The Crystal Palace was less a residence and more a declaration—a monument to excess where every corridor could host a parade, every window was a kaleidoscope of colored glass, and every meal felt like a coronation feast.
Satoru Gojo despised it all.
He lounged in a private chamber, legs casually propped on a wooden chair worth a village's entire worth. Across from him, the air hung thick with unspoken strategies.
Chisha Gold wore the Emperor's face like a well-fitted mask, and beside him.
Berstetz Fondalfon sat with the stillness of a chess piece awaiting its move.
"Sooooo~" Gojo began, plucking a grape from a gilded bowl and popping it into his mouth. "Let me wrap my head around this. You're all sweating over this 'Great Disaster' that's supposed to scrub the Empire clean. But what's really eating everyone isn't the prophecy—it's this city. Guaral, right?"
Berstetz's gaze sharpened, though his expression remained carved from stone.
"Guaral is a strategic pivot, Gojo-dono. It commands the western trade arteries. Its fall would expose the capital's throat."
"Yeah, yeah, geography lesson received, old man." Gojo waved a dismissive hand. "I'm talking about the vibe. I passed the war room earlier. Your soldiers look like they've seen ghosts. Troops aren't just shifting for defense—they're pooling. Mobilizing for something ugly."
Gojo swung his legs down and leaned forward, the bandages over his eyes doing nothing to dull the intensity of his focus as he aimed it at Chisha.
"You're not preparing a defense. You're preparing for a purge."
Chisha did not flinch. It was Berstetz who answered, his voice silk over steel.
"We have confirmed intelligence. Rebel elements consolidate near the Buddheim Jungle. The Shudraq tribes move with them. And there are whispers… of a figure claiming legitimacy."
"A usurper," Chisha added, the word heavy, final. "He gathers savages and strays. And he marches—— straight for Guaral."
"Right, right. Civil war 101. You covered that already." Gojo stood, hopping off of his chair and pacing the opulent room back and forth. "But here's what's funny. I peeked at the reports you buried under all that official parchment. That general—Zikr, was it?—he's locked the city down suuuper tight, or so I heard. No one in, no one out."
He stopped. The very air in the room seemed to grow dense, resistant.
"And there's a draft on your desk, Mister Prime Minister. An order. To 'sanitize' Guaral if it falls."
Berstetz's composure did not crack.
"A contingency. Should the rebels seize the city, we cannot allow them to hold it. It must be denied."
"Denied?" Gojo's laugh was a cold, sharp thing. "You mean burned. You mean burying every soldier, every shopkeeper, every kid inside just so the 'bad guys' don't get a shiny new fortress."
Though he'd laughed, his expression was unmistakably a frown.
"That breaks our deal, old man. I said no collateral damage. I said no sacrificial pawns. You don't want me to punch you so soon into our little collaboration right?"
"It is a necessity!" Berstetz insisted, his tone hardening in an instant. "The Great Disaster demands a unified Empire. A rebellion would bleed us dry before the true storm even arrives. The loss of Guaral is a tragedy. The fall of the Empire is an extinction event."
"That's just math." Gojo pouted, dragging a hand through his white hair. "And I haaaate math. That's literally my power you know~ well not exactly, but more importantly..."
He turned to the window, overlooking Lupugana in all its ordered, ruthless beauty—a kingdom built on cold calculus.
"——You call it pragmatism. The 'hard choice.' But killing people isn't hard—it's the easiest thing in the world for the strong to do. Saving them? That's the puzzle worth solving."
He spun back, all casual pretense gone.
"——I'm going to Guaral."
Chisha rose, the Emperor's mantle lending weight to his movement.
"You cannot. Your presence here is what keeps the other Divine Generals in check. If you leave, the balance shatters."
"Let it shatter then." Gojo shrugged. "If I stay, I'm a decoration. If I go, I can stop a massacre."
"And if you encounter this 'Usurper'?" Berstetz's voice was dangerously quiet. "What then?"
