The shadow of death was always clinging tightly onto me. My heart stopped several times inside my mother's belly. When I was born, I was pronounced dead. I had no pulse, and I was not even breathing.

When I was about to be cremated, I struggled, struggled, and cried. I can say beyond a doubt that the wish I strongly yearned for came true. I made it reality. But my limit was that I could only do it with one body.

Ubuyashiki.

It pains me to say this, but what you said was right.

All living creatures will meet death, without exception. Feelings are internal and indestructible.

That is indeed correct.

I do not remember a single person I killed. Once the flesh dies, it all ends. But then what? Feelings are inherited and never destroyed. Even I lost to this. The truth was right before my eyes. And it made me shake with emotion. My flesh is most likely going to be destroyed in an instant because of the sunlight.

However, my feelings are indestructible. They are eternal. So I have decided to entrust all my emotions to this child. His heart and breath have stopped, but his cells are not destroyed.

They are alive.

I can still make it.

I will pump all my blood and power into you now. If you manage to escape swift death and stay alive, Kamado Tanjirou, you will conquer the light of the sun. You will become the strongest King among the Demons.

After all, you are the brother of Kamada Nezuko. You share the same blood. And you're the only one who can use the same breaths as that monster.

You will not die.

I believe that you won't.

Make my dream come true, Kamado Tanjirou.

You will…

You will destroy the Demon Hunters-

- in my stead…

They finally managed to pull the bleeding and crying Nezuko away from the frozen body of Tanjirou. Just a second before, he was fighting like a ferocious beast, or, for a lack of a better term, demon. His empty eyes showed nothing but the cruelest malice. He wanted them dead. He needed them dead, for they were his worst enemies. His most dear comrades. His most dear friends. His most dear brothers. And his little sister, which he risked his life to get back hers.

And then he was frozen as if he just shut down. His whips went back into his back. He went limp. He stopped attacking. Maybe it was Kanao's injection. Giyuu certainly hoped it was Kanao's injection. Without hesitation, Giyuu rushed forward and pulled Nezuko away, heart pounding since he realized that in doing so, he was unable to unleash his blade if Tanjirou tried to attack again. Kanao used the last of her energy to crawl away and finally fell into the beautiful world of darkness after being grabbed by a few Kakushi.

Silence filled the square. It wasn't total silence but the relative difference from just seconds before was jarring to Giyuu. The screaming, the screeching, the roars, and the cracks, were all gone in mere fragments of time. The Kakushi slowly edged away from the battlefield, dragging away some of the more injured Slayers, careful not to add any more wounds to them. Most of them were not going to be alive any longer. At the same time, the able-bodied Slayers came rushing from all corners of the town. There weren't many and were all hesitant to fight, for they had all heard of the exploits that made up the sort-of-legend Demon Slayer Tanjirou.

The silence continued. Giyuu's hope began to grow. He breathed a faint sigh of relief through his nose. "Tanjirou, he's fighting back."

Another Slayer, a Hinoto, next to Giyuu swallowed and took a step closer to the Pillar. Giyuu frowned internally at his presence. He felt a sudden great sadness press onto his shoulders at the realization that this Hinoto might be one of the last moderately ranking Slayers around. The deaths that day, each one he views as one of his failures, were creeping on him now like a dark shadow. The Hinoto swallowed and asked with a shaking breath, "Wh- what do we do now? D- do we kill him?"

"No…" Giyuu replied. "No, we will watch for now." His voice shook less with each sentence. "We wait. Tanjirou's fighting. He's resisting Muzan," A pause. "Knowing Tanjirou, he'll win. That's why he's not attacking. That's why he didn't kill and eat Nezuko. Tanjirou is still there. We will wait," he declared.

Besides… Even if I said to kill him, what would you be able to do? What would even I be able to do?... I can't lose another, Giyuu thought.

The Hinoto swallowed again and stepped back. But another Slayer, this time a Kanoto, spoke up. "What do we do if he doesn't win?"

Giyuu's own fears were echoed in that question. He glared at the Slayer for daring to even suggest such a thing, but then looked down, blade dipping. There was a chance that would happen. He can't deny that possibility. Giyuu did not reply for a short while. "He has to. Because… We'll die if he doesn't."

With grim faces, the Corps stood on guard.

"Don't you get it?"

