CHAPTER 18: THE SKY BLEEDS

"Why do you fight for them?"

Suguru Geto's voice was calm, even as the wind howled violently across the cratered plaza. His cursed energy rippled around him like a suffocating tide, dark and cold.

"You see them, don't you? Weak. Powerless. Blind to the world that surrounds them. They fear what they can't see, and they kill what they can't control."

Yuta stood motionless, katana drawn and pointed toward Geto.

"They're human," Geto said softly, almost mournfully. "But they don't deserve to be. We—we are sorcerers. We carry the weight of curses so they can live ignorantly. Why not build a world for us alone?"

His voice echoed with conviction, a twisted logic that stained the air.

But Yuta didn't flinch.

"I don't need your 'truth,'" he said. His voice cracked—but not with fear. With rage. "And I don't want your world."

"Then you're a fool," Geto hissed.

"No," Yuta growled. "I'm human. And I choose to protect them."

He raised his left hand.

"RIKA!!"

A horrific scream shattered the air as the monstrous Rika materialized behind him—eyes burning like furnaces, mouth open wide in a furious howl. Cursed energy surged like a stormfront, the ground shaking beneath their feet.

Yuta's cursed katana glowed as he clenched it tight.

And he charged.

Their blades clashed—metal singing with cursed energy. Yuta came with fury, sword swings laced with Rika's unrestrained power. Geto blocked with a cursed staff, barely dodging a swipe that tore a building's side off.

They moved like blurs—strike for strike, pan for pan.

The plaza crumbled beneath them as they traded blows, each one heavier than the last.

Yuta lunged, katana overhead—

Geto countered, sliding beneath and blasting him back with a cursed burst.

"Still so green," he mocked, panting slightly.

Yuta staggered, but Rika caught him, shielding him with her cursed mass.

"You can't beat me, Yuta," Geto said. "You're just a boy clinging to a ghost."

Yuta looked up, blood dripping from his lip.

"No…" he said, eyes locked in defiance. "I'm not clinging to Rika… I'm fighting for her."

And once more, he launched himself at Geto.

—

Elsewhere—

Lightning cracked over Tokyo's skyline.

On a rooftop where the wind howled like a banshee, Satoru Gojo stood with his arms bleeding, his coat tattered.

Mikkel collapsed to one knee before him, coughing, broken ribs vibrating with every breath.

Gojo's expression was deadly calm, a glow of blue cursed energy at his fingertips.

"I warned you," Gojo muttered coldly. "If you get in my way…"

He raised his hand.

"You. Die."

A brilliant flash illuminated the night sky.

And elsewhere, a battle between conviction and madness raged on.