The night air in the Okutama Mountains was heavy. It felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for a glass plate to shatter. Ren Hanshin walked away from the shrine, his boots crushing the frost covered grass. Every step felt like he was pulling a chain behind him, his right arm, the one he had used to stabilize the sapphire core for Haru, hung uselessly at his side. The skin was a charred, obsidian black, and the nerves were silent. He cared about the flickering red numbers in the corner of his vision.
[Divine Mana: 2 / 150]
[Synchronization: 49.98%]
He was a walking bomb. One spark of anger, one impulsive swing of his scythe, and Ren Hanshin would disappear. In his place would be a Sovereign of Fate, a beautiful, hollow monster with his face. Ren stopped at the trailhead where the mountain path met the old, cracked asphalt of the road. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the object that had been burning a hole in his tattered trousers.
