The silence upon the moon was absolute, so complete and unnatural that it felt as though sound itself had been erased from existence, leaving behind an enormous emptiness where even the smallest disturbance should have traveled endlessly across the gray lunar wasteland. No wind moved across the barren surface, no distant signs of life could be heard beyond the horizon, and no warmth existed beneath the endless ocean of stars that stretched above the darkness of space, with only the distant blue sphere of Earth providing any evidence that life still existed somewhere within that infinite void. The only thing that disturbed the silence was the faint rhythmic pulse of machinery buried deep within Ayato's research citadel, a slow mechanical heartbeat that traveled through the steel walls and corridors like the breathing of some enormous artificial creature patiently waiting beneath the surface.
Deep within that citadel, Ayato stood alone inside his laboratory, surrounded by pale holographic monitors that floated around him in slow circular patterns while ancient runes, complex calculations, biological data, and streams of unreadable symbols reflected across the lenses of his glasses. Dozens of miniature robots moved across the nearby consoles, their tiny mechanical limbs assembling and disassembling pieces of machinery with precise movements as they continued constructing something far larger within the deepest sections of the facility, something hidden from even the other members of the organization. For several long minutes, Ayato remained completely still while studying the information displayed before him, his expression unreadable as the countless calculations continued updating around him, before he finally reached upward and removed his laboratory coat.
The white fabric slipped from his shoulders without a sound and fell onto the floor beside him, where it remained in a loose pile that looked almost like discarded skin, while beneath it Ayato wore black from head to toe, his appearance immediately changing from that of a scientist surrounded by machines and experiments into something far more severe. A long dark coat rested neatly across the back of a nearby chair as though it had been prepared specifically for this moment, and Ayato reached toward it before lifting the garment and sliding it over his shoulders with deliberate precision, allowing the heavy fabric to settle against his body as its long hem brushed softly against the metallic floor.
In that moment, the scientist disappeared, and what remained was no longer simply a father desperately searching for impossible answers or a researcher willing to cross every boundary in pursuit of his goals, because standing within the cold light of the laboratory was a king preparing himself for war.
The doors leading toward the main chamber opened automatically as Ayato approached, their metallic mechanisms releasing a low groan that echoed through the corridor while pale lights flickered overhead one after another, illuminating his path for only a few moments before fading behind him. His footsteps carried through the enormous structure until he eventually reached the heart of the citadel, where the main chamber stretched outward like a cathedral carved directly into the moon itself, with towering walls disappearing into darkness above and crystalline panels embedded throughout the structure casting a cold silver glow across the enormous obsidian table positioned at the center of the room.
They were already waiting for him.
Kyoya sat near the far edge of the table with one arm lazily resting across the armrest of his chair, his posture appearing almost impossibly relaxed for someone who had already experienced death twice. Despite his casual demeanor, however, something about him remained deeply unsettling, because thin spiderweb-like fractures still lingered faintly around his neck where it had once been violently snapped apart, and although the flesh had healed, the memory of that violence remained permanently etched into his body.
Beside him sat the man who had rescued him, an enormous armored figure whose broad shoulders were covered by layers of black armor decorated with silver sigils that glowed faintly beneath the chamber's cold illumination. Half of the stranger's face remained hidden behind a metallic mask, leaving only one eye visible, yet that single eye carried such an ancient and calculating presence that it seemed capable of making the entire chamber feel heavier simply by looking toward someone.
Around the table sat the others, including a woman with ash-white hair braided tightly behind her head who casually rotated several floating crystal shards above her fingertips, each fragment spinning in perfect synchronization as though controlled by invisible strings, as well as a thin man completely covered by a crimson cloak whose body flickered unnaturally every few seconds, portions of his form briefly phasing out of existence before returning as though reality itself struggled to acknowledge his presence. Near the opposite end of the table sat a hulking figure whose skin resembled cracked volcanic stone, molten gold glowing faintly beneath the fractures spreading across his enormous body while his unmoving gaze followed Ayato from the moment he entered the chamber.
There was only one thing missing.
One chair remained empty.
Ayato's eyes settled upon the vacant seat for several moments before he released a quiet breath through his nose, his expression remaining calm despite the obvious absence.
"I suppose," he murmured quietly, "he still refuses to join us."
The chamber remained silent as Ayato continued toward the head of the table, the hem of his dark coat whispering softly against the floor behind him.
