The skies above Watatsumi Island were heavy with an unnatural tension, the air thick with the residual energy of the cataclysmic clash that had just unfolded. The once serene horizon was now marred by the lingering aftermath of two godlike beings descending into the depths, their power so immense that it had caused the very earth to tremble and crack. The waterfall that cascaded into the abyss leading to Enkanomiya roared louder than ever, as if mourning the disturbance of its ancient sanctity. The ground, though now still, bore the scars of the violent quakes that had shaken the island to its core. The citizens of Watatsumi huddled together, their faces pale with fear, their whispers filled with dread and uncertainty. The world they knew seemed to be unraveling before their eyes.

Sangonomiya Kokomi, the Divine Priestess of Watatsumi Island, stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the waterfall. Her usually calm and composed demeanor was fractured, her hands trembling as she clutched her ceremonial staff. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos that had erupted. The sight of the two beings—entities of unimaginable power—descending into the depths of Enkanomiya had left her shaken to her core. She could still feel the echoes of their clash reverberating through the air, a reminder that the fragile balance of their world had been shattered.

"Your Excellency!" a familiar voice called out, breaking through her thoughts. Kokomi turned to see General Gorou of the Watatsumi Army approaching, his usual steadfast expression now etched with concern. His armor was scuffed, and his fur was matted with sweat and dirt, evidence of the battles he had fought on Yashiori Island. Yet, despite his weariness, his presence was a comforting sight amidst the chaos.

"Gorou!" Kokomi exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and urgency. "It's good to see you at such a moment. I was worried about you and the others."

Gorou bowed his head respectfully, his ears twitching slightly as he straightened. "We had to retreat from Yashiori Island, Your Excellency. The battle there was nothing compared to the madness that erupted when those two… beings appeared. The skies split, the ground shook, and even our enemies fled in terror. It was as if the world itself was tearing apart."

Kokomi's eyes darkened as she nodded, her gaze drifting back to the waterfall. "The mortal wars we fight are but a fleeting distraction to beings like them. What we witnessed… it was the Raiden Shogun, locked in combat with something—or someone—else. And… I believe the other was the reanimated corpse of Lord Orobashi."

Gorou's eyes widened in disbelief, his tail stiffening. "Lord Orobashi? But how could that be? He was slain centuries ago. His remains are enshrined on Yashiori Island. How could he possibly return?"

Kokomi sighed, her grip tightening on her staff. "I don't have the answers, Gorou. This is a battle of gods, and their rules are beyond our understanding. What I do know is that their clash has awakened something ancient, something that should have remained buried. The tremors we felt… they weren't just from their fight. Something is stirring in the depths of Enkanomiya."

Gorou's expression hardened, his loyalty and determination shining through. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together, Your Excellency. Watatsumi Island has endured countless trials, and we'll endure this one as well."

Kokomi offered him a small, grateful smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you, Gorou. Your courage gives me strength. But we must prepare for the worst. The balance of power has shifted, and I fear that what we've seen so far is only the beginning."

As if to underscore her words, the ground beneath them began to tremble once more, a low, ominous rumble that grew in intensity. Kokomi's eyes darted to the ocean surrounding Watatsumi Island, her heart sinking as she saw the once calm waters churning violently. The waves rose and fell like the breaths of a colossal beast, and the surface of the water began to bubble and froth as if it were boiling.

"What's going on?!" Kokomi exclaimed, her voice barely audible over the growing roar of the ocean. The water turned an eerie, milky white, and from its depths, blinding rays of light erupted, piercing the sky and illuminating the island in an otherworldly glow.

"Your Excellency, get back!" Gorou shouted, his instincts kicking in as he stepped in front of Kokomi, his body shielding her from the unknown threat. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, though he knew that no blade could protect them from whatever was happening.

Kokomi's eyes widened as she peered over Gorou's shoulder, her breath catching in her throat. The ocean was no longer just water—it was a living, writhing entity, and from its depths, massive shapes began to emerge. Islands, impossibly large and ancient, rose from the depths, their surfaces gleaming with an ethereal light. One by one, they ascended into the sky, defying gravity as they hovered above the ocean, casting long shadows over Watatsumi Island.

