Total darkness.
Suffocating.
That liquid darkness again.
— Fwoob… Fwoob…
Bubbles slowly escaped from Kairo's mouth.
There was no oxygen.
There was nothing.
"Still here…"
He barely opened his eyes, weakly moving inside that black sea.
He couldn't tell where his body ended and where that abyss of ink began.
"I need to get out of here."
He moved his arms.
Nothing.
As if nailed in place.
As if something had wrapped around his ankles, dragging him deeper and deeper below.
— Fwoob… Fwoob…
The bubbles floated above him.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
Kairo struggled again.
But he wasn't rising.
He was sinking.
Then a thought crossed his mind.
The book.
After opening it… the black sea had swallowed him whole.
"This isn't a coincidence…"
The bubbles began to grow irregular.
His chest burned.
His lungs screamed for air.
No light.
No air.
No one.
Without Lyra.
Without Riven.
Without Aenna.
Without Hayashi.
His body began to slow down.
His vision blurred.
"I can't die like this…"
One final effort.
"Not after everything."
His eyelids closed.
The last bubble left his mouth.
"Not in this sea of ink."
And then—
He fell.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
—
"I see you've finally understood where you are."
The voice echoed everywhere.
Simple.
Elegant.
Cold.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5…
Kairo's nostrils suddenly opened.
Air.
He inhaled violently, coughing hard.
"Cough… Cough…!"
His eyes snapped open.
The table.
The white room.
Empty.
Without walls.
Without horizon.
And in front of him—
Mr. Ink.
Elegantly seated in his chair.
A lit cigar between his gloved fingers.
Watching him silently.
Slowly, he brought the cigar to his lips.
He inhaled.
The ember glowed brightly within the absolute whiteness of the room.
"You're still alive… my beloved protagonist."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Tell me…"
A pause.
"…what does it feel like to swim inside your own story?"
Kairo's eyes widened.
Swim… inside his own story?
His gaze immediately fell onto the book.
Closed.
Motionless.
And yet… it almost seemed alive.
He slowly opened his mouth.
"I really swam through ink… inside my own book…"
His throat dried up.
"Who the hell is this guy…?"
Mr. Ink gently caressed the book's cover.
A slow gesture.
Precise.
Almost affectionate.
"I know that's what you're wondering."
He took another drag from his cigar.
The smoke slowly escaped his lips, twisting into distorted shapes in the air.
"And no…"
A small smile curved across his face.
"…I am not a Remembrance."
Kairo slowly clenched his fists.
He had realized it immediately.
That man was different.
Too different.
His presence didn't feel like a creature.
It felt like…
an error.
"This…"
Kairo stepped forward.
"…isn't my story."
His gaze hardened.
"You're lying."
He pointed at the book, anger rising in his voice.
"Those memories don't belong to me."
Silence.
Mr. Ink remained motionless for several seconds.
Then—
"Interesting…"
He smiled.
And began to laugh.
Quietly.
Controlled.
"Ah… ahahaha…"
But the sound of his laughter slowly changed.
Twisted.
Elegant—
then alive.
Too alive.
"…so it's really true."
His eyes shone with excitement.
"They truly tried to change it."
A whisper.
Amused.
"Incredible…"
He slowly leaned toward Kairo.
"…they made you forget."
Kairo's stomach tightened.
A visceral sensation crawled up his spine.
Cold.
Instinctive.
Mr. Ink calmly leaned back into his chair.
He tossed the cigar behind him.
The glowing ember slowly spun through the air, leaving behind an arc of gray smoke within the white void.
But it never touched the ground.
It simply vanished.
"So this is a challenge, huh?"
The elegant expression on his face cracked for a moment.
"I knew she was spoiled…"
His eyes turned icy cold.
"…but I didn't think she'd be this rude."
He sighed.
"She should focus only on what belongs to her."
He rested a hand against his cheek, slightly tilting his head.
"Like those ridiculous threads she guards."
Kairo frowned.
He didn't understand.
But one thing was certain.
What he had seen…
belonged to him.
And yet those memories felt as though they were dissolving inside his head like smoke.
His palms slammed violently against the table.
— BAM —
"Enough with these games!"
