The silence within Shinji's sealed mind was absolute. Not the quiet of an empty room, but the profound, suffocating absence of all sensation. He drifted in a formless void, a consciousness untethered from sight, sound, touch, smell, or taste. He simply was, adrift in an ocean of nothingness.
Then, sensation returned – but only one. Sight.
He found himself observing, a disembodied awareness within a colossal, obsidian cave. Its walls stretched into impossible distances, smooth and featureless, absorbing what little light existed. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't blink, couldn't scream. He was a prisoner behind his own eyes.
His gaze was drawn upwards. The cavern's "sky" wasn't rock, but a swirling, impossible tapestry. Twelve distinct patterns pulsed with inner light, each a complex, shifting mandala of colors and geometries that defied comprehension – one blazed with fractal gold, another writhed with liquid emerald fractals, a third pulsed with deep cerulean spirals. They weren't just patterns; they felt like fundamental laws made visible.
Interspersed among them, dominating the lower expanse, were seven colossal spheres of pure, light-devouring Darkness. Not black, but the negation of existence itself, voids that seemed to warp the patterns around them, pulling at their light like black holes devouring stars.
Horizonward, twelve points of intense, radiant light shone like captured supernovas. Each burned with a unique hue and intensity – blinding white, searing violet, calming turquoise, raging crimson. They felt... alive. Potent. Ancient.
His fixed perspective shifted slightly, drawn downwards. Two figures stood on a distant ledge, silhouetted against the glow of the distant lights. Their forms were indistinct, blurred as if seen through warped glass, but their movements were animated. One gestured emphatically, the other stood with arms crossed. They were clearly engaged in a heated discussion, mouths moving rapidly.
They're talking! Shinji's mind screamed, desperate for sound, for meaning. But the absolute silence pressed in, a physical weight. He saw lips form words, saw expressions shift – frustration, perhaps urgency, maybe even fear – but no sound reached him. The frustration was maddening, a scream trapped in a soundproof box. He was an audience to a silent play of cosmic significance, utterly denied the script.
Then, agony. It erupted without warning, a searing, bone-deep ache that tore through his non-existent body. It wasn't localized; it was everywhere, a violation of his very essence. Terror, cold and absolute, washed over him. *Why? What's happening?* But there were no answers, only the silent, horrifying spectacle and the excruciating pain.
His vision flickered. The obsidian cave walls seemed to ripple. Then, his sight began to crumble. Like fracturing glass, his field of vision splintered, dark cracks spreading across the image of the cave, the patterns, the lights, the arguing figures. The cracks deepened, widened, swallowing the light. The ache intensified, becoming a white-hot scream within his silent prison. His sight shattered completely, plunging him into utter, absolute blackness.
He was back in the formless void. The ache remained, a phantom torment. But then... a sound. Faint at first, then growing, echoing in the sensory vacuum.
"Transcend..."
A single word, spoken in a voice that was neither male nor female, ancient nor young, but resonant with impossible depth. It echoed, not through ears, but directly within the core of his fractured consciousness.
"Transcend..."
Again. And again. A relentless, haunting mantra in the abyss.
"Transcend..."
Chamber Six:
The gilded opulence of Raimei's theater felt like a grotesque mockery. Shirou moved with the desperate grace of a cornered animal, Emerald spitting emerald laser after emerald laser. Each beam was a streak of focused annihilation, aimed with the precision that earned him "The Man Who Never Misses."
Raimei flowed. Not dodging, but existing between the shots, a violet ghost weaving through the lethal light show. A negligent backhand caught Shirou mid-lunge. CRUNCH. The impact wasn't just physical; it felt like spacetime itself compressed around him, driving the air from his lungs and slamming him into the plush crimson carpet. He tried to push up, muscles screaming, but an invisible, crushing force pinned him flat. Immobilized.
Miryoku, her face pale but resolute, unleashed a barrage of resonant energy shockwaves – turquoise and amethyst waves of pure harmonic force. They screamed towards Raimei... and shrank. Like video played in reverse, they diminished in size and intensity, dwindling to harmless motes of light that fizzled out inches before touching him.
"Kagaya! NOW!" Shirou choked out, fighting the immobilizing pressure.
Kagaya, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot with fury and effort, had transformed. Emerald energy radiated from him like a corona, muscles swelling to inhuman proportions – Beast Mode. He roared, a sound that shook the gilded balconies, and charged. The distance vanished in a blur of emerald fury, his fist, a wrecking ball of condensed power, aimed to obliterate Raimei's smirking face.
It stopped. Not blocked. Not deflected. It simply... halted in mid-air, a hair's breadth from Raimei's nose, as if hitting an immovable wall of pure negation. Then, an unseen force, vast and irresistible, slammed into Kagaya. KRA-THOOM! He hurtled backwards like a discarded doll, crashing through rows of phantom seats, blood spraying from his mouth and nose, his Beast Mode flickering out.
