The night sky split.
Not with lightning — but with a single, soundless crack that rippled across the heavens like a wound opening over the world. Akira felt it first. Yamitsurugi vibrated violently against his chest, the pendant throbbing like a second heartbeat.
He stopped mid-step outside his home, eyes tightening as the air thickened with a pressure he hadn't felt since the Sovereign. The street went still. The lamps flickered. Even the wind froze, as though waiting for something to arrive.
Masahiro's voice echoed inside him, sharp and urgent.
"Kid… brace yourself. They're coming."
A cold shiver ran down Akira's spine. "All of them?"
"…Yes."
The ground beneath his feet cracked open like dry bone.
Shadows burst upward — not like smoke, but like living bodies ripping through the pavement. Eight monstrous figures emerged, their silhouettes stretching into the sky, bending reality around them.
Hex. Inferno. Dread. Avarice. Malice. Venom. Vortex. Ruin.
Each one radiated a unique, suffocating aura — enough to crush the breath from the air.
Akira stepped back instinctively, teeth clenched. "Not here… not in the city."
But he didn't need to decide anything.
Ryozen appeared behind him in a burst of gold and black light, coat whipping violently. His eyes widened at the sight of the eight shadows clawing their way into the human realm.
"No," he muttered sharply. "Not this world."
The shadows turned toward Akira and Ryozen with smiles that split too wide, too sharp, too wrong.
Inferno's voice boomed first — a bass that vibrated the street. "Found him."
Dread's serpent-like tongue slid across its teeth. "Little reincarnation… little spark…"
Vortex's voice was an echo wrapped in an echo. "The vessel evolves."
Akira raised his blade — the pendant bursting open into its full form, Yamitsurugi emerging as a sleek obsidian weapon streaked with silver.
But Ryozen moved before Akira could.
His hand slammed into the ground.
A golden sigil exploded outward, swallowing the street.
The world inverted.
Gravity collapsed in a spiral of colors, light, and screaming shadows as everything — Akira, Ryozen, the eight shadows — was ripped out of the human realm and thrown into a plane of fractured, swirling void.
The Void Arena formed around them.
Dark skies. Floating ruins. Rivers of starlit dust. Mountains made of broken memories.
Akira landed hard, sliding across a bed of cracked obsidian. The shadows landed with thunderous impacts, their roars shaking the entire dimension. Ryozen touched down lightly, the Wheel of Samsara flickering behind him.
"You fight here," he said coldly, "or not at all."
Shadows howled in agreement.
Akira rose, Yamitsurugi trembling with anticipation. His heart pounded — not in fear, but with a strange, burning exhilaration.
Masahiro spoke again.
"Listen carefully, kid. You're about to see the true nature of the Twelve."
Inferno moved first — a living furnace, its skin molten magma dripping as it charged. The heat alone forced Akira a step back.
Ryozen blocked its first strike with his arm.
The entire void shook.
"Akira!" he shouted. "Move!"
Akira vanished using Veil Step. He reappeared behind Venom, slashing straight through its ribcage. But its body dissolved into poison mist, reformed behind him, and stabbed with a tail dripping with venom that corroded the air.
Akira twisted aside — barely.
Malice cackled, claws dragging across its chest. "He bleeds nicely."
Avarice reached out a hand, threads of gold and black wrapping toward Akira's aura as though trying to steal it.
Ruin stomped the ground, creating shockwaves that shattered floating platforms and sent debris exploding through the air.
Dread's serpents lunged from its back, jaws snapping inches from Akira's throat.
Vortex spread its arms, distorting space — creating duplicates of itself moving in all directions.
Inferno charged again.
The eight shadows attacked together.
Akira's body blurred, slashing, dodging, rolling, teleporting — but every time he struck, they reformed. Every cut regenerated. Every wound healed instantly.
He gritted his teeth. "Damn it — they're not giving any openings!"
Ryozen, holding off two shadows by himself, yelled back: "They're not meant to be fought alone! These monsters leveled nations in Masahiro's era!"
Yamitsurugi pulsed.
Masahiro's voice growled:
"Stop fighting their bodies! Fight their essence!"
Akira's eyes widened. He raised Yamitsurugi.
The blade hummed, black light weaving along its edge.
He stepped forward.
Inferno stomped — releasing a geyser of molten fire. Akira leaped above it, spinning once midair, and slashed downward.
The cut split space itself.
Inferno staggered, its molten body cracking.
