Akitsu Shouga opened his eyes.

  There was no pain.

  No blood.

  No body.

  He stood barefoot on a small red island, its soil the color of dried petals. In the center grew a single cherry blossom tree, its bark dark and twisted, its branches heavy with crimson flowers that never fell—yet somehow always shed.

  Around the island stretched an endless black void, not air, not water—yet beneath his feet, beyond the island’s edge, lay black water, perfectly still, reflecting nothing.

  Floating upon it were eighty-five cherry blossom petals, drifting slowly, endlessly, never touching one another.

  And farther out—

  Red doors.

  Dozens. Maybe hundreds. No frames. No walls. Just doors standing upright on nothing, hovering slightly above the black water, surrounding the island in a loose, uneven ring.

  “Ah,” a voice said cheerfully. “You’re finally awake.”

  Akitsu turned.

  On the right side of the island sat a humanoid demon, legs crossed, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands. His skin was ash-gray, eyes glowing faintly crimson, horns curved backward like polished obsidian. He looked… amused.

  “You know,” the demon continued, grinning, “you finally took action after two whole years. I was starting to think you’d just rot quietly.”

  Akitsu stared at him without expression.

  “I almost died of boredom,” the demon added. “Do you have any idea how dull eternity is without entertainment?”

  Akitsu exhaled slowly. “It would be a good thing if you died.”

  The demon blinked—then burst into laughter.

  “Oh, I like that one,” he said, clapping once. “Still sharp. Still miserable.”

  Akitsu turned away. “We’re not friends.”

  “Of course not,” the demon said easily. “And we never will be.”

  Akitsu stepped toward the island’s edge.

  “That’s fine,” the demon went on. “You can hate me. Curse me. Ignore me.” He leaned back, resting on his palms. “You still can’t escape.”

  Akitsu didn’t respond.

  He stepped into the black water.

  It didn’t ripple. It didn’t soak him. It felt neither cold nor warm.

  He walked toward the nearest red door.

  “Good luck,” the demon said lightly. “Try not to disappoint me.”

  Akitsu reached out and opened the door.

  The world fell silent.

  First Door

  Akitsu blinked.

  He was back in the alley near the aqueduct district, blood still staining his waiter uniform. The night air smelled of damp stone and smoke.

  Footsteps echoed.

  “Hey,” a voice said. “You lost?”

  Three criminals stepped into view, weapons drawn.

  Akitsu frowned.

  “…Already?” he muttered.

  They attacked.

  Akitsu moved faster this time—cleaner. He disarmed one, killed another, dodged a blade meant for his spine.

  Then—

  A presence.

  “You’re late,” Varkhan Lucem said calmly, stepping from the shadows.

  Akitsu drew his daggers. “This ends now.”

  Varkhan smiled faintly. “You say that every time.”

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  They clashed.

  Akitsu lunged—

  Pain exploded through his chest.

  Varkhan’s blade pierced precisely between ribs, angling upward.

  “You lean too far forward when you strike,” Varkhan said softly.

  Akitsu collapsed.

  Darkness.

  Second Door

  The red island.

  The demon clapped slowly. “Ohhh, that was quick.”

  Akitsu ignored him and opened another door.

  This time, Akitsu stood inside the hideout, bodies already littering the floor. Cult members screamed as he cut them down.

  “Faster,” he whispered to himself.

  Varkhan emerged.

  “You changed the order,” Varkhan noted. “Interesting.”

  Akitsu unsheathed Joyeuse.

  The blade shimmered faintly, its ornate gold-inlaid hilt and straight, radiant steel gleaming like captured daylight.

  Varkhan narrowed his eyes. “So you brought a relic.”

  Akitsu swung.

  Light exploded outward—blinding, searing.

  Varkhan staggered back, snarling. “So that’s its trick.”

  Akitsu pressed the advantage—

  Too close.

  Varkhan vanished from his sight and reappeared at his side.

  “Your shoulder,” Varkhan said calmly. “You overcommit.”

  His blade severed Akitsu’s arm.

  Akitsu screamed—

  —and died seconds later from a precise cut to the neck.

  Third Door

  The demon leaned closer. “You almost had him that time.”

  Akitsu didn’t look at him.

  This time, Akitsu opened his eyes to royal knights storming the hideout.

  Chaos.

  “Target sighted!” a knight shouted.

  Akitsu moved through the confusion, killing criminals, dodging blades.

  Varkhan appeared behind him.

  “You rely too much on momentum,” Varkhan whispered.

  A blade pierced Akitsu’s spine.

  Paralysis.

  Varkhan stepped around him. “You should have retreated.”

  The killing blow followed.

  Fourth Door

  The demon was smiling wider now. “Four deaths. Consistent. Predictable.”

  Akitsu finally looked at him. “You enjoying this?”

  “Immensely.”

  Akitsu opened another door.

  This time—

  Silence.

  Akitsu stood alone with Varkhan in the center of the hideout. No interruptions.

  “No words?” Varkhan asked.

  Akitsu drew Joyeuse and his remaining dagger.

  They circled.

  “You’re improving,” Varkhan said. “But you hesitate.”

  “I don’t fear death,” Akitsu replied.

  “That’s your weakness,” Varkhan said.

  They struck—

  Steel flashed—

  Joyeuse’s light flared—

  Varkhan’s blade shattered—

  Akitsu felt hope—

  Then—

  Cold.

  A line across his neck.

  Varkhan exhaled slowly. “You ignore defense when you believe you’ve won.”

  Akitsu fell.

  Darkness.

  Akitsu stood once more on the red island.

  Eighty-nine petals drifted.

  The demon rose to his feet, stretching. “Well?”

  Akitsu stared at the doors.

  “…Again,” he said quietly.

  The demon’s grin widened.

  “Now you’re learning.”