CHAPTER 7: CONTINUATION OF ARK’S PAST

Airi continued her story again.
Until Kamito, who had already graduated school, prepared to fulfill his promise to his little sister by buying her ice cream.

“Maybe Shino will like chocolate flavor.”
Kamito said with a happy smile as he walked through the green rice fields and vegetable gardens.
He gazed at the orange sky.

“Tomorrow… our lives will definitely be much better.”
He murmured with joy.

But that peace shattered in a single second.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM—

A deafening explosion echoed from afar.
A sound that had no business existing in a countryside like this.

Kamito froze.
His breath hitched.
He turned around.

Engine roars shook the ground.

Not motorcycles.
Not helicopters.
Not civilian aircraft.

The vibrations were harsher, angrier.

GRAAAAAATTTTT—!!

Suddenly, a fighter jet burst from behind the hill, flying low—so low the gust it brought flattened the rice fields. Kamito stumbled backward, nearly dropping the ice cream in his hand.

A fighter jet? Here?

Aokibana had never been a military zone.
Never crossed by combat aircraft.
Never home to barracks or army posts.

There was no reason for fighter jets to fly this low.

But before Kamito could process anything—

A second jet followed.

Then a third.

All of them maneuvering right above the village.
No base lights.
No call signs.

Kamito felt his skin crawl.

Something was horribly wrong.

A short aircraft siren blared.
Too short.

The first jet opened its underbelly hatch.

Kamito’s eyes widened.

No.
No.
It couldn’t be—

SHHHHRRRRRAAAAAAA—

Orange-red sparks rained down from the aircraft’s belly.
Many of them.
Too many.

Kamito couldn’t move.

In the next heartbeat, the world in front of him erupted into flames.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM—!!!

The napalm explosion annihilated the tranquility of the village in an instant.
Red fire roared like a beast awakened from ancient sleep, devouring houses, trees, roads, air—everything.

The heatwave slammed into Kamito from afar, melting the ice cream in his hand and knocking it to the ground.

He froze.

His eyes widened.
His heart stopped.

“No… Shino… Father… Mother… the village…”

Fire rose high into the sky.
Black smoke climbed upward, turning the sunset into a blood-red haze.

Screams echoed faintly from the distance.

Kamito felt his throat tighten, even before the scorching air reached him.

His breath broke apart.

“NOOOOO—!”

The ice cream meant for his sister lay shattered on the dirt, melting and mixing with the soil as the inferno raged.

Graduation day—
a day meant to be filled with hope—
became the beginning of hell.

And Kamito stood in the middle of the green field turning black, watching the world he loved crumble in an instant.

The napalm fire still raged as Kamito Ryuga sprinted across the fields, breath ragged, chest burning not just from heat but from terror.
The wet irrigation soil had turned into black mud mixed with ash.

He forced his body to run faster.
His home—the safest place he knew—
he had to reach it.

When he arrived in front of his house, the world collapsed a second time.

It was no longer a house.
Just rubble—charred beams, melted glass, ash everywhere.

The smell of burned flesh mixed with thick napalm smoke.

His parents were nowhere.
No sign of anyone.

Kamito stood among the ruins, shaking.
Empty—down to the bone.

Yet somewhere, deep inside him, something flickered.

Shino.
His sister.
She was still alive.
He could feel it—
a faint thread still connecting them.

Before he could move—

The sound of jets faded.

Replaced by something else.

Rotor blades.
Tactical wheels touching the muddy ground.
Heavy boots stomping the earth.

Kamito turned.

Light armored vehicles arrived near the village square.
On their side:

SSFA — Saintless Special Forces Army

Surviving villagers—wounded, covered in ash, crying—thought help had arrived.

A middle-aged man cried in relief.
A mother hugged her child tightly.

“Finally… help is here.”

“We were attacked… this must be the terrorists’ doing—please—”

But they were wrong.

The unit leader, dressed in black with a Saintless insignia, raised his hand.

His troops opened metallic canisters.

Kamito’s eyes widened.

A thick yellow fluid sprayed out, turning into mist.

Mustard gas.

“All villagers, kneel and do not move.”

