The Inverso War Begins

The Lightrover hovered in silence.
Akarui stared at the dashboard, fists clenched, jaw tight. The fragment Mira had left behind glowed faintly, projecting shifting patterns of code and glyphs. Yûna sat beside him, eyes hollow.
They had lost her.
But she wasn’t dead. She was trapped—somewhere deep inside the core of Inverso.
And the world… was starting to break.



The first sign came hours later.
Tokyo’s skyline fractured.
No explosions. No sounds. Just… cracks. Lines of shimmering light that split through buildings, bending reality itself. People walked past without noticing, their minds already numbed by the creeping distortion.
But Akarui felt it.
The Inverso wasn’t leaking anymore.
It was invading.
— Yûna, we have to move. Now.
But before they could power the Lightrover, a transmission pierced through their comms.
— This is Professor Hayato. The balance is failing. You need to reach the Arkheion. Now.
The Arkheion. The ancient vault where the first Guardian’s weapons were forged. Their only chance to fight back.
But the path wasn’t open.
It had to be carved.

As the Lightrover pierced through the skies of a collapsing Tokyo, the Inverso pushed harder.
Creatures began appearing in the streets.
Not just distortions or anomalies—actual monsters.
Hybrids of human memories and corrupted magic.
A girl with wings made of glass shards.
A beast crawling on cables, dragging a reflection of itself like a shadow.
The city was no longer theirs.
— We're not saving Tokyo anymore, whispered Yûna. We’re saving what’s left of it.
Akarui didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the horizon.
On the epicenter.
A tower of inverted energy spiraling into the sky, where the Arkheion was supposed to be sealed.
That’s where Elloran was waiting.
And somewhere inside that storm… Mira and Yami.

The Lightrover breached the outer perimeter.
Instantly, reality shattered.
They were no longer flying through Tokyo.
They were navigating a vortex of memories, battling through tides of pasts that never happened.
— Focus, Yûna. Anchor us. Don't let the ship sync to the distortion.
Yûna’s hands trembled over the controls, but she stabilized their path. Barely.
Then, Elloran’s voice echoed through the ship, vibrating through the walls like a curse.
— You still don’t understand. Inverso is not a parasite. It’s evolution. And you, Akarui, are the last piece.
The Lightrover was yanked downward.
Forced to land.
The ship’s hull screamed as it hit a platform that shouldn’t exist. Floating, fragmented, twisted.
Akarui stepped out.
And there he was.
Elloran.
No longer a man, but a specter wrapped in a thousand memories. His body flickered between forms—sometimes human, sometimes pure data, sometimes a monstrous silhouette.
— You came for her, Elloran said. Good.
He opened his arms.
— Then come and break me.

The Inverso War had begun.
The battle wasn’t just physical.
Every attack bent reality. Every strike unleashed fragments of broken timelines.
Akarui's sword sliced through illusions that tried to overwrite his own memories. Yûna sang—yes, sang—a stabilizing hymn that anchored the space around them.
But Elloran was beyond powerful.
He unleashed distortions that made Akarui fight versions of himself. Akarui the coward. Akarui the betrayer. Akarui the destroyer.
One by one, Akarui cut them down.
Because he had no time for false versions.
Mira was out there.
And he wasn’t leaving without her.

The battle reached the heart of the vortex.
And then—he saw it.
Suspended in a sphere of collapsing dimensions.
Mira. Floating, unconscious. Yami beside her, half-digital, half-human.
Elloran raised his hand for a final strike.
But Akarui, blade glowing, charged.
Not with anger.
Not with rage.
With purpose.
The final clash shattered the sphere.
And the Inverso… roared.