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There was not a single cloud that day.
There was no sign of rain, but the world was moist and sticky.
On a normal day, it would be a night of twinkling stars.
On a normal day, it would be a night of silence.
But on that particular day, the usual night never came.
The stars were mercilessly obscured by the black smoke rising from the ground.
In stark contrast to the somber sky, the ground was red, red, red, and engulfed in unrelenting flames.
Angry shouts and screams ― voices of anger, sorrow, and cries for help pierced the night air endlessly.
A storm of sword fights erupted, and the smell of blood permeated the air.
The unstoppable malice laid waste to the city ― to the innocent people.
To sum it up in one word: heartless. It was a devil’s deed. But there was no other choice but to accept it.
“Hope comes to those who know despair.”
A young man wearing a mask muttered to himself as he gazed at the red-burning city.
His voice is too flat to be an eyewitness to the horrific scene unfolding before his eyes.
There was no emotion in his words. Emotions did not exist “there.”
Was it because of the mask that made it difficult to grasp the subtleties of his emotions?
Or perhaps…
“…I won’t ask for forgiveness. You can hate me to your heart’s content.”
The young man stroked his mask with his right hand, and the burning city flashed in his eyes.
The night wind made his cloak flutter, simultaneously snatching away the atmosphere the young man wore.
“…This will end the stalemate that has lasted so long.”
The young man tried to reach out to the people who were calling out for help――,
“…Hypocrisy.”
――He stopped the helping hand.
Then, abandoning all emotion, the young man turned himself around and opened his arms.
“Now ― let the war begin.”