Chapter Fifteen: Sins of the Past, Sins of a Forgotten Future

The aftermath at Fushimi Inari Taisha raised more questions than answers.

The desecrated shrine, the Rank 4 Sidhe, the sudden appearance and retreat of multiple Angel-class entities — everything pointed to something far larger than a simple dungeon breach.

Artemis Unit and Zero were escorted back to Dungeon Society Central HQ under heavy guard. Upon arrival, they were taken directly to the secure briefing room.

Commander Akira Hanzo stood before a large holographic display, reviewing the footage captured by the Magicyte cameras. His expression was unreadable as he watched Zero’s brutal duel with Gralia’kal and the subsequent collapse of the breach.

He paused the recording and turned.

“Arthur,” Hanzo said. “From your point of view, how did Zero fare in his battle? Even from this camera footage, we still can’t fully estimate his skills.”

Arthur stood straight, though the exhaustion from fighting and killing so many Angels was clear in his posture. His golden armor was scorched and dented in several places.

“Commander,” he began, voice steady but serious, “this Zero is formidable. During our brief exchange before we set out on this mission, I underestimated him. His skill with a blade is almost, if not equal, to yours. In terms of raw strength… he can go toe-to-toe with a Sidhe and survive.”

Arthur paused, then added more quietly:

“If I had stood against one alone, I would have perished.”

The room fell silent.

Merlin adjusted his glasses, still analyzing residual readings on his Codex. Morgana and Lancelot stood nearby, both looking drained. Zero himself remained silent near the back of the room, arms crossed, eyes distant as if still processing the memories that had begun to surface during the fight.

Hanzo studied Zero for a long moment, then looked back at Arthur.

“So the reports were not exaggerated. A Class 5 Prisoner who can force a Rank 4 Sidhe to his knees… and cut him down.”

He turned fully toward Zero.

“You continue to exceed every expectation, Zero. And every warning.”

Zero finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with the residual intensity of battle.

“He called me ‘failed king’ again. And mentioned the Architects of Fate. The more I hear those words… the more I remember.”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Then we need to talk. Properly. About what you are… and what the Fae truly want with this world.” said Hanzo

Zero let out a short, dry laugh.

“Hell, if I knew that… you think I’d be in this room with you lot? No. I’d be inside their little reality tears kicking ass.”

Commander Hanzo actually chuckled at that, though the amusement didn’t last long.

“Arthur,” he said, turning to the golden-armored knight, “the King has asked that you return to the kingdom. Some things are beginning to spiral out of control.”

Arthur nodded solemnly.

“Understood, Shogun. We’ll depart immediately.”

The Artemis Unit gathered their gear and left shortly after. Merlin gave Zero one last curious glance, Morgana offered a quiet nod of respect, and Lancelot simply grunted. Arthur paused at the door for a moment, looking back at Zero.

“Don’t die before we meet again, Fatebreaker.”

Then they were gone.

Zero was escorted under heavy armed guard to a secure dormitory wing. Even after everything he had proven, the Society still wasn’t willing to leave a Class 5 completely unsupervised while he slept.

Meanwhile – Realm of the Sidhe

In a vast, otherworldly chamber of black stone and floating crystals, a funeral fire burned.

The remains of Gralia’kal lay upon a pyre of pale wood that burned with cold, silver flames. Around it stood several high-ranking Sidhe, their expressions carved from ice and fury.

Sh’lir, the mage Zero had previously encountered, stood closest to the flames. Her elongated ears were drawn back, and her sharp fangs were bared in pure hatred.

“That worm…” she hissed, voice thick with venom. “I’ll flay him alive for this.”

A taller, more muscular Sidhe approached from the side. He carried a pair of massive twin-headed axes on his back — weapons known among their kind as Titan Killers. His presence was heavy and imposing.

“Don’t waste your breath, Sh’lir,” the man said, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. “Your brother was an idiot who took on a Fatebreaker without doing what he was ordered to by our masters.”

Sh’lir turned on him, teeth gritted.

“La’brok, shut your mouth. My brother was a Rank 4… like you.”

La’brok met her glare without flinching.

“Indeed. But his loud mouth and constant bragging got him killed. That falls under foolishness. The boy had an ego the size of our sacred mountain.”

He turned and began walking away, the twin axes shifting slightly with each step.

“Mourn him if you must. But don’t let grief make you stupid as well. The Fatebreaker is awake now. And the Architects are watching.”

