The Axiomatic Palace was no longer a prison; it had become a cosmic amphitheater. As the Architects stood with their slips of paper, the Pirate Arbiter—the silent observer who had followed them through the worlds—stepped out from the shadows of a pillar.
"You think he's a god," the Arbiter rasped, his eyes fixed on Malak. "You think he was born from the void."
Malak's porcelain face twitched. "Silence, scavenger."
"No," the Arbiter continued, looking at Tanjiro and Gojo. "He was a boy once. From a world where humans were given the wings of angels and the arrows of gods to decide who would lead the next universe. He saw his world crumble because a single human—a 'God Candidate'—decided that existence wasn't worth the effort. His world didn't just die; it was erased because of human weakness."
The Architects looked at Malak. The Monarch's calm demeanor shattered. His porcelain skin began to crack, revealing a swirling, angry darkness beneath.
"They were unworthy!" Malak roared, his voice shaking the foundations of the palace. "They were given the power of creators and they chose nothingness! I am not a monster! I am the cure! I restart your worlds because you cannot be trusted with 'progress'! I take you back to Square One because at the beginning, you are at least harmless! I am the only one who can ensure the cycle never ends in silence again!"
The rage in Malak's voice was human. It was the bitterness of a survivor who had lost everything.
"Now," Malak hissed, his eyes glowing with a terrifying light. "Prove you are better than the fools of my world. Prove you deserve to keep your memories. Match 1: Tanjiro Kamado vs. Okarun!"
The arena floor turned into a swirling sea of fire and spectral energy. The restrictions were gone.
Tanjiro Kamado took a deep breath. His lungs felt like they were forged in a furnace. The mark on his forehead deepened, spreading across his face. He didn't just hold his sword; he was the sword.
Okarun hunched low, his white hair standing on end. The Turbo Granny's curse was no longer a burden; it was a surge of raw, supernatural adrenaline. "I'm sorry, Tanjiro-kun. But if I lose... if I'm restarted... I'll forget Momo. I'll forget everyone. I can't let that happen!"
"Turbo... MAX!"
Okarun vanished. A purple sonic boom shattered the air. He hit Tanjiro like a meteor, but Tanjiro didn't budge.
"Hinokami Kagura: Solar Heat Haze!"
Tanjiro's body blurred as the heat distorted the air. Okarun's clawed hand passed right through him. Tanjiro spun, his blade a circular arc of pure solar radiation.
"Hinokami Kagura: Burning Sun!"
The collision sent a shockwave through the palace. Okarun used the momentum to bounce off the ceiling, coming down like a lightning bolt. Tanjiro countered with Setting Sun Transformation, flipping in mid-air to dodge the strike.
The fight moved at speeds the human eye couldn't track. Purple sparks flew where Okarun's claws met Tanjiro's burning steel.
"I have to see it!" Tanjiro thought, blood trickling from his nose. "The Opening Thread!"
He saw it—a tiny, flickering line of purple light connecting Okarun's heart to the center of the arena.
"Total Concentration: Sun Breathing... Sun Halo Dragon Head Dance!"
A massive dragon of fire erupted, its body coiling through the arena. It wasn't just fire; it was the concentrated essence of the sun. Okarun tried to outrun it, his feet shattering the obsidian floor with every step, but the dragon followed his every movement.
Okarun screamed, pouring every ounce of curse energy into his final dash. He became a needle of purple light, piercing through the dragon's head.
BOOM!
The explosion leveled the arena. When the smoke cleared, Tanjiro was standing, his sword inches from Okarun's throat. Okarun was back in his human form, his clothes charred, his breathing shallow.
"I... I lost," Okarun whispered.
The RestartMalak didn't wait. He raised his hand. "Variable Okarun: Failed. Initiating Square One Protocol."
"No! Wait!" Tanjiro cried out, reaching for his friend.
Okarun looked at Tanjiro, and for a second, his eyes were clear. "It's okay, Tanjiro. Just... make sure you win. Don't let him restart everything."
Okarun's body dissolved into blue static. He wasn't dead, but his presence in the "Reset Game" was gone. Somewhere, in a version of his own world, a boy named Raita Okkotsu woke up in his bed, looking at his posters of aliens and ghosts, with no memory of the Architects, no memory of Momo, and no memory of the war they had fought.
Winner: Tanjiro Kamado.
Malak turned his gaze to the next pair. "Next. The man who cannot be moved vs. the man who cannot be human. Saitama vs. Dazai Osamu."