Part 23

Three days had passed since Eiji’s death, and the war was closer than ever. The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate. Eucalyptus could barely breathe, her chest tight with the weight of everything that had happened. Moki was gone, NaïKu had vanished without a trace, and despair was slowly choking any sense of hope that remained in the hearts of their allies. She hadn’t slept in days, the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the numbness that had taken over her entire being. Zephyr stayed close to her, but he too was on edge. Every small sound made them flinch, every distant noise felt like a warning that death was on its way.

And now, the war was just hours away. Tomorrow, it would all end—one way or another. They would either win or be crushed under the weight of their enemies. Eucalyptus felt like she was drowning, her thoughts spiraling into a dark pit of fear and hopelessness. She knew everyone felt the same. Shaya had suggested a speech. Something to rally the troops, to give them the last push they needed to fight. But how could she speak when she could barely hold herself together?

But as dawn broke, she knew she had no choice. They all gathered in Anclona, preparing for the inevitable. The faces of soldiers, friends, comrades—all of them terrified, all of them waiting for her to say something. Her heart pounded, and she could feel the crushing weight of their expectations. But instead of fear, she felt a surge of determination. She had to speak from the heart, like she always did. No more hiding. No more pretending.

She stood in the center of the square, where the sun cast a dim light over the anxious crowd. Her voice started soft, but it grew stronger with every word, fueled by the fire burning inside her.

"I know you’re scared," Eucalyptus began, her voice trembling at first. "I am too. We’ve lost so much already. Too much. Moki... NaïKu... and now, the war that’s about to come will take even more from us."

The crowd was silent, their eyes fixed on her. Some were already crying, the emotions they’d been suppressing starting to break free.

"But we cannot give in to fear. We can’t let the Cross take everything from us. They’ve killed our friends, torn apart our families, but we are still here. We’re still standing! And tomorrow, when we march into Nicosa, we won’t be fighting for just ourselves. We’re fighting for those who came before us, for those who aren’t here anymore, and for those who will come after us."

Her voice cracked, the raw emotion surging up like a storm. "Yes, we might die tomorrow. I won’t lie to you about that. But if we do, we die protecting the future. We die knowing that the Cross won’t get to destroy another generation, another life. And if we live—when we live—we’ll have carved a path to a world where the Cross doesn’t exist anymore. Where no one else has to lose the people they love to their cruelty."

Tears slipped down her cheeks now, but she didn’t wipe them away. "We are not just fighting a war tomorrow. We are fighting for freedom. For the ones we’ve lost. For the ones we’ll protect. And for the future, that we will build together, free from their blood-soaked tyranny."

Some people in the crowd began to sob openly, others nodded with fierce determination. There was a shift in the air, a collective inhale of hope. Eucalyptus wiped the tears from her face and forced a small smile. "The Cross thinks they’ve broken us. But they’re wrong. They don’t know how strong we are. They don’t know that even in our darkest moments, we stand together. And tomorrow, we will show them. Together, we will end this."

As she finished, the crowd erupted into applause, some shouting, others hugging each other tightly. The tension that had gripped them so tightly seemed to loosen, just a bit. The fear was still there, but now, there was also resolve.

Then the minutes passed, and the army began its long walk to Nicosa, the battlefield where everything would be decided. Eucalyptus, Shaya, and Zephyr stayed behind for a moment, watching as Yachi, the leader of the Star, led the first wave of soldiers into the heart of the enemy. The anticipation hung in the air like the calm before a storm.

Suddenly, the explosion came.

A deafening roar shattered the stillness. Eucalyptus’s heart dropped as the smell of blood hit her, thick and metallic. She ran, her legs moving before her mind could even catch up, desperate to understand what had happened. And then she saw it—Yachi, drenched in blood, standing in the middle of the carnage. Shizuko’s head was in her hands.

Eucalyptus’s breath caught in her throat, her vision narrowing to the gruesome sight before her. Shizuko. Gone. Just like that.

She couldn’t even find the words, the horror freezing her in place, until Shaya grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward safety. “Yachi’s used her Final Form,” Shaya shouted over the chaos, her voice barely audible above the sound of explosions and screams. “Let her have her revenge.”

Eucalyptus nodded numbly, her mind spinning. Shaya was right. Yachi, in her Final Form—a monstrous, terrifying tiger—was already tearing through the battlefield with terrifying ferocity. This was her battle now, her moment of vengeance.

But they had another mission. “Kumo,” Zephyr whispered in her ear, his voice steadying her. She nodded again, more firmly this time, and they took off, cutting through the chaos, dodging bodies and blood and the violent clash of Animal Forms.

It didn’t take long to reach the Cross HQ. The building loomed over them, an ominous shadow in the middle of the hellscape. Inside, the alarms had already been triggered, the shrill sounds piercing through the thick air. Blood splattered the walls, corpses littered the floors, but Eucalyptus forced herself to keep moving. There was no time to mourn, no time to stop. They had to find Kumo. It was the only thing that mattered now.

And then they found it—a locked room, the only one intact. Without hesitation, Shaya smashed the door open. Inside, the air was stale, filled with the stench of death. Old corpses lay scattered across the floor, and in the center of the room stood Asael, the Boss of the Cross.

"Asael," Shaya whispered, her voice a broken mix of shock and rage. Her old friend stood before them, the same friend who had betrayed her, the same one who had killed her and been killed by her. The tension was electric, suffocating.

Then another door opened, and Eucalyptus’s heart nearly stopped.

Kumo.

It looked different—hair cut, clothes changed—but Eucalyptus recognized it immediately. Their eyes met, and for a split second, she saw the flash of shock and relief on Kumo’s face.

"Kumo," Eucalyptus began, but Asael’s cold voice cut her off.

“Ah, Kumo. You’re here,” they said, a twisted smile curling on their lips. “Kill them.”

Everything froze. Kumo looked at Asael, then at Eucalyptus, Shaya, and Zephyr—its old friends. Eucalyptus felt her heart shatter. “Kumo, don’t,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

But then Kumo raised the gun, pointing it directly at her.

A long, painful silence followed. The weight of betrayal crushed the air around them.

"Pull the trigger," Asael commanded.

But Kumo didn’t. Instead, it turned, facing Asael with a look of defiance in its eyes. Slowly, it dropped the gun.

And then, in a blur of movement, Kumo’s Animal Form exploded into existence—a dog, scarred and broken, but powerful and enraged. With a vicious snarl, the dog lunged at Asael.

Part 24