"This… this can't be…" Kokomi whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear. She stepped out from behind Gorou, her staff glowing faintly as if responding to the energy radiating from the floating islands. Her mind raced, piecing together the fragments of ancient texts and legends she had studied. And then it hit her.

"Gorou… this is..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The lost civilization, the ancient realm that lies beneath the ocean… it's rising. Kokomi took a slow step forward, her lips trembling as she forced the words out. "This... this is Enkanomiya. It has... returned."

The two stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the floating islands as they loomed over Watatsumi Island like ancient sentinels. The air was thick with an oppressive energy, and the once vibrant colors of the island seemed to dim in the presence of the risen realm.

Raiden Ei's consciousness drifted on the edge of oblivion, her body weightless as if suspended in a vast emptiness. The last thing she remembered was the blinding arc of her final strike, the culmination of her might as the God of Eternity. Yet, even that was not enough.

A sharp, biting wind lashed at her face, stinging her skin and rousing her from unconsciousness. Her violet eyes fluttered open, met not with the infinite void of Enkanomiya, but with an endless expanse of brilliant blue sky. For a moment, she stared in confusion, her mind struggling to reconcile what she saw. Where was the bleak abyss? The pale, drifting mist of the sunken ruins? How had she ended up beneath the open heavens?

Then, before she could gather her thoughts, the shrill whistle of something cutting through the air reached her ears.

Shing!

A blade slashed through the ancient stone pillar beneath her, carving a deep, merciless line just inches from her right cheek. A flash of silver steel embedded itself beside her, vibrating from the force of its throw. Recognition struck her instantly—Musou Isshin.

Slowly, carefully, she turned her gaze in the direction the blade had come from.

There, standing amidst the rubble and dust of the battlefield, was the one she had fought so fiercely. The one who had bested her. The one who now loomed over her like an omen of inevitable defeat.

Momon.

A being unlike anything she had ever encountered.

He strode forward with an eerie grace, his skeletal form gleamed brightly under the midday sun. The sharp angles of his skull-like visage were devoid of flesh, yet his movements carried the weight of an overwhelming presence. Every step he took exuded an air of absolute control—an aura that sent a shiver through even the most hardened warrior's spine.

And yet, he was no mere bringer of destruction.

As he stopped a few feet from her, his hollow eyes glowed with an unnatural crimson light. Not with malice, nor with mockery, but with something eerily close to curiosity. Then, in a voice as composed as it was unreadable, he spoke.

"This was a tough battle, Miss Shogun." His tone carried a measured respect, neither boasting nor belittling. "I have learned much from your swordsmanship in this fight. You have my thanks."

Ei remained still for a moment, processing the words. Then, with a slow breath, she sat up, brushing dust from her armor.

"Please do not jest," she muttered, her voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "I was never even close to striking you. This battle was one-sided from the start."

Momon tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. Then, instead of continuing to tower over her, he moved with deliberate ease and sat beside her, resting his back against the fractured pillar.

The silence that followed was strange, almost unnatural. She stole a glance at him, her gaze tracing the contours of his skeletal frame. The way he sat, legs stretched out before him, shoulders slightly slumped—it was an odd juxtaposition of deathly appearance and casual poise.

For a moment, she struggled to comprehend it. A being of such power, of such absolute devastation, carrying himself like nothing more than an adventurer on a midday break?

Her hands curled into fists against her lap.

"You… what are you?" she asked at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "You are no god, yet you are more powerful than one. You are not human, yet you walk among them. A mortal should not have bested me, but neither should an immortal. So tell me, Momon—what exactly am I looking at?"

"I am an undead. That's it," Momon said, his voice calm, unaffected by the wind that howled across the broken battlefield.

Ei turned to him, her amethyst eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to make sense of his words. "That's it?" she repeated, her voice tinged with both confusion and disbelief. "You're an undead, and that's all there is to it? No grand purpose, no divine mission, no hidden agenda?"

Momon tilted his head slightly, the faint glow within his skeletal frame flickering like a dying ember. "What else do you want me to say?" he asked, his tone almost amused. "Should I spin a tale of tragedy and loss? Should I claim to be a fallen god, cursed to walk the earth for eternity? Or perhaps I should declare myself a harbinger of doom, destined to bring about the end of all things?"

