Across the battlefield, Lalo's chains lashed—and Azumi answered with steel. She dashed forward, continuing her onslaught against metal links, sparks snapping each time steel kissed steel. Lalo's chains writhed around her like serpents, coiling, snapping forward with a murderous rhythm.
"Persistent little thing," Lalo hissed, flicking her wrist.
The chains cracked like thunder.
Azumi bent backward in a low slide, the links slicing the air above her face. She surged up immediately, blade flashing as she carved through two incoming strands before they could tighten around her. Lalo staggered slightly from the recoil, but her grin only widened.
"Good! Make it interesting!"
Azumi didn't answer. She simply vanished forward, her sprint exploding into a lightning-fast dash that blurred her outline. Lalo reacted, dragging her chains taut. A humming circle of metal spun outward like a buzzsaw.
Azumi met it head-on.
Her sword crashed through the spinning links, each hit ringing out like a war drum. It slowed — caught—and with a twist of her wrist, she severed the mechanism entirely. The chain collapsed slack to the dirt.
Lalo's grin twitched.
"You're faster than you were in the sewers."
Azumi didn't break eye contact, her blade raised. "And you're weaker than I remember."
Lalo snapped, face fuming. A full dozen chains erupted from the ground below her—she leapt just before the trap could tighten around her ankles. Lalo flicked again, and two thicker chains swung at Azumi like twin iron jaws.
Azumi spun midair, slicing the first, then letting her momentum carry her feet-first into the second, kicking off it. She landed behind Lalo, blade already coming down in a vertical arc.
Lalo twisted, just barely intercepting with crossed chains wrapped around her forearms.
Even blocked, the impact blew dust outward.
Azumi felt the vibration up her arm—so did Lalo.
"Still hiding behind metal," she muttered. "I thought a stalker would be more than dead weight and noise."
The insult struck a nerve.
Lalo whipped a chain around her neck—Azumi ducked, slashing upward, cutting a long gash across her shoulder.
She reeled and Azumi pressed forward.
Her blade became a blur—a relentless series of precise, punishing strikes. Each hit forced Lalo back another step, her chains failing to keep pace with the tempo she set. Her breathing was steady. Lalo's wasn't.
With a desperate roar, Lalo slammed both palms into the ground.
The earth cracked. Three pillars of chains shot upward through the cracks, aimed directly at Azumi.
Azumi dodged the first, sliced the second—the third grazed her thigh, drawing blood.
She winced only for a second. Her eyes sharpened with an undying determination and grit.
"That all?"
She pulled her blade in close. Her stance lowered and her breath slowed.
Lalo sensed the shift. "No… don't—"
It was too late.
Azumi blurred forward in a burst of motion so sharp it carved a shockwave through the dust. Her katana cleaved through her final defensive chain; the impact shattered metal and will alike. She used the tension in Lalo's own chains to spin and drive a crushing strike into her ribs.
She crumpled, dropping to one knee, coughing air she couldn't catch.
Azumi stood over Lalo, blood trailing from her thigh, her expression chillingly calm.
Azumi's katana pierced Lalo's hand, pinning it against the ground. A shriek of pain, before Lalo grit her teeth, and looked up at Azumi in a look of hatred.
"You bitch! How's your dagger friend? The mouthy one—"
Whatever was to follow, didn't escape her lips. Azumi's katana left Lalo's hand, and lunged straight into Lalo's chest. Blood sputtered from her mouth, followed by a brief gasp.
"You got what you deserved. He's smiling down at us… can't say you'll do the same."
Azumi pushed the sword further in until the hilt grazed the wound itself. With a swift motion, she pulled it from the body and swiped the blood with the sleeve of her cloak.
Lalo fell lifelessly to the ground from her kneeling position with a thump. With one final glare, Azumi turned the other way. More stalkers had entered the battlefield through the sea of spears.
"Who would've thought? An APC soldier going back on his word…" Azumi muttered to herself as they approached.
"No matter. I'll play your little game," she finalized, swinging her katana in an outwards motion, before meeting the first head on.
Meanwhile, Tsuki engaged Shikuya with immense drive, her shadows forming at just the thought. A giant wall of black built between her and Shikuya, who shot forward with a readied fist. He threw repeated punches at the wall to no avail, before retreating temporarily.
