Hidden behind the rusted air-conditioning unit, the four of them remained perfectly still as the Nightmare continued its feast only a few meters away. Acid rain hissed softly against metal, mixing with the scent of decay that seemed permanently embedded into Mirekun City's bones. The air itself felt heavy, saturated with blood, death, and something far worse—familiarity.
Because for this creature, none of this was unusual.
This was dinner.
The Nightmare tore into the remains of its prey with frightening efficiency. Powerful claws reduced flesh and bone to little more than obstacles, and every movement carried a terrifying purpose. There was no cruelty in its actions.
Only instinct.
Only hunger.
The sound was somehow worse than the sight.
The wet tearing of flesh.
The crack of bone under impossible strength.
The low growls vibrating from deep within the creature's chest as it fed beneath the ruined skyline.
Shiori's body had gone completely rigid.
Her hand remained clamped tightly over her mouth as she fought to steady her breathing. Tears stung the corners of her eyes—not from emotion, but from the overwhelming assault on her senses. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to look away, to escape.
Yet she couldn't.
Because every horrifying second answered questions she had never truly understood.
This was what Leon had endured.
Night after night.
Year after year.
Alone.
Her grip tightened around the machete.
Not from fear of the monster.
From grief for the man who had survived among them.
Beside her, Airi trembled violently. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but it didn't help. The sounds alone painted images her mind refused to ignore. She pressed a sleeve against her face, struggling to remain silent as panic threatened to overwhelm her.
"This place isn't real..." she thought desperately. "It can't be real..."
But it was.
Terribly real.
Daichi remained crouched nearby, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned pale beneath the rain. His breathing was controlled through sheer force of will, but the confidence he carried in their world had long since been stripped away.
Strength meant little here.
Against a creature like this—
One mistake was enough.
His jaw tightened.
Leon had hunted these things.
Alone.
The thought no longer sounded heroic.
It sounded impossible.
Haruto's analytical calm was holding by threads. Even now, his eyes tracked the Nightmare's movements, studying patterns, behavior, and instincts as if understanding them might somehow make this place less terrifying.
It didn't.
If anything, it made it worse.
"The feeding is efficient," he whispered quietly, almost to himself. "No wasted movement. Apex predator behavior."
His voice remained calm.
But his hand trembled.
For the first time since arriving in Mirekun City, even Haruto's composure had begun to crack.
Then—
The Nightmare stopped moving.
Every muscle in its body became still.
Its head slowly lifted.
The pale eyes turned.
Toward them.
The world froze.
Shiori stopped breathing.
Airi's body locked in place.
Daichi lowered his center of gravity instinctively.
Haruto slowly reached toward the biomarker clipped at his belt.
The Nightmare sniffed the air.
Once.
Twice.
Its blood-stained muzzle twitched slightly.
Time stretched into eternity.
Five seconds.
Ten.
An entire lifetime.
No one blinked.
No one moved.
Even the rain seemed quieter.
Then, with a low growl, the creature turned away.
Its body coiled.
And in a single impossible leap, it vanished into the darkness of the next rooftop.
Gone.
The tension shattered instantly.
Airi collapsed first, breathing hard as tears mixed with rainwater. Daichi sat heavily against the AC unit, staring silently at the empty rooftop. Even Haruto lowered his head for a brief moment, gathering himself before standing again.
Shiori remained still.
Her eyes remained fixed on the place where the Nightmare had disappeared.
Fear still lingered in her chest.
It would always linger now.
But beneath it—
Something stronger had taken root.
Understanding.
She finally understood why Leon's smiles were so rare.
Why his eyes always carried exhaustion.
Why he had begged them never to come here.
Her hand rested against the worn handle of his machete.
Rain dripped quietly from the blade.
And beneath the ruined sky of Mirekun City, Shiori Aizawa whispered words meant for someone far away.
"Leon-kun..."
Her voice trembled.
Not with fear.
With resolve.
"We're coming."
No matter how terrifying this world became.
No matter what waited in the darkness.
