Zayne could now fully confirm his hypothesis.
Ever since he transmigrated into this world, he had constantly wondered to what extent the merging of two universes would alter their original future. Would events spiral out of control? Would history be rewritten entirely? Would characters deviate so far from their canon paths that nothing remained recognizable?
Now he understood.
It wasn't as complicated as he had once feared.
Both universes still retained their original trajectories. The grand flow of fate, the major events, the inevitable outcomes—they remained intact. However, they could interfere in minor details. Small deviations. Subtle shifts. Pieces that didn't overturn destiny, but slightly nudged it.
The predetermined outcome still existed.
All he had to do was place the puzzle pieces correctly.
Once every fragment was in its rightful place, the full picture would reveal itself naturally.
"Pheew~… some of my worries have eased somewhat," Zayne thought to himself as he rubbed his chin, his gaze distant and contemplative.
Tommy, standing beside him, was also lost in his own silent thoughts. The panic that had briefly surfaced earlier had vanished completely. In its place was a terrifying calmness—the kind forged through years of battle, loss, and hard-earned wisdom.
Sensei Watanabe watched them both quietly.
Especially Zayne.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't decipher anything from the young Ranger. His posture was relaxed, his tone measured, his presence controlled—like a calm ocean hiding unfathomable depths beneath its surface.
"Sigh~… let them do what they must. This old man is tired," Kanoi muttered inwardly as the sorrow on his face slowly faded, replaced by weary calm.
He knew he had no choice.
Judgment would come, one way or another. Whether it was mercy or punishment, he would accept it. After all… in this story, he was the villain.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then Zayne finally spoke.
"I understand and sympathize with your loss, Sensei," Zayne said evenly. "I won't bear unnecessary grudges against you. I'm a Ranger, after all. And we've already obtained what we needed from you. There's no reason to cling to past events."
Kanoi felt his breath loosen.
Relief washed over him like a gentle tide. Though he appeared calm on the outside, his aged palms were damp with cold sweat. He hadn't realized just how tense he'd been until that moment.
He didn't want to die yet.
Not when his wife was still waiting to be resurrected.
Tommy nodded in agreement after hearing Zayne's words. As a Ranger, one needed to know when to forgive—and when not to. Sensei Watanabe didn't deserve to be erased like most of their enemies. He had been manipulated, his mind slowly corroded over time.
If anyone deserved punishment, it was Mephisto.
"Thank you… for your leniency toward this old man," Sensei said, bowing slightly. "If you ever require my assistance, I will help without hesitation—even if it means walking through fire and ash."
The moment those words fell, Zayne's vision flickered.
A familiar interface appeared before him.
[Mission Complete]
[Rewards Have Been Distributed]
Zayne's lips curled into a smile.
Double happiness.
Not only had he gained the promise of a powerhouse ally, but the Grid's mission had been completed successfully.
Could this day get any better?
Zayne turned back to Sensei with a relaxed smile. "There's no need for such heavy promises. I'll accept your intentions. When I need help, I'll reach out."
Sensei stared at him, momentarily stunned.
Earlier, this same young man had been stern, ruthless, and overwhelmingly dominant in battle. Now, he smiled calmly, as though nothing of consequence had occurred.
"Sigh~… the duality of a man, indeed," Kanoi muttered inwardly.
With a wave of his hand, a small brown scroll appeared, floating gently in midair. Sensei pushed it toward Zayne.
"This is my private communication scroll," he explained. "It will allow you to reach me more quickly should you ever require my aid."
Zayne accepted the scroll and immediately scanned it with his Morpher. Detecting no abnormalities, he stored it within the Grid space and nodded in thanks.
When he returned to the base, he would analyze the method used to create it. While he already possessed superior communication technology, learning alternative systems was never a bad thing. Inspiration often came from unexpected sources.
"We'll take our leave now and no longer disturb your humble abode, Sensei," Zayne said politely.
Sensei Watanabe's mouth twitched.
Disturb?
They had done far more than disturb it—they had practically overturned half of his secret realm.
Still, he swallowed his complaints and simply nodded. "Thank you for visiting, Rangers. Next time you come… I hope it will be under better circumstances."
Zayne and Tommy nodded in response.
With a flash of light, both Rangers vanished.
Silence returned to the Ninja Academy.
Sensei exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping as the weight of everything finally settled in. The calm on his face slowly dissolved into sadness and gloom.
He looked up at the sky above the academy and murmured softly, "I failed again. Will my obsession ever succeed?"
His thoughts churned violently, like a brewing volcano threatening to erupt.
Moments later, his figure faded away—leaving behind nothing but silence in the place where they had fought.
