"…"
Subaru blinked.
The world returned in silence.
The towering outline of the Flugel Tree loomed above, its colossal roots curled deep into the land. Light filtered through the branches like divine threads, weaving a tapestry of false peace. A breeze passed over his skin. It was warm.
But his chest—his neck—still burned.
Then—
"Yooo... Earth to Subaru? Or, well... not Earth, I guess?"
Gojo's voice. Casual. Familiar. It cut through the fog like a knife.
Subaru's eyes snapped toward him. A blur of white hair, that carefree grin, the stupid blindfold pushed up on his forehead.
His friend.
Subaru stepped back.
It wasn't a conscious decision. His body remembered something his brain hadn't caught up to yet.
Gojo noticed. A brow rose behind his shades. He didn't look angry, or like he was about to kill him. He just looked… confused. Concerned, even.
"Huh."
Subaru's breathing stuttered.
Logically, he knew—this wasn't that Gojo. Not truly. But it didn't matter. His fingers twitched at his side. His throat throbbed with phantom pain, the crushing memory of being choked to death by those same hands. Hands that had taught him to wield cursed energy. Hands that had taught him to endure.
If only I was stronger.
That single thought struck deep, striking a bitter chord in his chest.
If he had been strong enough—really strong—Gojo wouldn't have needed to protect them. Emilia wouldn't have had to fight. Rem wouldn't have had to die—again and again.
And maybe—just maybe—he wouldn't have died there, like trash. Like a helpless child.
He clenched his fist until his nails bit into his palm.
If you want strength that badly... then just take it.
Something whispered through the crevices of his mind. It wasn't the feminine voice he had grown to accept in the Shadow Garden. This voice was identical to his own, only… smoother. More self-assured. More malevolent.
"Dude..?"
Gojo stepped forward, the smile dropping from his face. He furrowed his brows, radiating genuine worry.
Subaru's heart jumped into his throat.
He forced himself to look up. To meet that gaze.
All around them, the soldiers, the villagers, and his companions—Rem, Wilhelm, Felix, Crusch—watched him quietly.
Their eyes held a collective question: Was he okay?
So, Subaru smiled.
A weak, crooked little grin pulled across bloodless lips. The mask he wore so well.
"Sorry about that, heh. Just... doing some intense thinking, you know? Strategizing!"
Gojo relaxed a fraction, though a lingering caution remained in his posture.
Subaru let out a breath, sharp and unsteady.
He wouldn't do that.
Gojo. Wouldn't. Do. That...
And yet—
His fingers still trembled at his side.
Either way, you're envious of him… of his strength, aren't you? Don't you just want to be him? Perfection incarnate?
Subaru flinched inwardly, squeezing his eyes shut as if to silence the voice scratching from behind his thoughts.
"Right… where was I, then…"
He walked forward, repeating every word he had spoken in the last loop—exactly. Measured. Careful. As though deviating even slightly might invite catastrophe.
This time, he would win.
He's better than you. Always has been. Always will be. Not just stronger. He's a symbol. He inspires. You? You rely on them. That's not Pride. That's cowardice. That's just you being a leech, Natsuki Subaru.
Subaru didn't answer it. Couldn't. The voice's mannerisms were throwing him off—it sounded like him, but a version of him that looked down on everything from a throne.
His jaw clenched.
His gaze drifted toward Gojo again—effortlessly calm, still the center of attention. Standing tall even after everything.
You seek strength. So rely on 'me'. Let me in. Let me lift the weight you pretend you can carry... and we can do it together! We're the main characters, aren't we?
Wilhelm stepped forward, eyes grave but warm. His deep voice carved through the tension.
"After your role in slaying the White Whale, and your vital part in avenging my beloved Theresia... I would walk with you through death and beyond tenfold, Natsuki Subaru."
Subaru blinked.
A beat passed.
And yet—he didn't smile.
He couldn't.
His eyes dipped to the ground. His mouth opened—but no words came. His hand trembled at his side, still holding the phantom warmth of Gojo's fingers around his windpipe.
"…Right…" he murmured.