They would not abandon him.
Not now.
Not after finally understanding the hell he carried alone.
The acid rain continued to fall over Mirekun City, hissing softly against rusted metal and broken concrete. Hidden behind the corroded air-conditioning units, the four of them remained crouched low, barely daring to breathe. Their ears still rang from the Nightmare's scream. Blood stained their fingers. Their nerves were frayed to the point where even the sound of rain felt threatening.
Then movement caught Shiori's eye.
Far across the rooftops, a lone survivor sprinted through the darkness.
He moved desperately rather than skillfully, leaping between buildings with uneven footing and frantic breaths. A worn backpack bounced against his shoulders as he ran, occasionally glancing behind him as if chased by invisible ghosts. For a fleeting moment, Shiori's heart stirred with hope.
Another human.
Another survivor.
Proof that people still lived in this hell.
That hope lasted less than a second.
A distant Nightmare froze mid-step.
Its head turned sharply.
Locked onto him.
The creature's body went still.
Then it opened its jaws.
The howl that erupted shattered the night.
It wasn't simply loud—it was wrong. The sound pierced through flesh and bone alike, vibrating deep within their skulls. Nearby windows exploded into showers of glass while echoes rolled across the ruined skyline like thunder announcing the end of the world.
Shiori immediately clamped her hands over her ears.
Pain shot through her head.
Warm blood trickled between her fingers.
Beside her, Airi let out a muffled cry and curled into herself, trembling violently as panic overtook her. Even Daichi's face had gone pale, his usual confidence stripped away by the sheer terror of what they were witnessing.
Then the city answered.
One howl became three.
Three became ten.
Ten became countless.
Across Mirekun City, voices rose in response.
Nightmares.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Their calls echoed from every direction, passing through the darkness like a language of predators. Rooftops that had seemed empty moments earlier suddenly came alive with movement. Pale figures leapt between buildings with terrifying speed, converging toward a single target.
The survivor.
Shiori's breath caught.
This wasn't random hunting.
It was coordinated.
Organized.
A pack.
Her grip tightened around Leon's machete.
"Leon-kun faced this every night..."
The realization settled heavily in her chest.
Not once.
Not occasionally.
Every night.
Alone.
Far below, the survivor panicked.
He drew a pistol.
Muzzle flashes cut through the rain.
One shot.
Two.
Three.
Tiny bursts of defiance against an entire city of nightmares.
It changed nothing.
The first Nightmare reached him in seconds.
Its silhouette collided with his like a wolf striking prey. More shapes followed immediately after, descending from rooftops with impossible speed until the man's figure disappeared beneath the overwhelming tide.
His scream echoed briefly through the storm.
Then abruptly stopped.
The city returned to its terrible rhythm.
The hunt was over.
Airi had tears streaming down her face now. Her body shook uncontrollably as she tried to steady her breathing.
"This place..." she whispered weakly. "How did he survive this?"
Daichi stared silently at the distant rooftops, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"This isn't living."
His voice was low.
"It's surviving against the impossible."
Haruto glanced down at the biomarker in his hand. The display flickered uncertainly before shifting toward yellow for a brief moment. His expression darkened immediately.
"The hunt affects nearby areas," he said quietly. "We're downwind."
The implications were terrifying.
If even one Nightmare caught their scent—
It would end before they could react.
Shiori slowly rose from her crouch.
Her legs trembled.
Her hands still shook.
But her resolve remained.
Now she truly understood.
The exhaustion in Leon's eyes.
The caution in his voice.
The loneliness he carried.
This world had shaped him into a survivor because anything less would have died long ago.
Her grip tightened around the machete.
Rain slid down the blade like tears.
"This is why he told us to stay away."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Then she looked toward the endless darkness stretching across Mirekun City.
Toward wherever Leon Mercer still fought alone.
Her eyes hardened.
"But we're here now."
No one argued.
Keeping low beneath the ruined sky, the four of them moved across the rooftops once more—terrified, exhausted, and painfully aware that every step deeper into this world brought them closer to understanding the true weight Leon had carried alone for years.
