Red cloud

Alkiya—once a kingdom of peace and beauty—had become a battlefield.

The ground stretched endlessly, painted in red.
Not by dusk. Not by nature.

But by blood.

The air trembled with sound—shouts, groans, the guttural cries of dying men blending into a grotesque symphony. Above, the once-clear blue sky had twisted into something unrecognizable, choked by red smoke and drifting ash. It reflected the devastation below like a cruel mirror.

Pools of blood gathered around shattered armor and fallen bodies, rising to the ankles of those still standing. Each step sent ripples across the surface, each ripple a silent testament to lives lost.

The stench of rot and death clung to everything.

It was inescapable.

“STOP IT! STOP IT ALL!”

Yuui’s scream tore through the chaos.

Raw. Desperate.

Alive.

Her wide eyes trembled as they took in the scene around her. Bodies. Flames. Ruin. Blood dripped around her like a curtain, isolating her in a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

“What is the purpose of this?!” she cried, her voice shaking.

For a brief moment—

The world felt like it paused.

Then—

“...BLOOD RAIN.”

Winter’s voice cut through the battlefield.

Cold.

Unfeeling.

Yuui’s breath hitched as she looked up.

The sky… was changing.

The clouds above twisted unnaturally, thickening into a deep crimson mass. They pulsed—slowly, rhythmically—like something alive. The temperature dropped in an instant, the air turning sharp and suffocating as red smoke rose from the battlefield below, as if the dead themselves were reaching upward.

Then—

The clouds split open.

A single drop fell.

Then another.

And another.

Rain.

But not water.

Blood.

It poured from the heavens in a relentless downpour, each droplet glistening darkly as it fell. And then—mid-air—

They changed.

Each drop sharpened.

Twisting.

Hardening.

Becoming spikes.

“—!”

The first wave struck.

Armor shattered like glass. Flesh tore open without resistance. Soldiers collapsed before they could even scream, while magicians raised their hands too late, their incantations drowned in the overwhelming roar of chaos.

The battlefield erupted.

Screams filled the air as crimson spikes pierced everything in their path. Each one carried death with absolute certainty—like judgment falling from the sky.

Within moments—

The ground was covered in bodies.

More than before.

Far more.

A merciless harvest.

Yuui stood frozen, her body trembling as the rain fell around her.

“Why…?”

Her voice cracked.

“Why… why… why has it come to this…?”

Each word broke apart, swallowed by the storm.

Her chest tightened as if the weight of the entire battlefield pressed down on her.

Every choice.
Every moment.
Everything had led here.

“Is it because of the people…?” she whispered.

Her vision blurred.

“The king…?”

Her thoughts spiraled, slipping further into despair.

“…God?”

The rain continued to fall.

Cold.

Endless.

And above it all—

Winter stood unmoving.

Watching.

“No… no—this is all happening because of me…!”

Yuui’s voice broke as the words forced their way out.

“I’m the one who drew the circle… If I hadn’t done that… we’d both be sitting on that bench right now… listening to music… laughing like we used to…”

Her breath hitched.

A sob escaped her lips—then another—until her voice dissolved completely into the storm, swallowed by the endless rain of blood and the screams tearing the kingdom apart.

“Help—!”

A young soldier’s cry rang out, sharp and desperate.

“Run!” a grizzled veteran roared from somewhere in the chaos.

“We’re all going to die!”

The voices overlapped. Crashed. Disappeared.

Yuui stood there—

Frozen.

“We can’t stop him…” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.

Her sword hung limply at her side, its weight unbearable. No—everything felt unbearable. Each breath dragged through her chest, heavier than the last. Each second stretched endlessly, tightening the dread coiling inside her.

Around her—

Bodies.

So many bodies.

Comrades who had fought until their last breath. Warriors who had stood their ground even when hope had already died.

And yet—

Even in death…

They couldn’t escape him.

“…!”

Yuui’s eyes widened.

The blood.

It was moving.

Thick. Dark. Unnatural.

It seeped out from the corpses, slithering across the battlefield like living serpents, writhing and twisting as if drawn by an unseen force.

Toward him.

“No…” Yuui stepped back, her legs shaking. “No… this can’t be happening…”

But it was.

At the center of it all—

Winter stood.

Still.

Silent.

Untouched.

A figure of quiet ruin.

His pale, gaunt face showed nothing. No anger. No joy. No hesitation.

Only cold calculation.

The streams of blood coiled upward, spiraling around him, gathering into a massive, swirling mass above his head. It grew thicker with every passing second, darkening the sky further—like a storm born not of clouds, but of death itself.

Yuui felt her stomach twist.

She knew what was coming.

The cloud pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

Drops began to fall.

Heavy.

Sharp.

Unforgiving.

The blood rain returned.

Screams erupted across the battlefield as the droplets hardened mid-air, transforming into deadly spikes that tore through armor and flesh alike. Each one struck with lethal precision, leaving no room for escape.

“—!”

More bodies fell.

More voices vanished.

The storm only grew louder.

Yuui stood there, unable to move, her vision trembling as the world collapsed around her.

“He’s… using them…” she whispered, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

Her gaze fixed on the sky.

“...He’s using their blood… as a weapon…”

Her thoughts raced.

But every path—

Every possibility—

Led to the same conclusion.

Despair.

The longer they fought, the stronger he became.

Every death fed him.

Every drop of blood strengthened him.

This wasn’t a battle.

It was a harvest.

“We can’t stop him…” Yuui said again, barely audible beneath the roar of the storm.

The words felt heavier this time.

Final.

Absolute.

Winter was unstoppable.

And the more they resisted—

The more they fought—

The more they were consumed.

By him.