Kaito didn't wait.
As the first of the black-cloaked enemies surged forward, he met them mid-charge. Nightcleaver howled in his grip, its edge leaving trails of ghostfire as it sliced cleanly through the first attacker.
But the body didn't fall.
It disintegrated—reforming into ash and shadow, then striking again.
"They're not alive," Isha shouted. "They're reflections!"
Kaito pivoted, ducked a slash, and sent a pulse of energy through Nightcleaver. The next swing carved not just through one Forgotten Blade, but through the echoes behind it—shattering the lingering memory.
The others hesitated.
"You're learning," Isha called, striking with a series of graceful, arcing slashes. Her sword didn't cut—it unraveled, removing parts of the enemy from reality itself.
Kaito breathed hard. "If these are just shadows, what happens when we find the one casting them?"
Isha looked up at the mirrored sky. "That's the problem. The Sovereign doesn't cast a shadow. He is one."
More enemies emerged, and with each clash, Kaito felt Nightcleaver adapting—feeding off the realm itself. This world was strange, but it belonged to the blade.
And maybe… to him.
After the last of the Forgotten Blades vanished into smoke, Kaito dropped to one knee. His breathing was ragged. His mind buzzed with memories that weren't his—yet felt like they belonged.
"I'm changing," he said.
Isha helped him up. "No. You're awakening."
She led him to a circular platform. It rose into the air with no sound, carrying them above the coliseum, into the clouds of memory.
Beneath them, the Realm stretched in every direction—fractured lands, floating citadels, rivers of light flowing uphill. A storm brewed on the horizon, flashing with spectral fire.
And in the center of it all…
A floating palace of obsidian and bone, suspended above a black sea.
"The Echo Throne," Isha whispered. "The Sovereign watches from there. If you want the rest of your power—if you want to become whole—you have to go through him."
Kaito gripped Nightcleaver. "Then we go."
But Isha didn't move.
"There's something you should know," she said quietly. "This realm isn't just testing your strength—it's judging your right to exist."
Kaito turned. "What do you mean?"
"This isn't just about reclaiming your past. If you fail… this realm won't just erase you—it'll erase every version of you that ever existed."
Kaito's grip tightened.
"Then I can't fail," he said.
Not now.
Not again.