The world is ending, but not all at once. It's unraveling at the seams—cracks in reality where past and future bleed through, warping everything they touch. Yoiyami Ren wakes in a city of rubble with nothing but his name and a burn scar on his palm. He remembers nothing. Not who he is, not what he's done, not why the people of this broken city flinch away when they see his face.
Then a woman named Hisame Setsuna finds him, carrying a cloth-wrapped staff and a proposition: become the world's las
Waiting for You at the Seam of the End - The seventh ash, the final fault
Wind swept across the ash wastes.
Yoiyami Ren walked alone through a land of rubble and cinders. With every step, ash crunched beneath his soles—a dry, grinding sound, the only thing that echoed through the vast silence.
The sky had been torn open for two days now.
A colossal fissure split the gray heavens overhead, punching through the clouds and running to the far edge of the world. Beyond the crack was neither black nor red. It was a color that didn't exist—looking at it sent a dull ache drilling into the core of his skull. Ren lowered his gaze.
*How much farther to the final fault?*
There was no answer.
His memory was full of holes. The road he should have walked, the scenery he should have passed—all of it lay somewhere beyond a fog. What had he done two days ago? Who had he burned? Who had he lost? Even the outlines of those answers were blurred.
But his body remembered.
The seam-staff gripped in his right hand. The charred cloth had peeled away, and the exposed surface of the staff was covered in countless fine notches. The feel of those ridges biting into his palm. The weight of it. That heat, when he raised it high.
*I burned again.*
Ren stopped walking.
Wind kicked up the ash. White powder swirled, blurring his vision. And in that haze, something drifted through his mind.
—His mother's face.
Ren closed his eyes.
It wasn't a memory. It was a hole where a memory should have been. Something that had once been there. The outline of a thing burned away. He couldn't remember his mother's face. Couldn't remember it—and yet the mere fact of not remembering drove a spike straight through his chest.
*Mom. What did your face look like?*
Ren opened his eyes.
The fissure in the sky seemed, just slightly, to have widened.
He started walking again.
The ash wastes stretched on without end. What had once been here, he no longer knew. With every re-burning, the world was repainted, overwritten, erased. Beneath the ground, layer upon layer of ash had accumulated—thick and heavy and sunken, one layer for every time the world had died.
—Seven times.
A number surfaced in Ren's mind.
Seven re-burnings.
*I've burned the world seven times.*
His feet stopped.
His knees shook. Standing suddenly became unbearable. Something rose from the pit of his stomach. At the back of his throat, he tasted ash.
*For what?*
*For whom?*
*Who did I erase?*
The answers were buried in the ash. Every time he tried to dig them up, they crumbled away from his fingertips. The harder he grasped, the more the ash slipped through the gaps between his fingers.
—Mina's hand.
Ren's right hand clenched around the staff.
A small hand, reaching out from beneath the rubble. A brown sleeve. Slender fingers. Dirty nails. The moment he grabbed it, it turned to ash. The shape of the fingers, the shape of the palm—crumbled. Warm ash remained in his hand.
—Kanata's back.
Inside the flames. A collapsing building. A back that shoved him aside and was swallowed by fire. Burn scars on the right arm. New burns layered over old ones.
Ren looked at his left hand.
An old burn scar on the palm. A distorted shape, as though he'd crushed something in his grip.
*What did I crush?*
He didn't know.
Not knowing hurt. Without even understanding the source of the pain, something deep in his chest throbbed, searing hot.
He walked.
There was nothing else to do but walk.
Beyond the ash wastes, something came into view.
A massive black silhouette.
The central ruin of a crumbling magical city. The wreckage of a broken tower, so tall it seemed it must once have reached the sky. And beyond it—
The fissure in the sky yawned deeper, darker, wider.
The final fault.
The largest rift, located at the heart of the Regret Circle. Over twenty meters wide, its depth unmeasurable. The surrounding buildings showed their construction and their collapse at the same time. Steel beams sprouted from walls that shouldn't exist. Stone paving cut off in midair. Time itself was broken here.
Ren stared at the sight.
*This is what I'm going to burn?*
*And that will hold the world together?*
There was no answer.
The wind blew.
Ash danced.
Behind Ren, footsteps sounded.
"—Hold it right there."
Ren didn't turn around.
The footsteps drew closer. Ragged breathing. A dragging gait. The sound of feet crushing ash, irregular and uneven.
"You were gonna go alone, weren't you."
The voice was hoarse. A throat burned by flames two days ago. A throat that had inhaled smoke, screamed, and kept screaming anyway. With that voice, Kanata hurled words at Ren's back.
Ren turned slowly.
Haihara Kanata stood there.
His short brown hair was caked with ash, his bedhead even worse than usual. His dark brown eyes were bloodshot. Soot clung to his face; his lips were cracked. From elbow to wrist, his right arm bore fresh burns layered over old scars. The skin was peeling, exposing red-black, festering flesh. His back too—his clothes had burned away, and a wide swath was scorched and raw.
And still, Kanata stood.
In one hand, he clutched something. Something small and metal. A chain dangled from it. His brother's keepsake, Ren thought.
"With those wounds, I'm surprised you can stand."
His own voice sounded flat, even to himself.
Kanata laughed. A twisted smile, as though he were holding back pain.
"Course I can stand. If I don't, I can't stop you."
"You're going to stop me?"
"I'm not gonna stop you."
Kanata's voice dropped low.
"Whatever you decide, I won't stop you anymore. Do what you want."
Ren looked into Kanata's eyes.
The bloodshot brown eyes stared straight back at him. There was no anger in them, no hatred. Only an exhausted resignation—and something else that refused to die.
Kanata turned his back to Ren.