--- ✦ ---
The moment Gwen and Kira stepped back into the ballroom they had passed through earlier, something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
The air was thick—oppressive, heavy with an iron stench that assaulted their senses almost instantly. Gwen's steps slowed unconsciously; the unconscious MJ still slumped over her shoulders, limp and wrapped tightly in webbing. Kira, walking a step behind her, froze mid-stride.
Her breath caught.
"…What the hell…" Kira muttered under her breath.
The ballroom had transformed into a slaughterhouse.
Bodies littered the floor in grotesque disarray. Vampires—dozens of them—were strewn across shattered marble tiles and overturned banquet tables. Some had been sliced cleanly in half, their torsos separated with brutal precision. Others lay headless, expressions of frozen terror still etched into their pale faces. Several were impaled through the neck or chest, their bodies pinned to pillars or walls as if nailed there deliberately.
Blood coated everything.
It ran in thick pools across the floor, smeared up walls, dripping from broken chandeliers above. The once grand hall, meant for elegance and revelry, now reeked of death.
Kira felt her stomach churn violently.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, swallowing hard as the metallic stench of blood invaded her nose. "This is… this is insane…" she whispered, her voice shaking despite herself.
"They're all dead," Kira continued
They were heroes.
But they were still young.
They had fought monsters, sure. They had faced danger, destruction, even death in flashes and fragments—but nothing like this. This wasn't a battle. It was an execution. A freaking slaughterhouse.
Gwen's jaw tightened as she scanned the room, her spider sense prickling faintly beneath her skin—it wasn't alerting for danger. It was also unconsciously activated due to her leaking emotions
"…Who did this?" Gwen murmured quietly.
Her mind raced.
Necrolai?
No. Why would Necrolai kill her subordinates?
This was a purge.
Kira forced herself to keep walking, boots crunching softly against broken glass and bone fragments. Her eyes under her helmet darted across the carnage, her brain trying—and failing—to piece together a reason.
"Were they fighting each other?" Kira asked, though even she didn't believe it.
"No," Gwen replied immediately. "Look at the wounds. Same angles. Same force. Whoever did this… was alone."
That answer sent a chill down Kira's spine.
They advanced slowly, every step echoing unnaturally loud in the vast hall. MJ shifted slightly on Gwen's back, still unconscious, her pale face visible beneath the webbing. Gwen adjusted her grip subconsciously, protective instincts flaring.
Then—
Her spider sense screamed.
"Down!" Gwen shouted instinctively as she twisted sharply to the side.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet tore through the space where Gwen's head—and MJ's neck—had been a split second earlier, slamming into a distant pillar with a sharp crack.
Gwen hadn't even looked.
She simply moved.
Kira reacted instantly.
"Who?!" she snapped, her ptera-grip materializing in her hand with a sharp metallic hiss as she spun toward the direction the shot had come from.
Silence followed.
Then slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the shadows between the pillars.
A tall figure emerged.
He was dark-skinned, dressed entirely in black tactical clothing that blended seamlessly with the blood-stained darkness of the room. A high buzzcut framed his sharp features, sunglasses hiding his eyes despite the low light. His posture was relaxed—but not careless. It was the stance of someone who had already decided how a fight would end.
And the overwhelming smell of blood followed him like a cloak.
Before either Gwen or Kira could say another word, the man spoke.
"You shouldn't be carrying a bloodsucker, kid," he said calmly. His voice was deep, rough, and utterly serious. "They're deadly."
Gwen bristled immediately.
She straightened, shifting MJ higher on her shoulders. "It's none of your business," she shot back. "You don't get to decide who we keep and who we don't."
The man tilted his head slightly, amused.
"You sure you wanna do that, kid?" he replied, a faint chuckle escaping him.
Kira stepped forward half a pace, ptera-grip tightening in her hand.
"Very sure, old man," she said coolly. "And judging by the fact that you're the only one standing here… and the overwhelming smell of blood coming off you—I'm guessing you're responsible for this massacre."
The man's lips curved into a smile.
A dangerous one.
"Smart kid," he said without hesitation. "Yeah. I killed them."
Gwen's eyes narrowed.
She didn't sense malice directed at them—not yet—but this was still someone who had wiped out an entire nest of vampires alone. Her guard rose instantly.
"…Why?" Gwen asked carefully.
The man didn't answer right away.
He simply adjusted his stance, staring directly at Gwen, making her flinch a little.
Finally, Gwen spoke again, her tone sharp. "Who are you, anyway?"
The man's expression hardened.
There wasn't a trace of amusement on his face anymore. Just ruthlessness.
"I'm Blade," he said flatly.
A pause.
Then—
"A Vampire Hunter."
--- ✦ ---
Sorry for the late update, guys. I had a fever, but it's better now. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
Power Stones, pls guys.