"I'll have a chat," Gojo replied, a sharp grin returning. "Maybe he's more reasonable than you two. Or maybe I'll just knock everyone's heads together until they remember how to talk instead of slaughter."
"Satoru Gojo," Chisha's voice dropped into a low, imperial growl. "You are bound to the Empire now. Defiance is treason."
Gojo reached the door, his hand resting lightly on the ornate latch.
"I told you before, didn't I?"
He glanced over his shoulder. The playful grin had vanished, replaced by something utterly untamable—an expression that did not belong on anyone so young.
"I'm not a sheep. I don't follow orders. Besides, this helps you too, 'cause I'll have it done before word can even spread, probably."
He pushed the door open.
"I'm going to save Guaral from the rebels. Try to stop me, and I'll add 'toppling the government' to my afternoon schedule."
And with that, Satoru Gojo strode from the room, leaving the two most powerful men in the Empire seated in a silence that vibrated with frustration and fractured plans.
He had a battle to unravel. And he never did care for permission anyway.
——————————————————
simply disappeared.
Subaru gasped, instinctively placing his hands on his chest as he desperately searched for the wounds that were no longer there. A phantom pain lingered, a haunting reminder of countless beams of light piercing through him, causing him to shudder uncontrollably.
"——Subaru?"
He blinked, trying to adjust to the green haze of the jungle. Once again, he found himself crouched beside Abel. Mizelda, Kuna, Holly, and Louis stood watch behind them, while the imposing gray walls of Guaral loomed in the distance.
"You look… rather pale," Abel observed, his masked gaze sharp and scrutinizing. "Did you see something?"
Subaru wiped the cold sweat from his brow, his breath uneven.
Abel's choice of words startled him. Did he somehow know about Return by Death? The thought was instinctive, laced with paranoia, but he quickly dismissed it. It was impossible. At most, Abel had pieced together something unusual about him—formed a theory. But the secret of his curse remained his own.
"How did you… never mind. It doesn't matter," Subaru replied, waving a hand dismissively. "But yes, I did see something."
Pushing himself to his feet, he dusted off his knees and exhaled slowly to regain his composure. The memory of Arakiya—the Spirit Eater—was burned into his mind. Her power exceeded even his darkest expectations. A direct confrontation would be a massacre. Even with the strength of the Shudraq and his own tricks, they would be obliterated before they could land a single meaningful blow.
Unless he was prepared to sacrifice dozens of lives, grinding against her as he had against Reid Astrea.
"Change of plans, Abel," Subaru said, his voice taking on a determined tone. "A significant one."
He quickly laid out the situation.
"Arakiya intercepts us before we even reach the city. And she's… stronger than I anticipated. I probably should've taken your warning more seriously, but I was too focused on that Cecilus character."
"The Spirit Eater makes her move, does she…" Abel mused, raising a hand to his chin in contemplation. "If that is the case, what alternative do you propose?"
"All I can think of is that we go in as soldiers," Subaru declared. "We ambush a patrol, take their armor, and walk right through the front gate. We need to reach General Zikr before chaos erupts. If we can actually get him onto our side, we can use his authority to lock down the city before Arakiya arrives. After that point... I don't really know."
Abel considered this, then nodded slowly, a measured response.
"A calculated risk. Facing both the Second Divine General and an entire army would be untenable. Neutralizing one of those threats is a logical approach."
"Then it's settled."
——————————————————
They moved with urgency. Subaru, agile and propelled by a sense of haste, quickly spotted a small patrol on the city's outskirts. Kuna had volunteered to scout, and while he trusted her abilities, time was of the essence.
The ambush was executed swiftly and silently. The patrol of six imperial soldiers was caught completely off guard. Kuna and Holly took down two of them with perfectly synchronized arrows.
Before the remaining soldiers could react, Subaru sprang into action, delivering precise, incapacitating strikes to their necks. They fell to the ground in unison.
Abel observed from the shadows, offering a brief nod of approval.
"Strip them. Quickly."
Minutes later, Subaru and Abel stood dressed in the crimson armor of the Vollachian army. The fit was less than perfect—Subaru's shoulders strained against the seams of his tunic—but it would suffice for a casual inspection.
