The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception—an ability as terrifying as it is absolute.
Those who wield it can see the "lines of death" that course through all things, be they objects, beings, or even intangible concepts like futures and memories. A single stroke along these lines brings instant and irreversible destruction.
Among those who possess this ability, none surpass the Two Rites. Even that which exists beyond the physical—concepts woven into the fabric of reality—can be undone with a mere gaze.
If this power could be paired with an enhanced body…
Hoo—
Shen He exhaled deeply, steadying his mind.
The girl before him, the Two Rites, was already wearing the virtual helmet. With a quick mental command, he summoned Kusuo Saiki, then placed another helmet over his own head.
"Let's begin."
Darkness swallowed his senses. Sight and sound faded, replaced by a new world pouring into his consciousness.
An endless grassland stretched before him, basked in golden sunlight. Dressed in a simple white robe, Shen He immediately spotted a figure standing amidst the wind-blown plains—a girl clad in a crimson kimono.
His heartbeat slowed, the tension within him dissolving into quiet relief.
Stepping forward, he closed the distance between them. The girl, standing still, met his gaze with eyes filled with quiet confusion.
After all, she had just emerged from an eternity of nothingness.
"Hello, Two Rites."
His voice broke the silence.
"Where is this?"
Her response was calm, even distant. Cold, yet unmistakably her.
Good. This was the Two Rites he remembered.
"A virtual world," Shen He explained. "A digital construct. Using brainwave transmissions, this world communicates with your mind. Your body remains asleep, but I brought your consciousness here."
He hesitated briefly.
"Do you… understand what happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
She had fragments of knowledge, residual traces from the endless void that had once imprisoned her. But full comprehension eluded her.
"I don't mean the situation itself," Shen He clarified, lowering his gaze slightly. "I mean… your other self. You're alone now."
The girl named "Two Rites" had always been two—[Rites] and [Weaving]. One feminine, warm, and reserved. The other masculine, impulsive, and aggressive. Two halves of a whole.
But after the accident, only [Rites] remained.
The girl blinked, processing his words.
She understood, yet she didn't.
Memories of the past remained intact, yet they felt distant, as though they belonged to someone else. Looking back at her former self, she felt more like an observer than the person who had once lived those experiences.
Even her own name—Two Rites—felt like it belonged to a stranger.
"There's an emptiness inside you now," Shen He said, his tone steady but gentle. "Before, you had two identities—[Rites] and [Weaving]. But now, only [Rites] remains. That's why your memories feel disconnected. You don't recognize them as your own, because they were once shared between two minds."
He paused before continuing.
"But this isn't the end. The void inside you can be filled with new memories. That's what [Weaving] would have wanted—don't let his sacrifice be in vain."
Would she understand?
Shen He didn't know.
But he felt compelled to say it.
He understood all too well—the struggle of trying to reconcile a self that no longer exists, of grasping at the past while drowning in the present. He wanted to pull her from that suffocating abyss.
"You seem to know me well," Two Rites remarked, her gaze drifting across the artificial landscape. "That's strange. I have no memory of you. Or… are you just an illusion? A product of my imagination?"
Shen He smiled.
"Then treat this as an illusion."
Lifting his arms, he let the world around them shift.
The wind carried with it a transformation—rolling grasslands giving way to towering trees, the rustling of leaves blending with birdsong. The air smelled of autumn, tinged with the scent of maple leaves as they drifted lazily from the canopy. A crystal-clear lake reflected the golden light of the sun, and an elegant wooden pagoda stood at its edge.
Amidst this serene backdrop, the girl in the crimson kimono stood with quiet grace. Her raven-black hair danced in the breeze, accentuating the ethereal beauty of the scene.
"Beautiful places make for better training grounds," Shen He mused, admiring the picturesque moment.
The Two Rites was an anomaly—a girl with a dignified, almost regal presence, yet carrying the aloofness of one who had walked between worlds. She embodied contradictions, something both ancient and unshakably modern. A living paradox.
And that, perhaps, was what fascinated him most about her.
"For now, I'll leave you to rest. The attic has food and water. If you need anything, press the contact button at the lower right of your vision."
He offered a respectful bow, as if addressing nobility.
"I'll return soon."
With a press of the exit command, his form shimmered, dissolving into motes of light.
---
The moment Shen He removed his helmet, his mind lingered in that world of maple leaves and quiet conversation.
It was worth it.
"Did anything change?" He turned to Kusuo Saiki.
"Yes. Her heart rate increased by 12%, her fingers twitched eight times, and she moved one arm. It seems she's close to waking up."
Shen He clenched his fist in triumph.
If Tony's theory was correct, continued use of the virtual helmet would keep stimulating her cognitive functions. Before long, she would wake from her deep slumber.
After that day, Shen He added a new task to his daily routine.
Between dungeon raids, training Violet to speak, and preparing coffee pudding for Kusuo Saiki, he would always return to the virtual world.
There, he would speak to Two Rites.
He called it "giving her new memories."
She called it "a quiet, comfortable existence."
Within the virtual realm, there was peace. Beauty. A sense of tranquility untouched by past burdens. There were no ghosts of memory, no expectations—only the present.
And each day, Shen He came back with new words.
He spoke of allies and battles, of the outside world and its chaos, of trivial things like dessert recipes. He altered the scenery constantly—taking her from cherry blossom gardens to stormy oceans, from snow-covered temples to the neon-lit streets of Tokyo.
A simulated world where she could wander freely.
At first, she thought little of it. But over time, she found herself waiting for his arrival.
Then came the day everything changed.
"It's time to leave the hospital," Shen He announced, offering her a cup of steaming tea on the peak of Mount Tai.
She accepted the tea with a small smirk.
"If this is a hospital, patients would do everything to stay sick."
"That won't do. Hospitals are for healing. And you, my dear Two Rites, are healed."
There was no authority in his words, no command—just an unshakable certainty.
It reminded her of someone from her past. Someone who spoke with that same unwavering confidence.
And, for reasons she couldn't explain, she didn't like it.
"Shen He, I hate your tone."
Her words were blunt. Honest.
Shen He, however, merely smiled.
"That's fine." Then, in a more serious voice, he added, "But I need you. I need your eyes—the eyes that see [death]."
Yesterday, Mjolnir fell to Earth.
That could only mean one thing.
The events of Asgard were about to begin.