The street had become an apocalypse of old men.

Kaeya landed lightly on the stone pavement, boots scraping as she twisted her body mid-step. Her sword flashed once, a clean arc of steel cutting through the air. The blade passed through an old man’s neck—

And instead of blood, the body collapsed into yellowish smoke.

The powder scattered like ash caught in a foul wind, drifting upward as the old man’s face twisted into a smile that did not belong on any human expression. The grin lingered for a heartbeat longer than it should have, suspended in the air, before dissolving completely.

Kaeya recoiled half a step.

"...What is this?" she whispered.

Her grip tightened around the sword.

She was not unfamiliar with monsters, illusions, or demonic tricks. She had fought specters, cursed corpses, even beings that mimicked humans. But this— this was wrong in a way she couldn’t immediately name.

"A demon?" she muttered, eyes darting across the street.

Just hours ago, she had been walking through Leafrest Town with a single goal: to find Richard. To confirm with her own eyes whether the man she saw earlier was truly him, or just someone wearing his face.

Then the old man had approached her.

"The mortal disaster is coming."

At first, she had ignored him. Lunatics were common in towns like this. But then another appeared. And another.

Now—

They were everywhere.

Dozens of identical old men stood in the street, filling every gap between buildings, emerging from alleys, leaning out of doorways. Same ragged clothes. Same sunken eyes. Same voice, echoing again and again.

"The mortal disaster is coming."

Kaeya exhaled sharply and moved.

She spun forward, blade dancing as she weaved between them. Each slash dispersed another body into yellow smoke. The air grew thick with it, clogging her nose, stinging her eyes. It smelled faintly sweet and rotten at the same time.

She leapt backward and raised her free hand.

Light flared.

Multiple swords formed in midair— constructs of pure radiance shaped by her will. They hovered for a split second, humming softly, before launching outward in all directions.

The street erupted in flashes of light.

Old men were pierced through the chest, the skull, the spine. Their bodies burst apart into drifting powder, filling the space with swirling yellow clouds.

Yet no matter how many she destroyed—

More stepped forward.

They did not attack.

They did not flee.

They only spoke.

"When soldiers come, block them with soldiers."

Kaeya froze mid-step.

"When water comes, cover it with earth."

Her eyes narrowed.

"But when calamity comes," the voices continued, overlapping, layering atop one another, "all you can do is resist."

She landed heavily on one knee, breath coming faster now.

"But you won’t be able to do it alone."

The words sank deeper than the blade ever could.

Kaeya looked around slowly.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Others... she thought. Are there others trapped like me?

Her mind raced.

Resist, but not alone...

Her gaze hardened.

"...Huh," she murmured. "So that’s what you’re trying to say."

Another old man stepped directly in front of her, close enough that she could see the cracks in his lips, the unnatural stillness of his eyes.

"The mortal disaster— "

Kaeya moved.

She didn’t swing her sword.

She jumped.

Her boot slammed into the old man’s face, crushing it inward. The body collapsed instantly into smoke, the words choking off mid-syllable.

"— uff."

She landed on another face, using it as a stepping stone.

"Disaster— uff."

Again and again, she leapt forward, stepping on faces, shoulders, heads— each body bursting apart beneath her weight like rotten fruit.

She stopped listening.

She stopped fighting.

She ran.

The yellow smoke swirled around her, whispering, repeating, following— but Kaeya didn’t look back.

"If I can’t do it alone..." Her jaw tightened.

Then I’ll find the others.

And somewhere behind her, the street continued to preach the end of the world— long after she was gone.

---

Kaeya leapt onto the rooftop in a single fluid motion, boots scraping against damp tiles as she landed in a crouch. The fog clung low to the buildings, curling around chimneys and broken eaves like grasping fingers. For a brief moment, the town seemed quiet from above—too quiet.

Then—

A hand tapped her shoulder.

Her body reacted before her mind could.

Kaeya spun, sword flashing upward in a sharp arc meant to sever flesh and bone in one clean strike. The blade stopped less than a finger’s width from the person’s neck.

Her breath caught.

"Richard!" she shouted, eyes wide.

The man in front of her didn’t flinch.

"No," he said calmly. "I’m just Tyler. Not Richard."

Kaeya froze, her arm trembling slightly before she lowered the sword.

"...Alright," she muttered, cheeks puffing slightly as she turned her head away. "Tyler it is."

