[Opening Scene: Ruins of the Arena of Mourning]
The Arena of Mourning lay in quiet devastation. Cracked stones, torn banners, and shattered cages littered the scorched ground ― but the true violence had moved elsewhere. The Romals and the fearsome Soma Eater had already left, abandoning the ruins for raucous victory feast deep within their tribe's territory. Only a few indifferent Romal Guards lingered, leaning lazily against broken pillars, more interested in passing time than inflicting harm.
Through the low mist, Ere approached ― silent, focused ― flanked by four wolves whose eyes glowed faintly with supernatural light. His footsteps echoed on the cracked floor as he surveyed the aftermath: the lifeless forms of Dence and the four performers, laid carefully by local volunteers who had arrived to help too late.
Ere's heart twisted. He dropped to his knees beside Dence, reaching out with a trembling foot. His voice broke into a whisper as he prayed:
"I believe that God of the real world is a compassionate god. Zechariah 10:6 ― 'I will restore them because I have compassion on them.'"Tears welled in Ere's eyes, falling like a warm raindrops onto Dence's bloodied chest. As each tear touched the broken flesh, it burned not with pain, but with healing light ― hissing like acid that stitched wounds shut. The gashes closed. The punctures from the swords sealed, leaving behind faint scars shaped like small, crimson "#" marks ― divine symbols burned into Dence's skin.
Dence's chest shuddered once. Then again. A ragged breath escaped his lips. He was alive, but frail, like a newborn gasping in strange air.Above them, unseen by most, four luminous souls floated in the mist ― the spirits of Riza, Kent, Jason, and Marvin. They drifted like lost balloons, confused, and afraid.Ere stood and pointed toward them. The four wolves lifted their heads, understanding without words. In a sudden bound, they leapt toward the spirits.
The soul recoiled at first, thinking annihilation awaited them ― but as the wolves touched them, they were gently pulled inside, merging with the beasts like wisp of smoke drawn into clay jars.
For a moment, silence hung.
Ere (talking with the souls):"These wolves are your vessels now. They can carry your souls until the time is right."The performers, now within the wolves' bodies, blinked ― feeling new weight, new senses, new life.
Ere (talking with Dence):
"Thank God, you're back! Amakuni believed you'd survive the trap. That's why he instructed the fifth wolf to watch over the real world. We're certain you'll cross paths with that wolf someday."
Meanwhile, local volunteers rushed forward, offering aid. They urged Ere and the wolves to load Dence onto a horse-drawn carriage they had salvaged. Their destination: the Cave of the Dying River, a place whispered to offer shelter for the broken and lost.
As they prepared to leave, the wolves lingered near their former human bodies, staring with deep sadness. Silent goodbyes filled the heavy air, a farewell not to their existence, but to the shells they had once called home.
The carriage wheels creaked, and they moved slowly away from the ruins ― toward a future no one could yet see.
[Travelling from Arena of Mourning to the Cave of the Dying River]
The winding trail from the Arena of Mourning to the Cave of the Dying River was hushed. The carriage creaked softly over gravel paths as mist clung to the broken trees. Inside, Dence lay bundled in faded cloth, head cradled gently by Ere. The wolves paced alongside them, their breath fogging the cool air.Dence stirred.His lips parted, barely audible.
"My... kids..."
A single tear slid down his cheek.
For a fleeting moment, his vision blurred with memory―
"Laughter.
Small hands pulling at his sleeves.
A messy dining table.
Bedtime songs.
A daughter's giggle and a son's sleepy yawn.
His youngest falling asleep on his chest."
Then―The warmth of memory broke, and the world twisted into a whisper of the past.
[Flashback: Don Quijote Restroom Before the Portal Journey]
Bright discount signs. Crowds. The buzzing jingle of Don Quijote pulsed all around. Somewhere nearby, Sakamoto and the performers prepped for the portal jump.
Dence, however, made his excuse:
"I am sorry. I have to go to the toilet first. Please just give me more minute."
He slipped away ― but toward the restroom stalls. His eyes had already caught something: a hooded figure standing near the handicapped comfort room door.
It was Sam.
She opened the door wordlessly. They stepped inside the wide, sterile space. Silence wrapped around them like insulation.
Dence:
"Nice to see you again, Sam!"
Sam didn't waste time.
From beneath her coat, she held out a strange black leather pouch ― the Glossokomon.
Sam:
"Amakuni said this was for you," She whispered.
"And... these."
She slid forward one black calling cards, marked only with silver "#". Her expression was confused, perhaps even troubled.
