The mask continued to crack. More laughter erupted.
And then
The world turned black.
Here's the intense continuation of the story:
Kurohiro Awakens
The battlefield stood still, locked in silent terror. The sky churned, dyed in shades of deep crimson and abyssal black, as if the heavens themselves recoiled from the presence that had emerged. The shattered mask of Ravihiro fell piece by piece, revealing an expression twisted with madness, hatred, and something far more terrifying absolute emptiness.
Krishima, frozen in mid-air, felt his heart pound unnaturally. His instincts screamed at him, warning him of something… different. This was not Ravihiro anymore.
"Who… are you?" Krishima finally asked, gripping his sword tighter.
The entity that was once Ravihiro tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
Then he laughed.
A deep, distorted chuckle that echoed unnaturally across the battlefield. It wasn't the laugh of a warrior. It wasn't the laugh of a madman.
It was the laughter of something beyond human comprehension.
Then he spoke.
"Kurohiro."
The name carried weight—a name that should not exist, yet now did. A name that sent a ripple through the very fabric of reality.
Before Krishima could even process the words, Kurohiro moved.
No he vanished.
A sickening crack echoed as Kurohiro's hand pierced Krishima's core, fingers digging deep into flesh. Krishima gasped, his vision blurring, blood spilling from his mouth. His mind couldn't even register the speed.
Then—he was sent flying.
Kurohiro, with an expression of eerie calm, threw Krishima into the air like a ragdoll, his body spinning violently as he crashed through layers of energy, breaking through the very fabric of space.
Before Krishima could even react, before he could stabilize himself
BOOM!
The ground beneath Kurohiro shattered. He had already moved.
Like an abyssal specter, Kurohiro appeared above Krishima, upside-down in the air, his lifeless black-crimson eyes locking onto him.
Then—
FWOOSH!
Krishima barely managed to raise his sword in time as Kurohiro's hand turned into a shadowy blade, slashing downward with inhuman force. The air screamed. The sheer impact of the attack sent shockwaves across the battlefield, tearing through anything in its path.
Krishima countered.
Twisting his body mid-air, he swung his sword with all his might, aiming for Kurohiro's chest. This was his chance!
But then
Something happened.
The moment Krishima's blade touched Kurohiro's chest, a suffocating silence filled the air.
Krishima's body convulsed, his eyes widening in horror.
His sword stopped.
Not because Kurohiro blocked it.
Not because he dodged.
No because something unnatural had occurred.
The sword simply… refused to move.
A thick, overwhelming void-like force wrapped around Kurohiro's body, distorting reality itself. The very concept of cutting him seemed… erased.
Krishima's breathing became erratic. He could feel something creeping up his arm, a suffocating abyss crawling into his very soul.
He gritted his teeth.
"What… the hell are you?"
Kurohiro only smiled.
Then, with the slowest, most haunting motion, he reached out.
And touched Krishima's forehead.
A single whisper left Kurohiro's lips
"Shatter."
A bloodcurdling scream erupted as Krishima's body was engulfed in a crimson-black energy, his very essence trembling.
The screen of reality distorted.
And then. blackness.
To Be Continued…