Ren's hands were still shaking.
Even after waking from the seal's inner world, his fingers trembled like they weren't sure they belonged to him anymore. Ayaka kept a steady arm wrapped around his back, guiding him to sit on a low wooden crate near the campfire ring. The fire wasn't lit, but the circle of stones felt like the closest thing to solid ground in the whole valley.
Hiro paced in frantic circles. "Okay, so bad news: Ren almost spiritually evaporated. Good news: he didn't. Bad news again: he almost did."
"Hiro," Ayaka snapped without looking up, "stop talking."
"Right. Copy that. Silent mode engaged."He continued pacing—just quietly.
Kurogane knelt on Ren's other side, studying him with a grimness that made Ren feel even worse. "Describe everything you saw. Every detail matters."
Ren ran a hand through his hair, unsure where to start. "It wasn't a normal dream. It felt… structured. Like a memory palace. But corrupted."
Ayaka frowned. "Memory of what?"
"That's the problem," Ren said. "They weren't my memories. They were someone else's. Maybe the god's. Maybe the vessel before me."
Kurogane stiffened. "You spoke to the fragment, didn't you?"
Ren nodded slowly. "It didn't show itself fully. Just… a shape. A presence with weight."
Ayaka grabbed his hands before he could start clutching his chest again. "Did it try to control you?"
"It didn't need to." Ren exhaled shakily. "It spoke like it already owned me."
Ayaka's jaw clenched so hard Ren thought she'd crack a tooth. "You're not owned. Not by it. Not by anyone."
Ren didn't correct her, even though part of him wasn't sure that was true.
Kurogane rose to his feet. "The Merging is accelerating. We must act fast."
Hiro stopped pacing. "Can we not skip straight to the 'Ren merges with eldritch god' ending? I was hoping for more chapters before the apocalypse."
Ayaka ignored him. "What do we do, Professor?"
Kurogane hesitated.
Ayaka sensed it immediately. "Kurogane. We don't have time for dramatic pauses."
"The ritual I'm thinking of," he said carefully, "is not a ritual in the traditional sense. It's not something external. It's something Ren must do with help."
Ren frowned. "With whose help?"
Kurogane looked directly at Ayaka.
Ayaka blinked back. "Me?"
Ren's heartbeat stuttered—his real one. "Wait… why her specifically?"
Kurogane folded his arms. "Because she stabilizes you. Your resonance responds to her presence more than anything else."
Hiro raised a hand. "Hold up. So Ayaka is basically Ren's… what's the word… anti-possession shield?"
Ayaka glared. "Don't reduce it to that."
Ren felt heat rise in his cheeks. "It's not just that. It's… something else."
Ayaka blinked at him in surprise.
Kurogane cleared his throat, pretending not to notice. "Regardless, Ayaka is the key. If Ren's identity is slipping, she must reinforce it."
Ren tensed. "What does that mean in practice?"
"Your anchor must strengthen the boundary between you and the seal," Kurogane explained. "Emotionally. Mentally. Physically."
Hiro made a choking sound. "Phys—okay, wow, the tension is real."
Ayaka kicked Hiro in the shin without breaking eye contact with Kurogane. "Ignore him. Just tell me what to do."
Kurogane nodded. "Ren needs a grounding point. Something strong enough to push back the fragment's influence. Something undeniable. Something the seal cannot overwrite."
Ayaka didn't waver. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Ren looked at her—really looked at her. She had dirt smudged across her cheek. Hair frizzed from stress. Eyes exhausted. But her stance was steady, her presence solid. She wasn't running. She wasn't hesitating.
She was choosing him.
And that did something inside his chest that the seal did not like.
A pressure pulsed—painful, sharp—like the seal was pushing against her influence.
Ren winced.
Ayaka grabbed his wrist. "Ren?"
He met her gaze. "It hates you."
Ayaka lifted her chin. "Good."
"It's trying to push you out of my mind."