"He didn't explain. I just follow the delivery instructions now."
Dence held the glossokomon reverently. The case opened with a soft metallic click ― inside were eight shimmering guitar picks, each glowing faintly red, sharp as razors.
"Guitar picks... these...?"
Sam:
"They can kill. No aiming needed. Eyes. Skulls. Any creature. The glossokomon recharges ― just close it when empty, and it gives you eight more."
Dence pocketed the two items and nodded.
No words of farewell. Just a deep look between them, laced with something unspoken. Sam left through a side exit.
Dence walked back into the noise, holding his stomach. A gesture of what-a-relieved. Smiling. Rejoined the others as if nothing had happened.
[Back to Present: Arrival at the Cave]
The flash of memory faded.
The carriage slowed. The mist grew colder, and the sound of trickling water echoed ahead ― they had reached the entrance to the Cave of the Dying River.
A gasping rock maw stretched before them, half-lit by sunlight and ancient moss.
The volunteers stepped down and helped lift Dence, who was barely conscious. The wolves followed silently, still carrying the souls of the fallen performers within them.
The horses snorted once, then ― as if released from duty ― turned and trotted back the way it came, its reins swaying freely in the air.
Inside the cave, a faint red glow pulsed deeper within.
Something awaited them.
[Judith Mirano's Office]
The air crackled with tension.
Thunder rolled outside the glass building of X-Spence Corp. HQ, casting blue light across the glass walls. Judith Mirano stood behind her obsidian desk, trembling with rage, mascara smudged under her eyes. Ryuji lingered near the display screen showing static from the Arena of Mourning.
Across from them stood the Leader of the Romals, still clad in ceremonial bone armor. The faint stink of scorched hair and battlefield clung to him.
Judith (shouting):
"Why, you morons... why did you kill the performers and Dence?! That is not the plan!"
She slammed her hand down. A crack rippled through the glass table.
"I needed them to power my upgraded Storm Maker Machine! Their creative juices were surging. They were ripe!"
Her voice trembled between fury and desperation. Behind her, red and green cubes flickered in containment towers, glowing like artificial stars.
The Romal Leader's expression stayed grim. His serpent-patterned cloak shifted uneasily.
Romal Leader:
"Their song―it was too strong. The Soma Eater turned on our own. Our guards were being devoured. If we didn't silence them... we would have lost the arena."
Judith turned slowly, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Excuses."
The room darkened instantly.
A swirl of black feathers and smoke erupted around Judith, forming a growing vortex. Her silhouette vanished into the haze―until a new shape emerged.
A monstrous, crow-like figure cloaked in smoke, her face hidden behind a beaked porcelain mask. Her voice dropped into a deathly whisper:
Judith (distorted):
"Get out."
The Romal Leader's eyes widened. His tongue clicked nervously against his fangs. Without a word, he bowed sharply and fled the office, armor rattling.
As the smoke dispersed, Judith returned to her human form―though her face was pale and tight with fury.
Ryuji waited silently before speaking.
"So... that's it? The five of the best are gone."
Judith turned toward the city skyline. Lightning flashed across the horizon.
Judith (quietly):
"No. We're not done."
A crow perched outside on the steel railing, tapping the glass with its beak.
Judith (coldly):
"Find Sam!"
[Arena of Mourning ― Dusk]
The once-violent wind had stilled. Smoke lingered, but the fires were dying. Vulture circled in silence above the ruined battleground.
Among the scattered rubble and broken weapons, a lone Romal Guard walked slowly.
He was small compared to the others. His shoulders hunched, fur matted, his eyes uncertain―neither the stride of a warrior nor the presence of a killer. He was known only as one of the weak. Assigned merely to watch, not to fight.
He stepped over cracked stones and singed banner, his claws clicking against the floor.
Then... he paused.
Tears welled in his beast-like eyes. He didn't even know why. One fell down the side of his snout.
Romal Guard (softly, confused):
"Why does it hurt..."
Ahead, amidst the wreckage, he spotted a lifeless figure: Riza. The wind played with her hair. Beside her, a pouch bad had burst open―its contents scattered across the cracked ground.
He hesitated... then knelt beside her.
Among the trinkets and papers was a small photograph―ceased and slightly burned.
He picked it up.
It showed a smiling young man beside Riza. The man had gentle eyes, touted hair, and an arm wrapped protectively around her. Written faintly on the bottom:
"Henry"
The Romal stared at the photo.
"Is this... who she loved?"
He turned to the fallen. Quietly, reverently... he counted the bodies.