Raimei chuckled, adjusting his cuff. "To make this marginally entertaining," he declared, his voice dripping with condescension, "land a single punch on me. Just one. I might even acknowledge your pathetic existence. But you won't. You can't."
"Seems interesting," a voice rasped from behind Raimei.
The Monarch spun, genuine surprise flickering across his features for a split second.
Shirou stood there, blood trickling from his lips, Emerald braced against his shoulder, barrel pressed almost against the back of Raimei's skull. The immobilizing force was gone, shattered by sheer, bleeding determination. He pulled the trigger.
PING!
The emerald point-blank shot... stopped. A shimmering violet field, inches thick, materialized around Raimei's head. The bullet strained against it, emerald light flaring, then dissolved into harmless sparks. Simultaneously, a line of searing pain erupted across Shirou's abdomen. No blade was seen, but his tactical vest split open, and a deep, grievous wound spilled crimson onto the carpet. He gasped, staggering back, clutching his stomach, the rifle clattering from his nerveless fingers.
Raimei turned slowly, his amusement replaced by cold irritation. "You were... irritatingly close. I genuinely didn't expect you to break the localized stasis field. Mortal stubbornness. Annoying."
Shirou collapsed to one knee, blood pooling beneath him, his vision swimming. He spat a mouthful of red onto the gold-trimmed carpet. "I just... got cut... by nothing... immobilized... by nothing..." he gasped, each word a labor. "Kagaya... Miryoku... same thing... What... is... your power?"
Raimei tilted his head, a predator examining wounded prey. "Well, you see..." he began, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "it's complicated—"
He was interrupted. Miryoku, tears of frustration and fury streaking her face, unleashed her most powerful blast yet – a concentrated beam of resonant destruction, white-hot and screaming. It lanced towards Raimei... and shrank, vanishing into a pinpoint of light before it could reach him.
Shirou moved. Pain was a distant echo. Survival was the only imperative. With a guttural roar fueled by agony and defiance, he scooped up Emerald. Not aiming, not targeting. He unleashed hell. The rifle became a continuous, deafening scream. Millions of emerald bullets erupted in a blinding, concentrated storm within seconds, filling the space between him and Raimei with lethal light.
Raimei didn't dodge. He stood impassive. The bullets streaked towards him... and curved. Like iron filings repelled by a magnet, they veered away, screaming back towards Shirou in a deadly boomerang. Shirou tried to twist, to deflect some with desperate swings of his rifle. A few ricocheted harmlessly away. Dozens punched into his legs, arms, shoulders. THUD! THUD! THUD! He was thrown back, a bloody ruin against the shattered remnants of a balcony.
Raimei blurred. He was suddenly before Shirou. A single, almost casual punch connected with Shirou's jaw. CRACK. It didn't sound like bone breaking; it sounded like reality fracturing. Blood didn't just flow; it fountained from Shirou's mouth, nose, and ears, drenching the carpet in a widening pool of crimson. His eyes rolled back. Consciousness fled, then clawed its way back through sheer, agonized will. He lay sprawled, a broken doll painted red, breathing in ragged, wet gasps.
"Nice," Raimei murmured, genuine, cold appreciation in his voice. "Even with that much blood loss, and injuries that should have stopped three of you... you cling. Admirable futility."
"AAAAAAAH!"
The roar came from the wreckage. Kagaya erupted, in Beast Mode, primal, fueled by rage, guilt, and witnessing Shirou's destruction. His fist was Emerald, brimming with Spiritual Energy – pure, condensed life-force and fury. He moved not with speed, but with the terrifying inevitability of a landslide, appearing behind Raimei, his fist a comet aimed at the Monarch's spine.
KRA-SHUNK!
The impact was sickeningly solid. Raimei's head snapped forward, a spray of dark, viscous blood erupting from his mouth and nose. His body crumpled, hitting the carpet face-first with a heavy thud, unmoving.
Kagaya stood over him, chest heaving, crimson energy flickering around his fist, raw triumph warring with horror on his face. "I DID IT! I FUCKING DID IT!!!" He bellowed, the sound raw and ragged.
Shirou, through blood-filled eyes, saw it. Not triumph, but disaster. His gaze, desperate, flickered past Kagaya to where Miryoku lay, half-buried in debris near where Raimei had been standing. Kagaya's crimson fist hadn't struck Raimei. It had struck Miryoku. Her light was guttering, her body limp, a trickle of luminous blood staining her cheek.
Kagaya followed Shirou's gaze. His triumphant roar died in his throat, replaced by a guttural sound of pure, soul-rending horror. "NO! MIRYOKU! WHAT... WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!!"
Raimei's laughter echoed, cold and clear, from above. He floated effortlessly near the ceiling, pristine, untouched, not a drop of the dark fluid on him. He looked down at Kagaya's devastation with detached amusement. "What indeed, mortal?"
Before Kagaya could fully comprehend the depth of his manipulated horror, an unseen blade of spatial force sliced horizontally through his abdomen. SHINK. A geyser of blood erupted. Kagaya looked down, disbelief on his face, as his stomach was cut open. He collapsed sideways, a fountain of crimson soaking the ruined finery, consciousness fading fast.