Subaru turned to Louis, who was holding her discarded clothes. "You stay with Holly and Kuna, okay?" He gently patted her head.
"Uaa!" Louis nodded, her wide eyes fixed on him.
Subaru took a small, resigned breath. He no longer saw just a monster in this blonde child.
If he was being deceived by an Archbishop, then so be it.
He would allow himself that mistake, just this once.
"Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Just stay put, alright?"
She hesitated, taking a step forward, but Holly's firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. The Shudraq woman offered a reassuring glance.
"We will protect her with our lives," Kuna said, her voice steady. "Focus on your task."
"Let's go," Subaru nodded, then turned to Abel, who was adjusting his helmet. "Time to meet the Womanizer."
"As you say."
——————————————————
The journey to the gate resembled a precarious tightrope walk, fraught with tension. Each step taken in the ill-fitting armor felt painfully conspicuous.
Subaru was acutely aware that, in a direct confrontation, he could easily overpower any ordinary soldier present; however, the true peril lay in Arakiya. The objective was not to engage but to evade the excruciatingly painful demise he had recently endured. At this moment, silence and speed were their most valuable allies.
"Halt!"
A guard stationed at the gate pointed his spear toward them.
"State your business, men."
Really? Aiming spears at what they think is their own men? Isn't that just stupid as hell?
Subaru mused, yet he maintained a weary and expressionless demeanor.
"Patrol returning from the eastern sector," Abel declared, skillfully adopting the gruff tone characteristic of a battle-weary soldier.
"We bring an urgent report for General Zikr—intelligence concerning the rebels."
The guard narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing their armor with intensity. His gaze ultimately settled on Subaru, who managed a fatigued, half-hearted salute.
"Urgent intelligence?" the guard scoffed, though he eventually acquiesced. "Very well. Make it quick. The General is in a foul mood."
With a creak, the gate opened just wide enough for them to slip inside.
Subaru exhaled a breath he had not realized he was holding. They had successfully entered.
The city of Guaral felt akin to a tightly coiled spring. Soldiers patrolled in rigid, tense formations, while civilians were conspicuously absent.
"... Straight to the area of command," Abel murmured.
They proceeded with determination, seamlessly merging into the flow of crimson armor. The command center loomed ahead, a building not too different to the others at the heart of the city, though its significance was clear based on the constant stream of soldiers entering and exiting.
"Eliminating them all would not pose much of a challenge..." Subaru whispered, scratching his helmet, "but it would definitely alert the entire city."
"Precisely why we shall not," Abel replied matter-of-factly. "We shall simply walk in."
Abel approached the guards stationed at the heavy doors with unwavering confidence, undeterred by the scrutinizing gazes of numerous men.
"Message for General Zikr. From the Prime Minister."
The mention of 'Berstetz Fondalfon' acted as a key, causing the guards to stiffen, exchange glances, and step aside.
"That was a swift response, but do mind your words when addressing the Second Class General..." one guard cautioned.
Abel nodded in acknowledgment and entered, with Subaru closely following, absorbing their new surroundings in silence.
Inside, the halls were quiet, adorned with tapestries that celebrated the Empire's illustrious history.
They found Zikr Osman in his office, hunched over a map. Upon noticing their presence, he looked up, his face etched with fatigue.
"... Report," he instructed, his gaze fixed firmly on the parchment before him. "What news from the east?"
Subaru closed the door behind them and secured it, his eyes briefly meeting those of a guard stationed against the wall, who regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
Zikr finally lifted his gaze as Abel approached quietly, his expression sharpening with focus.
"What is the meaning of this, soldier?"
"General Zikr Osman..." Abel replied with unwavering authority.
In a fluid motion, he removed his helmet and the mask beneath it, revealing his countenance.
"——I believe we have much to discuss."
In an instant, the guard by the door collapsed. Subaru had crossed the room in a heartbeat, his hand a swift and precise weapon against the man's neck. The soldier fell without even drawing his blade.
