Chapter Thirteen: Last Day

  Returning to school felt like stepping into a world both familiar and alien. The halls buzzed with the usual chatter of students and teachers, life going on as though nothing had changed. But for T.LAC and Yozora, everything had. They moved through the crowd like shadows, eyes rimmed with the weight of sleepless nights, grief clinging to them like a second skin. The laughter around them sounded distant, hollow, like a melody they no longer recognized. Less than a week had passed since Mara was murdered, but her absence already felt like an eternity—a void that neither of them could find the words to express.

  T.LAC couldn’t stop replaying the moment he found out, the sharp sting of loss still fresh. It wasn't just that Mara was gone; it was the way she had been taken. A sudden, cruel twist of fate, yes—but he knew there was something darker behind it. Jezebel had killed her, and the sinister reason for it haunted his every thought.

  Yozora’s mind was trapped in the last moments of Mara’s life, her death replaying over and over. He could still see her face, the pain in her eyes, the way she had been tormented. Was there something they could have done? Had there been signs they missed? A way they could have saved her? These thoughts churned endlessly, tormenting him with every passing minute.

  As they sat in class, the teachers' voices became nothing more than a dull hum, unable to pierce the fog of grief that enveloped them both. Every tick of the clock seemed to stretch into an eternity. All they could think about was Mara—the argument they had, the guilt of what followed. The memories of their last moments together haunted them: the promise they had made to go to college together, the bond that had once seemed unbreakable. And then, in a single, violent heartbeat, that world had shattered.

  "Yozora," Ms. Morn's voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the present. "You’ll be graduating as valedictorian now. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how close the three of you were."

  Yozora barely looked up. His only response was a quiet, detached, "Yeah, sure."

  Ms. Morn paused for a moment, her expression softening. "Tomorrow your class graduates," she added gently. "Try to enjoy it, even just a little."

  The words hung in the air, feeling both distant and impossible. The bell rang, signaling the end of the day, but neither T.LAC nor Yozora reacted. Silently, they rose from their seats and walked out of the classroom together, the weight of tomorrow’s graduation pressing down on them like a storm cloud. It was supposed to be a day of celebration, a day where everything they’d worked for culminated in one final moment. But all they could think about was Mara—what should have been, and what was now lost forever. As they made their way home, the familiar streets felt different, as though the world had shifted in a way only they could feel. Tomorrow, they would graduate. But nothing would ever feel the same again.

  The morning of graduation arrived with a bittersweet mixture of emotions for Yozora. The sun rose over the horizon, bathing the outdoor ceremony in golden light, but to him, it only served as a reminder of everything that had been lost. As he stood at the podium, his hands gripping its edges tightly, he could feel the weight of his valedictorian robes pressing down on him, heavier than he ever imagined. This honor wasn’t his to bear—it belonged to Mara. His eyes shifted toward T.LAC, standing off to the side as the salutatorian, looking as though his mind was drifting far from the ceremony. Yozora knew exactly what he was thinking because the same thought burned in his own mind. “Mara should have been here.”She should have been the one in front of the crowd, delivering the speech she’d worked on for over a year, her confident smile lighting up the stage. But now, she was gone—her future, her dreams, stolen by a cruel twist of fate. Yozora and T.LAC were left to carry not only their own burdens but also the weight of her unfulfilled hopes and dreams.

  Yozora’s gaze swept across the crowd of excited graduates, their faces glowing with joy and anticipation for the future. Their laughter and cheers echoed in the air, but it all seemed distant to him—like a scene from a world he no longer belonged to. The chasm of Mara's absence felt more real than anything else, her memory lingering in the sunlight like a shadow that refused to fade. As he stepped forward to begin his speech, the words caught in his throat. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he thought he wouldn’t be able to do it. But then a strange feeling washed over him—a sudden shock, like an icy current running down his spine. His instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong. His eyes darted frantically across the crowd, scanning every face, every corner of the area. His heart pounded in his chest as his gaze locked onto a group of figures standing at the very back, dressed in unusual clothing that stood out like a sore thumb among the sea of graduation gowns. “Who are they?” Yozora thought, a gnawing sense of dread creeping in. “Something’s wrong”. His grip tightened on the podium, knuckles white. "T!" he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “Do you feel that?”

  T.LAC, standing nearby, blinked out of his daydream and subtly shifted his gaze. His usually casual demeanor melted away as he squinted, spotting the strange figures Yozora was talking about. “Yeah,” he muttered, his muscles tensing. “Those guys in the back... they’re Tuners.”

