Yamashita Hiro
Shinto - Fuyuki's Central Park
Night Phase
It's a sin.
Magecraft is not something that belongs to humans. It's an alien power a number of humans have claimed in exchange for part of what they once were. As such, the body will always reject that power. As such, the activation of one's Magic Circuits will always involve pain. For you, however, it might be much more dangerous than that.
If merely borrowing a small portion of its strength is enough to temporarily overwrite your personality, then allowing that power to run rampart would surely mean the destruction of the Magus known as Yamashita Hiro.
That's right, in your case, Magecraft is not just a simple taboo...
---It's suicide.
"Hero-san-! You mustn't-!"
It should be no surprise than a doctor would be able to identify a patient doing reckless things at the expense of their health. Caught in a princess carry, confused by the the situation as a whole and somewhat dazed after a forceful landing, Luna still manages to utter the most rational advise possible. Unfortunately, you have already decided to play the role your name has assigned you and save her even if doing so puts your life at risk. If you push yourself too far, you die. If the enemy catches up to you, you die. If the rules of the game all lead to the same outcome, then isn't it fortunate that you at least get to choose the way the story ends?
Your vision flashes red.
You lungs run out of breath. No... they've run out of breath moments ago.
Arms and legs cry in agony as you push yourself closer to the edge.
Your body cannot sustain this kind of pace under normal circumstances.
The goal is less than a hundred meters away. At the current pace, you might be able to cross that distance in under ten seconds. The enemy is on your tail, but the fact that it has not delivered any sort of attack probably means that your previous leap must have caught it by surprise. You might be giving it some trouble... If lucky, it might not even have any form of ranged attack available. If that is the case, it might not be merely wishful thinking to assume that you can escape this park alive.
---Suddenly, a splitting headache.
Or at the very least, that is the conclusion your oxygen-deprived brain arrives at, before reality quickly makes it come crumbling apart with facts.
The moment your eyes meet, your world is quickly immersed in darkness.
Only to be set ablaze immediately after.
T͍̪̣͖̖̘͙͓̳̤̀͂̏̕̕̕r̙̻̬̺̗͕̦͇̿̑͝͠͞u̡̨̗̮͚̭̭͊͊̔́͊͆͟͜͞͝e ̧͇̗̹̠͒̋̀̕̚ N̢̧̪̥͔̱̻͆̆̾͌͂͜ą̺̥͇̪̮̭̊̄̆͑̽̀̍m̷̨̛̗̱̯͕̀̓̊̾͌́̔̈́̕͜͢͟e ̴̧͍̥̭̗͓͛̊͊̄̇̕ͅ G̵̛̮͇͇͚͗͋͒̿̀̔̌͟͞ͅe̱͇̩̟͒̀̑̆̔̕͜͟͝͝ṅ̶̜̼͔͎̼͔̙͉̀̔̎̋̚͡d ̷̛͖̝̥̺͕̥̼̾̾͛̄͆̑͜͡e̺̟̜̬̜͈̭̜̙̍̎̏̔̆̇̐̕̚͝r̮͈͓̥̍̓̎̎̐͋̍͢ ̸̡͍̞͟ A̙̫̘͙̖͍͙̟̗̓̅͑̌̕͘l̶͖͉͍̹̗̹̇̋̅̽͐͡͞ỉ̛̝̞̻̲̆̈͗̽͘͢g̐͛́͛͡ ̶̥̖͔̺͉̺̬͢n̖̟̟̟̮̒͑͆̐̐͆͐͠m̸̧͇̞͔̥̠̲̝͕͑̉̽̉̏̌͋̒̑̕ͅe̓̑̄̿ ̶̡̡̗̻̘̲̹͍̗̭͡ṋ̷̛͙̲͉͙̎̇͗̾̐͟͢ͅt̷̤͔͕̲̳̘̏͋̓̂̐̂̚͢͠͝
A bunch of gibberish that you cannot truly understand.
A template for a text that a mere human cannot decipher.
