Kiyoshi's pulse hammered in his ears, louder than the alarms blaring across Sublevel Two.
The containment scroll wasn't just destabilizing. It was tearing open, threads of crimson energy leaking like blood from a wound. Sparks of chakra licked the floor, carving shallow grooves in the reinforced steel.
Miya froze mid-step, her fingers brushing the air as if she could stop it by sheer will.
"This… shouldn't be happening," she muttered.
Satoru's mask was still unreadable, but his posture was sharp, ready. "We need to evacuate the area."
Kiyoshi didn't move. His eyes flared crimson, the Ketsuryūgan reacting instantly to the pulse. Every muscle in his body tensed.
"The relic…" he whispered. "…it's calling."
"Calling?" Miya repeated sharply. "Kiyoshi, step back!"
But he couldn't. Not when the energy was rising in the room, wrapping around his chest like it recognized him, like it remembered him.
Rei's voice echoed in his mind: Choose us.
Daiki's: We're right here! Don't let it take you!
Kiyoshi's eyes snapped shut.
---
The First Surge
The scroll's lid shattered completely. Crimson chakra erupted in a geyser, scattering papers, knocking over sensors, and throwing Miya and Satoru back against the walls.
The energy wasn't neutral—it had intent. Threads of it slithered through the room, searching, probing, pulsing in perfect rhythm with Kiyoshi's heartbeat.
He felt it attach to him before he even realized. A tendril of pure crimson wrapped around his arm and fused with his chakra, feeding, testing, whispering:
"You are mine. You will become what you were meant to be."
Kiyoshi screamed, and the voice in his head tried to answer:
No. I am me.
The Ketsuryūgan flared violently, spreading light like fire across his veins. Crimson energy clashed against crimson energy, the room flickering between shadow and blood-red light.
Miya staggered to her feet, shaking her head. "Impossible…"
Satoru's hands glowed with sealing chakra. "We need a containment formation! Now!"
Kiyoshi felt a pull—not from them, but from the relic itself. A tug at his soul, a calling he could not deny.
---
Rei and Daiki Intervene
Back outside the Bureau, Rei and Daiki sensed the surge before anyone spoke.
"Yeah… that's not normal," Daiki muttered, gripping his kunai. "That's like, apocalypse-level not normal."
Rei didn't joke. "It's the relic. And it's linking to Kiyoshi."
Her violet chakra flared around her hands. "We need to synchronize with him—anchor him before it consumes him completely!"
Daiki groaned but charged forward, calling out: "Oi! Kiyoshi! Snap out of it before I drag you kicking and screaming!"
Inside, Kiyoshi felt them. Their presence—real, solid, human—cut through the relic's pull. For a fraction of a second, he could breathe, his own will reasserting itself.
The crimson tendrils faltered.
But the relic didn't stop.
It twisted. Reacted. Expanded.
And then it spoke—not a whisper, not a thought, but loud, filling the entire chamber:
"The Chinoike blood calls. The heir rises. Submit or be consumed."
Kiyoshi staggered, one hand on his chest. The Ketsuryūgan burned hotter than ever, veins of crimson surging like molten metal.
"Rei… Daiki…" he rasped. "I… I can't—"
"You can," Rei said firmly. "Remember who you are. Remember us."
Daiki slammed his hands together, chakra flaring like a hammer. "I refuse to let you turn into a monster without a fight!"
The crimson energy around Kiyoshi pulsed violently, then split like a wave breaking on rock—part of it anchored by Rei and Daiki, part of it breaking free into the Bureau itself.
The room shattered under the force. Walls cracked. Sensors exploded. The floor buckled.
And the relic's energy formed a shape:
A humanoid figure, taller than any man, entirely crimson, faceless—but undeniably moving with Kiyoshi's essence.
It stepped from the wreckage, slow, deliberate, alive.
---
The Choice
Kiyoshi felt its presence inside him and outside at once.
It whispered:
"Be what you fear. Become what they cannot control. Submit."
He felt the weight of his bloodline, the whispers of ancestors, the pull of power that could erase fear, erase weakness, erase choice.
But then he felt Rei's hand in his mind, steady.
And Daiki's voice, stubborn, loud, insistent.
"You're not alone."
The crimson figure paused, sensing something it hadn't counted on. Something stronger than hunger. Something called will.
Kiyoshi's eyes snapped open.
"I… am me," he growled.
The room trembled. The figure faltered. The relic's energy hissed, twisting like a living thing desperate to survive.
Kiyoshi clenched his fists. The Ketsuryūgan burned, veins of crimson chakra exploding across his body—but this time, he controlled it.
The figure shuddered.
And for the first time since the mirror, he didn't feel afraid.