  Yozora’s heart sank. His gut told him something was about to happen—something terrible. The carefree laughter of the graduates around him suddenly felt fragile, like glass waiting to shatter. The sea of students looked at Yozora with growing confusion, sensing his unease. His speech faltered, and whispers rippled through the crowd. What’s going on? Is he okay? their faces seemed to ask.

  Yozora’s eyes darted back to the figures in the back—only to find that they were gone. “Oh no.” His blood ran cold. “Where did they go?” Before he could react, the air around him seemed to crackle, and then the crowd erupted into screams. Panic surged like wildfire as the students began to scatter in every direction, their joyful expressions replaced by sheer terror.

  T.LAC's eyes widened, frozen in place. “Zora!” he shouted, his voice filled with alarm. “Behind you?!”

  Yozora spun around, but it was too late. A powerful blow struck him in the back, sending him flying across the stage, his body slamming into the crowd of graduates like a ragdoll, bouncing off bodies and crashing through chairs. His body finally came to a halt as he collided into a nearby hill. His mind spun, his vision blurred as pain radiated through every inch of his body. Groaning, Yozora struggled to lift his head, his eyes darting across the scene in front of him. Students were running in all directions, some screaming, others frozen in shock. Several graduates lay on the ground, unmoving—lifeless. “This can’t be happening...” Yozora’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what was going on. “Who were those, Tuners? What do they want?” He pushed himself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his back, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound of chaos filled the air—shouts, sobs, and the growing horror of a peaceful graduation day turned into a nightmare. Yozora's instincts screamed at him to act. The sharp, metallic scent of blood filling his nostrils. His limbs felt heavy, leaden with pain, but that was nothing compared to the sight before him. The graduates lay scattered like shattered porcelain, their bodies broken and twisted in grotesque angles. Their faces, once full of life and hope, were now frozen in masks of horror. Their screams still echoed in his ears, a cacophony of agony that tore at his soul.

  The ceremony was a nightmare made real. The air was thick with the sickening stench of fear, and death. Every breath Yozora took burned his lungs as his heart pounded in his chest, a frantic, desperate rhythm that mirrored the chaos around him. But even amidst the terror, he knew he had to stay calm. He couldn’t let panic overtake him. He had to fight for them. A knot of dread twisted in his gut, not from fear for his own life, but for those who still struggled to survive. He couldn’t shake the memory of Mara, couldn’t forget the anguish of watching her fall. That image haunted him, a constant reminder of how little he could do. The weight of helplessness was suffocating, pressing down on him with the weight of a thousand regrets. His body refused to move, bound by pain and exhaustion, but his mind... his mind was somewhere darker. “Maybe this is all my fault.” The thought gripped him like a vice, sinking deep into his chest. “If Mara and T.LAC had never met me... If I had died when I was supposed to... maybe they would still be happy.” The guilt was overwhelming, a gnawing wound that festered with every heartbeat.

  Then, amidst the swirling fog of despair, a voice cut through the haze. “Young Master... You must wake up. Release your pain, release your anger.”

  The words struck him like a physical blow, jolting his mind back to the present. His fingers twitched, and with a surge of will, Yozora began to rise. His legs shook beneath him, but he stood, driven by a desperate need to do something—anything—to stop the carnage unfolding before his eyes. “Thanks Sutā Geizā”.

  But before he could fully regain his footing, a figure materialized behind him—a shadow looming in the chaos. "I thought they said you were back," the figure sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "The legend himself. Suits Class, right? And yet, you can’t even defend yourself."

  The figure shook his head, his hands resting on his hips in exaggerated disappointment. "Tsk tsk... very unimpressed."

  Before Yozora could react, the figure struck again. The impact was brutal, but this time, before Yozora could even hit the ground, the figure caught him, his face pressed into the palm of the enemy’s hand. The grip was ironclad, unyielding, lifting him like a paper. The figure leaned in close, speaking in a calm, almost sadistic tone. "Don’t worry," he whispered. "Your little augmenter friend? He’s out cold. My team’s got him. So, it’s just you and me now. And here’s the fun part—I’ve been tasked with obliterating everyone here... except you two. But they didn’t say I couldn’t have a little fun first."

  The figure’s grip tightened, his smile widening in wicked delight. "So, here’s the deal. I’m going to kill everyone around you, one by one, and you’ll get to watch. And while you’re watching, I’ll make sure you suffer. So, knuckle up, Mr. Legend. This is going to be a blast."

  Yozora’s heart sank as he realized the full extent of the nightmare he had been dragged into.

