The ground changed beneath our feet.
One mont, it was void. The next—thread.
Woven lines of gold and black spiraled underfoot, tightening with each step like a loom snapping into place.
Then they faded.
And the world reford.
Not all at once.
First ca the sll—pine and soot and wet earth. Then ca color—ashen reds, storm-grey blues, gold like lantern light reflected in water.
Then sound.
Distant. Echoing.
Steel.
We stepped onto a battlefield made of mory.
Half of it was the garden from Rin's estate. The other half, the pine clearing from Genzo's training. Fragnts of Shuji's broken shop rose behind us. A fallen torii split the sky above, crooked and burning faintly from one side.
The edges of the world curved upward.
As if we stood inside the bottom of a cracked bowl.
And around the rim—they descended.
Shikigami.
Dozens. Hundreds.
Masks glowing. Limbs folding in unnatural rhythms. Each one ford from a fracture, a wound, a forgotten path.
***
In the center, they stood waiting.
Rin. Shuji. Tatsuya. Sayo.
Backs to one another.
Breathing hard. Faces bloodied. But still standing.
They didn't look surprised to see us.
Just relieved.
Rin turned first. "You took your ti."
I stepped beside her.
Genzo moved to Tatsuya's side.
The younger man nodded, breath shallow. "You fight?"
"I protect," Genzo said, drawing his blade.
***
Above us, the sky pulsed once.
A hole tore through the clouds—not fire. Not shadow.
But unthreading.
And from that tear—
She descended.
Not with wings.
Not with force.
Just presence.
The woman in indigo robes.
Still masked. Still silent.
But this ti, we all felt it.
Sothing deep in our blood turned cold.
The shikigami parted around her, circling us like hounds held back by leash and command.
Her hand rose.
Not to speak.
But to judge.
And the army charged.
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