Sh’lir remained by the burning remains of her brother, the silver flames reflecting in her cold eyes.

Somewhere across the veil between worlds, Zero slept under armed guard.

But the Sidhe would not forget. Nor would they forgive.

That night, Zero’s dreams were no longer scattered fragments.

They formed like reflections in glass — piece by piece, until the image became clear.

He stood on a battlefield that stretched beyond the horizon.

Flames danced across the blackened earth. The air reeked of blood, smoke, and burning steel. Around him, soldiers muttered their fears, their hopes, and their quiet dreams of surviving to see another dawn. Yet Zero stood at the forefront — stoic, vibrant, and absolute.

The armor he wore was so heavy that the ground cracked beneath every step. The sword in his hand defied convention: longer than any ordinary blade, darker than night, and humming with a power that felt older than the world itself.

A soldier whose features remained strangely blank ran forward and dropped to one knee.

“My king! The enemy are on the move — we have them cornered!”

Zero’s voice, when it came, was filled with both rage and absolute authority.

“Have the forces break off into three groups. Route them at the gates. Leave none standing.”

The soldiers snapped to attention as if struck by lightning and immediately began to move.

Then the sky tore open.

A massive creature fell from the heavens like a falling star. It had four heads — two of dragons, one of a twisted demon, and one of a radiant yet corrupted angel. Its body was an amalgam of flesh, scale, and divine light, held together by glowing runes that pulsed with unnatural life.

A Chorimere.

An amalgamated abomination forged by the Architects of Fate themselves — a Herald of Fate sent to crush rebellion.

Zero did not hesitate.

He charged forward with blinding speed, the earth shattering beneath his armored steps. His unconventional sword rose high as he closed the distance in a single breath, aiming straight for the creature’s central mass.

The memory fractured.

The battlefield vanished.

Zero found himself chained in a lightless prison cell.

His body was brutalized — beaten, broken, and covered in wounds that should have killed any normal man. Heavy manacles bit into his wrists and ankles. Yet even in that state, he remained defiant.

A figure stood beyond the bars, voice dripping with contempt.

“Your little rebellion has failed. We are glad. Now you will be judged before the Architects themselves. I do hope they give you a drawn-out death. I want to see you flayed alive… burned… castrated for your sins.”

Zero lifted his head slowly.

Despite the blood and the chains, he grinned — sharp, unbroken, and full of hatred.

Then he spat a mouthful of blood straight into the speaker’s face.

The figure recoiled in disgust.

Zero’s grin only widened.

Even broken… even chained… he still refused to kneel.

The dream began to collapse around him as morning light filtered into the secure dormitory.

Zero woke with the taste of blood still lingering on his tongue — and the weight of a forgotten crown pressing against his mind.

“Shit… these damn memories.”

Zero rubbed his temples hard, trying to push the lingering images of the battlefield and the prison cell out of his mind. He sighed, then began dressing in the gear the Society had provided him.

The door opened without warning.

A tall woman with long black hair and sharp, serious eyes stepped inside. She carried herself with the quiet confidence of someone used to command. Her armor was form-fitting black leather reinforced with carefully placed plates that protected every vital area. On her feet were distinctive bladed wing boots — designed for both devastating kicks and cutting power. Subtle wing motifs decorated her gear.

“Ah, good. You’re awake, Zero,” she said. “My name is Akane Azuma. I’m a Forward Commander for Skull Unit in Wakayama. I’ve requested Commander Hanzo transfer you there. Your skills would prove far more useful in our region. The dungeon we oversee is large… it’s called Okunoin.”

Zero finished securing his sword and simply looked at her.

“Hope the food is good.”

Akane raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to protest?”

“Why?” Zero cracked his neck once and picked up his equipment bag. “One fight is as good as another. Angels, demons, Fae… I don’t care which. I just want to fight strong opponents.”

Akane studied him for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.

“Then let us be off. We’ll be going by train.”

Zero stopped and frowned.

“…The hell is a train?”

Akane blinked, momentarily thrown by the genuine confusion in his voice. To her, a train was the most ordinary thing in the world. To Zero, who had only known sealed transport vans and the Flatwing aircraft, it was completely foreign.

She turned toward the door.

“You’ll see soon enough. Come.”

Zero followed her out of the room, silver hair still slightly messy from sleep, the weight of new memories sitting heavy behind his eyes.

