The chamber echoed with quiet murmurs as the Yami Clan's highest council gathered behind closed doors. Torches crackled along the walls, casting twisted shadows across ancient stone. At the heart of the debate lay one terrifying proposal:
Resurrect the Shadow Demon.
The room split—sensei, strategists, and relic scholars fiercely opposed the idea. Yet none could deny the core truth: the Shadow Relics, forged from an indestructible void-metal, could not be destroyed. As long as they existed, their dark resonance grew stronger.
One elder stood, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. "If the relics cannot be broken, then they must be used. The demon must be summoned—so we can end him."
Sensei after sensei raised their objections. "You're playing with apocalypse! How do you expect anyone to defeat him once he's unsealed?" cried Sensei Yamaru.
But it was futile. Logic fell silent before ambition.
The higher-ups prevailed.
The decision was final: revive the Shadow Demon using the relics. Then kill him before he could erase the world. It was a gamble—a desperate move disguised as a strategy. The sensei were outranked. Their warnings were silenced.
And somewhere, in the shadowed distance, a darker game began.
One Week Later...
At the break of dawn, a lone figure crawled toward Yami's main gates. His body was a broken mess—burnt skin peeling from his face, deep cuts along his torso, blood marking his every breath. Guards sounded the alarm, and medics rushed him into the infirmary.
The man collapsed just inside the village border, whispering for help before fading into unconsciousness.
Hours passed.
As the doctors worked, one of them froze—scalpel clattering to the floor.
"It can't be… This is Sensei Shidou. He's alive!"
The news swept across Yami like wildfire. The man believed to be long dead—killed by a masked assassin—was alive, breathing, and scarred beyond recognition.
By noon, Gaki stood at Shidou's bedside, flanked by Kimikage and Katakuichi. The room was thick with disbelief.
"You were dead," Gaki said, his voice quiet. "I watched you fall. I felt it."
Shidou turned his battered face to him, a weak smile tugging at his lips. "What you saw… was a clone. A perfect shadow copy. It had to look real. Even to you."
Gaki stepped back. "You let me think I lost you."
"I had no choice," Shidou replied. "It was an S-Rank mission, directly ordered by the elders. No one else could know. Not even you."
Kimikage narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, his voice low with a hint of disbelief.
Kimikage stepped forward.
"So… why come back now?"
The room fell quiet. Only the soft ticking of a nearby clock filled the silence.
Shidou looked up from the hospital bed, his face half-bandaged, eyes filled with manufactured warmth.
He offered a tired smile.
"Because this is my home."
He turned his gaze slowly to each of them. "You. Gaki. Katakuichi…" His voice caught just enough to feel sincere.
"You're not just students. You're family."
He exhaled a heavy breath, letting the moment linger.
"I was sent on a classified S-Rank mission—one I couldn't speak of. One the elders themselves approved. But now... I'm back."
He pushed himself upright, wincing dramatically.
"And I intend to fulfill my duty. As your sensei."
Kimikage looked away, his lips tightening. He had mourned this man. Held a silent vigil.
Katakuichi's eyes trembled for a moment before he nodded, his usual stoicism shaken.
Gaki placed a firm hand on Kimikage's shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but his aura was tense—deep in thought.
Shidou continued, voice softer now.
"I never wanted to leave you behind. But duty demanded it. Now… I want to be here. To guide you again."
The words hung in the air like a ghost. And though his voice carried the same cadence, and his eyes wore the same warmth—
Something about him felt off.
Unspoken. Unseen. But felt.
The door creaked open.
Everyone turned as Haru entered the room, accompanied by two quiet Yami guards. His posture was composed, yet there was a stillness to him—like the eye of a storm. The air around him felt heavier, as if the remnants of something ancient followed in his wake.
The moment Haru stepped in, Shidou's eyes snapped wide open.
Alert. Focused.
His entire demeanor changed in an instant—like a switch had been flipped.
There he was.
The target.
Chernobog's vessel.
The very reason Kuzu Endo had brought him back from the dead.
But Shidou caught himself.
Too sharp. Too fast.
He quickly relaxed his face, sinking back into the guise of the wounded, nostalgic mentor.
"Slow... slow and steady," a flat voice echoed in his mind—Kuzu Endo's voice.
"Your purpose is not to kill. Not yet. Gain trust. Retrieve the vessel."
Shidou's lips moved, murmuring under his breath:
"The time will come… when I retrieve Haru—Chernobog's vessel."
He looked up and smiled, convincingly human.
Haru stopped a few steps from the bed. His sharp eyes studied the man lying before him—burned, scarred, and yet… familiar from stories alone.
Shidou looked up and offered a faint, practiced nod.
"You must be Haru."
Haru returned the gesture, his voice calm.
"And you must be Shidou."
A brief pause.
"I've heard a lot about you."
Shidou's expression softened, the tone of a seasoned mentor laced into his words.
"Likewise. Though… we never crossed paths before today."
Haru's eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing the sincerity of the moment.
"Strange how the world works."
Shidou chuckled—quiet, hollow.
"Stranger every day."
Behind them, Kimikage and Katakuichi stood tense, their eyes locked on the man they'd once mourned. Neither spoke, but a quiet ache lingered in their expressions. The sight of their former sensei, alive and breathing, was too much to process all at once.
And at the back of the room, Gaki watched.
Silent. Still.
His eyes didn't leave Shidou for a second.
Because something wasn't right. And Gaki knew it.
This was Shidou…
But it wasn't him.
In a darkened chamber far from the village, Kuzu Endo stood before a shimmering black mirror—an arcane device that reflected not his own face, but the room in the infirmary. Shadows flickered within the glass as if alive.
His eyes were cold, calculating.
A faint smile crept across his lips as he watched the fragile reunion unfold.
"Everything is going according to plan," he murmured softly.
The puppet he had resurrected—Shidou—played his role perfectly, fooling even the closest friends.
The trust has been seeded. The cracks will grow.
Endo's fingers brushed the surface of the mirror, sending ripples through the dark reflection.
"Haru will never suspect a thing," he said, voice barely more than a whisper.
"And when the time comes… I will have him right where I want him."
The room around Endo was filled with relics pulsing faintly with dark energy. Shadow relics—unbreakable, eternal—just like the plan that had been set in motion long ago.
He turned away from the mirror, eyes gleaming with cold certainty.
"Soon, the shadow demon will be free."
"And the world will be erased."
Nothing could stop what was coming.
Not even the strongest of bonds.
Not even sensei Shidou.
Because he was no longer Shidou at all.
He was Endo's weapon.
His puppet.
His shadow.
And the true battle was only beginning.
The outcasts roared in approval, fists punching the air, their chants echoing through the trees.
"Endo! Endo! Endo!"
In that moment, under the veil of night and flame, they were no longer outcasts. They were the harbingers of a new era—a dark legion bound to their master's will.
And Kuzu Endo stood tall among them, the twisted heart of the coming apocalypse.
Endo's lips curled into a cruel smile.