The air was thick with tension. The ground beneath them still vibrated from the aftershock of Kuroda’s ascension.

  But he wasn’t tense.

  He wasn’t defensive.

  He was rexed.

  Kuroda exhaled, stretching his arms out slightly before cracking his neck. Then, with a smirk, he stepped forward.

  “You lot do love your weapons, don’t you?”

  His voice was calm, almost amused.

  He lifted his palm slightly, and in an instant—a sword materialized in his grip.

  It was sleek, polished, but more than anything, it radiated a controlled, unnatural energy.

  “I’ve heard that in the Chūkan, everyone wields Reibakus. That each weapon is a reflection of the soul.”

  He spun the sword in his fingers, studying it zily.

  “But the cores I created? No, they could never truly resonate. They merely mimicked the concept. The bdes you all wield… they are nothing more than broken imitations.”

  His gaze turned toward Ren.

  “You… it seems you and that boy were the closest to achieving perfection.”

  Ren’s fingers clenched around Tsukuyomi.

  A deep, cold fury burned in his gaze, but he said nothing.

  Kuroda smirked and tightened his grip.

  The energy around his own bde darkened, warping as if reality itself recoiled from its existence.

  “But even you… you could never reach this level.”

  And then—

  Watari spoke.

  “You think that’s a Reibaku?”

  Kuroda’s smirk twitched.

  Slowly, his golden eyes flickered toward Watari, who stepped forward, eyes unwavering.

  “I’ve been to the Chūkan.”

  Watari’s voice was calm but sharp. Deadly.

  “I’ve seen a real one before. And trust me…”

  Lightning crackled around his feet.

  “That might be close, but it’s still just an imitation.”

  Kuroda’s smirk vanished.

  His fingers tightened around the hilt of his weapon.

  His aura fred just slightly, a flicker of irritation burning in his expression.

  “Boy… I truly wish you were never born.”

  Watari didn’t hesitate.

  “I’m starting to think I was born specifically to stop you.”

  BOOM.

  “Come forth—Takemikazuchi!”

  A deafening CRACK of thunder shook the battlefield as the massive ethereal form surged behind Watari, its presence undeniable.

  The sheer weight of its power lit up the entire skyline.

  Watari lunged.

  The first true csh began.

  Takemikazuchi’s energy surged around Watari as he swung his bde down in a single devastating arc—a lightning-infused, full-powered strike meant to split the battlefield in two.

  Kuroda lifted his sword with one hand.

  CLANG.

  The impact split the pavement beneath them.

  Lightning shredded the air, arcing wildly through the sky.

  For a moment, it seemed like Watari had actually put some weight behind it.

  But then—

  Shffft!

  Watari was gone.

  Sent flying backward like a ragdoll.

  He crashed through the ruined remains of a skyscraper, debris caving in around him.

  Kuroda sighed, shaking his head.

  “Tch. Disappointing.”

  He lifted his gaze to the rest of the squad.

  “You all like to name your moves, don’t you?”

  He rolled his shoulders.

  “Fine. Allow me to indulge.”

  Then—

  He attacked.

  “Phantom Bde.”

  Kuroda moved like a phantom, warping reality itself with his swordpy.

  He sshed forward.

  The air in front of him split into an “X” shape—a pure energy cut that detached from his bde, flying toward them.

  Akira dodged left—but the X vanished, then reappeared behind him.

  SLASH.

  A deep, searing cut opened along his side, blood spraying.

  Akira gritted his teeth, gripping Raikou.

  “Damn it—”

  Kuroda dropped his sword.

  The second it touched the ground, it sank into thin air.

  Akira’s eyes widened.

  “Behind you!”

  Too te.

  The bde phased into existence right behind Akira—sshing deep into his back before warping back into Kuroda’s palm.

  Ryuko swung Erebus—only for the entire shadow to be sliced clean in half before it could reach.

  Yumi leapt into the air—only for Kuroda to throw his sword forward, making it disappear—then reappear straight above her, smming her down like a meteor.

  Blood spttered across the concrete.

  Kuroda didn’t let up.

  Ren swung Tsukuyomi—only for Kuroda to let the bde pass through his body like an illusion.

  “You thought that would work?”

  A clean ssh across Ren’s stomach.

  Ryuko tried to summon shadow soldiers—

  Kuroda’s sword split the entire summoning portal in half.

  Yumi lunged—

  He grabbed her by the wrist mid-air and hurled her through a building.

  Akira tried to counter with lightning—

  Kuroda simply raised his hand and redirected the flow of the electricity to strike Ryuko instead.

  Kuroda was toying with them.

  He wasn’t just winning.

  He was demonstrating superiority.

  Blood stained the battlefield.

  And then—

  He ended it.

  Kuroda stepped forward, exhaling slowly.

  His golden eyes gleamed with amusement.

  “Enough pying around.”

  The squad struggled to their feet.

  They weren’t broken.

  Not yet.

  And then—

  The cuts came.

  A single movement.

  A flick of his wrist.

  SHING.

  A blinding arc of golden light.

  Their bracelets—gone.

  Ren’s breath hitched.

  Akira’s eyes widened.

  Yumi’s fingers twitched in horror.

  Kuroda smirked.

  Then, with a casual flick—

  He sshed through all of their cubes.

  “Now you are all nothing.”

  The battlefield fell silent.

  Their forms were gone.

  They stood, staring at their shattered power.

  Ren clenched his fists, his breath uneven.

  Akira’s entire body trembled.

  Yumi’s shoulders shook, her teeth digging into her lips.

  For the first time since they had arrived—since they had begun fighting—

  There was no resistance left in their eyes.

  Only fear.