The Memory of Ghosts.

The sound of metal against metal was deafening, competing with the thunder tearing through the sky above the ruined city.

Kyosuke moved like a dancer in the middle of a hurricane. His silver chains, imbued with his Kijin Essence, created a defensive dome around him. "Tsk!" Kyosuke clicked his tongue, deflecting a blast of wind.

Fortunately for him, Natsuki's fighting style required a certain proximity to be lethal, but Kyosuke's chains acted as long-range whips, keeping her at bay. However, the situation was far from favorable. Every time his chains blocked Natsuki's Tessen fans, Kyosuke felt a brutal vibration travel up the metal, through his arms, and explode in his shoulders. He felt immense pressure in his bones, as if he were hitting a mountain and not a slender girl. Damn it, Kyosuke thought, feeling his joints creak under the stress. So this is the strength of the creature who crushed Natasha? Her strikes aren't normal; her aura is heavy, dense... if I let my guard down for a second, my bones will turn to dust.

Natsuki, for her part, seemed amused. She jumped from rubble to rubble, launching blasts of compressed air with her fans. "You're good, four-eyes," she mocked. "But you'll tire out sooner or later."

Kyosuke saw an opening. In a momentary lapse, Natsuki stepped in a puddle of oil mixed with water, losing traction for a fraction of a second. "Now!" Kyosuke shouted.

The chains came to life, moving like silver cobras. They coiled around Natsuki's ankles and waist before she could jump. "Got you!"

With a roar of effort, Kyosuke pulled on the chains, hurling Natsuki into the leaden sky. The girl flew several meters up, surprised. Kyosuke didn't let go. He jumped after her, using the chains to propel himself and position himself right above her in the air. "Secret Technique: Steel Lotus Drop!"

Kyosuke spun in mid-air, using centrifugal force and gravity to his advantage. He wrapped Natsuki in a cocoon of chains and plunged downward at breakneck speed. They fell like a silver meteor. Just before impact, Kyosuke released himself and jumped back.

BOOOOOOM! Natsuki slammed into the hard pavement of the avenue. The ground shattered into a crater five meters in diameter, sending up a cloud of wet dust and pulverized asphalt.

Kyosuke landed panting near where Natasha was, taking advantage of those few seconds of respite. He looked at his friend, who was still kneeling, her gaze lost in nothingness. Kyosuke's frustration boiled over. "Hey!" he yelled, walking toward her. "Well? How much longer are you planning to lie there? If I recall correctly, you were the one who disobeyed Kaori's direct orders and came out here alone to deal with her."

Natasha slowly looked up. Her eyes were empty, devoid of the warrior's glint she once had. "B-but... my sister... she..." she stammered, her voice broken.

Kyosuke had no patience for gentle compassion. Sometimes, to save someone, you have to be harsh. He raised his leg and gave her a sharp kick to the shoulder, hard enough to knock her sideways onto the wet ground. "Snap out of it, damn it!" Kyosuke yelled at her, pointing at the smoking crater. "Do you really think your sister, the person you loved, would be willing to kill you? That thing is not your family! It's a monster wearing her face!"

Before Natasha could process the pain or the words, laughter emerged from the dust. "Ouch... that hurt a little."

Natsuki emerged from the crater. Her kimono was torn and dirt smudged her face, but she didn't seem to have any broken bones. She cracked her neck casually. "Damn... she's tough," Kyosuke said, assuming a fighting stance again.

But then, the scene changed. From the dark alleys, from the broken windows of buildings, and from the sewers, figures began to emerge. They shuffled forward. Dozens of them. Hundreds. They wore tattered military uniforms, civilian clothes from years past, or Kijin Organization suits. They were the "Traitor Humans" from the report. Controlled corpses.

Kyosuke, focused on Natsuki, didn't immediately notice how close they were to Natasha. "Natasha, get up!" Kyosuke shouted, trying to run toward her.

