Rei couldn't move.
Akame's footsteps approached with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each one sinking into the silence like weight added to his chest. Rei's muscles trembled, frozen in place as if his own body had turned against him.
I… can't move. Is this fear? His breaths came shallow. Every instinct is telling me to run… so why can't I?
Akame's presence pressed against him—calm, unhurried, but suffocating. The warehouse seemed to shrink around them, leaving only Rei, the night air, and those approaching steps.
Just when Akame was within arm's reach, a surge of water split the air.
"Water Magic: Torrent!"
A roaring stream cut between them, smashing into crates and sending wood splintering across the floor. Akame shifted back with a single effortless step, letting the torrent pass as though it were nothing more than wind brushing his coat.
Kazuo landed beside Rei, breath sharp, stance defensive. "Rei! Are you okay?"
Rei didn't answer. His eyes were locked on Akame—specifically, on his face. Kazuo followed Rei's stare and froze.
Those eyes.
Deep, unnatural red—nothing like he had ever seen.
"Your eyes…" Kazuo whispered. "They… they're red. I've never seen eyes like this. They—"
Akame's voice slid cleanly through his words, soft and composed:
"—shouldn't exist?"
Kazuo flinched. The way Akame spoke felt less like a statement and more like an observation carved into stone.
Akame continued, tone calm and almost reflective. "Do not confuse our situations. We are not the same. Your eyes are a contradiction to the order—an affront to the balance. They threaten both sides and will drag this dying land toward ruin."
His gaze sharpened just slightly.
"Mine are a rejection from the world itself."
Kazuo steadied his stance. "What are you talking about?"
His eyes caught movement—Akame's cloak shifted, revealing a stitched symbol in faint silver thread. An inverted lotus.
Kazuo's breath caught, his heartbeat stumbling.
"Hold on… that symbol." His eyes fixed on the cloak, the memory slamming into him. "I've seen this before. In the Hollow Veins—when that man passed me and whispered 'you shouldn't exist.'"
His voice sharpened. "So I wasn't hallucinating that night. I recognize you. We've met before."
Akame studied him for a moment. "How strange. I came to see for myself what our leader claims to see in you. But after observing you for so long, I still do not understand it."
His expression barely changed. "And now you present yourself here, directly before me."
Kazuo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, forcing his breathing to steady. His fingers closed around his sword hilt, and with a sharp pull, he unsheathed his blade, the steel catching the faint warehouse light.
"Answer me," Kazuo demanded. "Who are you? What is the meaning of this Lotus?"
Akame didn't flinch. His eyes drifted shut for a brief moment, as if Kazuo's drawn weapon merely confirmed an inevitability.
"So you choose the sword." His tone was calm, almost respectful. "Very well. Now that you have bared your blade… are you prepared to face death?"
Kazuo blinked, thrown for a moment by the archaic, almost ritualistic phrasing. Prepared to face death? Who talks like that? He barely understood the man's words, but the meaning was clear enough.
This was no ordinary opponent. Escape seemed impossible. Kazuo's pulse hammered as he weighed his choices—fight, stall for an opening, or flee.
Rei swallowed hard and forced the words out, desperation scraping his throat."Kazuo, listen! He wasn't alone—there's anoth—"
Akame flickered out of sight.
In the space of a heartbeat, Akame was right in front of Rei, fingers locking around his throat. The pressure was instant and brutal—Rei's breath died in his chest before he could gasp, crushing his throat.
"Argh!!" I… can't… speak…
The thought flickered through his mind as his voice strangled into silence. Blood bubbled past his lips and dripped down Akame's hand.
Rei's eyes widened in panic as his feet left the ground—then Akame flung him across the warehouse with effortless force.
"REI!" Kazuo's scream tore from his lungs as Rei's body smashed through a stack of wooden crates, coughing blood as splintered wood scattered across the floor.
Kazuo stared at Akame, who hadn't moved from his spot—standing there, calm, gaze fixed on Rei as if he were already a corpse.
