The crimson figure stepped forward, each movement deliberate, as if testing the limits of its own existence. Its faceless head tilted slightly, mirroring Kiyoshi's own posture.
"You resist," it whispered—not with words, but directly into his mind. "Why cling to weakness? Submit, and power is yours."
Kiyoshi's fists burned with chakra. He inhaled sharply, grounding himself. "I don't need you. I control my own power!" His Ketsuryūgan flared, veins of crimson tracing intricate patterns across his arms and neck, the light spilling into the ruined chamber like molten fire.
The figure moved faster than he expected. Every strike, every lunge, mirrored his thoughts, his instincts—his fear. It was him, but amplified, sharpened, weaponized.
Rei's voice cut through the chaos: "Anchor yourself! Don't let it take you!"
Daiki slammed his palms together, sending a pulse of chakra straight at Kiyoshi, connecting with him, not the figure. "We've got you! Remember us!"
Kiyoshi felt it—the anchor. Their presence in his mind, their determination. His vision steadied. He gritted his teeth. "I'm not alone. I never was!"
He struck. Not physically, but with chakra. A wave of crimson energy shot forward, meeting the apparition mid-stride. The figure staggered for the first time, its form flickering like a candle in the wind.
"You… cannot," it hissed.
"I can," Kiyoshi growled. "Because I choose my own path!"
---
ANBU Arrive
The sealed chamber's alarms had triggered multiple squads. ANBU operatives arrived within minutes, masks glinting in the flickering light.
"Contain the energy!" one ordered. But even their coordinated chakra arrays couldn't approach the figure without Kiyoshi's interference—they were too intertwined.
Kiyoshi realized the truth: the relic-empowered figure could be stopped, but only if he fully accepted control.
He glanced at Rei and Daiki, and they gave him a silent nod.
This is it, he thought. I either take it—or I lose myself.
He focused on the figure, inhaling deeply. The crimson in his veins flared brighter than the containment explosion, a dazzling aura of pure Ketsuryūgan power.
---
The Clash
The figure charged. Kiyoshi met it head-on, chakra colliding in an explosion that shook the room. The walls cracked, the floor splintered, and the ceiling groaned.
But instead of fear, Kiyoshi felt clarity. Every move, every strike, every pulse of energy was his. He wasn't reacting to the figure—he was controlling the fight.
Rei and Daiki's presence reinforced him. Rei's violet chakra interwove with his own, a stabilizing counterweight, while Daiki's raw energy pushed back the oppressive pull of the relic.
The figure staggered again, its form breaking slightly, revealing glimpses of the relic's power still lingering, but no longer entirely dominant.
"Why… fight?" the apparition hissed. Its voice trembled—cracking for the first time.
"Because this is me!" Kiyoshi roared. His chakra exploded outward, and for the first time, the crimson figure wasn't just resisting—it was shrinking under his control.
---
A New Power Emerges
Kiyoshi felt it—a new layer of perception. His Ketsuryūgan had evolved.
Not just vision, not just chakra reading.
Now he could sense intent. Every pulse, every fluctuation of chakra in the figure, in the relic's lingering threads, even in Rei and Daiki, was clear to him.
He smiled faintly—fierce, determined. I am not the reflection. I am the original.
With a final push, he surged forward. His chakra connected with the figure in a dazzling collision. Light, crimson and violet, swirled, twisting, and the relic's hold began to unravel.
The figure screamed—a soundless, psychic howl—as it dissipated into sparks, leaving only the faint echo of the relic's presence.
Kiyoshi collapsed to one knee, exhausted but alive. Rei rushed to his side, holding him steady, while Daiki crouched in front, giving him a thumbs-up.
"You… you did it," Rei whispered.
Daiki grinned, bloodied but triumphant. "You didn't just survive. You owned that thing!"
But Kiyoshi's eyes scanned the room carefully. The containment scroll was destroyed. The relic's power—though diminished—was still here, whispering faintly, waiting.
And deep in the shadows, outside the broken chamber, something—or someone—watched.
Silent. Calculating.
The fight wasn't over.