Step by step.
Chinatsu ascended the solidified spatial staircase, as if walking on an invisible divine path, slowly rising to the high sky, far from the mortal world.
The outline of Amamiya City spread beneath her feet, becoming small and distant, and the damaged school building shrunk into an insignificant dot.
She finally stopped, no longer ascending. Beneath her, spatial energy naturally converged and shaped itself into an invisible yet solid 'throne,' carved with spatial ripple patterns indiscernible to the naked eye.
She sat down gracefully, leaning back slightly, as if resting against an unseen support.
Her ice-waterfall-like white long hair, no longer restrained, flew freely in the turbulent high-altitude air currents, each strand seemingly entwined with tiny silver serpent lightning, resonating mysteriously with the surrounding space.
She casually crossed her legs; this seemingly simple action for an ordinary person carried an inherent, natural laziness and arrogance of one who controls everything.
Then, she slightly raised her chin, and her molten-gold eyes indifferently scanned her surroundings.
Centered around her, the AST members, like a startled swarm of bees, maintained a distance so cautious it was almost subservient.
They were fully armed, the lights of their Manifestation Devices flickering in the twilight sky, their weapons locked onto the seemingly defenseless figure in the center.
However, no one dared to take a step forward, no one dared to break the suffocating silence.
Chinatsu's gaze slowly swept over them.
There was no anger, no hatred, not even conventional contempt in her eyes.
It was a more complete disregard, a profound sense of disparity stemming from the very essence of life and power.
It was as if she saw not a group of well-trained warriors armed with advanced weaponry, but merely a group of 'ants' bustling beneath her feet, incapable of sparking the slightest interest in her.
The residual light of the sky was reflected in her golden pupils, yet they were devoid of any earthly warmth, cold as an ancient, unmelting ice field, reflecting no image.
This absolute calm was more oppressive than any roar or threat...
"Cap... Captain! What... what exactly should we do?"
In the communication channel, a young team member's voice trembled uncontrollably. Facing this silent pressure was far more nerve-wracking than confronting a hail of bullets.
Ryouko Kusakabe bit her lower lip tightly, feeling her throat dry.
As captain, she bore even greater pressure. She stared intently at the terrifyingly stable, high-intensity spiritual wave signal representing the Heavenly Judgment on the monitoring screen, clenching and unclenching her fist.
"Maintain current formation, keep maximum alert! Do not fire without my command! Repeat, absolutely not!"
She almost snarled the order, her voice hoarse from tension.
(Why hasn't the order from above come down yet?!)
Ryouko was extremely anxious. She knew very well that against an existence of this extraordinary caliber, their AST squad barely even qualified as cannon fodder.
Attack? That was no different from collective suicide. Protect the citizens? If this Spirit truly got angry, they wouldn't even be able to protect themselves!
(Damn bureaucrats! Do they still think this is a target that can be overwhelmed by sheer numbers?!)
She cursed inwardly. The scene of the industrial district's destruction was still vivid in her mind; that wasn't a battle, that was a natural disaster! It was a one-sided annihilation!
She had made up her mind.
If the order from above was something foolish like "attack at all costs" or "buy time," she would immediately disobey!
She would retreat with her subordinates! Even if it meant facing a court-martial afterward, it was better than dying here meaninglessly!
At least, only by living could she continue to protect this city, and possibly... truly do something in the future.
Now, all she could do was wait and pray—pray that the Spirit sitting on the void throne was in a decent mood and wouldn't be annoyed by their presence.
And so, a strange scene unfolded in the sky.
A white-haired Spirit Queen sat languidly on an invisible throne, looking down on all sides.
Dozens of fully armed human warriors cautiously encircled her from afar, daring not to cross the line.
The air was thick, and the wind carried a sense of dread.
All the commotion and fighting seemed to have been forcibly silenced by her alone at that moment.
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