The scene shifted again.
Pulling Nezuko into a smaller, more intimate chamber where Akira spoke privately with another figure. A demon whose human appearance was so perfect it triggered every instinct she possessed.
It moved like a human, spoke like a human. But something fundamental was wrong in ways her enhanced senses could detect but not define.
"The scarred one suspects nothing?" the figure asked.
Its voice carried the cultured tones of educated nobility.
"Tanjiro sees what he expects to see—a fellow slayer helping demons find peace." Akira's amusement was genuine, fond even.
In the way someone might laugh at a beloved pet's antics.
"His compassion is his greatest weakness."
"And his sister?"
"Nezuko is the real prize." Akira's eyes gleamed with hunger that had nothing to do with blood or flesh. "Her successful transformation proves change is possible in both directions."
"She'll resist."
"For now. But the network calls to its own. She's already hearing us, whether she admits it or not."
"What if she warns her brother?"
"She won't." Akira's smile was knowing, cruel, certain. "Shame is a powerful silencer. She'll convince herself these are just nightmares until it's too late."
The words hit like a dagger between her ribs.
Because Nezuko realized they were true. Even now, part of her mind was already crafting explanations, excuses, reasons to keep this horror private rather than burden Tanjiro with another failure.
"Besides," Akira continued, "she's curious now. She wants to know what she really is beneath all the human pretense."
"No, I don't—"
"Don't you? Then why are you still listening?"
The question froze Nezuko's protests because it was accurate.
She was listening, engaging, participating in conversations instead of fighting to wake up. Some part of her wanted to understand. Wanted answers to questions she'd never dared voice.
The network leader stepped closer to Akira.
Its perfect human features arranged in an expression of cold curiosity.
"If she proves troublesome, we can simply reclaim her by force."
"That won't be necessary." Akira's confidence was absolute, unshakeable. "She'll come to us willingly. They always do, eventually."
"And if the Corps discovers our activities before then?"
"Let them. By the time they understand the scope of our organization, we'll have replaced half their membership with our own people. Perfect human mimics with demon capabilities." Akira's expression turned dreamy, fanatical. "A new species, combining the best of both natures."
Nezuko tried to scream, to fight, to break free from the nightmare.
But the voices continued flowing around her like poisoned water. Plans within plans. Conspiracies layered upon conspiracies.
All centered around a vision of evolution that would destroy everything she cared about.
---
The dream began to fracture.
Reality bled through in jarring fragments. She could feel her physical body in the distant futon. Could sense dawn approaching through her bedroom window.
But the voices followed her toward consciousness.
"Sister of the scarred one, you cannot run from what you are."
Nezuko's eyes snapped open in her quarters.
The familiar walls swam into focus as her heart hammered against her ribs. Sweat soaked her sleeping yukata. Her fingernails—human fingernails, she told herself desperately—had gouged deep scratches in the wooden headboard of her futon.
"Just a dream," she whispered.
But her voice carried that same rasp from the vision.
"Just trauma. Nothing more."
She touched her face with trembling fingers. Her canine teeth were slightly elongated.
In the window's reflection, her eyes flashed red for just a moment before returning to brown. But the change was unmistakable.
"No, no, no... I'm human. I'm human!"
But the claw marks in the wood couldn't be dismissed. Couldn't be explained away.
The dreams weren't memories of her past. They were glimpses of something happening right now. Somewhere in the mountains around headquarters.
---
"I have to tell Tanjiro," she whispered to the empty room.
Then another voice, barely audible but undeniably present:
"And disappoint him? Make him doubt his greatest achievement?"
"Shut up," she hissed.
But the room remained empty.
"Who's there?" she called out, knowing the question was pointless.
"We are always with you now," the voice continued inside her mind.
Intimate as her own thoughts.
"The network remembers its own."
"Leave me alone!"
"We offer you truth. Purpose. A place where you don't have to pretend to be something you're not."
Nezuko stared at her reflection in the window glass.
She watched her features shift subtly between human and something else. The face looking back at her was beautiful, peaceful, and absolutely terrifying in its alien perfection.
"I am human!"
"Then why are you listening?"
The question hung in the air like incense. Heavy and inescapable.
Because she was listening. Actively engaging with the voice instead of dismissing it as hallucination or trauma.
Some part of her, buried beneath layers of human identity and family loyalty, was genuinely curious about what they offered.
Outside her window, a figure in Corps uniform walked across the courtyard.
It moved with silent grace that no human should possess. Auburn hair caught the pre-dawn light as Akira returned from some unexplained nighttime activity.
Moving with the fluid precision Nezuko had witnessed in her dreams.
"Think about our offer, sister," the voice whispered as it faded like smoke. "We'll be waiting."
Nezuko watched Akira disappear into the headquarters building, and for the first time since her transformation, she wondered if being human was really what she wanted—or just what everyone expected of her. The thought terrified her more than any demon she'd ever faced.
"I won't betray Tanjiro," she whispered to the empty room, the words carrying the weight of an oath.
But as dawn broke across the mountains, she couldn't shake the feeling that the choice might not be hers to make. The network had found her, recognized her, claimed her as one of their own. And somewhere in the darkness between human and demon consciousness, a part of her had listened.
Had wanted to listen.
Had wanted to answer.