Night settled fully over the Swordsmith Village, heavy and watchful.
The moon hung low, pale and sharp, its light fractured by drifting smoke from the forges that never truly slept. Patrol routes shifted in silence. Guards moved with disciplined urgency, but beneath their composure lay an unease that could not be drilled away. Everyone felt it now.
Something had changed.
Karina stood alone at the edge of the eastern watch platform, cloak drawn close, Arcane Breathing reduced to its lowest operational hum. Her senses were extended far beyond the physical boundaries of the village, probing for distortions, fluctuations, anything that did not belong.
Gyokko had not withdrawn.
He had repositioned.
That realization tightened something inside her chest—not fear, but calculation under pressure. Gyokko was adapting faster than anticipated. More troubling still, Muzan's attention had not faded after its brief brush earlier that day. It lingered like a distant gravitational pull, subtle but oppressive.
"You're overextending again."
Mitsuri's voice came from behind her, gentle but firm. Karina had sensed her approach long before the words, yet she did not turn.
"I am maintaining perimeter awareness," Karina replied.
"And exhausting yourself," Mitsuri countered, stepping beside her. She leaned lightly against the railing, close enough that Karina could feel the warmth radiating from her even through the cool night air. "You haven't rested since the probe."
"Rest is inefficient during escalation phases."
Mitsuri smiled faintly, but there was no humor in her eyes this time. "That's not what Shinobu said."
Karina finally turned her head. "Shinobu's priority is preservation. Mine is containment."
"And what if containment requires you to be functional?" Mitsuri asked quietly.
The question landed with unexpected force.
Karina studied Mitsuri's expression—open, concerned, unguarded. There was no accusation there. Only presence. It was… disarming.
"I am functional," Karina said.
Mitsuri reached out before Karina could move away, her fingers brushing Karina's wrist—light, deliberate. "You're effective. That's not the same thing."
The contact sent a subtle ripple through Karina's Arcane rhythm. Not destabilizing—centering. She did not pull away.
"This bond," Karina said after a moment, voice low, "is becoming increasingly influential."
Mitsuri's lips curved into a small smile. "You say that like it's a malfunction."
"It is a deviation."
"From what?"
Karina hesitated.
From solitude. From control without consequence. From a life where attachments were variables to be eliminated, not integrated.
"I don't know," she admitted.
Mitsuri's fingers tightened just slightly around Karina's wrist. "Then maybe it's not a deviation. Maybe it's evolution."
Before Karina could respond, the air twisted.
Not violently—precisely.
Karina's head snapped up. Every Arcane sense flared at once.
"He's here," she said. "Not manifesting. Anchoring again."
Mitsuri's expression hardened instantly, Love Hashira composure snapping into place. "Where?"
"Below the southern ravine," Karina replied. "Near the blade storage tunnels."
"That's where the prototypes are," Mitsuri said sharply. "Unfinished swords."
"Which makes them ideal contamination vectors."
They moved without further discussion.
The descent into the ravine was swift and silent, their movements synchronized by now without conscious effort. Stone gave way to carved tunnel entrances, the air growing cooler, damp, and faintly metallic. Lanterns flickered along the walls, their light distorted in subtle, nauseating ways.
Karina slowed, raising a hand.
The distortion was stronger here.
Gyokko's influence seeped through the stone itself, threading into the unfinished blades stacked along the walls. The metal sang softly—an off-key resonance that set Karina's teeth on edge.
"He's corrupting the swords," Mitsuri whispered.
"Yes," Karina said. "Turning them into conduits."
A low, echoing chuckle reverberated through the tunnels.
"So perceptive," Gyokko crooned, his voice oozing from every surface at once. "Such sensitivity. Such… interdependence."
Mitsuri's jaw tightened. "Show yourself."
"Oh, but that would spoil the experiment," Gyokko replied. "This isn't about destruction tonight. It's about pressure."
The blades along the walls began to vibrate.
Karina reacted instantly. "Do not touch them."
Too late.
One blade tore free from its rack, streaking toward Mitsuri with unnatural speed. Karina intercepted it mid-air, her blade flashing.
First Form: Arcane – Mirage Blade.
