Rio | Sword and the spear

[Holy War]
"I Am but a loyal, follower of the lord, of the empire, of the empress, of the blade."
𓁽𓁽𓁽

[Rio]
It had been a perfect day—warm, peaceful, full of joy. Rio ran through the fields, her laughter echoing across the land as she chased butterflies under the golden sun. Inside the house, her father had caught a duck and a chicken, and tonight, they would feast.

Her mother stood by the kitchen window, watching Rio with a smile while preparing the meal. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and her husband rested his head on her shoulder.

"She's a wonderful child, isn't she?" she murmured, eyes full of love. "Just look at her, so full of life."

Her husband chuckled softly. "She got that from you, honey."

The food was ready soon after. They gathered around the table, tearing into the roasted chicken, laughter filling the room. Rio bit into a drumstick, juices dripping down her chin, too focused on the delicious meal to speak. As the hours passed, the world outside grew silent, the warmth of family wrapping around her like a blanket.

Then midnight came.

Rio stirred in her bed, something pulling her from sleep. The silence was unnatural, heavy. And then—there it was. A sound. Wet. Sloppy. The distinct noise of chewing.

Confused, she sat up, heart pounding. She pushed aside the blankets, her feet hitting the cold wooden floor. Slowly, she crept to her bedroom door, pressing her hand against the wood before easing it open.

"Mom—?"

The word died on her tongue.

There, in the dim moonlight, a figure crouched over her mother’s lifeless body. A human—no, a monster—gnawed hungrily at her leg. Her father lay motionless nearby, his chest torn open, intestines spilling out like grotesque ribbons. His face was frozen in horror.

Her mother, barely conscious, turned her head toward Rio, her voice a trembling whisper.

"Rio… dear… run. Run like you've never run before."

Her breath hitched. Every part of her screamed to wake up, to shake off this nightmare. But it was real. The blood pooling on the floor, the sickening sounds of flesh being devoured—it was all real.

Then her legs moved. Instinct took over. She ran.

Out the door, into the night, the wind howling through the trees. She ran blindl