Ei's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression a mixture of frustration and curiosity. "You speak as if your existence is trivial," she said, her voice sharp. "But you wield power that rivals the gods. You defeated me, the Electro Archon, as if it were nothing. How can you dismiss yourself so easily?"

Momon let out a low, rumbling sound that might have been a chuckle. "Power does not define what I am," he said simply. "I am an undead. A being who exists beyond the boundaries of life and death. That is all."

Ei's brow furrowed as she studied him, her mind racing to reconcile his words with the sheer magnitude of his power. "But why do you not call yourself a god?" she pressed. "You possess immortality, invincibility, and strength that surpasses even the most ancient of beings. By any measure, you are divine."

Momon turned to face her fully, his skeletal visage unreadable yet somehow expressive. "What actually makes a god, Miss Shogun?" he asked, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to echo through the very air around them. "Is it immortality? The ability to live forever, untouched by time? Is it invincibility? The power to stand against any foe, unyielding and unbroken? Or is it being unstoppable? The capacity to reshape the world according to your will?"

Ei opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She had always believed that a god was defined by their dominion over the elements, their eternal existence, and their ability to shape the world. But now, faced with Momon's questions, she found herself questioning the very foundation of her beliefs.

Momon continued, his tone calm yet piercing. "Immortality is not unique to gods. There are beings who live for centuries, even millennia, without ever ascending to divinity. Invincibility is a fleeting concept—even the strongest can be brought low by the right circumstances. And being unstoppable? That is merely a matter of perspective. No one is truly unstoppable, not even the gods."

Ei's gaze dropped to the ground, her mind racing as she processed his words. "Then what does make a god?" she asked quietly, almost to herself.

Momon leaned back against the pillar, his skeletal fingers drumming lightly on the hilt of the Musou Isshin. "A god is not defined by power alone," he said. "A god is defined by belief. By the faith of those who worship them, by the ideals they embody, and by the legacy they leave behind. Without belief, a god is nothing more than a powerful being. And with belief, even the weakest can ascend to divinity."

Ei's eyes widened as his words struck a chord deep within her. She had always seen herself as the embodiment of eternity, the unchanging pillar upon which Inazuma was built. But now, she wondered if her vision of eternity had blinded her to the true nature of divinity. Had she become so focused on preserving the status quo that she had forgotten the importance of growth, change, and the faith of her people?

Momon's voice broke through her thoughts, softer now, almost gentle. "I do not call myself a god because I do not seek worship. I do not seek to embody an ideal or leave a legacy. I am simply an undead, a being who exists outside the cycle of life and death. And that is enough for me."

Ei looked at him, her expression a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "But why?" she asked. "With your power, you could reshape the world. You could become a god, if you wished. Why choose to remain… this?"

Momon's skeletal face seemed to soften, though it was impossible to tell for certain. "Because power is not an end in itself," he said. "It is a tool, a means to an end. And my end is not to rule or to be worshipped. It is simply to exist, to observe, and to learn. The world is vast and full of wonders, Miss Shogun. I have no desire to confine myself to the narrow role of a god."

Ei fell silent, her mind reeling from the weight of his words. For the first time in centuries, she felt a crack in the foundation of her beliefs, a glimmer of doubt that threatened to unravel everything she had built. But alongside that doubt was a spark of something else—something she hadn't felt in a long time. Curiosity. The desire to learn, to grow, to understand.

As the wind carried the whispers of the ancient ruins, Ei and Momon sat together in silence, two beings of immense power, each grappling with the weight of their existence and the uncertain future that lay ahead. And for the first time, Ei found herself wondering if perhaps eternity was not a destination, but a journey—one that required not just strength, but the courage to change.

Momon extended his arm into the swirling abyss of a portal, the dark void shifting like liquid shadow around his skeletal fingers. For a brief moment, the unnatural silence that accompanied his magic sent a ripple of unease through the air—an omen of the immense power he wielded so effortlessly. Then, without a sound, he withdrew his hand, now holding a small glass vial.

The bottle was simple in design, but the liquid inside pulsed with an eerie radiance, a crimson glow swirling like molten ruby beneath the glass. He extended it toward Ei, the gesture almost casual despite the weight of what had just transpired between them.

She hesitated.

