The gates to the Echo Throne groaned open, revealing a spiraling corridor of time and light.
Kaito stepped in first. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, he felt watched. Not by eyes, but by memories—millions of them—hovering, judging, whispering truths he hadn't dared face.
Isha followed in silence, her hand resting lightly on her sword's hilt.
The corridor led into a circular hall, impossibly large. It had no walls, no floor—only floating platforms orbiting a pulsing black sun at the center. The throne itself sat suspended above the core, forged from bones of forgotten beasts and steel too old to rust.
On it sat the Echo Sovereign.
Clad in a cloak of unraveling timelines, his face was masked—shifting constantly between all versions of Kaito that had ever existed: king, killer, wanderer, savior.
"You've returned," the Sovereign's voice echoed. It wasn't a greeting—it was a sentence.
Kaito stepped forward. "I've come for what was taken."
The Sovereign rose, his blade unfurling like a serpent from shadow. "And what if what was taken was kept for a reason?"
Kaito's eyes narrowed. "I don't need permission to be whole."
The Sovereign snapped his fingers.
From the void emerged echoes—versions of Kaito twisted by rage, regret, fear. They circled him like wolves.
"The fragments of your soul you abandoned," the Sovereign said. "They want back in."
Kaito didn't flinch.
"Then let them come."
He closed his eyes, lowered Nightcleaver, and stood tall.
One by one, the echoes struck.
But Kaito didn't fight.
He embraced them.
Each one that touched him disappeared in a flash of light—merging back into him.
The fearful child.
The arrogant prince.
The vengeful blade.
He accepted all of them.
Even the part of him that once wanted the world to burn.
The last echo paused—a version of Kaito crowned in shadow, eyes glowing red.
"You feared me most," it said.
"And now I know why," Kaito whispered. "You were the strength I rejected. But now I'll wield you with purpose."
They merged.
Kaito's body pulsed with radiant power.
Nightcleaver transformed—its violet flame now streaked with gold.
The Sovereign tilted his head. "You've done the impossible."
"I've done what I must," Kaito said. "Now get off my throne."
The Sovereign laughed—a sound like crumbling time.
"Very well," he said, stepping down. "But thrones aren't given, boy. They're taken."
With that, he attacked.
Kaito met him midair.
The final battle… had begun.