"Mom is dead too!"
A cold voice echoed through the trees, a flat statement devoid of emotion.
"I thought you'd try to save her!"
Aoki's face was calm, his golden eyes steady. He looked up.
A young man with white hair stood in the air, suspended by silken threads. His long hair hid his left eye, his robes bore a spiderweb pattern.
Lower Moon Five, Rui.
"Parents who can't protect their children don't deserve to exist!"
Rui's voice was chillingly detached, his gaze fixed on Aoki.
The traitor could kill demons. He'd seen it himself.
Thump, thump!
Snow flew, disturbed by the descent of two more demons.
A female demon landed to Rui's left, her white hair tied back, her face meek, subservient. To his right, a towering figure crashed down, a grotesque fusion of muscle and spider, a nightmare made flesh.
Rui's "sister" and "father."
Aoki ignored them. His attention remained on Rui, the source of the corruption, the center of this twisted web.
He was a broken thing, this boy.
Demons didn't form groups.
Tamayo had said it was because Muzan feared they'd turn on him.
It sounded absurd, but it fit Muzan's paranoia.
Rui was an exception.
He shared a past with Muzan, a childhood spent weak, sick, confined to a bed. Muzan had taken a special interest in him, a kinship forged in suffering.
Turned into a demon, Rui killed his parents. Then, he desperately sought the bonds of family, building a twisted imitation, a grotesque parody of love.
He couldn't understand human emotion. He used fear and power to control his "family," a reign of terror disguised as affection.
Disobedience was met with torture, with the slow burn of sunlight on exposed skin.
As Rui grew stronger, he forgot his human life. He became more empty, a hollow shell driven by a desperate need for connection.
Pitiful, tragic, hateful, and pathetic.
In a way, he was a mirror reflecting the tragedy of all demons.
Except for Muzan.
"Before we fight, I want to ask something."
Aoki spoke. "What happened to Lower Moon Six and Lower Moon Four?"
"They failed. The Master executed them," Rui said, his voice flat, devoid of remorse.
Aoki frowned.
Muzan was as brutal as ever.
He didn't care about his demons' lives. But two Lower Moons were gone. His task had grown harder.
"Did Muzan appoint new Lower Moon Six and Lower Moon Four?" Aoki asked.
"How dare you speak the Master's name?"
Rui's face twisted in anger. He hissed, swung his arm.
Five threads of silk sliced through the air, a sharp crack that echoed through the trees.
"Those tricks won't work on me."
Aoki's face was calm. His arm moved, a swift, dismissive gesture.
Thump!
The threads snapped, their deadly potential erased in an instant.
"You've grown stronger. Show me what you can do."
Rui's fingertips bled. Blood seeped into the silk, turning the threads crimson.
"Don't hurt my family!"
The demon father roared. He charged Aoki, a brute force unleashed.
"Get out of here!"
Aoki's leg snapped up, a high-arcing kick that blurred through the air.
The demon father raised his arms to block. His head snapped back, his neck broken. He flew away, a broken puppet tumbling through the snow.
"A chance!" The demon sister's eyes lit up. She lifted her hand, ready to unleash her webs.
Then, golden eyes turned to her, a cold, silent judgment.
She flinched. A fist filled her vision, growing larger, faster.
Thump!
Her head exploded, a burst of crimson against the white.
Kill the minions before the boss. Standard procedure.
Aoki's eyes were cold, his hand a blade.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
The demon sister's body shattered, a pile of broken pieces scattered on the snow.
Then, the world shifted.
Crimson threads appeared, a deadly web that surrounded Aoki, a prison of blood.
Rui wove a net of silk between his hands, his face a mask of cold detachment. "Blood Demon Art: Murderous Eye Cage."
"Aoki Style, Tempest!"
Aoki charged, a human tank tearing through the silken prison.
His fists were cut, bleeding. His body was scored with wounds.
They healed quickly, a testament to his demonic power.
Rui's eyes narrowed.
The traitor had grown strong.
He swung his hands, ten crimson threads lashing out at Aoki.
Aoki grinned, a flash of teeth in the darkness. He reached out, grabbed the threads.
Crack!
His left hand was severed. His right hand was cut, bleeding. But he held the threads.
"Damn!" Rui's face flickered.
Before he could react, Aoki yanked the silken threads, a brutal tug-of-war.
Rui fell from the sky, pulled towards Aoki, a puppet on a broken string.
Aoki crouched, the snow exploding beneath his feet. He launched himself upwards, a human cannonball aimed at the heavens.
The distance closed in an instant.
Rui flicked his fingers, weaving a web in front of him, a fragile shield against the storm.
Aoki didn't care. He pulled back his fist, his body a drawn bow, his power focused on a single point.
Thump!
Half of Rui's head exploded, a burst of gore against the sky.
Aoki landed on a branch, a fleeting moment of balance before he launched himself again.
Rui spun through the air, his body broken, his control shattered. His fingers flicked, sending threads flying, anchoring him to the world.
Aoki dropped from the sky, landed on a thread. He used the silk as a spring, propelled himself forward, a desperate chase through the air.
He caught Rui.
This time, their positions were reversed. Aoki above, Rui below.
"Aoki Style, Death's Grip!"
Aoki's fist slammed down.
Death's Grip. A chain of blows, a relentless storm. It adapted to the enemy, grew stronger with every strike, a dance of death that never ended.
Rui relied on his threads, but he knew close combat. He was skilled, deadly.
They traded blows, a furious dance of death in the falling snow.
Aoki pressed his advantage, using his position, using the relentless power of Death's Grip.
He broke Rui's defense. Then, his moves shifted. He unleashed Tempest.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
Rui's body shattered, broken by the storm. Blood sprayed, painting the snow crimson.
They were falling. Aoki prepared to end it.
Then, a shadow lunged from the side.
"Don't hurt my family!"
The demon father roared, a wounded beast defending its young. He slammed into Aoki, a brutal force that knocked him away.
Rui used the chance to escape. Crimson threads spun, weaving a cocoon around him, a desperate shield against the storm.
"Get out of my way!"
Aoki ripped the demon father off, spun, hurled him.
The demon's body met the cocoon of silk, a grotesque offering to a dying god.
The threads pierced the demon father, kept flying.
Aoki braced himself, held up his arms. He shattered the threads, a desperate defense against a crimson rain. Many got through. Small cuts opened on his skin, a stinging reminder of his mortality.
They healed fast, a testament to his demonic power.
The silk faded. Aoki looked for Rui.
He was gone.
---
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