The Last Bargain

Chapter XV: The Keeper Of Balance

The darkness of the temple seemed to deepen as Zento, Shin, and Raito moved further in. The blue flames on the walls flickered erratically, casting long, dancing shadows that stretched and warped across the ancient stone. The air grew heavier, almost suffocating, and Zento could feel an unseen presence pressing down on them, watching their every move.

They reached the center of a vast, circular chamber. The ceiling stretched high above them, lost in shadow, and at the chamber's heart stood a large, glowing crystal set upon a pedestal. The crystal pulsed with a rhythmic light, like a heartbeat, and an eerie silence settled over the room. The very air felt charged, humming with an unseen power.

Raito stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. "This is it," he said quietly. "The heart of the temple... where the gods' intentions are laid bare."

Zento felt his pulse quicken. "Be ready," he whispered. "I don't think we're alone."

As if in answer, the crystal flared brightly, and a figure materialized before them, stepping out of the light. It was tall and cloaked in deep blue robes that seemed to shimmer like the night sky. Its face was a blur, shifting constantly, like a reflection in disturbed water, but its eyes—its eyes were fixed and clear, burning with an intense, knowing light.

"I am Yomi," the figure spoke, its voice calm but resonant, echoing off the walls. "The Keeper of Balance, the Judge of Humanity."

Zento swallowed, feeling the weight of those words settle over him like a shroud. He stepped forward. "We've come to ask why," he said, his voice steady. "Why have you decided that humanity must be erased?"

Yomi's gaze seemed to pierce through him, like a knife cutting through to his soul. "Why?" it repeated softly. "You, who are mortal, ask why the gods would wish to undo their mistake?"

Shin clenched his fists. "Mistake?" he echoed. "What mistake?"

Yomi's face shifted, its expression unreadable. "The gods gave you gifts—abilities beyond the natural order, meant to elevate your kind, to test your worthiness. But instead, you have used them to deceive, to harm, to claim dominion over what was never yours. Humanity is a race of liars, of schemers. You sow chaos wherever you tread."

Raito's eyes sharpened, his expression turning thoughtful. "So, you think we're beyond redemption?" he asked, his voice calm but probing.

Yomi nodded slowly. "Yes. For centuries, we watched and hoped that you might learn, that you might rise above your base instincts. But every generation falls into the same patterns—lies, war, greed. Your kind cannot be trusted with the power you've been given. The balance has been shattered, and the only way to restore it is to erase the mistake."

Zento felt a surge of frustration. "That's not fair," he argued. "Not all of us are like that. Some of us have used our abilities for good, to protect, to heal. Should they be punished because others have failed?"

Yomi's eyes flickered with a strange light, a mixture of pity and disdain. "The few who shine do not outweigh the many who cast shadows," it replied. "The balance must be restored, and that means all must answer for the sins of the whole."

Shin took a step forward, his voice filled with urgency. "But you're judging us without giving us a chance to change, to prove ourselves. You've already decided we're unworthy."

Yomi's gaze shifted to Shin, and for a moment, Zento thought he saw a flicker of sadness in those ancient eyes. "It is not judgment," Yomi said softly. "It is reality. You lie to yourselves, you lie to each other. Even now, in your hearts, you doubt your own purpose. You seek the truth, but are blinded by your own arrogance."

Raito's face grew darker, his eyes narrowing. "You think all humans are liars?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. "That we're incapable of truth?"

Yomi's expression did not change. "From the moment you are born, you lie," it said. "You lie for comfort, for survival, for gain. Even those who seek to be honest deceive themselves with illusions of grandeur, of righteousness. Humanity's nature is contradiction; you speak of peace but crave war. You speak of love but harbor hate."

Raito's hand twitched, his eyes never leaving Yomi. Zento could see something flicker in his expression, a shadow of doubt that hadn't been there before.

Yomi continued, its voice unwavering. "You were given abilities to test your ability to uphold truth, to protect, to guide. But you have failed. Even you, Raito Kasetsu, with your power to see through all deception, cannot trust in your own kind. You know this to be true, for you have seen it with your own eyes."

Raito's jaw tightened. "Yes," he whispered, his voice strained. "I see it every day. People lying, betraying, pretending... It's endless."

Zento glanced at Raito, sensing the tension in his voice. "Raito, don't listen to this," he said urgently. "It's just trying to manipulate you, to turn you against us."

But Raito shook his head slowly. "No, Zento," he said softly. "It's not wrong... I've seen it all my life. The lies, the deceit... from the moment I could sense a lie, I knew that people couldn't be trusted. I've felt it... the hopelessness, the futility..."

Yomi's eyes brightened, sensing Raito's inner turmoil. "You understand, Raito," it said softly. "You know the truth. Humanity is flawed, inherently so. Join us. Help us restore balance. You, who see through every falsehood, know that this world is filled with lies."

Raito's hand began to tremble, his fingers twitching toward his side where his blade rested. Zento's heart pounded in his chest. "Raito, no," he pleaded. "You're better than this. You've seen the worst in people, but you've also seen the best. We can still change things. You don't have to give in to this."

Raito's eyes flickered, his hand quivering as he stared at Yomi. "Maybe... maybe it's not worth it," he whispered, his voice filled with doubt. "Maybe we are what they say we are..."

Yomi stepped closer, its form towering over them. "Make your choice, Raito Kasetsu," it urged. "Will you help restore order, or will you fall with the rest of them?"

Zento felt a chill run down his spine. He could see Raito wavering, his inner conflict tearing him apart. "Raito," Zento said softly, "think of the future you wanted, the truth you sought. Don't let them take that away from you. Don't let them decide what you are."

Raito's hand trembled, caught between reaching for his blade or letting it fall. His face was tight with anguish, his eyes locked onto Yomi's.

The chamber seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his decision.

Would Raito betray them? Would he succumb to the gods' logic, or would he remember the flicker of hope that had brought them this far?

The choice was his. And it would change everything.