A whisper. A rasp.
He forced himself to straighten, shoulders rising like a marionette on frayed strings.
"Let's get going, shall we…?"
Everything had gone perfectly—just like in the last loop.
Honestly, it was all smooth sailing up until Gojo decided to show up as an enemy in the previous timeline.
Now, Subaru stood before the mangled corpse of Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti, his body twitching ever so slightly as if refusing to accept death. Not that it mattered. Subaru had crushed him—they had crushed him—alongside Wilhelm and Rem. And frankly, it was easy. It had been for a few loops now.
At this point, Petelgeuse wasn't a final boss. He was a speed bump. A sick joke. He'd died to everything from Puck's rage to Subaru's own teacher.
Well, if it were me, I wouldn't really be puffing my chest out... You only beat Petelgeuse because you used everyone else as meat shields. Can that even be considered a win?
Rem leaned in, her blue eyes soft.
"Subaru-kun? Are you alright?"
"…Just fine."
He lied, of course. But they didn't need to know.
They didn't need to worry about someone like him.
You want to be strong, but you reject me. You want power, but you cling to others like a frightened child. Cut them loose. Stand alone. Then, and only then... will you understand what it means to be Pride.
"Stop," Subaru growled under his breath.
Well, you don't have to. It's totally your choice! But...
"Enough…"
You hate yourself, don't you? You use this 'power' to try and fill that void, to give yourself purpose... pathetic. I know, because I am you. The part of you that actually has standards.
"…Stop…"
Then and only then, is that—
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!!"
His voice cracked through the forest like a gunshot.
Wilhelm froze mid-step. Rem stared, startled—her hands hovering near him, unsure.
Then came the silence. The kind that doesn't just hang in the air… but suffocates the mind, too.
—————————————————————
Somewhere Dark...
A silhouette stood, pitch-black and formless, clutching the severed head of the Petelgeuse from the previous loop by its green hair. The cultist's face was twisted in eternal agony—frozen in death.
Pride tilted his head, resting a hand on his own cheek in a pose of exaggerated contemplation.
"Jeeeez... what to do about 'Main Subaru'?" he mused, a smirk audible in his tone. "I wonder if it's his own stubborn pride, or just good old-fashioned stupidity, keeping him from accepting me. It's not like he'll ever be whole if he ignores the best part of himself."
He tossed the head aside with a casual flick, stretching his limbs with theatrical flair. The fog swirled around his feet, thick and eternal.
Then, he walked.
A slow, confident gait through the mist-laden void—an endless dreamscape stitched together from Subaru's conscience.
Pride tilted his head again, as if chatting with someone walking right beside him.
"Hm? Bullying? Oh, come on—we're literally the same person. You can't blame his insanity for creating me. I just came out... better. More refined. Less whiny."
He stopped for a moment, standing in total and utter silence before lowering himself to sit. The mist surged upward, obeying his will, manifesting into the shape of an ornate throne.
Pride crossed his legs, resting his chin on his fist.
"I might not be strong enough to kill someone like you right now... but you can't kill me either. I am 'Natsuki Subaru' after all." He looked up into the void, his grin widening. "And you wouldn't ever hurt your beloved, right?"
Silence answered him. He leaned forward, letting out a dramatic sigh.
"Alright, alright, my bad... Though, I'm just curious. How many times do 'I' have to die before finally realizing that relying on these other people isn't strength? It's just delaying the inevitable."
—————————————————————
Natsuki Subaru sat inside one of the few structures in the village that hadn't been reduced to kindling. Across from him sat Felix Argyle.
In all honesty, Subaru had zoned out long ago. He already knew what the cat-boy was saying—he'd heard the medical jargon, the scolding, and the worry all before.
His focus was elsewhere. Inward.
Subaru exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the wood grain of the table.
The voice was gone for now. Whose voice exactly...? He didn't know, nor did he want to know.
Himself? As if he'd talk like that!
He couldn't even tell anymore.
BOOOOOM—!!
The world shook. A shockwave rattled the building to its core, dusting the room in debris. Subaru and Felix both jolted upright.
