Wind howled through the ruins.
Akari stood motionless, staring at the empty space where Ryuji had been. Her fingers clenched around her katana, knuckles turning white.
Her breath was shallow. "He left me…"
The words tasted like poison.
The battlefield, once filled with the clash of steel and cries of warriors, was now silent. Only the broken weapons and bloodstained earth remained.
Then, the rage hit.
She slammed her katana into the ground, her voice echoing through the empty battlefield.
"DAMN IT!!"
The ground beneath her trembled. The air around her warped with raw energy. She had fought for him. She had bled for him. And he…
He left.
No.
Her grip tightened.
If Ryuji wouldn't come back—she would drag him back.
A sharp voice cut through her fury.
"You shouldn't be here alone."
Akari's head snapped up.
A man stood on the ruined path, wrapped in a black cloak. His face hidden in the shadows of his hood. But the aura around him was suffocating.
"Who the hell are you?" Akari spat, raising her katana.
The man chuckled. "A messenger."
Akari's instincts screamed. She moved—fast.
SLASH!
Her katana cut through the air—but hit nothing.
The man was gone.
Then, a whisper brushed her ear.
"He's already gone, girl. You'll never reach him in time."
Akari's heart pounded.
She spun, slashing wildly—but the man was gone.
Only his words remained.
Ryuji staggered as he and Kenshiro materialized inside a dark, massive hall.
The walls were carved with ancient runes, glowing faintly. The air was heavy—charged with something unseen.
Ryuji clenched his fists. "Where are we?"
Kenshiro walked ahead, not turning. "Your new home."
Ryuji's pulse quickened.
"This isn't my home."
Kenshiro chuckled. "Not yet."
Before Ryuji could respond—
A blade shot toward his throat.
CLANG!
Ryuji barely blocked it, his broken sword struggling under the force.
A towering figure loomed over him, silver armor gleaming under the dim light. His cold eyes studied Ryuji with disappointment.
"This is the one you chose, Kenshiro?" the warrior muttered. "He's weak."
Ryuji's jaw clenched. "Try me."
The warrior's lips curled into a smirk.
Then he vanished.
A dagger flew toward Ryuji's ribs.
He twisted—barely dodging. Another strike—faster this time.
Too fast.
THUD!
Pain exploded in his arm as the warrior caught his wrist, twisted it—slammed him into the stone floor.
Ryuji gasped, his vision blurring.
The warrior pressed his boot against Ryuji's chest. "Weaklings don't belong here."
Ryuji gritted his teeth.
A familiar heat surged in his veins. The same power that had stirred against Kenshiro.
He shoved forward.
A gust of energy erupted from him—sending the warrior flying.
Silence.
Kenshiro, watching from the side, smirked. "You still don't get it, do you?"
Ryuji panted. "Get what?"
Kenshiro knelt beside him. "You already made your choice."
Ryuji's heart pounded.
"You left her behind," Kenshiro whispered. "And she won't wait for you."
Ryuji's fingers curled into fists.
The ruins of the city stretched endlessly.
Akari ran, each step a declaration of war. She wouldn't stop.
Not until she reached him.
Ryuji.
A shadow moved ahead.
She halted.
A man blocked her path, sword resting lazily on his shoulder. His smirk sent chills down her spine.
"You're in my way," she growled.
The man chuckled. "And what if I am?"
Akari's grip on her katana tightened.
"Then I'll cut through you."
The hunt had begun.