Far from the csh of warriors, beyond the reach of the Chūkan’s ethereal glow, another battlefield was already taking shape.

  One built not on honor or strength, but on something far more insidious.

  Darkness loomed over the chamber.

  A cold, sterile light flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the walls lined with containment units.

  Inside each one—cores.

  Hundreds of them, humming faintly with untapped power, their glow pulsating like captive hearts, waiting to be unleashed.

  The air was thick with a strange pressure, suffocating in its intensity.

  Kuroda stood at the center of it all, his expression unreadable.

  Yet, there was a distinct glint in his eyes—something close to amusement.

  He ran a hand over one of the cores, feeling the raw energy encased within.

  And then, just past them, on a separate pedestal, a vial of deep crimson liquid gleamed under the dim lights.

  “It’s almost time,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against the gss.

  “For my awakening… and for the world’s.”

  A measured voice broke through the silence.

  “Lord Kuroda.”

  Kuroda didn’t turn.

  He had already sensed Yasuke’s presence long before he spoke.

  The st of his elite. The only one left standing.

  Yasuke knelt, his gaze locked downward, unreadable but composed.

  Yet, Kuroda could see it—how his body was just a little stiffer than usual.

  The tiniest shift in his posture.

  Yasuke wasn’t scared, no. But he understood.

  He understood what had happened to Tenzan.

  He had seen what Kuroda had done.

  And he knew—there was no telling what this man would do to him if he ever outlived his usefulness.

  “Report,” Kuroda ordered smoothly.

  “Jin, Raigo, and Katsuro remain unaccounted for. The ones who fought them—Ren, Akira, Yumi, Watari, and Ryuko—have also vanished without a trace. We’ve confirmed that they were caught in the bst… but there were no bodies.”

  “Mm,” Kuroda hummed, rolling the vial of blood between his fingers.

  “And what of Chizuru?”

  “She’s still carrying out her mission as pnned, waiting on your word before she acts.”

  Yasuke then took a pause, giving a hard swallow.

  “Also… Tenzan’s transformation… it’s progressing rapidly.”

  Yasuke chose his words carefully.

  “He is no longer recognizable as himself. The process has stripped him of everything, reduced him to… something else. He is unstable, and he has begun to sh out indiscriminately. Keeping him contained will not be possible for much longer.”

  The weight of his own statement pressed against his chest. Even for Yasuke, who had stood at Kuroda’s side for years, witnessing Tenzan’s transformation was something else entirely.

  Kuroda, however, merely smirked. A slow, deliberate expression that sent a chill crawling up Yasuke’s spine.

  “Good,” Kuroda murmured, his voice a near-whisper, yet somehow suffocating in its certainty. “That’s good.”

  Yasuke remained silent, his fingers curling slightly against his knee.

  He had long stopped questioning Kuroda’s motives, but even now, even with all the horrors he had witnessed—this was different.

  The Musabori had followed Kuroda out of loyalty, out of ambition, out of the promise of power.

  But power meant nothing when the one granting it saw you as nothing more than a piece in his grand design.

  Tenzan had been proof of that.

  And now, Yasuke was beginning to understand—sooner or ter, his turn would come too.

  Kuroda’s fingers traced the surface of the vial once more before he set it down with a soft clink.

  “He’ll be ready for his walk soon.”

  Yasuke’s breath hitched. His fingers curled slightly against his knee, the tension in his shoulders barely restrained.

  Kuroda noticed.

  Of course, he did.

  With an unhurried stride, Kuroda approached, his presence pressing against Yasuke like an unseen force. And then, with a sickeningly casual ease, he reached down, cupping Yasuke’s cheek with the back of his fingers.

  A gesture that could have been mistaken for kindness—if not for the unbearable weight behind it.

  His touch was cold.

  “And remember, my dear Yasuke,” Kuroda murmured, his voice ced with something venomous yet sickeningly sweet, “if you ever fear that this will happen to you…”

  His fingers tapped lightly against Yasuke’s cheek, just once.

  “Just make sure you always do a good job.”

  A moment of silence.

  Yasuke’s breath was steady. His will unwavering.

  But deep down, something twisted inside him.

  “Understood, my lord.”

  The faint clink of gss.

  A vial of blood pulsed faintly in Kuroda’s grasp.

  “Soon.”

  Cut to bck.