"Only one minute left—"
Layla, fully focused on the ritual and the time, had already noticed the disturbance behind her. When she saw Shane charging in, something complicated flashed through her eyes.
"Don't stop me, Shane. You should know… there are things people must do even if they die."
She forced herself to keep her voice calm despite the weakness brought on by the rapid drain of her magic.
"I've… been prepared for this for a long time."
But Shane seemed not to hear her at all. He didn't slow down—he sped up!
For the first time, panic broke through Layla's composure.
She had thought Shane was the steady type, someone who could understand the weight of the mission she carried. He shouldn't be this impulsive at the most critical moment.
"No—no! You can't! The Heartfilia family has waited four hundred years. The Eclipse Gate must—don't—!"
But before she could finish, Shane had already swept past her like a gust of wind.
He didn't attack her, and he didn't disrupt the keys like she expected. Instead, he stopped—firmly—right in front of the Eclipse Gate, which was roaring with power and blazing brighter by the second!
The violent wind of magic whipped his red outfit and cloak into a frenzy, but he stood perfectly straight.
Shane looked back at Layla's stunned face, his tone unnervingly calm.
"My promise to Lucy was to make you smile again.
But if you only survive, and spend the rest of your life drowning in guilt and regret because you failed your duty… then you'll never truly smile again. Right?"
Layla froze. She had no idea what Shane was about to do, and she didn't know how to answer.
Shane didn't wait for an answer. He continued, his voice rising—growing heated, fervent.
"If the Eclipse Gate is missing one key, and a Celestial Spirit Mage can fill the gap with their magic… then that means the key itself isn't absolutely indispensable. Right?"
"Y-yes… that's correct."
Less than thirty seconds remained. Layla was terrified Shane would do something extreme and ruin everything. She could only answer carefully while desperately holding her output steady.
The light on the gate had become so intense it was almost impossible to look at.
"Then—"
Shane's voice suddenly sharpened, and with it, even wilder flames surged outward from his feet as if he meant to ignite the earth itself.
"If that's the case—then if I use another method to fill that gap, I can replace your magic too, right?!"
"Yes! But there's no other way!" Layla cried. "There's no Celestial Spirit Mage stronger than me in the world—and even if there were, they wouldn't be here. There's no time!"
"No. You're wrong. We don't need a Celestial Spirit Mage."
Shane's words were absolute. He spread his arms, and an even more colossal heartflame roared upward.
"If it's a 'gap' in time—"
Layla, dazed, heard the figure wrapped in fire make a declaration that shook the world:
"Then we just use the power that can cut time… and split it open!"
In that instant, the crimson Eye of Karma in his sockets burned to their limit, as if reflecting the causal threads of all things.
The world flipped.
The cold, vast underground space, packed with echoing magic, vanished—replaced by an endless wasteland burning with dark red karmic fire.
The sky was a suffocating rust-red. There were no stars, no moon, no sun—only warped shadows cast by flame.
Countless broken, battered katana of every shape were stabbed into the earth like grave markers, stretching all the way to the horizon.
"W-where… where is this?!" King Toma's voice trembled with horror. He instinctively stumbled back, the oppressive weight in the air nearly crushing his lungs.
Even Layla—still forcing magic through her ritual—flinched in shock.
She could clearly sense it: this world itself contained some vast, indescribable power.
But she regained her focus immediately.
This wasn't the time to question it. The key issue was—
Time. There was no time left!
"Shane!" she shouted urgently at the slender back standing in flame. "Did you do this? Take me back—now! The opening time is almost here!"
Shane slowly turned his head. His profile, lit by karmic fire, looked eerily calm.
"Relax. If I'm going to cut, of course I'll bring the target here too."
His gaze shifted to the center of the wasteland.
The magnificent Eclipse Gate still stood there. Its patterns flickered, utterly out of place in this burning katana graveyard.
"What are you trying to do?!" Layla frowned, completely confused.
The power Shane was displaying was far beyond her understanding. She couldn't even guess his next move.
Shane didn't answer right away. He stepped forward and raised his right hand in a loose grip.
At once, the broken swords around them began to tremble, as if responding to his call. A point of light gathered in his palm, sketching the outline of a blade.
"I'm going to forge a sword," he said. "A sword that can cut open time."
"Cut… time?" Layla repeated faintly, almost believing her magic exhaustion was making her hallucinate.
"Yes."
Shane kept walking.
Wherever he passed, those rusted, chipped, twisted swords cracked and shattered, becoming streams of light that flew into the blade forming in his hand.
"If opening the gate requires your magic to fill the missing key—"
He walked and absorbed the shards of "possibility," the blade in his hand becoming clearer.
"Then if I cut time itself open into a bigger crack—then the force required to open the gate will naturally decrease."
"That's impossible…"
Layla stared at him, feeling the keys' trembling link to the gate, her emotions tangled.
"Look at the swords around you." Shane extended his arm steadily, the half-formed blade pulsing.
"They aren't finished products. They're half-made pieces, prototypes, failures."
As if to prove it, the nearest ring of ruined katana cracked and shattered into dust.
"They're discarded possibilities—thrown away on the road to forging a single 'absolute masterpiece.'"
More and more blades broke as his voice echoed across the wasteland.
"And the remains of all these possible swords—this is the iron ore for the 'absolute masterpiece' I'm forging."
At last, his blade stabilized.
It wasn't any famous Muramasa blade—its form was simpler, purer. The body of the sword was dark red like coagulated blood, like karmic fire sealed inward.
"By refining 'possibility' into 'reality'—"
Shane finally stopped directly before the Eclipse Gate.
Now every last sword in the wasteland shattered completely, and even the endless karmic fire rushed into the dark red blade in his hand in a frenzy.
"This 'absolute masterpiece' forged from collapsed possibilities is the ultimate concept-weapon—an ideal, perfect blade born solely to cut the target in front of me."
"It will change form and nature according to what it needs to cut.
Even time, space, or something abstract—so long as I gather enough possible swords and forge this 'absolute masterpiece,' I can cut it."
He paused, thinking to himself: Even Ivan didn't make me swing this… don't disappoint me.
The final flame in the wasteland was swallowed by the dark red blade.
No theatrics. No speeches.
Shane swung once, solemn and clean.
The dark red slash left the blade, sank into the gate without sound, and left no physical mark.
And in that same instant—the burning wasteland faded like a washed-out painting and disappeared.
The cold underground chamber returned. King Toma stood trembling. The Eclipse Gate blazed like a sun.
And the clock of fate snapped precisely to July 7th, 00:00!
"Now!" Shane roared.
Layla's spirit jolted.
She didn't understand what Shane had done—but as the ritual's host, she could feel it with absolute clarity:
The gate, which had been devouring her magic and life like a bottomless pit, suddenly demanded a "price" light enough for her to bear.
Without hesitation, resolve flashing in her eyes, she poured every last surge of magic into the eleven Zodiac keys!
HUM—!
The keys erupted in unprecedented starlight. That radiance and the dark red trace Shane had carved struck the Eclipse Gate together—like twin forces driving the same destiny—slamming into the door at once!