Coda Cantus

[November 13th, 23:15 JST]

Nagano Prefecture – Outskirt town

Reina knew her team had her back.

The moment their harmonized resonance surged through the Cantus Veil, her own song deepened in response. Lightning rippled along her arms as sigils spun into existence. One formed beneath her feet. Another flaring along her right hand.

The blade formed with a metallic shriek, its edge woven from pure current. She gripped it tight as if holding a physical hilt and charged straight into the mist.

Under the Veil’s amplification, every swing split the air with explosive precision.

Shockwaves of blue-white electricity tore through the horde, carving glowing lines across the street. Each slash left afterimages in the mist, arcs that sliced through parked cars and light poles as if they were paper.

Her pace was relentless — a storm given shape.

As the last of the lesser CODA dissolved into nothingness, ten shapes remained ahead, larger than any natural beast, their outlines distinct. The fog parted to reveal them: lions wrought from black mist and silver sinew, their bodies broad and muscular, their eyes burning like molten glass.

They roared in unison, the sound shaking the cracked asphalt beneath her boots.

Reina exhaled, tightening her grip on the D-Mic.

“Producer, are all the Level 3s in front of me?”

“Confirmed,” came the reply through static. “All Level 3 signatures had converged onto you. They’ve identified you as the only threat.”

“Good,” she muttered, stepping forward. “My team’s got their hands full already. I’ll handle them.”

The air shimmered around her as sigils flared along her blade.

The CODA moved first, fast and heavy, their steps coordinated. Reina darted forward to meet them head-on.

Her first strike hit the nearest one squarely across the chest, but it slipped aside just as she expected. She smirked, twisting her wrist; the sigil along the blade shifted shape, and the weapon extending in a whip-like arc that bend midair before lancing through the creature’s side. Electric current surged through the wound. The lion’s form convulsed, then shattered into dust.

The others roared, lunging together. Reina jumped backward, flipping midair as sigils lit beneath her boots.

She forced her current downward, and the repulsion hurled her upward in a burst of lightning.

Another sigil awakened around her legs.

She poured her current into them, shaping a spinning ring of plasma that formed a blade along the boots.

With a single kick, she carved through another Level 3, the electrified saw slicing it cleanly in half. The explosion of light illuminated her white uniform.

She landed, hovering a few inches above the ground, the charged field beneath her feet refusing contact.

The CODA lunged again.

The counter was already in motion, sword and leg working in perfect rhythm — slashing, spinning, slicing through the mist in a blinding dance of thunder and steel. Each extended strike carried shockwave sigils that detonated on contact, shaking the surrounding air.

But even storm tire.

Reina’s breath began to hitch; her song wavered under strain, dissonance creeping into her pitch.

One of the lions leapt from behind. She turned too late. Its claw tore across her back, ripping through fabric and skin.

Pain shot bright and sharp. She crashed into a nearby car, metal crumpled under the impact, sparks scattering. The haze on her body dulled the blow but not the wound, blood streaked down her arm, staining the edge of her white uniform coat crimson.

She staggered to her feet, panting, sparks flickering from the D-Mic still clenched in her hand. The remaining three CODA circled her, their roars echoing through the shattered street.

Her uniform now clung heavy with blood and sweat; each breath burned her throat raw. But she didn’t falter.

If her song broke, the others would lose their rhythm. She couldn’t desync. Not now.

The lightning blade flickered, its glow dimming as her resonance drained.

Ten had become three.

But even three lions were enough to devour a storm.

She leaped high, lightning bursting beneath her boots as the charged currents repelled each other. The blast propelled her skyward, a streak of blue-white light cutting through the fog.

From above, the battlefield unfolded in flickering fragments of light and shadow. Her team still held formation, their song overlapping in chaotic rhythm as they struggled to control their lanes. Even under the protection of her Cantus Veil, their resonance wavered—beautiful but imperfect.

Reina exhaled softly, watching from the rooftop of a shattered home as arcs of electricity danced around her.

“They still can’t draw out the Veil’s full potential,” she murmured, her voice edged with calm understanding. “They’re too new. Not yet tuned to fight inside a Diva’s domain.”

She pressed two fingers to her earpiece, eyes steady on the storm below. When she spoke, her voice lowered, warm and controlled.

“Producer…”

A pause crackled over the comms.

“I’m going to sing Coda Cantus. Requesting permission.”

The channel went silent.

Even through static, she felt the shock ripple through every voice on the line — her teammates frozen, breath caught, unable to speak.

“Is… there really no other way?” the Producer asked, voice tight with dread.

“Based on my judgment? No,” Reina replied, steady but weary. “I’m almost out of gas, and the others are struggling. If anything… the Cantus must be sung if we’re to make it back alive.”

Her tone was calm and unshaken, yet something fragile lingered underneath.

“… Permission granted,” came the quiet reply after a long pause. “I’ll deal with the higher-ups.”

Another beat.