  “Who wants to be first?!” he sneered, his voice booming across the devastated field. He scanned the survivors, taunting them with his words. "Oh, no volunteers? Well, okay, I’ll pick. Every minute you don’t fight back, Yozora, I’ll start popping heads, one by one. Let’s see how long you can watch."

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Yozora’s chest tightened as he rose to his feet, still reeling from the earlier attack. His mind raced, calculating his next move. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him. He had to protect what was left of the crowd—their lives hung in the balance. “Fine,” Yozora said through gritted teeth, his voice low and calm despite the storm of emotions raging within him. “I’ll fight. But if I do, they don’t get hurt.”

  The figure smile widened into a cruel grin. “No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head mockingly. “They die anyway. The only thing you get to decide is how long it takes, and how messy it gets.”

  Yozora’s blood boiled, but he kept his composure. He needed to stay focused if he had any chance of saving them. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice steady.

  The figure chuckled darkly, clearly amused by the question. “My name? Hahaha! You want to know my name, you piece of shit? It’s Rexx.”

  Yozora nodded slowly, his gaze narrowing. “Rexx, I’m sorry, but today your life ends here.” He took a deep breath, “Illuminate the infinite sky, Sutā Geizā. The blade shimmered in the dim light, its energy radiating as it formed in Yozora’s hand. “You’ve killed too many innocent people. And for that, you’ll pay with your life.”

  Rexx tilted his head, looking mildly entertained. He shook his head and burst out laughing. “You mean this fodder? These weaklings aren’t even worth the effort! Killing them is like crushing bugs.”

  Yozora ignored his taunts. His eyes closed briefly as he shifted into a familiar stance—katana sheathed, body steady, his focus sharp. The world around him seemed to slow as he entered a state of calm before the storm.

  “Look, Rexx,” Yozora said softly, “You can save your friends, or you can die with them. The choice is yours.”

  Rexx glanced back at his two comrades, Lila and Toya, who stood nearby with arrogant grins. His confidence remained unshaken. “You think you can beat us? There’s three of us, and only one of you.”

  As Rexx laughed, Yozora’s eyes snapped open, the intensity in them enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. “Sutā Geizā Fumi: Form Eight—Kyomu Hokō (Void Walker).”

  In an instant, Yozora vanished from sight, his body flickering out of existence like a wisp of smoke. Rexx’s laughter died in his throat, his eyes darting around in confusion. “Where the hell did, he go?!”

  Before Rexx could react, Yozora reappeared beside T.LAC, who lay unconscious on the ground. With a swift movement, Yozora lifted him gently and set him against the remnants of a broken pillar. “Rest here for now, T,” Yozora whispered. “I’ve got some rats to take care of.”

  Rexx, now visibly agitated, barked orders at his comrades. “Lila! Toya! Where’s the augmenter? Where did he go?!”

  Lila and Toya spun around, their eyes wide with shock. “He was right here!” Lila stammered, panic creeping into her voice. “We don’t know where he—”

  Their argument was cut short as Yozora reappeared behind them, his katana flashing through the air. “Sutā Geizā Fumi: Form Two, Tachi (Sever)!” he called out, releasing a crescent-shaped wave of energy that sliced through the air like a razor’s edge. The arc of Hindo cleaved through Lila and Toya, cutting their bodies in half before they even realized what had happened. Blood splattered hitting the ground as their lifeless forms crumpled to the floor. Yozora stood still for a moment, the tension in the air thick as he flicked the blood from his blade with a swift, practiced motion. Rexx’s eyes widened in disbelief. His laughter and mockery had vanished, replaced by a simmering rage and fear he hadn’t expected. Yozora turned to face him, his gaze cold and unrelenting. “Now,” Yozora said, his voice like ice, “It’s you and I.”

  Rexx clenched his fists, fury boiling beneath his skin. “You’ll regret this,” he snarled, his body surging with dark energy. “You’ve only made this more painful for yourself.”

  Yozora’s stance remained steady, his katana at the ready. “Shhh, Rexx. You ruined a moment of peace for T and I. Mara’s speech is ruined because of you.” The wind blew softly, carrying with it the sharp scent of blood from the battlefield. He could hear the sound of Rexx's boots grinding into the dirt as the brute planted his feet for an attack. Yozora’s eyes narrowed, his senses heightened.

  Without warning, Rexx charged forward, his massive axe glinting in the sunlight. With a deafening roar, he swung the weapon down with terrifying force, aiming to split Yozora in half. The sheer power behind the strike caused the ground to tremble.