Outside Central HQ, the morning sun was rising over Tokyo. In the distance, the Spiral Dungeon stood like a dark monument against the sky. They took an elevator deep into the lower levels of Central HQ, then followed several reinforced corridors until they reached a wide underground platform. Waiting there was a long, sleek silver tube with a sharp, aerodynamic design.

Akane gestured toward it.

“When the dungeons took over, the majority of the world’s landmarks were replaced. We had to completely alter our way of life to make travel seamless again. Before, trains operated on strict public timetables, ensuring people got where they needed to go without delay. Now the Public Sector has carved out new routes for everyday civilians. This Shinkansen, however, belongs exclusively to the Dungeon Society. It can take us anywhere in Japan at high speed.”

She continued explaining, but Zero wasn’t really listening.

He stood frozen on the platform, staring at the massive, streamlined machine with open curiosity. To him, it looked almost alien — far larger and more advanced than the sealed transport van he had ridden in before, and completely different from the Flatwing aircraft.

“Zero?” Akane asked, noticing his expression.

“What?” he replied, still slightly gobsmacked.

“We need to board. Let’s go. We’ll be late, and I like keeping a tight schedule.”

It was almost an order. Zero simply nodded and followed her inside.

The interior of the Shinkansen was clean, quiet, and surprisingly comfortable. Soft lighting ran along the ceiling, and the seats were far more refined than anything Zero had experienced so far. He sat down heavily, still glancing around as if expecting the entire thing to suddenly reveal itself as some kind of trap.

Once the train began to move — smoothly and almost silently — Akane activated her communication device and contacted Wakayama HQ.

“It’s me,” she said.

A male voice answered almost immediately.

“Commander Azuma. ETA?”

“Four hours,” she replied.

“Understood. We’ll have Skull Unit ready for your arrival. The situation at Okunoin has worsened since your last report.”

Akane ended the call and looked over at Zero, who was still watching the tunnel walls blur past the window with quiet fascination.

“You’ve never been on a train before,” she stated rather than asked.

Zero didn’t look away from the window.

“No. Only a van… and that flying machine. This is different.”

Akane studied him for a moment longer, then leaned back in her seat.

“You’ll get used to it. Wakayama is different from Tokyo. Okunoin is older, deeper, and far more dangerous than most of the dungeons you’ve seen so far. If even half of what Commander Hanzo told me about you is true… you’ll fit right in.”

Zero finally turned his gaze from the window, a faint, almost predatory smile touching his lips.

“Good.”

Outside, the high-speed Shinkansen raced south through the tunnels, carrying the Class 5 Prisoner toward a new battlefield. ZZero looked out the window as the landscape sped by in a blur. In the distance, the auras of far-off dungeons rose like sinister beacons against the sky — dark, pulsing columns of corrupted mana that seemed to call people to their deaths.

“Quite a sight, no?” Akane asked.

“If you mean the magical auras around the dungeons… then yes,” Zero replied.

Akane nodded, her expression serious.

“As of late, the dungeons have become… quite dangerous. Normally we would never leave our bases more than necessary and simply contend with what we already have. But we’ve been forced to recruit from outside our usual channels. Generally, we don’t free Prisoners. Policy dictates that we end your lives. It seems Commander Hanzo has been making that rule more flexible lately.”

She glanced at him.

“We’ve recruited several dozen Class 3 and Class 2 Prisoners to help us. Of course, none of them are up to your level of perceived danger. With the appearance of these Fae and their invasions, we’ve had to raise our standards for once.”

Zero remained nonchalant, still watching the distant dungeon auras.

“Their greatest weakness is their arrogance,” he said after a moment. He turned his head toward Akane. “They fear what they don’t understand… or what they can’t easily fight. Much like you Delvers.”

Akane’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“You judge Prisoners out of fear,” Zero continued, “because we might fight back. The Sidhe are just as guilty in that regard. They look down on humans the same way you look down on us.”

He leaned back in his seat, expression calm.

“I don’t care what any of you call me. Prisoner. Class 5. Fatebreaker. Failed king. Labels don’t change the fact that when something strong appears… I’ll fight it.”

Akane studied him in silence for a few seconds. There was no anger in his voice, no bitterness — just a cold, straightforward honesty. It was clear that Zero didn’t particularly care how the world viewed him. He only cared about the fight itself.

“…You’re different from the other Prisoners we’ve taken in,” she said eventually.

Zero gave a small shrug.