Kyoya was the first to break the silence, resting his chin against his knuckles as a faint grin slowly appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"So," he said casually, "I guess the warm-up phase is finally over."
Ayato stopped at the head of the table and placed both hands upon the obsidian surface before answering in the same calm voice.
"Yes, it is."
The enormous armored man shifted backward slightly, the plates of his armor creaking beneath his movement as his masked face remained directed toward Ayato.
"You are certain?" he asked, his voice carrying a strange distortion that made it sound as though several voices were speaking underneath his own. "Once this begins, there will be no quiet retreat left for any of us."
Ayato's fingers pressed against the obsidian table as the atmosphere within the chamber seemed to tighten around him.
"I have accounted for every variable," Ayato answered evenly, his eyes moving across the people seated around the table. "The Gate, the sword, the reincarnation cycle, and every consequence that could potentially emerge from their interaction."
His expression darkened slightly before he continued.
"Even Shoto."
The moment his son's name entered the conversation, the woman with white hair stopped the crystal shards that had been spinning above her fingertips, allowing them to hover motionlessly in the air while Kyoya's faint grin widened.
"So you're finally saying it out loud," Kyoya murmured, his eyes narrowing with interest. "Then it's true, isn't it? He really is the keystone."
Ayato did not hesitate, nor did he attempt to deny the accusation.
"He always was."
The magma-skinned giant shifted within his chair, the sound of stone grinding against stone echoing through the chamber as he finally spoke in a low, rumbling voice.
"And the girl?" he asked. "Mizumi?"
For the first time since entering the chamber, Ayato's expression changed, although the alteration lasted for only a fraction of a second before his face returned to its usual calm appearance.
"She will return," he said quietly, his eyes lowering slightly. "This time, however, she will return without imperfections."
The words remained suspended within the chamber, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake until the crimson-cloaked man finally chuckled beneath his hood.
"Using the boy as a sacrifice to create a new world," he mused, his voice carrying a faint amusement that made the statement sound almost poetic. "Poetic, cruel, and efficient."
Ayato slowly straightened himself.
"This world is decaying," he said, his voice remaining completely composed despite the severity of his words. "It has failed itself repeatedly throughout countless cycles of history, producing the same wars, the same suffering, the same destruction, and the same meaningless loss over and over again, and I refuse to allow another era to continue the cycle."
Kyoya leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming beneath the pale lunar light.
"And if Shoto resists?"
Ayato turned away from the table, allowing his gaze to settle upon the towering windows beyond the chamber, where Earth could be seen floating in the distance like a brilliant blue jewel surrounded by endless darkness.
For several seconds, he simply stared at his home.
"Then," he said quietly, "he will finally understand what it means to be a king."
At that exact moment, the empty chair at the table trembled faintly, causing everyone within the chamber to turn toward it, because the movement had not been caused by machinery, vibration, or anything else that could be explained by the structure itself, but instead carried the unsettling impression that something unseen had just acknowledged their conversation.
Far below, back on Earth, Hikaru moved first.
There was no warning and no hesitation because the instant the tension between the two boys finally snapped, Hikaru stepped backward in one smooth motion while his hand flashed toward his side and pulled free a jagged black shard humming with compressed energy. The crystal vibrated violently within his grip before suddenly unfolding, stretching and reshaping itself with a metallic whisper until it became an elegant black bow, while a dark string appeared between its limbs as though the weapon had been waiting for the command to exist.
Hikaru drew the string back immediately.
He fired.
The arrow screamed through the alleyway with enough force to make the surrounding air tremble, traveling toward Shoto like a blade tearing through reality itself, yet Shoto did not flinch because the panic that had previously occupied his expression had vanished completely and been replaced by a terrifying calmness that seemed almost unnatural for him.
Black scales rippled beneath Shoto's eyes and spread across his cheekbones like living armor while his fingers tightened around empty air, and within the next instant a burst of black steel erupted into existence as the Zamroak Sword materialized within his grasp.
The arrow collided with the flat of the blade with a violent metallic impact, shattering into fragments that scattered across the alley as Shoto immediately surged forward with enough force to crack the concrete beneath his feet. Hikaru barely managed to bring his bow upward before Shoto's sword collided against it, sparks erupting outward as the two weapons locked together and the two boys found themselves standing face-to-face within the narrow space.
"You're seriously trying to do this now?!" Shoto barked through clenched teeth, his voice carrying both anger and disbelief as he struggled against Hikaru's weapon.
