CALAMITY : Legends Of The Chosen

Karl's hand shimmered as he traced intricate symbols in the air, the portal rippling open with a low hum. "This is it," he said quietly, his voice steady but heavy with caution.

Shojiro and the others stepped through the glowing gateway, and immediately the air thickened — charged with tension, despair, and something far colder. They found themselves in a dimly lit chamber, shadows stretching long across cracked stone floors.

In the center stood Enme Seiko.

Her figure was still, but every movement betrayed a mechanical rhythm — she stabbed, again and again, into the cracked remains of a shattered statue. Each thrust was methodical, devoid of hesitation, her lance sinking deep and twisting with hollow precision. Her hair, now longer and tangled, fell messily over her pale face, obscuring eyes that once burned with fierce determination.

Those eyes — now empty, glassy pools reflecting only pain and silence — never flickered to acknowledge their arrival. No glance, no breath of recognition. Just the endless, numbing repetition of the stabbing motion.

Around them, echoes of distant screams and wails swirled like a cruel lullaby, ghostly voices layered in a haunting chorus that seemed to seep from the very walls themselves.

Suddenly, a statue began to rise from the rubble, jagged and menacing, its form flickering with unnatural life. Without breaking her rhythm, Enme's hand tightened around her lance, and twelve shimmering rings of her Sentinel Halo erupted around her, whirling violently. The rings sliced through the emerging statue with surgical precision, tearing it down before it could even fully take shape.

Her breath was shallow, ragged — but her face remained expressionless.

Karl exchanged a glance with Shojiro, who clenched his fists, his heart pounding. None of them spoke. It was clear that Enme was not the same — whatever light had once shone within her was now buried beneath layers of exhaustion, trauma, and relentless pain.

Shojiro took a cautious step forward, voice trembling as he finally broke the silence:

"Enme... it's us. We're here."

Still, she didn't respond. The stabbing continued, relentless and unforgiving, as if punishing the broken statue was the only thing keeping her tethered to some fragile thread of existence.

Her body was there, but the Enme they knew was trapped far away — lost in a prison of despair that no one else could yet reach.

Continuing the Story — "Reaching Her"

Enme's grip on the lance finally loosened.

The weapon clattered against the stone floor, the echo sharp and unnatural in the dead silence of the chamber.

Her body sagged forward, shoulders trembling with micro-spasms — not sobs, not yet. Just… twitching. Like a machine short-circuiting after too many overdrives.

Karl knelt first. Slowly. No sudden moves.

"…Enme?" His voice was soft. Gentle. "Do you know who we are?"

Her eyes flicked up at him, just briefly.

Then she looked away.

Zans clicked his tongue, arms folded. "She saw us. She's still in there."

Max exhaled, crossing his arms behind his head. "She dropped her weapon. That's the most she's done in weeks."

Shojiro crouched beside Karl. His voice was low, unsure. "Enme… we've been looking for you. Ever since Karl found a way out of that hell-loop."

He smiled, strained but real. "We missed your yelling. Your judgment. Your deadpan sarcasm."

Leone finally stepped beside them, her eyes wide with sadness. "You held us together. You were the one who snapped us back into reality when we got lost in fear."

She reached out — slowly — and gently placed her hand over Enme's.

Enme flinched.

Her fingers recoiled instinctively like a wounded animal, twitching violently before freezing.

But she didn't pull away completely.

That was something.

"…Why are you here?" Enme's voice was brittle. Hoarse. Like gravel scraping metal.

It wasn't the voice they remembered — it was faint, nearly voiceless.

Her words were stitched together from air and agony.

"Because we're a team," Shojiro replied, leaning closer. "And we've already lost too much."

"No," she muttered. "You shouldn't have come. You… weren't supposed to see me like this."

Karl's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

She shook her head. "I'm not ready."

Max stepped forward, face darkening slightly. "Not ready? Enme, you've been alone in here for weeks. Maybe months. You're allowed to be messed up. We all are."

Zans added quietly, "We've all died in here. Over and over. And we're still picking ourselves up."

Enme lifted her face — and now they could see it clearly.

The hollow bags under her eyes.

The pale bruising on her neck and throat.

The shaking in her jaw every time she tried to speak.

Her lips quivered.

But it was her eyes — those once-bright, tactical, calculating violet eyes — that struck hardest. They were fogged. Not with blindness, but trauma. Like she was looking through you, not at you.

"…Don't ask me to remember," she whispered. "If I remember, it'll kill me again."

Silence fell.

A deep, sorrowful weight pressed against the group — not confusion, but respect. They didn't know what had happened yet. But the signs were there.

The tears she wouldn't let fall.

The hoarse, broken voice.

The self-loathing.

Shojiro finally stood.

"Then don't remember yet," he said gently. "Just know we're here. You're not alone. And we're not going anywhere."

He held out his hand.

Enme stared at it for a long, quiet moment.

She didn't take it.

But neither did she turn away.

Karl slowly reached into his satchel and pulled out a folded cloak. He stepped beside her and draped it over her shoulders — no words. Just warmth.

The flickering light of the maze pulsed dimly overhead.

And, finally, Enme breathed.

Just one long, shaky inhale.

"…Okay," she whispered. "You can stay. But don't… don't ask questions. Not yet."

Shojiro nodded. "We won't."

Max offered a smirk. "Guess that's her way of saying she missed us."

Zans didn't smile — but his eyes softened.

Leone quietly sat beside her.

And for a moment, the haunted silence of the chamber turned still.

Safe.

Continuing the Story – "The Silent One Returns"

---

The cloak draped over Enme's shoulders fluttered faintly in the stale air.

She didn't speak again.

Not a sound.

Not even when Karl gently asked, "Can you walk?"

She simply stood — slow, unsteady — but on her own.

Her hand dragged behind her slightly, fingertips tracing the cracks in the stone floor as if to ground herself in something. No nod. No reaction to their presence. Just movement, like a phantom trailing behind them.

Leone reached toward her, hesitating.

But Enme stepped past her without a glance.

Shojiro watched, his chest tight. She wasn't rejecting them — not fully. But she wasn't with them yet, either. Just orbiting. Breathing. Existing.

And silent.

Painfully silent.

Zans kept a close eye on her. Always behind. Always distant. Like she feared being seen more than being alone.

Max muttered under his breath, "I've seen broken before, but not like this."

Karl adjusted the artifact crystal embedded into his gauntlet. "Don't push her. She's walking. That's all we need right now."

Shojiro nodded. "Let's move."

They turned toward the exit corridor, the faint glow of Karl's artifact guiding their steps deeper into the maze. The walls around them shimmered with a faint heat — the path forward had changed again.

As they walked, the group glanced back often.

Enme followed.

Step by step.

But her eyes never met theirs.

Her lips never moved.

Even when a statue's echo screamed in the far-off chambers, and the sound made the others flinch — Enme didn't react.

Not even a twitch.

Like she had heard worse. Felt worse. Been worse.

And survived.

Zans whispered to Leone, "She's not just quiet. She's chosen silence."

Leone's jaw tightened. "Then we speak for her until she's ready."