Shadow trilogy

The pain was like a burning blade twisting inside his left eye. Takeru dropped to his knees as the shadow began pouring out of his red eye—thick black smoke taking the shape of a giant hand with claws.

Hikari jumped back, her laughter trembling with excitement:

— "Finally! It's coming out!"

But Kazuya didn't look pleased. His seven eyes spun rapidly before they all locked onto a single point in the darkness behind Takeru.

— "No... this isn't Kuroyami."

The shadow leaking from Takeru's eye wasn't the same entity they had faced before. It was larger, older, its form constantly shifting—as if trying to recall its true appearance. A voice like distant thunder echoed from it:

"Who... wakes me?"

Hikari's laughter died instantly.

— "This… this isn't one of us. This is something older."

Kazuya stepped forward, his clothes fluttering despite the absence of wind.

— "I didn't wake you, Forgotten One. My servant merely took what he shouldn't have."

The massive shadow slowly circled around Takeru, who trembled on the ground, black blood leaking from his eye and nose.

"This vessel… carries the scent of ancient blood."

Takeru tried to speak, but his tongue was swollen. Something was crawling up his throat.

And then—he vomited.

Thick black liquid spilled onto the stone floor and formed words.

"Seek the lost blade beneath the Mountain of Bones."

Hikari screamed suddenly:

— "Don't read it! It's a trap!"

But it was too late. Kazuya had already read the words. His seven eyes widened in horror.

— "No... This is impossible!"

The entire chamber began to quake. The corpses nailed to the walls dropped one by one, and wherever they fell, the earth opened like a hungry mouth.

The towering shadow leaned toward Takeru, its final words like winter's breath:

"You will find me... before they find you."

And then—it exploded.

---

A blinding green light filled the room. For a moment, Takeru was blind. When his vision returned, he found himself alone in the wrecked chamber. Kazuya and Hikari were gone. Even Ryo's corpse had vanished.

Only one thing remained:

The two swords.

Shinko-no-Tsurugi and Tama-no-Tsurugi lay on the floor, faintly glowing.

Takeru reached out—but just before touching them, he heard the laugh again.

Hikari was sitting on a pile of bones in the corner, playing with a headless cloth doll:

— "Oh, don't touch them! Not yet!" — she leapt forward, her golden eyes glowing in the dark — "Every sword needs a wielder. And Kuroyami doesn't share."

She pointed to his red eye.

— "If you touch them now, they'll devour each other… and they'll devour you with them."

Takeru looked at his hand. The one that once held Kuroyami-no-Tsurugi was now black up to the elbow, as if the skin had burned from within.

— "What… what's happening to me?"

Hikari chuckled as her body began to fade like a dream slipping away at dawn:

— "The real game has begun. And now, they'll all be hunting you… because you touched what no one was meant to touch."

Before vanishing completely, she tossed the headless doll toward him.

— "Find the White Priestess. She's the only one who knows how to stop what's started."

---

Outside the castle, dawn had begun to rise. But the sun that emerged was red, like blood.

Takeru stood at the edge, staring at the distant villages. Something inside him knew that Ryo wasn't truly dead… or at least, not dead in any human way.

The black blade in his hand whispered:

"Now… we know the way."

In the distance, above the Mountain of Bones, black clouds gathered—shaped like giant hands.

The true game had begun.