His voice echoed throughout the room.
"I didn't ask for the past!"
He gritted his teeth.
The battle of Shibuya flashed through his mind.
The screams.
The ice.
The blood.
The corrupted police.
Lyra.
Riven.
Aenna.
Hayashi.
"Who is Azrael?!"
His anger overcame his fear.
"Either you answer me…"
He stepped forward.
"…or I'm leaving this place."
Mr. Ink slowly sighed.
A long sigh.
Almost tired.
Then he raised his eyes toward him.
Cold.
So cold that Kairo's heart skipped a beat.
"Tsk…"
He clicked his tongue.
"You really don't know your place, do you?"
The silence that followed became heavy.
Suffocating.
"This isn't a tea party."
Mr. Ink slightly leaned forward, staring at something behind Kairo.
"So I have to wonder…"
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"…what exactly are you doing inside my domain, my dear Keeper of the Eternal Thread?"
Kairo froze.
Slowly, he turned around.
White.
Only white.
Nothing.
"Oh my, Scribe…"
A sweet voice echoed through the room.
Childish.
Playful.
Yet filled with authority.
"You're not already causing too much damage, are you?"
Kairo's eyes widened.
That voice.
That hidden melancholy beneath the sweetness.
It was her.
Lethe.
The one who had pushed him into the void.
Mr. Ink glanced at the cane beside his chair.
He grabbed it with both gloved hands.
Then slowly stood up.
Lazy.
Elegant.
Tap.
Tap.
He struck the floor twice with the cane.
Beside Kairo, something slowly began to materialize.
First the legs.
Then the backrest.
Finally the cushion.
A chair.
"Well?"
Mr. Ink tilted his head.
"Are you going to keep acting mysterious, or are you going to sit down?"
Five seconds of silence passed.
Then a small laugh.
Childish.
Amused.
"Only because we have guests… I suppose I'll sit."
Kairo instantly turned toward the chair.
And his eyes widened.
Silver hair.
Moon-colored eyes.
A white dress.
An unreal elegance.
A moment ago, the chair had been empty.
Now Lethe was sitting there.
As if she had always existed.
She raised one hand, greeting Kairo with a sincere smile.
"Kairo… it's nice seeing you again so soon."
The boy instinctively raised his hand in response.
But the smile on his face was tense.
Nervous.
The visions the goddess had shown him immediately returned to his mind.
Riven being devoured by the dragon.
Aenna dying in his arms.
Lyra pierced by purple miasma.
His throat dried up.
His hands began trembling slightly.
A primal instinct.
Lethe kept smiling.
Then slowly turned toward Mr. Ink.
"So?"
Her tone became sharper.
"Have you finished causing disasters trying to reveal secrets a cute boy like him shouldn't know?"
Mr. Ink remained unfazed.
"Tsk. You started first."
He slowly caressed the book.
"I had my suspicions…"
His eyes narrowed.
"…now I have confirmation."
Lethe slightly tilted her head, pretending to look bored.
"I truly have no idea what you're talking about, Scribe."
Then she looked at Kairo and winked.
The boy swallowed nervously.
"What are you two talking about…?"
Mr. Ink scoffed.
"You see…"
He pointed at Lethe.
"…our dear Keeper of the Eternal Thread enjoys playing with things that don't belong to her."
His tone became accusatory.
"Like Quarium."
A pause.
"…and the memories of others."
Lethe sighed elegantly.
She gently snapped her fingers.
In front of them, a glowing thread slowly began to form.
Kairo jolted in surprise.
Instinctively, he started following every weave.
1…
2…
3…
4…
Then it accelerated.
The thread moved too fast.
It slowly began taking shape.
First a curved structure.
Then a handle.
Finally—
a teacup filled with steaming liquid.
Lethe took it in her hands, elegantly sipping from it.
Then she held it out toward Kairo.
"Kairos…"
She smiled softly.
"You've been stuck here with this obsessive man for quite a while."
She moved the cup closer to him.
"Drink."
Kairo swallowed nervously.
His gaze constantly shifted between Lethe and Mr. Ink.
Two completely different presences.
And yet both terrifying in their own way.
