Location: Kyoto — Lower Courtyard, Midnight / Remote Village Ruins — Dawn
Akira didn't remember waking up.
He just remembered falling.
Into his own mind. Into the scream of broken seconds and rewound regrets.
Each breath he took was no longer just his.
He heard others breathing through him — versions of himself born from trauma, each carrying a memory he'd tried to forget. They echoed in his pulse. Whispered through his teeth.
"She burned for you."
"You killed us."
"You can't anchor us all."
He gripped his head.
They weren't hallucinations.
They were living timelines.
Elsewhere — Kyoto Archive Basement
Momo Nishimiya stood in front of a sealed shrine door, hands cold.
A talisman seal, older than the school itself, had been re-etched in fresh blood.
She whispered under her breath: "It's begun…"
Behind her, Principal Gakuganji watched in silence. "The handler informed us the echoes are developing sentience."
"He can't hold them forever," Momo replied. "That Domain… it didn't just tear open space — it tore through cause and effect."
Gakuganji narrowed his eyes. "And you still believe he should live?"
"I don't care about orders. I care about what's coming."
Meanwhile — Remote Village Ruins (Class B Mission)
Akira was sent on a solo cleanup.
No veil. No backup. Just one vague instruction:
"Purge the curse nest. Don't come back without confirmation."
It was an execution. Kido's way of hoping the mental toll would snap him mid-mission.
But Akira moved anyway.
The air here was colder. Thick with forgotten prayers and stagnant blood.
Old homes slumped like broken ribs under the mountain. He stepped carefully between splintered wood and moss-eaten walls.
The curse was waiting — a malformed spirit bloated with lost identity. It had stitched human faces into its body. Hundreds. Whispering.
Akira didn't attack.
He watched.
And for a moment… the curse stared back, confused. Then terrified.
"You're not… one."
"You're… many."
He raised his hand. No chant. No sigil. He didn't activate the technique.
He borrowed it.
Just like before — the fracture peeled open.
A Fragment Echo stepped forward beside him.
It wasn't a clone. It was him. A version that had killed the curse in one timeline. Its hand already bloodstained. Its face twisted in rage.
Akira whispered, "Don't."
But it smiled — and killed anyway.
One strike. Pure reversal. No hesitation.
The curse exploded into ribbons of memory, weeping faces spiraling upward like smoke.
Aftermath
Akira collapsed near a broken well, eyes wide.
"I didn't activate anything…" he whispered. "Why did it still come out?"
No answer.
Only the wind. And then…
Footsteps.
Momo emerged from the forest's edge, her broom over her shoulder, expression unreadable.
"You let it slip," she said. "It didn't possess you. It protected you."
Akira looked up. "How long have you been following me?"
"Since the start," she admitted. "You never noticed. But I've been recording your echoes."
"Why?"
"Because they're evolving faster than any of us thought."
She stepped closer.
"One of them… already has a name."
His breath caught.
"…What?"
"Echo Zero," she said quietly. "He speaks in full sentences. Knows every death you've prevented. He says he's the original."
Akira stood. "That's not possible."
Momo nodded. "He told me something else."
"…What."
"That you're the echo — not him."
Meanwhile — Hidden Chamber, Unknown Location
In the shadow of a shrine with sealed scriptures on the wall, someone sat cross-legged, hair tied loosely, fingers moving over cursed threads.
Kenjaku — not yet exposed, not yet declared.
Smiling.
"The domain cracked. His mind splinters."
He looked at the sealed scroll.
"They're preparing him well."
Then turned to a floating mirror beside him — through it, the faint shimmer of a boy standing in the dark, looking directly back.
Akira.
Not a recording.
Not a vision.
But… awareness.
Kenjaku leaned closer, grin widening.
"Soon, boy. Soon, your timeline will belong to me."