The group stood inside the spatial corridor, watching the mist shift around them as they descended. It wasn’t like normal travel—it was weightless, seamless, as if they weren’t moving at all but still steadily getting closer to their destination.

  Ayase gnced at Watari. “It takes about five minutes per gate to descend. Since we’re going from the Tenth to the Fifth… you can do the math.”

  Watari scoffed. “So about twenty-five minutes of this, huh?”

  Ayase nodded. “More than enough time to fill you in on what the Captain didn’t tell you.”

  The atmosphere shifted slightly.

  Watari raised a brow. “Oh?”

  Ayase exhaled, pcing his hands in his pockets.

  “The Kegare.”

  Silence.

  Ayase’s voice was even, but there was an edge to it. “They’re… a lot like Kuroda, in a way. They want to break the natural order. But unlike Kuroda…”

  His gaze darkened.

  “They’re already here. In the Chūkan. This is their domain.”

  Watari’s smirk faded slightly.

  Kaito crossed his arms. “So… they’re like some sort of rebel faction?”

  Ayase nodded. “More or less. They believe the Gate Watchers are oppressors. That we’re keeping the bance of souls unnatural by separating the living from the dead.”

  Ren frowned. “And what? They want to just… merge the realms completely?”

  “Exactly.”

  A heavy pause.

  Watari exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I’ve been gone for two years—I probably could’ve helped with all this.”

  Ayase let out a dry chuckle. “Trust me—even if you were here, it wouldn’t have changed much. This faction’s been moving long before you ever stepped into the Chūkan.”

  Watari frowned. “So… they’re the biggest threat we’ve got?”

  Ayase’s expression darkened slightly. “Right now? Yes. And if you run into one…”

  His voice sharpened.

  “…That’s your cue to call for reinforcements.”

  Watari narrowed his eyes. “What, we’re not supposed to fight them?”

  Kaito threw his arm over Watari’s shoulder, grinning. “You dare tell my proud Jūmonban that he can’t fight? He lives for the fight!”

  Ayase, for the first time, didn’t respond with humor.

  He turned his gaze to them, his voice dead serious.

  “No.”

  His next words sent a chill through the room.

  “If you want to stay alive here—if you want your Tamashkii to stay aligned—you will avoid them at all costs.”

  A long pause.

  Then—

  “Especially at your guys’ skill level.”

  Ryuko scoffed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ayase turned toward them, his expression unreadable.

  “You may know resonance.”

  “You may be in tune with your forms.”

  “But that doesn’t make you a Chūkan warrior.”

  Silence.

  Then—he looked directly at Watari.

  “…Have you ever actually trained your swordpy?”

  Watari blinked. “Uh—”

  “Have you ever practiced our techniques? Our secret arts?”

  The air grew heavier.

  “Just because you’ve reached resonance, doesn’t mean you’re almighty.”

  His voice dropped lower, his eyes piercing through them.

  “…You are not Ancient.”

  Silence.

  Watari’s breath stilled.

  That hit.

  For the first time, the weight of the Chūkan truly sank in.

  This wasn’t just a mission.

  This wasn’t just another battle.

  This was something far bigger than any of them had faced before.

  The space around them began to shift.

  Watari exhaled, adjusting his coat. “Got it. Avoid them.”

  Ayase gave him a look. “No. Understand them.”

  The mist unraveled—revealing the Fifth Gate.

  And with it—the unknown. —CUT TO BLACK.