Chaos roared even louder through the Holy Land.
What had begun as rebellion and sabotage had now spiraled into something uglier—something raw and personal.
Saint Charlos, the living embodiment of entitlement and cruelty, screamed and flailed as he demanded the impossible: that Princess Shirahoshi of the Ryugu Kingdom be seized and dragged away to become his personal slave.
The echoes of his voice cut through the already burning city like poison.
While nobles fled and slaves ran, another battle continued not far from the spectacle—one far less public, yet no less violent.
The twin brothers still clashed.
Stone shattered beneath their feet as they exchanged blows, haki crashing against haki, the air itself trembling under the pressure. Yet as the fight dragged on, the truth became undeniable.
Kaito was winning.
Not through brute force alone, but through control—through a refinement born of years spent in the shadows, fighting not for glory, but for change.
Takeshi launched himself forward again, anger fueling his movement, haki surging violently into his arm as he twisted his body into the strike.
Takeshi: Pressure fang!
The punch tore through the air with explosive force.
And just like it would one month later—against Hirito—it failed completely.
Kaito caught the attack.
His hand, coated in hardened haki, closed around his brother's fist mid-strike. The impact stopped dead, shockwaves rippling outward as Takeshi's eyes widened in disbelief.
Then Kaito released his power.
He drove Takeshi into the ground with a force that shattered the cobblestone beneath them, cracking the earth outward in jagged fractures. The vice admiral's breath was ripped from his lungs as pain exploded through his body.
But the revolutionary didn't stop.
His fist surged again, haki condensing tighter, denser, more refined. He lifted his arm, mirroring Takeshi's stance perfectly.
Kaito: like this right, guess we do think alike
The resemblance was undeniable now—not just in appearance, but in motion.
Kaito: Piercing... crash!
His fist slammed into the center of Takeshi's chest.
The ground detonated.
Stone, dust, and debris blasted outward as blood sprayed from Takeshi's mouth. His body went limp against the cratered earth, vision blurring as he struggled to breathe.
Kaito straightened and stepped back, looking down at his brother.
Takeshi glared up at him, anger and pain twisting together.
Takeshi: How... could you. We... had so many things we were going to do together.
For a brief moment, they looked identical—same hair, same eyes, same blood.
Kaito's expression softened, just slightly.
Kaito: because to you, the world is black with patches of white, but to me, it's entirely grey
Memories flashed—two boys laughing, training, growing stronger side by side. Brothers who once shared dreams, before the world tore them apart.
Kaito: I've seen what truly happens in this world. The things the World Government ignores. The things you've only heard about.
