The remaining spiral lamps in the underground corridors of Yamato flickered weakly. Only the faint glow of spells on the wall panels and the shimmer of glyph paper clutched tightly in hands held back the total darkness. Outside, the sounds of the world were almost unrecognizable—creaking buildings, wailing spirits, and occasionally, the booming of spells from the central altar. Every breath of the people underground synchronized with the frantic heartbeat of the world; the air was thin, hearts raced, all waiting in a tense limbo between destruction and the miracle that never seemed to arrive.

  Saburo stood at the main barricade alongside Takeshi and Shinobu, inspecting the remaining glyph nails with a small spiral flashlight.

  “Don’t let a single barrier crack,” Saburo urged, pressing his fingers against the glyph, his voice low and anxious. “If any of them turn red, let me know immediately!”

  Takeshi peeked through the iron door, breathing slowly, his eyes scanning the shadows dancing on the outer walls. “I’ve never seen so many spiral spirits. They’re not attacking… but it feels like they’re waiting for something.”

  Shinobu gripped her hammer tightly, her gaze sweeping over the corridor and the members of the Lily Brigade. “Everyone, stay calm. If the spiral spirits break through the barrier, we’ll be the last line of defense before they reach the children.”

  The members of the Lily Brigade raised their hammers, their voices trembling but united. “Ready, Shinobu!”

  The air grew increasingly stifling. A faint vibration coursed through the stone and earth, causing everyone to press against the walls, ears straining, holding back screams that threatened to burst from their chests.

  In the basement, Akiko walked slowly, distributing warm water. Her face couldn’t fully mask her fear. Hana sat in a corner, holding Chiyo and two other small children who were quietly crying.

  “It's okay, sweetie… it will calm down soon,” Akiko said softly, handing a cup to Chiyo. “As long as we’re here, no one can touch you.”

  Chiyo stared at the dimming spell lamp, her voice breaking. “But the sounds outside… it’s like my mother, but also not. I’m scared, Akiko.”

  Akiko patted Chiyo’s back and then embraced all the children. “You’re with us here. Don’t let the sounds from outside make you forget who you are. Remember your name, and remember the faces of those you love.”

  From above the stone walls, droplets of water mixed with dust and ash. Among the refugees, an elderly woman wrote protective spells on old cloth, while two young men continued to light magitek candles, trying to stave off the encroaching night.

  In the magitek generator room, Mira replaced a spiral relay with trembling hands. She stared at the dimming indicator screen, the rumbling sounds from outside seeping through the ventilation. Tomio helped direct a crystal lamp toward the severely cracked glyph panel.

  “The spiral pressure is rising,” Mira whispered, her eyes red from exhaustion. “The signal from the central altar… it’s unstable. I don’t know, Tomio. I’m really scared that all the barriers will fail at once.”

  Tomio attached the last cable, trying to smile despite his heavy breaths. “You’ve done great, Mira. Everyone is safe because of your hard work. If the barrier falls, I’ll be the one standing at the front of that corridor. You take care of the kids.”

  Mira suddenly hugged Tomio, her voice choked. “Don’t talk like you’re going to die tonight.”

  Tomio held her hand gently, a bittersweet smile on his face. “I just don’t want to have regrets.”

  The sound of ancient spells began to resonate from the mothers in the refugee room. Some of the children wrote their names on spiral paper, pinning them to their chests—believing that as long as their names were remembered, they wouldn’t be taken by the spirits.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Kaoru, status on the western front? Report now!” Saburo spoke into the magitek communication device on his shoulder, his voice strained.

  “Western spiral gate is stable. But… wait… there’s a sound… a sound from within the walls. Saburo, some spiral spirits aren’t showing up on the detection devices; it’s like they’re waiting for a signal!” Kaoru’s voice crackled from afar amidst the rumble.

  Suddenly, the air grew heavier. From the underground floor, a horrifying sound emerged: cracking, stone fractures, and then the magitek alarm blared bright red, slicing through the darkness.

  The magitek alarm at the main barricade roared to life. Glyph nails exploded one by one like dry firecrackers. Shinobu screamed, panic rising in her voice.

  “Saburo! There’s something beneath the ground! The floor under the barricade is cracking!”

  “Everyone ready! Lily Brigade, delta formation! Takeshi, activate the spiral spell!” Saburo shouted, swinging his sword.

  Takeshi quickly recited the spell, his fingers forming runes in the air. “Spiral Aegis—Binding Name!”