Acid rain drummed steadily against rusted metal as Shiori and the others remained hidden behind the battered air-conditioning units, their bodies pressed low against cold concrete. No one spoke. After witnessing the Nightmares feed only minutes earlier, even breathing felt dangerous. The city seemed alive in ways no ruined place should be—always listening, always waiting.
Then movement cut through the darkness.
Far ahead, a lone survivor sprinted across the rooftops.
Unlike ordinary people, this man moved with experience born from desperation. He vaulted over obstacles with practiced ease, rolled across gaps without hesitation, and launched himself between buildings as though years of survival had carved parkour into his instincts. His breathing was ragged even from a distance. Exhaustion clung to every movement.
He had done this before.
Many times.
Yet tonight—
It wasn't enough.
Behind him came the Nightmares.
Dozens.
No—
Far more.
Pale figures burst across rooftops with terrifying speed, their movements so unnatural that Shiori's mind struggled to process them. They didn't simply run. They launched themselves forward with explosive bursts of strength, crossing rooftops in moments, claws digging into concrete to propel them even faster. Their speed exceeded anything human bodies were meant to achieve.
The distance between hunter and prey vanished with horrifying efficiency.
The survivor vaulted a gap between two buildings.
One of the Nightmares crossed it effortlessly.
Another landed ahead of him.
Cutting off escape.
The man's pistol barked repeatedly through the storm.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the darkness.
One shot.
Two.
More.
The sound echoed across the city.
A desperate act.
Not because firearms were useless—
But because numbers made courage meaningless.
The Nightmares never slowed.
The survivor kept moving.
Still fighting.
Still running.
Still refusing to surrender.
Shiori's chest tightened painfully.
This was Leon's world.
A place where determination alone could not guarantee survival.
A final rooftop appeared.
The survivor landed hard.
Stopped.
Cornered.
The pack closed in from every direction.
For one terrible moment, he stood there beneath the acid rain, surrounded by impossible odds.
Then the Nightmares descended.
The distant scream that followed cut through the night.
Brief.
Human.
Gone far too quickly.
Silence returned.
Not because the danger had passed.
Because it had finished.
Airi had buried her face in her knees, tears slipping freely down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook as she tried to make herself smaller, quieter—as though shrinking enough might hide her from this world.
"They're too fast..." she whispered weakly. "How does anyone survive this?"
Daichi stared into the darkness with hollow eyes.
His fists had loosened.
Not from surrender.
From realization.
Strength.
Training.
Confidence.
They meant so little here.
Against predators like these, human effort felt fragile.
"Even professionals couldn't escape that," he said quietly. "No wonder he always looked tired."
Haruto remained still, but even his analytical calm had begun to crack beneath the weight of reality. He watched the rooftops carefully, tracking movement patterns, distances, and response times.
Every calculation led to the same conclusion.
The odds were impossible.
His eyes lowered toward the biomarker in his hand.
Yellow.
Briefly.
Then green again.
His expression darkened.
"The environment itself is pushing survival limits beyond normal human capacity," he said softly. "Leon adapted because he had to."
The words hung heavily in the rain.
Adapted.
Not because he wanted to.
Because failure meant death.
Shiori looked down at the machete resting in her hands.
The same weapon Leon had carried across ruined rooftops.
The same weapon he had used to protect strangers.
To protect them.
Her grip tightened.
Her eyes stung—not from rain, but from understanding.
Every scar on his body.
Every cautious glance.
Every moment of distance.
All of it made sense now.
This city had not merely hurt him.
It had reshaped him.
And somehow—
Despite everything—
He had still chosen kindness.
The realization hurt more than fear ever could.
Shiori slowly rose to her feet.
Her legs trembled.
But her resolve did not.
Somewhere in this endless nightmare, Leon Mercer was still fighting.
Still surviving.
Still carrying burdens no one should bear alone.
She looked into the darkness of Mirekun City.
Toward the place where their worlds had collided.
