The mist curled through the air like smoke.

  Then—

  A shift.

  A distortion in the space above the arena.

  And the Shingan appeared.

  He didn’t fall.

  Didn’t descend.

  He simply… was.

  His robes whispered against the sand as he walked.

  Slow.

  Measured.

  Around him—silence.

  Except for the sound of heaving.

  Blood stained the ground.

  Bodies sprawled across the arena floor—some conscious, some not.

  But only one stood tall.

  The Shingan stepped to his seat. Sat. Folded one leg over the other.

  A small smirk tugged at his lips.

  “…As expected.”

  His eyes fixed on the only figure left standing.

  “I knew you’d be the st one. But to think you wouldn’t even have a scratch on you…”

  A pause.

  “Truly remarkable.”

  The silver-haired figure stood motionless. Calm. Unbothered.

  Subaru raised his head slightly.

  “Of course, my lord,” he said. “You’re the one who made me this powerful. To receive a scratch would be a disgrace to your teachings.”

  The Shingan smiled.

  Then—he raised a single hand. A fsh of Tamashkii light carved itself into Subaru’s Shinsei Gai—a faint, glowing 2 only visible to those with trained eyes.

  “This number,” the Shingan said, “marks you as my right hand. Not just for your strength today… but for the strength I’ve always known you held.”

  Subaru bowed. “An honor I’ll bear with pride.”

  A beat.

  “If I may, though… why not number one?”

  The Shingan chuckled softly.

  “If anyone but YuYu got number one, he’d likely try to kill at least two of you out of spite. And frankly…”

  He shrugged.

  “You’ve seen what happens when he gets bored. It’s just not worth the trouble.”

  Subaru nodded. “Understood. The number means little to me. I’m simply here to serve.”

  The Shingan gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

  Subaru stepped away.

  Another figure approached.

  Silent. Controlled.

  Daisuke.

  The Shingan didn’t hesitate.

  “Also expected. Daisuke… continue serving me well.”

  “With pleasure my lord,” Daisuke said.

  A soft fre of Tamashkii.

  Four.

  Daisuke bowed and stepped back.

  Then—

  Cough.

  Blood hit the arena floor.

  Kenzo dragged himself forward, one hand on his ribs. He exhaled sharply, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Still standing,” he muttered. “And it looks like I wasn’t even the st to get up.”

  The Shingan smirked. “Of course, Kenzo. You’ll keep the number you’ve always had.”

  Three.

  Kenzo gave a half-hearted bow. “Tch. I need a nap.”

  Then he stumbled back.

  And then—

  Three bdes. Three figures.

  YuYu, Uta, and Toshiro rose—barely.

  Breathing heavy. Bloodied.

  But not done.

  They looked at each other.

  Then—

  They lunged.

  All at once.

  But before they could csh—

  CLANG.

  One bde dropped in from above.

  Subaru’s Reibaku.

  It stopped all three of their strikes in a single instant—an elegant sweep that disarmed all of them.

  Their weapons hit the ground.

  He stepped forward, bde aimed at their throats.

  “My next strike,” he said quietly, “will not stop short like the others.”

  They froze.

  Then—the Shingan ughed.

  “It is fine, Subaru. I don’t think they realized I had returned.”

  The three looked up.

  Eyes wide.

  Then—

  Uta bowed her head. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  Toshiro scratched the back of his head. “My lord, it’s YuYu’s fault.”

  YuYu smirked. “My lord… please allow me to kill Toshiro.”

  The Shingan exhaled. “You’ve all fought well. But now is the time for rest. Recuperation.”

  He raised his hand again.

  “Uta. Step forward.”

  She did, posture perfect.

  Five.

  She bowed without a word and returned to her spot.

  “Toshiro.”

  He huffed and stepped forward, still wincing.

  Six.

  “Guess that makes YuYu number seven—” Toshiro muttered.

  Uta didn’t even look at him.

  “There are only six of us, idiot.”

  Toshiro blinked. “…Oh.”

  Then—

  A grin from YuYu.

  The Shingan raised his hand one st time.

  One.

  The number fred into YuYu’s Shinsei Gai.

  Toshiro stared.

  “…Oh, come on.”

  Uta smirked. “Imbecile.”

  YuYu gave a long, dramatic stretch. “Feels good to be the king.”

  The Shingan’s voice cut through the moment.

  “With the ranks assigned… we move to the next phase.”

  He stood, the mist coiling at his feet.

  “I trust you all still have your underlings. Because in four days…”

  A pulse of pressure filled the arena.

  “…We strike the Fifth Gate.”

  CUT TO BLACK.