A path toward ruin.
A path toward greatness.
Tell me...
Do we truly possess the power to change our destiny?
I once believed the answer was no.
That every step we took...
Every choice we made...
Had already been written long before we ever drew our first breath.
Perhaps it was nothing more than a theory.
A belief awaiting proof.
That was...
Until I met him.
He was different.
A single strand of black in a world painted with countless colors.
An existence that refused to fit within the order of this world.
I...
Elias Vortigern,
The Proclaimed Son of God...
Confess this much.
Touka is not merely an anomaly.
He is...
---
The morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
"Hey, Devil."
A child's voice broke through the silence.
"What's with that expression? You look like you just saw Death."
"Come on. Leave him be."
"Let's go. Breakfast."
The children disappeared down the hallway, their laughter gradually fading into the distance.
Touka remained alone.
His eyes were hollow.
He had not slept all night.
Understandable.
Who could sleep peacefully after witnessing death more than a hundred times?
Touka slowly sat up.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the wooden door before him.
Then he stood.
His movements were slow.
Uneven.
His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He continued until the corridor opened into the garden.
Morning sunlight spilled across the grounds.
Several sisters were tending to the flowerbeds.
White lilies were being cut down.
Replaced.
Red roses took their place.
Touka stopped.
He said nothing.
He simply watched.
Then his gaze lowered.
The stone floor was spotless.
Not a single speck of dust.
Not a single trace of what had happened the night before.
No blood.
No bodies.
No evidence.
As though death itself had never existed there.
One of the sisters noticed him.
Her expression immediately twisted with disgust.
"Ugh."
She clicked her tongue.
"The trash is here."
Her companion glanced over.
"What a way to ruin my morning."
"Close the door."
The massive doors began to swing shut.
Touka remained where he stood.
But just before the doors closed completely, he saw it.
One final white lily.
Different from the others.
A tiny spot of red stained its petals.
Touka stared.
The doors closed.
The flower disappeared from view.
Then—
Bang.
The heavy door slammed into him.
Touka's head struck the wall behind him.
Blood trickled down his forehead.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Nothing.
No anger.
No pain.
Nothing.
He stood.
And continued walking.
---
The prayer room was ahead.
Touka entered.
His gaze immediately fell upon the crucified statue at the far end of the chamber.
Still.
Silent.
Unmoving.
He stared at it.
He did not know why.
He simply stared.
Blood dripped from his forehead.
One drop.
Then another.
Then—
Thud.
Something struck the back of his head.
Touka collapsed onto the floor.
He slowly turned.
A sister stood behind him.
A broom was clutched tightly in her hand.
Her face was twisted with disgust.
"Filth!"
She raised her voice.
"I just cleaned this place!"
She pointed toward the blood staining the floor.
"And now you've ruined it again."
Touka stared at her.
She stared back.
"Disgusting."
Her voice lowered.
"Why don't you do us all a favor and drop dead?"
She turned.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Touka remained on the floor.
For several seconds, he did not move.
Then he stood.
He continued walking.
His lips moved quietly.
"Drop dead..."
---
The dining hall was filled with noise.
Children laughed.
They ate.
They played.
They spoke amongst themselves.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Almost beautiful.
Touka entered.
The room slowly became quieter.
Several children glanced at him.
Others deliberately looked away.
His clothes were torn.
His body was bruised.
Blood stained his face.
He looked like something that had crawled out of a grave.
A sister serving food noticed him.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
Touka looked at her.
"Come here and eat."
She paused.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Trash."
Touka stepped inside.
Then—
Splash.
Hot food poured from the floor above.
It struck him directly.
Steam rose from his clothes.
The heat burned his skin.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then laughter erupted.
Children laughed.
Sisters laughed.
Countless eyes stared at him.
Mocking.
Disgusted.
Cruel.
Touka said nothing.
He walked toward the center of the dining hall.
Then he stepped onto one of the tables.
A child's laughter died.
"Hey, Devil."
A sister approached.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Touka remained silent.
"Get down."
She reached him.
Then—
Slap.
Her hand struck his face.
Touka's head turned slightly from the impact.
Silence.
The sister glared at him.
Then she noticed something.
A glint.
Metal.
Her eyes widened.
A blade flashed.
Blood sprayed across the floor.
The sister collapsed.
Touka looked down at her.
For the first time that morning—
he spoke.
"Drop dead."
His voice was quiet.
Almost emotionless.
Then his eyes rose toward the room.
"All of you."
Silence.
The children froze.
Then screams erupted.
One after another, Drives awakened.
The dining hall exploded into chaos.
---
Elsewhere...
In the private chambers of Mother Celestine, a sister carefully adjusted her garments.
"Mother Celestine."
"Hm?"
"There is a message from the Central Church in Tokyo."