Zikr's eyes widened—not at Subaru's speed, but at the face before him. He rose slowly, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword… then froze.
"You…" Zikr breathed, the color draining from his face. "The Emperor's visage… But that is impossible…"
"Sit down, Zikr," Abel commanded, his voice resonating with imperial authority. "Unless you wish to die for a false sovereign."
Zikr hesitated, his gaze flickering between Abel's regal demeanor and Subaru's vigilant stance by the door. Subaru remained silent, allowing Abel to take the lead.
"You… are the 'illegitimate son,' then?" Zikr inquired, turning his bewildered gaze toward Subaru.
"Huh?" Subaru's brows shot up in genuine confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Abel clicked his tongue, thankfully redirecting the conversation before it could stray into irrelevance.
"Disregard that for now. Allow me to clarify the situation."
The negotiation unfolded like a tense psychological siege. Abel dismantled Zikr's loyalty piece by piece—revealing the coup, the prophecy of the Great Disaster, and the hollow farce of the current reign. He wielded cold logic and the undeniable weight of his presence like a blade.
It took nearly an hour, but it was effective.
Finally, Zikr slumped back into his chair, the defiance draining from his posture.
"If your words are true… then my service has been to a lie. For… quite some time now."
"It has," Abel confirmed, his tone softening slightly. "But now you may serve the truth. Surrender the city. Order your men to stand down. And finally, when Arakiya arrives… we will be ready."
Zikr glanced at his sword, a symbol of his duty. Then he looked at Abel, the true emperor in exile. Resolve solidified in his eyes. He lowered his head in a deep, formal bow.
"My life and my command are yours; I pledge myself to the true Emperor."
Subaru let out a sigh of relief, removing his helmet and running a hand through his hair to sort it out.
"Well, that was easier than—"
——BOOM!
The very stone of the building trembled as a distant impact erupted.
"What in the world?!" Zikr shouted, leaping to his feet and seizing his sword.
Subaru rushed to the window, his stomach dropping.
A massive dust cloud billowed from the city's main gate. Floating serenely above the wreckage, silver hair shimmering amidst the chaos, was a woman holding a wooden wand with casual, terrifying ease.
"Arakiya," Subaru whispered, his knuckles whitening on the windowsill. "She's here already. And this… this is different from what I saw before."
He spun back to face Abel and Zikr, all relief evaporating, replaced by the cold rush of a plan unraveling.
"Plans have changed once more. We don't have time for traps. We confront her now."
Abel frowned as he looked out the window.
"She's faster than I anticipated. Her power has definitely increased since our last meeting."
"Zikr!" Subaru shouted, his voice slicing through the tension.
"Get your men to evacuate the civilians from the main streets. This city is about to turn into a battlefield."
Zikr, looking pale but resolute, nodded.
"It will be done immediately."
Subaru locked eyes with Abel through his mask.
"Are you prepared?"
Abel adjusted his mask, a fierce determination shining in his visible eye.
"I am always ready. Just try not to get yourself killed, Natsuki Subaru."
"Heh, that almost sounds like you're concerned for me, Abel!" Subaru replied with a grin.
Abel scoffed and rolled his eyes at Subaru's words, though the slightest hint of a smirk was etched upon his face.
"Your jesting is certainly laughable, but regardless of that, begone at once."
Subaru hummed in affirmation and climbed up onto the open window.
"As you say, Your Majesty~"
Then, without a moment's hesitation, he leaped out, landing in a crouch on the street below.
——————————————————
As Subaru leaped from the window to confront the Spirit Eater, Abel pivoted sharply to face Zikr. The General's countenance remained resolute, a façade of discipline amidst the chaos unfolding outside.
"If I may, Your Excellency..." Zikr inquired, his voice taut with tension. "Do you genuinely believe that Natsuki Subaru can contend with the Second Divine General?"
This was indeed the pivotal question.
One that even Abel could not answer with absolute certainty.
He adjusted his mask, allowing his gaze to linger on the shattered window for a fleeting moment.
