For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Not Ren.Not Ayaka.Not even the fog.
It was like the entire Yumihara Valley was holding its breath as the figure stepped out from the swirling white haze. Ren's heartbeat spiked—the normal one and the second one—and he felt both rhythms crash painfully against each other.
Ayaka tightened her grip on him. "Ren… stay behind me."
Ren didn't argue. His legs felt like water.
The figure emerging from the mist wasn't Yurei. And it wasn't the shadow creature from before. This one had weight. Presence. A thick spiritual pressure that made the ground feel heavier under Ren's feet.
Kurogane exhaled shakily. "No… not so soon."
Hiro whispered, "Professor, what is THAT? Please tell me it's a bear. Or a guy in a costume. Or a hallucination."
"It is none of those," Kurogane said, voice trembling more than he wanted it to.
The figure finally stepped fully into view.
It wore what looked like an old ceremonial mask—white with black streaks, carved into a long, hollow smile. The body beneath it was tall and almost human-shaped, wrapped in dark, threadbare cloth that fluttered even though the air was still. Its hands were too long, fingers too pointed, and every step it took left the ground slightly darker, as if its presence stained the earth.
Ayaka's blade was out in a flash. "Don't come closer!"
The masked figure didn't respond with words.
It tilted its head.
Slow. Curious.
Almost childlike.
But something about that simple movement made chills run up Ren's spine.
Kurogane's voice dropped to a whisper. "A Guardian of the God. One of the old watchers."
Ren's stomach twisted. "Guardian…?"
"They ensured the fragments reached their intended vessel," Kurogane said. "They hunt anything that interferes with the resurrection."
Ren suddenly felt sick. "…so it's here for me."
Ayaka stepped fully in front of him. "It'll have to go through me first."
Hiro groaned, "Ayaka, please don't challenge the ancient murder-scarecrow."
The masked guardian took another step, its cloth-wrapped foot gliding rather than landing. It raised its arm—slow, deliberate—and pointed straight at Ren.
Not at Ayaka.
Not at Hiro.
At Ren.
The second heartbeat inside him throbbed awake, pounding like a drum of warning or excitement—Ren couldn't tell which.
Ayaka growled, "You point at him again and I'll cut that arm off."
The mask tilted again, almost… amused.
Then it lunged.
Ayaka shoved Ren sideways, swinging her blade. The guardian moved faster than anything Ren had ever seen. It didn't dodge. It simply wasn't there anymore.
It reappeared behind them.
Hiro shrieked. "NOPE—NOPE! ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
Ayaka twisted, slashing upward, her blade scraping against the guardian's wrappings. The metal didn't tear anything. Didn't slow it down. Didn't even make a real sound.
"It's not physical!" Kurogane shouted. "Ayaka, you can't hurt it!"
"Then I'll still try!"
Ren stumbled to his feet, gripping his chest. The seal was moving—pulling toward the guardian. Dragging him mentally like gravity.
—He comes to take us. He comes to complete us.
"No," Ren gasped. "Stay out of my head!"
But the seal was buzzing like a living hornet's nest.
Ayaka noticed Ren starting to sway, and she darted back to him, grabbing his wrist. "Ren! Focus on my voice again, come on—stay with me!"
The moment she touched him, the seal resisted—like a wild animal jerking against a leash.
Ayaka gritted her teeth. "Fight it. Don't let it pull you in."
The guardian turned toward Ayaka.
Its mask tilted.
Once.
Twice.
Then its fingers spread, bending in unnatural angles.
Ayaka immediately pushed Ren back. "It's targeting me now."
Ren panicked. "Because you're stopping the merging—Ayaka, run!"
"Not happening."
The guardian blurred forward.
Ayaka raised her blade—
But the creature didn't attack her.
It passed through her.
As if she were nothing but fog.
Ayaka gasped, stumbling as a chill shot through her body. She dropped to one knee, breath cut short.
"Ayaka!" Ren ran toward her.
Hiro reached her first. "Hey—hey! Are you okay? Blink twice if you're alive!"
Ayaka glared weakly. "I'm alive, idiot."
But her voice shook. And Ren saw why.