Hikaru refused to answer, instead pushing away from the clash and leaping backward before raising his bow toward the night sky, his movements so fluid that Shoto barely had time to understand what he was doing before Hikaru released another arrow.
The projectile disappeared into the darkness above them.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the arrow split apart.
One became ten, ten became hundreds, and hundreds became thousands as countless black arrows spread across the night sky, creating an enormous formation that darkened the air above Shoto before every projectile simultaneously rotated downward and locked onto him.
Shoto stared upward.
"Seriously?"
He immediately turned and bolted from the alleyway.
His boots slammed against rain-soaked concrete as he sprinted into the open streets, the enormous swarm of arrows screaming after him like thousands of living predators that had already decided their prey would not escape. He ducked beneath one volley and twisted sideways beneath another while several arrows grazed his coat before detonating violently against the pavement, and behind him the surrounding buildings began collapsing beneath the relentless barrage as signs were ripped apart, windows shattered, walls exploded outward, and enormous clouds of black smoke rose into the night.
Shoto continued running as quickly as he could, but the arrows followed every movement, curving around buildings and changing direction with impossible precision while explosions erupted behind him in rapid succession.
Then the pressure changed.
Shoto felt it immediately.
His instincts screamed at him to look upward, and when he did, he saw Hikaru already suspended high above the street.
Water began gathering around Hikaru's arm, condensing rapidly until it formed a razor-sharp blade composed entirely of compressed water, and with a single movement Hikaru hurled the weapon downward with overwhelming force.
The blade twisted violently in midair before suddenly erupting outward into a roaring water dragon whose massive jaws opened wide enough to swallow the entire street below.
The countless arrows disappeared into the torrent.
Shoto skidded to a stop, his boots dragging across the pavement as he raised the Zamroak Sword defensively, while the black scales across his face spread farther and the calmness within his eyes sharpened into something dangerous.
Then the dragon struck.
The impact felt less like being hit by water and more like being crushed beneath an entire collapsing ocean, because the dragon's jaws slammed around Shoto before its massive body coiled violently around him and drove him backward with unstoppable force. His boots carved deep trenches into the pavement as the Zamroak Sword screeched against the ground while he desperately attempted to anchor himself, yet the dragon continued pushing him backward without slowing.
Storefronts exploded apart around him as the water serpent dragged him through steel beams, shattered windows, overturned vehicles, and broken concrete, while streetlights snapped in half and entire cars were lifted from the ground and thrown through the air like pieces of debris caught inside a flood.
Shoto gritted his teeth and buried the Zamroak Sword into the dragon's body, causing black energy to erupt from the blade as steam hissed violently around him, but despite the tremendous force of his attack, the dragon continued pushing him farther away from the city.
The lights of the city gradually blurred behind him before disappearing entirely as the concrete streets gave way to open land and eventually dense forest, yet even the sudden change in terrain did nothing to slow the enormous water dragon.
The forest exploded apart.
The dragon tore through the tree line like a living hurricane, uprooting ancient trees and ripping their roots from the earth as Shoto was carried through branches and bark while mud, leaves, and broken pieces of wood spiraled violently around him.
Shoto twisted his body in midair before finally slamming his boots into the ground, but the soil immediately collapsed beneath his weight as he carved a massive trench through the forest floor, his body continuing forward until he finally managed to force himself to a stop.
The water dragon reared upward above him, towering over the surrounding trees as its enormous roar shook birds from the canopy.
Somewhere within the storm, Hikaru's voice echoed through the forest.
"GOT YOU!"
Shoto snarled before driving the Zamroak Sword directly into the earth.
A violent burst of black energy erupted from the blade and spread outward across the ground like enormous roots, tearing through the soil and anchoring themselves beneath the earth as Shoto finally managed to hold his position.
The water dragon crashed into him.
A massive ring of water exploded outward through the forest, yet Shoto remained where he stood.
The creature's momentum abruptly stopped.
For several seconds, the water surrounding him churned violently before gradually beginning to collapse, and when Shoto finally lifted his head, the calmness that had previously existed within his eyes had completely disappeared.
Something feral stared back at Hikaru.
Something ancient.
Something furious.
Shoto inhaled sharply before raising the Zamroak Sword toward the sky, and as the weapon moved upward, the enormous water dragon was dragged along with it.
The creature screamed as its body was forcibly ripped skyward, twisting violently around the sword before beginning to unravel into countless streams of water that eventually fell back toward the forest as heavy rain.
