Nujah raised his hand to knock—
but the door creaked open before he could.
He stepped inside slowly. The air was heavy.
> "I'm sorry for the delay," he said softly. "But I'm here now.
Child… where are you?"
A faint voice echoed from the far end of the massive estate—
from a living room nearly 70 meters deep.
He followed it.
> "I came unarmed.
I'm only here to talk…
Mitra."
He stepped in and froze.
At the other end of the room, beneath the pale moonlight,
stood a girl with blazing golden flames coursing through her veins.
They wrapped her body like a curse—
and across her face, a demonic mask glowed.
She stood, eyes fixed on the moon.
Her voice, when it came, was cracked and heavy.
> "Minutes… hours… days… years.
Do you know how long I waited for you, Father?"
She turned slightly, pain in her voice.
> "And for what?
So you could run again?
"Our lives were already a pain in the ass. What's a little more?"
Her tone hardened.
> "Liar."
Nujah narrowed his eyes.
> "Watch your mouth, child.
You may not take me seriously,
but you'll show respect to what others carry in silence."
Mitra didn't let him finish.
> "You died ten years ago."
She drew her blade—
and in a flash, lunged straight for the core in his chest.
But Nujah was faster.
With his right hand, he caught her blade mid-air—
his left grabbing her throat.
With a single motion, he threw her across the room.
Before she could rise, he charged—fist after fist aimed at her mask.
> "WAKE UP!"
One blow.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
Fifty.
A hundred—
A thousand strikes.
Still… nothing.
Then, with a growl, Mitra activated gravity magic.
In a sudden burst, Nujah was launched back—
slamming into the ground, unable to resist the crushing force.
Panting, trembling, he forced words out:
> "Please… stop this before you do something irreversible.
This rage… it's using you. Controlling you—"
Before he could finish, a blow cracked his skull.
He tried to cry out—but the sound died in his throat.
Another strike followed, this one aimed for his core.
Just then—
the others arrived.
Dozens of children rushed in, screaming in panic.
They clung to Mitra's arms, legs, pleading.
Maria dashed toward Nujah, trying to heal him—pulling him away.
> "We can't leave her like this," Nujah groaned.
"She's not just a threat to us—
She's a danger to Mother… to Shinrei itself."
But Maria was shaking.
> "Zero always takes the biggest blow…
And neither of us is zero today.
We have to go. Now!"
Nujah's voice turned cold.
> "We can't let her go."
He grabbed Maria's wrist.
> "Take a shard of my soul. From the core."
She paled.
> "What the hell are you saying?!"
> "Take a sliver. Just a piece—pull it out.
Use it with your illusion spell.
If you don't, we'll all die here. You. Me. Our siblings."
Maria's hands trembled.
But she obeyed.
Reaching into his core, she yanked out a tiny fragment of his soul.
Nujah staggered—
but stood tall again.
> "You're no ordinary trickster, Maria.
You're our mother's.
When I say now—
you'll get everyone out of here with that spell."
Maria nodded shakily, touching her temple.
A temporary enslavement glyph flared across her skin.
She wouldn't be able to refuse.
---
At the same time, in the heart of the room—
Herinhard, Vercurius, Ren, Mabaki, and Muzan surrounded Mitra.
Their voices clashed in chaos and desperation:
> "Mitra, this isn't you—!"
"The mask is consuming you!"
"He's not your enemy!"
"You've waited too long to throw it away now!"
"Please… come back."
---
And then—
"NOW, MARIA!"
Nujah's voice shattered the room.
The spell exploded like a burst of wind—