The brothers stood at the edge of the ruined village, the sun setting in a haze of crimson and smoke. Supira clenched his new Spiral Staff, while Doraibu flexed his gauntlets, both silent, waiting for Kaosu to speak.
"We can't just charge in," Kaosu said finally, his voice rough, but steady. "The Dark Nexus is expecting us. If we want to bring Shimo back… we need to be stronger."
Supira's gaze hardened, but he nodded. "Then we find our strength."
Doraibu smirked faintly, trying to mask the dread gnawing at him. "Guess this is where we split up?"
Kaosu gave a single nod. "For now. Train, sharpen your Nexus, push yourselves beyond what you know. When the time comes, we'll meet again."
With few words, the brothers turned and went their separate paths, leaving Kaosu standing alone beneath the weight of his plan.
When silence wrapped around him, he closed his eyes, sinking inward. Kudo… come out.
A chuckle echoed, velvet and mocking, as reality shifted. Suddenly Kaosu found himself seated in a sprawling palace of black marble and silver flames. Kudo lounged across a throne of fractured glass, sipping tea as if Kaosu had simply interrupted a quiet evening.
"You called, and here I am," Kudo said with a sly smile. "So, what does my little king want now?"
Kaosu steadied his voice. "How do I act like a king?"
For a moment, Kudo's grin froze — then widened, sharp as a blade. "Oh… so you're finally asking the right questions." He rose, each step echoing like thunder. "Chaos, Kaosu, isn't just destruction. It is everywhere — every second, every heartbeat, every flicker of fear, rage, or sorrow. Harness that, and you won't just act like a king. You'll become one."
"How?"
"Prove it."
Kudo's voice thundered in Kaosu's skull, and suddenly he was standing once more in the real world — but different. He felt the emotions of the town around him, flooding through his chest like wildfire. The grief of villagers mourning their burned homes, the despair of children crying for their parents, the rage in his own heart, and the pain of seeing his master fall.
All of it flowed into him. Chaos churned inside like a roaring sea, overflowing, unstoppable.
When he opened his eyes again, the palace returned — but brighter, sharper, alive with his power.
Kudo stared, eyes wide with something Kaosu had never seen in him before: awe. "…You did it."
Kaosu's breathing was heavy, but he stood tall.
"Now, the final step," Kudo said softly. "To be king is not just to feel reality — it is to command it. Demand that the world bends to your will. You're not ready for the full truth yet… but begin small. Shape the void with your imagination."
Kaosu closed his eyes. He pictured a spoon. It appeared. A cup. It shimmered in his hand. Then he pushed further — the palace expanded, twisting, reforming until it was his childhood home, warm and familiar.
When Kaosu opened his eyes, Kudo's smirk was gone. Instead, he stood silently, staring at him. Finally, he bowed his head.
"…You're ready, my King."
Kaosu let out a slow breath, realization dawning. "This was all a test, wasn't it? You weren't just trying to take over me… You've been protecting this power, nurturing it, waiting for me to claim it."
Kudo blinked — for once, caught off guard. His lips parted, but no words came.
Kaosu gave him a faint smile. "Don't call me king. Just call me Kaosu. And tell me more about you."
For the first time, Kudo looked shaken. "…You… want to know about me?"
The black flames flickered uncertainly, and Kaosu knew then — Kudo wasn't just chaos. He was something more.