But this was no rescue order.
It was the start of the second massacre.

The yellow cloud spread rapidly.
Women coughed violently, men collapsed, children screamed.
Their skin reddened, blistered.
Some screamed until their voices broke.

Kamito covered his mouth and nose with his uniform sleeve, holding back coughs as his throat burned.

He saw a teenage girl—his neighbor—grabbed by SSFA female soldiers.
Her hair was yanked back, her head forced upward.
She begged, hysterical—
A rifle butt silenced her.

“Speed it up. Women and children to the trucks.”
“Men… execute on the spot.”

Those words struck Kamito harder than any explosion.

Another soldier laughed, kicking a dying man.

“Look at this. They say they’re not terrorists—just look at this mess. Should’ve been wiped out sooner.”

Kamito felt his blood boil.

He backed into a narrow alley hidden by broken walls.

There—
he saw something.

And his heart broke.

Shino.
His little sister.
Red eyes full of tears.
Her tiny body trembling—

Dragged by two SSFA soldiers toward a detention truck.

Kamito wanted to scream.
But no sound came out.

He wanted to move.
But his knees nearly collapsed.

But when one soldier slapped Shino—

Something inside Kamito shattered.

He burst from the shadows.

“LET GO OF MY SISTER!”

Three SSFA members slammed him to the ground.
But Kamito refused to stop.

In blind rage, he grabbed an Assault Rifle barrel, twisted it, and yanked it from the soldier’s grip.

Without hesitation, without thought, without mercy—

He fired.
And fired.
And fired.

Bodies dropped around him.

“DIE, YOU BASTARDS!
SHINO! I’M COMING!”

His voice echoed through the burning village.

He ran toward the truck—

DOR.

A bullet tore through his leg.
He fell, blood soaking the scorched dirt.

The truck moved.

Shino screamed, calling for her brother through the metal bars.

Kamito crawled.
He clawed the ground.
He screamed until his voice broke.

“SHINOOOOOO!”

But the truck vanished into the smoke.

And Kamito’s world ended.

The remaining SSFA soldiers captured him.
Beat him with rifle butts.
Kicked his stomach.
Slammed his head into the ground until everything went dark.

Kamito was taken to a remote detention facility in the far south of Japan, near the Asian Federation border.

There, he was interrogated.
Day after day.
Beating after beating.
Torture after torture.

They asked one name:

Asumu Misato
the fabricated terrorist leader used as a scapegoat.

Kamito didn’t know him.
He insisted he was only a villager.

Each answer earned him more pain.

Until one day…
he no longer wanted to eat.
No longer wanted to drink.
No longer wanted to live.

He waited for death.
Waited for darkness.

But fate refused.

BOOOOOOM—!!!

Alarms blared.
Explosions shook the facility.
SSFA soldiers screamed.

Kamito’s cell door was forced open.

Someone grabbed his weakened body.

“Take him! He’s suffered enough!”

Resistance.

Rebels never acknowledged by the media.
People trying to save the world from the Saintless regime.

They carried Kamito out.
He saw the sky again for the first time in months.

The same sky Shino saw the day she was taken.

At the Resistance’s hidden base, Kamito was treated.
Trained.
Given food.
Given shelter.
Given purpose.

Hatred fueled him—
but the desire to protect others made him stronger than hatred ever could.

Asumu Misato, the old commander, challenged him to a duel in the pouring rain.

Kamito won.
Not through strength—
but through resolve.

Asumu smiled proudly.

“Inside you, there is a fire the world can never extinguish.”

Kamito’s first mission leading the Resistance was the raid on the southern SSFA base.

He charged forward alone, cutting through gunfire.

The Resistance followed—
ignited by the spirit of a young man who had lost everything.

The base fell.
The first victory of the Resistance was recorded.

Kamito earned the title:

Commander

By 2037, stories of his resilience spread widely.

Even the Eastern Front heard of him.

Zayid, the Lion of the Middle East, came from afar to meet him.

“You fight not out of hatred, but because you still believe the world can change.”

Kamito didn’t answer.
He only looked north.

Toward the place where Shino was held.
The place he had to return to.
The place where he must save the only family he had left.