The pressure finally snapped apart.
The dragon disappeared.
The Zamroak Sword continued upward before suddenly beginning to fall.
Hikaru caught it effortlessly.
Water rippled violently around his hand as he stared down at Shoto with cold disappointment in his eyes.
"Why aren't you fighting me for real?" Hikaru asked quietly, his voice carrying across the ruined forest. "Quit holding back, Kazami, because otherwise I'm going to kill that cat."
Shoto froze.
His eyes widened instantly as the words struck deeper than any physical attack Hikaru had delivered throughout the battle.
The world around him seemed to fracture.
Blood.
Screams.
Hands slipping away.
Promises he had failed to keep.
Faces disappearing into darkness.
Memories he had spent years trying to bury suddenly surged back into his consciousness all at once, overwhelming every rational thought as his breathing became heavier and his hands slowly curled into fists.
Fangs pushed past his lips as black scales erupted across both of his hands and crawled violently up his arms like living obsidian, spreading farther across his body with every second.
"You're not gonna kill him!" Shoto roared, his voice shaking the forest around him as his rage finally broke through the restraint he had been desperately maintaining. "I swear on it!!"
Hikaru stared at him silently.
There it is.
He finally provoked him.
Good.
Hikaru raised the water sword once more, but rather than striking with it, he allowed the weapon to dissolve into a spiraling vortex that wrapped around his entire body. The miniature tornado roared violently as pressure crushed outward in every direction, ripping leaves and broken branches from the ground while the surrounding trees bent beneath the force.
Then something tore open across Hikaru's back.
A single wing burst outward from the left side of his body, forming entirely from condensed water and draconic energy as its surface constantly shifted like a living creature, while blue dragon-like eyes opened across Hikaru's face and stared toward Shoto with an intensity that made his transformation appear even more unnatural.
The tornado dispersed moments later.
Hikaru remained standing within the aftermath.
His form was incomplete.
He knew it.
But that did not matter, because Hikaru had waited his entire life for this moment, and now that he had finally managed to push Shoto beyond the limits he had been imposing upon himself, he refused to allow the opportunity to disappear.
Without hesitation, his bow reformed within his grasp.
He drew the string.
He fired.
The arrow screamed through the forest toward Shoto before suddenly transforming in midflight, its body expanding as water erupted outward and formed another enormous dragon around the projectile. The creature opened its jaws as it approached, yet moments before impact, its body suddenly split into two separate serpents that curved around one another before diving toward Shoto from opposite directions.
Both dragons exploded.
The resulting blast swallowed Shoto completely and hurled him backward through the forest, shredding apart the ground beneath him before his body crashed violently against a massive tree.
The trunk exploded apart from the impact.
Shoto dropped toward the forest floor, gasping for breath as his vision blurred and his ears rang from the explosion.
Hikaru advanced slowly through the destruction without displaying any urgency, his lone water wing continuing to drip onto the ground while another arrow gradually formed between his fingers.
Shoto barely managed to notice the movement.
Hikaru fired.
Shoto rolled aside just as the projectile tore past him, narrowly avoiding the attack, but before he could regain his balance, the arrow suddenly curved backward through the air and slammed directly into his back.
The impact forced him forward.
Before he could recover, water erupted violently from beneath his feet.
Shoto instinctively leaped upward, attempting to escape the attack, but the surge followed him and struck his body in midair, twisting him helplessly sideways and leaving him completely exposed.
A burst of mist appeared directly in front of him.
Hikaru emerged from the mist almost instantly.
His foot slammed into Shoto's face.
The impact was brutal enough to send a visible shockwave through the surrounding air as Shoto's body was launched backward, smashing into another tree with enough force to split the trunk down the middle.
He collapsed onto the forest floor, gasping for breath as his vision spun violently and his fingers struggled against the dirt beneath him.
Above him, Hikaru stood silently while water dripped from his lone wing and his bow slowly lowered at his side, his expression remaining cold as he watched Shoto struggle to rise from the wreckage.
For several long seconds, neither boy moved, leaving only the sound of rainwater dripping from the ruined trees and the faint movement of Shoto's breathing to fill the forest.
Shoto eventually raised his head.
His eyes met Hikaru's.
The rage within them had changed.
It was no longer the anger of someone who had been provoked.
It was the anger of someone who had finally decided to stop holding himself back.