The street outside the school was choked with the smell of exhaust and the distant, rhythmic wail of sirens. Hikari was a small, frantic shape weaving through the crowd until she saw him.
"Oh, big brother! You actually came!"
She didn't run; she launched. The impact of her hitting his chest nearly rattled his still-knitted ribs. She clung to him like a person drowning, her fingers digging into the fabric of his new hoodie.
Renji stood still for a heartbeat, the weight of her reality grounding the cold, jagged power humming in his veins. He put a hand on her head. "Why would I ever leave you? Come on. Let's go."
He took her hand. It was small and warm. His own felt different—harder, more distant. He looked toward the horizon, past the city skyline, toward the salt-scent of the western coast.
"I have something I need to protect," he said. The words were quiet, meant more for the shadows than for the girl. I lost my mother. I'm not losing the only man I have left.
Tsushima Island:
The air on Tsushima didn't feel like Earth. It was thick, tasting of copper and ozone.
Slash. A Hunter's blade cleaved through a chitinous limb. The Portal was a massive, bleeding tear in the sky, pulsing with a sickly violet light. Beasts—mostly C-Ranks, twitching and mindless—poured out like a flood.
"Fireborn is on his way!" someone screamed over the wet sounds of slaughter
"Just hold the line!"
"The line is breaking!" Kenjiro shouted back, his dual blades a blur of silver and ichor.
"We're killing them, but the Gate isn't closing. It's too stable. We need to hit the source!"
"Leave it to me."
The voice was like a stone dropped into a well—deep, heavy, and final.
Kaelith Fireborn stepped through the line of exhausted Hunters. He didn't look at them. He looked at the rift. Without a word, he ignited, his body wrapped in a sheath of violet flame, and plunged into the Portal.
The other side was a wasteland of jagged obsidian and red mist. Hundreds of beasts were stampeding toward the exit, but Kaelith's eyes moved past them. On a distant ridge sat a figure—a Mage, his hands raised, weaving the threads of the dimensional tear.
"The source," Kaelith muttered.
He moved, a streak of purple fire cutting through the grey air. But the distance didn't close. Four shapes materialized out of the mist, blocking his path. B-Ranks.
"You disturb the work, human," rasped a creature encased in black, oily metal. The Iron Carapace.
Kaelith skidded to a halt, his flaming sword held low. "What do you want with Earth?"
A slender, shadow-like entity with tendrils that seemed to suck the light out of the air—the Whispering Shade—let out a wet chuckle. "Hahaha. Are you the one? The Human Monarch?"
"No," Kaelith said. He adjusted his grip, his gaze unwavering. "But I am the father of the one who is."
Flashback:
Months ago, Kaelith had stood in a drafty, lightless tower, facing a man who looked older than time itself.
"I just want to find him, father," Kaelith had said, his voice uncharacteristically small.
Aelion, his father, leaned on a staff made of twisted driftwood. He had looked into Kaelith's eyes, and for a moment, the room had vanished, replaced by a vision of a boy standing atop a mountain of white bone.
"Do not worry for him," Aelion had whispered. "He is becoming the Lord of the universe. The Monarch. He will find you when the world breaks."
The Present
The Whispering Shade hissed. "The father of the Monarch? Then we will make sure you never leave this grave."
Kaelith's aura flared. The heat cracked the stone beneath his boots. "Try."
"Leave him alone!"
The voice didn't come from the wasteland. It came from the Portal. It wasn't a shout; it was a command that flattened the air.
A figure erupted from the rift. The speed was predatory, a blur of motion that ended with Renji standing between the monsters and his father. The green light of his aura was so intense it turned the red mist to ash.
Renji looked back. His eyes were wide, the cold Monarch mask slipping for a fraction of a second. "Dad?"
Kaelith stared. He didn't see the boy who used to hide in his shadow. He saw a man-shaped storm. "Kerry?"
"Yeah," Renji said, his voice cracking. "It's me."
Kaelith stepped forward and pulled him into a crushing hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Renji's hair. "I'm so sorry for everything."
The invaders didn't give them a moment. The Whispering Shade cackled. "Emotional. Predictable. So, you're the Monarch? The King of nothing?"
Renji gently pushed his father back. He stepped forward, his face settling into a mask of cold, absolute authority. He didn't draw a sword. He simply extended his hand, his fingers curling as if plucking strings from the air.
"From ash and bone, answer my call."
The ground didn't just crack; it screamed.
"Venerated Knight. Gashadokuro. Awaken."
From the shadow beneath Renji's feet, the Knight rose, soot-black plate armor grinding. Then, the earth exploded. The Gashadokuro didn't climb out; it erupted, a thirty-foot mountain of shadow-wreathed bone that made the B-Rank entities look like insects.
Beside them, Kaelith didn't stay still. He tapped into the Draconic Soul. A deep, royal purple aura wrapped around him, coalescing into scales of light.
Four against four.
"Annihilate them," Renji said.
The battle was a cacophony of breaking bone and screaming metal. The Knight slammed into the Iron Carapace, claymore meeting black plate in a shower of sparks.
The Gashadokuro swung its massive axe, the blade carving a trench through the obsidian floor as it chased the Whispering Shade.
Kaelith met the Flesh Shaper and the Zephyr Striker. He moved with the practiced grace of an S-Rank, his purple fist meeting a clawed hand with the force of a detonating bomb.
BOOM.
The Flesh Shaper's arm vanished into a spray of purple sparks.
Renji focused on the Zephyr Striker. The creature was fast—faster than the wind. It swung a curved scimitar at Renji's throat, a strike meant to end the fight before it began.
Renji didn't dodge. He raised two fingers.
KRRRAAACK.
He caught the B-Rank blade between his index and middle finger. The metal shattered into dust.
This is it, Renji thought. The power I bought with blood.
The Striker froze, staring at the hilt in its hand. Renji didn't wait. He vanished into a Shadow Cloak, reappearing behind the creature and driving a fist into its spine. The sound of the impact echoed across the wasteland.
"Look out!" Kaelith yelled.
The Whispering Shade had slipped past the Gashadokuro. A whip of dark, spiritual energy lashed out, wrapping around Renji's throat and chest. It didn't hit his skin; it hit his soul.
Renji roared. Using his raw, 54 Strength, he grabbed the spiritual whip with his bare hands and ripped it apart like wet paper.
He was in the air, vulnerable for a split second. The Iron Carapace saw the opening and launched a shard of its metallic skin—a razor-edged projectile aimed at Renji's skull.
CLANG.
A purple shield of dragon-scales intercepted the shard inches from Renji's face.
"Watch your flanks, Kerry!" Kaelith shouted, his back to Renji's. "We fight as one!"
Renji landed, his boots skidding on the stone. He looked at his father. For the first time, the distance was gone. The boy and the man were gone. There were only two Monarchs, standing in the center of the storm.
"Right," Renji said, his eyes burning green.
"As one."