"Don't bother trying to break out of it," Uta said, her voice echoing with authority. "This is my world. You kneel before the throne I've created—born from the sadness and guilt that consumed me when I learned the truth."
Imai gritted her teeth, straining against the cube that bound her, but it was no use. Her movements were futile, her strength useless. For the first time in a long while, she felt powerless. Yet the thought of her earring—her earring—being lost made her heart clench. She couldn't bear to face her true friend with the news that she had failed to protect something so important.
Uta's gaze lingered on the earring she now held delicately between her fingers. "Don't look at me like that," she said in an odd tone, her expression unreadable. "This earring is important to you; I can see it in your eyes. Everything here was important to me once, too. And yet, I lost it all. If you lose this, maybe you'll finally understand how I felt."
Imai's jaw tightened. "I've already lost everything," she growled, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "More than you could ever imagine. Don't act like you know me, Uta."
Uta's lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "That may be so," she mused. "After all, the only things I've heard about you are the stories—of a merciless killer, an empress who carved her name in blood and steel. Who would've thought someone like you could even have a heart?" She spun the earring on her finger, her tone almost mocking.
Imai's eyes flashed with fury. "If you lose that earring," she said coldly, her voice sharp as a blade, "I'll kill you. In this world and the next."
Uta chuckled softly, walking toward Imai. She raised a hand, brushing her palm gently against Imai's cheek. The touch was unexpected, almost tender, and it made Imai's breath hitch.
"Maybe," Uta murmured, her voice softer now, "things would've been different if I'd had someone like you. Someone who saw me as the most important thing in their world."
Imai was momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the raw emotion in Uta's eyes. Beneath the layers of sadness and guilt, there was a flicker of longing—a desire for connection, for something she had never truly had.
Before Imai could respond, Uta clipped the earring back onto her ear with deliberate care.
"I'll give it back," Uta said, stepping back slightly, "but I need something from you in return."
With a snap of her fingers, the cubes dissolved, and Imai collapsed forward, her knees weak from the strain. Uta caught her in an almost possessive embrace, holding her firmly.
"What's the favor?" Imai asked, her voice low as she steadied herself against Uta's grasp.
"Prioritize me," Uta whispered into her ear, her tone both commanding and vulnerable. "When everything comes to its resolution—when the world teeters on the edge—I want you to choose me above all else."
Imai's thoughts raced. Uta's intentions were shrouded in ambiguity, but one thing was clear: this was all part of her plan. From the moment Uta had taken the earring, she had set this trap, weaving her web to bind Imai into her schemes.
"So this is your trap card," Imai said with a dry laugh. "Fine. I need you too, after all. In the end, we'll both be using each other. Let's make it worth our while, yeah?"
Uta's smile brightened, genuine for the first time. "I'm glad you understand. Now, let's go. There are people waiting for us."
She held out her hand, and Imai hesitated for only a moment before taking it. Together, they turned into a swirling cascade of stars, vanishing toward the stage.
The golden flash that erupted on the stage caught the navy's attention immediately. Soldiers stumbled back, wary of the new arrival. Their protective gear—designed to shield their senses from Uta's world—had worked so far. But what they hadn't accounted for was Imai.
The Fifth Emperor, a rogue anomaly who shattered expectations, now stood alongside Uta.
"This wasn't in the calculations," Vice Admiral Momonga muttered, his hand gripping his blade.
"No," Fujitora replied, his voice tense. "It seems we underestimated the situation. A grave error on our part."
The two observed as Imai and Uta began cutting through navy forces with devastating precision.
"We have no choice. Let's step in," Fujitora said, unsheathing his blade.
With a powerful leap, he launched himself toward Imai. He drew his blade partially from its sheath, increasing the gravitational force around her. Yet, to his shock, she remained unshaken, her eyes cold and unyielding.
Imai disappeared in a blur, and Fujitora's senses flared as he realized she was no longer in her previous position. She was behind him.
He turned, blocking her strike just in time, but the force of her blade sent him skidding back. His hand trembled from the impact.
"Your skills have grown, Empress," Fujitora said, his voice steady despite the strain.
"Did you think I'd stagnate?" Imai retorted, her voice dripping with disdain. "I don't dwell among the ranks of mediocrity."
Fujitora frowned. "Such arrogance doesn't suit the battlefield. But there's something different about you now. I can sense it."
"You'd better be able to," Imai said, her blade shimmering with haki. "If not, you're not worth my time. Show me what you've got, old man."
Their blades clashed, creating shockwaves that rippled through the battlefield. Each strike came faster than the last, their movements a blur to untrained eyes.
Between strikes, Imai stole glances at Uta, ensuring she was holding her own. To her relief, Uta seemed more than capable of handling Vice Admiral Momonga.
"Let's end this," Imai said, her voice low. She swung her blade in an intricate arc, imbuing it with haki. "Sovereign's One True Cut!"
The attack tore through the air with devastating force. Fujitora barely managed to deflect it, his blade cracking under the strain. He flickered to another position, his breathing heavy. For the first time in years, he felt the chilling touch of death.
"My blade cannot cut," Fujitora said, sheathing his weapon. "There's no point in a battle I cannot win."
Imai lowered her blade but said nothing. Fujitora's question broke the silence.
"How did you escape her world?"
Imai hesitated, her mind replaying the moment Uta had grabbed her face and kissed her. It was unexpected, a gesture filled with raw emotion—desperation, hope, and something more. When the kiss ended, Imai had found herself back in the real world, the sensations of Uta's feelings still lingering.
"I can't tell you," Imai replied, her tone unreadable.
She glanced at Uta, whose gaze met hers with an intensity that made her heart race. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.