The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a pale light over the desolate landscape. Satoru knelt on the cold, barren ground, cradling your lifeless form in his arms. That vibrant spirit that once ignited the very air around you was now extinguished—a soft, haunting stillness claiming your delicate features.

He remembered how the corners of your mouth would twitch into a playful smirk at his cocky quips, how your laughter would fill him with pride. But that laughter was silenced now, stifled by the weight of a curse you'd set out to destroy.

“No…” The word escaped his lips as a broken sob. He’d faced countless curses, and emerged unscathed each time. But this—this was a blow that shattered the strongest sorcerer. Satoru’s heart felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting inside his chest, a hollow ache that threatened to consume him.

This makes no sense. Dying? To a 2nd Grade Curse? You were strong. This wasn't you. It can't be you. Your cold skin against his palm felt wrong, so different from the warmth he had cherished. “You promised,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he stroked your hair, wishing desperately for you to stir, to laugh, “You promised we’d always be together.”

But the silence only deepened, pressing down like the shadow looming overhead ominously.

"It's orchestrated," Suguru bluntly states, his fists clenched while Satoru's grip on you tightens, "This village is superstitious. I saw scriptures—a bunch of religious conservatives. I found traces of cursed energy in a cup in the village..."

"Those damn monkeys put poison in it." Suguru spat out with no filter, rambling out the truth based on his deductions but his voice was starting to fade from Satoru's hearing. He's snapping.

They're snapping.

The air crackles in cursed energy, suffocating and ominous.

"—would've still been alive if they didn't—"

"Hey, Suguru..."

Satoru stands up, carrying your limp form in his arms. His haunting, glowing azure eyes pierce through Suguru.

"Should we kill them all?"