  The glyphs on the floor glowed blue before shattering completely. From beneath the floor, a blackish-red mist crept up, forming the figure of a giant spirit: its body composed of thousands of faces of the dead, its eyes hollow but their mouths moved, whispering one name to another.

  The Giant Spiral Spirit’s voice thundered from all directions, “Name… give me YOUR NAME!”

  Children screamed hysterically. Hana covered Chiyo’s mouth, holding her tightly. Mira backed away until her back pressed against the generator wall, cold sweat beading on her temples. Tomio drove the relay into the floor, his voice trembling.

  “Saburo, the barrier has fallen! The last relay has failed too!” Tomio shouted, shaking.

  Akiko, holding the children tightly, screamed, “Shinobu! All children to the back! Mothers, protect them!”

  Shinobu stepped forward in the line, raising her glyph hammer high, her eyes challenging the mist. “We are not your victims! As long as one name survives, your spiral cannot win!”

  The spirit mist crept into every corner of the basement. The last barrier fell, and all the spiral lights extinguished one by one. The sounds of screams and prayers mixed together; some people fainted, others cried, but no one truly fled. Saburo stood at the front, holding himself up with the last remnants of spiral energy in his sword.

  “Take care of the barricade, you two! I will hold the spiral spirits back, even if I have to die here!” Saburo shouted to Takeshi.

  “Don’t be foolish! We either survive together or die together!” Takeshi replied, turning, blood dripping from his temple.

  Behind them, Akiko and Hana embraced the children, holding anyone they could touch. Mira gripped Tomio’s arm, trying to write a new glyph on the floor with trembling hands.

  “I… I don’t know any more spells. I’ve used them all, Tomio…” Mira said, half-desperate, tears falling.

  “You’ve done enough,” Tomio reassured her, trying to smile amidst the panic. “If this is the end of the world, at least we’re together.”

  “Lily Brigade, final formation! Everyone hold hands, don’t let go! Say your names out loud!” Shinobu shouted.

  The members of the Lily Brigade, in unison, held hands. “Shinobu! Akiko! Hana! Mira! Chiyo! Tomio! Saburo! Takeshi!”

  The Giant Spiral Spirit’s voice shook the room. “You can scream, but the spiral swallows all sound… give me your name!”

  The floor in front of the barricade shattered completely. The red mist transformed into long hands reaching for everyone in the front line. Some people were pulled toward the mist, screaming, losing their memories, their eyes vacant and their bodies swaying.

  Takeshi slashed at the spirit’s hand, his shout splitting the room. “DON’T TOUCH THEM!”

  Saburo swung his spiral sword, breathing heavily. “YOU DEMONIC CREATURE! YOU WILL NOT TAKE OUR NAMES!”

  Shinobu threw a glyph, chanting the spell. “PETAL CRUSH!”

  The glyph exploded in the air, temporarily driving the mist away. The children who were almost pulled back regained some awareness, while others remained weak and crying.

  “Fitran! Help us!” Akiko screamed in panic, her voice breaking.

  At the central altar, Fitran opened his eyes. He felt the spiral pressure penetrating the underground barriers, hearing the echoes of the names he loved. With bloodied hands, he wrote runes in the air, casting “Null Spiral Bind” toward the city center—but Izanagi’s power held back every spell. The world held its breath.

  In the underground, the voices of the spiral spirits grew louder.

  The Giant Spiral Spirit’s voice pressed on, “THE OLD WORLD HAS ENDED! YOUR NAMES BELONG TO THE SPIRAL!”

  With his last breath, Saburo looked at everyone who remained, his voice hoarse. “If this is the end, remember one thing—no spiral is stronger than the name of a human!”

  Suddenly, a massive explosion sounded above. Stones fell. Red and purple light burst through the cracked ceiling, flooding the basement. Everyone was stunned, their bodies frozen.

  A tall figure descended slowly: cloaked in white and gold, with glowing red eyes and long hair flowing like mist. Izanagi stood in the center, her cold aura silencing all sounds.

  “You wish to survive? Then let me bear witness to the last names of Yamato!” Izanagi’s voice echoed throughout the underground world.

  The air froze. Between hope and destruction, only one step remained before everything truly changed. Beneath Yamato, names began to fade, and the world awaited the decision of the gods and humans—who would rewrite destiny, and who would be lost forever in the nameless spiral.