The wind outside the Fifth Gate didn’t howl. It didn’t whisper.
It watched.
As if the air itself knew something terrifying was just beyond reach.
Watari stepped forward first.
Kaito followed at his side.
Takeya hesitated behind them, his fingers twitching, eyes scanning the narrowing path ahead. And that’s when it hit them.
The pressure.
Thick. Suffocating. Not just spiritual—tangible. Like a hand around their necks, warning them not to take another step.
Kaito froze.
“…You feel that?” he asked, voice barely above a breath.
Watari nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do.”
They stood at the edge of something vast and unnatural—an aura so dense it felt like stepping into a different pne entirely.
Watari gnced back at Takeya, face more serious than usual.
“Hey,” he said. “You don’t have to come any further. Whatever this is… Kaito and I can handle it.”
Takeya stared back, unsure, but he didn’t argue. Just clenched his fists.
Watari gave a faint nod. Then—
He and Kaito crossed the threshold.
And the world changed.
The moment they stepped into the open clearing before the Fifth Gate, the air tightened.
Above them—
A silhouette dangled like a puppet on invisible threads. Arms loose. Head tilted slightly. Her cloak fluttered with unnatural weightlessness.
Sylvetta.
Her corrupted Tamashkii threads shimmered in a twisted dance—Kugutsu no Omochi already active. They weren’t just defensive—they were alive. Sentient.
Below her—
Captain Kusanagi stood firm.
Blood streaked down his arm. His cloak sshed open at the side. But still, he moved. Still, he fought.
A thread whipped toward him—he spun, deflecting it.
Another from behind—he pivoted mid-spin, slicing it upward.
A third—
From above.
He shifted immediately, sword raised, severing it mid-air.
Watari and Kaito watched in awe as the captain dashed forward, a streak of momentum.
Straight for Sylvetta.
And that’s when she raised her hand.
One delicate gesture.
Snap.
Pressure dropped like a guillotine.
Watari and Kaito colpsed to their knees—Tamashkii fring uncontrolbly in their chests. Their breathing turned ragged, vision blurred.
Sylvetta giggled, voice ced with eerie joy.
“Ooooh? Looks like we have visitors…”
She twirled her hand. Threads shifted in the sky like a marionette’s dance.
“More puppets for me! Yay!”
Kusanagi gnced over his shoulder, mid-breath. Eyes wide.
“You kids… what are you doing here?!”
Watari gritted his teeth, forcing his knees to hold.
“Jiro was worried… said something felt off.”
He lifted his gaze. “Didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
Kusanagi sshed another incoming thread before turning back to them.
“She’s warping the battlefield,” he said. “Her form—Kugutsu no Omochi. It distorts Tamashkii flow. Weakens resonance. Even your instincts will betray you.”
His eyes flicked toward the edge of the clearing—toward Takeya.
“…It’s a good thing that boy stayed back. This pressure would’ve crushed him.”
Kaito groaned, bracing himself with one hand against the stone. “Tch… it’s crushing me.”
Sylvetta’s ughter rang out again, gleeful and unhinged.
“Are you done catching up? Helloooooo? It’s time for us to py again!”
Threads danced above her, stretching across the gate like a spiderweb.
Watari’s eyes didn’t leave her.
“…Have you found a way to beat her?” he asked Kusanagi.
Kusanagi shook his head, wiping blood from his brow.
“She disrupts movement, timing, pressure. Every time I think I’m ahead, I’m behind. Every attack feels like it’s coming a second too te.”
Watari finally pnted one foot down.
The other followed.
He stood.
Still shaking—but he stood.
“You’ve done enough,” he said quietly. “Let me take it from here.”
Kusanagi frowned. “Are you sure?”
Watari didn’t look back.
“It’s not about being sure.”
He reached for his Reibaku.
Tamashkii surged.
He drew it with one clean motion.
“It’s just something I have to do.”
Sylvetta leaned forward, her wide eyes gleaming. Her threads twitched with excitement.
“You’re finally standing…!”
She cpped her hands, childlike.
“Yay! Let pytime begin!”
Watari didn’t blink.
His bde pulsed.
The gate loomed.
And battle began.
