Peakwest 2 : Berserk, Blood And Peace

૮ɦαρƭε૨ 228

P͟e͟a͟k͟w͟e͟s͟t͟ 2͟  | ѕσυℓ вιи∂ιиg

𝔸𝕣𝕔 : 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝔹𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘

____________________________________

[ 𝔸𝕣𝕔 ℕ𝕠. 𝟠 : 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝔹𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 ]

𝔸𝕣𝕔 ℕ𝕠. 𝟠 : 「魂の注入束縛」

(Tamashī no chūnyū sokubaku).

Yuki’s frantic eyes scanned the battlefield, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Yuki: "Where’s Alan?"

Mike, his face pale with worry and confusion, kept looking around.

Mike: "He disappeared!"

"He was just here... with me."

"I don’t know if someone took him or—"

Before he could finish, Ace pointed ahead, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Ace: "There!"

"Alan!"

Everyone turned to see Alan, bloody but determined, limping toward Muzan from behind.

His face was filled with fierce resolve.

He was going to kill Muzan.

Alan thinks,

"Phoibos."

"Your death is here."

He grits his teeth to his core.

"DIEEEEEEE!!!!"

Akshat noticed Alan’s approach and shouted out in panic.

Akshat: "Muzan!!"

"Behind you!"

Muzan turned slowly, his face expressionless, showing no concern.

Muzan thinks,

"Not now, Esme."

Without hesitation, he thrust his sword straight through Alan’s stomach, stabbing him.

Time seemed to freeze as darkness fell upon the scene.

Alan's body trembled as his eyes rolled back and closed, his form collapsing in a heap at Muzan’s feet.

Mike’s scream broke through the silence.

Mike: "ALAN!!!"

Ace: "ALAN!"

Yuki: "What the hell is happening!?"

Greymor exhaled in a mock sigh of relief, a twisted grin on his face.

Greymor: "Finally... killed."

Muzan’s gaze remained cold as he glanced at Greymor.

Muzan: "Use the technique."

Greymor’s smirk widened, intrigued.

Greymor: "Are you sure?"

Muzan nodded with certainty, his voice commanding.

Muzan: "We don’t leave room for mistakes and miracles."

"Do it."

Akshat’s heart raced as realization struck him.

Akshat (thinking): "The Immobile Soul technique..."

"No... They’re going to trap Alan’s soul in his body forever."

"It’s not just death, it’s eternal imprisonment."

"A death with no escape."

His eyes widened in horror as he pieced it all together.

Akshat (thinking): "Why?"

"What does Muzan want with Alan?"

"Why is this so important to him?"*

Greymor knelt beside Alan’s lifeless body, looking back at Muzan for confirmation.

Muzan withdrew his sword from Alan’s body, letting the blood spill out as Greymor took hold of Alan by the waist.

Mike’s rage erupted, his fists shaking.

Mike: "No more!"

"This ends now!"

"MUZAN"

Mike, Ace, and Yuki all charged toward Greymor and Muzan, intent on stopping whatever cruel ritual they were preparing.

But before they could get close, a sudden burst of energy stopped them in their tracks.

"Celestial Dance."

Zakura appeared before them, her presence halting their advance as she stood in defense of Muzan and Greymor.

The trio stood frozen, helpless as the grim scene unfolded before their eyes.

Greymor's eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction as he turned his attention back to Alan.

His fingers danced methodically over Alan’s lifeless form, checking for any residual signs of life.

When he was sure Alan was dead, his smirk deepened.

Greymor: "It’s over."

He placed his fingers on Alan's throat, then his thumb over his nose.

Muzan watched from behind, growing impatient.

Muzan: "Make it quick."

Greymor responded with a nod.

Placing his hand over Alan’s chest, he whispered with finality.

Greymor: "Goodnight..."

"AlanJoel."

With a final, powerful press to the chest, Greymor completed the Immobile Soul technique.

Alan’s soul was sealed within his own body, locking him in an eternal prison of death with no possibility of resurrection.

Akshat stared in disbelief, barely able to process the horror.

Akshat: "They..."

"sealed him?"

Muzan, his face calm and cold, nodded approvingly at Greymor’s work.

Muzan: "Well done, Greymor."

Mike’s cry shattered the heavy silence once again.

Mike: "ALAN!!!"

Ace dropped to his knees, overcome with grief and helplessness.

Yuki stood motionless, his mind struggling to grasp the reality before him.

Yuki: "Is this..."

the end?"

[ Industry - Steel Packaging Corporation ( SPC ) ]

The scene began to darken as the focus shifted.

A different place emerged—a dark, grimy room filled with the stench of death.

Blood stained the floor, and a suffocating darkness clung to the walls.

In the center of the room sat a boy tied to a frail wooden chair.

His face was obscured by white hair that hung low, hiding his eyes.

His legs and hands were tied with iron chains making him inescapable.

The boy’s identity remained shrouded in shadow, but his presence was haunting, as if tied to the grim events unfolding outside.

The scene slowly faded to black.

Chapter End.