The light of dawn bled golden over the Demon Slayer HQ.
But today… it wasn't just for humans.
Muzan's Moment
Deep within the research chamber beneath HQ, Shinobu stood beside a table holding a smoking vial — dark, shimmering with threads of infernal red and silver. Muzan observed it quietly, his face unreadable.
Shinobu (smirking): "Drink it. Worst case? You die. But you won't. Sadly."
Muzan (tilting his head): "You think I fear death? This curiosity... is worth the risk."
He took the vial and drank it in one go.
For a heartbeat — silence.
Then, Muzan stepped forward, past the silver curtains, into a shaft of sunlight.
The room held its breath.
The rays touched his face, arms, neck… and nothing happened.
Not a sizzle. Not a burn.
Just… Muzan, standing in daylight.
Muzan (quietly, almost a whisper):"...The sun.""After a thousand years…"
He looked at his hands like they were reborn.
News spread fast.
In the courtyard, the Upper Moons stood in the light for the first time in their cursed lives.
Akaza (grinning wide): "Sunlight! Look at this! I could flex here all day!"(He stretches dramatically while glaring at Sanemi across the field.)"Hey Wind Pillar! Still think demons are cowards in the dark?"
Doma (twirling his fan): "Oh~ this changes everything. Shall I take a stroll in the garden next? Or maybe crash a morning tea party?"
Kokushibo (stoic, serious): "This… is not natural."
Gyokko (slithering out): "I feel... tingly. What if it has side effects? What if my skin peels—"
Hantengu (from behind a pillar): "I-I don't want to die! The sun—it hurts my eyes!!"
Muzan (sharply): "Enough."
He stepped out between them, his shadow long under the sunlight.
Muzan:"We are no longer bound to the night.""This… is evolution. No more hiding. No more weakness."
Later that day, the Slayer stood in the training arena — silent, visor reflecting the burning horizon.
He placed a glowing rune crystal into the ground.
The earth twisted, forming jagged platforms, erupting rocks, and pits. A simulated hellscape formed — a miniature battlefield.
Slayers and Demons gathered around him.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
But the murmurs began:
Tengen: "What the hell is that thing he just did? Are we fighting lava now?"
Sanemi: "Whatever it is, I'm not pairing with that." (He glares at Akaza.)
Akaza: "You think I'm thrilled about this? Pick someone who doesn't cry every time he bleeds."
Mitsuri: "Maybe if we just—tried to understand each other?"
Doma: "Oh, Mitsuri! I'd love to pair with you."
Mitsuri (shuddering): "Over my dead body."
Gyomei: "Enough. This is a test. We must take it seriously. Let strength decide."
Kokushibo: "If it is strength, then I should go with him." (He gestures to Gyomei.)
Giyu: "No. Strength alone won't win this. We need coordination."
Obanai: "Then I'll go with someone who listens. Not a bloodthirsty lunatic."
Akaza: "Then you've narrowed it down to none of us."
Muichiro (calmly): "We should draw lots. Leave emotion out."
Sanemi: "Screw that."
Shinobu (to Tanjiro, whispering): "This is like watching cats fight over a sunny spot."
Eventually, the Slayer raised a hand. The entire crowd fell quiet.
He pointed to Sanemi.
Then Akaza.
Then Gyomei.
Then Kokushibo.
No words.
Just selection.
Sanemi (grumbling): "Fine. Let's get this over with."
Akaza (smirking): "Try not to slow me down."
Gyomei (bowing): "I will give everything."
Kokushibo (nodding silently): "Understood."
The Slayer stepped off the field.
Tanjiro (to Inosuke): "He didn't even say anything."
Inosuke (whispers): "He doesn't need to. He just... chooses death for people."
The Gauntlet Begins
The four chosen warriors stepped into the simulation zone.
The sky above flickered red. Rocks floated. Lava oozed from cracks. Infernal winds screamed.
Sanemi (raising his sword): "Let's go. No backing down."
Akaza: "Don't get in my way, Pillar."
Gyomei (chanting softly): "Stone Breathing… First Form."
Kokushibo (his six eyes glow): "Moon Breathing… Eighth Form."
They dove into the battlefield.
From the shadows — demons began to pour in.
Crawling. Roaring. Burning.
And the Slayer watched from a high tower, visor still, like a god surveying chaos.