"W-What's going on?!" Felix cried out, ears flattening against his head.
Subaru didn't answer. He pivoted in his seat, kicked the door open, and sprinted into the chaos.
As he skidded to a halt in the dirt, he saw him.
Satoru Gojo.
The familiar figure stood amidst the destruction—shirtless, his body torn and tattered from battles Subaru hadn't seen. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in Subaru's veins.
The Six Eyes. Uncovered. Glowing with a terrifying, divine light.
They were the same as in the last loop.
Those same eyes that had looked at him not as a student, or a friend, but as an insect to be crushed.
To his left and right, both Rem and Wilhelm had been blasted away, caught completely off guard. Of course—why would they ever expect Gojo Satoru, the man who had saved them, to turn his fangs on them?
Subaru took a step back. Instinct took the wheel. Genuine, primal fear gripped him.
He had no chance. Not against him. Even weakened, Gojo was a calamity.
Tears began to swell in Subaru's eyes as he glared at his teacher's approaching silhouette.
...I don't want to fight you. I didn't last loop either... but what choice do I have?
I just don't want to keep dying, damn it…
He took slow, shaking breaths, watching Gojo's approach—closer, closer with each deliberate step. The pressure was suffocating.
In Gojo's current state, Subaru didn't doubt that he, alongside Rem and Wilhelm, could probably bring him down.
But two of the three are down.
You are me, and I am you. So why, for the love of god, can I not understand your thought process?
"...."
Subaru remained silent, his jaw trembling.
I am trying to help you! Seriously! Look at your dear teacher—currently seconds away from obliterating you. Do you think he has ever needed anyone to win a fight? He stands at the pinnacle. Alone. He beats everyone. Barring, well... a few hackers... And always—on his own. No help. Because he never asks for it...
"....."
Where did that get him? 'The Strongest Sorcerer.' A 'Prodigy.' That is the difference between us, Natsuki Subaru!
Subaru's eyes drifted downward to his shaking hands.
What's so wrong with relying on others…?
Everything! It is not PRIDE. To achieve power, SACRIFICE is required! SELFISHNESS is required! You cannot be the main character if you are constantly waiting for the supporting cast to save you!
It's not fair…
And then, just like before—
The familiar, horrifying hue of vermillion took shape at the tip of Gojo's finger. A small orb of concentrated Cursed Energy, screaming with power.
Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.
It shot outwards—a colossal blast of repelling force designed to erase everything in its path.
Subaru didn't move.
He didn't cry out. He didn't try to dodge.
He accepted it. This loop was already a complete and utter failure anyway.
But then—
CRACK.
A pitch-black wall erupted from the ground, traveling upwards like a sheen of obsidian glass to intercept the attack.
The collision was cataclysmic. The black barrier held—mostly. The front face of it melted away under the sheer output of the Red, hissing and screaming as reality warped around the impact.
Then came the pain.
It wasn't physical. It was like a serrated blade dragged across his very soul.
Subaru hit the ground. Vomiting. Writhing in the dirt as his mind fractured.
It felt like every part of his body was being endlessly torn apart and stitched back together in the wrong order.
Why was this happening to him?
What did he ever do that was so wrong?
He wants the pain to stop.
It's not fair.
It's not fair.
As if answering Subaru's desperate calls, the pain suddenly began to dissipate—
In its wake came an overwhelming coldness from within his own body. It was absolute zero. It felt as if phantom fingertips were gently gripping his heart—not to crush it, but to hold it. To fulfill his wish. As if the darkness itself didn't want to see him suffer anymore.
Then, there was only silence.
And darkness, without pain.
—————————————————————
"Ah..."
His eyes shot open.
The tree loomed above.
The light shimmered again.
And the wind swept over his skin.
It was warm.
But Subaru... wasn't.
He felt empty. Not hollow, not shaken. Empty—the kind of emptiness that seeps in only after realization.
Behold an Unthinkable Present...
He did everything the same. Every word, every step, every breath calibrated to perfection.
And still—he died.
