The arena buzzed with a low, steady hum, the eerie glow of the holographic kageshikis flickering above. Their faces were distorted, shifting between shadow and light, their movements mechanical, stiff.
The sterile air was thick with tension, as though something far beyond the virtual battlefield was about to unfold.
Daigo stood, his body battered but still standing, a figure carved out of raw defiance. Blood trickled from a wound across his side, but he didn't notice the pain.
His eyes burned with an intensity that cut through the smoke and shadows. The weight of his choices pressed down on him, but the fire in his chest would never let him surrender.
One more fight. He told himself that, even though his body screamed otherwise. He wasn't here to win, not in the way they thought. He was here to prove something deeper, something beyond the boundaries of this arena.
A game of survival? No. This was a test of control, and Daigo had every intention of winning it on his terms.
"Nice,"Daigo muttered to himself, eyes flicking to the pulsating badge on his chest. The device glowed brighter, a pulse of energy surging through his veins. The cut on his side began to knit together.
He didn't need to rely on this device, but it was a tool—a means to an end. He was always looking for the edge. Always adapting.
"In our data, you're known as a crazy fighter," a voice echoed from the holographic kageshiki, its tone flat, emotionless. "But you don't look like one."
Daigo smirked, a grim curve of his lips. Crazy? Maybe he was. Maybe it was the only way to stay alive. Or maybe they were the ones who were crazy, thinking they could control him.
"You don't understand anything," Daigo whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible. But it was the truth he didn't want anyone to know. He wasn't here to fit anyone's expectations.
He wasn't the fool everyone thought he was. He played the role—lighthearted, carefree, always smiling—to keep them from seeing what lurked beneath. Because if they saw the cracks, they'd leave. And he couldn't have that.
For a moment, the cold emptiness of the arena seemed to close in around him. The face of Reika flashed in his mind—her cold, calculating gaze never leaving him. She didn't need anyone. She didn't care.
But the others—his friends—they needed him to be something else. Something bright. Something they could cling to when the world around them turned to darkness.
Daigo gritted his teeth, pushing the thought away. This wasn't about them. It was about him. About the choice he made long ago.
The glow of the holographic kageshikis swirled around him like a silent audience, watching, waiting. But Daigo wasn't just a fighter. He was a chess master, and this was his game. The constructs before him were nothing but obstacles, pawns to be swept away.
The first kageshiki lunged, its blade coming at him with sharp precision. It was fast, too fast for most. But Daigo wasn't like most. His eyes locked onto the incoming strike, his mind already calculating the trajectory.
Without even flinching, Daigo sidestepped, the blade missing him by inches. He twisted, the tip of his sword flashing in the air as he struck with lethal precision. A single swipe was all it took. The construct's form splintered, its red wires unraveling, its body glitching out of existence.
Daigo didn't even pause to watch it fade. He was already moving again, his feet light on the ground, calculating every move.
The next kageshiki came at him with a flurry of fast, mechanical strikes. But Daigo was faster. His sword cut through the air in a series of fluid motions, each strike calculated, each parry instinctive.
The holographic construct swung at him with precision, but it was always one step behind.
His mind raced. His body was exhausted, every muscle screaming for rest, but he refused to give in. This was just another puzzle to solve. Another problem to outwit. He didn't need to be the strongest—he just needed to be the smartest.
Another kageshiki swung down, its blade aiming for Daigo's head. He ducked, his sword arcing upwards in a deadly strike.
The blade connected with a resounding crack, slicing through the construct's neck. The kageshiki's head spun off, its body crumpling to the ground.
"Not bad," Daigo muttered, barely breaking a sweat. The fight was getting interesting now. The remaining kageshikis were more unpredictable, their movements sharper, more refined.
They were adapting to his tactics. But so was Daigo. He could see the way they shifted, the way they tried to outsmart him. It wasn't enough.
He could feel their eyes on him—silent, watching.
But Daigo was never the type to let anyone else control the narrative. He'd already seen the weaknesses in their design. He could predict their next moves before they even made them.
Another kageshiki attacked, this one faster than the others. Its movements were almost fluid, too close to real.
But Daigo had already anticipated the strike. He sidestepped once more, his sword flicking up to meet the construct's. The force of the clash vibrated through his arm, but Daigo remained steady, unfazed.
"Don't dare compare yourselves to humans,"Daigo spat, his voice cold. His grin twisted with something darker. "You were made by who? Humans? Pathetic."
With a swing of his sword, he severed the construct's arm, and it faltered, its body glitching as its wires snapped. Daigo didn't wait for it to fade; he was already onto the next one.
The fight was a blur of flashes—sword against sword, Daigo's body a blur of fluid motion as he evaded, attacked, countered, always two steps ahead. His strikes were surgical, precise. He wasn't just defeating the kageshikis.
He was dismantling them, showing them how little they mattered.
A deafening clang echoed through the arena as Daigo's blade clashed against another kageshiki. For a brief moment, their swords locked, the sounds of their struggle filling the empty space.
Daigo didn't hesitate. His mind was calculating, every second of the fight turning into an advantage.
He pushed the construct back with a single movement, stepping forward with ruthless precision.
His sword moved like an extension of his body, each strike landing with deadly accuracy. One after another, the holographic kageshikis fell, their forms glitching and shattering into nothingness.
The final construct stood, a flicker of defiance in its glowing eyes. It charged at Daigo, faster than before. But Daigo was already moving.
The air around him seemed to slow as he sidestepped the attack, his sword cutting through the kageshiki's body in a single, smooth motion. Its head tumbled off, its form disintegrating into the digital abyss.
Silence. The arena fell still, the glow of the shattered kageshikis fading into the dark.
Daigo stood alone, breathing heavily but calm, his sword dripping with the remnants of the battle.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes scanning the empty arena. But his mind wasn't on the fight. He wasn't thinking about victory or defeat. He was thinking about what came next.
"Congratulations,"a voice echoed from the wall, cold and indifferent. "You've been selected for the test."
Daigo's lips curled into a smirk. A test? He'd already passed every test they could throw at him. He was the one pulling the strings, the one in control. And he wasn't done yet.
He turned his gaze to the shadows, the flickering figures within. "Bring it on," Daigo muttered, his voice steady, cold. "I'm just getting started."
The true test was only beginning. And Daigo was ready. Always ready.