The middle of the shadow wall faded, Tsuki launching through with an arm cocked back. Shikuya's eyes widened in shock, unable to react as Tsuki struck his chest.
He slid backward, coughing a wave of blood, before wiping it with the white sleeve of his APC uniform. Around them, the ring of spears tightened. The men still watched in daggers at each of the duels.
Shikuya straightened, forcing himself upright. "You're strong," he said through clenched teeth. "But this won't matter."
"You hesitate," Tsuki said, stepping forward, unhurried.
The ground beneath him darkened. Shadows spilled outward, wrapping his legs, tightening around his arms before he could react. He struggled then—once, twice—but the darkness held, dragging him down to one knee.
His fists trembled. Not with rage… but restraint.
Tsuki stopped in front of him, her expression steady. "You don't fight like someone who wants to win. What exactly are you doing here?"
His gaze flicked away, only briefly. That was enough.
The shadows crept higher, locking his shoulders in place, pressing him still—not crushing, nor killing. But restraining movement.
"Please… don't make me do this," Shikuya muttered to the ground, eyes refusing to meet hers. Tsuki remained close—near enough that he could feel her gaze on the back of his head.
"What's your name?"
The man remained quiet for a moment, hands trembling through the shadowed chains.
"Shikuya."
"I'm Ts—"
"You're Shadow… right?" he blurted. "You're wanted by the higher-ups… Hoshuro—"
He raised his head, eyes looking distant as if he was living a thought. "You're my key… to getting everything back!"
"Enough," Tsuki said, shadows tightening again, forcing a grunt from Shikuya in response. "You chose your side—chose to continue to believe in their lies!"
Shikuya's eyes lifted to hers. The regret he had felt only moments before had disappeared. What remained was hollowed content, acceptance.
"Did I?"
The moment his eyes locked onto hers, something shifted.
The sounds of the battlefield dulled as though submerged beneath deep water. The clash of steel, the shouts of soldiers, even the distant horn that had once shaken the courtyard—all of it stretched thin, fading into a muted hum that no longer felt real. Tsuki tried to pull away, but her body did not respond. Her breath halted in her chest.
And then the memories came.
They did not arrive gently. They tore through her mind like a storm.
She saw herself clad in APC white, kneeling before the council as cities burned in her wake. She saw her blade driving through Maro's chest, his eyes filled not with hatred—but disappointment. She saw Tona bound in chains, blood staining his scarf, while she stood beside the execution platform without protest.
Each vision overlapped the next, layering on top of one another until she could no longer separate them. Pain split behind her eyes. Her heartbeat felt divided, pounding out of rhythm.
Then the noise ceased.
Tsuki found herself standing in a barren expanse of cracked stone beneath a sky devoid of color. The air felt weightless, yet heavy in her lungs.
A figure stood before her.
It wore a long, tattered cloak that shifted in a wind she could not feel. When the fabric parted, there was no flesh beneath it—only Solena, fractured and flowing like liquid light caught in slow motion. Where a face should have been, there was only smooth, pale energy. No features. No eyes. And yet she felt its gaze.
Its arms extended outward. Behind it, reality divided. Two paths opened like wounds in the air.
To its left, a swirling void of absolute blackness churned endlessly inward, swallowing even the faint light that brushed its edge. To its right, unstable Solena twisted in violent greens and yellows, crackling as though it could not contain itself.
"This is not a place of force," the spirit said, its voice echoing from both paths at once, layered and distant. "Only decision."
Tsuki instinctively brought her hands together, summoning her shadows—but nothing answered. It was as if her connection had been severed.
"You stand at the divide," the spirit continued.
The ground beneath her shifted, and a pressure—not hands, not wind, but inevitability itself—drew her forward. She dropped to one knee before the being, resisting with every ounce of will she possessed.
The void pulled at her vision first. Without moving her body, she was thrust through it.
The battlefield reformed around her in brutal clarity.
Her shadows lashed outward without restraint, striking friend and foe alike. Azumi was caught from behind, driven violently into the stone. Geo shouted her name in panic before tendrils wrapped around his legs and hurled him across the courtyard. Hajima's body struck a pillar and fell limp.
The gardens were littered with bodies—Memento soldiers, her squadmates, motionless in the aftermath of her rampage.