Her violet eyes flickered between the potion and the being who had defeated her so easily—an existence unlike anything she had encountered before. The power disparity between them had been absolute, undeniable. He had crushed her strongest attacks as if they were nothing. And now, here he was, offering her aid, as if their battle had been nothing more than a passing skirmish.

She took the vial from his outstretched hand, feeling the cool smoothness of the glass against her fingers.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice steady but edged with caution.

"A Minor Healing Potion," Momon replied, his tone even, matter-of-fact. "You are still wounded. Drink it."

Ei stared at him, searching his expression for any sign of deception—but all she saw was an empty, expressionless skull. His glowing crimson eyes remained fixed on her, unreadable yet strangely… patient.

At this point, there was no room for doubt. She had already seen too much.

Without another word, she uncorked the vial and tipped it back, allowing the thick, almost syrup-like liquid to slide past her lips. It was unlike any medicine she had ever tasted—neither bitter nor sweet, yet impossibly smooth, vanishing down her throat like mist.

The effect was instant.

A surge of warmth exploded within her, radiating outward from her core like a rising sun. The deep cuts across her body glowed with an ethereal light, golden like dawn breaking over the horizon. The pain that had dulled her senses melted away, replaced by a sensation so soothing it felt almost unnatural. Torn muscles knit themselves back together, bruises faded into nothingness, and the exhaustion that had weighed down her limbs dissipated as if it had never been there.

She flexed her fingers, marveling at the seamless restoration. It wasn't just healing—it was as if she had never been injured in the first place.

"…Thank you," Ei murmured, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Think nothing of it," Momon replied, as though he had simply handed her a common remedy rather than a miracle.

Ei rose slowly, the fresh energy coursing through her making the movement effortless. And then—her breath caught in her throat.

She turned, her gaze stretching out to the horizon, and what she saw left her utterly speechless.

The dark abyss of Enkanomiya—the eternal void where the sun never shone, where ancient ruins had been buried in the depths of the sea—was no more.

In its place, massive islands now floated above the waters near Watatsumi Island, colossal landmasses suspended in the sky as if held aloft by the hand of a god.

The sheer scale of it was incomprehensible. Towering rock formations that had once been submerged beneath the waves now stood proud, wreathed in golden sunlight. The forgotten ruins of an ancient civilization, which had once been imprisoned in perpetual darkness, were now bathed in a brilliant azure sky.

It was… impossible.

Yet, it was real.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

She turned sharply toward Momon, her expression filled with disbelief.

"Momon… you can't just—this…" She gestured wildly toward the transformed world, her normally composed demeanor fracturing under the sheer weight of what she was witnessing. "This is the power of a god, Momon. You say you are just an undead, and then you perform a divine miracle. How can you expect me to believe you're anything less?"

The words came out more as an accusation than anything else.

Momon, however, remained unmoved.

His crimson eyes, burning like distant stars, followed the floating islands with an almost idle curiosity, as if he were merely observing a piece of art rather than the result of his own spell. Then, after a moment, he let out a small, amused hum.

"So, what I said before went over your head, huh?" His skeletal mouth did not move, yet his voice carried a hint of wry amusement.

With a fluid, effortless motion, he stood up, stretching his arms before clasping them behind his back. He, too, took in the view, his gaze sweeping across the massive skyborne landmasses.

"This is the first time I've used a spell like this," he admitted, as though he himself had not yet fully processed the extent of his own creation. "The spell is called [God's Hand]. It allows me to manipulate the terrain on a grand scale, to reshape the world as if I were a god. I had my doubts about using it, but it seems to have worked as intended."

Ei could only stare at him.

The sheer casualness of his words—the way he spoke of something so monumental as if it were little more than an experiment—sent a shiver down her spine.

A spell. Just one spell.

If he could do this so effortlessly, then… what were his true limits?

For centuries, she had believed herself to be among the strongest beings in existence. She had clashed with gods, vanquished monstrous foes, and shaped the course of Inazuma's history with her own hands. Yet now, standing beside this being—this undead whose power defied all logic—she felt something she had not felt in a long, long time.

Powerlessness.

It was not fear, not exactly. It was something far more unsettling—a realization that everything she understood about strength, divinity, and the very fabric of reality itself was now being rewritten before her eyes.

