Chapter 25 : The Devil's favorite toy : part 3

The atmosphere in the cavern was thick with an unnerving stillness. Sora, battered and broken, lay crumpled on the cold stone floor, his body struggling to even take shallow breaths. His vision swam in and out of focus, pain shooting through his every muscle. Kurogami’s attack had been brutal, but Sora had no time to recover. His mind raced, heart pounding in fear, but the real terror wasn’t in his own body—it was in Mikuya.

She had fallen. Her body lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. But now… now, something was changing. A dark presence stirred from where she lay. Sora’s heart thudded in his chest, and he felt the air grow heavier. He blinked, struggling to focus, but before he could make sense of what was happening, Mikuya’s body began to shift.

Slowly, she rose.

But this wasn’t like before. Her movements were stiff, robotic almost, as if her body was no longer her own. Her eyes snapped open, and Sora’s stomach twisted in a way he couldn’t explain. The light that once filled her eyes was gone, replaced by an empty void—cold, dark, and hollow.

Mikuya.

“No…” Sora whispered, his voice hoarse and weak, as if his very breath was crushed by the weight of her presence.

Then, without warning, her body moved. Faster than Sora’s mind could process, Mikuya disappeared from his line of sight. In a blink, she was before Kurogami, her katana gleaming in the dim light. She swung it with terrifying precision, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp hiss, and Kurogami was knocked backward, blood splattering as the katana sliced through his side.

Kurogami grunted, pain flashing across his face, but a wicked smile quickly replaced it. “Ah, there it is,” he said, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “That’s more like it. I was wondering when you’d show me some fight!”

Sora’s heart dropped as Mikuya stood there, completely emotionless, her katana held firmly at her side. Her eyes—those empty, lifeless eyes—were locked onto Kurogami.

“I told you.” Her voice was cold, almost devoid of feeling. “Don’t speak his name.”

Kurogami grinned, clearly amused. “You really are something, aren’t you?” He chuckled darkly. “Not many people could make me bleed this much.”

His eyes danced with amusement and something else—something darker, a flicker of excitement. “But this… this is getting good.”

Mikuya didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. With a swift movement, she disappeared again, leaving nothing but the sound of her blade slicing through the air. Before Kurogami could react, she appeared behind him and slashed again, this time cutting across his back. He gasped in pain, staggering forward.

“What the hell are you?” Kurogami hissed, more annoyed than scared. “You’re just a kid, a little girl. How can you be doing this?”

Mikuya’s face remained unchanged. “I don’t want to hear you talk about my brother again.”

“Oh, so touchy,” Kurogami mocked, wiping blood from his cheek. “I love it. Keep going. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

He lunged at her, his dark energy flaring around him like a violent storm. His body was fast, but Mikuya was faster. In an instant, she was gone, reappearing behind him, striking him once more. This time, the blow struck deep, leaving a wide gash along his arm. He staggered back, growling in frustration.

“You really are insufferable.” Kurogami scowled, his voice growing darker. “I don’t know what you are, but I’ll break you eventually.”

Mikuya didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Her eyes were still dead, her face still neutral. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t hesitate. Her strikes were perfect—quick, precise, and relentless.

Sora watched in disbelief, his body aching as he struggled to stand. “What… happened to you, Mikuya?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He could feel it—the darkness radiating from her, an unnatural, suffocating force. It wasn’t just power. It was as though Mikuya herself had become something else entirely.

Kurogami, now visibly bleeding from multiple wounds, was beginning to look increasingly frustrated. His movements were sloppy, his attacks wild, but he couldn’t touch her. She was too fast, too precise.

“You really are something else, kid,” he spat, wiping the sweat from his brow. “But you’re not invincible. Nobody is. Not even you.”

Mikuya continued to move like a shadow, always one step ahead, her katana flashing in the dim light with every strike. Her body moved without hesitation, without emotion. Her every movement seemed to blur with the shadows, as if she were part of them.

“Why won’t you die?” Kurogami growled, frustration leaking into his voice.

Mikuya didn’t answer, but her eyes flickered momentarily. It wasn’t fear. It was cold, unyielding determination. She moved forward, her katana raised high.

Sora, still lying on the ground, felt a wave of dread sweep over him. He couldn’t move, not yet. But something inside him wanted to help her, wanted to stop the fight.

“Mikuya… stop…” he whispered, barely able to speak.

But she didn’t hear him. She was lost in the battle.

Kurogami lunged at her once more, but before he could land a blow, a masked figure appeared out of nowhere, leaping from the shadows. The figure grabbed Kurogami, pulling him away with surprising strength. Kurogami barely had time to react as the masked figure disappeared into the darkness, taking him with him.

“What the hell?!” Sora shouted, his heart racing. He tried to move, to stand, but his body refused to cooperate.

Mikuya stood there, her body covered in blood, her katana still at her side. She didn’t seem to acknowledge Sora.

He called her name again, but she didn’t respond. She just stood there, as if the battle had never happened.

“Mikuya!” Sora called again, his voice growing more frantic. “Are you okay?”

There was no answer.

Her face remained cold, her eyes still distant. She hadn’t moved. She just stared at the empty space in front of her, the same empty gaze she had when she had stood up.

Sora tried to crawl toward her, but the pain in his body made it almost impossible.

“Mikuya… please… you have to talk to me…”

She didn’t answer.

Sora finally managed to pull himself closer, reaching out with trembling hands. He checked her for wounds. She had been hurt badly. Blood stained her clothes, and her body was shaking slightly, but she was still standing. Still breathing.

"You’re hurt..." Sora murmured, wincing as he supported himself on one arm. "Mikuya... say something."

No response. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, distant and unfocused. There was no anger now. No rage. Just… silence.

“Mikuya,” he called again, softer this time. His voice cracked—not from fear, but from the weight of uncertainty.

Then—just for a moment—her head turned slightly. Her empty gaze shifted toward him.

He didn’t know if she could see him clearly. But somehow, she seemed to recognize his voice.

A faint breath escaped her lips. Not words. Just a soft exhale… like she was calming down.

Her knees gave out.

Sora’s eyes widened as he quickly moved forward, catching her before she hit the ground completely. Her head rested lightly against his shoulder.

“I got you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her carefully. His voice was low but steady. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay, alright? I promise.”

Her breathing was shallow, but steady. Her body was cold, and her grip on consciousness was slipping. But she had heard him.

And just before her eyes finally closed, the corners of her lips moved—barely.

She heard him. That was enough.

Sora looked down at her, worry tight in his chest. “You’ll wake up soon,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “I know you will.”

And in the quiet that followed, he sat there with her, holding onto that hope.