It was a pleading voice. A tired voice. A desperate voice. A voice that Tanjirou never would have expected to hear from what he viewed as the ultimate power and the ultimate evil. And yet he had come to realize that this was what he expected after all he had learned of the king and coward. Tanjirou stared at Muzan in front of him. The great Demon King of a thousand years and three hundred thousand nights. Muzan was killed. So why wasn't he dead?

The boy felt tired, and it was hard to keep holding the hands above. The weight on his back. His arms were weak. The hands of his friends and his family. They once radiated warmth and love. But the comfort, the comfort that was slipping away every second, was that of a cold however rather than a warm blanket. It once gave him strength, to take hold of them. Now, it was asking too much of him to keep holding on. Muzan, his face and voice full of emotion, pressed against the Demon Slayer.

"Don't you realize that only you can do so?! That you have to carry on my will, that you were chosen by God to do so?" Muzan pulled.

Somewhere, in a darker corner of this dark realm of thought, Tanjiro felt irony. To be said to be ordained by a higher power when he had so vehemently denied there was anyone above him, no deity to strike him down. Maybe, Tanjiro thought, he is the god he is referring to. Tanjiro might have felt anger if he wasn't so tired. "To be the Superior being of this land!" Muzan continued, breathing heavily. "The Strongest Demon King! If it's you, it's possible for you to become the perfect creature!"

The perfect creature.

A pang of disgust sparked, lighting up that dark corner just slightly. Humanity was already perfect in their individual imperfection and their collective chaos. People lived as people should: as themselves. Perfection was impossible to achieve. Perfection didn't need to be achi-

No.

It's possible. Kibutsuji is granting me the ability to become perfect. People aren't perfect. And that is absolutely fine. But. Would it not still be better to be perfect? What is… wrong with seeking perfection? And… what is wrong if I could give them that perfection?

Tanjirou slipped from the hands above, just a little, just a fraction.

No disease. No death. No… cruelty. Everyone. Perfect. I would have power. Power to protect those I love. Power to be… the best. I want to be powerful.

To feel powerful. And I could save everyone. No one would have to suffer anymore.

He looked up at the Wisteria, They suddenly seemed so far away. "I have to go back," he muttered.

But why? That was some other voice. It sounded like him but it wasn't him. The same voice as before. This is a chance. A chance to be greater. They sacrificed everything for you. Are you not going to sacrifice yourself for them? And Tanjirou felt that he did.

He wanted to be powerful. He wanted to give back to everyone that had given him their fire. He needed to. Otherwise, how could he face them? Tell them that he gave up the chance of a lifetime. That corner of thought screamed an anguished cry of warning. The spark wanned, and the warning died. Come down. "Come down, Tanjirou," Muzan whispered, "Don't leave me."

Tanjirou fell.

Muzan hugged him tight.

The Wisteria retreated.

"That's right, Tanjirou. Stay with me."

They became one.

I am a perfect creature that is infinitely close to perfection.

Tanjirou's mouth twitched. It opened and closed and then started to make shapes. It seemed as if he was speaking. Silent words. "Tanjirou?" Giyuu asked, moving closer. "Is that you?"

"...Yes…"

Giyuu breathed out a breath he didn't know he was holding and lowered his sword, as did many other Slayers. Nezuko cried out in relief and tried to rush over, but was held down by members of the Kakushi. Inosuke and Zenetisu both celebrated with each other. Giyuu walked over. "We… were very worried. Nezuko's-"

"Nezuko."

Giyuu jerked backward. He felt something off. Tanjirou's voice was too cold. It lacked the warmth Giyuu had come to expect from him, that he had come to adore in him. There was none of that in Tanjirou's voice. There was none of that in his aura. He felt- "Nezuko, huh?"

Giyuu paused. He breathed in. "Tanjirou?"

Tanjirou lifted his face. A strangled cry, so unlike any sound Giyuu has made in years, clogged his throat. The familiar dark red was not there and neither were Muzan's plum-red pupils that adorned his feral form moments earlier. Instead, they were a shining ruby red. Brighter, glimmering underneath the sun. His teeth, visible inside his open mouth, were sharper than normal. Giyuu jumped backward, almost stumbling out of balance due to his lost arm. He skidded to a halt next to the ring of Slayers. Silence as the others realized what had just happened.

Behind Tanjiro, a figure. A place once reserved for Rengoku, or perhaps Yoriichi to the Demons, stood another.

