The dawn light was a lie. By the time Ren realized it was morning, the world was already aflame. From deep within the old subway tunnels came the distant thrum of Argwan dreadnoughts—massive, obsidian sky-ships that had descended on Kyoto before the first call for aid could be sounded. Ren stood at the narrow exit of his hidden stronghold, the air above the hatch alive with violet search-beams and the electric scream of plasma thrusters. His heart pounded like war drums in his ears.
"We've got company," he rasped to Hiroshi, who hovered at his side, rifle at the ready. Behind them, Mika barricaded the door with iron girders. Koji's fingers danced over a hacked console, prising open every emergency exit map he could find. Serena loaded another clip into her shotgun. Yui—small, fierce—stood clutching Captain Beans, eyes like molten gold under the flicker of their lanterns.
Ren's breath caught when he saw her expression: a cool, hard flicker no tween should ever wear. "Be careful," he whispered, more to himself than to her.
Aboveground, the silent city roared to life in destruction. The first Argwan legion—squadrons of seven-foot commandos—slid through shattered iron gates like tides of violet flesh. Their pulse-rifles spat red beams into crumbling walls. Drones swarmed overhead, their violet searchlights painting the night in a deathly kaleidoscope.
"Move!" Ren ordered. "We fall back to the shrine entrance!"
They sprinted through the tunnels in a single line, boots echoing on water-slick concrete. The walls bled mold and faint whispers of the Hollowing's rhythm. Two hundred meters down, the shrine exit yawned like a black mouth beneath broken statues of forgotten deities. There, they set their trap.
Hiroshi and Hajime hefted salvaged barrels of argonite—a homemade explosive—while Koji hacked the drone network to loop false footage of empty tunnels. Serena and Mika took flanking positions in shallow alcoves. Yui and Ami crouched closest to Ren, his coat trailing behind him like a broken banner.
When the first commandos appeared—a squad of six—Ren signaled. Two barrels detonated in simultaneous bursts. The platform shattered in a storm of smoke and shrapnel. Violet shapes went flying through the air. The tunnel collapsed behind them, sealing their rear. Light vanished. Enforcer screams echoed.
"Now!" Ren shouted, charging from cover. He fired two shots—one through a helmet visor, one through a rifle barrel. The tunnel lit in muzzle-flash.
But Argwans did not fall easily. They surged. Claws sliced through flesh; skeletal blades gouged steel. Ren tanks fists through armor plates, teeth gritted against pain. Blood spurts against the damp walls.
Yui watched with a terrifying calm. When an enforcer loomed over Koji, she closed her eyes. A golden shockwave pulsed from her, and the soldier's scream ended in a single, hollow crack as his bones collapsed into dust. Haruto, perched above on a rusted pipe, whistled low. "She's… changing."
Yui didn't flinch. Her hair drifted in the aftershock, eyes glowing brighter than the tunnel lamps. She wiped sweat from her brow. "I'm… fine, Papa."
Ren's chest stung with pride and fear. "Stay close."
The fighting grew desperate. Serena fell back with three wounded children cradled in her arms. Mika blasted aside a charging brute, plasma torch sparks raining down like fireworks. Hajime's prosthetic leg caught fire but he kept fighting, carving a path to the exit.
Ren heard the far rumble of Argwan dreadnought engines squeezing the city above. Every second counted. Finally, he saw the silver shrine arch: an exit to the hillsides beyond. Just beyond that, the world still had trees.
He grabbed Yui's hand. Ami followed. They sprinted through the smoke into pale morning rain, which turned their tears to rivers on parched skin. But they were not free.
A thunderous crash shook the ridge. From the torn sky came the first of Mother's black carriers, disgorging an Argwan Hell squadron in bio-poisonous exosuits. Their gene-spliced crests dripped with parasitic vines. They moved with brutal precision, corralling survivors like livestock.
"No!" Ren roared. He raised his rifle. But even Haruto's sniper shots ricocheted off their armor. The ground beneath Yui's feet trembled. She turned, eyes flaring, and a silent pulse rippled outward—enough to stagger five of the Hell squad away, but not destroy them. The rest advanced.
Ren felt his resolve crack. "Fall back! Through the forest!" He gathered the children, leading them down the slope into tangled bamboo underbrush.
Branches lashed at their faces; roots betrayed their footing. But Yui ran with unnatural grace, her golden eyes scanning shadows. Ami stumbled twice, but Yui caught her both times. They reached a hidden hollow beneath ancient roots—their secondary refuge.
Inside, panting, they watched as the Argwan Hell forces spread through the woods like disease. Ren wrapped Yui in his coat. "You saved us," he told her, voice quivering. "Thank you."
Yui pressed her forehead against his chest. "I just… want you safe."
Ren held her so tight his bones cracked. "Always."
---
**Two Nights Later**, Ren's nightmares were haunted by Argwan Hell. Stories whispered among refugees spoke of that place where prisoners were tortured in endless choices—the kind no soul should survive. Give up two children to die before your eyes, or witness both perish. Or endure the hot lash of biobombs in your flesh until you spill the names of every hidden comrade.
Ren poured over stolen schematics by lantern-light in the hidden camp. Mika watched him, eyes hollow. "You think they'll take her?"
Ren's jaw clenched. "They will. Ryo wants them alive. Yui's power..."
Ami interrupted, sliding into his lap. "They took Sakura," she whispered. "My sister. They said if I didn't pick which one of us to leave here, they'd kill both."
Ren's throat tightened. "I'm so sorry." He brushed her hair back. "They won't touch Yui."
He stared at Yui, who traced symbols in the dirt—golden ink against gray earth. She glanced up, colder than the night wind. "They will."
He realized then: she had already lost something in that first encounter. A childish light had died. In its place, a steel core. She would not beg or plead. She would break them first.
---
**The Rescue Gambit**: Over the next week, Ren and Koji devised a plan to infiltrate Argwan Hell deep beneath the citadel. They'd swarm through maintenance tunnels Ryo himself had once mapped. They would find Yui—and any children still alive—and burn the Hell from within.
Every night Ren trained Yui: guard drills, silent shadow-walking, controlling her golden shockwaves without letting the forest feel her anger. She grew stronger, but colder. Gone was the girl who drew sunflowers in the dark. Now, she whispered only of steel and justice.
On the eve of the operation, they gathered under the full moon. Shivering refugees—twelve children who still believed in miracles—huddled with Koji, Serena, Mika, Hajime's ghost, and Hiroshi. Each one clutched a weapon scavenged from Argwan corpses, their eyes shining with rage and hope.
Ren looked at Yui and saw his daughter and a warrior intertwined. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "We go at midnight," he said. "Remember: we don't leave anyone behind. We're going to bring you home."
Yui nodded, steel in her gaze. "I know."
Ren lifted Ami's hand, squeezing it gently. "You're all survivors. And tomorrow, we show them why."
At the citadel's heart, Argwan watchers sensed the tremor—an unseen quake of rebellion echoing through their veins. In the throne room, Kaito trembled as he intercepted a lone packet of comms chatter: an encrypted call to arms, to underground tunnels flooding with human ghosts.
Ryo heard it too. He stared at Shinobu's helm. A single tear of ichor—and something darker—rolled from his eye.
Tomorrow, the ghosts would rise. And even Argwan Hell would burn