"That man is an enigma," Abel conceded, his tone cool and detached. "I have yet to fully grasp the extent of his abilities. However, I will assert this from what I have managed to perceive: Natsuki Subaru possesses a survival instinct that borders on the supernatural. He possesses the acumen to recognize that confronting Arakiya directly would be tantamount to a death sentence if he lacks the requisite strength. Thus, if he has opted to engage... he must have a strategy in place."
Zikr's eyes widened in realization. He did not question the Emperor's judgment; he merely nodded, accepting the rationale presented.
"If Your Excellency deems it so, then it must be the case."
"——I also harbor a suspicion," Abel added, almost as an afterthought, "that the stars may favor him."
The words were delivered with such nonchalance that Zikr nearly overlooked their significance. He halted mid-step.
"That man... is a Stargazer?!"
Abel exhaled softly, turning toward the door.
"It is merely a hypothesis. However, the fact that he was aware of Arakiya's impending arrival before it transpired is sufficiently similar to one of those people. Regardless, we must expedite our journey to City Hall. We must act swiftly before the collateral damage wrought by those two renders the streets impassable."
"Of course!"
Zikr advanced, flinging open the heavy oak doors. He gestured toward the astonished guards in the corridor. Many had already fled toward the tumult at the gate, but a steadfast few remained, their grips on their spears and swords tense.
"Move quickly, men! Protect the citizens of Guaral with your lives! Initiate a full evacuation of the lower districts. Ensure that everyone is distanced from the conflict!"
"But, what about you, sir?!" a young soldier exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice.
Zikr dismissed the concern with a decisive wave of his arm.
"My safety is inconsequential! There are far more urgent matters at hand. Go! Now!"
As the soldiers dispersed, vanishing into the intricate streets to rally the civilians, Abel and Zikr raced down the vacant corridor.
They maneuvered through the back alleys, moving with a speed that belied Zikr's stature and Abel's regal garb. The sounds of battle—explosions and the crackling of flames—resonated in the distance, intensifying with each passing moment.
They rounded a corner, aiming for the main plaza that led to City Hall.
And then, they halted.
Positioned in the center of the alley, obstructing their path, stood a solitary soldier.
He donned the standard uniform of the Imperial Army, yet his face was obscured by a cloth mask, revealing only his eyes. He wielded a battle axe in one hand, the metal glinting dully in the shadows.
"... Halt," the soldier commanded, his voice unnervingly calm.
Zikr frowned, stepping forward.
"Soldier! What are you doing? The evacuation order has been issued! Step aside!"
The soldier remained unmoved. He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on Abel.
"Second Class General Zikr Osman," the soldier addressed, disregarding the command. "And... you, who are associated with that entity."
Abel's eyes narrowed behind his mask.
"You are perceptive enough, it seems," Abel remarked coldly. "Who are you?"
The soldier chuckled, a dry, humorless sound.
"Just a man striving to survive, in the end. And to endure... I must eliminate the variables."
The soldier raised his axe and exhaled deeply.
"First things first...."
"——I will sever the head of the spider."
Zikr drew his sword, positioning himself protectively in front of Abel.
"This is treason! Identify yourself at once!"
The soldier's eyes crinkled in a smile beneath his mask.
And then, Todd Fang did not hesitate to act; he instead lunged forward with remarkable speed.
"———!!"
Although he lacked the physical might of monsters like Subaru, he was undeniably efficient.
With his off-hand, he hurled a knife, not at Zikr or Abel, but towards a stack of crates nearby.
The crates toppled over, spilling barrels of oil across the alleyway.
In an instant, before anyone could intervene, he struck a flint against the head of his axe with sufficient force to produce a shower of sparks.
A wall of fire erupted between Zikr and Todd, effectively separating the General from his assailant.
"General——!?"
Abel shouted, raising a hand to shield his eyes as he stepped back from the heat.
"I am unharmed!" Zikr bellowed, shielding his face from the flames. "But he—"
Suddenly, Todd emerged from the smoke and flames in an unusual manner, unscathed by the fire.
