Ars Aria: Tempesta Unit

[November 13th, 23:10 JST]

Nagano Prefecture – Outskirt town

For a brief moment, the world around them stood still. Light trembled, the air heavy with mana, charged and contained within Reina’s Cantus Veil.

Then it came—the scream. A guttural, distorted cry tore through the mist, bursting from the body of the Level 2s. It sounded like a dying breath and a war cry all at once, raw enough to make the ground itself tremble.

The horde surged forward as one. The mist twisted violently, dark shapes spilling out like a flood of shadow. Every step shook the earth; claws scraped asphalt; the impact of their advance cracked walls and shattered windows. Abandoned homes broke apart as the mass of CODA crashed through the narrow streets, driven mad by the Divas’ song.

The town trembled beneath the charge, a storm of black smoke and glowing eyes bearing down upon the light at its center.

The team broke formation, spreading into position while keeping their arcs tight around Reina’s lead.

Mika and Misaki moved left; Nana and Momoko mirrored them to the right; Emi and Emiko held the flank.

“Ars Aria: Terra Cantus.”

Mika’s voice deepened, steady and resonant. A circular sigil flared beneath her boots, its runes glowing in earthen tones before spreading outward like cracks in the pavement. With a flick of her finger, the ground responded.

From the glowing lines, pillars of dirt and concrete erupted in rows, massive uneven columns bursting upward with thunderous force. The impact sent half the charging CODA flying into the air, the distorted bodies twisting in black arcs above the street. Dust and debris scattered like stormclouds under the rising columns.

“Ars Aria: Gravitas Cantus.”

Misaki didn’t hesitate. She fixed her gaze skyward, her voice aligning with Mika’s rhythm. A black sigil spun into existence high above, its inner ring revolving counterclockwise before collapsing inward.

The air folded. Gravity fell like a hammer.

The CODA suspended in mid-air were dragged down with crushing speed, their forms collapsing into black vapor upon impact. Several on the ground tried to force their way through the gravitational wall that Misaki’s field created, but the pull was relentless.

The sigil’s edge expanded, trapping them in its invisible weight.

Mika stomped once, her boots striking the cracked pavement, and the loose rock and concrete she’d summoned earlier came crashing down.

The combined force slammed through the struggling mist, flattening the creatures into the dirt before dissolving into vapor.

But the silence that followed lasted only a breath.

From beyond the haze, more shapes surged forward, countless red eyes flickering in the fog like coals in a storm.

The CODA didn’t retreat; they pressed forward over one another, forcing their way through the expanding field by sheer mass and momentum.

Each impact made the ground quake, and cracks spidered along the sigil lines as the pressure built. 

On the right. Nana and Momoko stared down the oncoming mass.

Momoko’s mouth curved into a small grin as she lifted her palm, song still pouring from her lips.

“Ars Aria: Ventus Cantus.”

A ringed sigil blossomed in the air before her, then another, then a third, concentric circles rotating in countertime. Wind gathered through them, pulled from every direction until thin funnels twisted into being. The baby cyclones leaned, merged, and locked, forming a single, rising vortex that tore shingles from rooftops and dragged shrieking CODA off their feet. Street signs bent toward the pull; loose debris spiraled upward like leaves in a storm drain.

Nana knew the cue. She winked, slid her left hand to her chest with her D-Mic held steady, and curl her right into a fist.

“Ars Aria: Ignis Cantus.”

A searing sigil ignited at her knuckles; sparks sprayed, then bloomed into flame that wrapped her fist to the wrist. She dropped into a boxer’s stance, weight light, shoulders square. With a sharp uppercut, she punched toward the vortex.

Nana kept swinging, right hook then straight. Each punch sparked a fresh sigil in the air before her, each sigil vomiting a ribbon of fire that the vortex gulped down. The heat spiked; paint blistered on parked cars, glass splintered into spiderwebs, and the CODA caught in the spiral blackened, then burst into vapor. The tornado glowed from within, a pillar of burning wind that howled like an organ pipe.

They held it together — Momoko feeding the pull, Nana feeding the flame — until the lane ahead was clear.

For a heartbeat.

Then mist poured in to fill the gap. More eyes. More weight. The pillar wavered as the pressure mounted; metal along the curb sagged and ran like wax. Momoko’s breath hitched, pitch faltering for a fraction of a beat.

“Momo!” Nana shouted, jaw clenched as she forced herself back into stance while another sigil spun to life.

The fiery wind roared on, a scorching wall that burned everything that dared it. Yet the mist thickened beyond its edge, the street refilling like a wound that refused to close.

On the flank, the air was thick with mist and the faint scent of awakened mana drifting from Reina’s Cantus Veil. The rainwater that still clung to the streets began to stir, rippling toward Emi’s boots as she and Emiko took their positions.

“Ars Aria: Aqua Cantus.”

A sigil shimmered beneath Emi’s feet, rings of blue light rippling outward like waves. More of the same markings surfaced across the street ahead of her, directly along the horde’s path.

She lifted her right hand, fingers pressed together and index extended toward the advancing shapes, while her left gripped the D-Mic close to her lips.

Her song deepened, steady and deliberate yet perfectly in rhythm with others, as the glowing sigils pulsed in time with her voice.

Water gathered at her command, the street itself rising to obey. From the sigil spread a thick wall of condensed liquid, glistening and shifting as it took shape.

The first wave of CODA slammed into it and slowed. The barrier flexed but didn’t break.

Emi exhaled and focused on her fingertip. Droplets spiraled toward it, compressing into a single sphere that shimmered like glass under pressure. The sphere shrank tighter and tighter until it snapped.

A jet of water lanced forward, slicing through the horde in a clean line. It cut with the precision of a diamond blade, vapor and shadow splitting like smoke against steel.

Beside her, Emiko’s voice wavered for a moment, but she didn’t lose rhythm. Her hands trembled, yet the melody from her lips stayed synchronized with the rest of the squad.

“Ars Aria: Lux Cantus.”

A sigil of radiant gold flared into existence before her.

At her voice, walls of light unfolded from it. Thin, transparent planes forming a corridor that sealed the CODA inside a one-way path. The creatures slammed against the glowing barriers, trapped between light and water.

Emi’s beam carved through them like butter.

However, the effort began to strain her. She could feel her reservoir draining fast, every note pulling more moisture from the air.

Still, she nodded toward Emiko — a silent cue.

Gathering the last of the rain pooled around her, Emi shaped the droplets into a chain of suspended lenses, each one curved and gleaming, aligned like floating mirrors. Behind every lens, a glowing sigil shimmered in place, anchoring the water’s form and keeping its shape steady against the pull of gravity. Their surfaces pointed toward the incoming horde.

Emiko saw it, and despite the tremor in her breath, she cancelled her barrier. The corridor of light dissolved. The CODA surged forward.

She steadied her grip on the D-Mic, eyes glowing with determination.

From the golden sigil before her, a concentrated beam of light burst forth, splitting as it passed through each of Emi’s water lenses.

The refracted rays scattered and multiplied, a storm of prismatic light.

Dozens of smaller beams shot through the mist, each one slicing, evaporating, and burning through the charging forms. For a moment, the battlefield turned into a fractured spectrum of color — breathtakingly violent, a prism-born tempest that danced across the wet streets.

The two Divas stood side by side — Emi calm but straining to maintain control, Emiko nervous but unyielding. Their elements moved in harmony, light sharpening water, water guiding light, as the mist ahead dissolved under their combined force.

As the rest of the team held their lines, all eyes turned toward the heart of the Cantus Veil, where Tachibana Reina stood alone. Her radiant aura wrapping her form as she gazed forward, unwavering.