"Then I'm pushing back."
She placed her hands on either side of Ren's face, forcing him to look only at her.
"Ren," she said slowly, like talking to someone on the edge of panic. "Listen to me. You are here. Right now. With us. The seal isn't you. The memories aren't you. I don't care what that thing says."
Ren swallowed. "Ayaka… the guardian's attack—when it hit me, I felt something break."
"That's why I'm here," she whispered. "To put the pieces back where they belong."
Her forehead touched his.
The second heartbeat faltered.
Not much—but enough.
Kurogane nodded approvingly. "Good. She's naturally aligning him again."
Hiro whispered, "Is it weird I'm proud of them? Like, emotionally proud?"
Ayaka ignored everyone else. "Ren. Say your name."
He blinked. "Why?"
"Say it."
"…Ren."
"Full name."
"Ren Arashida."
"Again."
"Ren Arashida."
Her voice stayed steady, almost commanding. "Who are you?"
"I'm…"He swallowed."I'm me. I'm Ren."
"Not a god?"
"No."
"Not a vessel?"
Ren hesitated.
Ayaka gripped his shoulders. "Not a vessel."
Ren forced the words out. "Not a vessel."
The seal bucked violently beneath his ribs—but Ayaka's hold only tightened.
She glared at nothing, speaking directly to the presence inside Ren. "Do you hear that? He isn't yours."
A low rumble rolled through the air.
Ren stiffened. "Ayaka… don't provoke it."
"I'll provoke whatever I want," she snapped. "I'm sick of things trying to claim you."
Ren felt emotion tighten in his chest—his emotion, not the seal's. Relief. Fear. Something warmer.
Ayaka tilted his chin up. "Look at me."
He did.
Every time.
"You're Ren Arashida," she said. "You're afraid. You're stubborn. You forget lunch on digs. You trip on rocks. You hum when you're focused. You're terrible at mornings. And you're—"
She cut herself short.
Ren blinked. "I'm what?"
Ayaka didn't answer.
Her cheeks warmed.Hiro's eyes widened.Kurogane pretended to adjust his glasses.
Ren whispered, "Ayaka…?"
But before she could finish—
—moonlight chilled the air.
The fog brightened with silver shimmer.
Ayaka's eyes narrowed instantly. "Oh, absolutely NOT."
Yurei appeared at the edge of the camp, walking calmly across the ground like she floated instead of stepped. Her silver hair drifted around her shoulders, moonlight clinging to her like she was made of it.
Hiro groaned. "Please tell me the valley has a 'no moon ladies allowed after 6 PM' rule."
Yurei ignored him completely.
She kept her gaze fixed on Ren.
"You slipped," she said softly. "I felt it."
Ren's stomach dropped. "Stay where you are."
Yurei's expression flickered—sadness, longing, frustration all tangled into one. "You were pulling away from me. You shouldn't do that. It hurts both of us."
Ayaka stepped in front of Ren, blade drawn. "He doesn't belong to you."
Yurei's eyes cooled. "You do not understand the depth of our bond."
Ayaka didn't blink. "He doesn't want your bond."
Yurei looked directly at Ren. "Is that true?"
Ren froze.
Ayaka's grip on his wrist tightened.
The seal pulsed.
Yurei extended a gentle hand. "Ren. Don't let fear choose your path. Let truth choose it."
Ayaka stood between them like a wall. "He already chose."
Yurei's voice softened dangerously. "He hasn't. Not fully."
Ren felt the pressure building inside him again—two pulls, opposite directions, tearing at him until his body trembled.
Ayaka grabbed his shoulders. "Ren—stay with me. I'm right here."
Yurei extended her hand farther. "Come to me."
Ren's vision blurred.
He couldn't breathe.
Ayaka's voice lost in noise.Yurei's voice drowned in static.The seal roared inside his skull—
Ren screamed.
The world twisted.
And then…
Everything went dark.