The world slowly regained its breath.
Dust settled over the ruined street, and the shimmering ripples of the collapsed vortex dissolved into fading lines of gold. Akira remained still, chest rising and falling faintly as the last echo of the battle slipped into silence. Rina leaned against a cracked lamp post, trembling but conscious, eyes darting between the two men who stood like guardians beside her.
And then… him.
Michael — no, Ashurael.
He stood with the calmness of a man who belonged nowhere but was welcome everywhere. His aura did not roar; it flowed, like light passing through stained glass.
Up close, his appearance was too perfect to be human.
His hair was a long sweep of silver-gold, strands falling over sharp cheekbones and a jaw sculpted with immortal precision. Under the fractured sunlight, his hair seemed to carry the shimmer of dawn itself. His eyes were a piercing crystalline blue, bright yet deep, layered with memory — the kind of eyes that could see gods rise and fall.
Ashurael's face was symmetrical, almost regal, with a slight softness around his lips that countered the fierce intensity in his gaze. He stood tall, perhaps 190 cm, built with lean strength — not bulky, but sculpted like a blade made of living light. His coat was obsidian black, fitted at the shoulders, layered with cloth that shimmered faintly with runes only ancient warriors would recognize. Beneath it, a dark vest and white shirt fit him perfectly, sleeves rolled just slightly, revealing faint gold patterns etched across his forearms like divine scars.
Even his boots — polished, steel-edged — carried a faint glow in the seams.
It wasn't fashion.
It was power that refused to be hidden.
Rina couldn't even breathe when his gaze shifted toward her.
Not fear.
Something like awe.
Akira glanced between him and Ryozen. "You two know each other?"
Ryozen's smirk was subtle. "Kid… we fought side by side before you were even born."
Ashurael let out a soft chuckle. "Many centuries before."
Rina, swallowing her nervousness, gathered her courage and asked, "Um… what's your real name? Not the one you use here."
He turned gently toward her, lowering his head slightly.
"Ashurael," he said with calm pride. "That was my name in the old era."
The name resonated like an ancient bell.
Rina felt a faint warmth on her cheeks, as if some divine force acknowledged her presence.
Akira felt the intensity of it ripple through his bones.
But soon, that warmth faded.
Because the world trembled again.
A cold pulse rippled across the sky — a calling. A warning. A scream.
Ashurael looked up sharply. "Ren moved."
Ryozen's jaw tightened. "To the Shadow Summit Hall."
"The remaining Shadows will be waiting," Ashurael said quietly.
Akira felt Yamitsurugi pulse against his chest, responding like a heartbeat. His voice lowered. "…He's preparing."
"No," Ryozen corrected.
"He's transforming."
The scene dissolved into shadows.
Far away, deep beneath a world humans could never reach, a colossal circular chamber breathed with ancient darkness. The Shadow Summit Hall.
Black stone pillars curved upward like the ribs of a giant beast. Torches of inverted flames — black fire with white centers — lined the edges, flickering silently without heat.
And at the center…
Ren knelt.
His body was shredded, bleeding fragments of shadow, breathing heavily — not from weakness, but from overpowering rage.
Around him, the remaining nine Shadows watched silently.
Their monstrous silhouettes shifted with each pulse of Ren's aura.
One spoke, voice like shifting metal.
"It is time, brother. We must break the seals."
Ren let out a harsh, manic laugh, gripping his chest. "Break…? I'll do more than break." His eyes glowed crimson. "I'll rip Akira's body apart until nothing remains."
A pang of pain tore through his body, forcing him to choke — but he embraced it, laughing through it.
His skin cracked with glowing fissures of black and red.
From the side, a massive figure stepped forward — the Fourth Shadow.
A hulking being of twisted obsidian, horns curling from its skull, eyes burning like molten metal. It carried a small pot made of cracked bone, sealed with old runes and dripping with dark condensation.
"Master commanded me to give you this," the Fourth Shadow said, voice echoing.
Ren's eyes narrowed with hunger.
He snatched the pot.
With a single motion, he shattered it.
A storm of shadows burst outward, swirling into his body like screaming souls being devoured. Ren arched his back, letting out a roar so deep it cracked the pillars around him.
His aura exploded.
A single horn tore out from the right side of his forehead — jagged, black with glowing veins, dripping with shadow essence. His hair lengthened into wild, dark strands. His eyes twisted into pure death. His jaw sharpened.
He was no longer Ren.
He was Oblivion's heir.
He reached behind him — grabbing his weapon.
A massive, pitch-black scythe with a crescent blade that dripped liquid darkness.
Its handle was twisted bone.
Its edge glowed red like it had tasted blood for centuries.
He raised it to his shoulder and grinned with feral hunger.
"Let's go," he hissed.
"Let's end their entire world."
The Shadows around him bowed.
The story shifted back.
Akira's house was small, warm, and dimly lit — the opposite of the shadow realms. Rina sat on the couch, still trembling slightly, while Akira paced with Yamitsurugi's pendant gleaming faintly against his chest.
Ryozen leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Ashurael sat calmly at the table, hands folded, expression unreadable.
Akira looked at both of them. "So there are nine remaining Shadows?"
"Eight," Ryozen corrected. "Two are gone now."
Ryozen glanced at Ashurael. "Varek… didn't survive you."
Ashurael shrugged softly. "He died loudly."
Rina shivered.
Akira swallowed. "So… what happens if they move together?"
Ryozen's voice dropped. "If all of them march at once… even our combined power won't be enough."
The room fell silent.
Akira clenched his teeth. "Then we fight harder."
Ashurael chuckled. "That's your answer to everything."
"I'm not running," Akira replied sharply. "Not again."
Ryozen watched him — proud, but worried.
Rina looked at her hands. "Will… they really come?"
"Yes," Ashurael answered gently. "But not tonight."
Akira turned. "How do you know?"
Ashurael closed his eyes.
The air grew warm.
Like dawn rising behind curtains.
"They're harvesting power," he said softly. "Breaking seals takes time. Even Ren, with his new strength, needs hours to stabilize the fragments inside him."
Ryozen nodded. "Good. That gives us time."
Ashurael opened his eyes slowly.
"They won't attack immediately. Trust me."
Akira exhaled in relief.
Rina leaned back, muscles relaxing. "So… tonight we're safe."
Ashurael nodded. "Tonight."
The words felt like a blanket over the room.
But far away…
in the shadows…
Ren lifted his scythe and whispered:
"Tomorrow… your dawn dies."