"Oh, dear God! Who is that man? Why is he doing this?" "He's a devil! He's covered in blood and he just keeps… he just keeps cutting everyone down!"
Aboard the train, shrill screams of terror echoed through the car as Sanemi Shinazugawa continued his rampage. What should have been a simple journey had turned into a blood-soaked nightmare. No one understood what was happening. One moment, they were passengers, and the next, a man with wild white hair and a Demon Slayer uniform was carving through them like a force of nature.
His skill with a sword was terrifying. His movements were a blur of speed and deadly precision. The few brave guards who tried to intervene were cut down before they could even raise their weapons. The chilling aura of his Nichirin Sword seemed to drain the courage from anyone who looked at it. In moments, the entire car had become a slaughterhouse, the floor slick with blood and littered with dismembered bodies. The thick, metallic stench was suffocating.
"Good, good, good!" A manic, morbid grin stretched across Sanemi's face as he surveyed his work. "I knew these so-called demons were nothing but trash. It seems my skills have gotten even sharper." In his eyes, he saw not the terrified faces of men and women, but the grotesque, twisted forms of demons.
"Time to kill to my heart's content!" With a guttural roar, he lunged forward into the next car.
This horrific scene was not unique. On two other trains, at the very same moment, the Water Hashira, Giyu Tomioka, and the Serpent Hashira, Obanai Iguro, were experiencing the exact same delusion. After waking up in a disoriented haze, their first instinct was the same as Sanemi's: to slaughter every "demon" in sight.
What puzzled them, however, was how weak these demons were. The ghastly monsters they saw before them crumbled with pathetic ease under their blades. A dangerous thought began to form in their minds: perhaps the demons hadn't gotten weaker, but they themselves had become stronger.
"So this is the game Muzan wants to play," the same grim realization settled in the minds of Giyu and Obanai. "A twisted labyrinth of death. The only way out is through."
With renewed resolve, both Hashira continued their grim work. Wherever they went, a storm of blood followed.
Deep within the shifting, impossible architecture of the Infinity Castle, Tsukihiko watched the tragedy unfold. He reclined on his throne, his expression as calm and unmoving as a reef that had weathered the sea for a thousand years.
Before him, the world played out like a private performance. The frantic movements of the Ubuyashiki clan, the determined advance of the Demon Slayer Corps, the desperate struggles of Sanemi and the others, and the actions of his own Twelve Kizuki—he saw it all. Every piece on the board moved according to his will. Even the brilliant demon doctor, Tamayo, diligently working in her hidden laboratory at this very moment, was not outside his sight.
A feeling of profound, almost bored amusement washed over him as he watched the three Hashira fight so fiercely against helpless phantoms. If they only knew. If they could see that they were not slaying evil spirits, but butchering the very humans they had sworn to protect, what would their righteous minds do? How beautifully would they shatter?
He hadn't even bothered with a complex Blood Demon Art or a powerful illusion. It was merely a subtle psychological suggestion, a whisper to the darkest corners of their souls. He had simply found the shadows that already existed within them and amplified them until they consumed the light. Sanemi, Giyu, Obanai—all of them had endured countless moments of darkness and despair throughout their lives. Normally, their sense of justice and duty kept that darkness chained. But with his influence, the chains were broken, and the monsters within were completely unleashed.
The result was this horrifying, tragic theater of cruelty. And the most deliciously ironic part? At this very moment, the remaining Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps were racing to save these three murderers, completely unaware that they were walking straight into the inescapable trap he had prepared just for them.
His gaze shifted to the image of Tamayo. "With her talent, it won't be long before she develops the first stage of the medicine," he mused. In the world of demons, only two possessed such profound medical knowledge: Shinobu Kocho and Lady Tamayo. While the young Insect Hashira was brilliant, Tamayo's centuries of experience made her far more valuable.
Of course, her value was purely in her utility. Tsukihiko held not a single shred of trust for the woman who had escaped his control. Once she completed her work, any medicine she created would undergo rigorous trials on other subjects long before he would ever consider using it himself.
"But speaking of which," a faint, cruel smile touched his lips as he turned his attention away from Tamayo. "The true stars of tonight's show have yet to make their entrance… the so-called Priest Clan."
His smile widened. "Let me see what tricks you have to offer this time."
At that same time, in a remote shrine hidden deep within the ancient, untamed mountains of Japan, a figure stirred. The shrine itself was a relic of a bygone era, its carved beams and painted pillars weathered by centuries of solitude, rarely seen by human eyes.
Inside, a young man dressed in the formal, elegant robes of an Onmyoji slowly rose from a kneeling position.
"So… the moment has finally arrived," he whispered, his voice calm and clear.
As he stood, streams of light pierced through the dense forest canopy, illuminating a handsome and impossibly serene face.
"My clan… the Shinkan… has not intervened in the affairs of the mortal world for hundreds of years," he murmured to himself, his thoughts drifting. "But this time… this Kibutsuji Muzan is an anomaly, a variable that was not foreseen."
"According to the original divination, the Ubuyashiki clan of this generation was fated to be the one to finally end Muzan's reign and close this long era of demons. What could have changed? I must find out."
With his decision made, he took a single step forward, walking slowly out of the ancient shrine.
Buzz.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the very air around him shimmered. The ancient shrine behind him seemed to fade into the forest, vanishing as if it had never existed at all. The tranquil clearing was replaced by an endless, hostile jungle. A fierce wind howled down from the distant mountains, and the temperature dropped instantly. From the shadows, the roars of tigers and other wild beasts erupted, turning the quiet forest into a place of imminent danger.
The young man in the Onmyoji robes paid it no mind. He continued his slow, deliberate walk. As he moved, the sounds of the wind, the rustling leaves, and the roaring beasts all fell silent, completely erased from existence.
In the next moment, his own figure vanished from where he stood, leaving no trace that he had ever been there at all.
"He's come… Someone from the Priest Clan has finally emerged from the mountains."
Almost at the same instant, back at the Ubuyashiki ancestral home, Kagaya's head lifted. A rare, genuine smile touched his scarred face. In a day filled with dread and uncertainty, this was the best news he could have possibly received. It was a glimmer of hope.
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