The wind howled against the helipad, its roaring bdes cutting through the night. The dark sky stretched wide above them, the distant city lights flickering like dying embers.

  Kuroda stood near the helicopter, his coat billowing, one hand casually resting in his pocket while the other adjusted his wrist. Tenzan stood beside him, rolling his shoulders, grinning in anticipation.

  And across from them—Mori. The man they once called the Unbreakable Shield.

  He stood alone, arms at his sides, expression unreadable. But the air around him was shifting—crackling—splitting into two opposing forces. Fire. Ice.

  Half the helipad burned with smoldering heat, warping the air into a mirage of sweltering waves. The other half was drenched in biting cold, ice creeping along the metal, frost forming at Mori’s feet.

  Kuroda clicked his tongue. “I expected better from you, Mori.”

  Mori didn’t react. His voice was calm. “And I expected you to remember who Tamashkii truly belongs to.”

  Kuroda’s lips twitched into something between amusement and disappointment. “Still harping on that? This isn’t about nations, Mori. That’s your problem. You think too small.”

  Mori’s eyes darkened. “You think I’m some misguided nationalist? Don’t be foolish. Japan is where Tamashkii is strongest—this process is simply refining the metal. Japan was meant to lead the way—not be trampled under your delusions.”

  Tenzan let out a bark of ughter, stepping forward. “Oh, that’s rich. The man who was supposed to protect the Musabori is out here trying to py king? You let a Hoju live, brought him to our HQ, and then let him live again. Truly pathetic.”

  Mori’s gaze didn’t waver. “If the throne is at risk of being poisoned, then I’ll crush the snake before it can spread its venom.”

  Kuroda sighed, shaking his head. “And here I thought you’d understand by now.” His voice turned sharp, deliberate. “I’ve asked you before—what is heaven, Mori, if not a pce where all are meant to go?”

  Mori’s jaw tightened. “Not ALL deserve to go there.”

  Kuroda smiled. A slow, eerie smile. “Ahh, and see, that’s why you’re going to lose. I can’t lose to a man who can’t recognize—CHūKAN’S BEAUTY!!”

  A pulse of raw Tamashkii energy exploded from both sides. Mori’s aura expanded—half scorching red, half frigid blue—his very presence warping the battlefield. The temperature around them shifted violently. The helicopter’s metal groaned under the pressure.

  Tenzan stepped forward. His bracelet gleamed. “Oh, first I get moonlight, now it’s fire and ice. What a day it’s been.”

  Mori’s expression remained unreadable, but his movements spoke volumes. His right arm tensed, fmes coiling around his fist like a serpent ready to strike.

  Then—he swung.

  A detonation of heat erupted from his strike, the sheer force of it igniting the very air itself. The ground beneath them cracked as a blinding wave of fire roared toward Tenzan.

  Tenzan barely had time to brace before the fmes crashed into him, searing through his defenses, sending him staggering back.

  But Mori wasn’t done.

  With the same fluidity, he swung his left hand. The fire dissipated in an instant, repced by a violent eruption of jagged ice shards—razor-sharp and unforgiving. The temperature plummeted, the battlefield shifting between extremes as the frozen projectiles unched forward.

  Tenzan had no time to react.

  The impact was brutal—the ice smmed into his torso, the sheer force sending him crashing backward, his body hurtling straight into the side of the waiting helicopter.

  The metal groaned under the impact, denting inward as Tenzan coughed violently, ice fractals spreading across his chest.

  Kuroda barely moved as Tenzan staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. His breaths came ragged, uneven—but his eyes still burned with an undeniable, ruthless resolve.

  “I see,” Kuroda murmured, adjusting his cuff with a deliberate slowness. “Even with all that power, you still aren’t enough.”

  Tenzan clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.

  He knew it too.

  Against Mori, even at his peak, he was falling short.

  Kuroda exhaled through his nose, as if mildly inconvenienced. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a small core materialized between his fingers—bck as void, pulsing with eerie, unstable energy.

  “Take it.” His voice was almost bored.

  Tenzan’s gaze flickered to the core, his breathing shallow. The energy radiating from it was suffocating, oppressive—wrong.

  But he didn’t hesitate.

  He grabbed it.

  And the moment his fingers closed around the core—

  Agony.

  A raw, unbearable heat surged through his veins, consuming him from the inside out. His body jerked violently, muscles spasming as the core’s energy merged into his very being.

  A strangled, guttural sound ripped from his throat.

  His skin darkened, veins bulging, his aura twisting into something unrecognizable.

  The transformation was not seamless. It was brutal.