While his time in the flames was brief, any ordinary individual would have suffered burns from such an act.
However, Todd remained unscathed due to the fact that he had previously soaked his cloak in water.
Utilizing the fire as a cover, he lunged through the inferno to strike while Zikr was momentarily blinded.
His axe swung down, targeting Zikr's neck.
However, Zikr managed to parry at the last moment, his sword catching the axe by its handle.
The force of the impact drove him to one knee as he grimaced beneath the weight.
"——Grhh!! You are... certainly strong..." Zikr grunted, straining to push back. "But you are merely a soldier!"
"And you are merely a man," Todd retorted, twisting his axe to ensnare Zikr's blade. "A man who, like many others, places his trust far too easily."
Todd delivered a kick to Zikr's chest, sending the General stumbling back into the burning crates.
Turning his attention to Abel, Todd declared,
"Now, let us see if you bleed."
Abel drew the sword from his hip. Although he was not a warrior of Zikr's caliber, he was far from a defenseless noble.
"You are a fool, in the end," Abel stated, his voice unwavering. "You are merely digging your own grave."
"Perhaps," Todd shrugged. "But at least I shall be the one wielding the shovel."
He lunged forward once more.
Abel parried, the clash of steel resonating through the alley. Though, Todd was relentless, employing a savage, pragmatic style that prioritized lethality over form. He resorted to every underhanded tactic imaginable.
Abel found himself swiftly forced back, his defense crumbling under the sheer ferocity of Todd's assault, as several cuts appeared on various parts of his body.
This man…
Abel thought, narrowly dodging a lethal swing aimed for his throat.
He is dangerous. Not due to his strength, but because he acts without hesitation.
Just as Todd raised his axe for a decisive blow that made Abel's eyes flare, a shadow fell over them, and an arrow struck the wall where Todd's head had been an instant before.
Todd leapt back, confronted with the specter of death, his eyes widening.
Holly stood before him, panting, her yellow-tipped hair disheveled. Behind her, Kuna had her bow drawn, an arrow aimed directly at Todd's heart.
Todd glanced at the two Shudraq warriors, then at Zikr, who was rising from the flames, furious.
He clicked his tongue in frustration.
"Tch. Too many variables..."
In a fluid motion, Todd sheathed his axe and retrieved a smoke bomb from his belt, slamming it onto the ground.
Grey smoke filled the alley alongside the fire as he took slow steps back into the haze.
"This is not over, mark my words, spider head..." Todd's voice echoed from the fog. "I shall see you again soon."
When the smoke dissipated, he had vanished, like a wisp of wind.
"You damn coward!" Kuna yelled, lowering her bow.
Zikr had rushed to Abel's side, ignorant of his own injuries.
"Your Excellency! Are you injured?"
"I am well... at least for now, my injuries are shallow," Abel sighed, sheathing his sword. He gazed at the spot where Todd had disappeared, his expression contemplative.
"That man... he could pose a significant problem."
"He is a traitor, among other things," Zikr growled. "I will uncover his identity beneath that mask and take his head myself."
"Later, Zikr——" Abel commanded.
"——At present, we have a city to save. Natsuki Subaru is engaged in combat with the second most formidable individual in Vollachia, and we cannot afford to waste any more time lest we wish to be defeated."
He turned his gaze toward the plumes of smoke rising from the gate.
"Let us hope that his stars are shining brightly today."
——————————————————
BOOM—!
CRACK-BANG—!
A cacophony of explosions tore through the air behind Natsuki Subaru, shrapnel screaming past his reinforced body as he blurred down the ravaged street at hypersonic speed.
He didn't dare look back—instinct drove his hand forward, fingers punching into the brick wall of the nearest building to arrest his momentum. He used the impact to pivot on the Y-Axis, spinning into a high, graceful arc that carried him skyward just as a torrent of searing fire blasts vaporized the wall where he'd been just before.
So far, so good. At least...
This time, he hadn't made the fatal mistake of trying to face Arakiya head-on. Instead, he was buying time—dancing on the razor's edge of survival while Abel and Zikr executed their half of the plan. He'd hoped they'd move faster, but maybe they'd hit a snag. Or maybe they were just being careful.