  In a flash, Yozora sidestepped, his movements like a blur of blue light. He circled behind Rexx, slashing with pinpoint precision at his exposed back, hoping to land a critical hit. His katana cut through the air, slicing through Rexx's cloak. But as the fabric fell away, Yozora’s heart sank. Rexx’s skin was like armor—hardened and impenetrable. “He’s an Augmenter,” Yozora muttered, his mind racing.

  Rexx glanced over his shoulder, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “That weak little scratch? It won’t do shit against me.” With a swift turn, he swung his axe in a wide arc, aiming to catch Yozora off guard.

  But Yozora’s reflexes were too fast. He deflected the blow with his katana, their weapons clashing in a burst of sparks that sent shockwaves through the air. For a brief moment, they were locked in a deadly dance, their movements creating gusts of wind that rippled across the battlefield. With a roar, Rexx tensed his muscles, winding up a devastating blow. His speed was shocking for his size, and Yozora barely managed to deflect the attack, but the sheer power of it sent him sliding backward, his boots digging deep into the dirt as he struggled to regain his footing.

  Panting, Yozora regrouped, his eyes never leaving Rexx. He pivoted again, circling his opponent, moving so fast that afterimages appeared in every direction. Rexx, frustrated by the illusion, spun and delivered a powerful backfist to one of the afterimages—only to realize he had been tricked. Two more afterimages appeared above Rexx’s head, taunting him. He slashed at them wildly, but his axe met only air. And in that instant, Yozora appeared from below, his katana flashing in the sunlight. “Sutā Geizā Fumi: Form Four—Yūrei Giri (Spectral Slash)!” Yozora unleashed a crescent-shaped wave of Hindo, the energy ripping upwards from his katana like a tearing wind.

  Rexx leaped back at the last second, the attack grazing him but not inflicting any serious damage. He landed heavily on the ground, his breathing ragged but his grin unshaken. “I underestimated you, boy,” Rexx said, his voice filled with contempt. “But only a little. That last attack was aimed right at my Toro. No wonder their scared of you.” His eyes burned with fury as he tore the remains of his cloak from his body, revealing his muscular frame covered in scars. “The old you? You would’ve killed me in an instant. But now? You’re a pathetic shadow.” He spit on the ground, eyes locked on Yozora with murderous intent. “Raimu: Axe of Ragnar!” Rexx bellowed, and his axe transformed in his hands, red electricity crackling around the blade. The air grew thick with tension as the energy from his weapon pulsed like a living thing. “Better not let this hit you,” Rexx sneered, the bloodlust clear in his eyes. “Or you’ll be minced meat.”

  In a flash, Rexx charged, moving with blinding speed. Before Yozora could fully react, Rexx was already upon him, his axe swinging downward in a devastating arc. Yozora raised his katana to block, but the impact was overwhelming. The ground beneath Yozora shattered like glass, spiderweb cracks radiating from where he stood. His arms trembled under the sheer force. Rexx grinned viciously, leaning in closer. “I told you not to get hit.” He growled, activating his technique. “Axe of Ragnar Fumi—Red Arc!”

  A surge of red electricity shot through Rexx’s axe, its current blasting into Yozora’s body. Agony ripped through him as the shock tore at his muscles, his vision flashing white with pain. His teeth clenched, gritting against the burning energy coursing through his veins. Before he could recover, Rexx delivered a brutal front kick to Yozora’s gut, sending him hurtling through the air. Yozora crashed into a nearby building, the force of the impact collapsing the structure around him, debris and dust filling the air. As the dust settled, Rexx stood over the wreckage, his axe resting casually on his shoulder. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed through the battlefield. “Is this all the legend has to offer?” he jeered. “You’re nothing without your full power. You’re just... weak.”

  But just as Rexx turned to leave, a faint hum filled the air. The rubble shifted from beneath the debris, a figure slowly began to rise. Yozora, bloodied but alive, stood amidst the wreckage, his eyes glowing a fierce blue, his katana shimmering in his hand.

  “Chūseishi no Gyōshi (Neutron Gaze).” Yozora whispered, his voice steady despite the pain. Rexx’s laughter died in his throat, his expression hardening as Yozora took a step forward.

  Yozora's lips curled into a cold smile. “You want to see what I can do, Rexx? Let me show you.”

  The air around Yozora crackled with energy, the ground trembling beneath him. Rexx tightened his grip on his axe, his earlier confidence wavering. Something in Yozora had changed something dark, powerful, and unstoppable.