The wind howled softly between rooftops, carrying with it faint echoes from the streets below.

"The mortal disaster is coming..."

Tyler glanced over the edge of the building. From above, the scene was worse. Old men filled the streets shoulder to shoulder, their mouths moving in perfect unison. They didn’t look up. They didn’t move randomly. They simply existed, repeating the same words endlessly, like a broken prayer.

"Do you know what’s happening in this town?" Tyler asked quietly.

Kaeya followed his gaze.

"Must be a demon," she said after a moment.

"A demon?" Tyler frowned. "The one that tried to attack me before?"

She shook her head.

"I don’t think so. That one felt... hungry. Predatory." Her eyes narrowed. "This is different. Whatever is doing this has a completely different skill."

She watched as an old man below walked directly into a wall, stopped, turned, and began preaching to the bricks as if nothing were wrong.

"I don’t think they’re physically harmful," Kaeya added slowly. "So killing them might not be necessary—"

Her words cut off.

Tyler was already holding an old man by the neck.

The figure had somehow climbed up onto the roof without making a sound. Its feet dangled uselessly as Tyler lifted it with one hand. The old man’s face remained calm, lips still moving.

"The mortal disaster is coming..."

"These things," Tyler said flatly, tightening his grip just enough to make the neck creak, "are harming me mentally."

Kaeya stared.

"I tried to leave the town," Tyler continued. "No matter which street I took, I couldn’t get past a certain point."

The old man dissolved into yellow powder, slipping through Tyler’s fingers like smoke.

"...Why can’t you leave the town?" she asked quietly.

Tyler didn’t answer.

Instead, he nodded toward the far side of the roof. "Follow me."

They moved together, hopping from rooftop to rooftop, deliberately avoiding the streets below. Even from above, the chanting seeped upward, worming its way into the back of the mind.

Just as they dropped into a narrow alley, the air shifted.

Old men lunged from doorways and shadows, mouths opening wider than human jaws should as their voices rose.

"The mortal disaster is coming—"

Kaeya reacted instantly.

Light erupted around her, swords forming in midair before slicing downward in precise arcs. Bodies burst apart into yellow powder, coating the alley walls and ground like pollen.

Tyler grabbed her wrist. "Move."

They ran.

Behind them, the powder began to swirl, shapes already reforming.

They didn’t stop until the voices faded slightly, reduced to a distant murmur.

Kaeya leaned against a wall, breathing hard.

She glanced at Tyler, studying his face more carefully now.

"...Did you lose your memories or something?" she asked suddenly.

Tyler blinked. "Yeah. Something like that. Why do you came to that conclusion?"

She let out a small, humorless laugh.

"No wonder," she said. "Even after seeing my skill, you didn’t recognize me."

Tyler tilted his head. "Is your skill famous?"

"Something like that," Kaeya replied with a faint smile.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

"...How are we acquainted?" Tyler asked at last.

Kaeya hesitated, then shrugged lightly.

"You worked for me," she said.

---

They finally reached the western gate of the town.

It stood wide and silent, looming against the gray sky like a forgotten relic. No guards were stationed there. No torches burned along the walls. Even the usual sounds of the town —footsteps, chatter, carts— were absent, as if this part of Leafrest had been abandoned long ago.

Kaeya slowed her steps.

Near the wall, a single preaching old man stood with his forehead pressed against the stone, repeatedly slamming it against the surface with dull, hollow thuds.

Thump.

"The disaster..."

Thump.

"is coming..."

His voice was hoarse, almost worn out, yet he showed no sign of stopping.

Kaeya didn’t look at him for long. She walked straight to the gate.

It wasn’t locked.

That alone unsettled her more than if it had been sealed shut.

She reached out and grasped the iron bar, preparing to pull it open—

Then she stopped.

Kaeya turned her head slightly.

Tyler was still behind her, standing several paces away. He hadn’t followed her to the gate.

Her grip tightened.

For a brief moment, suspicion flickered across her expression, ’Why did he stop?’

But Tyler just motioned go head gesture.

She turned back toward the gate anyway and pulled.

The doors groaned as they opened inward.

And then—

A giant face of the preaching old man.

It was the same old man, same sunken eyes, same cracked lips, but magnified to a grotesque scale. His face blocked the whole gate.

His eyes rolled, locking onto Kaeya.

His mouth opened.

"THE MORTAL DISASTER IS COMING."

Kaeya was sent flying in an instant.