Memo 9.5: (R1)Nature of ones Bloodline.

“My bloodline,” Yuranu whispered, almost ashamed. “I was born a Viperian. It’s in me to strike, to coil, to spit venom whether I will it or not. It’s… what I am.” “Even if I try to be more than that, when cornered… I can’t stop it.” “Whenever I saw a creature weaker than me… I wouldn’t hesitate. I would eat. Tear them apart without a second thought. It wasn’t hunger, not really. It was the feeling—” She pressed a hand against her chest, fingers curling. “The rush. Securing the hunt. There’s a chemical that fires off in the brain when the predator wins. You can’t stop it. You don’t think about it. You just… do.”

Yuranu bared her teeth, but her voice cracked as she went on. “It’s not just instinct. It’s a compulsion. The urge runs through me like fire in my veins. A Viperian doesn’t choose to spit poison. She just… does. Even if it kills everything she ever wanted to hold onto.”

Riku’s body rippled,until the figure standing in front of Yuranu was… Yuranu herself. Her reflection hissed at her, baring fangs, tail lashing in the torchlight. “Well, look at me,” Riku taunted, voice pitched to mimic hers. “A little Viperian monster. Born to spit poison. Born to eat the weak. Can’t escape it, can you?” He slithered closer, mocking every subtle sway of her posture, every twitch of her jaw. “When you see prey, you salivate. When you smell fear, you smile. You’re a creature. And worse—” he leaned in, forked tongue flickering out as he hissed, “you like it.”

Nagisa’s stomach knotted. The sound of Yuranu’s own voice, warped and cruel, ricocheted against the walls. She could see Yuranu’s hands tremble, nails biting into her palms until they bled. Riku laughed, enjoying every second of the torment. “Oh, what’s wrong? Don’t like the mirror? Don’t like seeing what you really are?” Without warning, Yuranu’s tail snapped out from behind her like a whip, slamming into Riku’s side with a crack that sent him skidding across the floor. He struck the stone wall, the illusion unraveling as his borrowed face twisted back into his own.

I’m glad it’s you i'm against. If it had been that Demonill, I’d be bored out of my mind. But you…” His eyes gleamed as his body began to ripple again, shifting. “You’re fun. You’ve got history. And I’m going to pick you apart piece by piece.” His frame shrank, hair spilling over his shoulders, until he was someone else entirely — a boy Yuranu once knew. The lines of his jaw, the tilt of his smirk, even the scar on his cheek. “Remember him?” Riku crooned in a voice that wasn’t his own. “The one you swore you’d never harm. The one you said you’d protect, no matter what. You wanted to believe you were more than your instincts back then too, didn’t you?

Yuranu’s fists shook at her sides. “Stop.”

Riku leaned forward, savoring it. “Why would I stop? I haven’t even gotten to the good ones yet. So many ghosts in your past, Yuranu. And me? I can wear them all.”

His body twisted again, becoming a girl this time — younger, eyes wide with fear, trembling in the dim torchlight. Yuranu staggered back. Nagisa gasped, recognizing what she was seeing: Riku wasn’t just shifting into anyone. He was weaponizing memory. “You ate me, remember?” the little girl whimpered, words dripping with Riku’s venom. “You didn’t even think. One moment I was there… and the next, gone. And you liked it.”

Riku laughed, voice high and mocking in the girl’s form. Let’s peel you open. Let’s see what kind of monster you really are.”

A fist slammed into her jaw, the crack sharp against stone. She stumbled but didn’t raise her guard. Another blow followed, to her ribs, forcing the breath from her lungs. He was laughing between each strike, his glee bubbling like a child with a new toy. “Don’t you see?” he taunted, his voice shifting with each form. “You deserve this. Every face I wear, every punch I land—this is your truth hitting back. And I’m savoring every second.”

Yuranu dropped to one knee. Her lip split, blood dripping onto the cold floor. She made no move to retaliate. Her tail twitched behind her but remained still, coiled like a weapon denied its purpose.

Nagisa gripped her camera so tightly her knuckles whitened. She wanted to scream for Yuranu to fight back, but she could see it in her eyes: Yuranu wasn’t resisting out of weakness. She was choosing to take it.

Another punch. Riku’s knuckles split skin across her cheek. He laughed louder, exhilarated. “Come on! Where’s the poison now? Where’s the monster that rips and tears? Spit it at me, Yuranu! I want to see it!”

