The silence in the Barrier Colony was unnatural, broken only by the crackling of distorted reality. The team froze, watching the icy figure of Raidou, whose appearance froze the very possibility of conflict between old enemies. And at that moment, space spoke.
It wasn't a sound, not a voice. It was a mental impulse crashing directly into their consciousness, cold, impersonal, and all-encompassing, like the law of gravity itself.
«Welcome, pawns and contenders. Call it what you will. I call it the Game of Shattered Epochs.»
Kaede gasped, clutching her temples. Ryūnosuke clenched his fists. Akira felt an alien will slide along the edge of his void, unable to penetrate it but sensing its presence.
«This is a ritual of forced evolution. My goal? I'll be honest. To create a new, perfect Scar—the 'Scar of the Apocalypse.' It will rewrite the laws of reality, submitting it to the will of the Organizer. That is, to me.»
"He... he's not joking," Shiori whispered, her face pale. "He's talking about a fundamental change of the world..."
«Let me explain for the idiots,» the voice continued, and a cold mockery was heard in its 'tone.' «Across all of Japan—ten spheres of condensed reality. In each—its own rules. Time, space, the very nature of Kokuro are distorted. Inside them are keys. Artifacts or relics of incredible power.»
A mental image pierced their consciousness: ten glowing symbols scattered across the colonies.
«Your task is to collect them. Fight. Survive. Kill. A player's death is not a tragedy. It is acceleration. The released energy feeds the ritual, bringing the birth of my Scar closer.»
Kagetori, who until now had been listening with closed eyes and a slight smile, slowly opened them. His golden pupils held no trace of playfulness. They burned with the cold, ruthless fire of a hunter who had tracked his true prey.
"A pump," he said quietly. "He's draining our life force to grow his cursed fruit. Interesting... So victory isn't in collecting the keys. Victory is in finding and crushing the gardener himself."
«The last one holding all ten keys... will receive a 'prize,'» the Organizer's voice became sweet as poison again. «What is it? That's my little secret. The intrigue, pseudo-masters. Enjoy the show.»
The mental impulse vanished as suddenly as it appeared. The pressure lifted. But the realization remained—they were cattle for slaughter, and their death was merely fuel.
At that moment, Akira, instinctively trying to shield himself from the alien will, involuntarily activated his "Zone." A small bubble of absolute silence and stability, a couple of meters in diameter, appeared around him. Inside it, the distorted Kokuro of the colony quieted. The laws of reality inside the bubble returned to normal.
"What's that?" Ryūnosuke turned, feeling the sudden calm.
"Stability," Kaede said, looking at Akira with a new, reevaluating gaze. "He creates a zone where the Game's rules don't work."
Akira met Kagetori's gaze. He looked at him not as a student, but as a strategic asset. In this Game where everything was against them, Akira's ability to create sanctuaries was invaluable.
Their thoughts were interrupted by a roar. In the distance, at the foot of the glass field, two forces clashed. Shiroyama Raidou and Homura Enen.
It wasn't a prolonged battle. It was an exchange of principles. Raidou raised his hand, and the space before him froze, trying to catch and freeze the very concept of flame. Homura responded by thrusting her palm forward. White, silent flame met absolute cold. There was no explosion. There was mutual annihilation. The flame died, unable to burn the ice, and the ice melted, unable to freeze the flame. They stood for several seconds in a stalemate, their forces mutually destroying each other.
Then Homura, without changing her expression, turned and walked away, her white kimono disappearing into the twisted haze of the colony. Raidou lowered his hand. On his usually impassive face, a shadow of... respect flickered. They understood that direct confrontation was pointless. They were two sides of the same coin—destruction—and their duel could last forever.
It was at that moment Kagetori stepped forward. His voice, loud and clear, cut through the tense silence.
"Hey, icy ghost!"
Raidou slowly turned his head toward him, his gaze questioning and cold.
"This chaos," Kagetori pointed a finger at the colony's crimson sky, "it gets in the way of your service, doesn't it? Your master needs a stable world to conquer, not this madhouse. Let's clear out this annoying anthill that set up this toy for the time being." He grinned. "And then... then we'll continue our old conversation."
Akira, Kaede, Ryūnosuke, and Shiori froze in shock. To propose an alliance to a sworn enemy, the embodiment of evil they had fought just days ago...
Raidou looked at Kagetori for long seconds. His icy eyes held their own battle—between duty, pride, and pragmatism. Finally, he slowly, almost imperceptibly, nodded. Just once.
This wasn't friendship. This wasn't trust. This was a temporary, shaky alliance, bound by a common threat and the understanding that their personal war had lost all meaning while a third party was watching and using them. The Era of Shattered Epochs had just acquired its strangest and most dangerous team.