The Void trembled.
Not with sound — but with memory.
Ren's heartbeat pulsed through the emptiness, and each throb tore faint scars in the fabric of space. His eyes glowed faint red, their calmness more terrifying than rage itself. Around him, shadows bent inward — as though bowing to something ancient, something finally awake.
He raised his hand slowly. The tendrils of darkness coiled around his wrist like obedient serpents.
"Everything returns to origin," he whispered. "Even them."
A faint echo — a voice from nowhere and everywhere — answered:
> "The cycle has been broken."
Ren smiled faintly. "Good."
His palm tightened — and in the distance, the Void cracked. A surge of pressure burst outward like a silent scream, racing across dimensions. It moved not as energy, but as remembrance. The world itself began to recall something it had been forced to forget.
---
Earth – Kyoto perimeter
The air grew heavy.
Ryozen stopped mid-step. His coat fluttered against the pressure. He turned his head, eyes narrowing.
"…Ren," he whispered.
A faint tremor rippled through the sky, distorting even sunlight. The air shimmered like a reflection on disturbed water. He felt it — a resonance buried deep within his soul, familiar and wrong at once.
The Wheel of Samsara appeared behind him unbidden, spinning faster than before. Half of it glowed gold. The other, black — struggling to stay in balance.
And then, without warning — pain.
A searing, crawling ache behind his ribs. Not physical. Memory.
> He's calling to the mark.
Ryozen's gaze darted toward the city's horizon.
Akira.
---
Akira stood alone among the ruins.
His blade rested at his side, faintly humming with leftover energy from the last battle. The world had gone quiet again — too quiet. Even the wind felt unnatural, as if it was afraid to move.
He blinked, and for a moment, everything slowed. The outlines of the world wavered — turning grainy, fragmented. Like a dream breaking apart.
He heard whispers.
> "You remember, don't you?"
"You were not born — you returned."
"Masahiro's mark cannot be silenced."
Akira clutched his head, teeth gritted. "Shut up—"
The mark on his neck flared black. A web of light ran down his shoulder, veins igniting like cracks in stone. His reflection in the blade no longer looked human — one eye red, one pure void.
The voice deepened.
> "He awakens. So must you."
Then the world shifted.
The sky darkened as if painted over by invisible hands.
Ryozen appeared in a flash of gold and black aura, landing several feet away, his coat fluttering against the storm's pull.
"Akira!" His tone was sharp — commanding, but not angry. "Stop channeling the mark. It's reacting to Ren's call!"
Akira's breath trembled. His aura rippled violently, feeding off the pull from beyond.
"I can't… it's inside me. It's like something's dragging me into the dark."
Ryozen extended his hand, the Wheel manifesting behind him in full — spinning with both divine and abyssal force.
"Then let me stabilize it."
Akira's head jerked up. "No! If you touch it, it'll pull you in too—"
Too late.
A surge of dark energy burst outward, a wave of black and crimson light that swallowed the entire street. Ryozen braced, his Wheel spinning faster, absorbing most of the impact — but through the chaos, he saw it.
Akira's mark had changed shape.
The symbol — once a burning seal — now resembled an eye of a dragon, slit-pupiled, layered with concentric circles.
It blinked.
And in that blink, Ryozen saw another soul staring back.
Masahiro.
---
For a heartbeat, both worlds overlapped.
Ryozen stood not in the city but in a temple of broken stars. Before him, Akira's form flickered — sometimes himself, sometimes another man draped in black and red robes, his presence suffocating, eyes like twin voids.
"Masahiro…" Ryozen whispered.
The man smiled faintly. "So, even death couldn't make you forget me."
Ryozen's grip on his glaive tightened. "I sealed you once. I can do it again."
Masahiro chuckled — and Akira's voice echoed beneath it, caught in the same breath.
"You didn't seal me, old friend. You delayed me. But your Wheel has turned too many times. The cycle bends toward me now."
Lightning split the temple sky.
Ryozen moved — instantly, blade and light merging. His strike was pure precision, divine and dark coiled into one. It connected — or should have.
Masahiro's form dissolved like mist.
Behind him, Akira gasped, his hand clutching his chest. "Stop… stop it!"
Ryozen turned sharply. "Fight it, Akira! It's using your soul as a bridge!"
The mark pulsed again. Akira fell to his knees, his voice breaking through the storm. "He's… showing me his memories. I can see his life… the betrayal, the fall, the cycle…"
The world flickered back to reality. Akira's scream echoed through the ruins as Ryozen reached forward — summoning the Wheel's center sigil.
> "Cycle Seal: Third Layer — Memory Bind!"
Golden light shot from his palm, wrapping around Akira like ribbons of sunlight. The mark hissed, resisting, but the Wheel's glow began to calm its edges.
For a moment — silence.
The world stopped collapsing.
Ryozen lowered his arm, panting. "You're stable — for now."
Akira looked up, sweat and shadow dripping from his face. "What… was that?"
Ryozen's gaze hardened. "Ren's awakening is shaking the balance between the Real and the Void. The marks are resonating — every bearer connected to the original cycle will feel the pull."
Akira clenched his fists. "Then that means… Masahiro's mark inside me is reacting to him."
"Yes." Ryozen's eyes narrowed. "And if Ren continues, it won't just be resonance. It will be reclamation. The mark will try to overwrite you completely."
Akira stared down at his hands, trembling. The veins of black still faintly glowed beneath his skin. "Then I'll stop him."
Ryozen stepped closer. "You can't. Not yet. You'll be walking right into his pull."
Akira looked up, fire cutting through the fear. "Then I'll learn to control it before it controls me."
Ryozen's jaw tightened. "That's exactly what Masahiro once said."
The silence that followed felt heavier than the sky.
---
The Void
Ren floated among collapsing fragments of black light. His aura burned darker now, forming a throne of shadow beneath him. In front of him, ghostly reflections of Akira and Ryozen flickered faintly in the air.
He watched them — calm, calculating.
"Perfect," he murmured. "He's remembering."
One of the shadows beside him — a voice that belonged to none but the Void itself — whispered:
> "You intend to use the Rebirth Link?"
Ren's gaze flicked toward the abyss. "Not yet. Let him struggle. The more he resists, the more he awakens. The chain will complete itself."
He turned his hand upward. Within his palm, a faint black crystal pulsed — the core of a Shadow, taken from a fallen beast. Its heartbeat matched Akira's.
"Soon," Ren whispered. "The vessel will break, and the god will return."
He smiled faintly — cold, certain.
"Let the Wheel spin one last time."
---
The storm over Kyoto subsided. Ryozen stood on a rooftop, staring toward the fading sky. Akira rested below, silent but awake. The city was quiet — but in that silence, both of them felt it.
The Wheel of Samsara rotated slowly behind Ryozen — its balance slipping by a fraction.
He closed his eyes.
"Ren… Masahiro… and now Akira. The cycle tightens."
He looked down toward Akira, who stared into the horizon, unaware that faint red light still flickered beneath his skin.
Ryozen's voice was barely a whisper.
> "If he turns… will I have the strength to stop him again?"
The wind carried no answer. Only the echo of an ancient promise between two souls — one still bound to light, the other already claimed by shadow.