But Yuranu only sat there, blood trailing down her chin. Her voice came hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Oh, this is perfect. You’re choosing to suffer. You’re making it easier for me to drag every scar out of you.” He leaned down, fist cocked back, eyes gleaming. “Let’s see how long before you break.” And the blows continued, each one deliberate, each one soaked in his joy. Yuranu endured them all, trembling but unmoving, her shame and her restraint colliding in painful silence.

Nagisa wanted to scream for Yuranu to fight back, but she could see it in her eyes Yuranu wouldn't want her help. She wasn’t resisting out of weakness. She was choosing to take it.—Just for a moment—his footing faltered. His vision bent at the edges, the world tilting like a drunken carousel. He blinked, staggered, tried to realign. Yuranu didn’t move. She sat there, her golden slit eyes fixed on him, calm, patient. Her forked tongue flickered. Riku growled, forcing balance back into his stance. “What, why…?”

Her voice slithered into the space, low and steady:

"How can you be surprised? You know me, don’t you? You know everything, right?” Riku’s face shifted again—this time into a twisted grin of someone she once loved—before breaking, cracking under the sweat beading his forehead. His body pulsed, heavy.

Yuranu tilted her head, almost pitying.

"That one strike, at the start—" her tail flicked slowly, reminding him of the blindside hit she’d landed before his theatrics began. “ it's my venom. It’s been in your veins all this time, and I was just waiting it out..” She leaned forward, her pupils narrowing to slits. "You can wear my face all you like. But never have the blood of a Viperian.”

Riku staggered again, bile rising in his throat, his skin shivering as if it couldn’t decide what shape to hold. He spat a string of obscenities, half-slurred, half-snarled, his body lashing out with desperate swings that cracked against stone and air alike.

Yuranu rose slowly, fluid as a serpent uncoiling. Her fist lifted to her lips, and she pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Her eyes never left him. "Remember each punch you threw? Each face you mocked me with?” Her voice was silk sharpened on steel. “Well, now it's my turn.” She counted aloud, a venomous rhythm, each number punctuated by a strike:

"One." Her fist buried itself into his gut, folding him forward.

"Two." An elbow smashed across his jaw, sending him reeling sideways.

"Three." Her tail whipped behind her, striking like a battering ram, slamming Riku into the stone wall with a thunderous crack. Dust rained down as his body cratered against the surface. Yuranu stepped closer, her tongue flicking the air as she savored his faltering energy. She raised her hand again, curling her claws.

"Four…" Another blow sent him straight through the wall, rubble collapsing as his body was driven into the next chamber of the underground. She followed him through the broken stone, her steps deliberate, savoring every second of his unraveling.

"Five." Her knuckles gleamed with venomous sweat as she loomed over him, her calmness a chilling contrast to his stumbling rage.

"Six." Her clawed hand grabbed his neck and slammed him down, the floor cracking beneath the impact. His breath rattled, spittle spraying from his lips.

"Seven." She drove her knee into his ribs, the sharp crack of bone echoing through the underground. He gasped, eyes widening, venom threading deeper into his blood.

"Eight." A backhand sent him spiraling, blood streaking the wall as his body skipped across the stone like a broken doll.

"Nine." Yuranu’s tail coiled around his waist, lifting him like prey. With a flick, she whipped him against the wall, the stone splintering with each collision until his body went limp in her hold.

She stepped forward as she whispered the final word.

"Ten." Her fist drove into his chest with crushing force, the venom laced within blooming fully—his scream tearing through the chamber, jagged, inhuman, his shifting form breaking apart as the poison disrupted everything that held him together.

Riku lay sprawled in the rubble, twitching, his body struggling to stabilize as the venom gnawed through him. His shifting forms flickered erratically—half Yuranu, half unrecognizable faces from her past, each one collapsing in on itself.

Yuranu exhaled, rolling her shoulders back as though she had just finished stretching. A faint smile curled at her lips.

"Phew," she said, brushing a fleck of blood from her knuckles. "That was a good stress relief." She looked down at him, tilting her head like a predator deciding what to do with prey it no longer needed to kill. "We’ll keep him around for that." Her voice carried a mix of amusement and disdain. "A living punching bag always has its uses… don’t you think?"

Nagisa putting her thumbs up being delighted in doing so. And they head upstairs the the next battle.