Kazuichi's heart thundered in his chest, each beat carrying the weight of grief, anger, and a grim satisfaction as he faced Hayato. Around them, the battlefield lay in shambles, a wasteland littered with the twisted remains of the monstrous hybrids, their grotesque forms still in the eerie, stillness of defeat. The air reeked of ash, blood, and sweat—a vile reminder of the destruction Hayato had unleashed upon everything Kazuichi held dear.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, a flicker of memories flashing through his mind. Kaito's laughter, his courage in the heat of battle, his unwavering loyalty—they were all seared into Kazuichi's mind, only to be torn away in the chaos of Hayato's schemes. He could still feel the sting of loss gnawing at his chest, but standing here, face-to-face with the man responsible, that pain transformed, twisting into a cold, unyielding resolve.