“Just… make sure you can control it.”

Reina gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Heh. I’m a Cantus Major-grade Diva. If anyone here can sing it, it’s me.”

A new voice cut through the comms, frantic and trembling.

“Reina, no! Even for a Cantus Major, it’s too dangerous! You’ll die if you fail to complete the song!” Emi’s voice cracked through static, panic laced with fear.

“It’s okay.” Reina’s voice lowered, steady and warm. “Trust me.”

The words were meant for her squad — but more than that, they were meant for herself. This was her first time invoking the forbidden hymn. Even she didn’t know if her body could withstand it.

She drew a slow breath, then spoke her final command.

“Everyone, I’ll be disabling the Cantus Veil for this performance. Please… hold out until I’m done. I want all of us to return safely.”

There was sorrow in her tone, quiet but unmistakable.

Reina removed her earpiece and let it fall. She needed silence — absolute silence.

Her song faded from her lips as she steadied her breath, emptying her mind.

she poured every thought and every fragment of her soul into the D-Mic, seeking the words that surfaced only when a Diva accepted death.

And then, they came.

Whispers that weren’t hers.

A language older than creation itself.

Words no human had ever spoken, etched deep within the D-Mic, waiting for a will strong enough to awaken them.

If the normal Diva song was born before language, then the Coda Cantus was the song that ended it.

A melody that spelled finality.

A hymn so ancient, no one could comprehend it, only surrender to it.

As the resonance built, Reina’s Cantus Veil began to dissolve.

Though invisible, its absence was felt instantly.

Her team faltered. The fiery windstorm weakened, its rotation slowing to a dying spiral.

The mountain of compressed gravity began to crumble, stones falling apart under their own weight.

The prismatic light scattered by the water mirrors dimmed, hundreds of rays fading into tens.

Their strength bled away with the Veil, and the CODA swarmed in response.

The team could only watch in despair as the air itself darkened.

And above it all, Reina began to sing.

Her voice rose acapella into the storm, faint at first, then soaring with impossible clarity.

“Neh’va serat, lo’rein thal,

Eru venai, sil’thar aniel.

Kaer’na torah, vi’el saen,

El’mira nox, thear’na eil.”

Each note vibrated through the air like thunder turned to prayer.

Lightning spiraled around her form as she ascended, slow and weightless, to the center of the sky.

Reina’s body began to glow, first a faint pulse, then blinding.

Thunder sigils spun wildly around her, overlapping in a storm of blue and white light. The air screamed as static warped into halos, each ring folding into the next until her silhouette vanished completely, swallowed by radiance.

Then, the world broke.

The storm unleashed all at one.

Lightning rained from the heavens, spears of white fire striking the ground with merciless precision. Each impact tore the earth apart; streets cracked open, rooftops exploded, and the air itself trembled under the fury.

Only one place remained untouched: the small circle where her squad stood, their voices flickering in disbelief.

Everything else burned.

Wooden home disintegrated in flashes of blue flame; metal cars twisted and melted. The CODA screamed — a chorus drowned by thunder — as the storm consumed them, vaporizing shadow into mist.

Even the Level 3s disintegrated mid-roar, their form erased before the echoes faded.

For a heartbeat, the sky turned white.

Then came silence.

When the light dimmed, nothing remained.

The village. The streets. The horde.

All gone.

Only scorched earth and rising steam marked where the world had once stood.

The squad’s earpieces crackled.

“CODA signal gone,” the Producer’s voice said, breathless. “Confirmed wipe… You girls did it.”

Up above, the sphere of light flickered once, then fractured.

A body began to fall.

“Reina!”

Emi’s voice broke through the static. The girls moved in unison, their resonance still shaky but alive.

Sigils surfaced across the field, each color of light sparking to life as every Diva pouring what remained of her strength into saving their leader.

Water surged upward, forming a trembling cushion of liquid glass.

Gravitational fields inverted, pulling against the fall.

Wind spiraled beneath her, slowing the descent.

And from the ground, walls of stone rose to cradle the point of impact.

Reina struck the water barrier with a dull splash, her body limp, her uniform burned and blood-stained.

Before the ripples settled, Emiko was already running forward, D-Mic glowing weakly in her grip.

“Ars Aria: Lux Cantus.”

Light bloomed around her hands as she knelt beside Reina, trembling.

Golden sigils hovered above the wound, flickering faintly, trying to knit torn flesh and burned skin.

“Stay with us,” Emiko whispered.

“Please, Reina-senpai… stay with us.”

Nana pressed a trembling hand to her earpiece, forcing her voice steady.

“This is Tempesta unit—requested immediate medical response. Diva down, possibly critical. Coordinates transmitting now.”

Her tone was clipped and professional, but the faint shimmer of heat around her fingers betrayed the panic she fought to contain.

As Emiko’s sigil dimmed, the six Divas stood in the shadow of their own miracle, saved by a song that might never be sung again.