  Yozora advanced on Rexx with deliberate, measured steps, his katana glowing a haunting blue. Each step sent shards of broken debris crumbling underfoot. The energy surrounding Yozora grew palpable, humming with intensity as his focus narrowed. In a flash, Yozora lunged forward, his katana slicing through the air like a streak of lightning. Rexx reacted, twisting his enormous frame just in time, blocking the strike with the flat of his axe. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal, the sound ringing out across the battlefield. But Yozora used the force of the block to spin effortlessly, moving around Rexx’s defense like a ghost.

  Whoosh!

  Yozora dropped low, aiming a swift slash at Rexx’s legs. Rexx, roaring in anger, slammed his massive axe into the ground to block the blow. The force of the impact shook the earth beneath them, sending chunks of dirt and stone exploding upward. But by the time the dust settled, Yozora had already flipped backward, his glowing blue eyes locked onto Rexx. The battle raged like a storm—Rexx, with his brute strength, swinging his axe in wide, destructive arcs, while Yozora ducked, weaved, and countered with the precision of a master swordsman. The sound of their clashing weapons echoed like thunder, shockwaves rippling through the air with every strike. Yozora’s katana was a blur, cutting through the air with each precise slash, while Rexx’s raw power threatened to tear the battlefield apart with every swing of his axe.

  "This ends now," Yozora muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the chaos. He knew he had only one shot, one final move to end this battle. Yozora took a deep breath, his hand tightening on the hilt of his katana. "Chūseishi no Jutsu: Hoshi Ochi (Star Falls) ." His voice was low, with it came a rising, crackling energy that made the very air vibrate around him.

  Rexx’s eyes widened in recognition. "Hoshi Ochi?!" he growled, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare use that technique here. Not with all these people around.” His tone was more frantic now, a stark contrast to his earlier bravado.

  Yozora’s cold, unyielding stare bore into Rexx. "The area is clear, Rexx! While you boasted I used Reikon no Shinigami to move everyone away from the battlefield." raised his hand, In the palm of his hand, a swirling, glowing cluster of miniature stars began to form, growing brighter with each passing second. The energy emanating from it was overwhelming, the weight of it pressing down on the battlefield like the crushing gravity of a black hole.

  The energy in his hand glowed brighter, its power threatening to tear the very fabric of the space around them. Rexx's eyes widened in sheer panic as he took a step back. "You’re out of your mind!" Rexx yelled, fear creeping into his voice for the first time. "You’d blow up half the city with an attack like that! You can’t control it!"

  Rexx took another step back, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is why you were Zeroed, isn’t it?" he muttered to himself. "Who could have known you’d still have this kind of power?"

  The swirling cluster of stars in Yozora’s hand pulsed ominously, growing denser by the second, the air around him warping from the immense gravitational pull. It was clear now that Yozora had no intention of holding back. The force of his power alone was enough to rip through the battlefield, and Rexx knew it.

  But just as the tension reached its breaking point, Rexx's demeanor suddenly changed. A dark smile crept onto his lips. "Yozora," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "My mission is already over."

  Yozora’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Rexx’s grin widened as he spoke. “You set your friend down, didn’t you? T.LAC? He’s already gone. My job was simple: distract you while we took him. And now, it’s too late.”

  Yozora’s heart raced as his gaze darted around the battlefield, frantically searching for any sign of T.LAC. His blood ran cold. “Where is T?!” Yozora roared, his voice breaking with desperation. “Tell me where he is, now!”

  Rexx chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. “Sorry, kid. My job here is done. But don’t worry, I’ll give Jezebel your regards. You fucker.”

  Before Yozora could react, a portal ripped open behind Rexx, its dark energy swirling ominously. Two shadowy figures appeared from the portal, grabbing Rexx by his arms. With one last sneering grin, Rexx was pulled through the portal, disappearing into the void.

  Yozora lunged forward, reaching out, but the portal closed with a sickening snap before he could reach it. He stood there, frozen, his outstretched hand trembling in the empty air. The battlefield was silent, save for the faint crackling of the residual energy from his unfinished attack.

  T.LAC was gone.

  The weight of the moment crashed down on Yozora like a tidal wave, his mind reeling. He had failed. Again.

  The swirling stars in his hand flickered, the immense power dissipating as Yozora slowly lowered his arm. His vision blurred with frustration and anguish, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The gravity of what had just happened—what had been stolen from him—settled like a stone in his chest.

  T.LAC wakes up in a mysterious place, his surroundings unfamiliar, shrouded in an eerie stillness. Confusion clouds his mind as he struggles to recall how he got there. His voice comes out in a whisper, barely audible, as he calls out, "Zora… Zora, where?" His words fade into the silence, but before he can gather his thoughts, a voice emerges from the shadows—calm, yet laced with an unsettling familiarity.

  "Welcome home, little brother."