Celestine did not respond.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
After a moment, she spoke.
"Tell me something."
"Yes, Mother?"
"What day is it?"
The sister blinked.
"The eleventh of March."
Celestine paused.
Then her expression softened.
"Oh."
A faint smile appeared.
"Today is Touka's birthday."
She looked toward the window.
"I wonder what I should give him."
Then—
A scream echoed through the church.
Celestine's expression changed.
She immediately turned toward the door.
"What was that?"
"I don't know."
Another scream.
Celestine moved.
"Come."
The sister followed.
They raced through the corridors.
As they approached the dining hall, the smell reached them first.
Blood.
Celestine entered.
And stopped.
Bodies covered the floor.
Nearly half of the children lay dead.
The survivors had gathered in a corner, huddled together and trembling.
And in the center of it all—
stood Touka.
His clothes were soaked in blood.
His face was expressionless.
Not happiness.
Not sadness.
Not rage.
Nothing.
Just coldness.
The sister beside Celestine covered her mouth.
Her body trembled.
Then she turned and vomited.
Celestine didn't move.
Her eyes remained fixed on Touka.
Something about him...
The way he stood.
The emptiness in his eyes.
The silence surrounding him.
It reminded her of someone.
Someone from a very long time ago.
Celestine finally looked away.
"Call the others."
The sister wiped her mouth.
"Mother..."
"Bring the bodies to the prayer room."
The sister nodded and hurried away.
Celestine approached Touka.
She said nothing.
She simply took his hand.
---
Later.
Touka sat silently in Celestine's private chambers.
She had washed the blood from his body.
Now he rested upon her bed.
Celestine stood before him.
"What have you done, Touka?"
Her voice was quiet.
"You've sealed your fate."
She closed the door.
Then left.
Her footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
She followed the trail of blood.
It led toward the prayer room.
When Celestine entered, she stopped.
The atmosphere was wrong.
This was a church.
Yet nothing about the room felt holy.
The sisters stood in rows.
Each held a cross.
A halo surrounded by six stars adorned its center.
At the heart of the chamber—
a pool of blood.
Celestine stepped into it.
The sisters lowered their heads.
Then she began to pray.
"Anima Christi, sanctifica me.
Corpus Christi, salva me.
Sanguis Christi, inebria me.
Aqua lateris Christi, lava me.
Passio Christi, conforta me.
O bone Iesu, exaudi me.
Intra tua vulnera absconde me.
Ne permittas me separari a te.
Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me venire ad te.
Ut cum Sanctis tuis laudem te.
In saecula saeculorum.
Amen."
Silence followed.
Then Celestine whispered:
"O Heavenly Father... grant this humble servant strength once more."
She raised her hands before her chest.
Her palms faced one another but never touched.
Her fingers were joined, pointing toward the heavens.
A small hollow remained between her hands.
Then—
"ALL DRIVE."
Golden light erupted.
The crimson floor vanished beneath it.
The entire chamber was illuminated.
The sisters bowed their heads.
Then something moved.
The crucified statue descended from its place.
Stone scraped against stone.
It landed upon the floor.
And walked.
Step.
Step.
Step.
It approached Celestine.
The sisters remained kneeling.
The statue stopped before her.
Then—
it extended its hand.
And smiled.
Not a warm smile.
Not a comforting smile.
Something colder.
Something that did not belong on the face of something divine.
Celestine lowered her head.
"Anima Christi."
The statue's hand touched her.
Light swallowed the room.
---
The echoes of the prayer seemed louder than usual as Celestine returned to her chambers.
She opened the door.
Touka was still lying upon her bed.
Asleep.
Or perhaps merely unconscious.
Celestine approached him.
Her expression softened.
"It has started."
She looked down at him.
"O young one..."
Her voice trembled.
"Your trial has begun."
She closed her eyes.
"How cruel fate is."
A tear fell.
"I apologize."
Her hands tightened.
"There is so little I can do."
She looked at Touka.
"No."
Her expression changed.
"I refuse to simply sit by."
Celestine reached for a knife.
She drew it across her finger.
A single drop of blood formed.
She placed it upon Touka's lips.
Then, with the blood, she drew a cross upon his neck.
"I gift you a fragment of my blessing."
A faint glow appeared beneath his skin.
"The power for a second chance."
The light intensified.
"Your Drive."
The mark disappeared.
Celestine smiled faintly.
"Happy birthday, Touka."
She turned toward the window.
Outside, the full moon illuminated the night.
She gazed at it.
No.
She admired it.
For a moment, the moon remained white.
Then—
slowly—
it began to change.
White became crimson.
Celestine's eyes widened.
Tears streamed down her face.
She turned toward Touka one final time.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"In everything you do..."
She paused.
"Never forget your name."
Her eyes trembled.
"Kurotsuki."