And beneath the rain, with quiet certainty stronger than fear, she whispered:
"Hold on, Leon-kun."
Then the four of them moved once more across the rooftops of hell, following the fading signal of a man who had spent far too long surviving alone.
The survivor never had a chance.
Hidden behind the ruined rooftop ledge, Shiori and the others watched with growing horror as the lone man reached the end of his escape. Rain lashed against concrete and rusted metal while distant lightning briefly illuminated the shattered skyline of Mirekun City. The survivor's movements had become sluggish now. His breathing was ragged. His body had reached its limit long before the hunt had ended.
The Nightmares had not.
The pack spread across the rooftops like living shadows, pale figures moving with impossible speed and coordination. They weren't merely chasing.
They were herding.
Driving prey toward exhaustion.
Toward inevitability.
The survivor reached the edge of a rooftop and turned desperately. His pistol clicked empty. No ammunition remained. Behind him stretched a deadly drop into streets filled with wandering Shades. Ahead—
Only hunters.
For a heartbeat, the world fell silent.
Then something moved.
Fast.
Far too fast.
A larger Nightmare burst from above, descending like a predator striking from the darkness itself. The attack happened so quickly that Shiori barely processed it. One moment the survivor was alive.
The next—
He wasn't.
His body was thrown aside by the sheer force of the impact, falling lifelessly into the darkness below before striking the street with a distant sound swallowed by rain and wind.
No struggle.
No second chance.
Only finality.
Shiori's breath caught in her throat.
One attack.
That was all.
Everything Leon had told them about this world suddenly became terrifyingly real.
Humans here didn't always lose because they lacked courage.
Sometimes—
The gap between predator and prey was simply too great.
The Nightmares gathered below.
More and more emerged from the darkness, answering the earlier calls that still echoed across the city. Their howls rose into the night, not as random cries, but as communication. Coordination. A language of hunters that humanity had long since lost the ability to answer.
The pack swarmed the site.
Rain obscured the details.
Distance spared them from seeing everything.
But even from afar, the meaning was unmistakable.
The hunt had ended.
The city had claimed another life.
Airi broke first.
She curled into herself behind the air-conditioning unit, trembling uncontrollably as tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Her voice emerged in broken whispers.
"This world..."
She couldn't finish.
There were no words left.
Daichi stared into the distance, fists hanging limply at his sides. For the first time since entering Mirekun City, his strength felt meaningless.
One strike.
One mistake.
That was all this world required.
His jaw tightened.
"Leon survived this alone?"
The question wasn't disbelief anymore.
It was awe.
Haruto remained silent longer than usual. The biomarker in his hand flickered uncertainly, briefly shifting toward yellow before returning to green. Even now, his mind searched for logic, for patterns, for something that made this world survivable.
The conclusions remained unchanged.
The odds were impossible.
And yet—
Leon had endured.
Years.
Not days.
Not weeks.
Years.
Shiori lowered her gaze to the machete resting in her hands. Rain slid across the worn blade, carrying away droplets of water that looked almost like tears. Her chest ached—not from fear, but from understanding.
This city had forged Leon Mercer through suffering.
It had taught him caution through loss.
Strength through pain.
And loneliness through survival.
Yet despite everything—
He had still chosen to protect others.
Her grip tightened.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to steady herself.
She slowly rose to her feet.
Her body trembled.
Her heart trembled.
But her resolve remained.
She looked out over the endless ruins of Mirekun City—the city that had created the man they loved, feared for, and refused to abandon.
Her voice was barely louder than the rain.
"This hell made our Leon."
The words carried neither anger nor blame.
Only truth.
Her eyes hardened with quiet determination.
"We'll reach him."
Not because they were stronger.
Not because they were prepared.
But because some promises were worth crossing worlds for.
Behind her, the others slowly stood.
Scarred.
Terrified.
Changed.
Together, they left the rooftop behind, carrying with them a deeper understanding of the burden Leon Mercer had carried alone beneath these same skies for far too long.