A dosage of poison that should have never been prescribed to you.
h̨̘͍͍̦̹͙̖͐̂͗̓̀̐̉͞͠ḝ̷̧̛̰̯͈͛͐̎͢i̸̞̜̮̰͉͖̬̒͐̊̾͛͜g̓͗͠ ̫̻͔̤̲̺̭̊̓̓̚͜h̷̠͈͕͔͎̒͗̎́̐͂t̴̨̨̪̣͖̺̟̹̦̊͊͊̀̇̓̕ ẅ̢̮̪͔̻͉͍̽̆͌̾́̉̄̌̽͢ͅe̮̥̘͉͉̫͐̍͌̊͂̔̚̕͡i͕̹̲͓̣͛̂̄̕͠g͗͊ ̷̜̘̳͖̣̣͉̐̆̒h̴̨̪̺̖̗̭͉͓̑͑̈́̿͊̅̏̈̎t̨̝͉̲̤̞͌̒̎̍̎̋̀̐͝ ̷̠̰ ļ̸̢̺͓̼̫̱̠̑̓̂̍̈͑͜ͅi̵̡̛͖̪̻̟̺̝̺̬͍͋̃͛͋̀͂͡͝͝k̈̀͊̊̊̌̄̃́ ̷̡̧̹̬͟͟ͅȅ̸͖̰͚̠̩̬̠͇̪̟̍́̍͌͌͋ş̸̤̣̻̖͎͋̃͗͗̑́͢ n̦̻̟͖̮͋͒̀̄̃̀̐̚͜ā̭͔̣̣̙̻̟͈̍̈́̒͝t͇̟͎͙̣̩̱̉͛̍̑͒̇̒̈́͞ú̕͞ ̷̨̥͚̪̣̭̋̆͂̀̉̊̚r̛̛͉̜̪͔̤̫͔̙̎̀͆̀̑̍͜a̹̬̺͔̼͛̌͆̈́̕͢l̽̽̈́̋ ̶͉̜̬̤̮̥͔̦̳̩̇̾̂̃͘̚ e̻̗̹̞͚͖̙͕̐̈́͒̈́̊̒͛̓̅͡n̵̤͇̠̳͛̀͗̎̇̂̓̕͢͠e͔̜͉͓̊̔̽̒͗̃͑̀̚̚ ̷̧̫m̳̦̬̣̲̳͛̄̊̅̕ͅy̷̧̡̡̛͇̬̱̥͈͌̑̆̄̽́̈͟͜
Driven by confusion, a single thought manages to emerge from that polluted sea of information.
That thought is driven by confusion, by surprise, by curiosity.
Eyes...?
... Since
when did that thing have eyes?
Something digs deep into your leg.
A knife-like projectile, fired not with pin-point accuracy, but rather with charged hostility capable of bending the laws of fate itself.
Hiro Yamashita takes 10 HP damage.
Critical Hit! Impaired Movement.
Naturally, you immediately lose your balance and fall. In a desperate attempt, you give it your all to shield Luna, but the results are far from what's expected from a gentleman. You both crash against the ground with a big thud and are forced to taste scorched earth in your mouths.
Twenty meters short.
And the beast is already upon you.
Ten steps. It can probably cover that distance in a heartbeat.
It could have ended your life, it could have killed you at any time it wanted. The reason it did not attack earlier was not because it was being cautious, no... It was just taking its time, savoring the terror, it was playing with its prey. And it still is. That attack was not one to kill the target, that knife was not aimed at your vitals, it was meant to hinder your movement, to become another obstacle to be overcome in a situation that already seems helpless.
And the reason...? Hah...
Well, the truth is, there is no reason at all. The shadow did all of this on a whim.
It just detected people in the vicinity of its newfound territory, approached them and decided to kill them.
Not to exert authority over its domain, not to satisfy an urge of bathing itself in blood. Not because it enjoyed it nor out of sheer malice.
Simply because it could.
"..."
However, this is as far as it goes.
Though you were twenty meters short from leaving the park, you were lucky enough to escape its domain.
For it cannot abandon this forsaken mist, even if it wanted to.
Doing so would come at the expense of its own life.
So it simply stands there, and stares in absolute silence.
Meanwhile, You lay at the boundary between truth and mystery, between what is certain and what is unknown.
Between life... And death.
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Originally Posted by Bird of Hermes