Still—he lost.
To Gojo.
He'll win next time.
Behold an Unthinkable Present...
To the Beast of the End.
He'll win next time.
Behold an Unthinkable Present...
He changed his plan entirely.
Regulus killed him.
He'll.. win next time...
Behold an Unthinkable Present...
Gojo again.
He'll.. win next.. time...
Behold an Unthinkable Present...
Puck.
He'll.. win next... time...?
Behold an Unthinkable Present... Behold an Unthinkable Present... Behold an Unthinkable Present... Behold an Unthinkable Present...
Subaru clutched at his head, staggered backward, breath trembling. His knees buckled—but he didn't fall.
His body shook, not from fear, but from anger, absolute outrage targeted toward himself, mainly for being so weak.
You're clearly not thinking straight man. Why do you keep doing the same things that led to failure like all the last loops?
That voice again.
His voice. Clearer now.
It wasn't whispering anymore.
It was rising—like heat off scorched steel.
There's nothing wrong about putting yourself over others.
A breath.
It's what anyone would do, basic human emotion, y'know.
Subaru's vision blurred.
Not from tears. From something else.
The world around him rippled like a pebble against water. Trees stretched wrong. The sky pulsed. Shadows moved even though the light stayed still.
And then—
"So... let me show you what it means to stop losing."
His body twitched—head shooting to the side towards the voice. No longer did it sound like a constant noise from every direction in his head.
Subaru blinked, laying eyes upon a pitch-black silhouette who merely stared back at him, completely ignoring the mist-filled, dark landscape he now finds himself in.
"What's happening...?"
He heard his voice say it. Felt his lips move.
And in that split second—
He felt something, something evil.
A second heartbeat surged from within his own body.
Heavy. Confident. Syncing with his own.
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
"Be more selfish."
Ba-dum.
"Be more prideful."
Ba-dum.
"No more weakness."
Then, with terrifying gentleness—
"I'll carry it with you.
The burden.
The pain.
The fear."
"All I ask—"
"—is that you let me take the reins every now and then..."
Subaru didn't answer.
Because a part of him—the real him—already had.
And in the silence, in that quiet little void behind his consciousness, something smiled.
A grin wide and bright and sharp.
"Let us become Pride."
—————————————————————
Subaru opened his eyes again.
The world returned in silence.
His gaze swept across the now-too-familiar scene—Flugel's Tree, towering above like an ancient god carved from time itself. Around him, soldiers stood in a semi-circle, awaiting orders from the boy they had come to follow.
It was almost muscle memory at this point.
Subaru straightened, the same crooked smile stretching across his face.
"The Whale is dead!" he declared, raising his fist high.
"That dumbass fish who haunted these lands for generations—killed friends, family, lovers... is finally gone!"
A cheer erupted.
Soldiers echoed his gesture, fists in the air, roaring in triumph.
Subaru joined the shout, but his voice lacked heat. His heart wasn't in it.
I'm truly happy for them... but I've come to understand something.
For what comes next—they're not needed.
His eyes shifted subtly, locking onto the one figure who stood slightly apart from the crowd—Satoru Gojo.
Smug grin. Lazy posture. Eyes hidden behind shades and experience.
Just me and Gojo...
Well, if it's him... I guess it's fine, right!
Pride's voice hummed at the edge of his consciousness. Calm. Confident. Close.
Subaru swallowed the guilt. He cherished them—Rem, Crusch, Wilhelm. They were comrades, friends.
But right now?
Right now, what he needed wasn't love. It was power... over all else, so that those he cherishes wont ever have to die, so that he won't have to die again.
"Gojo-sensei," Subaru said, voice even. "Can you teleport us to Arlam Village? Or just outside it."
Gojo raised a brow. "Huh? Bit sudden."
A pause. Then a nod. "Sure..."
He stepped forward, hand resting lightly on Subaru's shoulder—and in the blink of an eye, the world blurred. The wind shifted. The trees were gone.
—————————————————————
Now, they stood on a dirt road bordered by endless green. Familiar. Peaceful. Temporary.
