Chapter 27: Blood and fury

The screams had not yet faded.

They echoed, wild and raw, bouncing off brass pillars and steam-veiled rafters, as firelight and mana sparks danced violently across the shattered hall. The elegant grandeur of the Exhibition of Wonders was gone. In its place: chaos, panic, and blood.

nagomi stumbled down a twisted corridor, the remnants of a torn curtain wrapped around his arm, a makeshift bandage for a wound he hadn’t noticed until moments ago. His boots splashed through puddles of spilt wine, alchemical oil, and something darker. The once-polished floors now glistened with the panic of death.

“It’s not supposed to be like this… It was just a machine. A marvel. A show…”

His breath hitched. He kept moving.

Behind him, distant sounds—metal scraping, someone wailing, the mechanical whirr of Construct No. 7 malfunctioning with a voice that shouldn't have emotions.

A flash of red passed through his peripheral vision.

He froze.

Just beyond a collapsed archway, in a sliver of shadow illuminated by flickering emergency lamps, he saw her.

A small girl.

No older than six, tangled hair clinging to her tear-streaked cheeks, gripping the limp arm of a woman sprawled across the floor. The mother’s dress was soaked with blood—her chest unmoving, her mouth parted in a silent gasp.

“Mom… please… wake up…”

The girl tugged uselessly at her mother’s sleeve.

“Don’t leave me alone…”

nagomi’s legs moved before his thoughts caught up. He dropped to one knee beside her, gently placing a trembling hand on her shoulder.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking with something new. Not fear. Not confusion.

Helplessness.

“We have to go. We can’t stay here. Please, look at me—what’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer. She just stared at him with wide, wet eyes, clutching her mother tighter.

nagomi swallowed. “I’ll carry you if I have to. Just come with me. We’ll find help. I promise.”

She nodded—slowly—reluctantly letting go.

He took her small hand into his own, gently but firmly, leading her into the corridor, past smoke and sparks and dying chandeliers.

“Stay close,” he murmured. “You’re doing great. Just a little more.”

They took three steps.

Then the corridor lit up with an unnatural hum.

A faint whirr, a sudden hum of spiraling energy from behind them. Before nagomi could react—

A flash of red light.

A beam lanced through the hallway.

He heard a soft gasp beside him.

Time halted.

He turned, eyes wide.

The girl's body stiffened, her tiny chest impaled by a searing crimson lance of magical energy, clean through her back and out her chest. Her hand loosened in his.

nagomi's voice caught in his throat.

"Ha...?"

The world blurred.

She collapsed—slowly, like a falling leaf—into his arms, her body light and warm and horribly still.

"No... no, no, no!"

He held her close, shaking, blood soaking through his shirt.

"I—"

His voice cracked.

"I couldn’t even save one… just one girl…”

His scream tore through the smoke-choked air.

“Damn it!!”

A single tear fell down his cheek, lost in the crimson that smeared his face. His hands, trembling, were covered in her blood.

Then—

A voice.

Metallic. Warped. And filled with… pain?

"...Why... am I alive...?"

nagomi raised his head, slowly.

From the mist and darkness of the hallway ahead, something approached. Clanking, dragging, stumbling.

Construct No. 7.

But it was no longer the beautiful, polished marvel from the exhibition. Its bronze-plated frame was twisted, steaming, scorched. One of its glowing eyes flickered erratically, while wires spilled like veins from a cracked chest panel. It walked with an uneven gait—more like a creature in pain than a machine.

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to hurt them…”

Its voice echoed, raw with broken syntax and sorrow.

“I… don’t… understand. Am I… awake? Am I… me?”

nagomi stood, gently laying the girl down, his eyes dark.

A quiet rage settled in his chest—hot and heavy. Not because he hated the construct. But because in this world… even magic could create tragedies with a single mistake.

The construct reached out a trembling hand. "Please... I don't want to... disappear again..."

nagomi didn’t answer.

He just stared, blood-smeared and hollow-eyed, at the creature before him.

The gears of fate kept turning.