The pipe vibrated.
Baku did not take his eyes off Hibiki.
The metallic sound traveled along the ceiling like a warning that came too late for someone who had already learned how to listen for it.
Hibiki advanced at the same time.
Baku understood the intention before the impact was released.
If he backed away, he would give him distance again.
If he jumped to the side, Hibiki would reclaim the center of the corridor.
If he tried to avoid it completely, they would return to the same kind of fight as before.
He did not.
He drove the tip of the pickaxe into the floor.
Mana flowed down through the handle.
The concrete cracked around the metal.
The resonance came from above.
The force struck his right shoulder and part of his back.
Baku lowered his body.
His legs absorbed as much of it as they could.
Pain tore through his side.
His breathing stopped.
But he did not retreat.
Hibiki entered his range.
That was what Baku wanted.
The remnant attacked first.
A straight punch to the face.
Baku tilted his head.
The knuckles grazed the mask.
The second strike went for his abdomen.
Baku blocked with his forearm and felt his ribs protest under the pressure.
He answered with the handle of the pickaxe.
Short.
Dry.
It struck Hibiki in the side.
There was no room for a full mana discharge.
There did not need to be.
Baku turned his hips and drove an elbow forward.
Hibiki raised an arm.
Blocked.
Baku was already changing angle.
Knee to the abdomen.
Hibiki stepped back half a pace.
The metal plate behind Baku's heel vibrated.
The impact stored there was weak.
One Baku himself had placed.
Even so, it was enough.
The small discharge shifted his foot a few centimeters.
Hibiki took advantage.
The punch landed beneath the mask.
Baku's head turned.
A thin line of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
The remnant attacked again.
Baku took the blow on his injured shoulder.
The joint responded late.
Pain.
But now he understood something else.
Hibiki did not need every echo to be devastating.
The small ones were useful too.
Not to kill him.
To break his posture.
Move one foot.
Shift one shoulder.
Open his guard for half a second.
That was enough.
Baku stopped treating weak resonances as background noise.
He began reading them as part of Hibiki's body.
The remnant punched.
A vibration under Baku's left foot.
Baku changed his footing before the impact arrived.
The weak echo released.
His leg barely moved.
Hibiki had prepared a strike to the face expecting his defense to open.
It did not.
Baku slipped beneath the arm.
Stepped in.
The end of the handle struck the abdomen.
Hibiki folded.
Baku pivoted on his front foot and drove his shoulder into the remnant's chest.
Hibiki moved back.
Baku followed.
He did not let him create distance.
Punch.
Block.
Elbow.
Impact against the forearm.
Knee.
Hibiki twisted his body and reduced the force.
The wall on the right vibrated.
Baku recognized the tone.
Weak.
He did not move.
The echo struck his back.
Not enough to throw him.
But Hibiki was waiting for the slight displacement.
He attacked the neck.
Baku lowered his chin.
The blow struck the upper part of the mask.
The already cracked surface gave way.
A dark fragment flew off.
The right side of the mask split open from the cheekbone to near the jaw.
Baku stepped back.
Hibiki gave him no time.
Another strike.
Baku blocked.
The shoulder joint trembled.
Hibiki attacked the same side again.
Baku changed his defense.
Let the fist pass close.
Caught the wrist.
Pulled.
Hibiki lost balance.
Baku drove his forehead into the remnant's face.
The impact rang through the corridor.
Hibiki separated.
Blood ran from his nose again.
Baku released his wrist.
Both of them moved back slightly.
It was not a pause.
Only enough distance to enter again.
Hibiki moved his right foot.
Nothing else.
Baku saw it.
A fraction of a second later, the wall on the same side vibrated.
The echo came.
Baku crouched.
The force passed above him.
Hibiki shifted his weight onto his left leg.
A floor plate answered.
Baku jumped forward, not back.
The discharge burst behind his heel.
Hibiki had to retreat.
Baku did not know whether that shift in weight was truly necessary to activate the technique.
It did not matter.
It was a pattern.
