The rain had slowed to a drizzle, leaving the streets slick and shining under flickering neon lights. Arata Kurogane stood at the edge of an abandoned warehouse, eyes sharp, body coiled like a spring. Every instinct told him the Ribbon Reaper was near—and this time, he had prepared something personal.
This isn't just a trap for his body… it's a trap for his mind, Arata thought, tracing patterns of previous attacks and absences. He had studied every behavioral tick, every hesitation, every weakness.
Inside the warehouse, Kane moved like a shadow, ribbons glinting crimson in the dim light. He had sensed the trap forming before it even happened.
"They think they can control me," Kane muttered through Lucian's voice. "Fools. I will break them… one by one."
Lucian trembled beneath the surface, struggling to hold onto his golden warmth.
I can't… not now… I can't let them see…
Arata had set up decoys: mannequins dressed as officers, armed with simulated weapons, and a network of mirrors and motion sensors. He wasn't just hunting Kane—he was trying to force Lucian to surface, to tempt the human within into making a mistake.
From a shadowed corner, Arata whispered into his radio:
"Trigger the holographic signals. Make him think he's surrounded."
Ribbons lashed through the air as Kane reacted, calculating and lethal, dismantling every obstacle. But with every movement, Lucian's golden eyes flickered more, the human consciousness clawing to the surface.
Sera perched above the warehouse, sniper scope trained, pulse racing. She had followed Lucian for weeks, memorizing his shifts, his strange disappearances, his dual personalities.
Now, she saw it clearly—Kane was ruthless, terrifying, but Lucian was still in there, begging silently for help.
Her finger hovered on the trigger, shaking. One shot… or wait…
She whispered under her breath, "Lucian… hold on. I can't lose you yet."
Kane lunged at the holographic decoy, and Arata stepped out of the shadows, pistol aimed steadily.
"You can't hide behind illusions anymore," Arata said. "Show yourself, Ribbon Reaper!"
Lucian screamed inside, golden eyes burning through Kane's void-black dominance:
Stop… don't… don't let him hurt anyone!
But Kane laughed, ribbons lashing violently around Arata's decoys, forcing him back:
"You think your games can contain me? I am justice incarnate!"
For the first time, Kane hesitated. Lucian's voice, weak but persistent, cut through the storm of control:
"Please… I can't…"
Arata noticed the subtle tremor in Kane's posture, the split second when the ribbons wavered. The detective's sharp mind caught it immediately.
There's a crack in him… a moment of hesitation… that's the opening.
The warehouse hummed with tension. Outside, the storm had quieted, leaving only the echo of distant sirens and the rhythmic drip of rain. Inside, the battle was no longer physical—it was mental, a war of control, will, and survival.