Jyuzou screamed, and without a second to waste or a plan forming in his mind, he and Genni leapt down into Omer Narrows, before crashing into a building, only saved by Genni's shield bouncing them around the ground.

The two immediately stood, as if alerted, and the Serpigo followed its moves without hesitation. When its long, robe-like cloak settled onto the ground, it leapt up and dove in at the Morians, only for them to avoid its attack by splitting.

Jyuzou scoured, stressed out of his mind, while the Serpigo stood still, its head turning towards Genni.

It stared for a couple of seconds, and Genni dared to look back. Her fists were clenched, and shaky, but the Serpigo didn't budge. It bellowed a strange sound before the whispers of groans started forming words they knew.

"I know what you fear," it spoke, while Genni's eyes shrunk into nothingness. "I know what flesh you're made of. We want it..." it uttered, straightening up, and towering over Genni, in a black mass.

"Genni!" Jyuzou reached his hand out, his voice too weak to penetrate through the barrier.

"I could give it to them." the Serpigo continued, reaching its elongated limb to the girl, breathing heavily. "The thing they want. We want it. We need it."

She wasn't paralyzed with fear, like seconds ago.

The volcano's reach seemed to lengthen with each passing second. Fires crept up and down from the mountain and moved into the ruins of the various buildings of Omer Narrows, forming a completely new and unrecognizable battlefield.

There was no running away.

Genni crept closer as if somehow entranced by its decision. The boy knew what lengths Genni went to possibly achieve the things she needed to have for inner peace, but then again... he looked around.

The home they were to fight for was being destroyed in front of their very own eyes. The people who roamed the street ran in a desperate attempt to outlive the tragedy of the eruption, and the Serpigo's attack. Bodies lay around, and blood pools formed around the corpses of Wakon.

It was like stepping into Morta again. It wasn't home.

She couldn't let it convince her. She had to fight it.

Jyuzou never killed a Serpigo.

No matter how hard it was, happiness had to be fought for.

Genni smiled, her hand slowly moving towards the Serpigo's.

"We need it." it chanted, like a mantra, while Jyuzou found the courage to stand, and with a sour expression on his face, he yelled out:

"YOU CAN'T KILL IT!"

Genni turned to the Morian.

"BUT YOU CAN ALWAYS FIGHT IT!" Jyuzou clenched his fist, bearing the spear in both hands.

Genni snapped back to her senses, reminding herself of Jyuzou's earlier words, and processing the ones that echoed just a few seconds ago.

The Serpigo's voice changed into high-pitched screeches, but that didn't deter her from striking. The boomerang landed inside the void, with more black pouring out on the ground, mixing with the fire.

Jyuzou created a wind whirl, before lodging the spear into its shoulder and running forwards. His heart was beating. He was afraid, but willing to stand up and fight against the odds, even if he wasn't going to win.

That's what Koyote taught them, after all.

The ghostly sword found itself tearing a bloody opening inside its invisible, murky body, and a translucent shield protected Genni from its strike.

It was fast, but their combined methods were faster.

Genni's line of water allowed Jyuzou to throw a pebble through, creating a massive blow, but... there was no pebble.

He found the Metho seed, shrunk and shrivelled up, but still there, serving as the only reminder of Mistwick, standing against the backdrop of the home he and Genni fought for. A smile appeared in his bloody wounds, but he wouldn't hesitate. He didn't want to either.

Home fights for home, and when the words 'believe' appeared in Jyuzou's mind, the seed pierced through the line of liquid, creating such a massive wind, that the Serpigo disappeared behind a thousand dust clouds, rushing into the nearby mountain and crashing through even more buildings.

Jyuzou stood still, breathing in and out.

For a moment, everything was quiet, once again, only interrupted by his breath or the sound of blood dropping from his wounded body. A shiver followed, and a turn towards the mountain adjacent to town.

There he was, as he was back then. With a tilted crown, and chains wrapped around his body. The ghost stared back at Jyuzou, who gulped, smiling.

One step was taken, he wanted to reach it, but the second that occurred, Genni grabbed his hand.

"The fortress," she muttered. "Come on!"

***

Ingo climbed up the side of the building. The Serpigo rested on the ground as if charging power, and he too, grasped as hard as he could. He felt his weapon pulsating, beating to his heart's rhythm, and then lighting up red.

With one vigorous yell, he tried leaping, only for the ground beneath the two to start cracking.

He hesitated, for that one second, slowly dropping down the building's side, with his leg lodged between two bricks.

The cracks started forming and revealing an endless hole, which eventually took shape, resembling something along the lines of the crater's insides.

Lava poured in from the sides, consuming the rocks beneath and climbing towards the Serpigo, who floated above it.

A fire that was so hot, he could feel it, despite it being far away. His eyes shrunk at the sight, as the Serpigo stared into his pupils, which reflected its empty face.

It seemed to smile at him, before pointing down into the magma.

Ingo ground his teeth.

There was someone there, desperately clinging to a boulder, cracking with each second.

"Le-" Ingo tried saying something, reaching a hand, but only slid further, stopping himself. He gritted his teeth, furrowing his eyebrows.

The Serpigo pointed back at itself as if letting Ingo choose between it, and the person down there.

Ingo started trembling, his anger couldn't only be expressed with his mouth or eyebrows, as his entire body trembled.

"He's dead!" Ingo yelled out.

The Serpigo shook its head. The man down there was scared, looking down into the lava. Each second passing only led to him sliding in further.

Ingo was faced with a choice. The Serpigo was completely vulnerable, ready to strike, but someone was waiting down there, etching to be saved.