Too fast.
The realization struck like ice down Kazuo's spine.
Even faster than Aoi during his Esoteric Art… I couldn't keep up. I didn't see a single step—not even the sound of movement.
His heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
Rei's hands shot to his neck, eyes wide, blood running between his fingers. He tried to rise, but his body refused to obey.
Kazuo lunged toward him—instinct overriding thought—but Akame stepped into his path, appearing between them like a shadow taking form.
Before Kazuo could react, Akame's palm struck his chest. It wasn't a punch—just an open-handed tap, effortless and precise.
The impact detonated through Kazuo's ribs, blasting the air from his lungs. He was lifted off his feet and hurled across the warehouse, crashing into the far wall. His body folded around the hit, pain tearing through him like vibrating steel.
He crashed to the ground, vision swimming. Kazuo forced himself onto his hands and knees, desperate to stand—only for a sharp, twisting pain to seize his gut. His stomach lurched violently, and he clutched his abdomen as vomit spilled onto the floor, bile burning up his throat.
His arms shook beneath him. Breath refused to come.
Akame hadn't even looked at him.
Kazuo's body trembled as he pushed himself up. That wasn't magic… that was just his strength…?
The warehouse seemed to hold its breath.
Kazuo forced himself upright, one trembling breath at a time. His chest burned as if the strike had cracked something inside him. The distance between him and Rei felt impossibly wide—like Akame had carved a boundary into the world that Kazuo wasn't meant to cross.
He coughed, pressing a hand to his ribs. Damn it… I can't use my Arcane here. The space is too tight—Rei would get caught in it. And this pressure… His fingers tingled, as if the air itself resisted his magic. Is it because of him? Just forming a spell feels heavy. One wrong move, and I'm dead. I need to get Rei out—whatever it takes.
He raised his sword slightly, not fully, just enough to keep Akame's eyes on him. "You're here for me… aren't you? Why?"
A faint exhale—not quite a sigh. "Another question." Akame's tone held neither annoyance nor interest, only observation. "Your curiosity gnaws at you. Very well. I will answer one of your questions truthfully—if you answer mine."
He lifted one hand and unclasped the cloak at his neck. The fabric slid from his shoulders and fell silently to the floor. Beneath it, he wore a black-and-red ronin-style attire, clean and unadorned, built for movement. At his hip rested a sheathed katana—not drawn, yet it commanded the space around it with a quiet authority.
Kazuo couldn't read him. There was no malice, no mockery—just a calm certainty that made his stomach tighten. He had no option but to play along. "Then tell me this: who do you belong to?"
Akame answered without hesitation. "My name is Akame. And if you ask to whom I belong—then to the one you call the Inverted Lotus. Our true name is Shinkai."
Kazuo faltered, guard dipping for a heartbeat. "Shin…kai?" The name felt foreign on his tongue. "What does that mean? What do you want—"
Akame silenced the rest with a single look. "Questions come at a price. Now, your turn."
He rested his hand on the katana's hilt and drew it in one fluid motion. The blade cleared the sheath with a whisper of steel—and a sudden pressure burst through the room, a gust of wind rippling through the dusty air. Rei, still on the floor, flinched and covered his face.
Kazuo's mind locked onto the weapon. This katana… it has aura around it. I can sense it clearly. It feels… awake. Alive.
Akame ran a finger along the blade, looking at his reflection in the polished silver edge. Though the scabbard and fittings were black and red, the steel itself shone a cold, immaculate silver.
"This sword is named Kotetsu," Akame said. "One of the four Sacred Weapons, forged in an era your history has buried."
Rei coughed between the boxes, struggling to stay conscious. Akame did not spare him a glance. His attention sharpened solely on Kazuo.
"Now, Kazuo…" He raised the blade—not aggressively, but as though presenting a riddle to be solved. "My question to you."
Silence pressed in, heavy enough to suffocate.
Akame's eyes met his, steady and unreadable.
"What is the meaning of life?"