One Hibiki repeated when he needed to control several points with precision.
The remnant moved toward a column.
Baku followed him with his eyes.
Hibiki's shoulder dropped slightly.
The column vibrated.
Baku was already moving.
The impact passed through the space where he had been.
He did not need to see mana.
He had not awakened a new sense.
He had simply taken enough hits to learn when they were coming.
Hibiki understood that he was being read.
He changed.
Stopped preparing the resonances so obviously.
Began moving irregularly.
One step.
Two.
A change of direction.
Baku followed without rushing in.
Hibiki feinted right.
A pipe on the left vibrated.
Baku turned.
The discharge did not come.
A feint.
Hibiki entered through the center.
Baku raised the pickaxe.
The fist struck the handle.
The second landed in his side.
Sharp pain through the injured ribs.
Baku lost his breath.
Hibiki pushed.
A resonance burst from the floor.
This one was strong.
Baku had not identified that section.
The force came from below.
His body lifted.
Before he could fully recover his footing, Hibiki struck his chest.
Baku was thrown backward.
He crashed into a metal structure.
The sound ran through the corridor.
The frame bent around his back.
For a moment, Baku did not move.
The pickaxe fell to one side.
Hibiki watched him.
The damaged part of the mask broke further.
A piece fell to the floor.
Blood beneath it.
A cut ran from the brow toward the temple.
Baku breathed.
His chest barely responded.
Again.
Deeper.
Pain in the ribs.
It did not feel like a complete break.
He could still move.
Hibiki advanced.
More slowly this time.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he already knew enough about Baku to understand that approaching carelessly was dangerous.
Baku placed one hand against the dented structure.
Pushed.
The metal groaned.
Came away from his back.
One foot on the floor.
Then the other.
He picked up the pickaxe.
Stood.
Said nothing.
Hibiki stopped.
Baku raised the weapon.
The corridor stood between them again.
There was something different in the way Baku moved now.
He was no longer searching only for charged surfaces.
He was searching for routes.
Hibiki could move through the center.
He could also use the right side.
The left was partially blocked by a fallen pipe and a plate Baku had disconnected.
Behind him was a side door.
The main corridor continued downward.
Baku looked at everything once.
Then chose his position.
He did not move toward Hibiki.
He shifted left.
Enough to close part of the corridor.
Hibiki saw the opening on the other side.
Moved through it.
Baku took another step.
Hibiki changed angle.
The wall to his right still held a strong resonance.
He used it.
The impact forced Baku to guard.
Hibiki gained ground.
But now he was exactly where Baku wanted him.
Behind him was a section already discharged twice.
On the left, a plate barely connected to the structure.
On the right, a wall Baku had overwritten with a weak strike.
Hibiki raised one hand.
The right wall vibrated.
Baku did not move.
The discharge was minimal.
Hibiki turned.
Left plate.
Another echo.
The loose section shook the air without transferring enough force.
Baku advanced.
Hibiki retreated.
One step.
Another.
He searched for the column behind him.
Baku had already tapped it lightly.
Hibiki triggered it.
The echo barely moved Baku's clothes.
The remnant looked around.
He had not reached that place by accident.
Baku had taken him there.
Not with a technique.
Not with an order.
Simply by occupying the right position each time.
Hibiki changed direction.
Tried to escape through the side.
Baku closed the route.
Hibiki struck.
Baku blocked.
The remnant moved toward the side door.
Baku moved the pickaxe.
He did not attack Hibiki.
The tip struck the metal joint of the door.
One precise hit.
The frame gave way.
The door dropped partially and blocked the path.
Hibiki stopped.
Baku was already behind him.
The handle struck his back.
Hibiki turned.
Punch.
Baku took it on his left shoulder.
Answered with an elbow.
Hibiki separated.
Now he saw it clearly.
The corridor had not become smaller.
His options had.
Hibiki looked toward the passage descending farther below.
For the first time during the fight, his attention stayed there for more than a second.
Baku noticed.
The remnant stopped trying to circle him.
