Kazuki stood still as the last fragments of Vareon's body withered away. What remained was barely human—an outline of flesh unraveling, a spirit flickering like a candle in a storm. Vareon could no longer speak; his jaw twitched, his lips trembled, but no sound rose.
Kazuki exhaled softly, then spoke into the silence, his voice carrying weight like a verdict.
"Uncle," he said, almost gently, "your life was never perfect. None of ours are. Every life is a crooked path—full of distractions, full of weaknesses, always bending toward something we think we want."
Rain whispered around them. His words cut through it.
"You wanted strength because you were weak. That weakness consumed you. So you made your contract with the Demon King. You killed your father. You chased recognition, clawed after power. And all along, you doubted yourself. Every victory you took was shadowed by hesitation. You pretended you didn't flinch, but you did. You pretended you didn't regret, but you did. You pretended you controlled the strings… when in truth, you were just another puppet. Manipulating others, yes—but manipulated in turn by the forces above."
Vareon's single eye glistened. Whether from rain or a tear, Kazuki couldn't say.
"When you tried to step back, you couldn't—because you'd come too far. When you tried to deny, reality dragged you forward. When you tried to escape reality, it pulled you back in chains. That was the truth of you. I don't need Raizen's memories or foresight to see it. That's just… life. This cursed reality. Always someone above. Always a hand beyond the hand we think we control."
For a moment, Kazuki's gaze drifted past Vareon, toward the horizon, as if speaking to something larger. "When I was reincarnated here, I thought it was fortune. I thought it was a gift. But I learned quickly—it wasn't luck. It was necessity. Survival. I had to tear myself apart and rebuild, again and again, just to stand here. You were no different, uncle. Complex. Imperfect. Broken in your own ways. And that imperfection… is existence."
Vareon's body finally collapsed to its last form—skin peeling, soul threads snapping one by one. From his dimming eye, a single tear traced down.
Kazuki lifted his hand slowly. His expression softened, almost sorrowful, but his words were cutting steel. "So I give you this, uncle: a new chance. A new goal. Another path. You think I don't know about your second clone? Of course I do. I don't need to spell it out—you already understand what I'm saying."
He raised his arm higher, palm open toward the dying man, rain dripping from his fingertips. His face bent into a mask of tragic resolve.
"Work for me," Kazuki whispered. "And you won't hesitate."
The pose was almost holy, almost merciful. But in that moment, as Vareon's final flicker extinguished with that lone tear, something else stirred.
Inside Kazuki's soul, Elsa's voice roared, shattering the quiet:
"YOU ARE A DAMN MONSTER!"
The scene shifted. Within the theater of his spirit, Elsa stood before a twisted vision of Kazuki. Chains coiled from his arms like serpents, wrapping endlessly, aiming toward the fading shape of Vareon. Behind him, the world was drenched in crimson light, a reality pulsing with dread. Kazuki's mouth stretched—not in sorrow, but in an eldritch smile. A knowing, terrible grin.
He tilted his head toward her. "Oops. You might have caught me."
Elsa's voice cracked, trembling with horror. "You're… you're the kind of monster who can tell lies without lying. A monster who twists truth until it bends into whatever shape you need."
Kazuki only smiled. Chains rattled. The red background pulsed brighter.
Elsa's anger dissolved into silence, because there were no words left. Not for him. Not for the way he blurred sincerity with manipulation until no one—not even her—could separate them.
And then, back in the waking world, Kazuki walked away with the face of innocence. Rain streaked his features, washing away the smile that only Elsa had seen.
The empire was quiet, save for his footsteps.