"A blade remembers its master, but some masters were never meant to wield a blade."
The mountain wind howled through the ruins, carrying the scent of stone, iron, and something else—something old.
Rei stood motionless, Kiyoshi's words still lingering in the cold air.
"The same thing you are, Rei Aozora. A weapon that was never meant to exist."
His grip on Muramasa tightened.
The weight of the blade suddenly felt different—heavier, colder, sharper in ways that had nothing to do with steel.
Kiyoshi watched him carefully, his hands still clasped behind his back, his posture calm. Too calm.
He had just said something that should have changed everything—should have been impossible.
And yet, he wasn't waiting for a reaction.
He was waiting for understanding.
Rei clenched his jaw.
He didn't like this.
Didn't like the feeling sinking into his bones, like something deep inside him was waking up.
Like some part of him already knew what Kiyoshi meant.
He exhaled sharply.
"Explain."
Kiyoshi's lips curled into a faint smile.
"You're asking the right questions now."
"You were an Exorcist once," Kiyoshi began, stepping forward slowly. "Sworn to the Divine Oath. Blessed by the Dominion."
Rei didn't respond.
Because Kiyoshi wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.
But then—
"You were also a Fallen. A man who lost his Oath and gained a Sin Covenant in return."
Ren shifted beside him, her eyes flickering between them.
"Yeah," she muttered. "We get it. What's your point?"
Kiyoshi ignored her.
His obsidian eyes locked onto Rei's.
"My point," he said smoothly, "is that neither the Divine nor the Abyss should have allowed you to survive."
Rei stilled.
Something cold twisted in his chest.
Kiyoshi continued.
"You should have died the moment your Divine Oath was broken." His voice was calm—too calm. "You should have been consumed by the Abyss when you lost your faith. You should have been claimed by one or the other."
He tilted his head slightly.
"But instead, you remained."
The mountain air grew colder.
"You became something that should not be possible."
His eyes flickered to the sword in Rei's hands.
"And so did your blade."
Rei inhaled slowly.
Something about what Kiyoshi was saying felt right.
Familiar.
Like it was something he had always known but never dared to acknowledge.
Muramasa wasn't just any sword.
It wasn't forged in the Dominion.
It wasn't corrupted by the Abyss.
It was something else.
Something that existed outside of both.
Something that had survived, just as he had.
And if that was true—
If Muramasa had never belonged to either side—
Then what, exactly, had he been wielding all this time?
His pulse pounded in his ears.
"This blade…" he murmured. "It doesn't come from the Dominion. It doesn't come from the Abyss."
Kiyoshi nodded.
"Exactly."
Rei's stomach twisted.
"Then where does it come from?"
Kiyoshi's smile widened.
"That," he said, "is the real question, isn't it?"
Rei exhaled, slow and controlled.
His fingers brushed over the blackened steel of Muramasa.
The blade was warm.
Not from heat.
From something deeper.
Something that almost felt like a heartbeat.
Ren crossed her arms, watching them both carefully.
"Alright," she muttered. "I've had enough of the cryptic nonsense. If this sword is some big mystery, what the hell do we do now?"
Kiyoshi chuckled.
"A good question, but not one for me to answer."
Rei frowned. "Then who?"
Kiyoshi took another step forward, lowering his voice.
"Your blade remembers," he murmured. "But you do not."
He reached out, tapping the flat of Muramasa's blade with a single finger.
The second his skin made contact—
The world shattered.
Darkness.
Then—
Flashes of light.
A battlefield.
Not one Rei had ever fought on.
Not one from any war he had known.
But it felt familiar.
A sky drenched in black fire.
Swords clashing in the storm.
Figures moving like phantoms, their bodies wrapped in flowing, tattered cloaks.
And at the center—
A warrior stood alone.
A blade clutched in their hands.
Muramasa.
But it wasn't Rei wielding it.
It was someone else.
Someone from long, long ago.
And as the memory pulsed through his mind, as the vision burned itself into his senses, one thought sank deep into his bones—
This sword is older than me.
Older than the Dominion.
Older than the Abyss.
Muramasa had been wielded before.
By another.
By many.
By warriors long forgotten.
And every single one of them had been erased from history.
Why?
Because this sword was not meant to exist.
And neither was he.
Rei gasped, his body jerking back into reality.
His breath came fast, uneven, his pulse hammering against his ribs.
The shrine. The mountain. Kiyoshi and Ren.
All of it came back into focus.
Muramasa was still in his hands.
But now, he understood.
This blade… this thing he had wielded for years…
It was never meant to be his.
It had belonged to others before him.
And every single one of them had been erased.
The weight of that realization sank into him.
Deep. Cold. Unshakable.
His grip tightened.
Kiyoshi was watching him carefully.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Rei's jaw clenched.
"What is this sword?"
Kiyoshi smiled, stepping back.
"A relic of something long buried," he said. "A fragment of a war that was never recorded."
He gestured toward the blade.
"And you, Rei Aozora, are now part of that history."
The wind picked up.
Ren shifted beside him, uneasy.
Kiyoshi's voice lowered.
"The Dominion will not allow it to exist. The Abyss will not allow it to exist."
He tilted his head slightly.
"And yet… it does."
His gaze locked onto Rei's.
"And so do you."
The words settled like iron in Rei's chest.
This wasn't just about a sword anymore.
This was about something bigger.
Something neither the Dominion nor the Abyss wanted him to remember.
But Muramasa did.
And now, so did he.
Rei exhaled.
The past was coming for him.
And this time, he couldn't run.