The air was thick—almost solid. Not because of the weather or the natural atmosphere of the spectral forest they had settled in, but because of the shared feeling that something inevitable was approaching. The sky above, cloaked in a grayish-violet hue, seemed to be holding its breath with them.
Ryouhei sat against the dry trunk of a tree that cast no shadow, his back hunched and hands buried in the damp soil. Beside him, Sera stared into the black branches that tangled like the fingers of a giant corpse. They didn't speak. Not yet.
"When did silence become so loud?" Ryouhei asked, not looking at her.
Sera didn't respond right away. Instead, she turned slightly to glance at him. Her profile had invisible cracks, like porcelain on the verge of shattering.
"When we stopped pretending we were fine," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.
A bird with no eyes screeched in the distance. The sound echoed like a distant alarm.
They had arrived in that place with a decision in mind, but something in the atmosphere urged them to pause. As if the world itself acknowledged that the next step would be irreversible. The space between them and the formless figure of the Man Without a Shadow wasn't just geographic—it was emotional, existential. The enemy wasn't just him… it was what facing him meant.
"I've been thinking," Sera said, sitting cross-legged on a rock covered in purple moss. "If we win… what will be left of us?"
Ryouhei slowly lifted his head. His eyes didn't shine like before. There was no rage, no fear. Only a terrible calm—like the sea before a storm.
"I don't know. But if we don't try, there won't be anything left."
The pause broke with a long exhale—not from the forest, but from Ryouhei.
"I saw things, Sera. Things I don't understand. Fragments, echoes… futures I'm not even sure are mine anymore, or if they chose me to be seen. I'm starting to feel that the more I move forward, the less I know who I am."
"I don't know either," she admitted, lowering her head. "But if you're going to lose yourself, I'd rather do it by your side."
The words hung in the air—heavy, palpable. There was no kiss, no physical contact. Only a shared silence that screamed louder than any promise.
In front of them, a path opened between twisted roots and bleeding mist. It was the antechamber of the end. They didn't know if they'd survive. They only knew they couldn't turn back.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice more human than any power he'd gained.
"Only if you are."
And then they walked. Side by side. Beneath a sky without hope. Toward the place where the abyss waited with open arms.