  His limbs contorted unnaturally, his flesh cracking as if struggling to contain the sheer magnitude of power coursing through him.

  His breath hitched. His vision blurred.

  But when the surge finally settled—when the chaos within him reached equilibrium—

  Tenzan was something else entirely.

  The air around him quaked, the sheer weight of his presence pressing down on everything nearby. His once-human form had been altered, enhanced.

  His aura, once wild and unstable, now exuded a terrifying precision.

  His fingers flexed, the raw power beneath them begging to be unleashed.

  A slow exhale.

  His eyes flicked open—now burning with a deep, corrupted glow.

  Kuroda smiled. “Much better.”

  Tenzan thrust his hand forward.

  “Take Form—Kagutsuchi!”

  A burst of molten steel erupted from his arms, twisting and reforming into towering, jagged bdes of fire.

  The ground beneath him cracked from the sheer heat radiating from his body.

  Mori exhaled sharply.

  “Take Form—Tengoku no Hachirin.”

  Eight spectral katanas manifested behind him, each one pulsing with alternating waves of fire and ice. A true warrior of heaven, wielding the elements of judgment.

  Tenzan smirked. “Oh, this one is gonna be fun.”

  Then—he vanished.

  The first strike shook the entire helipad.

  Mori barely had time to react.

  Tenzan appeared in front of him, swinging his molten bdes down with monstrous force.

  Mori’s body moved on instinct—his arms crossed, ice meeting fire.

  The impact sent a shockwave through the night.

  The ice shattered. The heat surged forward.

  Mori gritted his teeth.

  Tenzan wasn’t just faster—he was a monster now.

  Tenzan let out a wild ugh, his attacks relentless.

  Bdes of fire sshed through the air.

  Mori dodged left, right, parried—his own energy barely keeping up.

  Kuroda watched, calm as ever.

  His hands stayed in his pockets.

  He never needed to lift a finger.

  Because this was inevitable.

  Mori twisted his stance, ice forming along his arms. With a sharp motion, he unleashed a bst of frigid wind, aiming to freeze Tenzan in pce.

  But Tenzan—Tenzan was too fast.

  The enhanced core burned through the ice in an instant.

  Tenzan’s fist smmed into Mori’s ribs—sending him skidding back.

  For the first time in decades—Mori coughed up blood.

  Kuroda smirked.

  And then—a beam of raw energy tore through Mori’s back.

  Mori lurched forward, blood dripping from his mouth. His fingers trembled, his knees buckling. His vision blurred.

  “Japan… This country is where tamashkii originated. We should be the only ones allowed to see Chūkan. We should be the first ones to ascend… even if a hundred must die for a thousand to be reborn… It should be us.”

  His thoughts drifted.

  Had he done enough?

  Had he truly protected Japan?

  Mori took a slow, ragged breath.

  ”…The weak will be culled. The strong will ascend. That’s how it’s always been…”

  Then—he spun.

  His hand gripped Kuroda’s throat.

  “Tengoku no Kaijin—Final Judgment!”

  The sky split apart.

  The battlefield turned into an inferno.

  The heat turned the air into a desert wastend.

  The cold reached absolute zero.

  The earth cracked.

  The helicopter tilted violently.

  Kuroda winced, his face twisting for the first time in years.

  Fmes and ice covered his body.

  Then—

  Tenzan recovered.

  “You never were one to make sure the target was dead, huh?”

  His molten bde sliced through Mori’s neck.

  Mori’s grip loosened.

  His body trembled.

  And then, with a quiet exhale—he fell.

  Blood pooled beneath him.

  The world was silent for half a second.

  Until Tenzan let out a slow breath.

  “Well, that was dramatic.”

  Kuroda adjusted his coat.

  His eyes flickered to Mori’s fallen body.

  “A selfish fool to the end. People like him getting to see Chūkan before me is simply bsphemous.”

  Tenzan cracked his knuckles.

  ”…Alright, let’s get this core out of me now so I can go back to normal. I can’t even think to myself with this much energy surging.”

  Kuroda barely gnced at him.

  “Get it out?”

  Tenzan frowned.

  “Yeah, you can remove it, right?”

  Kuroda’s smile widened.

  “You signed up to be my experiment, did you not?”

  Tenzan’s breath hitched.

  “Wait—”

  Kuroda lifted his hand.

  His lips parted.

  “Initiate.”

  The world turned bck.

  And for the first time since Mori fell, Tenzan thought about the way his body hit the ground.

  About the way his eyes dulled before they even closed.

  About how Kuroda never even looked.

  And suddenly, the fear set in.