A blade was protruding out of Kenji's chest. It had entered from the his back and exited from the front just besides the heart.
Kenji looked down at it.
His expression was not that of pain. It was something closer to disbelief and bewilderment.
His fingers unclenched.
The Orb in his right palm — the second one, warm with that ancient patient light — rolled free from his grip and fell.
A hand caught it before it reached the floor.
The blade withdrew cleanly. Not a drop was left on the blade's edge and streams of blood flowed from the open wound.
Kenji's knees folded. He went down slowly, and came to rest on the golden floor of the ruined throne room with one hand beneath him and one extended outward, the fingers still curved in the shape of the Orb that was no longer there.
Behind him, Yuki's brother. Renji stood without any expression on his serene face.
His pink eyes were observing the orb without showing any signs that he was holding an extraordinary object in his hand.