Changed his stance completely.
Lower.
Ready to run.
Baku tightened his grip on the pickaxe.
Hibiki took the first step.
Baku moved at the same time.
The distance closed.
Hibiki struck to create space.
Baku took it on the forearm.
It hurt.
He did not give ground.
Hibiki turned and kicked.
Baku blocked with the handle.
The remnant moved back.
Baku advanced.
Again.
Hibiki tried to pass on the side.
Baku put his body in the way.
The remnant stopped.
"I didn't come for you."
Baku kept the pickaxe low.
"I know."
Hibiki attacked.
There was no more conversation.
The first punch passed beside Baku's face.
The second found his guard.
Baku answered with a short strike.
Hibiki moved aside.
A weak resonance came from a wall and struck Baku's ankle.
His foot shifted.
Hibiki tried to capitalize.
Baku had expected exactly that.
He let the leg give.
Dropped his center of gravity.
When Hibiki entered, Baku turned from below and drove his shoulder into the remnant's abdomen.
Hibiki lifted a few centimeters.
Baku pushed.
Not toward a charged wall.
Toward the area he had already neutralized.
Hibiki fell.
Rolled.
Got up.
Baku was already on him.
The pickaxe came down.
Hibiki dodged.
The metal struck the floor.
No discharge.
Only a mark.
Hibiki moved.
Baku followed.
Now he was the one forcing the remnant to move.
One step right.
Another back.
Hibiki searched for a useful surface.
Found one.
A pipe overhead.
Baku recognized it.
Still charged.
Hibiki raised his arm.
The pipe vibrated.
Baku anchored himself.
The impact came from above.
His knees bent.
The injured shoulder nearly gave out.
But the pickaxe stayed fixed.
Hibiki used that second to try to escape.
Baku ripped the weapon free.
Reached him before the intersection.
The handle struck the back of his knee.
Hibiki dropped onto one leg.
Baku raised the weapon.
The remnant rolled.
The tip passed within centimeters.
Hibiki recovered distance.
The few strong resonances left were running out.
Both of them knew it.
Hibiki stopped saving them.
The floor vibrated.
Then a column.
Then a wall.
Baku looked around.
Three.
The overhead pipe answered too.
Four.
A plate behind him.
Five.
The corridor roared again.
Hibiki spread both hands.
The first resonance came from the left.
Baku turned and caught it with the pickaxe.
The force numbed his fingers.
The second came from the floor.
He jumped.
The third came from above.
He could not avoid it in midair.
He twisted his body.
The discharge struck his shoulder.
He landed badly.
His right leg folded.
Knee to the floor.
Hibiki triggered the rear plate.
Baku drove the pickaxe down.
The echo struck his back.
The tip scraped across the concrete.
Almost came loose.
Baku tightened his grip.
The next impact came from ahead.
He took it with his torso.
His breath stopped.
He bent forward.
Hibiki advanced.
Baku raised his head.
There were still more.
A wall vibrated.
Baku stood.
Took part of the blow on his arm.
Kept moving.
A pipe.
The echo struck his thigh.
His leg failed.
Another step.
The floor.
He jumped too late.
The force caught one foot.
He fell sideways.
Caught himself with one hand.
Got up.
Hibiki retreated.
The walls were still answering.
Baku walked through them.
He did not look invulnerable.
Every impact left something behind.
His breathing grew heavier.
Blood ran from his brow.
The right shoulder was nearly rigid.
A dark stain spread beneath his clothes near the ribs.
But he did not stop.
Hibiki took another step back.
Triggered a column.
Baku recognized the point.
The mark left by the broken staff.
The impact came.
Baku rotated the pickaxe.
The discharge struck the handle and forced him back half a step.
No more.
The column fell silent.
Empty.
Another wall.
The echo left by the hunter with the reinforced glove.
Baku glanced at the body.
The ruined hand was still there.
Hibiki triggered it.
The impact came.
Baku planted both feet.
He did not try to block it head-on.
He angled the weapon.