Shirou tried to scream a warning, but only a bloody bubble burst on his lips. He could only watch, helpless, as Raimei raised a hand.
The theater dissolved. Not faded. Shattered. The gilded walls, the plush carpet, the shattered stage – everything fragmented into shards of distorted color. Then, those shards began to move. Not fall. Streak. The entire chamber became a maelstrom of infinite-speed void. Shirou and Kagaya (somehow still clinging to fractured consciousness despite his guts almost spilling out) weren't just battered; they were flayed. Air moving at relativistic speeds became a million monomolecular blades. Blood erupted from every pore, every inch of exposed skin on Shirou. Kagaya's grievous wounds became geysers. It wasn't just physical torture; it was an assault on their very minds, the infinite velocity stretching perception into screaming agony.
Shirou, operating on pure, dying instinct, raised Emerald with trembling, bloody hands. He fired a desperate, wide-beam Emerald Laser into the streaking chaos. The beam, caught in the impossible currents, curved violently back and struck him full in the chest. FWOOM! He was hurled backwards, armor vaporized, flesh seared, his vision tunneling into blackness. He couldn't endure more.
Kagaya roared. Or tried to. It came out as a bloody gurgle. Through the haze of pain and the literal dissolution of his body, he saw Raimei, a still point in the infinite storm. He pushed. Not with his legs – they were useless. He pushed with his will, dragging his mangled body, crawling through a river of his own blood and the streaking void, inch by agonizing inch towards the floating Monarch. Spiritual Energy, weak but defiant, flickered around his stumps.
Raimei watched, a bored expression replacing the amusement. "Even if that pathetic crawl brings your stumps against my boot," his voice cut through the maelstrom, "it will mean nothing. Less than nothing."
Kagaya kept crawling. Blood slicked the non-existent floor. His eyes, fixed on Raimei, burned with a dying fire.
Raimei sighed. "Tedious." He snapped his fingers.
The infinite speed multiplied by an unknowable factor for a single, horrific fraction of a second. It wasn't an increase; it was a conceptual shift. The void didn't move faster; it became absolute velocity. Shirou, already on the brink, felt his consciousness shatter. Kagaya's crawling form was hit by an invisible tidal wave of force. What remained of his body was scoured, layers of flesh and muscle stripped away in an instant. He slumped, a barely recognizable, bloody ruin, motionless.
The void-storm ceased. The chamber reformed – a ruined, blood-drenched theater once more. Miryoku lay unconscious but breathing shallowly. Shirou was a broken, smoldering heap, unmoving. Kagaya was a nightmare sculpture of blood, silent.
Raimei floated down, landing lightly on the carnage-soaked carpet. He stepped towards Kagaya's ruined form. "How fascinating..." he murmured, genuine curiosity in his tone. "You're still... twitching?"
With impossible, dying strength, Kagaya's remaining arm shot out. His blood-slicked fingers closed weakly around Raimei's ankle. Not an attack. A touch. A final, desperate act of defiance. He looked up, one eye filled with blood, the other burning with fading fury. "Loo-ks... like... I... tou-ched... you..." he gurgled, blood bubbling from his lips. "You... sa-id... it's... imp-oss-ible..."
Raimei's eyes narrowed. Not with pain, but with cold, incandescent fury. The casual amusement vanished. "You," he hissed, the air crackling with violet energy, "have a death wish, mortal?"
Kagaya's grip tightened infinitesimally, fueled by pure, stubborn hatred. "Ju-st..." he choked, each word a gargling effort, "W-ho... T-HE FUCK... ARE YOU...?!"
Raimei didn't answer with words. He flicked his wrist. An invisible blade of pure spatial negation sliced vertically through Kagaya's remaining arm. SHHHHRKT. More blood, a final, wet sigh, and Kagaya's defiant light extinguished. His hand fell limp from Raimei's ankle.
The Monarch stared down at the carnage he'd wrought – the unconscious Resonator, the broken Sniper, the obliterated Guardian. A flicker of something almost like disappointment crossed his features, then vanished, replaced by icy disdain. He raised a hand towards the chamber wall.
The ornate structure didn't crumble; it unraveled. The gilded moldings, the plush carpets, the shattered stage – all dissolved into streams of violet energy that flowed into Raimei's outstretched palm. Within seconds, Chamber Six was gone, leaving only the cold, seamless black stone corridor of the Labyrinth, littered with the broken forms of the intruders.
Raimei turned his back on the devastation, his form already blurring as he prepared to move towards the next convergence point. His final words, spoken not to the fallen, but to the uncaring Labyrinth itself, echoed with chilling finality:
"UnboundDown Monarch, Raimei."
The corridor swallowed his departing form, leaving only the stench of blood and ozone, and the terrifying silence of absolute defeat. The struggle had begun, and the first blows had shattered hope against the anvil of infinite, uncaring possibility.