The corrupted sword split cleanly in two—but instead of falling inert, both halves multiplied, erupting into a swarm of razor-edged fragments.
Mitsuri gasped, leaping back, her blade whipping around her in a defensive spiral. "They're replicating!"
"They are bound to emotional proximity," Karina realized, eyes narrowing. "He's using resonance."
Gyokko laughed delightedly. "Yes! Yes! Isn't it elegant? The closer you are, the louder the song becomes."
Fragments surged toward Mitsuri.
Karina moved without thinking.
She stepped directly into Mitsuri's space, one arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her sharply back against her own body. The fragments veered violently, their trajectory collapsing as Karina's Arcane field surged outward.
Second Form: Arcane – Spatial Severance.
Space itself split, swallowing the fragments into nothingness.
For a heartbeat, they remained like that—pressed together, Mitsuri's back against Karina's chest, Karina's breath steady against Mitsuri's ear.
Mitsuri's pulse was fast.
Alive.
Grounded.
Gyokko hissed. "Fascinating. You shield instead of sever."
Karina released Mitsuri slowly, deliberately. "You miscalculated."
"Oh?" Gyokko purred. "Did I?"
The tunnel walls bloomed.
Illusions flooded the space—not grotesque, not violent, but intimate. Reflections of moments that had not happened… yet felt terrifyingly plausible. Hands lingering too long. Glances held too deeply. Heat shared in the dark.
Mitsuri froze.
Her breathing faltered.
Karina felt it immediately—the pull, the vulnerability, the intrusion. Gyokko wasn't attacking their bodies.
He was attacking possibility.
"No," Karina said sharply. "Reject it."
Mitsuri shook her head, eyes wide. "He's… showing us…"
"Lies," Karina snapped. She stepped forward, placing both hands firmly on Mitsuri's shoulders. "Look at me."
Mitsuri's gaze wavered, then locked onto Karina's.
The illusions intensified, pressing in from all sides.
Karina inhaled deeply, Arcane Breathing spiking—not wildly, but purposefully. She let the emotional surge rise instead of suppressing it, feeding it into structure rather than chaos.
Third Form: Arcane – Optical Fracture.
Reality screamed.
The illusions shattered like glass, collapsing inward as Karina's Arcane field asserted dominance. The corrupted blades fell silent, clattering harmlessly to the stone floor.
Gyokko shrieked, his voice distorted with fury. "You shouldn't be able to do that! Emotional interference should destabilize you!"
Karina did not flinch. "You assumed emotion equaled loss of control."
She stepped forward, eyes cold, voice unwavering.
"You were wrong."
Mitsuri exhaled shakily behind her, then straightened, blade steady once more. "We're still here," she said softly. "Together."
Gyokko's presence recoiled, the tunnel pressure easing. "Enjoy it while you can," he snarled. "Muzan-sama will find this development… intolerable."
The distortion vanished.
Silence fell heavily over the tunnels.
Karina lowered her blade slowly, Arcane Breathing settling back into controlled flow. Only then did she turn to Mitsuri.
"Are you injured?" she asked.
Mitsuri shook her head. "No. Just… shaken."
Karina nodded once. "He will escalate. Directly."
Mitsuri met her gaze, eyes steady despite the lingering adrenaline. "Then we'll escalate too."
A pause.
"Mitsuri," Karina said, hesitating just enough to make the next words matter. "What you saw—those illusions—"
"I know," Mitsuri interrupted gently. "They were projections. Possibilities twisted into weapons."
She stepped closer, her voice soft but resolute. "But even twisted possibilities come from somewhere."
Karina searched her face, looking for fear, doubt, hesitation.
She found none.
"This bond," Karina said quietly, "will be targeted again."
Mitsuri smiled, warm and unafraid. "Then let them try."
For the first time, Karina did not frame the situation in terms of threat vectors or containment.
She framed it as resolve.
Above them, unseen, Gyokko withdrew fully, fury simmering beneath calculation.
And far away, in the depths of the Infinity Castle, Muzan Kibutsuji's lips curved into a slow, displeased smile.
Two women.
One anomaly.
One fault line in fate.
And a war that was about to become personal.