Tokyo, Japan.
At Tokyo University, Gakuen-sai's night.
June 18th, 2026
10:03 PM 21° Celsius/69.8° Fahrenheit
The smoke finally began to lift.
Fingers of wind pulled away the thick fog like a curtain unveiling an opera of violence. Shadows sharpened. Blood glistened. The silence cracked under the slow, metallic echoes of footsteps.
When the last of the smoke cleared...
Izanami stood tall.
Her hooded silhouette like a phantom over a field of corpses.
At her feet… knelt Ray, bloodied, breathing heavily, one hand bracing his knee.
She was guarding him.
Her daggers dripped red. Her cloak fluttered gently in the wind. Eyes narrowed beneath her hood, locked on the enemies ahead.
Across from her, Ryuji's chest heaved.
"FUCK YOU!!" he roared, eyes blazing with fury and humiliation.
Then he charged, his sais raised, aura flaring, screaming like a beast unchained.
But Izanami wasn't fazed.
She moved like a gust of highland wind, spinning, ducking, countering his attack with inhuman precision. Steel met steel with a shriek, sparks flying.
Ray rose. Slowly, painfully. But his presence returned like a growing storm.
He didn't speak.
He just moved.
Izanami countered another slash from Ryuji.
,and Ray appeared from the side, slamming a kick into Ryuji's ribs mid-motion, a perfect tag-team assault.
Ryuji stumbled back, caught off guard by the synchronized brutality.
"They're fighting as one," Maria muttered, katana trembling slightly in her grasp.
She was tired. Bleeding. This wasn't going according to plan.
"NOW!" Maria commanded.
She charged. The remaining Yakuza foot soldiers, though hesitant, followed behind her with screams of desperation. A final assault.
Ray and Izanami didn't hesitate.
They charged too.
Clash.
Steel. Flesh. Rage.
Izanami spun and carved a man open with a single arc of her dagger. Ray broke another's arm with his bare hands, twisting and slamming him to the ground.
Blood sprayed. Bones cracked. The ground grew slick with red.
Ray took a slash to his shoulder, grunted, grabbed the attacker's wrist, and bit his neck like an animal, spitting blood as he threw the body away.
"Keep your left clear!" Izanami barked.
Ray pivoted, barely dodging a blade, then retaliated with a savage elbow and stabbed the attacker with their own knife.
Ryuji was back on his feet.
Snarling. Blood on his lip. Eyes manic.
"KILL THEM ALL!!" he roared.
But then,
everything changed again.
Above. On the balcony.
Kojima and the mysterious masked woman stood in disbelief.
Gunshots.
Two quick bursts.
Kojima's shoulder jerked back, hit.
The woman gasped, staggered as blood bloomed across her ribs.
They turned,
Dozens of soldiers.
Black armor. Helmets. Precision rifles.
And based on their uniforms....
Chinese Special Forces...
The Matriarch, Risa Rourke's toy soldiers.
They moved in perfect formation—swift, silent, ruthless. They didn't yell.
They didn't warn.
They were already aiming again.
"Shit." the masked woman whispered, voice cracking.
"SHIT!!"
She never saw this coming.
They didn't expect another force is backing up Ray. Hell, they didn't even know Izanami existed, except for the masked mysterious woman.
Kojima growled in pain, rage taking over.
He didn't think—he charged.
"DIE!!" he screamed, pulling two pistols from his jacket and firing like a madman.
Bullets met armor.
One soldier fell.
But then the rest returned fire.
Kojima vanished in a storm of lead.
The masked woman staggered back, clutching her side. She watched Kojima disappear into the fray below, unsure if he was alive or already dying.
She blinked.
Everything was spiraling.
Ray was supposed to be captured.
Ryuji was supposed to win.
Izanami was supposed in the organisation.
The Chinese were never supposed to be here.
"What the hell is happening…" she muttered.
Below, the chaos exploded.
Ray and Izanami found themselves surrounded by not only Yakuza…
But now a third force.
Ray looked around.
"Who the hell are these clowns?" he growled, ducking a strike and countering with a punch that cracked a Yakuza's jaw sideways.
Izanami narrowed her eyes.
"Chinese uniforms. Special Forces. Someone's really afraid of you."
Ray spat blood.
"Get in line."
Maria skidded to a stop mid-swing. A bullet flew past her face.
Ryuji froze as well.
Even he wasn't insane enough to charge men with machine guns and body armor.
The Chinese soldiers didn't differentiate.
Yakuza. Ryuji. Maria. Izanami. Anyone moving was a target.
And still, more were arriving, repelling down from helicopters, silent as nightfall.
The entire battlefield was now on fire.