***In Reality***
It was nearly midnight, the sixth day Renji had lingered in the Land of Shadows.
In the Kokuryūkai's surveillance chamber, the guild was on high alert. Screens flickered, runes hummed, and tension hung so thick it pressed down like iron. Hikari and Takashi flanked Kazuki, their eyes fixed on the shifting data before them.
"I fear…" Kazuki murmured, voice heavy with dread, "that Renji may not return when Shura comes."
The war was no longer rumor. It was inevitable. Shura had claimed Hanzo—the former Kokuryūkai warrior who once guarded one of the sacred seals. Worse, Hanzo knew their covert location. He would not come alone.
Each guild across the states was hidden, cloaked in secrecy. But the Kokuryūkai knew they would be the first to bleed.
A sudden hiss filled the room. The monitors blurred, shadows thickening on the horizon.
"A mist's picking up," the guild's tech specialist said, his voice low, almost reverent.
Takashi leaned forward. "Maybe… maybe we were wrong after all—"
Kazuki's eyes snapped open. His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"They are here."
The mist recoiled, peeling back to reveal a figure at its center. Hanzo. His once-human form twisted, eyes blazing an eerie, venomous green. Behind him surged a legion of demons, their claws glinting, their howls splitting the air.
"Sound the alarm!" Kazuki commanded, his tone sharp with authority. "Arm the Kokuryūkai immediately. What's the head count?"
"Thirty demons, approximately," the tech replied.
"We outnumber them," Takashi said grimly as he reached for his blade.
Kazuki shook his head, gaze never leaving Hanzo. "With a vessel of Shura at their head, numbers mean nothing. Those odds are ashes."
---
Meanwhile…
Renji studied the amulet in his palm. Even dormant, it pulsed with ancient power. The moment his gaze locked on it, fire and shadow surged into him, molten steel pouring through his veins. His muscles seized, his cursed eye roared open, and his vision split in two.
For a terrifying instant, he saw himself—no longer human. Claws instead of hands. Fangs glinting under phantom moonlight. Vast wings of ink and fire tearing through the void.
But through it all, his mind endured. He was anchored. The amulet's chain held him fast.
He slid it onto his arm. Pain and power collided. His breath left in ragged clouds of smoke as the realm around him quaked, shadows convulsing in violent tremors. His knees nearly buckled—but he stood. Still himself. Still Renji.
Kenshi's towering figure emerged through the gloom, calm and immovable.
"There is trouble in the mortal realm," he intoned. "You have accepted the covenant. You are recognized now as a Grandmaster. But hear me well—this amulet will not hold you forever. The day will come when its chain snaps. Then, boy, you must either master all seven currents… or become the very monster you swore to destroy."
Renji's lips curled into a smirk, sharp and hungry. There was darkness in it now—feral, but alive.
"Guess I'd better start training then. Wouldn't want to embarrass myself in front of the apocalypse."
For the first time, Kenshi's ancient gaze softened, pride flickering faintly like a candle in the dark.
"Good. Fear makes men cautious. But resolve…" his voice echoed like thunder across the collapsing realm, "…makes demons kneel. Do not lose either."
The Land of Shadows began to unravel. The ocean of darkness surged upward, swallowing gold, flame, and shadow alike. The void pulled Renji back violently, tearing him from Kenshi's gaze.
The Grandmaster's final words lingered, carved into his soul as the shadows devoured everything.
"Renji Kurogane… you are the abyss given form. Whether savior or destroyer, the choice will always be yours."
And with a jolt, Renji's eyes snapped open—back in the mortal world, just as the first roar of demons shattered the Kokuryūkai's walls.
***Back In Reality***
The gates of the Kokuryūkai compound shuddered as the legion of demons descended, their howls tearing through the midnight fog. Green fire burned in their eyes, claws scraping against the wards etched into the walls. The barrier held—for now.
Inside the courtyard, Captain Hayashi's voice rang out like a whip.
"Gammas—lock formation!"
The lowest-ranked hunters snapped into place, dozens moving as one. Their shadows stretched, reshaping into sleek rifles and sidearms. A moment later, the night split with thunder. Shadow-forged bullets tore through the mist, ripping into the first wave of demons and scattering them into clouds of ash.
"Betas! Alphas! Hold the line!"
The higher ranks surged forward. Betas rushed with blades drawn, their tattoos glowing faintly as wards flickered across their skin. Their shadows hardened into shields and curved swords, clashing against claws and teeth. Blood sprayed, black ichor mixing with the rain-soaked earth.
The Alphas moved like predators, their mastery on display. One conjured a spear of pure shadow, hurling it through three demons at once. Another extended her shadow into a dozen serrated whips, tearing fiends apart in every direction. The ground itself seemed to warp with each of their strikes.
Still, the horde pressed harder. Thirty demons, each more vicious than the last, slammed against the Kokuryūkai lines with relentless fury.
And then, the three masters joined the fray.
Takashi was first. His twin shadow spears darted like lightning, piercing skulls, tearing through throats, never slowing. Every step was clean, efficient, controlled—but already his shoulders were slick with blood.
Hikari followed. Her shadows split into raven-shaped constructs that swooped from the sky, their talons raking demon flesh. Each bird burst into smoke upon impact, only to reform behind another target, their cries echoing through the chaos. Her breaths came heavy, but her eyes burned bright with resolve.
And then—Kazuki.
The Guildmaster strode forward like a storm made flesh. Shadows coiled at his feet, eager, obedient, hungry for command. He lifted a hand, and the dark bent into a massive scythe, its crescent blade gleaming with cold fire.
Three demons leapt at him together, fangs bared.
Kazuki moved once.
The scythe spun in his hands, a blur of black light.
The first demon's head rolled across the ground. The second was cut clean in half, body dissolving into black smoke. The third—Kazuki caught it by the throat on the scythe's return swing, the blade erupting into a dozen jagged spikes that ripped it apart mid-air.
The battlefield stilled. Even Kokuryūkai soldiers spared a glance, awe flickering through their eyes.
And then came Hanzo.
He stepped from the mist, eyes burning a sickly green. His movements were smooth but wrong, each step guided by the will of another. Shura's vessel.
The shadows bent toward him unnaturally, writhing like snakes in agony. His voice cut through the night, layered and distorted.
"Still the same tricks, Kazuki. You forge shadows like a craftsman… but shadows are fickle things. They bend to whoever holds the stronger will."
Kazuki's scythe lowered, its tip dripping black flame. His expression was calm, steel wrapped in resolve.
"And mine," he said, "has not wavered once."
The world seemed to collapse as the two lunged.
Hanzo's corrupted shadows smashed against Kazuki's perfected scythe. Every clash ripped the air with shockwaves, scattering both demons and hunters alike. Sparks of black lightning arced across the battlefield, thunderous cracks rolling as shadow met shadow.
The war had begun in earnest, and at its center, master clashed with fallen disciple—Kazuki against Hanzo—while the Kokuryūkai fought desperately for survival around them.
Renji gasped awake in the meditation chamber, his body drenched in sweat. His right arm glowed faintly with golden light, the amulet clasped tight. The cursed eye pulsed once—hungry, but chained.
He sat there in silence, chest heaving, a laugh breaking from his throat.
"Grandmaster, huh? Fine. Let's see if Shura likes surprises."