The city was quiet again, but Kaien couldn't rest. The night's battle still echoed in his veins, shadows crawling at the edges of his vision, whispering faintly. The herald's roar lingered in his skull, and Ren's warning cut even sharper than the demon's claws. If you don't learn to control it, it will consume you.
Kaien found himself walking aimlessly through broken streets until the first hint of dawn bruised the sky. He knew what Ren meant by "the organization." The Demon Slayer Order—an ancient force whispered about in the alleys of ruined towns, a brotherhood that had fought the Abyss for centuries. But the rumors were double-edged: some said the Slayers were saviors, others said they were executioners who killed anything they could not control.
Kaien paused on the edge of a shattered bridge, staring at the river below. The water glimmered faintly with morning light, but his reflection was still tainted—eyes faintly glowing violet, shadows coiled at his wrist like a cuff. Was he really ready to step into their world? Would they even see him as human?
The answer came before he could decide.
A sharp whistle pierced the air. Kaien's instincts flared, and he spun, blade half-drawn. Figures emerged from the fog—four of them, cloaked in black like Ren, insignias etched across their chests. Their steps were perfectly in sync, their gazes sharp. Slayers.
The one in front was a woman, tall, her hair tied back into a braid that swung like a whip behind her. Her presence was iron—unyielding, disciplined. Her eyes locked on Kaien like a predator's.
"You are Kaien Draven?" she asked, her voice cold and clipped.
Kaien didn't answer immediately. His hand hovered over Oblivion Fang. "…Who's asking?"
The woman's expression didn't shift. "Captain Yara, Second Division, Demon Slayer Order. You're coming with us."
Kaien narrowed his eyes. "And if I don't?"
Yara's gaze hardened. "Then we take you in chains. You've already been reported. Your battles have been seen. The Abyss inside you has been measured. The Order does not wait for consent when it comes to potential threats."
The shadows at Kaien's wrist pulsed faintly as if mocking him. He hated how easily her words felt true. "I'm not your enemy."
"Not yet," Yara replied, and with a signal of her hand, the other Slayers spread out, surrounding him.
For a tense moment, Kaien considered fighting. His body tensed, shadows flickering in response to his instincts. He knew he could cut through at least one, maybe two, before the others reacted. But Ren's words came back, heavy and sharp. If you're smart, you'll come willingly.
Kaien exhaled through his teeth and released Oblivion Fang back into its sheath. "Fine. Take me."
The Slayers didn't relax, but they lowered their weapons. Yara turned sharply. "Move."
They traveled in silence, leading Kaien across abandoned streets and into the woods beyond the city. As they walked, he caught glimpses of how disciplined they were—every step aligned, their formation shifting naturally as if they had done this countless times. Kaien felt like a prisoner, but also… like he was walking into something much bigger than himself.
After hours, the trees broke into a valley. At its heart stood a fortress—dark stone walls stretching skyward, banners of the Order snapping in the wind. The Slayer Citadel. Even from a distance, Kaien could feel its presence. The air was heavy, filled with the faint hum of enchantments layered into its foundations.
The gates opened at Yara's command, and Kaien was pushed inside.
The courtyard was alive with motion. Dozens of Slayers sparred, their blades flashing in the morning sun. Some trained with weapons Kaien had never seen—whips of light, bows that fired arrows made of pure energy, hammers that glowed with runes. Every movement was precise, every strike meant to kill.
Kaien felt eyes on him as he was led through the yard. Whispers followed. He caught fragments—That's him. The Abyss-bearer. The cursed boy.
Yara ignored them, guiding him through the corridors of the fortress until they reached a chamber deep inside. The doors opened, and Kaien stepped into a hall that reeked of judgment.
At the far end sat three figures on high seats. The Council. He had heard of them in whispers—the highest authority of the Order, each said to have slain demons that dwarfed mountains. Their faces were masked by shadows, but their presence was suffocating.
Yara bowed. "Councilors. I present Kaien Draven. The one marked by the Abyss."
Kaien's fists clenched. He hated being spoken about like an object. Still, he lifted his chin, meeting their hidden gazes.
A voice, deep and resonant, rolled from the center seat. "Step forward, boy."
Kaien did. The chamber felt colder with each step.
Another voice, sharper, female, cut the air. "Your power reeks of corruption. Explain yourself. How did you come to wield it?"
Kaien hesitated. Memories flashed—Oblivion Fang, the first time the shadows had answered him, the nights he had woken to whispers clawing at his mind. He forced the images back and said evenly, "I don't know. The Abyss found me. I didn't ask for it. But I've used it to kill demons, not protect them."
A low murmur passed between the Councilors. The third voice, old and weary, finally spoke. "Intent does not absolve corruption. The Abyss twists all who touch it. You may believe you control it, but in time, it will control you. That is the fate of every bearer before you."
Kaien's chest tightened. He thought of the masked child's words. The Abyss is your master. He shook his head. "I won't let that happen."
The female Councilor leaned forward slightly. "You think willpower is enough? Foolish boy. The Abyss devours willpower first."
The central figure raised a hand, silencing her. "Still… we cannot ignore his strength. If he can resist even for a time, he may be of use."
Kaien stiffened. "Of use?"
The old voice answered. "You are a weapon, Kaien Draven. A dangerous one, yes, but weapons have their place. You will be bound to the Order. You will fight under our command, or you will be executed before your corruption spreads."
The words hit like a hammer. Bound. Controlled. Kaien felt the shadows surge in protest, hissing against his skin. He grit his teeth. "So those are my choices? Serve or die?"
The central Councilor's voice was firm. "Those are the only choices for one who carries the Abyss."
Kaien's fingers twitched at his side. His pride screamed at him to resist, to draw his blade and cut down their arrogance. But reason chained him. He was surrounded by Slayers, in the heart of their citadel. Even if he escaped, the Order would hunt him.
Slowly, Kaien forced the shadows to still. "…Then I'll fight."
The Councilors were silent for a moment. Then the old one spoke again. "So be it. But know this—you will be watched. At the first sign of surrender to the Abyss, we will not hesitate."
Chains of shadow rose from the floor, coiling briefly around Kaien's wrist before vanishing, leaving behind a faint mark glowing like a brand. A binding oath. His chest tightened at the weight of it.
Yara stepped forward. "Councilors, permission to place him under supervision?"
The central figure nodded. "Very well. Ren Kurogane has already shown interest in him. He will watch the boy. Train him. And if necessary… end him."
Kaien's head snapped up at the name. Ren. Of course.
The Council dismissed them with a wave, shadows curling back into silence. Yara gestured sharply, leading Kaien out.
As they walked the fortress halls, Kaien's thoughts churned. Bound to the Order. Watched like an animal. Trained only to be used—or destroyed.
When they stepped back into the courtyard, Ren was already waiting, leaning casually against a pillar. His eyes flicked to Kaien, then to the faint glowing mark on his wrist. A small, humorless smile touched his lips. "Welcome to the Order, Draven. Hope you like chains."
Kaien scowled. "You knew this would happen."
Ren shrugged. "Of course. But better the Order's chains than the Abyss's. At least this way, you get to keep swinging that blade a little longer."
Kaien looked down at the mark, shadows pulsing faintly beneath it. He wasn't sure if Ren was right. But one thing was certain—the path ahead had been set.
The Slayer Citadel loomed above him, filled with blades and whispers. He had stepped into their world now, bound by chains both seen and unseen. And somewhere deep in his chest, the Abyss stirred, laughing quietly, as if it already knew how the game would end.