Manny stood on guard, sword in hand, while I remained weaponless—except for Jominara, who was both my shield and guide. Before the clash began, she reminded me, "My kind are versed in necromancy—the art of communicating with the dead, the dark arts themselves. It may help against Nazo, but your brother should not be part of this battle."
Then Manny lunged. His sword cut the air toward me with lethal intent. I twisted aside, caught his arm, and drove my fist into his ribs.
From behind, Nazo applauded mockingly. "Impressive—you can keep up with him."
I shouted back, "Release him! He's not yours to control!"
Nazo merely flicked his hand. Manny's eyes cleared for a moment, his consciousness snapping back—but his body didn't follow. His limbs swung against his will. He was fighting himself, his spirit resisting, but the spell held firm.
"Stop using him as a puppet!" I yelled, dodging another strike.
Nazo only smirked and sent Manny deeper into his thrall.
I weaved around my brother's attacks, searching for an opening. "Goshi," Jominara urged inside me, "use Tama no Fukujū—it will seal his movements until your stamina runs out."
The thought made me hesitate. "What if it kills him?"
"The choice is yours," she replied. "You decide whether his life force is bound or freed."
I clenched my teeth. It was risky, but I had no other plan. Jominara began siphoning energy, building the power necessary. All I needed to do was hold Manny off long enough.
Minutes dragged like hours. Nazo's gaze sharpened; he sensed something. His eyes, now branded with the full YinYang symbols, glowed as he activated his true form.
The world itself peeled apart. Walls cracked away like pages torn from a book. The illusion of Nova1c dissolved, revealing glimpses of Pansen beyond, as if reality itself were folding under his command.
Manny's body went limp, unconscious but still suspended midair. My mother stayed behind, watching from the shadows, while Nazo turned toward me. "Whatever power you've stolen, it will not be enough. What's mine will remain mine."
He swept his hands, trapping me inside a shifting bubble of force.
"Now, Goshi!" Jominara cried. "I've finished—Tama no Fukujū is ready!"
But Manny was already still. It was too late for restraint.
"Do we have anything more—something to break through him?" I asked desperately.
"Necro-Lightning," she answered. "Normally a shield, but we can invert it—turn it into a weapon."
I slammed my palm outward, bursting the bubble apart, and lightning surged through me. "Then let's make it count."
We needed a feint. I charged, forcing Nazo to parry, letting him throw me down. From the ground, I angled my hand—not at him, but at Manny.
Nazo's eyes widened. He hurled himself between us, intercepting the bolt. Lightning wrapped around him, and I split it apart into scattered strands. They coiled like serpents, engulfing his legs—blasting them into ruin. His body buckled as the rest of the lightning struck, scorching his flesh before his regenerative power began knitting him back together.
"Now!" Jominara pressed. "Tama no Fukujū!"
I streaked past him, raising my finger toward Manny—but Nazo was faster. With a blur of steel, he severed my hand clean from my wrist and kicked me into the ground. Pain exploded through me, white-hot.
I screamed, clutching the stump. Blood poured freely. Nazo advanced, blade raised for the final strike.
"Not yet," Jominara snapped, her voice fierce. She seized control, teleporting us away in a flash of purple light.
We landed at Ki Proce mountain. My body collapsed on the slope, blood streaming down the rock. Jominara sealed the wound, buying me precious moments of life. She dragged me before the elder Nekomata.
He studied me, gaze hard. "You return empty-handed, defeated, maimed. But such loss is proof of resolve."
With ritual care, he crafted me a replacement—a hand of fur and claw, necromantic and alive. As I flexed the new limb, he asked, "Do you still desire to surpass Nazo?"
My answer was immediate: "Yes. But only if Manny is safe."
"He is alive," the elder assured me. "Nazo does not waste resources. Just as he kidnapped children to forge soldiers, so too will he keep his son intact."
Jominara slipped from me, silent, while I steadied myself.
"How can I defeat the master of the YinYang?" I asked.
The elder's gaze pierced into mine. "The master is not the one who holds the spirit. The true master is the one who understands it—and restores balance."
I repeated those last words—restore balance—letting them burn into me.
He warned me that worse was yet to come. "Pansen is not whole. There exists a Reverse Pansen, its shadow reflection, born when balance is broken. Even united, the YinYang may remain unstable."
Confusion washed over me, but he continued. "Reverse Pansen is the Yin to your Yang—the dark underside. And you, Goshi, are untrained. Without discipline, you will fall."
He listed the abilities of the YinYang master: overwhelming strength, gravity's dominion, aura expansion, necromancy, Soul Charge, and Daisan'nome—the Final Eye.
It was overwhelming, but one truth cut deeper than fear: Manny was still in Nazo's hands, and my allies remained unaware of what was coming.
"You are the only one who can stand against him," the elder said.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Because you are both inside and outside. Not of this land, yet bound to its fate. You are the balance we need."
He placed a talisman on the table, its gem carved with a cat's eye that pulsed with raw power. I could feel it from across the room.
I reached out, hand trembling, and lifted it. "What is this?"
"The chamber of the mindless Nekomata," the elder answered.
I exhaled slowly, clutching it tight. "Then I'll do it."