“I’ve had a long time to stop caring about what other people think.”

Outside the window, another distant dungeon aura pulsed like a dark star on the horizon as the Shinkansen continued racing south toward Wakayama.

Hours later, the Shinkansen pulled into the underground station beneath Wakayama HQ.

Even below ground, a cold chill was apparent — sharper and heavier than the air in Tokyo. Zero and Akane stepped into the elevator and ascended. When the doors opened, they walked out into the Skull Unit courtyard.

In the distance, the Okunoin Dungeon loomed against the skyline.

Its aura was immediately different. Where the Spiral Dungeon in Tokyo felt oppressive and ancient, the energy surrounding Okunoin was darker… colder… almost evil. It pulsed like a living thing, spreading farther than it should.

Akane noticed Zero studying it.

“You see it too, don’t you?” she said. “The energy from that place has been expanding. That’s why you’ll be working with our top unit. We call them the Tyrants — the best and most capable Delvers in Skull Unit.”

As if on cue, four figures approached across the courtyard.

Leading them was a tall, broad-shouldered man with short white hair and a permanent scowl. He wore heavy black armor reinforced with jagged Magicyte plating and carried a massive greatsword across his back.

“That’s Raiden Kurogane,” Akane said quietly. “Unit leader of the Tyrants. Specializes in overwhelming power. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s killed more Floor Bosses than most Delvers see in a lifetime.”

Beside him walked a lean woman with sharp red eyes and short silver-streaked black hair. Twin short swords hung at her hips, and her movements were unnaturally quiet.

“Yumi Shinohara. Speed and assassination specialist. She can kill a Class 3 monster before most people realize she’s moved.”

The third was a young man with messy blond hair and an easygoing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He carried a long staff covered in floating Magicyte orbs.

“Kai Hayashi. Our primary mage. Unpredictable, a little arrogant, but his large-scale magic is the real reason the Tyrants can clear deep floors so quickly.”

The last member was a calm, composed woman with long dark blue hair tied in a high ponytail. She wore lighter armor marked with healing runes and carried a slender spear that doubled as a casting focus.

“And Sora Amemiya. Support and battlefield control. She’s the one who keeps the rest of them alive when things go wrong.”

The four Tyrants stopped a few meters away, their eyes immediately locking onto Zero.

Raiden’s gaze was especially heavy.

“So this is the Class 5,” he said, voice low and rough. “The one who killed a Rank 4 Sidhe.”

Zero met his stare without flinching.

“Looks that way.”

A tense silence hung in the cold air of the courtyard as the elite of Skull Unit sized up the former Prisoner who had just been dropped into their ranks.

Behind them, the dark aura of Okunoin Dungeon continued to pulse like a waiting beast.

Raiden grinned — a sharp, predatory expression that matched the cold aura of Okunoin behind him.

“Good. Welcome to the Tyrants.”

He extended his hand.

Zero looked at it for a brief moment, then took it. Raiden’s grip was iron, testing him immediately. Zero returned the pressure without hesitation. For a second the two men stood locked in a silent contest of strength, neither giving an inch.

Raiden’s grin widened.

“You’ll fit in just fine.”

He released Zero’s hand and stepped back, nodding toward the rest of the unit.

Yumi Shinohara gave Zero a short, assessing look but said nothing. Kai Hayashi offered a casual two-fingered salute, still smiling that slightly unsettling smile. Sora Amemiya inclined her head politely, her expression calm and unreadable.

Akane Azuma crossed her arms.

“Raiden, get him settled and briefed. Okunoin’s outer layers have been unstable for the past three days. I want the Tyrants ready to deploy by tomorrow morning.”

“Understood, Commander.”

As Akane walked away, Raiden turned back to Zero.

“Come on. I’ll show you the barracks and the armory. The food’s decent, the gear’s better than Tokyo’s standard issue, and the dungeon…” He glanced over his shoulder at the dark, pulsing mass of Okunoin in the distance. “The dungeon doesn’t forgive weakness.”

Zero followed him without a word, the cold wind of Wakayama carrying the heavy, evil aura of the dungeon across the courtyard.

For the first time since waking up in chains, he had a new battlefield waiting for him.

And new people watching his back.

Whether that would last remained to be seen.

For now, however, this would be his unit for the foreseeable future. Whether they died or succeeded, Zero could only hope they were as strong as they seemed to be.

                                                                  END OF VOLUME 1