"Why though?" Gojo asked, eyes narrowing.
"The Witch's Cult..." Subaru replied without hesitation. "They'll be attacking the village and mansion soon. I only told Rem—she's sent word. Everyone should be evacuated."
Gojo's expression darkened slightly.
"Mm. Yeah. That sounds... serious."
Subaru gave a curt nod.
There's no reason to change what doesn't need to be changed.
Pride's voice, again—soft as silk, sharp as steel.
Subaru blinked but said nothing.
"I don't know when exactly they'll attack," he added. "But it'll be soon. You should get ready."
Gojo eyed him for a moment longer, his gaze more analytical than usual.
"Y'know... you feel different lately. Not bad. Just... off. Can't quite put my finger on it."
Then, shrugging, he offered a smirk. "But hey. You've been on a roll. I'll trust you."
With a lazy pivot and a wave over the shoulder, he vanished—blasting off into the forest like a thunderbolt.
Subaru watched him go, lips pressed in a tight line.
Sorry, Sensei. But after so many loops, I've realized the fastest way for you to grow stronger right now.. is to go face to face with death and return. And if you fail...? I'll just redo it until you succeed.
—————————————————————
Explosions rocked the horizon.
Winds howled, even the farthest of trees threatened to snap at their bases from each thunderclap that roared, signaling collision after collison.
Subaru stood still, unmoving, as Gojo and Regulus clashed once more, their battle shaking the world.
Just like last time.
Perfect.
Keep going... until I win.
Until "we" win.
—————————————————————
Subaru stood in the now-deserted village, the dirt roads eerily quiet beneath the golden afternoon light. The evacuation had gone smoothly—thanks to Rem's letter and Roswaal supplying the carriages. Everyone was gone.
He exhaled, slow and steady, eyes locked on the treeline beyond the village's edge. No movement. No sound.
But he knew they were there.
After countless deaths, he could just tell. The lingering miasma clinging to his soul was as much a beacon as it was a curse.
"You guys can come out now."
He didn't yell—but his voice carried.
A beat of silence.
Then the shadows came alive.
Dozens of cultists in tattered black hoods rose from the ground, heads bowed low in servile reverence. Silent. Still. Kneeling like insects at his feet.
It feels good, doesn't it...? Although they're total fodder, it's an amusing sight—to see them grovel before you. Right?
Subaru's lips tightened.
Pride's voice never left him alone.
"Could you get Sloth over here..? I've got a few words to tell him... as the 'Archbishop of Pride'."
No movement. No noise. Then, one of the cultists wordlessly melted into the earth, disappearing beneath the soil like mist in the wind.
You better know what you're doing...
'Cause I really don't wanna die anymore.
You think I'd ask you to do this if I didn't have a way? Come on dude!
Subaru's eyes narrowed, fingers curling at his sides.
He didn't answer. He didn't have to.
He just kept waiting.
And waiting... until—
STEP—STEP—
"A-Ahhh... is it TRULY TRUE?! No... no-no... It must be...! Though the GOSPEL reveals not your visage, the scent, the sting of the Witch's LOVE clings so DILIGENTLY to your person!"
Betelgeuse Romanee-Conti—slouched, twitching, muttering—the very same creature Subaru had killed more times than he could count. Yet, every time he returned, Subaru still found his presence unbearable.
Wrong.
Wrong even in death.
His limbs jerked and spasmed, neck snapping with unnatural force as he approached—like a broken marionette.
"It… it is a blessed day… but to think... THINK... that despite another taking the seat of Pride, I knew nothing of your existence—!"
With grotesque reverence, Betelgeuse bit into his fingers—deep. Flesh ripped, tendons snapped. Blood poured, teeth grinding against muscle as if in punishment.
"So SLOTHFUL OF MEEE!!"
Subaru winced, but only barely. The mask of tolerance thinned.
"Don't worry about it... nobody else knows either. As for why I'm here… let's just say..."
He slipped a hand into his tracksuit.
"My Gospel told me to."
Betelgeuse twitched, head cocked further than any human should endure.