Unfortunate, if true.
He landed atop an abandoned carriage, the wood groaning under his weight. Cursed energy surged through his legs, and he launched himself forward a heartbeat before Arakiya's spell turned the vehicle into a fireball.
"This is really getting old…! Surely you've got to feel the same too, damn it!" he grunted through clenched teeth.
Stalling was one thing. But it came with a glaring, undeniable problem:
How does this actually end?!
He couldn't beat her in a straight fight—hence the frantic evasion. And Arakiya didn't seem the type to just give up and leave when an opponent refused to die cleanly. If anything, she was growing more focused, more intense.
It went without saying: she had dialed up her power more and more. At the start of this chaotic chase, her casual spells had struggled to pierce his reinforcement. Annoyed, she'd stopped holding back some less.
Now every blast was meant to obliterate.
"Stop squirming! It's irritating!"
She hovered midair, wreathed in a corona of violent flame—a living sun that radiated enough heat to scorch the air itself. For a close-range fighter like Subaru, it was a nightmare. Reaching her wasn't impossible, but the moment he tried, he'd be shredded by a storm of light that were quite frankly impossible to even see, let alone evade.
But close-range fighter didn't mean he was helpless at a distance.
"Just keep running, just keep—oh, crap!"
He was sprinting along the vertical face of a building when his instincts screamed.
A glint—a razor-sharp crystalline shard—was already mid-flight, aimed to bisect him at the torso.
With no time to dodge physically, he willed it aside. The Authority of Pride seized the projectile's trajectory, wrenching it off-course.
The redirected force sent it into a furious spin, transforming it into a whirling buzzsaw of crystalline that sheared through the upper half of the building in a single pass.
Massive chunks of masonry rained down which caused Subaru to tuck his body and dive through a nearby window just as the debris crashed where he'd been running
He slid across the floor of what had once been a bedroom—now a chaotic mess of upended furniture and drifting dust. As the world seemed to slow around him, objects hanging weightless in the disrupted air, he raised his right arm, pulling it back in a practiced, powerful motion.
Darkness coalesced in his grip—thickening, lengthening, solidifying into a jagged black javelin thrumming with volatile energy.
With a roar of effort, Natsuki Subaru planted his feet, torque building through his core and shoulder—
——THWOOM!
He hurled the spear of shadows not at where she was, but where she would be.
It tore through the ceiling and into the open sky, a streak of black aimed straight for the body of the blazing Spirit Eater.
For a fleeting, arrogant moment, he believed it would connect.
For a deluded heartbeat, he saw it striking true.
That moment shattered instantly.
The spear of darkness passed through her—not around, not deflected, but through, as if she had dissolved into pure, intangible light. It left no mark, no ripple, just the empty proof of its own futility.
"That's cheating!!" Subaru's voice tore from his throat, raw with frustration. "What's anyone supposed to do if you just… phase through everything?!"
His outrage was cut short. Arakiya's wand flicked, almost dismissively.
The building around him had suddenly moved.
Stone and timber groaned, warping inward like a giant fist closing—a crushing maw of architecture meant to grind him into pulp.
But Natsuki Subaru was not so easily killed.
A purple arc of cursed energy erupted from the blade in his hand, splitting the collapsing structure down its center. He burst through the opening like a bullet, boots skidding across torn cobblestone as the ground itself began to churn with Arakiya's mana.
Chunks of earth and razor-sharp crystal surged toward him—to ensnare, to impale, to overwhelm.
A memory flashed—vivid, brutal.
Reid Astrea in the trial room, a hundred perfect strikes in the span of a blink, slicing through The Witch of Envy's shadows like paper.
——SWOOSH!
His sword met stone, met crystal, met magic.
His swings were wild, untrained, a desperate mimicry of a swordsman he could never equal. But they were fast. Dozens of slashes in a fractured second turned the advancing onslaught into flying debris.
