Renji opened his eyes and found himself lying on cold stone. His throat was dry, his lungs heavy, and every breath came out with a cough of black dust.
He sat up slowly, frowning. The place around him was nothing but ruins—broken towers, dead trees, and endless Mist that moved like it was alive.
When he touched his chest, his heartbeat felt weak and strange, almost like it didn't belong to him.
"…What the hell happened to me?" he muttered.
He tried standing. His legs were shaky, as if they weren't his own. Even the grip on his sword felt different, lighter, like he was holding a copy instead of the real thing.
Something was wrong with his body.
Renji forced himself to breathe and looked around again. The last thing he remembered was the Soulgrave swallowing him and Yurei. But now, there was no sign of her. No voice. No shadow. Nothing.
"Yurei…?" he called, his voice echoing in the empty ruins.
No answer. Only Mist moving closer, like it had heard him.
His jaw tightened. "…Don't mess with me. Where is she?"
A low whisper answered from the fog. Where she belongs. Where you left her.
Renji spun, raising his sword. "Who's there?!"
The whisper only laughed, then faded.
He clenched his teeth. His heart pounded harder, uneven, painful. It wasn't fear—it was rage.
But then something stopped him.
He caught a reflection in a pool of water beside the broken stones. He stepped closer, staring down.
The face staring back was his… but cracked. Dark lines spread across his skin like broken glass. His eyes glowed faintly gray, and when he moved his lips, the reflection smiled before he did.
"What the—"
You're not Renji anymore, the reflection whispered. You're just what's left.
Renji stumbled back, sword trembling in his hand.
Before he could react, footsteps echoed. Another figure stepped out from the Mist.
Renji froze.
It was him.
But whole. Strong. Breathing steady. Eyes alive.
The other Renji looked at him with calm disdain. "So this is what's left of me?"
Renji gritted his teeth. "You're not me."
The other smirked. "No. I'm what you abandoned in the Soulgrave. You? You're the husk."
Renji's grip tightened on his sword. "Shut up."
The double tilted his head. "Look at yourself. Weak heartbeat. Broken body. A shadow with stolen skin. How long do you think you can keep moving like that?"
Renji's breathing grew heavy. "Doesn't matter. I'm still here. That's enough."
The double laughed quietly, stepping closer. "You call this living? You don't even know if the girl you're chasing was real. Maybe she was nothing but Mist."
Renji's eyes widened. "…Shut your mouth."
But the words sank into him like knives. Doubt pressed down harder than the Mist itself.
The double's expression hardened. "You're not chasing truth. You're running from it."
Renji roared and slashed forward, his sword cutting through empty air. The Mist swallowed the strike, and when it cleared, the other Renji was gone.
Only silence remained.
Renji's chest heaved, his heartbeat louder, unstable. The crack inside him widened.
For the first time, he wondered if the voice was right.
Maybe he really was nothing but a husk.
Renji didn't know how long he stood there, blade shaking in his hand. The ruins were silent again, but his ears still rang with that voice.
You're the husk.
He wanted to deny it. He wanted to scream. But when he touched his chest, when he felt that sluggish heartbeat, the doubt only grew sharper.
He started walking.
The ground crumbled beneath every step, stone breaking into powder. The world was falling apart—faster than before. Mist covered everything, swallowing distance, choking the air.
No matter where he looked, there were no signs of life. No monsters. No humans. Not even the shrieks of the damned he'd grown used to. Just emptiness.
"This isn't the same world…" he muttered. His voice sounded too thin in the silence.
Maybe it was the same place, but further rotted. Or maybe Respawn had thrown him into a different layer altogether. He didn't know.
And yet… the Mist knew.
Closer, it whispered. You're closer now. To nothing.
Renji clenched his teeth. "Shut up. I'm not listening to you."
The whisper only laughed.
He pressed forward, step after step, through broken towers and shattered trees. Every so often, he saw her.
Yurei.
A pale figure at the edge of his vision, hair white against the dark fog. She stood there silently, just watching him. Every time he tried to reach her, she vanished, melting into smoke.
His throat tightened. "…Are you even real?"
No answer.
The silence was heavier than words.
Renji stopped beside a collapsed wall, resting his back against it. His body felt strange—light, but not free. It was like wearing a suit that didn't fit, too loose in some places, too tight in others. His grip on his sword kept slipping, as though his hands had forgotten the weight.
"This isn't me…" he muttered again, voice low.
The Mist stirred. Then who are you?
Renji shut his eyes. The whispers wouldn't leave.
And then the ground shook.
A sound split the silence—a deep, grinding moan of stone tearing apart. Cracks ripped through the earth, glowing faintly with pale light. Shapes began to rise from the fissures, twisting shadows forming limbs, jaws, eyes.
Monsters.
But not like before. These weren't born of flesh. They were born of souls—shattered fragments crawling together, stitched by the Mist. Their bodies flickered, shifting faces stretching across them like masks.
Renji's blood ran cold. He recognized some of those faces.
Respawners.
Men and women he had seen die. Their empty eyes stared at him from the creatures' skin, mouths opening in silent screams as the monsters lunged forward.
Renji's sword shot up instinctively. Steel clashed with shadow, sparks bursting from contact. The force rattled his arms.
He gritted his teeth. "I'm still here. I'm still me!"
He slashed, cutting through one beast. It shattered into smoke and faces that dissolved into the fog. But more came, crawling, snarling, their jaws stretching too wide.
Renji fought, blade flashing again and again, each strike desperate. He cut them down, but each kill only made the Mist stronger, the air heavier. His heartbeat pounded, uneven, threatening to stop.
And through it all, the whispers pressed into his mind.
You're not killing them. You're joining them.
His vision blurred. The cracks on his skin throbbed, glowing faintly gray. His sword arm trembled.
One monster slammed into him, knocking him back against broken stone. His chest screamed with pain, heart sputtering like it was about to give out.
Renji roared, shoving it off and stabbing through its throat. Smoke exploded around him.
He staggered to his knees, coughing, nearly dropping his weapon.
And then he heard it.
A voice. Clear. Human.
"Renji."
He froze. His head snapped up.
Through the wall of Mist, she stepped out.
Yurei.
Her pale figure was the same as always—fragile, quiet, beautiful in the way snow is before it buries a body. But her eyes…
Her eyes were black. Completely. And from the cracks in her skin, Mist bled out like veins of smoke.
Renji's throat closed. His sword wavered in his hand.
"Yurei…?" His voice broke.
She tilted her head, hair falling across her face. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but carried weight enough to crush him.
"Renji… why did you leave me there?"
The Mist around her pulsed, alive, hungry.
Renji's heart skipped a beat.
The blade nearly slipped from his hand.