The Moriki Manor, temporary headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps.
The night was as dark as ink, the cold moonlight veiled by thin, ominous clouds.
A damp chill hung in the air, causing dew to condense on the leaves in the courtyard, dripping with a soft, lonely patter that only amplified the silence.
It was a stark, unsettling contrast to the usual activity.
Normally, even late at night, the headquarters would be alive with the light of lanterns and the sounds of slayers patrolling or training.
Tonight, it was plunged into an unnervingly cold and profound quiet.
It was too quiet.
Unnaturally so.
Every corps member who had completed the Hashira Training, even those who were injured, had received special instructions from their master, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, that evening.
Under various pretexts—"rest and recuperation," "peripheral reconnaissance," "assisting in a logistics transfer"—they had been quietly and methodically moved out of the manor's core area.
Even the majority of the Kakushi, the logistical support teams, had been sent away, leaving only a skeleton crew at key positions.
The vast estate had been turned into a quietly emptied stage, waiting.
The only ones left were the core actors and an invisible, but ever-strengthening, aura of doom.
.....
Deep in the main house, in the room filled with the scent of medicine…
Kagaya Ubuyashiki sat calmly by the window.
Though his face was scarred and his eyes were nearly blind, he was turned toward the silent courtyard as if he could still see it.
His wife, Amane, knelt beside him, her slender hands clutching his, which were cool to the touch.
She fought to maintain her composure, but the slight tremble of her fingertips and the deep, inconsolable sorrow in her eyes betrayed the storm in her heart.
Their twin daughters, Hinaki and Nichika, seemed to sense the oppressive atmosphere.
They were snuggled obediently against their parents, not playing or chattering as they usually would, their wide, clear eyes filled with a quiet confusion.
"Father," Hinaki asked, her small voice startlingly clear in the silent room, "where did everyone go?"
Kagaya reached out a pale, thin hand and gently stroked his daughter's hair.
His voice was as warm and gentle as the spring sun.
"They have gone on a very important mission, my dear. They will be back. Are you getting sleepy? Mommy can take you to bed now, alright?"
It was a lie.
A gentle, beautiful, and utterly cruel lie.
Amane closed her eyes as a single tear escaped and traced a silent path down her cheek.
She knew.
Her husband, the master of the Demon Slayer Corps, had made his final decision.
He was using himself, his family, and this entire manor as bait.
He was setting a final, merciless death trap for Kibutsuji Muzan.
All the slayers had been sent away to preserve the last spark of hope for the Corps.
Their family… they would be the heart of the trap.
And their son, Kiriya, would be the one to carry that spark into the future.
The air was thick with a tragic, suffocating silence, the last calm before the end of the world.
...
At that same moment, in the secret laboratory beneath the manor, Shinobu Kocho's hands began to shake uncontrollably.
Crash!
A glass test tube slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.
She ignored the pungent chemical smell that filled the air.
Her head snapped up, her violet eyes flashing with alarm.
Just now, she had felt something.
It wasn't a sound, but a sharp, primal perception that had only awakened after her transformation.
A deep, instinctual palpitation that signaled the approach of extreme, overwhelming danger.
A cold, suffocating malice was seeping into the air like an invisible tide.
"This feeling…" Shinobu pressed a hand to her chest, her instincts screaming that something was terribly wrong.
She looked around the lab and realized with a jolt that Lady Tamayo and Yushiro had been gone for a long time.
Where were they?
And outside… it was so quiet.
Eerily quiet.
Where were the footsteps of the patrols?
The shouts from the night-training grounds?
Even the chirping of the insects had ceased.
Suddenly, she remembered hearing the Kakushi whispering earlier in the evening about a "large-scale field mission" and "headquarters martial law."
At the time, she had paid it no mind.
But now, combined with this dead silence and the growing dread in her soul…
No.
This is not normal.
Her expression hardened.
She had to find out what was happening.
She moved to leave the lab, intending to find Tamayo or go straight to the main house to check on her master.
But as she reached the door, she found her path blocked.
A figure as majestic and unmovable as a mountain stood there, radiating an aura of profound sadness and determination.
It was Gyomei Himejima.
The strongest Hashira.
But why was he here? And why did his face hold such a look of solemn, tragic resolve?
"Himejima-san! Thank goodness," Shinobu said, her voice laced with anxiety.
"Something is wrong. I can feel it. Please, come with me to Oyakata-sama, we have to ensure his safety."
Gyomei did not seem to hear her.
He simply turned, his movements slow and deliberate.
His tear-stained, resolute face was filled with an endless compassion, and a deep, unspoken apology.
He slowly shook his head, his eyes conveying a message of gentle but absolute refusal.
He's stopping me? Why?!
The horrifying answer began to dawn on Shinobu.
Kagaya had transferred all the slayers away… Gyomei was standing guard alone… This… this was all part of a plan.
Her master hadn't just anticipated this.
He had orchestrated it.
He was using himself as bait.
Just as the devastating realization struck her, causing her to hesitate for a fatal second…
In front of the main house, where Kagaya Ubuyashiki waited, the space began to ripple and distort.
A figure, like Death itself stepping out of the abyss, slowly materialized from thin air.
He wore an exquisite, modern suit, his skin unnaturally pale, his hair as black as ink.
His face was handsome, almost inhumanly so.
But his eyes—his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes—held nothing but a cold, absolute indifference, as if he were gazing down upon ants.
Kibutsuji Muzan.
He had come in person.
His gaze instantly shot across the courtyard, locking onto the main house, onto the source of the Ubuyashiki bloodline he had despised for a thousand years.
The corner of his mouth curled into an expression of cruel, triumphant joy.
"I've found you… Kagaya Ubuyashiki."
His cold voice, a declaration of death, echoed through the silent night.
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