"Truly...? Then you must... show me..."
"Of course. Come closer."
The cultist dragged his broken body across the dirt, each step wet with dripping blood.
Pride... you know what to do...
The voice grinned in his mind.
Then...
The light in his eyes was replaced by something ancient and terrible—galactic purple, deep and endless. Cold and final.
"You think you can just look at me... stand in my presence... not groveling at my feet?"
"Is that not.... Sloth?"
Betelgeuse blinked.
"What... are you—"
"My bad my bad, that was corny as hell, I know! Even though I am Natsuki Subaru, getting used to this whole physical body and not being surrounded in total darkness is really weird."
From beneath them—pitch-black in physical form erupted like a mouth from the ground around their feet.
A hundred jagged, monstrous black teeth spiraled upward, darkness coagulating to Pride's will, dimming the sun like a solar-eclipse.
Then—
CRUSH-!
The maw clamped down, devouring both figures whole in a single moment of total void.
Then silence.
When the shadows liquefied and receded into nothing, only Pride remained. Expression blank. Not a drop of blood. Not a trace of Betelgeuse. Not a thread of clothing.
Nothing.
Why didn't you destroy all the cultists at once? They're close enough...
Pride chuckled—his chuckle—and turned his head slowly toward the stunned and confused cultists.
"Well... I dunno, you tell me, we are the same after all bro."
Did you get Betelgeuse for real?
Pride's eyes narrowed. From one of the surrounding cultists, who he imagine Betelgeuse just possessed, dozens of purple arms burst forth—ghostly, wild, howling like banshees. They spiraled toward him like serpents, intent on tearing him apart.
"...No I didn't, he's a real tenacious one."
Swiftly, Pride had took a step forward, though not to evade the approaching hands, but to embrace them.
The air before him warped.
"I guess we can't all be as broken as Gojo-sensei... what did he call it, 'Infinity'?"
The arms twisted in the air—and missed their target. All of them.
Not because he dodged. Not because he blocked.
But because they weren't allowed to touch him.
They slammed into the ground around him with explosive force, uprooting earth, hurling debris to the sky. The ground shattered, forming a massive, smoking 'V' at Pride's feet.
It wasn't defense.
It was dominance.
No shield. No field. No energy.
Only the truth of his supremacy.
"You... YOU—YOUYOUYOUUU!!"
Betelgeuse's voice howled from a new mouth, one of the cultists twisting into a vessel.
"You DARE?! You DARE stand without LOVE?!"
He flung his arms forward.
"GO, MY FINGERS!!"
Pride's eyes snapped open—twins of seething purple fire—and a wicked grin split across Subaru's face. It was the kind of smile that could make even the most experienced of warriors feel unease.
CRACK—!!
The earth exploded beneath his heel. Stone fractured, dirt shot backward like a cannon blast as his body blurred forward—no wasted motion, only overwhelming speed and control.
The cultists were already rushing in—daggers flying like rain, each one thrown with unerring precision.
And yet—not one struck true.
The air warped around Pride's body, blades curving unnaturally, their trajectories bent as if reality itself refused to let him bleed. One dagger kissed past his cheek—then diverted mid-flight to bury itself harmlessly into the ground.
They weren't worthy.
Pride moved like a demon—graceful and unstoppable. His fist cocked back, knuckles whitening, tendons creaking under tension. Cursed Energy—so dense it pulsed—spiraled around his arm, dripping off like gravity-defying force.
Then—
BOOM—!!
His punch collided with the chest of the first cultist.
Not just force—obliteration.
The blow carved a half-meter tunnel through their torso, everything in its path reduced to vapor and red mist. Bone, sinew, organs—obliterated in a single instant. The cultist's upper half twisted grotesquely, eyes wide before what remained of their body was thrown like a ragdoll into the crowd.
Another cultist lunged from behind, dagger flashing in a downward arc—an ambush meant to be fatal.
It didn't matter, Pride's eyes fixed onto the approaching blade as it swung.
The blade's trajectory curved—again—missing by inches, as though pushed by an unseen force.