It was obvious what he had to do, but... it just didn't make sense.

Through fury, he yelled again: "He's dead!" he swung forward.

The Serpigo seemed to laugh in his face, before shaking its head. The clock was ticking. The heat was getting unbearable, and Ingo had to do something.

His hands were shaky.

One more unsure second, and they'd slip down, and he'd be forced to make a choice, despite not wanting to.

Either this or that. Either life or... death, again.

"You hesitated," Koyote commented, and Ingo halted, turning back to his mentor.

It looked real. It felt real.

But, it wasn't.

"The wounds are real," Ingo uttered. "The pain too, it's bloody real!" he continued. "But no matter how hard you try, it won't fade away. No power, no strength. It won't change shit that was already written!" he leapt, holding onto the club.

He didn't want to face it.

The club struck at the Serpigo, and at the same time, the figure seemed to sink into the ground and disappear.

Ingo's entire body was shaking, but he opened his eyes, nonetheless.

There was no lava, there was no friendly face reaching his desperate hand. There was no promise of something that couldn't be promised.

He ground his teeth, before turning around and breathing in.

The sounds of the people running back and forth, and their silhouettes came back to reality, and he stared, waiting for a couple of seconds.

His shaky palm reached into his big pocket, taking the vial he bought for the prize money, but instead of drinking it, he threw it to the side, with the liquid bouncing off the wall and sinking in between cobblestones.

"Next time I'll treat you instead." he put the club over his shoulder. "Maybe even sooner than later."

...and with half-a-smile, wounds all over his body, Ingo swung forward, in the direction of Roses Alley.

***

Morio ran around, desperately, swinging his hands back and forth.

He was sure of it. The same hair, the same Morian clothes, it was even weird how she bore such a thick outfit in Gorro, but then again, Gloria was always a strange woman.

The clouds above continuously shifted around the Morian, as if they were following him.

"Come, Morio, come!" she raised her voice, stopping when he stopped, and signalling with her hand.

Morio looked up. His eyes were gleaming, and one hand landed on the emblem beneath his shirt. "Mama..." he uttered, with a smile. "Wait for me!" he waved, running forward.

When he stepped out of the alley, there was no Gloria.

The only thing that stood in front of him, were the doors to a church, abruptly real, as if diffusing the illusion. Then again, he still smiled.

"Did you step inside?" he ran towards the doors and banged on them, but no matter how hard he pulled or thrashed, they didn't seem to budge. "Mama?" he asked, weakly.

A whistle sounded behind him, but when he turned, no one was there to face him. No Mama, no friend or foe, but...

The white willow.

What was so special about some bark? Even when he didn't want to see it.

Even if he tried turning away from all his weaknesses, the tree always seemed to be there, in the back of his mind.

A moment could never be truly happy. Something always loomed, reminding Morio of his deepest worries.

The tree wasn't the only thing out there, serving as a grim reminder.

The well-known silhouette peeked around the bark.

Morio's eyes shrunk, as he bore the sight of the bony fingers climbing around its axis, ripping in, revealing the black mass which always followed the Serpigo.

The noise it made, too. It was something he always knew. Each step left the ground black and withered, bricks were ruined.

But the tree stood still.

Morio grabbed the weapon from his sheath, but it immediately tumbled, much as if it was following what Morio was about to do in the next few seconds.

He was weak, after all. He always wasn't good enough.

Morio hid his face between his hands and rolled into a turtle-like position. "I can't do it. I can't fight it," he whispered to himself.

"I can't do it. I can't fight it. I can't do it. I can't fight it. I can't do it. I can't fight it."

At that moment, everything in the world convinced Morio that it was too much. The illusion of Mama, which he chased after as if he was just some child, not ready to step out of his nest.

"I can't do it. I can't fight it," he repeated, sobbing. "I can't do it. I can't fight it!"

His hand instinctively landed on the emblem, and when he squeezed it, everything felt... silent, for a couple of seconds.

The distant screams, the growls, the echoes, all turned into hush.

"If in doubt, remember." she wrapped a necklace around his neck, with an emblem of a reversed triangle with a line going down the middle. "You can always come home, Morio."

Gloria wasn't there, but something else seemed to tread a nearby path. Boots were sunk into thick snow, with a few huffs and puffs.

"Okie dokie! We're here!" Jeffy announced.

Morio looked up. There he was as if he was always there.

Jyuzou furrowed his eyebrows and squinted his eyes. "What happened to that tree?" he pointed. "It's almost stripped off its bark."

"I use it to train those darn swings! I'm still not sure if I'm too good with any of the weapons... shuckle seeds, doesn't hurt to try!" he looked up.

"What's the point?" Morio asked, slowly standing up. "It won't be of any help" he answered. "I'm weak."

"Hell, darn you aren't!" Jeffy furrowed his brows, his hand landing on Morio's Victis. "You've got your shuckled sword and I can already see it in your eyes!"

"Mama wouldn't be proud." he shook his head.

"Mama would always be proud! We have to become great Demonears! Swing!" Jeffy raised his voice, as one hit of the sword opened up the light brown interior of the tree, revealing its true colours.

Jeffy was there. He was so happy to see him again. Maybe this time something would've been different. Maybe today, he'd be able to stand up for himself and finally make a change.

***

"I hope he's looking at me from where Shin sits and beams every time things go great."

Weakness, and strength, all make a human, not a demon.

They were happy back then, simply smashing their weapons against some bark. But happiness opened up the tree's true, thick, brown colours.