The chamber was deep. Unlit by fme, unwarmed by presence.
It rested at the very bottom of the Kegare’s veiled domain—an unstable offshoot of the Chūkan, where even Tamashkii itself thinned like breath in cold air.
Here, the Death Phantoms sat.
Silent.
Exhausted.
Kenzo’s chest still bore fresh scars, his breathing ragged but controlled. Uta leaned back with one arm slung over her knee, her expression unreadable, though a flicker of irritation danced in her eyes. Daisuke sat with arms crossed, golden streaks still fading from his skin. YuYu leaned against a jagged wall, licking a dried trace of blood from his lip. Subaru sat apart, gaze lowered.
Toshiro hadn’t moved.
He still y unconscious in the far corner—arms limp, breath shallow.
No one spoke.
Until Kenzo did.
“You knew it’d blow like that,” he said coldly. “Didn’t you?”
Subaru didn’t respond.
Uta leaned forward. “The core. You set it off knowing it’d burn the Chūkan.”
Still, silence.
“You could’ve killed us,” Kenzo snapped. “You damn near did.”
Subaru raised his eyes. Calm. Steady.
“I didn’t.”
Uta’s hand tensed, shadow flickering across her palm.
But before anything more could be said—
“Enough.”
The Shingan’s voice cut through the chamber like cold steel.
He stepped forward from the shadows, Tsuyome resting across his back, eyes half-lidded but sharp.
“If Subaru hadn’t used that core,” he said, tone ft, “we would not be sitting here. In truth, that fight was premature. We would not have made it out.”
Silence.
The Death Phantoms fell quiet.
The Shingan’s gaze swept across them.
“If you must be angry,” he continued, “be angry that we failed our mission.”
YuYu furrowed his brow. “Failed? We lived.”
The Shingan’s voice dipped.
“No Kiyosada. And none of his work.”
He turned away, looking toward the flickering wall where voidlight rippled like dying stars.
“With his research… we could have transcended. Truly become one with our Reibaku.”
“But now…”
He turned back, eyes sharp.
“We’ll have to force that process.”
Subaru stirred. “Force it, my lord?”
The Shingan gave a faint nod.
“Kuroda, if nothing else… was a man of ambition.”
He walked slowly toward the center of the chamber.
“Cowardly. Erratic. Weak. But ambition—he had in excess. And his ambition created these.” He gestured behind him.
“The Tamashkii Cores.”
He turned to the others.
“I trust you all obtained yours.”
A faint shifting. Movement. Each Phantom produced a glowing object—each one pulsing with a deep internal rhythm.
All but Toshiro.
The Shingan’s gaze shifted.
“…Subaru. Is he alive?”
Subaru nodded. “The Jumōnban lieutenant’s strike was meant to kill. But he held back at the st moment. He’ll live but his full recovery will take a while unlike ours.”
The Shingan exhaled through his nose.
“…Then retrieve his core.”
Subaru stood, crossed the chamber, and returned moments ter—pcing a seventh core on the stone dais.
The Shingan counted.
“Seven.” A pause. “I thought you used one?”
Subaru lowered his gaze. “I prepared for a contingency at the Hayashi household.”
He raised his eyes.
“I was able to obtain an extra core. I tampered with it—meant to escape in case of failure. When we were instantly brought back to the Chūkan, I used it here instead.”
The Shingan stared.
Then—
“…Truly magnificent, Subaru.”
“You may well be the one Watari chooses as his Ubuyō.”
Subaru didn’t smile.
He lowered his head. “Of course, my lord.”
But something fshed behind his eyes.
A flicker.
A fracture.
The Shingan stepped forward and raised his hand above the center core.
He began to chant.
“Tenkai no Shingi No.300”
Low. Slow. Like a curse unspooling in ancient rhythm.
“Tamashkii unshelled,
Spilled from roots and memory’s well.
Corrupted path, now id in vein—
Break the soul, unleash the chain.
Where shadow reigns, let fire wake,
Where names dissolve and futures quake—
Kōkai.”
The air shifted.
A pulse echoed through the chamber.
The seven cores—once glowing white-blue—turned red. Not bright red.
Blood red.