That scorched back. The red-black wounds visible through the burned remnants of his clothes. The burns left by Ren's seam-staff.
"My brother got caught up in one of your re-burnings. He never came home."
Kanata's voice rode the wind to Ren's ears.
"And even so, I came all this way to stop you. I wanted to stop you before you burned yourself to nothing. But—forget it. If that's what you want, do what you want."
Ren couldn't say anything.
Kanata's back. The burn scars carved into it—his scars. This man had every right to hate him. Every right to despise him, curse him, kill him. And yet not once had he ever come at Ren with hatred.
*Why?*
*Why won't you blame me?*
Ren's throat trembled.
No words came. When he tried to speak, ash clogged the back of his throat. He couldn't breathe. His chest ached.
Kanata started walking.
"Let's go. The final fault. I'm not letting you go alone."
"Kanata."
Ren's voice barely came out.
"You shouldn't come."
Kanata stopped. Didn't turn around.
"That's not your call."
"You'll die."
"I know."
"And you'll come anyway?"
"Of course I will! If I let you go alone, you'll burn yourself along with everything else—I know that by now! That's the kind of person you are!"
Kanata's voice shook.
Not with anger, not with sorrow—just desperation.
"So I'm going. If you try to burn yourself, I'll stop your hand. If you fall, I'll drag you back even if it kills me. And if I get burned doing it, I don't care."
Ren stared at Kanata's back.
*Why does this man—*
*Go this far for me—*
Kanata walked on. Through the ash wastes, toward the final fault. His scorched back exposed to the wind.
Ren followed.
There was nothing else he could do.
The fissure in the sky groaned.
A sound like grinding metal rained down from above.
The two of them stood before the final fault.
The massive rift split the earth. Over twenty meters wide. Its depth bottomless. Standing at the edge, a low rumble rose through his feet, and the air trembled. On the far side of the fault, buildings appeared both half-collapsed and under construction at once. Steel beams floated in midair; stone walls stacked themselves and crumbled in the same breath. Time was in chaos here.
The fissure in the sky was at its deepest directly above the fault.
And at its edge—
Hisame Setsuna stood.
Her long red hair whipped violently in the ash-laden wind. The ends of it, reaching to her waist, were shriveled as though singed. An old burn scar on her left cheek. Several of her right fingertips were missing. Her amber eyes rested quietly on Ren and Kanata.
In her hands, she held a seam-staff wrapped in cloth.
"You came, Ren."
Setsuna's voice carried on the wind, surprisingly clear.
"I've been waiting. Right here, all this time."
Ren looked at her.
Her smile. The burn scar on her left cheek twisted every time she smiled. That smile hadn't changed since the first moment Ren woke. Unchanged, it had guided him all the way here.
"Setsuna. What are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I came to give you this."
Setsuna held out the cloth-wrapped seam-staff.
The staff Ren had swung two days ago—the one that split the world.
"You're the last hope. So I came to return it properly."
Kanata stepped forward.
"Are you kidding me?! You still want Ren to swing that staff?! How much more do you want him to lose?!"
Setsuna looked at Kanata. Still smiling.
"Kanata. It's not that I want Ren to swing it. Whether he swings it or not—that's for Ren to decide. I'm just bringing the staff here."
"That's the same as making him swing it! If you hand him the staff, he has no choice! You know that, and you're handing it over anyway!"
"I know. I know, and I'm handing it over. Because that's my role."
Still holding the staff out to Ren, Setsuna spoke.
"Ren. You're going to forget again, aren't you. If you swing this staff, you'll forget something again. What you did. Who you burned. All of it. So—I'll remember for you. Everything you've done. Even if you forget, I won't."
Setsuna's voice was soft.
So soft it was almost cold.
"Shall I tell you? The names of the worlds you've erased. The names of the people you've burned. Seven re-burnings. Everything you erased, each and every time."
Ren's breathing grew shallow.
His heart pounded, heavy, deep in his chest.
Setsuna opened her mouth.
"The first time. You burned the city where you were born and raised. The city's name is gone now. Your mother's face, her name—burned away. By your own hand."
—His mother's face.
He couldn't remember. Couldn't remember, and yet his chest ached.
"The second time. In the world after the Ash Witch vanished, you burned three villages to seal a fault. Their names were Ashita, Yorube, Higashi. The total number of residents—three hundred and seventeen."
—Three hundred and seventeen.
The number echoed in his skull.
"The third time. You burned half a city. Its name was Rigret. It's not on any map anymore. Because you burned it. The fourth time. You deliberately burned part of your own memory. What you forgot, even I don't know. The fifth time—"
"Stop!"
Kanata shouted.
"Stop it! Don't make Ren listen to any more of this!"
Setsuna looked at Kanata.
"Why not? You want to know too, don't you. What Ren has done. How he killed your brother."
Kanata's face contorted.
"I know! I know, that's why I'm trying to stop him! So he doesn't burn himself anymore!"
Setsuna tilted her head.
"What a strange person. Hiding Ren's sins to stop Ren. Does that save him? He goes on not knowing his crimes, swings the staff again, burns someone again. Is that what you call salvation?"
Kanata had no answer.
Setsuna turned her gaze back to Ren.
"I'll continue. The fifth time. You burned a seaside town. Its name was Shiojiri. It was a good town—smelled of the tide. The sixth time. You burned a mountain village. The name—it was the village where Kanata's brother lived."
Kanata's shoulders trembled.
"The seventh time—"
Setsuna paused for a breath.
"The seventh time was two days ago. You gave yourself to rage and burned the world, city and all. Mina vanished beneath the rubble. Kanata burned shielding you. And I—I watched it happen, and I l
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