The purple mist embraced me like a lover.
Warm. Soft. Carrying the scent of ozone and something floral - perfume I recognized from countless moments of standing too close to Akeno during training.
"You're hurt."
Her voice came from everywhere. Nowhere. The mist itself seemed to speak.
"Let me help you."
I turned, searching for her form in the endless purple. The wounds from Koneko's integration still ached - bruises and cuts that my mental projection carried like badges.
"Where are you?"
Laughter. Musical. Dangerous.
"Everywhere, Ryder-kun. I am the mist. I am the comfort. I am exactly what you need."
Something brushed my shoulder. Gentle. Fingers?
I spun. Nothing.
"Relax." The word was a caress. "You've been fighting for so long. Let me tend to your wounds."
The mist parted.
She stood before me - Akeno, or the Echo of her. Shrine maiden robes, pristine white and red. Black hair cascading down her back. But behind her, visible through the translucent fabric, wings spread wide.
Not devil wings.
Fallen angel wings.
Her hybrid nature, made manifest.
"Sit," she said. Her smile was warm. Inviting. "I'll take care of you."
Every instinct screamed trap.
But the mist pressed against my back, guiding me forward. My legs buckled, and I found myself sitting on... something. A cushion? A cloud? The mist itself, solidified into comfort.
Akeno knelt before me. Her hands glowed with soft light - healing magic, the kind Asia used.
"Such terrible wounds." She reached for my arm. "Let me - "
Her fingers touched my skin.
Pain.
Not the dull ache of bruises. Sharp, electric agony that raced up my arm and exploded behind my eyes.
I jerked back. "What - "
"Shh." Akeno's smile never wavered. "Healing requires pain, Ryder-kun. Surely you know this."
Her hands glowed brighter. She reached for my chest - where Koneko's first punch had cracked ribs.
"Wait - "
Contact.
Lightning ripped through my nervous system. I screamed, collapsing backward into the mist.
"There," Akeno purred. "Doesn't that feel better?"
I gasped, twitching. The pain faded... and so did the ache in my ribs.
She'd healed me. But the method -
"You understand now." She crawled toward me, movements fluid and predatory. "Pain and pleasure. They're not opposites. They're..."
Her face hovered inches from mine.
"...dance partners."
"What do you want from me?"
Akeno tilted her head. Her smile sharpened.
"The truth."
She sat back on her heels, hands folded primly in her lap. The perfect image of a shrine maiden - if shrine maidens had wings of darkness and eyes that crackled with barely contained lightning.
"You've been lying to yourself, Ryder-kun. Through every integration. Through every fight."
"I haven't - "
"You have." She raised one hand. Lightning arced between her fingers. "You tell yourself such pretty stories. 'I fight to protect.' 'I do what's necessary.' 'I'm not like them.'"
The mist pressed closer. Warmer.
"But we both know the truth."
I pushed myself upright. "What truth?"
Akeno's smile became something else. Something knowing.
"You enjoyed it."
"Enjoyed what?"
"All of it." She rose, circling me like a shark. "Dohnaseek's neck snapping in your hands. The look on his face when he realized you'd beaten him."
Flash.
The memory surfaced - Dohnaseek's eyes going wide. The sound of vertebrae separating. The satisfaction of ending a threat.
"Riser," Akeno continued. "Burning him with his own flames. Watching him regenerate just so you could hurt him again."
Flash.
Phoenix fire. Riser's screams. The moment where I could have stopped - should have stopped - but didn't.
"You enjoyed watching him suffer. You enjoyed being the one dealing the pain instead of receiving it."
"I fight to protect." The words came out defensive. Weak.
Akeno laughed.
"Liar."
"You enjoyed killing Riser." She stopped circling. Faced me directly. "You enjoyed the snap of Dohnaseek's neck."
Lightning crackled around her form. The mist darkened, pressing against me like a physical weight.
"You tell yourself it was necessity. Survival. Protection." Her eyes gleamed. "But deep down, in that place you don't let anyone see..."
She leaned close. Her breath was warm against my cheek.
"You liked it."
"No."
"Yes." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I can feel it, Ryder-kun. The dark corner of your soul where you keep the truth. The part that smiled when Riser screamed. The part that wanted to keep hurting him even after he stopped fighting."
"That wasn't me. That was Dohnaseek's Echo - "
"No." Akeno's hand pressed against my chest. Over my heart. "The Echo pushed. But you chose not to stop it."
