Ashel's body no longer obeyed her. Something ancient and merciless had slipped into her veins, steering her limbs as if she were a puppet made of flesh and fear.
Then, the world shifted.
Inside her mind stretched an endless horizon—neither dark nor bright, just a pale shimmer that went on forever. It felt like standing inside a dream that had forgotten its shape.
"Hey, little girl."
The voice came from behind her—light, playful, and unsettlingly sharp.
Ashel turned. A girl stood a few paces away, maybe twelve or fourteen, dressed in a delicate bridal gown that flowed softly around her thin frame. The silk shimmered faintly in the light, untouched and pristine. A sheer veil covered her face, hiding her expression completely, yet the way she stood—still and poised—made it feel like a quiet smile lingered beneath the fabric, waiting to be seen.
"Who are you?" Ashel demanded. "And I'm not a little girl."
"Yes, you are," the stranger said, grin widening. "I'm Tsukuko."
Ashel blinked, the name tugging at her memory. "Wait… I know you. You're the villain from Serenity Saint: Our Last Hope, right? The devil in a bride's dress?"
Tsukuko inclined her head, graceful as a ghost.
"Ooh… do I look like a villain to you?" Tsukuko let out a small laugh, light but a little too sharp. "You're kinda funny, you know that? But I guess… you're not wrong. I can be pretty evil."
Without warning, a table and bench materialized beside her, carved from black, glassy wood. The sound of their creation cracked through the air like breaking ice. Tsukuko sat as though she'd been there all along.
"We're two souls trapped in one vessel," she said calmly. "The body runs on automatic while we're here."
"Automatic?" Ashel frowned. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning your body keeps moving—whether you're driving or not. Sit down, child. It's rude to hover."
"I'm not a child!"
"I'm more than a century older than you could imagine." Tsukuko's voice sharpened, the air vibrating faintly around her.
Ashel hesitated. "What are you planning?"
"For now," Tsukuko said, her tone softening into something deceptively kind, "let's pretend we're friends."
Against her better judgment, Ashel sat. For a fleeting moment, the space between them felt still. Peaceful, even.
Then Tsukuko's eyes changed—suddenly, violently.
"You're far too naive."
The bench vanished.
Ashel fell.
Her scream tore through the endless light. "AAAHHH!"
Tsukuko leaned over the edge, veil fluttering. "Lesson one," she called sweetly, "never lower your guard." Then she folded her hands and smiled. "Let's see if you can crawl your way out."
Outside her mind, Ashel's body convulsed. Veins blackened beneath her skin. Horns split through her scalp. Her hair grew long and wild; her eyes burned a deep, unholy red.
She bolted through the village streets like a beast unleashed.
"A demon! A demon!" the villagers screamed as she lunged past them, her movements savage and inhuman.
Inside the void, Tsukuko's voice echoed faintly. "If you don't find a way out soon," she whispered, "your body might destroy everything around it."
"What!?" Ashel shouted, spinning in the empty dark. Images flickered around her like shards of shattered glass—her body rampaging, people running. "Oh no. This is so embarrassing!" She pressed her hands to her temples. "Okay, think, Ashel. Think! I'm inside my mind, so there has to be a way out!"
Above her, hidden behind her veil, Tsukuko smiled. "Interesting…"
"I swear I'll kill you," Ashel growled, her dark-brown eyes flashing with raw fury.
Tsukuko tilted her head. "Bite me if you can."
In an instant, she appeared before Ashel and struck. Her hands moved too fast to follow, cutting through the air like whips.
Ashel dodged barely in time. "Aahh!"
"Keep whining," Tsukuko said, her tone almost gleeful, "and I'll tear your soul apart."
"What kind of person does this!?" Ashel yelled, ducking another strike.
Tsukuko's laughter was low and cruel. "I'm far worse than human."
She kicked Ashel in the stomach. Pain exploded through her body.
Ashel fell to her knees, clutching her side. "Who—who beats up someone they just met?"
