...
Ijichi leaned his weight against the hood of his parked sedan, clinging to the deep shadows of the evacuated street exactly as Ren had ordered.
The tablet in his hands vibrated violently. Its harsh red glare painted his pale, sweating face with blinking SIGNAL LOST warnings. Distant sirens wailed, but the street itself was dead quiet.
A bead of sweat stung his eye. He hastily scrubbed his forehead with a trembling sleeve.
Then, a sonic boom shattered the silence.
A gale-force shockwave ripped down the asphalt. Trash cans launched into the air. A steel stop sign shrieked as it was torn completely off its hinges. Ijichi dove behind the car, throwing his arms over his head as a spray of loose gravel machine-gunned against the metal doors. The ground violently bucked beneath his shoes.
A sickening crunch of pulverized street echoed just inches from the front bumper.
Ijichi's tablet slipped from his numb fingers, the screen splintering against the pavement. A thick cloud of dust and debris choked the air.
Slowly, the grit began to settle. A tall silhouette cut through the haze.
Maki Zen'in stood dead center in a crater of shattered asphalt. Frost and highway soot stained the frayed edges of her jacket, her dark green hair whipping wildly in the residual wind.
She stepped out of the smoking crater. The heavy wood of her naginata tapped sharply against the broken asphalt. Her breath plumed in the cold air. Her eyes locked onto the manager hiding behind the car.
"Ijichi," Maki said. Her voice was dangerously calm, carrying a sharp edge that cut right through the ringing in his ears. "Tell me exactly what I'm looking at. Fast."
Ijichi scrambled to his feet, dusting off his knees. He opened his mouth, pointing a trembling finger toward the massive black curtain towering over Shibuya. "Maki-san—it's. The station—"
A sharp, buzzing ringtone cut him off.
Ijichi flinched. He patted his suit jacket, quickly pulling out his cell phone. The screen glowed in the dark street, showing a caller ID.
"It's Nitta," he gasped, his eyes widening. "She must have crossed the veil!"
Maki closed the distance in two long strides. She snatched the phone from his hand and tapped the speaker button, holding it flat between them.
"Report," Maki ordered.
Static crackled through the speaker. When Akari Nitta spoke, her voice was clipped, steady, and strictly professional.
"This is Nitta," she reported. "I am safely outside the barrier. Medical assistance is required at my coordinates, but that is secondary. I need to relay critical intel to command."
"We are listening, Nitta-san," Ijichi said, leaning closer. "What is the situation inside?"
"The worst-case scenario," Nitta stated. "Satoru Gojo is sealed."
Ijichi's knees buckled. He grabbed the side mirror of the sedan to keep from collapsing, his skin turning the color of wet ash.
Maki stared at the glowing screen. The only sound in the street was the wind whipping past the parked cars.
A thick vein pulsed at the edge of her jaw. She slowly tightened her grip on her naginata. The solid oak shaft let out a sharp, cracking groan under the crushing pressure of her bare hands.
"Confirmed?" Maki asked, her voice dropping an octave.
"Confirmed," Nitta replied without hesitation. "The enemy deployed a Special Grade cursed object. Gojo-san is trapped, and the curses have locked down the underground levels. A curse user are hunting auxiliary managers to cut our comms. I took a blade to my side, but Kugisaki-san secured the area and escorted me to the perimeter."
"Where is Nobara now?"
"She returned to the combat zone," Nitta answered. "She went back inside the veil to act as vanguard for Nanami-san and Fushiguro-kun. They are pushing down to the subway lines to locate the seal."
"Understood," Maki said. She tossed the phone back to Ijichi. "Call Shoko. Get Nitta patched up."
Ijichi fumbled the catch, hugging the phone to his chest. "Maki-san! Where are you going?!"
Maki rolled her shoulders. She turned her back to him, her boots grinding over the pulverized street as she marched straight toward the towering black dome.
...
Inside the Domain Expansion.
Hovering above the white sand, Dagon stared at the sky where his domain had just torn open and snapped shut.
His multiple eyes darted between the teenager on the beach and the tall, scarred man balancing effortlessly on the ocean's surface.
Dagon strained to read their cursed energy, but found absolutely nothing. To his domain, neither registered as living creatures; they felt like inert rocks, like empty space.
A low rumble of frustration vibrated in the curse's chest.
A few yards away, blood soaked into the pristine sand. Megumi dropped to one knee, gasping for air.
Black, liquid shadows swirled wildly around his boots, desperately fighting back the bright beach. His shaking hands remained locked in a tight shadow puppet mudra.
Bleeding from his chin, he pushed every last drop of his energy into keeping his incomplete domain open—the only thing stopping Dagon's endless swarm of flesh-eating fish from stripping them to the bone.
Acting as a shield, Nanami stood directly in front of him. His tailored suit was shredded, and his chest heaved as he maintained a white-knuckled grip on his wrapped cleaver.
Beside them stood Naobito, his right arm hanging limp and bleeding heavily. The drunken glaze had completely vanished from the old man's eyes.
Ignoring the teenager entirely, his wide, unblinking stare locked onto the muscular man with the scarred lip.
Naobito staggered forward. "Toji," he rasped over the roar of the crashing waves.
Down on the shoreline, Ren spat a mouthful of wet sand and blood. He wiped his mouth, glaring at the man standing on the water.
"Cheap shot." Ren wiped his mouth, glaring "Who attacks from behind?"
Toji didn't so much as blink. His pitch-black eyes were completely hollow, an abyss devoid of reason or sanity. The resurrected sorcerer-killer stood perfectly balanced on the rolling ocean.
Ren let out a heavy sigh, rolling his shoulders to shake off the impact. "Right. The strong, silent zombie type. Cool. Great talk."