"Why did Nezuko give up this gift?" Tanjirou asked, his voice full of wonder.

He spoke with a deeper tone than before. His pitch was sharper. Not a blade of ice, but a blade of simple steel. Passive with all the threat of death as a blade might possess. "She conquered the sun already. If she stayed, she could've kept her power and become something greater… It's a shame that she became resistant. Otherwise, I would have given her a second chance…"

Giyuu raised his sword. "Tanjirou-"

"I do not wish to fight you, Tomioka-san," Tanjirou interrupted. "I am not yet used to being… me. And I do not wish to kill you just yet. You have no idea how hard it is to resist his most desired final wishes. To see you, his enemy, wiped from this Earth. But I have a way. If the Demon Slayer Corps were to not exist anymore… if you all become Demons!" Tanjirou held out his hand. "I offer the chance to become a Demon to all of you."

No one moved. The Tanjirou they knew and the Tanjirou they were seeing were far too disjoint for them to get a proper grasp on reality. "Tanjirou, it's Muzan. You must resist. You are strong," Giyuu said.

A flicker of disappointment appeared on Tanjirou's face. He seemed almost hurt. "Muzan-sama gave me only his will and his wisdom. I'm still me, Giyuu. Please. Take my blood."

Still nobody moved. Tanjirou slowly lowered his arm. "So be it. I will retreat today. I need to collect myself. But know this- I will revive the Demons. The next generation of the Demon Clan is upon you." He turned around. "I really hope… that you will be a part of that."

The battered Slayers and powerless Kakushi could only watch as Tanjirou walked away into the sun. Slowly, slowly further away. A few feet. A few dozen feet. A hundred feet. Nezuko had long been shocked into silence. Inosuke and Zenitsu had stopped celebrating. Giyuu lowered his sword, his other arm raising in order to grab Tanjirou, before remembering that his arm was already lost. He lowered that arm as well.

"Slayers!" Giyuu called out, sounding stronger than he felt. Stronger than he was. "Retreat… Kakushi, clean up the place… I'll have to report this to Oyakata-sama."

The disheartened members of the Corps slowly made their way through their orders. Giyuu turned around, gazing back at the rising sun that once gave them so much hope. Tanjirou…

"You're the only two Hashira left now… Most of the other children have departed… And we haven't managed to exterminate the demons…" There was a long pause. "This was supposed to be our final meeting…" Kiriya's voice was grim and somber.

The room was silent. Giyuu and Sanemi did not have anything to say. This child, their master, feeling the burden of their failure. Outside of the building, all the Slayers gathered, sword unsheathed, sweating, on edge, eyes roaming the trees. The wounded were being treated nearby in a small makeshift facility. The able-bodied ones stood guard all around. There was the thought that maybe it wasn't the best idea to have the only people that had the ability and knowledge to kill demons in one place. Tanjirou knew of their locations. If he decided to attack, even with all of them together, they would most likely fail.

No. They would fail. There was no doubt that they would.

Still, they could try, and they would try. They were already crippled, and if their leader died, the organization would collapse there and then.

Kiriya continued. "The one where the Corps would be disbanded… And we'd all celebrate because we won… Now… now our pillar of light has become the new Demon King... and our Hashira," Kiriya looked at Giyuu's arm, "are in no condition to fight."

Giyuu looked down at his own arm, eyes downcast. Kiriya breathed in. He held that breath for a while before finally releasing it. His two sisters looked down. Kiriya licked his lips and swallowed, before speaking again. "We… have a contingency plan. We… my father. He came up with it when Nezuko and Tanjirou first arrived… Just in case Muzan did conquer the sun."

This shocked Giyuu and Sanemi, but they didn't show it. They simply waited for him to continue. "We'll have to enact mass recruitment. It's the only way."

Both Hashira narrowed their eyes. They knew what this meant. More Slayers, but a far lower skill bar. Like rapidly throwing balls into a small hole. One of them is bound to go in. The rest, well, war demanded casualties. "On the volcano of Sakurajima," Kiriya continued. "There's a deposit of Scarlet Crimson Ore and Scarlet Crimson Sand…" Kiriya glanced at the Pillar Duo. They still said nothing. "We'll have to recall the retired British Slayers… Mandatory Hashira Training… for everyone~~"

Kirya's voice wavered. "I'm sorry, I failed everyone…" Tears welled in his eyes. His two sisters were about to cry too. He bowed his head. "I failed you all!"