She stood at the center of it all, her shadows writhing like creatures no longer under command.
A scream tore from her throat, raw and broken, as darkness consumed the scene.
She was back before the spirit. It had not moved.
Its right arm lowered slightly toward the second path, where unstable Solena roared and twisted. Again, reality shifted.
She stood once more upon the battlefield, but this time Shikuya remained in front of her—hesitant and conflicted.
His hands rose. A concentrated blast of Solena erupted forward.
She tried to move—tried to summon her shadows—but her body refused. The energy struck her squarely in the chest, heat and light swallowing her entirely.
The world dissolved. She knelt once more in the wasteland.
The spirit bent slightly, lowering itself until it hovered face to face with her. Up close, she could see that its form was not solid at all—just layers of Solena folding into one another endlessly.
"First path," it said quietly. "Or the second."
Tsuki's jaw tightened, her breathing uneven but steadying.
"Those are not the only paths," she said.
For a moment, the spirit stilled.
"Indecision is also a choice."
The two realities trembled behind it, as though awaiting collapse. Tsuki forced herself upright, despite the weight pressing down upon her.
"I choose the second," she said with gritty teeth.
The spirit regarded her in silence, then the faintest ripple moved through its form.
"You have already chosen."
The wasteland shattered like glass.
When it did, Tsuki found herself in the same position as the second path had shown—Shikuya lined up with a Solena blast heading her way. One she still couldn't brace.
It hit with force in her abdomen, a gasp escaping her lips as she tumbled back.
What in the hell was all that?
She pushed herself up—her vision steadied just enough to find Shikuya standing with uneven breaths. His eyes locked on to hers.
Tsuki's stomach tightened.
It wasn't the blast… it was the moment before it. When he looked at me.
"It's the eyes… isn't it?" Tsuki chuckled, rising to her feet.
Her opponent didn't answer cleanly. His eyes shifted toward her again, daggered and quick to catch her off guard. This time, Tsuki glanced away with a speck of pride.
Eye contact puts you under a trance… interesting.
She launched forward, holding her sight on his legs as a pinpoint. Shikuya met her head on, and they traded a series of blows.
His strike came first—a sweeping burst of Solena aimed at her ribs. Tsuki dipped under it, stepping inside his range and driving her palm toward his chest. He twisted just enough to lessen the impact, his knee snapping up in return and clipping her thigh. She slid back, boots scraping stone, never once lifting her gaze higher than his collarbone.
He circled her carefully, breathing heavier now.
"You think that's enough?" he asked. "Looking away?"
Tsuki ignored the taunt. She watched his shoulders instead—the tension before release. The shift of weight. Learning the pattern, like she was diagnosing him.
He lunged again, this time faster. She pivoted to the side, but as she moved, she caught the faintest edge of his stare—
The world rippled.
Not fully, just enough to warn her.
Tsuki slammed her palm into the ground. Shadows erupted between them, severing the connection before it could root. The distortion snapped away like a stretched cord released.
Too close… I can't get careless.
Shikuya landed lightly a few feet away, frustration flashing across his face.
"You can't fight blind forever," he said.
Tsuki steadied her breathing, abdomen still aching from the earlier blast.
"I don't need your eyes," she replied evenly. "I just need to keep you from mine."
That pause—small but real—was all she needed.
She darted forward again, closing the distance aggressively this time. Her hand shot toward his collar, shadows snapping around his forearm to restrict it. She drove into him, shoulder pressing against his chest, forcing his chin upward—still looking just beneath his eyes.
"You rely on it," she muttered. "That's your flaw."
His Solena flared in retaliation, blasting her backward in a violent shockwave. She skidded across broken stone, catching herself before she fell fully.
When she rose, he was breathing harder. And for the first time—he seemed uncertain.
"You've used it twice," she said calmly, rolling her shoulders back. "And both times, you needed that moment."
Her shadows coiled tighter at her feet.
"You don't like fighting without it."
The wind shifted between them. Shikuya's eyes narrowed.
"Then look at me," he said softly.
Tsuki didn't. She lowered her chin slightly, grounding herself.
He squared himself, inviting her in for another clash. She followed suit, her boots digging into the ground and fists readied.
But something else entirely caught her eye.
