Mard-Geer regarded the newcomer with visible irritation. For the first time that evening, his composure faltered. He exhaled slowly, then snapped his fingers. Black mist unfurled from beneath his feet, coiling upward like living smoke and swallowing his form inch by inch.
"I would have enjoyed continuing this little gathering," he said calmly, voice echoing through the ballroom's fractured walls. "But an unexpected variable has entered my equation."
The mist thickened.
"Pray we never cross paths again. Should we do so… I will be prepared. That much, I promise."
His smile lingered even as his body dissolved.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
Akatsuki reacted instantly, a dagger flashing from his hand. It cut cleanly through the space Mard-Geer had occupied—but struck only dispersing shadow. The mist collapsed inward and vanished without residue.
Silence settled over the ruined ballroom.
The scarred man clicked his tongue softly.
"Using that name as a disguise… Mard-Geer. How embarrassingly theatrical."
He adjusted the gold chain at his waist before turning his cold gray gaze toward Dazai and Akatsuki.
"Now then. You two."
Dazai remained motionless, standing upright with his eyes half-lidded, as if the battle still played somewhere behind them. Akatsuki stepped forward instead, positioning himself slightly in front of his friend.
"Ehh? What did we do?" he asked lightly. "And more importantly—who exactly are you? Mysterious stranger appearing at the climax like some overused novel trope."
His tone was casual. His posture was not.
Beneath the tailored sleeve of his suit, his fingers tightened, ready.
The man studied them briefly before setting down the sack he carried. From within it, he retrieved a small gemstone—a pink ruby that caught the candlelight and fractured it into soft, unnatural hues.
He tossed it forward.
Akatsuki caught it midair.
"Since you saved me the inconvenience of dealing with that imitation," the man said flatly, "consider that a token. A delivery for Lust."
His expression did not change.
"My name is Shinigami. I would indulge in further pleasantries, but I have other trivial matters demanding my attention."
He lifted the sack again and walked toward the shattered balcony doors. The night wind moved through his dark hair as he stepped onto the railing with effortless balance.
Before departing, he glanced back over his shoulder.
"Oh. One more thing."
His eyes shifted briefly toward Dazai.
"Tell your companion to exercise caution with that power. I would rather not endure his displeasure this early."
Without elaboration, he stepped backward and vanished into the night. No sound of landing followed.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Akatsuki exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders.
"Why does everything collapse specifically around me?" he muttered.
Dazai swayed.
Akatsuki turned just in time to catch him as his knees gave out. With a resigned sigh, he delivered a light chop to the back of Dazai's neck to fully knock him unconscious before slinging his arm over his shoulder.
"Fantastic. Brooding and dramatic, but zero stamina management."
The ballroom creaked around them—burned ceiling, shattered marble, blood darkening the once-polished floor.
"Better report back to mother dearest," Akatsuki continued under his breath. "All matters resolved. More or less."
As he began walking, something near the rubble caught the light.
A faint glimmer.
He paused.
Carefully shifting Dazai's weight, he crouched and brushed aside broken stone. Beneath it lay a thin metallic fragment—etched with markings too deliberate to be accidental.
Akatsuki's lips curved faintly.
"Well now," he murmured. "What have we here?"
The night outside answered only with silence.