Sanemi and Giyuu jumped up. "Please raise your head!" Giyuu called out.

"We don't need your apology!" Sanemi added. "The biggest reason why the Demon Hunters stayed together is because of the efforts of the Ubuyakashi family!"

"Kiriya-sama, you did a magnificent job as well. It wasn't your fault. So I believe that all of your ancestors in the Ubuyakashi family, including your father, would be very proud of you."

Kiriya looked up at them and broke down, as did his sisters. "Thank you so much~"

Remember, it's the heart that drives people so it can grow as strong as you need it to.

[Sun Breathing, First Form: Dance]

Tanjiro stomped forward and swung the blade, trailing an arc of plasmic fire in the air. He was powerful now. As a Demon, as The Demon, he would never tire and never run out of stamina. Wielding even Sun Breathing would be effortless for him. So why did it feel so wrong? He tried it again with different forms. Fourth Form: Burning Bones, Summer Sun. Seventh Form: Beneficent Radiance. Eighth Form: Sunflower Thrust.

It didn't matter the power he put into his strikes. It didn't matter how fast or how slow or how fluid. Every swing was off. As if the forms themselves were rejecting him. As if the hands that once guided his strikes were now pushing against him. Tanijro's brow furrowed. Even you, Yoriichi-san? he thought. He sighed and sheathed his sword, a blade made from his own flesh to replace the one he left behind. It had a blue wrap over red lining, leading up to a golden wheel tsuba; the blade was still black but now sported a vibrant violet hamon.

No matter, Yoriichi-san. Even if you reject me, I will have to move forward. I will create my own Breathing Style. I will use my own power.

He turned around to find a Demon standing there with a coat ready for him to put on, silently watching his display of swordsmanship. It was a woolen green coat to match his previous green haori. Tanjirou raised his arms and the Demon put on his coat before retreating. Tanjirou fluffed the lapels and looked at his new clothing. He had met a tailor on his way to his part of the forest. The tailor and his seamstress wife made excellent high quality products but did not have enough clients to sustain his business. Tanjiro offered him a different path of living. Underneath his coat were a simple black suit, a white shirt, a dark blue vest with a pattern of black vines, and a red tie. Below that, he sported a pair of back trousers, a white belt, and a pair of black loafers with brass buckles.

The Demons knelt before their new king. In front of Tanjirou were his first demons. He felt a bond with them for they were his subjects and his creations. They were orphans and hunters, killers and the homeless, the odd pair of shopowners, and even two former slayers. "I wasn't always like this," he began. Just hours ago, even, I was nothing but human. But I inherited the Will of Muzan. You won't know who he is. I will teach you in the days to come.

I inherited his will of seeking perfection. I do not know all of what I can do. But I do know one thing."

Tanjirou stood outside in the setting sun, bathing in its light. It felt unusual. Not as comfortable as it used to feel, colder even. But it was soothing. Alien, yet nostalgic. "I know that I am perfect."

"And soon, you will be too." Tanjirou turned around to face the other crowd. Humans who have yet to receive his gift, whose faces showed fear yet excitement. "I will give you my blood. Whether you successfully evolve or not, it's not my problem." He turned to face the sun again, hand outstretched, enclosing around the golden orb. "I plan to turn every human into what I am now."

The other demons glanced at each other. "When I was a Demon Slayer, I tried to be merciful and tried to make others too. I felt anger at Muzan-sama for turning people into such… vile creatures, and I felt sad for them all… I thought that they were once human, and that an evil virus was the cause of your evil actions." A pause. "But I was wrong. We are still human."

The other demons looked up in confusion. "You see, I have come to the conclusion that we are at the peak of human evolution. We're still human. Just at the next level. And so, it is the right of every human to be given the chance to become something greater. Something better. I will turn the whole world into Demons. Imagine how much further we can go as a society? Everyone, ageless. Powerful. A single unit."

A demon spoke up nervously. "Th-then, what do we eat?"

Tanjirou sighed, head lowering as he regarded the demons. There seemed to be genuine regret in his voice. And in fact, the regret was genuine. "Unfortunately, some will have to be sacrificed for the greater good. Not all may be fortunate enough to receive this gift."

"Now drink." Tanjirou cut his hand and blood spilled freely from the wound. "And welcome to the new Dawn of Demons."