"You're too weak," Tsukuko said flatly, her veil shifting as she looked down. "Earlier, you called me a monster. Now look at you."
Her next blows came faster, sharper—each one deliberate, testing. Ashel could barely breathe.
"I'm only using one percent of my strength," Tsukuko said, voice rising with scorn. "Imagine what would happen if I used it all. Don't act like some helpless girl waiting for a prince. You're a grown woman, even in a child's body. Start fighting like one."
Blood dripped from Ashel's lip. Her knees trembled. But somewhere beneath the pain, anger began to burn hotter than fear.
Tsukuko turned away. "Pathetic."
"Why?" Ashel rasped. "Why attack me?"
Tsukuko turned her head slightly, the faintest smile curving her lips. "Because it's fun," she said softly. "Watching people break—it's the only thing that still feels alive."
Light gathered in her hand, twisting and stretching until it formed a sword far too big for her size—towering, heavy, and glowing with a pale, cold light. The air itself seemed to bend under its weight.
Ashel's eyes widened. "What… is that a sword? How can you even carry something bigger than you?"
Tsukuko tilted her head, her veil shifting with the motion. "Who said I'm carrying it?" she replied, her tone almost playful. The sword floated slightly, humming like it was alive.
Then she moved.
The blade came down fast—too fast—and Ashel barely threw herself aside. The edge sliced through the air, missing her by inches but cutting through strands of her hair, scattering them into the wind like black petals.
The ground beneath them twisted and reshaped into a broken, rotting bridge suspended over an endless black abyss. The air smelled of metal and rain.
Ashel stumbled backward, her boots skidding against the splintered boards. "What is this place!?"
Tsukuko stepped forward slowly, resting the blade against her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. "Are you ready?" she asked, voice calm and almost kind.
The bridge groaned under their weight. Ashel steadied herself, blood running down her chin. Tsukuko's smile sharpened. "Good," she murmured. "Let's see if the villain inside you can bleed like everyone else."
She swung again. The sword didn't break the ropes—but the wooden planks shattered under the strike, splitting clean in half. Ashel lost her footing and fell, her hands catching the rough rope just in time.
"Aahhh! Why are you doing this?! What did I ever do to you?!" Ashel cried, her voice echoing into the void.
Tsukuko looked down at her, veil fluttering slightly. "Because it's fun," she said simply, her tone calm and cold.
She lowered the enormous sword to the rope, its gleaming edge pressing against the fibers. Slowly, deliberately, she began to cut. The strands snapped one by one.
Ashel's arms trembled, her grip slipping. Tsukuko watched in silence, her head tilted like she was studying a painting. "You can beg if you want," she whispered. "It might make the fall feel longer."
Then the last threads gave way. The rope snapped with a sharp, final crack—and Ashel fell. The world spun in a blur of wind and shadow before she slammed into the cliff wall with a bone-jarring thud.
A cry tore from her throat as pain shot through her side. For a heartbeat, it felt like she'd slip into the darkness—but her hand caught another length of the bridge's dangling rope. It burned her palms as it slid through her grip, but she held on, gasping, her legs swinging over the abyss.
She groaned, every muscle screaming as she tried to steady herself. Blood trickled from a cut on her cheek, mixing with the sweat on her skin. The abyss below seemed to breathe, pulling at her with invisible hands.
Above, Tsukuko stepped to the edge of the broken bridge, veil fluttering in the rising wind. The pale glow of her massive sword shimmered down the rope, reaching Ashel's shaking form.
"If you fall," Tsukuko said, her tone quiet and smooth. She leaned forward, her voice sinking into a cruel whisper. "Your soul will burn as it falls—dragged through a place that never ends. Every scream, every thought, every memory will twist until you can't tell what you are anymore. You'll keep falling, forever awake, forever in pain… that's the kind of hell waiting below."
Ashel clenched her teeth, trying to pull herself up, her arms trembling violently.
Tsukuko's faint smile returned, calm and cruel. "So keep holding on, little villain," she said, lowering the blade until its light brushed the rope. "I want to see how long that will of yours can last."