Rain sliced through the Tokyo night, running down neon signs and flooding the narrow back alleys. The city slept — but the underworld was wide awake.
Atop a hidden warehouse in Shinagawa, Nyra watched from above, overlooking a fortified compound lit by spotlights and crawling with armed guards. The cold wind tugged at her silver coat, her blue eyes reflecting the distant glow of red panels.
"Clan Yūrei… Yakuza hideout and home to rogue Kitsunes."
Her grip tightened around Kaburami.
"This is where the debt is paid in blood."
She leaped from the rooftop, landing without a sound.
Seconds later, the first guards were already down.
The swish of blades cut through the thunder's growl.
Inside the warehouse, chaos erupted.
Nyra moved like a storm — precise, ruthless — dodging bullets, striking with the cold focus of a hunter fueled by rage.
Kitsunes with blazing tails emerged from the shadows, summoning illusions and fire — but none stood a chance.
Bodies hit the floor.
Air reeked of smoke and blood.
Nyra pushed through the main doors and stepped into the clan's inner hall — its heart.
There, seated on a throne of bones and gold, awaited Uryu, the nine-tailed Kitsune.
His calm stare burned with ancient hatred.
"So you're the apprentice of that cursed hunter," he said, voice echoing like muted thunder.
"Eijiro slaughtered half my people. Tonight, the cycle ends."
Nyra pointed her blade at him.
"My master died because of a coward like you. Now you'll pay."
Uryu smiled, his tails flickering with scorching power.
"Coward? Girl… I am an ancient god."
"Do I look scared to you?" she shot back with scornful calm.
"I don't care if you're a god… a monster… whatever. Tonight, you fall."
The tails expanded — fire roared.
Nyra vaulted through the inferno, blades cutting the flames apart.
Steel clashed — sparks, growls, thunder.
A brutal strike tore her shoulder, sending her crashing into a wall.
She spat blood — but her gaze never wavered.
"You… have no idea what I carry inside me."
Uryu raised his claws.
"Then show me."
So she did.
A primal scream ripped through the hall.
Dark blue energy exploded from Nyra's body, warping the ground and making the lights flicker violently.
Her eyes glowed brighter, fangs extended, black veins spreading across her arms —
The awakening of Monster Requiem.
Uryu's smirk vanished.
"What… are you?!"
"This is what happens when the monster wins."
She vanished in a flash of black light — the strike was clean, absolute.
Uryu barely twitched before Kaburami pierced through his chest.
His body dissolved into ashes, and nine tails crumbled like smoke to the floor.
Silence.
Nyra stood still, breathing hard, demon energy radiating from her skin.
Around her — nothing but ruins.
No Kitsune remained alive.
She wiped her blade clean, her eyes slowly softening back to normal.
"Rest in peace, sensei," she whispered.
"I kept my promise."
But before she could leave, a deep voice echoed behind her.
"Impressive. The descendant of the Firstbloods."
Nyra turned.
A tall man in black robes and a wide-brimmed hat watched her calmly, an enigmatic smile on his lips.
amber eyes glowing faintly.
"Who are you?" she asked, blade ready.
He raised his hands in peace.
"Call me Cletus.
Just… a scholar of ancient things. And let's say… once upon a time, I knew someone from your family."
Nyra narrowed her eyes.
"What do you mean by that?"
Cletus stepped closer, footsteps echoing through the ruined hall.
"That the Kramer bloodline is special.
That it traces back to the abyss itself."
He stopped inches away, his smile almost reverent.
"And that you can become something far greater than you imagine."
"And why should I trust you?" she snapped.
Cletus tilted his head.
"Because… I can give you what you seek.
Power.
Knowledge.
The truth about what you really are."
Nyra's blade glinted red — she hesitated, eyes locked on the mysterious man.
Then she replied:
"Talk. I'm listening."