From behind Shikuya, the APC soldiers swarmed inwards. Azumi and Valera fought desperately to hold them back, but the sheer numbers were against them.
Hatori and the purple haired stalker had fought to a standstill, both out of breath. Around her, squadmates were beginning to waver. Tobamako was overpowering Geo and Hajima together, forcing them steadily backward.
"Please," Shikuya said quietly. "Surrender. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Tsuki met his eyes—a real look this time. They no longer held the glow of when he used his ability, instead, sincerity took its place.
Behind him, the rest of Judgment, Hajima and Valera were still slowing down. Tsuki grit her teeth, shadows forming at the feet.
"Still you insist on fighting… why?" Shikuya asked.
Tsuki hesitated a moment, before her hands readied again at her sides. A lone breath escaped her lips, before she stared directly into his eyes in a challenge.
"Because I'll be damned if I'd bend on a knee to the APC—to Hoshuro's lackeys ever again."
Shikuya raised his eyebrows in surprise—and that was before the ground began to rumble.
Booms grew closer with each second. The streets were empty leading into the crowded garden. Whatever was making the noise seemed to be coming from somewhere around the bend of the surrounding buildings.
"What is that?" Tsuki asked quietly, eyes pointing to a distant, tired Geo who shrugged.
"Isn't me," he said flatly from the ground, his voice carrying through a now silent battlefield.
A black shadow slid along the ground between the alleys of nearby houses. It was impossible to miss—obsidian shaded, and unnaturally reflective.
"What the hell kind of trump card you got, Memento?" Tobamako boomed. "You bring a pet?"
The words were followed with quiet. Eerie, unreadable silence. Nobody dared to move a muscle.
Then, the shadow busted forward through the streets, slithering forward into the sea of APC soldiers.
"Forward, Viesanoo!" a voice shouted from atop the monstrous snake.
Naru!
The obsidian snake hissed loudly, swallowing men whole and lashing its tail around swiftly. Naru stood near its head with a lazy smile.
"Heard you needed some help," he said casually. "Thought I'd swing by and play your savior."
From behind him, hundreds of men rounded the corner, all bearing the Memento phoenix across their cloaks. At the helm, Danzo marched with runes readied.
"Forward, Memento!" he shouted, raising a hand and motioning it outward.
Screams followed, and Tsuki couldn't help but sigh in relief. Over her head, Beaky circled proudly, flapping its wings in powerful gusts toward the ground.
The infiltrators found a rejuvenation too, each reengaging with their opponents in continued clashes. Shikuya's eyes widened, as Tsuki launched forward. Her gaze followed his limbs, avoiding the returned glow of his irises, begging for a glance.
They traded blows, moving too quick for the ordinary eye to visualize. Each punch now a statement—defiance in its purest form.
"They've got my back," Tsuki said mid-punch, her knuckles landing square through Shikuya's sternum. "Who's got yours?"
She turned as Shikuya fell to the ground, wincing from the strike. Memento forces rampaged forward, APC soldiers falling in droves.
Shikuya coughed, a drip of blood rolling from his lip as he stared into the ground.
"Nobody," he managed, followed by another cough. "Trust is for those who can't handle their problems alone."
He pushed himself upward, wincing again. "The two I trust are being beaten into submission. Held against their will so I cooperate—tell me, do you think I chose to fight? For them?"
Tsuki didn't answer. The sounds of war rang through her ears, but she paid no attention to them.
"You think we don't know you, Tsuki? Shadow? You escaped—betrayed everything you ever knew, but escaped!"
His voice raised in a tone Tsuki couldn't recognize.
Is that… anger? Sorrow?
"Some of us don't get that. You're the lucky exception… one who doesn't need to be threatened with death. One who doesn't have to watch the two people they love most executed for insubordination!"
Shikuya launched himself forward in a desperate swing, but Tsuki countered with a jab to his chest, making him fall in pain.
"I'm sorry," Tsuki said quietly, already turning towards Memento. "I truly am."
Shikuya tried to push himself upward, but his body gave out. Tsuki gave him one last look—his eyes no longer dreaded, only tired. Unwilling to do the APC's dirty work, yet forced.
The shadows pooled below her feet, pulling her inwards as she disappeared from Shikuya's sight.