The sun never rose over the Black Hollow.
Even at its brightest, the sky above remained locked in a murky twilight — as though the land itself refused light. Squad Umbra had reached the outskirts of the Hollow, guided by whispers, visions, and the now-shattered black shard. Kaizen led them, his gaze sharp, steps unwavering.
But something about the air here was different.
It was alive.
Breathing.
Waiting.
Liora whispered, "This place… it's ancient. Older than our maps. Older than our memory."
Ayaka's hand brushed against Kaizen's. He didn't look at her, but the silent touch anchored them both. Each had felt the same dreams. The same voice pulling them forward.
A broken gate welcomed them — more like a jaw, cracked open. Beyond it stood ruins, yet something about them was pristine… as if untouched by time, yet devastated by something else.
And then they saw him.
A man.
Alone.
Standing at the center of the stone courtyard, back turned, pale white hair fluttering in the windless air.
He wore a cloak of shadow — not cloth, but living shadow, dripping and curling off his shoulders like smoke. His presence was wrong. Not evil… not monstrous…
Just wrong.
Kaizen stepped forward, and the man turned slightly — just enough for one eye to be seen.
It was void. Not black — black had substance.
This had none.
The world seemed to quiet.
Even breath felt forbidden.
"You're Nerovar," Kaizen said, voice steady.
The man didn't answer.
Ayaka gasped. "He has… no aura. No pulse."
Captain Vexar, standing far behind, muttered, "Impossible. Everything has a pulse."
Kaizen took another step. His body screamed to stop, but his blood pulled him forward — as if it recognized the man ahead.
And then Nerovar finally spoke.
A voice like silence made audible.
> "You are not ready."
Kaizen clenched his fists. "Then why show yourself?"
Nerovar slowly turned. Fully now.
His face was calm. Almost regal. But inhumanly still — like a statue carved from nightmares. His eyes... endless. Reflecting no light, no soul.
> "Because fate has threads, Kaizen Ryouma. And yours and mine are woven from the same corpse."
The sky cracked. Thunder roared.
Everyone drew their weapons, but Kaizen raised a hand. "Don't."
He looked into Nerovar's eyes and saw a thousand deaths — not of others, but of himself.
Different versions.
All failed.
All dead.
One burned alive by his own power.
Another shattered by a mirror made of veins.
Another — kneeling before Nerovar, begging for mercy.
Kaizen's knees buckled, but he held on.
"Why… me?" he asked, his voice barely a breath.
Nerovar stepped forward.
> "Because I was the first Veinborn."
The air collapsed inward for a second.
Ayaka staggered back, choking.
Captain Vexar fell to a knee.
Even the ground moaned.
Kaizen stood frozen.
"You… what?"
Nerovar's expression didn't change.
> "You are not my enemy yet, Kaizen. But when your flame burns too brightly… it will devour everything you love. Then you will come to me — not as a warrior…"
He leaned close, whispering words that chilled Kaizen's spine.
> "…but as an heir."
Kaizen swung his blade.
In a blur, a strike that could tear through solid steel.
But it passed through Nerovar.
No resistance. No contact.
Just mist.
He was gone.
Only his whisper remained.
> "Chapter fifty. You have seen the face of your future. Now burn, Kaizen. Burn the world until only I remain."
And with that, silence returned.
Only Kaizen stood there, breath heavy, heart drowning in prophecy.