Momon was something beyond gods.

And she had no idea what that truly meant.

Momon walked toward the edge of the floating island, his boots barely making a sound against the ancient stone. The winds howled around them, sweeping through the vast sky like an endless tide. The elevation granted him a breathtaking view—dozens of massive islands hovering over the shimmering sea, remnants of a land long forgotten now returned to the light of day by his own hand.

He came to a halt at the very edge, peering down at the world below.

A few meters behind him, Ei followed, her curiosity outweighing the uncertainty still lingering in her heart. As she reached his side, her gaze followed his, and what she saw made her breath hitch.

Below them lay an island covered in lush greenery, its landscape a stark contrast to the artificial stillness of the floating ruins. Towering coral-like trees bathed the land in soft hues of violet and blue, their luminous glow barely visible in the early daylight. A magnificent waterfall cascaded down from the island's elevated center, spilling into the ocean in endless torrents of white mist.

For the first time in five hundred years, Ei looked upon the island of her past.

"What's this island?" Momon asked, his tone neutral yet carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.

Ei took a moment before answering, her voice laced with nostalgia. "This is Watatsumi Island," she said. "We fell into that waterfall while we were fighting. That was the entrance to Enkanomiya—the sacred land buried beneath the ocean's depths." Her fingers lightly traced the hilt of her sword, as if grounding herself in the present. "I have not seen this island from above since… five centuries ago."

Her eyes lingered on the land below, as memories long buried surfaced within her mind.

"The people of Watatsumi… their ancestors once lived in Enkanomiya, exiled from the surface by Celestia itself," she continued. "For them, that land was sacred—a relic of their past, a testament to their survival. And now, thanks to your magic, their ancestral homeland has returned to the skies." She let out a slow breath. "They must be in awe… and terrified."

Momon's gaze didn't waver as he observed the island. The waterfall, the city nestled between coral formations, the people moving about like tiny ants, no doubt shaken by the miraculous upheaval of their world.

Then, as if recalling something, he turned his gaze toward Ei.

"Isn't your Shogunate in a civil war with this island?" he asked, his tone calm but probing.

Ei nodded, a trace of guilt flickering across her expression. "Yes. That's true."

Momon remained silent for a few moments before speaking again.

"You know… this Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree have made Inazuma a very hostile and grim nation." His voice, though devoid of anger, carried something far worse—disappointment.

Ei clenched her jaw. She had heard such words before, from those who had opposed her, from the people who had suffered under her rule. And yet, coming from him—from an outsider who had no ties to this land—it somehow felt heavier.

"I only wished for Inazuma to remain unchanged," she said, her voice firm but quiet. "To remain free from the erosion of time. That is Eternity."

Momon let out a slow, almost exasperated sigh. He turned to face her fully now, his crimson eyes glowing with an intensity that sent a strange chill through her spine.

"Miss Shogun," he began, his voice steady, measured, yet carrying a weight that made the air feel heavier, "human life barely lasts ninety years. That 'Eternity' you speak of… it's just for you, and no one else."

Ei's fingers twitched slightly at her side.

Momon took a step forward. "The people of Inazuma are struggling. Your nobles rule in your name, but their hands are drenched in corruption. The nation you want to preserve is already decaying from within." He shook his head. "You insist on putting your people through hardship, through suffering, all for something that only you can understand."

He narrowed his gaze.

"I don't know if there's some tragic past that drives you to do this… but if there is, you need to let it go." His words cut through the air like a blade. "Because life goes on."

Ei's breath hitched, her grip tightening around her blade. She wanted to refute him. To deny it. To tell him that he didn't understand, that he couldn't possibly grasp what she had seen, what she had lost.

But then—

"I've seen civilizations rise to their peak," she murmured, her gaze hardening. "Only for them to be wiped away by the Heavenly Principles."

Momon tilted his head slightly. "Let me guess… Khaenri'ah?"

A sharp exhale left her lips. "Yes." Her voice wavered just slightly, betraying a wound long buried. "I lost my sister there. The original Electro Archon—Makoto."

For the first time, Momon was silent.

A beat passed. Then—

"…Sorry for your loss." His voice was softer this time.

Ei turned to look at him, surprised by the shift in his tone. He sounded… sincere.

