The first blow shook the realm.
Kaito's blade—now pulsing with merged memories—met the Sovereign's shadowsteel weapon in a blast of raw force that cracked the floating platforms around them. Spectral winds howled, carrying fragments of forgotten timelines into the air.
"Not bad," the Sovereign said, eyes glowing behind his mask. "But power alone won't win."
Kaito didn't answer.
He was already moving.
The fight blurred into a storm of strikes and parries. Their blades moved like lightning—one bright, one dark—cutting through the very space they stood in. Each clash ripped apart possibilities—realities where Kaito failed, where he fell, where he never rose again.
But he kept fighting.
Because now… he remembered why.
Not just for revenge.
Not just for glory.
But for the truth of who he was.
And who he could still become.
"You are still incomplete," the Sovereign sneered. "You lack the cruelty it takes to rule!"
Kaito smirked. "No. I just choose not to rule like you."
He flipped over the Sovereign, landed behind him, and drove Nightcleaver forward. The Sovereign spun—barely deflecting. But the golden flare from Kaito's blade seared through his cloak, exposing a pulse of light underneath.
"You're hiding something," Kaito said. "What are you really?"
The Sovereign stepped back, chest heaving. "I am… what was left of you. The part that *never* forgave the world."
Kaito paused.
Realization hit.
"You're… my vengeance."
The Sovereign's body rippled—his mask cracking. Underneath, Kaito saw his own face, twisted by pain and fury.
"Without me," the Sovereign growled, "you would have broken."
"Maybe," Kaito admitted. "But now I don't need to break. I need to forgive."
He raised Nightcleaver high. The blade absorbed every echo around him—memories, battles, regrets—and unleashed a final radiant slash.
The Sovereign screamed as light pierced his chest.
"Let it go," Kaito whispered. "It's time."
The Sovereign fell to his knees, fading into mist.
And Kaito stood alone—on the Throne of Echoes.
Whole.
At last.