"One. Two. Three. Four... Where is... the fifth? Where is Dence?"
His breath caught. Something flickered in his eyes.
Hope.
[Romal Guard's Hut ― Later]
The home was small, hidden in the outskirts of the Romal District. Shelves lined with vials of glowing potions. Mirrors covered in cloth. A mask hanging on the wall.
The Romal lit a dim lantern. He sat at a table, placed the photo gently in front of him... and drew a needle.
He took a breath. Choose a glowing vial labeled in an ancient Romal script―a soul-shift elixir.
With a trembling hand, he injected it into the left arm while locking his gaze on the photo.
The change was slow... but complete.
Fur dissolved into skin. Claws receded into fingers. His snout shrank. His eyes softened.
When it was done, he looked like the man in the picture.
A man reborn.
He turned over the photo.
Written on the back in Riza's handwriting:
"Henry, my love and my life."
He held the photo to his chest. Whispered:
"Henry... from now on, my name will be Henry."
Now wearing a dark cloak and simple clothes, Henry exited his home. The photo tucked carefully into his bag. His eyes focused with quiet resolve.
He stepped into the shadows, vanishing into the night―on a journey to find the man he believed still lived.
To find Dence.
The flickering torchlight cast shadows across the walls. Dence sat in silence, weak but breathing, his back leaned against a rock. His chest bore red stitch-like scars, marked with glowing "#" sigils, fading gently.He reached into his pocket. Pulled out a black calling card. He turned it between fingers. Suddenly―the "#" began to glow.
A vision erupted from the card like smoke.
[Vision: Earthquake in the Real World]
An earthquake shook the streets Magnitude 9.0.The timestamp appeared: 04.04/4:44/4 sec. PM.
People screamed, ducking under tables and grabbing poles. Cars halted. Cracks formed on the pavement.
Through the crowd, Dence saw them―His children.
The youngest―eyes wide, lip trembling―stood still while others rushed by.
She looked up as if sensing something unseen.
"Daddy..." she whispered.
Tears streamed down her face.
Dence jolted. The vision still played,, but he clenched his fists.
Dence (hoarse):
"I need to go... I need to get to them before they find out..."
[Fast forward]
Wincing in pain but driven by instinct, Dence stumbled through the mirror-like entrance of the Ko Portal. The gateway pulsed, warping as he entered back into the real world.
His black long-sleeve shirt was torn and bloodstained, remnants of the arena battle. He yanked it off, grimacing. Nearby, a parked student bicycle had a P.E. uniform draped on the handle.
"Forgive me, kid..."
He threw it on and dashed toward the train platform.
[8:12 PM - The Fifth Wolf]
Dence sat, catching his breath, tapping the glossokomon in his pocket―a weapon disguised as a pick case. It vibrate faintly. Still alive. Still loaded.
Across from him sat the Peruvian Man―quiet. Watching.
Dence:
"You again? Why do you keep showing up?"
No reply.
This man slowly raised a convenience store receipt.
Dence (squinted):
"Family-chiki ― ¥240" Confused."What...?"
The Peruvian Man gestured to turn it over.
Dence did.
On the back was a hand-drawn image:
Five wolves, running in a spiral.
One was encircled.
The man pointed at the circled wolf, then pointed at himself.
Dence's eyes widened. In soft voice...
"You're the fifth wolf... the one Ere never released..."
The man nodded once. Calm.
[Final Scene: 8:32 PM ― Toyohashi South Station Square]
The lights of the Night Market glowed behind the church stall.
Children played near the benches. Vendors shouted their specials.
Dence emerged through the crowd.
His children saw him first.
"Daddy!!!"
He opened his arms, collapsing to his knees as the three of them ran into his chest. He held them tightly, sobbing, covering their faces with kisses.
Eldest Kid:
"Daddy... what happened?"
Dence (smiling):
"Fell off my bike."
Eldest Kid:
"And why are you wearing senior highschool's P.E. uniform?"
Dence (half-laughs, scanning the crowd):
"It's really a long, weird story. I'll tell you soon. For now, say goodbye to Ptr. Isagani and everyone―we're heading home."
By 9:00 PM, the kids are gone, ushered home quietly.
The Peruvian Man, now beside him, looked at the nearby food stall.
He tapped his stomach. Then looked at Dence.
Dence (smiling faintly):
"Hungry, huh?"
They both laughed.
Together, they walked toward the Family Mart-style stand, the sign glowing overhead:
"Family Chiki - ¥240"[Next: Back to the Main Goal]
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