The others paused.
Dread hissed. "He's adapting."
Vortex tilted its head sideways, analyzing. "Too quickly."
Avarice whispered, "He is indeed… the light."
Before Akira could continue the assault, the void trembled — violently.
Ryozen froze. Akira's eyes widened.
A cold, familiar voice crawled through the darkness.
"Akiraaaaa…"
Ren.
His presence slammed into the arena like a meteor. A black rift tore open high above them, and Ren descended slowly, his hair whipping wildly, his veins pulsing purple-black. His eyes were glowing spirals of violet void.
The shadows turned toward him.
Inferno bowed. "The Heir comes."
Ruin kneeled slightly. "The horn of Oblivion… grows."
Akira stared up in disbelief. "Ren…?"
A twisted, broken smile crawled across Ren's face.
"Oh, Akira. I'm not finished with you."
Ryozen stepped forward, but a sudden pressure pushed him back — Ren's aura flared so violently that even a Samsara-wielder had to brace himself.
Ren descended until his feet touched the cracked ground.
The shadows parted for him.
He stepped into the center — between Akira and the eight shadows — and the ground beneath him pulsed like a beating heart.
Something gleamed at Ren's side.
A weapon.
A jagged, obsidian blade, veined with pulsing purple.
Varek's parting gift.
The Black Monarch Heart forged into a sword.
Ren gripped it tightly, his smile widening.
"Akira… ready to lose everything again?"
Akira's heartbeat spiked — rage and grief twisting deep inside him.
Ren looked different.
Not like a boy consumed by darkness.
But like a king ascending to his throne.
A single black horn jutted from the right side of his skull, glowing with demonic energy.
Masahiro's voice turned grim.
"Kid… that's not Ren anymore. That's the Heir of Oblivion ascending."
Akira didn't move.
Ren raised his blade.
"Round two," he whispered.
Everything exploded.
Inferno and Venom leaped toward Ryozen.
Dread and Avarice rushed to support Ren.
Vortex and Ruin circled behind, blocking escape routes.
Akira dashed forward.
Yamitsurugi clashed against Ren's black blade.
The shockwave split the void floor open, sending massive chunks of land drifting upward like asteroids.
Ren's power soared beyond anything Akira expected.
Their blades scraped, sparks exploding — not metal sparks, but threads of torn reality.
Ren swung down.
Akira blocked — but the impact hurled him across the battlefield, smashing him through a floating ruin.
He coughed blood, pushing himself up. "Damn… he's really—"
Ren was already behind him.
The blade grazed Akira's cheek — opening a thin cut that sizzled with purple void energy.
Ren licked the blood from the edge of his sword.
"Masahiro would be disappointed… his reincarnation is this slow."
Akira's eyes ignited with fury.
He dashed forward again.
Their blades collided again — faster, harder, louder.
Ryozen, holding back multiple shadows, shouted, "Kid! You can't take him alone!"
Akira didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Every thought was drowned by the need to reach Ren.
Ren's laughter echoed through the arena. "Come on! Show me your light! SHOW ME YOUR WAR!"
Akira roared and spun into Astral Obliteration — but Ren caught the blade with one hand, stopping it entirely.
Akira's eyes widened.
Ren leaned close.
"You're not ready."
He twisted — shattering Akira's stance.
The aura around Ren surged violently, purple-black waves consuming the arena.
His horn glowed brighter.
Masahiro whispered, horrified.
"The First Gate of Oblivion… he's opening it."
Akira's breath caught.
Ren stepped forward, raising the Monarch blade high.
"Let me show you… what real despair feels like."
Black lightning erupted from his horn, splitting the sky.
Eight shadows bowed to him.
Ryozen grit his teeth. "This is bad… this is very, very bad."
Akira stood, trembling, Yamitsurugi pulsing with equal fury.
Ren smiled wider.
And the transformation began.
His spine cracked, reshaping.
His aura doubled, tripled.
Dark tendrils wrapped his arms.
His horn lengthened into a twisted, obsidian spike.
His pupils became narrow void spirals.
His voice distorted.
"You're not fighting Ren…"
The ground beneath him shattered into dust.
"You're fighting Oblivion's chosen."
Akira's heart dropped.
Masahiro's voice trembled faintly — something he rarely did.
"…Kid… brace yourself."
Ren lifted his blade one more time.
The shadows roared with him.
The void shook violently.
Akira tightened his grip.
The war had truly begun.