Takeru didn't see anything at first.
Just darkness.
Heavy.
Still.
Then sound came back.
"…Maki… I'm sorry…"
A pause.
A shaky breath.
"…This is the only way…"
Takeru's eyes flickered open.
Blurry.
Disoriented.
Stone floor.
Broken air.
A faint smell of cursed energy burning out.
He pushed himself up slowly.
And saw it.
Maki.
Kneeling.
Shoulders shaking.
And beside her—
Mai Zenin.
Still.
Silent.
Gone.
A weapon lay in her hands.
A perfectly forged blade—
unreal in its presence.
Takeru stared.
Processing.
"…What happened…"
Maki didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Her breathing was uneven—like the world itself had cracked inside her.
Takeru stood fully now.
Slow.
Careful.
He looked at the blade.
Then at Mai.
Then at Maki.
Silence stretched.
And then—
he spoke.
"…Hey, Maki?"
No response.
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
"…I don't know if you agree but I'm gonna kill them all."
A pause.
He glanced at the weapon again.
"…I mean I did hear Mai say to 'Kill them all' sooo…"
Silence.
Maki's shoulders trembled harder.
Not anger.
Not disbelief.
Just grief.
Pure.
Unfiltered.
Takeru exhaled slowly.
His voice dropped.
"…Understood."
He stepped closer—not intruding, not forcing anything—just present.
"…We continue."
Maki didn't look up.
But her hand slowly tightened around the Split Soul Katana.
The cursed energy in the air felt different now.
Sharper.
Colder.
Final.
Takeru looked down at Mai one last time.
No hesitation.
No theatrics.
Just acknowledgment.
"…She chose the outcome."
A beat.
"…We use it."
The silence that followed wasn't empty anymore.
It was resolve being forged in real time.