The sound of her crying broke the silence of the road.
It wasn't a ghostly wail or a monstrous shriek. It was the raw, broken sobbing of a women who had lost everything.
I took a slow step forward, keeping my hands empty. Haroku stayed behind me, his expression caught between shock and pity.
"Who did they take from you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The woman didn't look up immediately. Her fingers dug into the cracked asphalt, trembling as she tried to pull the fragmented memories of her past life together.
"My son," she choked out, her voice fragile. "My little boy. Shun."
She slowly raised her head. Her face was no longer decaying or twisted. It was pale, exhausted, and deeply human.
"I was just a normal woman," she whispered, her eyes staring blankly into the dark. "Decades ago. We lived in a small town not far from here. But Shun... he got sick. It wasn't a normal fever. Doctors couldn't do anything. He was fading, day by day, and no medicine in the world could stop it."
Haroku lowered his gaze, the heavy reality of her words settling over us.
"I was desperate," she continued, tears cutting tracks down her pale cheeks. "I prayed to anything that would listen. And one night... someone answered."
My eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"A man," she said, her voice dropping, thick with dread. "He wore fine clothes, but his eyes... they were completely dead. He introduced himself as Natori. He told me he was one of the Eleven Hinomees."
Haroku shot me a sharp look. The Hinomees. Jason's inner circle.
"He offered me a deal," she cried, wrapping her arms around herself. "He said he had the power to cure Shun. He said all I had to do was give him my absolute obedience. I didn't care about the cost. I told him I would give him my life if it meant my son would live."
Her breathing grew ragged, the memory of the betrayal tearing her apart all over again.
"He smiled," she whispered. "He told me he accepted the terms. And then... he drove a blade straight through my heart."
I clenched my fists.
"He didn't save Shun," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "As I bled to death on the floor, I watched Natori pick up my crying boy. He told me he needed a pure vessel for his experiments in the Hills. He told me my soul belonged to him now."
The horrific truth of the spatial loop finally made sense.
"He trapped my soul," she said, her voice breaking into a hollow, defeated rasp. "He bound me to this stretch of road. He forced me to become a guard dog. For years, I've been trapped in this loop, forced to attack anyone who came near the Hills. My mind slowly rotted away. I forgot my own name. I forgot what I looked like."
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with absolute agony.
"But I never forgot Shun. I just wanted to find him. I just wanted my son back."
Complete silence fell over the road. There was nothing I could say that would fix a tragedy that deep. She had been used, murdered, and forced into slavery by one of Jason's elites.
Before I could speak, footsteps broke the quiet.
Makeno walked forward.
The ancient guardian didn't look down at the woman with the cold, lethal intent she had during the fight. Her glowing eyes had softened into something deeply empathetic.
Makeno knelt on the broken asphalt, placing herself at eye level with the weeping spirit.
"I am sorry," Makeno said softly.
The woman looked up, surprised by the gentle tone from the warrior who had just brutally beaten her.
"I am sorry for the violence I inflicted upon you," Makeno continued, her voice steady and respectful. "And I am deeply sorry for the cruelty you have endured."
Makeno reached out, gently placing her hand on the woman's trembling shoulder.
"You were forced into a monster's shape, bound against your will, and stripped of your humanity," Makeno said, looking directly into the mother's eyes. "But through decades of madness and corruption... your love for your son survived. It was the one thing Natori could not erase."
The woman let out a broken gasp, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks as someone finally acknowledged her pain.
"You are incredibly strong," Makeno told her. "But you have fought long enough. You do not have to guard this road anymore."
The woman looked at Makeno, her expression slowly shifting from agony to a quiet, desperate hope. "Can you... can you make it stop?"
"I can," Makeno promised. "I can sever the binding. I can set you free."
The woman closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering sigh. " Do you think Shun is alive ?"
Makeno didn't replied immediately then, "I can't say anything about it but I'm sure he also loved you more than anything."
"Free me from this slavery." The women closed her eyes and waited for makeno's action.
Makeno didn't hesitate, but her movements were entirely devoid of malice. She raised her free hand, gathering a soft, pure silver light in her palm. It wasn't the destructive energy from the battle; it was a warm, cleansing glow.
"Rest now," Makeno whispered.
Makeno gently pressed her glowing palm against the center of the woman's chest.
There was no explosion. No shrieking.
A brilliant, painless light washed over the spirit. The tattered clothes, the rotting form, and the heavy chains of dark energy instantly dissolved. For a brief second, the faint, glowing image of a beautiful, peaceful woman smiled back at us.
"Thank you," a whisper echoed in the air.
Then, she shattered into a thousand points of silver light, floating upward before vanishing into the night sky.
She was gone. Completely purified. Completely free.
Makeno slowly stood up, letting her hand drop to her side. The ancient guardian stared at the empty spot on the road for a long moment before turning back to us.
Haroku let out a heavy breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Natori," he muttered, the name dripping with disgust. "What kind of sick bastard does that to a mother?"
I didn't answer him right away. I looked down the road.
The spatial loop had completely collapsed. The oppressive darkness in the trees had lifted, and the asphalt stretched forward in a straight, unbroken line. The path to the Hinamoruka Hills was finally open.
I reached into my coat and adjusted the strap of my gear bag.
"A dead one," I said coldly.