The memory replayed.
Riser, beaten. Broken. Still regenerating, still suffering.
The Echo's voice in my head - Finish him. Make him pay. Make him UNDERSTAND.
And me.
Standing there. Feeling the satisfaction. The dark joy of victory.
I could have stopped.
The thought was a blade in my gut.
I could have ended it cleanly. But I wanted him to suffer.
Akeno watched my face. Her smile softened into something almost gentle.
"There it is." She touched my cheek. "The truth."
"I'm not..." My voice cracked. "I'm not a monster."
"Of course you are." She said it without judgment. Without condemnation. "We all are, in our own way. The question isn't whether you have darkness. It's whether you own it."
"Own it?"
Akeno stepped back. Her wings spread wide, blocking out the purple mist.
"I am Akeno Himejima. Daughter of a human woman and a fallen angel. I carry both natures - the priestess and the predator. The healer and the torturer."
Lightning wrapped around her arms.
"For years, I hated my fallen half. Tried to suppress it. Pretend it didn't exist." She smiled, and there was old pain in it. "Do you know what that accomplished?"
"What?"
"Nothing. The darkness doesn't go away because you deny it. It festers. Grows. Waits for the moment you're weak enough to consume."
She approached me again. This time, her touch was gentle. No lightning. No pain.
"You have a monster inside you, Ryder Cross. A part that enjoys violence. That savors victory. That would rather cause pain than receive it."
Her hand cupped my face.
"So what are you going to do about it?"
I closed my eyes.
Dohnaseek's death. The satisfaction.
Riser's screams. The dark joy.
Every fight where I could have held back but didn't. Every moment where the Echo pushed and I chose to follow.
"I'm a monster."
"Yes." Akeno's voice was kind. Understanding. "And?"
"And..." The word caught in my throat.
What am I supposed to do with that? Accept it? Embrace it? Become the thing I've been fighting against?
"You're thinking too hard." Akeno pulled back. "The answer is simpler than you're making it."
"What answer?"
She smiled - the real smile, the one I'd seen on the real Akeno's face when she thought no one was watching. Not the sadistic mask. Not the teasing facade.
Something honest.
"The monster is already yours. It always has been. The only question is whether you're its master or its slave."
"I am a monster."
The words came easier the second time.
"But I'm MY monster."
Akeno's eyes lit up. Lightning crackled around her - not aggressive now. Celebratory.
"There it is."
I stood. The mist no longer pressed against me. It flowed around me, welcoming instead of confining.
"I enjoy the fight. The victory. The power." Each admission was a weight lifting. "I have a dark side. A part that likes causing pain to people who deserve it."
I met her gaze.
"But that doesn't control me. I control it. The adrenaline, the satisfaction, the monster inside - they're tools. Parts of me that I can use or set aside."
Akeno's form began to glow.
"And I won't let anyone - not Dohnaseek's Echo, not Riser's ghost, not my own guilt - use them against me."
The Akeno-Echo moved.
Not to attack. Not to challenge.
She stepped forward and kissed my forehead.
Soft. Warm. A benediction.
"Good boy."
The words carried no mockery. No teasing.
Just approval.
```
No blue box. Just a feeling.
The darkness. The pleasure in pain. It's mine now.
But I won't let it rule me.
I'll use it when I need to, and cage it when I don't.
[AKENO ECHO: INTEGRATED]
The Akeno-Echo dissolved.
Not into light or silence or static.
Into warmth. A gentle heat that spread through my chest and settled behind my heart.
The fourth integration.
The purple mist began to burn away. Not violently - more like morning fog evaporating in sunlight. The warmth became crimson. The air became heavy.
I blinked.
I stood in a throne room.
Ancient. Ruined. Columns of cracked marble rose toward a ceiling lost in shadow. Crimson light spilled from somewhere - everywhere - tinting the dust and decay the color of old blood.
And at the far end, on a throne made of chess pieces - Kings and Queens and Pawns all welded together - sat a figure I would have recognized anywhere.
Rias.
But not the Rias I knew. Not the warm smile. Not the concerned eyes.
This Rias was cold. Imperial. Wearing the expression of someone who owned everything she surveyed.
Including me.
"Well," she said. Her voice echoed through the ruined hall. "The Pawn finally arrives."
I stared at her. At the throne. At the chess pieces surrounding her like trophies.
Not because I feared her power.
But because I feared disappointing her.