The world beyond the void was silent—too silent.
Akira stood in the center of the abandoned district, his breath slow, controlled, the faint hum of Yamitsurugi's sealed form vibrating through the pendant against his chest. The fight with the partial manifestation had drained more of his spirit than he liked to admit. His hands were steady, but his heartbeat wasn't.
Masahiro's voice lingered faintly.
> "Varek is moving faster than I expected. Be careful, Akira."
Akira clenched his jaw. "Yeah… I know."
But knowing and understanding were different things. Something about Varek's presence lingered in him like a splinter embedded too deep to reach.
Subtle. Cold. Ancient.
He walked through the empty street, shadows stretching unnaturally long around him, curling with a faint pull — like they wanted to latch onto him.
He pushed forward anyway.
---
Far away, inside a world that humans could never reach — a twisted dimension stitched from screams, mist, and fractured light — Varek moved with slow, deliberate steps.
Not hunting.
Choosing.
The dimension was built like a labyrinth of floating stone, broken memories, and giant chains anchored into the void itself. Souls hung from them — flickering silhouettes of people long gone, fragments of their former selves, suspended in eternal half-conscious agony.
But Varek wasn't here for all of them.
He scanned the hanging forms like a man inspecting weapons in a vault. His eyes were calm, emotionless, far too observant for anyone who ever touched humanity.
"This will not do…" he murmured, walking past one soul, then another. "Too weak. Too broken.
Not enough to shatter him."
He stopped at another.
"Wrong memory. He wouldn't feel this one."
He kept walking.
His coat rustled faintly, though there was no wind. His footsteps echoed over the swirling abyss below.
He passed through a corridor of chained souls, each one reacting to him—tensing, crying out, begging, reaching. None of them dared to touch him.
Then—
He stopped.
A faint hum resonated in the void.
Not from the chains.
Not from the dimension.
From her.
A figure hung gracefully at the end of the corridor, suspended by blackened chains carved with ancient sigils. Her aura wasn't dim like the others. It was still flickering with stubborn life.
Her silhouette breathed—slow, calm, unaware.
Varek's eyes softened with wicked satisfaction.
"…Perfect."
He stepped closer, tilting his head as if admiring art.
"Your connection to him runs deep," Varek whispered.
"Even after all this time… your echo still resists this place. How amusing."
He reached out and gently brushed one of the chains. They reacted instantly—jerking, rattling like they were alive. She flinched in her unconscious state.
Varek smiled.
"You will not kill him…" he said softly.
"You will break him."
His fingers trailed the air beneath her chin—never touching her, only feeling the trembling soul.
"And when the moment comes… you will be his undoing."
From below, the abyss howled softly, approving.
Then, as if remembering something trivial, Varek stepped back and said:
"…Miyuki."
The name echoed through the void like a blade pulled from its sheath.
He turned away, his boots tapping rhythmically against stone as he faded into darkness.
Behind him, the chains holding her shivered like something terrible had just awakened.
---
Back in the human world, miles away—
Akira stopped in his tracks.
A cold wind rushed past him. The pendant twitched against his chest, as if reacting to a distant cry.
His breath hitched.
Masahiro's voice whispered, unusually tense.
> "…Akira? What did you feel just now?"
Akira touched his chest. "Someone… called. I don't know why but—"
He looked up, eyes tightening.
"I think I just heard a name."
The street remained silent.
But the whisper lingered in his mind.
A name he didn't recognize.
A name that made his heartbeat stumble.
"…Miyuki."
The night swallowed the name whole.
And something in the sky shifted.