Pride didn't fully turn. Instead, he reached behind, fingers clamping around the cultist's face like a vice.
CRUNCH—CRACK—!!
Bone gave instantly under the grip—skull compressing, eyes bulging as the cultist screamed and flailed in blind terror. Fingers clawed at Pride's wrist.
Futile.
Darkness surged up his arm like veins pumping liquid void, crawling from elbow to knuckles.
Then his palm—
FWOOSH—!!
A jagged, obsidian spike burst forth from his palm, spearing clean through the cultist's skull. It didn't stop there—it split, branched, bloomed outward like a grotesque tree of spears, shredding brain matter and bone as it tore out the back of the head.
The body convulsed—then stilled.
Without ceremony, Pride twisted on his heel, body spinning with balletic elegance. He flung the mutilated corpse like debris—its limbs flailing in the air before slamming into two more cultists behind him with bone-crushing force.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
"These guys kind of suck... though there are a lot of them."
Pride's eyes twitched after a moment, widening in acknowledgement.
A presence.
A pressure.
His pupils snapped downward. Something gripped his forearm—tight, cold, unseen.
CRACK—!!
A jagged, unnatural bend split his right arm backward with sickening force.
"Darn... Sloth."
Not a scream. No agony. Just contempt. His brow furrowed, more irritated than wounded, as if the offense itself was beneath him.
Although, he was somewhat triggered. This was supposed to be his big debut after all—a way of flexing the Authority of Pride at full power to 'main Subaru'.
His left hand rose without hesitation—calm, slow, deliberate—clamping over the intruding hand.
Darkness surged. Not like shadows—this was living malice, thick and pulsing like liquid muscle. Veins throbbed black across his skin as obsidian energy flooded his arm.
SHNK—! SHNK—! SHNK—!!
Dozens of thin, jet-black spikes burst from the unseen hand and slithered up its length—toward Betelgeuse's body.
Somewhere in the shadows, Betelgeuse screamed.
The spikes exploded from a nearby cultist's chest—the one he was hiding inside—reducing the possessed vessel into a writhing, twitching sack of meat pierced from the inside out. Arms dangled like wet cloth as blood sprayed like ink.
Pride's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Shame I can't kill him for real… yet, after everything he's done."
With a flex of will, the broken arm twitched, bones knitting audibly beneath skin—still limp, but no longer facing the wrong direction.
His left hand rose again. Calmly.
Dozens more cultists surged from the treeline, blades held high.
Pride didn't even look at them. He simply flicked his wrist upward.
THWOOM—!!!
The earth ruptured.
From the cracked soil, black tendrils burst forth like serpents erupting from hell—long, barbed, fluid and fast. They lashed through the air, piercing through cultists mid-charge, lifting their impaled bodies before violently slamming them back down.
Limbs snapped like dry twigs.
Blood rained.
STEP—SWOOSH—!!
A dagger flew from his blind spot—whistling through air.
Pride's heel slid, pivoting with perfect grace. His back arched, head tilted as the blade missed his throat.
His grin faltered, out of annoyance.
"Uhm——"
Are they learning? Subaru's voice chimed in his mind.
His arm snapped up—CRUNCH!—breaking the cultist's elbow at the joint with a cruel upward jab. His hand followed, grabbing the attacker by the gut.
From within—
Dozens of thin, razor-sharp spikes exploded outward from inside the cultist's body—chest, back, eyes, limbs—splitting muscle and bone in a single, horrific burst. Their body trembled for a beat—then collapsed inward, limp and hollow.
Pride didn't slow. He didn't need to.
His hand extended to the side, palm flat.
The ground responded.
A vertical spike of obsidian burst upward, twisting and coiling into an elongated sword as it formed—long, jagged, and pulsing with malevolence.
He grabbed it with practiced ease—an executioner reclaiming his axe.
He exhaled, low and casual.
"…It's been fun playing with you guys..."
He raised the blade, dark edge poised forward, facing Betelgeuse and what remains of the Cultists.
"…but I'm done pretending you're actually interesting."