CHAPTER 4: BLOOD, RAIN AND DREAM

Whenever I close my eyes, I see a strange dream—of myself in a tank, alongside other Homunculi.

What’s odd is, for soulless beings like me, are these truly dreams—or mere fleeting memories of a newborn?

I’m terrified, not daring to share this with anyone, not even Iris and Joshua, my siblings, for our own safety. In that dream, a man with black hair and golden eyes, cloaked in a robe embroidered with a Phoenix—the emblem borne only by the Chosen, the East’s mightiest mages—reaches into the tank. He pulls my forming body upward, placing an object resembling a stone, half white and half red, inside me. The stone burns hot, making the tank’s fluid bubble, then turns ice-cold. He gazes at me for a long moment, murmurs, “My masterpiece…” then hurries off as the sound of rushing footsteps approaches.

Today, I saw that dream again, amid a shattered, chaotic battlefield, facing an opponent I deemed worthy of the Reaper’s recognition.

The clash of metal yanked me from the dream. A blood-red arm pierced through my chest. It wasn’t the first time my core had been destroyed, but each time, it healed itself, and I fought on. I seized that blood-colored arm, molten metal dripping under immense heat. The Android in the armor struggled to break free, but I manipulated the earth to clamp tightly around her legs. She sacrificed her right arm and both legs to retreat—a choice I couldn’t judge as brave or reckless. Then I realized what she’d been doing all along: stalling me to pave the way for that black machine.

An annoying Android, but a worthy foe.

“Aren’t you that scrap heap over there?” I asked. “Correct,” replied the white-haired Android within the black machine. “In my original body, I’d have a 25% chance of victory. With this, it’s over 80%.”

“Absurd. You think my power can be measured?” I retorted, hurling twin lightning bolts straight at the enemy.

Yet, it stood unscathed by my sudden attack.

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The black machine roared and lunged forward, a frigid blade springing from its arm, aimed at my head. I raised an ice wall—the sound of shattering echoed as the sword struck. Before I could counter, a piercing screech rang out. Its other arm morphed into a cannon, firing a beam of light that nearly swallowed me whole. In an instant, my consciousness faded. When it returned, my lower body and left arm were gone. Gritting my teeth, I mustered my remaining strength, shrinking into a snake and slithering into the rubble, fleeing toward the forest to hide.

Twice in one day, I’d been utterly defeated.

A sudden rain poured down, heavy drops stinging my broken, numb body. The hum of that black coffin echoed from afar. With all my strength, I dragged myself into a tree hollow. My eyelids grew heavy, the world sinking into darkness as old memories flooded back with the falling rain.

That day, too, had a downpour like this.

“Sis, why are we gathered here?” Iris asked me. “I don’t know,” I shook my head. Joshua, usually so carefree, watched in silence. Security was tighter than ever—a public trial was about to begin in the square, judging criminals accused of stealing the Philosopher’s Stone, the magical artifact with infinite power locked within.

“Lies! All lies! The truth—” A woman in prisoner garb was silenced by burly guards before she could finish. She screamed in desperation, helpless as her hands were bound by special cuffs that blocked the flow of mana. Among them, I recognized a face from my tank dream—the man with black hair and golden eyes. Prison had worn him thin, but his resolute gaze still burned brightly.

I suddenly realized this was the execution of the Chosen.

The Philosopher’s Stone was inside me.

No one knew this secret. Some suspected, but most dismissed me as merely a marvel of magic.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the dark sky, foreshadowing the fate of those Chosen.

“EXECUTION!!”

Thunder rumbled through the forest, jolting me awake, leaving me wondering how long I’d been asleep. My body had fully healed. A familiar voice sounded in my mind:

“Kira, return to your post immediately. The cave’s currently blocked by a giant machine. The Illusionists have used cloaking spells to hide our forces, but with our current numbers, they can’t breach it. The main force is still holding off most of the Androids, but I fear it won’t last long.”

“Understood.”

“Our fate rests on you. Hurry!”

I took a deep breath, summoning my remaining courage. The weight of thousands of lives pressed down on me. I asked myself: Would I be their Guardian Angel—or the Reaper to lead them out of this blood-soaked hell?