The rain had returned.
But it didn't fall.
It hovered—each drop frozen mid-air like the world had paused to listen.
To her.
The Red Widow stood inches from Kai. No wind. No sound. Just two beings carved from broken truths staring into one another's fracture.
Kai's hands were still bleeding.
Not from wounds.
From memory.
The past was peeling through his skin like it wanted out.
"You were the lock," the Widow said, voice like static over an old intercom.
"And you," Kai rasped, "were never supposed to wake."
A flicker in her eye. Not rage. Not sorrow. Something far older.
"I didn't choose to."
Behind them, the underground shuddered. Pipes groaned. Shadows bent in directions light couldn't explain.
Meanwhile – Shin
He dreamed.
Of fire.
Of his mother's hands dragging him from rubble.
Of the day he saw his father die.
And of a crimson blade whispering: "Let me finish what they started."
Shin jolted awake.
Ryuu stood nearby, but something was off.
His grin wasn't fake—but it was thinner than usual.
"You hear it?" Ryuu asked.
Shin nodded.
A hum. A vibration. Like the city itself was building toward something violent.
"They're converging," Ryuu said. "Kai and the Widow. And when they meet—"
"They already did," Shin interrupted.
Ryuu looked at him sharply. "What?"
"The sword told me."
Ryuu went still.
Then:
"Then we're out of time."
Cut Back – Kai
She raised her hand.
Not in threat. Not in kindness.
Just raised it.
Kai didn't move.
The lights above them exploded—every bulb in the hub rupturing like nerves snapping under pressure.
Still, silence.
Until she whispered:
"The world died the moment you screamed."
Kai's pupils shrank.
He remembered.
The scream.
The chains.
The cathedral.
The betrayal.
He dropped to one knee—not from weakness. From realization.
"It wasn't them who sealed you," he said. "It was me."
And the Widow smiled.
Not human. Not cruel.
Inevitable.
The past was a circle, and they were standing at its center.
Elsewhere – Unseen Eyes
A new figure stirred in the void.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not Kai. Not Shin. Not Ryuu. Not the Widow.
Someone else.
"They've begun unraveling," it whispered.
"Time to sever the thread."