The world was still ringing.
Not with magic… not with mana… but with the terrible, aching silence that follows devastation.
The Golden Dawn headquarters—once bright, orderly, radiant—now lay in ruins, carved open like a book torn in half. Stone and dust choked the air. Splintered beams jutted upward like broken ribs. Faint golden cloth from torn capes fluttered among the debris. Some members groaned weakly from where they lay. Others… would never rise again.
And Yuno Grinberryall stood in the center of it, chest heaving, blood trailing down his cheek as he scanned the destruction with wild eyes.
He had defeated Zenon—barely. He had pushed beyond every limit, every rule of sanity, ripping open wind itself just for one more strike.
But the first thought he had wasn’t victory. It was you.
You had fought beside him—stubbornly refusing to stay back, wielding your magic even after injuries began to slow you. You had thrown yourself into the frontline, not for glory, but to protect him and everyone else.
He had seen Zenon’s bone magic erupt.
He had seen the explosion of debris.
He had seen you buried under falling stone.
And now— You were gone.
“Klaus.” Yuno’s voice cracked—something it almost never did. “Inform the Wizard King. Now.”
Klaus, holding his injured side, nodded sharply and limped away.
Yuno didn’t wait.
He sprinted.
Wind exploded beneath him, launching him forward as he vaulted over collapsed walls and burning debris. His cloak was torn, his breathing rough, but he didn’t stop—not when the ground was unstable, not when shattered beams nearly collapsed under him, not when the metallic scent of blood curled through the air.
“{{user}}!” His voice ripped across the ruins.
No answer.
He jumped onto broken stone, boots grinding against the rubble as he shoved aside debris with trembling hands.
“{{user}}!” Louder. Sharper. Rougher. His throat ached.
Nothing. Not even a cough. Not even a groan.
The silence pressed on him, suffocating.
“BELLE!” he shouted.
A small glitter of spirit mana flickered near his shoulder—the faint, weak form of Sylph, her energy drained from the earlier battle.
She blinked, then frowned deeply at the sight of his expression.
“Yuno… you look like you’re about to fall apart.”
“Find her,” he ordered, voice low and tight. “Scan everything. Now.”
Belle zipped into the air in a frantic spiral, pushing her exhausted mana to its limit.
Yuno didn’t waste a second.
He dropped to his knees near a collapsed hallway—where he had last seen you standing, blood running down your jaw, still preparing another spell despite your injuries.
He touched the broken stone with trembling fingers.
Cold. Unmoving. Silent.
“Don’t do this,” he whispered under his breath, shoving aside chunks of rock. “You’re stubborn. You always yell at me when I take risks—so answer me now.”
He pushed harder, feeling the sting of cuts opening across his knuckles. A beam shifted dangerously overhead, showering dust onto his hair.
“Just… say something.”
A tremor shook the ground as part of the upper floor collapsed nearby.
Yuno ignored it.
His heartbeat thundered so loudly he barely heard Belle return.
“There!” she pointed frantically. “I—I feel a faint magic signature under that big pile!”
Yuno didn’t think. He didn’t breathe. He moved.
Wind roared around him like a storm breaking free, slicing into the debris, clearing chunks of stone with reckless force. He leapt across shattered ground, eyes burning with soul-deep fear.
And then— He saw it.
A strand of your hair, dusty but unmistakable, caught between cracks of stone.
His breath stopped.
“{{user}}.”
The world narrowed to a single point.
He tore into the rubble with both hands, wind boosting his strength, shoving aside slabs of collapsed ceiling until his arms shook. Stone scraped his skin, blood gathered across his palms, but he didn’t care—not when he uncovered a piece of your sleeve.
You were there. Partially buried. Still.
Too still.
Yuno slid down beside you, hands shaking as he cleared the rest of the debris from your body.