Where the guardian passed through her, faint white marks shimmered across her skin like chalk-painted veins.
Kurogane stared in horror. "It marked her. That is… very, very bad."
Ayaka wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I've had worse."
"No," Kurogane said. "You haven't."
Ren knelt beside her. "Ayaka, I'm sorry—this is because of me—"
"Don't." She grabbed his collar and pulled him close, eyes burning. "You don't get to apologize for things that aren't your fault."
"But if it targets you again—"
"Then I'll deal with it," she said. "Just stay behind me."
Hiro looked like he wanted to cry. "Ayaka, please stop volunteering for boss fights."
Kurogane pointed at the guardian. "It will not stop. Its purpose is singular—bring Ren to the god. Anyone who interferes becomes a threat to erase."
Ayaka stood, wavering only slightly. "Let it try."
The guardian extended both arms now.
Ren felt the pull intensify—like a rope tightening around his ribs, dragging him toward the masked figure. The ground beneath him darkened with each inch he slid.
Ayaka grabbed him, fighting the invisible drag. "Ren—don't you dare let go!"
"I'm not!" Ren yelled, though his feet were sliding against the dirt.
Hiro grabbed Ren's other arm. "Ayaka, I swear if he floats off into the sky, I'm going with him!"
"That's not comforting," Ren said through clenched teeth.
The guardian stepped closer.
The pressure increased—
The second heartbeat roared—
Ren staggered—
Ayaka's hold slipped—
And then—
A crack of moonlight split the fog.
A voice whispered through the wind.
"Enough."
Yurei materialized between Ren and the guardian, silver robes rippling outward like a shield of light.
Ayaka's eyes widened with raw fury. "YOU AGAIN—?!"
Yurei ignored her completely.
She faced the guardian.
And for once… Yurei's expression wasn't soft.
It wasn't sad.
It wasn't longing.
It was deadly cold.
"This vessel is under my protection," she said, voice echoing unnaturally. "You will not touch him."
The guardian's mask twitched.
Almost… annoyed.
It raised an arm toward Yurei.
Ayaka lifted her blade. "Let that thing touch her. I dare it."
The guardian swung its arm.
Moonlight flashed.
Yurei blocked the attack with a gesture so fluid it looked effortless. The impact created a shockwave that rattled every tent pole in camp.
Hiro hit the dirt face-first. "WHY IS EVERYTHING ALWAYS EXPLODING?!"
Ren stared in disbelief. "Yurei… you're fighting it?"
Yurei didn't look back at him, but her voice softened slightly. "Of course. Nothing takes you from me."
Ayaka snarled, "He's NOT YOURS!"
Yurei flicked her hand again, creating another ripple of moonlit force that hurled the guardian backward.
It slid across the dirt, digging lines into the ground… then stood back up instantly.
Kurogane swallowed hard. "This… this is beyond anything I expected."
Ayaka glared at Yurei. "We don't need you defending him."
Yurei's eyes flicked to her. "You cannot defend him from this. You barely stabilized him from the seal."
Ayaka stepped forward. "But I DID."
The air between them crackled with tension.
Ren grabbed Ayaka's arm. "Please—focus! Both of you!"
Ayaka's gaze broke away from Yurei, returning to Ren.
Yurei also turned toward him—her tone softening again.
"Ren, stay behind me."
Ayaka growled. "He stays behind ME."
Hiro raised a hand. "Maybe he stays behind BOTH of you?!"
But nobody listened.
The guardian reformed its stance, arms bending into a spiral shape, dark aura coiling around it like smoke.
Kurogane whispered, "It's preparing a soul-binding strike."
Ayaka raised her blade. Yurei lifted her hand.
Ren stepped forward. "Stop—both of you—!"
But the guardian launched its attack before anyone could react.
A wave of shadow shot straight toward Ren.
Ayaka moved first.Yurei moved second.Both reached for him—
And Ren saw the shock on both their faces…
As the shadow hit him directly.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Ren didn't scream.
He couldn't.
The seal roared inside him.
The merging surged forward—
And for one terrifying moment…
Ren couldn't rememberwhether he was Ren Arashida.
Or something else entirely.