Their light dimmed, then began to throb.
Like heartbeats.
The ground hummed beneath them.
The very air seemed to bend inward—drawn to the cores as if they were devouring the Chūkan’s breath itself.
“Palms,” the Shingan said.
Each Phantom stepped forward. One by one. Subaru carrying Toshiro on his back.
They pressed their hands on the corrupted surface of their core.
The Shingan was st.
His hand touched the seventh.
BOOM.
A ring of dark light burst from the altar.
Beams of energy spiraled from each core to a single convergence point—forming the Chūkan’s ancient insignia in mid-air. The very symbol etched on every Shinsei-Gai… now glowing in corrupted red.
The Shingan looked up at it.
And began to speak.
“Kuroda… you were a fool.”
“But you were right about one thing. These cores were never meant to stabilize power.”
“They were meant to awaken it.”
“Not just to bring out the underlying Tamashkii. No. To evolve it.”
He raised his head, voice sharpening.
“And now—with the technique I’ve used—they are no longer mere tools.”
“They are our key to becoming the highest beings in the Chūkan.”
Another pulse.
The light fred.
Bck and red energy flooded the space between them—twisting, spiraling, devouring the air itself.
BOOM.
Light exploded.
Then faded.
When the smoke cleared—
The Death Phantoms stood transformed.
Uta’s left eye had turned pure bck—her iris gone, a void where wrath now dwelled. Her veins pulsed faintly with shadow. Kenzo’s gauntlets had become permanent—etched into his arms like iron flesh. YuYu’s smile was sharper. Wider. His teeth—longer than before. Daisuke’s eyes had gone golden-white, but his skin cracked faintly, glowing from within.
Subaru’s sleeves fluttered even without wind. His pupils were gone—repced with spirals.
Even their stances had changed.
But their Reibaku…
They weren’t ethereal anymore.
They were corrupted.
Twisted.
Where once they hummed with strange energy, now they screamed. Their presence made the air recoil. The Chūkan itself seemed to reject them.
They didn’t belong.
They didn’t care.
The Shingan flexed his fingers—staring at his hand.
He smiled.
“…Yes. I feel it. Tsuyome… is telling me we are now one.”
He closed his fist.
Across the chamber, the Death Phantoms marveled in silence.
YuYu rolled his wrist, Ibara crackling with chaotic resonance. “This feels nice…”
Uta tilted her head, Gekirin flickering like coiled serpents of smoke.
Daisuke gave a single nod, Hermes now burning gold, but its light jittered—unstable.
Subaru studied Naga. The ribbons that bound it were darker now. The runes bled.
The Shingan looked at each of them in turn.
“The Chūkan will be recovering. They think we will too.”
He stepped forward.
“They are wrong.”
“We are now Kōkai. Which means it is time for our power… to spread.”
He looked at Daisuke.
“Take Hermes. Take your speed. Imbue your underling. Send them to the Sixth.”
Daisuke gave a sharp nod.
The Shingan turned to Uta.
“My daughter. You are wrath. Let Gekirin drip into your shadow—and send it to the Fourth.”
Uta bowed her head.
“Let them taste rage.”
Next, YuYu.
“Give Ibara to your beast. Let him go mad at the First.”
YuYu grinned. “Hell yeah.”
Finally, Subaru.
The Shingan paused.
“Naga. My son, you have two abilities. One to bend tempo. One to bend time. I prefer you use the first.”
A pause.
“But… if you choose the second… I trust you’ll make the right call.”
Subaru inclined his head.
Toshiro still hadn’t moved.
The Shingan gnced down at him.
“…Even the Kōkai couldn’t wake him?”
Subaru’s voice was quiet. “That lieutenant is truly a cruel man.”
The Shingan turned back to the others.
“We will show them we can be cruel as well. Koharu, Ayase, HARUKA, and THOSE WRETCHED ELDERS! They will all see!”
He calmed himself then continued.
“All of you. Make your underlings understand the mission. This will be their moment to shine. Give them as many defective ones as they need.”
“They think we will let them rest. Let them recover. But when the time comes…”
He raised Tsuyome.
“…I’ve already won.”
CUT TO BLACK.