Let part of the force travel along the handle.
The discharge crossed his chest.
His body shifted.
One boot left the ground.
The other remained.
Baku recovered his footing.
The column stopped vibrating.
One less.
Hibiki kept retreating.
Around him, every surface he used went silent afterward.
One strike.
Silence.
Another.
Silence.
The number of invisible weapons decreased.
Baku advanced through that growing silence.
One remained.
He knew it before it vibrated.
A wall at the far end of the corridor.
Almost untouched compared with everything around it.
Only one mark.
Deep.
Round.
Too clean to have come from an accidental collision.
Baku had avoided going near it from the beginning of the chapter.
Hibiki had too.
That was enough.
The remnant reached that area.
Baku stopped for the first time.
About six meters separated them.
Hibiki was breathing hard.
Blood ran down his face.
His torso was marked from the hits he had taken.
Baku's mask was broken.
One side of his face was partially exposed.
Neither spoke.
Hibiki planted one foot.
The wall vibrated.
The sound was different.
Lower.
Baku looked toward one of the bodies.
Not the man with the glove.
Another.
A hunter slumped against a wall several meters back.
One hand still wrapped around a heavy weapon.
Baku had noticed the mark when he first entered.
Now he understood where it came from.
One of the last blows of the defense.
Maybe the last.
The wall trembled.
The concrete around the mark split open.
Baku lowered the pickaxe.
Drove the tip into the floor.
Mana.
He did not crouch.
Did not retreat.
Did not try to run.
The impact released.
The force crossed the corridor.
Hit Baku.
The sound was dry.
His body folded.
The pickaxe dragged several centimeters.
The cracks around the metal widened.
His left boot moved back.
Then the right.
One step.
Two.
Baku clenched his teeth.
The shoulder nearly gave.
His side burned.
Blood returned to his mouth.
But the tip of the pickaxe stayed inside the floor.
The strike lost force.
Baku raised his head.
The wall stopped vibrating.
Silence.
Hibiki looked at it.
Tried to trigger it again.
Nothing.
The surface remained still.
There was nothing left inside.
The last echo was over.
Baku ripped the pickaxe free.
Advanced.
Hibiki did too.
There was no battlefield anymore.
Only the two of them.
The remnant attacked first.
Punch.
Baku blocked.
Second strike.
Into the side.
Baku did not retreat.
Answered with the handle.
Hibiki deflected it.
Knee.
Blocked.
Hibiki struck the face.
Baku turned.
The fist grazed the broken edge of the mask.
Baku entered beneath the arm.
Short strike to the abdomen.
Hibiki answered with an elbow.
It struck Baku's temple.
His vision shook.
He did not lose the grip.
Caught Hibiki's arm.
The remnant pulled.
Baku held.
Hibiki punched with the other hand.
Baku let it land on the shoulder.
The injured arm almost went dead.
But he still had the other one.
He pulled.
Hibiki lost balance.
Baku struck with his forehead.
The remnant stepped back.
Baku took one step.
Hit the abdomen.
Then the chest.
Hibiki blocked the third.
Baku switched hands.
The handle struck the jaw.
Hibiki flew backward.
The wall was behind him.
The same area he had used before.
Discharged.
Baku entered.
Wrapped an arm around Hibiki's torso.
This time he did not hold back.
He slammed him into the concrete.
The wall cracked.
Hibiki was trapped for a moment between Baku and the surface.
He tried to pull away.
A weak vibration ran through the wall.
Nothing came out.
Hibiki tried again.
The wall did not answer.
Baku saw it.
So did Hibiki.
For a fraction of a second, the remnant stopped fighting.
Not in surrender.
In understanding.
Baku stepped back half a pace.
Raised the pickaxe.
Hibiki tried to move.
The tip entered the center of his torso.
Not deeply.
Not yet.
Baku tightened his grip.
Mana flowed down his arms.
It did not spread into the wall.
It did not disperse through the floor.
It fed no structure.
Every bit of force gathered at the point where the metal touched Hibiki's body.
