They made camp in a hollow at the edge of a dead forest.
The sky remained a bruised red, the sun little more than a dim, bleeding eye behind the clouds.
Kaito sat by the fire, but its warmth didn't reach him.
The cursed book lay unopened beside him, pulsing gently, like a living heart.
Sora slept fitfully, twitching and murmuring in her dreams.
Kaito watched her, guilt gnawing at his insides.
He couldn't stop thinking about the tree.
The monstrous thing breaking free.
And the whispers calling him Master.
He rubbed his arms, feeling the phantom pressure of invisible chains tightening around him.
As the night deepened, something stirred in the forest.
A soft rustling, a scraping of claws against bark.
Kaito stood, alert.
From the shadows emerged a figure — tall, robed in black, face hidden beneath a hood.
It carried a staff made of twisted bone.
Kaito's heart hammered in his chest, but he didn't move.
The figure stopped a few feet away.
"You are late," it said, voice dry as dead leaves.
Kaito swallowed hard. "Late... for what?"
"For your Ascension. For your birthright."
The figure lowered its hood.
Beneath was a face stitched together from different corpses, its eyes glowing faintly.
"You were made, Kaito," it said. "Forged from the blood of the old gods, crafted to be the vessel."
Kaito stumbled back.
"No... you're lying."
The figure laughed — a hollow, terrible sound.
"You feel it, don't you? The hunger inside you. The call of the tree. The urge to rule, to devour."
Kaito shook his head violently.
"I'm human! I'm just a normal person!"
"No," the figure hissed. "You were never human."
It raised its hand, and the cursed book floated into the air.
The pages turned rapidly until they settled on a single illustration — a boy, crowned with thorns, standing atop a mountain of corpses.
The boy's face was unmistakable.
It was Kaito.
Sora woke with a start, sensing the wrongness in the air.
She saw Kaito standing there, frozen, the cursed book glowing ominously.
"Kaito?" she called out.
He didn't respond.
The figure spoke again, louder now.
"Embrace your nature. Accept the power. The world will kneel before you."
"No!" Kaito screamed, clutching his head.
Visions filled his mind — fire, blood, cities crumbling beneath his feet.
Himself, standing at the center of it all, laughing.
He dropped to his knees, gasping.
Sora ran to him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Kaito, fight it! You're stronger than this!"
Tears streamed down his face.
"I don't know if I am," he whispered.
The figure advanced, staff crackling with dark energy.
"If you do not choose willingly," it said, "we will tear the human part from you."
Dozens of shapes moved behind it — twisted things with too many limbs, eyeless, mouthless, radiating pure malice.
Sora stood between Kaito and the figure, sword trembling in her hands.
"You'll have to go through me first."
The figure tilted its head.
"So be it."
The forest erupted into chaos.
The creatures charged.
Sora fought fiercely, slashing and dodging, but there were too many.
One latched onto her leg, pulling her down.
Another clawed at her back.
Kaito watched in horror, paralyzed.
Inside him, something ancient uncoiled — a black serpent of power, whispering.
Let go, it said. Save her. Become what you were meant to be.
Kaito's vision blurred.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Then, without thinking, he reached out — and the power exploded from him.
The air turned cold and thick.
The creatures froze mid-attack, their bodies twisting grotesquely as invisible forces crushed them.
The figure staggered back, eyes wide.
Kaito rose slowly, his body crackling with dark energy, his shadow stretching long and jagged.
Sora looked up at him, fear flashing across her face.
"K-Kaito?"
He turned toward her — and for a moment, his eyes weren't his own.
They glowed with an unnatural silver light, cold and unfeeling.
He raised his hand, and the ground trembled.
The figure fell to its knees.
"Yes!" it cried. "Awaken, Lord of Shadows!"
But Kaito hesitated.
He saw Sora — bruised, bleeding, but still standing, still fighting for him.
And he remembered.
He wasn't just the product of ancient rituals.
He wasn't just a vessel.
He was Kaito.
With a roar, he turned the unleashed power against the figure, blasting it into ash.
The remaining creatures howled and fled into the night.
The forest grew quiet again.
Kaito collapsed, exhausted.
Sora crawled to his side, wrapping her arms around him.
"You're still you," she whispered fiercely. "You're still Kaito."
He clung to her like a lifeline, tears wetting her shoulder.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
The darkness inside him was real.
And next time, it might not let him go so easily.
Far away, deep within the ruins of the library, the black tree shuddered and split open wider.
Something vast, something ancient, stirred in the darkness.
And it whispered one word, carried on the wind:
"Soon."