— What am I supposed to do…? — the boy thought as he slowly clenched his fist beneath the table.
— Which one of them is telling the truth…? —
His heart pounded violently.
Too violently.
But amidst all that mental chaos, one thing remained clear.
Time.
He didn't have time.
Kairo turned, staring at the endless white surrounding him.
No doors.
No exits.
Only that infinite void.
— I need to get out of here… now —.
He gritted his teeth.
— They're waiting for me —.
—
While Kairo remained trapped inside that surreal meeting beyond reality…
Tokyo continued sinking deeper into chaos.
The threat had not been stopped.
Screams still echoed throughout the ruined streets of Shibuya.
The sky above the city had grown darker and darker.
As if Oblivion itself was slowly devouring the world.
Hayashi, wrapped in Shiranui's crimson flames, continued fighting against Azrael and Beelzebub.
Every collision shook nearby buildings.
Every blow made the air tremble.
Further away—
Riven and Gremit desperately struggled to hold back Aenna.
Or rather…
what she was becoming.
Lyra lay on the ground nearby.
Wounded.
Covered in blood and shattered ice.
The corrupted police still wandered the city like puppets stripped of free will.
And amidst that disaster—
the Saito Corporation had finally begun to move.
—
— Guys… —
Kairo's thoughts echoed within the white silence of the room.
His fingers trembled slightly.
— Hold on… —
He slowly clenched his fist.
His eyes filled with determination.
— I'll return before it's too late —.
—
In front of Café Yuro—
A violent freezing gust swept across the devastated street.
The asphalt slowly began to freeze over.
White cracks spread across the ground.
Crystals of ice covered destroyed cars and shattered streetlights.
Even the air itself had become difficult to breathe.
At the center of that storm—
two figures stared at each other in silence.
Ready to fight until their final breath.
Riven lightly hopped backward.
Hands raised.
Heavy breathing.
Sweat dripped down his chin despite the freezing cold.
But his eyes never wavered.
"I'm bringing you back, Aen."
He slowly clenched his fists.
"The easy way…"
The ground beneath his feet cracked slightly.
"…or the hard way."
Inside his mind, Gremit's voice immediately echoed.
"Riven… now that I'm with you, do not fear her frost."
Reddish flames slowly began forming around his arms.
Weak at first.
Then increasingly intense.
"My flames will protect you."
Riven nervously exhaled.
"I seriously hope so."
He cracked his neck.
"Because otherwise we're both dying here."
In front of him—
Aenna slowly raised her head.
Her long hair swayed within the freezing wind.
But what truly stood out were her eyes.
Purple.
Mixed with an unnatural cobalt blue.
Cold.
Empty.
Skadi.
The Remembrance had almost completely fused with her.
The ice bow in her hands emitted a crystalline sound.
— CRRK —
"Aenna sleeps, human."
Her voice echoed coldly.
Emotionless.
"Now there is only…"
Ice slowly spread beneath her feet.
"…Skadi the Frozen."
For a single instant—
those eyes looked at Riven.
And he felt it.
A tiny part of Aenna was still there.
Trapped.
Suffocating.
But alive.
Riven's fingers trembled slightly.
"Damn it…"
He lowered his gaze for a moment.
Then slowly pulled his phone from his pocket.
The screen flickered.
A message appeared once again.
Subject: Aenna Yuki
Memory Drift — 70%
Oblivion Curse in Progress
Riven's breathing stopped for a second.
Seventy.
It had risen again.
Gremit immediately sensed it.
"Riven…"
The Remembrance's tone became more serious.
"…if she surpasses the limit…"
Riven clenched his jaw.
"I know."
The wind suddenly exploded around Aenna.
She slowly raised her bow toward him.
Around the arrow—
ice began compressing.
More and more.
More and more.
Until it emitted a sharp sound.
A lament.
As if the air itself were freezing to death.
Riven took a deep breath.
Then smiled bitterly.
"Perfect…"
He returned to his stance.
"Then come at me."
Gremit's flames erupted around his body.
Skadi's ice expanded in response.
Fire and frost.
Two monstrous Remembrances.
Two souls slowly consuming their own hosts.
And in the middle of it all—
two people who once called each other friends.