But then—

"But still," he continued, his voice regaining its steel, "you need to let it go."

She felt her heart tighten.

"Even your sister would want that," he said, his gaze unwavering. "At this point, you're not just hurting yourself. You're hurting your entire nation."

Ei didn't respond. She couldn't.

Her mind raced with everything she had built, everything she had lost. The war, the decree, the pain—had it all truly been meaningless? Was she truly wrong?

She turned away, her gaze shifting back toward the horizon.

Inazuma had become rotten. She had known this. She had seen the cracks forming, had felt the weight of her people's suffering through their eyes, through the voices of those who had dared to oppose her.

But she had turned away. Convinced herself that it was necessary. That she was right.

But now—

Now, she realized that if she wanted Inazuma to change, then she, too, would have to change first.

The wind howled around them, carrying the unspoken words between them into the endless sky.

And for the first time in centuries… Ei felt uncertain.

The city of Inazuma was in disarray, though its people worked tirelessly to restore some sense of normalcy. Buildings lay in ruin, the streets were cracked and scorched, and the scent of burning wood and metal lingered in the air. Yet, despite the devastation, a tense silence had settled over Narukami Island.

For the past three hours, there had been no explosions, no flashes of lightning splitting the sky, no sudden bursts of violent shockwaves that threatened to tear apart what remained of the capital. The battle between the Raiden Shogun and the mysterious warrior known as Momon had begun with the force of a thunderstorm, but now… nothing. The people waited in anxious anticipation, afraid to ask the question on everyone's minds—who had emerged victorious?

Within the heart of the city, Kujou Sara stood at the head of a heavily armed force. Her expression was a mix of frustration and anxiety as she paced, her violet eyes darting toward the direction of the battle. The uncertainty gnawed at her. The Raiden Shogun, the very embodiment of eternity, could not lose. She would not lose. And yet, why had there been no sign of her return?

But there were more immediate matters at hand.

Before her, bound by thick ropes and held under close guard by several samurai, stood Aether, Paimon, and Thoma. They had been captured once again, their previous escape attempt proving futile. This time, the guards took no chances. Aether's arms were restrained behind his back, and a blade pressed lightly against his spine, a constant reminder that a single wrong move could end his life. Paimon, for once, was silent, her small frame trembling with fear and uncertainty. Thoma, though outwardly calm, kept clenching and unclenching his jaw, as if struggling to hold back a sharp retort.

Kujou Sara turned to Aether, eyes burning with suspicion and anger. With a swift motion, she drew her katana and pointed the tip directly at his throat.

"You," she said, her voice cold and razor-sharp. "If anything happens to the Shogun because of you and that monster you brought here, I swear on my life—you will not see the end of this day."

Aether met her gaze without flinching, his golden eyes unwavering. He was no stranger to threats, especially in situations like this. "You think I wanted this to happen?" he asked, his voice calm despite the tension in the air. "Do you honestly believe that I have control over someone like Momon?"

Sara's grip tightened around the hilt of her sword, the muscles in her arm tensing. "That doesn't matter. You led him here. You knew what he was capable of, and yet you stood there, letting him challenge the Shogun."

Aether exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "He challenged her because she attacked first."

Sara's expression darkened, and the air around her seemed to hum with restrained fury. "You expect me to believe that the Shogun would recklessly engage a battle without reason?"

Paimon, who had been hovering as still as a statue, suddenly snapped. "Oh, come on! Do you really think your Shogun never makes mistakes? You guys treat her like she's some all-knowing goddess, but guess what—she's just as flawed as everyone else!"

The tension thickened like a storm cloud ready to burst. The samurai holding Aether stiffened, glancing at Sara for orders. A few of them shifted uncomfortably, their loyalty to the Shogun unwavering, yet unable to deny that Paimon's words stung with truth.

Sara took a slow, measured breath before lowering her sword slightly, though the threat in her gaze remained. "Watch your tongue, floating creature," she warned. "Disrespecting the Shogun is an offense that will not be tolerated."

Thoma, sensing that things were escalating, decided to step in. "Lady Sara," he began, his tone diplomatic but firm, "we're all in the dark about what's happening right now. But lashing out at us isn't going to change anything. If anything, we should be focusing on the bigger picture—what if neither of them have won? What if the battle is still ongoing somewhere we can't see?"

