CHAPTER THREE
LET THE DAMNED FALL
Nearly three months had passed since the chaos that once unsettled the village. Time, as it often did, smoothed over fear with routine, and routine with celebration. Now, the village stood alive with color and noise—the final day of the annual Gramani Festival had arrived.
Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, their warm glow dancing across eager faces. Children laughed. Elders whispered. And beneath it all lingered something unspoken… expectation.
At the center of it all stood the Village Head, his presence commanding silence with nothing more than a raised hand and a measured smile.
"Welcome, everyone," he began, his voice steady, carrying across the crowd. "Today marks the final day of our yearly festival—Gramani."
A pause. His gaze swept across the villagers.
"As you all know, this is no ordinary celebration. This festival determines more than honor. It chooses the one who will guide this village forward… the one whose decisions will ensure our survival."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Now then," he continued, "let the contestants step forward."
They did—young men, strong and hopeful, each carrying ambition in their posture.
From within the crowd came hushed voices, careless but sharp.
"Why even bother continuing? We already know who's going to win."
"The chief's son, obviously."
Soft laughter followed.
The Village Head heard. Of course he did.
And yet… he only smiled.
"Contestants," he said, his tone unwavering, "it is time for the final trial of the festival."
A deliberate pause.
"The Fishing Trial."
Some shifted. Others straightened.
"This trial will test your ability to provide—to sustain life, not just your own, but that of this entire village."
His eyes lingered, briefly, on one boy in particular.
"Now go. And good luck."
Families gathered around the contestants, offering prayers, words of encouragement, quiet hope.
The Village Head stepped closer to his son.
"Go out there," he said softly. "Make me proud, Yuno."
Yuno nodded. "Yes, Father."
And with that—
"Let the final trial begin."
The contestants made their way toward the shore, their laughter carried by the wind.
Taro walked beside Yuno, hands behind his head, grinning lazily.
"You know," he said, "I still don't get why we have to compete."
Yuno glanced at him.
Taro continued, smirking. "We already know who's going to win. Right?"
Yuno let out a small laugh. "I haven't won yet. Don't count yourselves out—you might surprise me."
"Yeah, right."
The others burst into laughter.
"Just don't forget your best friend when you become Village Head," Taro added.
Yuno smiled. "How could I?"
They reached the shore.
The sea stretched endlessly before them, calm… almost too calm.
Lines were cast. Focus settled.
And then—
Something drifted onto the sand.
At first, no one noticed.
Then one of them did.
"…Hey."
The group gathered slowly.
A body.
Taro stepped closer, squinting.
"…Isn't that… Touka?"
A grin spread across his face.
Yuno leaned in, recognition flickering—followed immediately by amusement.
"Yeah," he said, laughing under his breath. "It's that bastard. Looks like the ocean finally spat him back out."
Laughter broke out among them.
Taro crouched down. "We should toss him back before he starts stinking up the place."
He reached down, inspecting the body.
"…Huh."
His expression shifted.
"No blood… no wounds…" he muttered. "Did he bleed out already? That doesn't make any—"
His hand froze.
A beat.
"…A pulse?"
His eyes widened.
"No… that's not possible. He should be—"
The thought never finished.
Touka's eyes snapped open.
A blur of motion.
Steel flashed.
Taro's voice caught in his throat as a dagger pierced clean through his neck.
Narrator:
In this world, power is both simple… and absolute.
At its foundation lies a force known as Drive.
The most primitive form—
Cell Drive.
A state where the body moves not by thought, but by instinct. By the will of every living cell screaming to survive.
It is raw. Uncontrolled. Unconscious.
Panic erupted.
"RUN!"
But fear came too late.
Narrator:
All living things possess a Drive.
A reason to act. To grow. To protect.
A baby cries from hunger.
A tree stretches toward the sun.
A lion defends its territory.
All are driven by the same truth—
Adapt… or die.
The most basic Drive…
And the most powerful.
Cell Drive: Survival.
Touka moved.
Not like a human—
—but like something sharpened by death itself.
Another contestant fell in an instant.
"Burn him!" someone shouted desperately.
Flames roared to life—a manifestation of Will Drive.
Touka slipped past them effortlessly.
A step.
A twist.
The dagger sank into an arm—once, twice—
A snap.
A scream tore through the air as bone dislocated.
The body hit the ground.
Touka didn't stop.
One by one… they fell.
No matter their power. No matter their desperation.
He adapted.
He overcame.
He killed.
Yuno ran.
Blood streamed from his body, leaving a trail behind him.
Behind him—
Touka followed.
Silent.
Unhurried.
Relentless.
His face… empty.
A void wearing human skin.
"Fuck… fuck… fuck…!" Yuno gasped, stumbling forward.
"How is he alive…?!"
His vision blurred.
Pain consumed him.
"I have to warn them… I have to—"
Back in the village—
The Village Head frowned slightly.
"…What was that?"
He looked toward the shore.
"Where are the boys…?"
He began to move.
Then—
"YUNO!"
The boy stumbled into view, barely standing, drenched in blood.
"He's coming…" Yuno gasped, choking on each breath. "That bastard… he's still alive—"
His voice broke into a scream.
"TOUKA!!!"
The Village Head stepped forward.
"Yuno—"
One step.
That was all it took.
Yuno's head fell.
His body followed.
Silence consumed the village.
"Y… Yuno…?"
The Village Head's voice trembled—just barely.
From the shadows—
Touka emerged.
Blood covered him like a second skin.
The air itself seemed to bend around him.
He said nothing.
Did nothing—
Except raise his dagger…
…and point it at the Village Head.
A challenge.
Clear.
Absolute.
Come.
The Village Head's face hardened.
"…The others?"
Silence.
Touka did not answer.
"I see."
A breath.
Then—
From every direction—
"Cell Drive!"