But Natsuki blocked his path, unfurling her fans. "Ah, no, no, no," she said with a cruel smile. "You play with me. Let my little sister play with my pets."

Kyosuke launched his chains, but Natsuki blocked them. He was trapped in his own duel.

Natasha, lying on the ground from Kyosuke's kick, slowly got to her knees again. Her katana lay in front of her, gleaming on the wet ground. Her hands trembled. Her heart wavered. Around her, the guttural groans of the undead drew closer. They were a tide of rotten flesh.

In her mind, Natasha was somewhere else. A dark and silent place. She was conflicted, emotions she thought she'd buried under layers of ice resurfacing. Why? she wondered, looking at the reflection of her dirty face in the katana's blade. Are we cursed? Do we Japanese bear some ancestral sin, and is this the punishment? She looked at the monsters approaching. She didn't feel fear. She felt resignation. Maybe... I'm the one to blame. I couldn't save my sister that time. I couldn't save my parents. I'm weak. I don't deserve to live. I should die right here and end this pain.

An undead creature, a former soldier with a dislocated jaw, reached her. It was inches away. It raised a dirty, clawed hand to tear out her throat. Natasha closed her eyes, awaiting the end.

THWACK. A wet sound. Then, the thud of something hitting the ground. Natasha opened her eyes. The undead's head had rolled to her knees. The decapitated body fell to the side. Natasha blinked, confused. Who...? Who did that?

She looked at her right hand. Her fingers were closed firmly around the hilt of her katana. The blade was stained with fresh black blood. Did I...? But she hadn't ordered her body to move. She didn't want to defend herself.

Another undead lunged at her from the left. Without her consciously thinking, her body reacted. A twist of the hips, a flick of the wrist. THWACK. Another clean cut. Another head on the ground.

"Why...?" Natasha whispered, watching as her own body rejected the death her mind desired.

A more agile creature jumped at her. Instinctively, Natasha leaped backward, dodging the claws by millimeters, landing gracefully three meters away. Her breathing grew ragged. She felt disconnected, like a spectator inside her own skin. One after another, the undead attacked. One after another, Natasha killed them.

"Why do I keep fighting?" she asked aloud, decapitating two enemies with a single circular slash. "I want to die! Let me die!"

But her body didn't stop. Years of hellish training, thousands of hours of survival, had etched something into the deepest part of her being: the instinct to live.

And then, in the midst of that dance, images began to assault her mind. She saw Ken's stupid, bright smile. Why does he always smile, even though he lost his brother? Why does he keep moving forward? She saw Kaori's face in the command room. A woman with no physical strength, who bears the weight of thousands of lives, and yet doesn't tremble. She looked at Kyosuke, fighting to the death against a superior monster just to buy time for her. Why is he helping me? If I'm a burden...

Suddenly, she felt a weight on her back. It wasn't physical. It was warm. It felt as if many hands rested on her shoulders, pushing her forward. She closed her eyes for a second and saw them. The blurred but smiling faces of her old squad. The boys and girls the Regent had massacred years ago. Her friends. They weren't there to judge her. They were there to support her.

"If I die here..." Natasha thought, and the realization hit her harder than any physical blow. "If I die... no one will remember them. Their names, their laughter, their sacrifices... will disappear in the rain. I am their memory. I am their tomb of memories."

The confusion in her eyes dissipated. The ice freezing her heart shattered, not from fear, but from a scorching heat.

"Guys..." Natasha whispered. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, mixing with the rain and blood, but her expression was no longer one of defeat. "Forgive me... I've been a fool all this time."

She gripped the katana's hilt so tightly her knuckles turned white. The purple aura, which had been dim, erupted around her body again, brighter and more violent than ever. She looked up at the gray sky, letting the rain wash away her doubts.

"I can't die," she said, and this time her voice sounded firm, cold, and lethal. "I have to survive. For you."

Natasha lowered her gaze to the horde of undead. She no longer saw monsters. She saw obstacles. And she was ready to sweep them all away.