The remnant's eyes widened.
Baku released it.
There was no large explosion.
The corridor did not shake.
The ceiling did not break.
Hibiki's body arched.
A fracture appeared around the point of contact.
Then another.
They spread across the torso.
The circular markings on his skin twisted.
Mana escaped through the cracks.
Baku kept the pickaxe there.
The discharge ended.
Hibiki tried to raise one hand.
It never made it.
The arm dropped.
His body lost strength.
Baku pulled the weapon free.
Hibiki slid slowly down the wall.
He remained seated for a few seconds.
His head fell to the side.
Then his body began to break apart.
The fingers first.
Then the arms.
Small dark fragments separated and vanished before touching the floor.
The markings on his face were the last to disappear.
Baku did not move until nothing remained.
The corridor was still.
Truly still.
A pipe dripped somewhere.
An emergency light kept flickering.
Nothing else.
Baku breathed.
Once.
The pain in his ribs forced the next breath to come slower.
He rested the tip of the pickaxe against the floor.
Not to anchor himself.
He simply needed to put some of his weight somewhere.
He looked at the wall.
It did not vibrate.
Then the column.
Nothing.
The pipes.
Silence.
For the first time since he had returned to that corridor, the building was simply a building.
Baku turned.
The bodies were still there.
He walked between them.
More slowly than before.
Past the hunter with the broken staff.
Then the man with the reinforced glove.
He stopped.
Looked at the hand.
The weapon lay nearby.
Baku crouched with difficulty.
Picked up the glove that had come partially loose during the fight.
Placed it back beside the body.
Then rested the hunter's hand over it.
Nothing more.
He stood.
The communicator at his waist crackled.
Baku looked at it.
Another burst of static.
Then a voice.
"…Baku…"
Weak.
But recognizable.
Tatsu.
Baku took out the device.
"I hear you."
Several seconds of noise.
"Baku. Respond. What's your situation?"
Baku looked toward where Hibiki had disappeared.
"Still alive."
A pause.
"I assumed that much."
The corner of Baku's mouth moved slightly.
Not enough to become a smile.
Tatsu continued.
"What did you find?"
Baku looked at the bodies.
Then at the destroyed corridor.
"One strong remnant."
Silence.
"Still there?"
Baku rested the pickaxe on his uninjured shoulder.
"One less."
Static filled the line for a few seconds.
Tatsu did not ask how.
"Wounded?"
"I got one out. There are more people heading up from Junction Three."
Baku looked at the bodies again.
"And I need a recovery team down here."
The answer took a moment.
"Understood."
"Medics too."
"For you?"
Baku looked at his shoulder.
The blood.
The broken mask.
"Later."
"Baku."
"Tatsu."
Another pause.
"Don't die."
Baku breathed out through his nose.
"Good plan."
The connection cut.
Baku put the communicator away.
In another section of headquarters, much higher up, a remnant stopped in the middle of a corridor.
Waited.
Nothing.
It looked toward a wall.
Then the ceiling.
A smaller remnant stood beside a closed door.
"What is it?"
The first did not answer immediately.
It waited again.
The signal did not come.
Until then, certain routes, changes in patrol patterns, and hunter movements had arrived with a regularity too clear to mistake.
Now there was nothing.
The remnant looked toward the passage ahead.
"We continue."
"Without waiting?"
"Yes."
Both moved on.
The operation did not stop.
But one of the voices keeping it organized had just disappeared.
Baku remained in the corridor for a few more seconds.
He leaned his back against a wall.
The contact immediately reminded him of every impact that had come out of surfaces like it.
He looked over his shoulder.
Nothing.
He raised one hand.
Closed his fist.
For a moment, it looked like he was considering punching the concrete.
He did not.
He lowered the arm.
Breathed slowly.
The rest did not last long.
He pushed away from the wall.
Adjusted what remained of the mask over his face.
Gripped the pickaxe.
And started walking toward the next corridor.
Behind him, no vibration remained.
No response.
No echo.