Still, some struck true. Impacts hammered into his ribs, his shoulder—bone snapping even through reinforced flesh. He grunted, blood flecking his lips.
But the pain… it clarified something.
Why was he running? What was he preserving?
He already knew—had learned in the darkest corridors of his soul—that true strength wasn't born from evasion. It was forged in confrontation. Even impossible confrontation.
A reckless, wild grin split his face.
"Even if it's impossible—I don't care! BRING IT!"
The taboo had been spoken three times already.
What was once more?
"I can Return by——"
"—Ghkk!!"
The world didn't just darken—it unraveled. His sanity was yanked backward, drowning in static, in whispers, in the bottomless gaze of the Witch. But he gritted his teeth, fingers digging into the last fraying thread of his own mind. He held on. Not to escape the madness, but to anchor himself within it.
For a moment—a fractured, infinite sliver of a moment—he saw it.
A hand of unseen violet, reaching toward him from somewhere beyond sight, beyond sense. It was not a part of him, yet it was of him.
A providence unseen, a latent law etched into the marrow of his very soul.
He witnessed its totality—not with understanding, but with recognition.
It called to him. It was him.
It begged. It yearned. It mocked. It screamed. It laughed.
It was a chorus of contradictions, a silent hymn of power and pain, doing everything and nothing at all.
The words that left his lips were not learned. They were not chosen. They were unearthed—excavated from the deepest strata of his being, a name written in the code of his very core.
"——Invisible Providence."
The air did not shake. The world did not still. But something shifted. An unseen weight settled into the space around him, a pressure without source, something that could not be seen, only felt—in the chill on the skin, in the sudden stillness of the dust, in the silent scream of the very light.
He had spoken the unspoken. And the unseen answered.
Arakiya did not understand this man. His persistence was a guttering flame in a hurricane—pointless, exhausting, illogical. There was no strategic gain, no honorable stand, just a brute refusal to die.
Enough!
She raised her wand, the simple wood humming with condensed annihilation. Flecks of gold and searing light haloed her fiery form, each spark a promise of obliteration. The air thickened, charged with the thick sensation of raw magical power about to be unleashed.
"That's enough holding bac——"
——THUD.
An impact—massive, soundless, and utterly invisible—slammed into her body.
There was no flash, no projectile, no warning. Only the violent lurch of her body through the air and the sudden, cloying stench of miasma that clung to the man below like a burial shroud.
She caught herself mid-flight, hovering unsteadily. A hand rose to her cheek, fingers brushing skin that was already darkening with a brutal, impossible bruise. Blood had been drawn, she was sure of it—— but her own flames had vaporized the dawn blood.
Her eyes, now cold and lethal, narrowed and fixed on the man standing amidst the rubble.
"You——"
That single word carried the weight of a death sentence. All restraint, all detached curiosity, evaporated. This was no longer an engagement for thill.
It was an eradication.
She would kill him. Then she would kill Vincent. That was her purpose. That was why she was here, after all.
But before the spell could leave her lips, before the sky could tear itself apart with her fury, a new voice cut through the tension—light, melodic, and utterly out of place.
"Aaaand~ that's enough playing around for now, boys and girls!"
The voice danced from a nearby rooftop, cheerful and final, as if announcing the end of a particularly rowdy recess.
Both heads snapped toward the sound—Subaru's and Arakiya's—their postures locking into instinctual readiness. One was battle-worn and bleeding defiance; the other was a poised instrument of annihilation, a rage barely suppressed.
Yet, the new presence commanded attention with an aura of absolute, effortless confidence.
Subaru's pupils sharpened, zeroing in on the figure perched casually on a fractured rooftop ledge.
Then, they contracted in shock.
White hair. Bandaged eyes.
Although smaller, far younger than he remembered—impossible, yet undeniable.
"That's…"
A name surfaced from a world away, from memories that felt both distant and desperately immediate.
The boy on the ledge tilted his head, a playful smirk touching his lips as if he could feel the weight of their recognition.
"Satoru Gojo has arrived in the building… or, well—outside the building, in this case."