Sara clenched her jaw. The uncertainty was what infuriated her the most. She wanted to believe, needed to believe, that the Raiden Shogun was standing victorious at this very moment. But if that were the case, where was she?

She exhaled sharply, stepping back, though her soldiers remained at the ready. "Then let's hope, for your sake, that she returns soon," she said. "Because if she doesn't… I will make sure that you all pay for it."

The three of them exchanged wary glances. The tension wasn't going to ease anytime soon, but for now, they could do nothing but wait—and pray that the storm brewing on the horizon wasn't worse than the battle that had already passed.

The heavy silence that had settled over Narukami Island was shattered by a sudden commotion. Gasps rippled through the gathered citizens, their whispers growing louder with every passing second. The tension in the air shifted, no longer fueled by fear of battle, but by sheer disbelief.

Kujou Sara's sharp ears caught the murmurs first, and her head snapped toward the source of the disturbance. She saw the samurai parting like waves before an unstoppable force, their rigid discipline faltering as they stepped aside, making way for—

Her heart nearly stopped.

Her sharp, violet eyes widened in shock as she beheld the figures walking toward them.

There, striding forward with unwavering grace, was the Raiden Shogun. Her tall, elegant form was unmistakable—long violet hair cascading down her back, her regal attire still pristine despite the hours of fierce combat. The very sight of her should have been reassuring, should have lifted the weight of uncertainty from Sara's shoulders. And yet…

Beside her walked a dark and foreboding presence.

A towering figure, clad in pitch-black armor that absorbed the faint glow of the torches around them. A tattered gothic cape trailed behind him, its frayed edges fluttering in the breeze, as if whispering secrets of a battlefield long past. A deep hood concealed much of his face, but what little could be seen was an emotionless mask of midnight steel. His very presence radiated power—an undeniable, suffocating weight that made even the most hardened warriors tremble.

Momon.

The enemy. The monster that had battled the Almighty Shogun for hours, shaking the land with their devastating clash.

Kujou Sara's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers twitched at her katana's hilt, but she did not draw it. She couldn't.

There was no way this was happening.

"Shogun?!" she finally managed to exclaim, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Her soldiers were just as stunned, unsure whether to bow in reverence to their leader or raise their weapons against the dark warrior standing at her side.

Just a few feet away, Aether and Paimon had been watching in stunned silence—until realization struck them.

"Momon?!" Paimon's shrill voice cut through the air, her tiny face lighting up with relief.

Aether's golden eyes widened in surprise, then softened. "You're alive…" he murmured, an unmistakable note of relief in his voice.

Thoma, who had been struggling against his captors moments ago, blinked in sheer disbelief at the sight before him. He had expected anything—but not this.

Momon, however, paid no mind to the expressions of shock around him. His deep, commanding voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Hey, you." His masked gaze locked onto the samurai restraining Aether, Paimon, and Thoma. "Release my companions."

A heavy silence followed his words.

The samurai hesitated—only for the briefest of moments—before their hands instinctively moved to obey. They had no choice. The raw authority in his tone left no room for argument. They loosened the bindings, stepping back immediately, as if afraid he might strike them down should they displease him.

Kujou Sara's hands clenched into tight fists. Rage and confusion warred within her, but she could not yet act—not when the Shogun herself stood beside this man and had yet to utter a single command against him.

"What… what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice sharp with frustration. "Almighty Shogun—what is going on?!"

The Raiden Shogun turned to her General, her expression unreadable as her violet gaze met Sara's.

"General," she said, her voice calm, yet carrying an unmistakable weight of authority. "I want you to summon all the Clans to Tenshukaku… immediately."

Sara froze.

The Clans? All of them?

Such a command was not issued lightly. It meant something unprecedented had occurred—something that could reshape the very foundation of Inazuma.

Still, though her mind swirled with a thousand questions, she knew better than to defy a direct order from her Shogun.

She clenched her fist over her heart, bowing her head. "As you command."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched away, barking orders at her troops as she moved.

Yet even as she carried out her duty, she could not shake the unease crawling up her spine.

Something had changed.

And she had a terrible feeling that Inazuma would never be the same again.