"Zoriar, how is she?" Nilde asks, not looking away from the new threat. No answer. "Zoriar?"

The pair of Wolves and the pair of Ravens turn in perfect sync. The croí rises slowly, dripping water, her hair so long it sticks to her sides, slick and heavy. The dark fletching of the arrow in her back quivers with her every movement. Black fingers, dripping with miasma, trace along Zoriar's dark skin, his brown eyes burning with an intensity trapped in Eris's blinding white gaze.

"W-what's happening?" Anice stammers, clinging to Tear, her body trembling. Her shield shatters into fragments around her.

"No... not again! Eris!" Nilde stands frozen, panic overtaking her as she stares at the corruption unfolding on her friend's body.

"Eris... Eris, let him go!" Ernest lowers his bow and steps toward the fountain. "The corruption... it's—"

A strange warmth, almost like the heat of summer, spreads through the air, dulling the protests of the two Wolves and drawing a half-smile from Anice. The anomaly? It isn't the same pull she uses with the Flowers. It isn't the same one that had hummed within me on the bridge or atop that roof during the war. What does she intend to do with...? Before he can even ask himself, Zoriar's body crumples as though it's become nothing but a rag doll. One breath later, only golden dust remains, drifting lazily in the salty breeze. Tear swallows hard, his mind utterly blank. Did she... kill him?

The miasma's remnants fade quickly from the amber skin of Eris, her eyes beginning to glow again with their unnatural bicolor. The green of shamrock and the gray-blue of ice. She blinks once, twice, three times.  Her mismatched eyes staring at her trembling palms, her breath shortening, catching in her throat, before her gaze lifts to meet the four warriors standing just a few steps away. The spell breaks, and the warmth is replaced by the cold, slippery grip of terror.

"No, no, no," the croí repeats, her voice rising in a piercing crescendo of pure desperation. "Zoriar! No, please... Zoriar!"

Her fingers clutch at the boy's clothes as they slip away from his body, now almost entirely transformed into the carcass of a gray wolf. Anice holds her breath, horrified, hands covering her mouth. Her body retreats, hiding behind Tear's broad shoulders. Nilde collapses to her knees, pale, her scream trapped in her throat, unable to find its voice. Ernest darts toward the fountain, yanking his friend's lifeless form from Eris's grip, pulling it to safety, away from her.

"What... what have you done, Eris? What have you done?" he cries, holding the animal's limp body against his chest. "You... you're a monster! You've become like them... like the Flowers! Your father was right, we should have let you die of thirst!"

At those words, the croí pales, her eyes going glassy as her body crumples, sinking to sit on her heels, half-submerged in the fountain's water. Her bloodless lips move, whispering something inaudible, as tears fall silently down her cheeks. Her fingers dig into her scalp, tugging at the wet brown strands. A terrible scream rips through Eris's throat, and a cutting wind tears through the air, carrying the sound of her anguish. Tear holds his breath as the shockwave of the anomaly reverberates through his veins, breaking the rhythm of his heart, threatening to crush him to the ground like the Flower of the river.

A swarm of millions of brown-purple moths fills the streets like a rising tide, crashing into the square in a deafening wave of crackling and buzzing. Anice plants her feet to the ground, covering her face with both hands, her eyelids tightly shut. Tear raises his arm to shield his eyes, but his focus remains on Eris, barely visible in the storm of wings.

The custos charges through the roar of insects in the chaos, both weapons drawn, carving his path through the sea of soft, cotton-like wings. The blades begin to darken. Just as I suspected—it's miasma. The Raven reaches the fountain in one breath, his legs submerging into the water up to his knees without hesitation. A sharp burning begins to spread where the moths brush against him. There are too many. Tear drops his weapons and dives toward Eris, who is curled up into herself.

"Stray," he calls, shaking her. "Stray, look at me!"

He lifts her face between his palms, now blackened with corruption, the burning sensation barely touching him. Her mismatched eyes, heavy with tears, gaze at him without truly seeing him.

"It's happened again... it's happened again... it's happened again," she repeats in a faint voice. "I... I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster!" The words explode from the custos's lips, a fury unlike anything he's ever known. "You're not a monster, Eris! Do you hear me?"

The Raven pulls her tighter into his arms, holding her as if he can somehow erase the agony consuming her, feeling her breath press against the fabric of his hoodie, her tears soaking his chest. A strange sense of relief flickers at the corners of his lips. His specialty. Her anomaly. I'm not alone. Not anymore.

"It's going to be okay, I promise," he whispers, pressing his cheek to her damp hair. "We'll get through this. Trust me."

He feels the croí's fingers dig into his back as the first sobs shatter her breath, wrenched, hellish cries tearing from her throat, muffled by the dark fabric of his hoodie. A weight of pain and despair slams into the square in a single, crushing blow. All around them, humans in the streets and the square collapse, unconscious, their bodies crumpling to the ground, under the horrified gaze of the two Wolves and Anice.

A sharp whistle cuts through the air. Eris's back arches in a spasm of pain, stifled screams tearing from her lips as the dark fletching of a second arrow emerges between her shoulder blades. No! A second than a third whistle, more screams, more spasms. Enough! Nest's hazel eyes, ruthless with pain, stay locked on their target, hitting without fail. 

The Raven grinds his teeth, his fingers already brushing the knife strapped to his thigh. Eris stops him, her hand resting on his. She shakes her head.

"Strike me," she whispers, her trembling lips brushing the custos's ear. "Strike me... or you'll sink with me."

"No! What..." Her amber fingers cut him off, forcing his head to turn to the left.

Anice's pale eyes are on him, trying to see through the chaotic swirl of wings and despair.

"Do it," Eris grits through clenched teeth. "Strike!"

His fingers, as white as snow, obey the command without hesitation. They find the sacred metal buried in the muddy depths of the fountain. The electric touch doesn't offer the usual comfort. The grip tightens, the weapon spins out of the water, and the point sinks beneath her sternum with surgical precision. The girl's sharp, agonized wail rips a groan from the Raven.

"I... I'm sorry," Eris whispers, her voice barely a thread.

Her fingers loosen on the dark fabric of the Raven's back, then vanish, swallowed by the dull splash as they sink into the water.

̣⭒˙✵• ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯☽✮☾⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ •✵˙⭒ ̣