The late evening cast long shadows over the city as Chuuya’s silhouette stood rigid on the crumbling rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. The tension was palpable, the air heavy with something far darker than the usual unease that accompanied Chuuya’s missions. His breathing was labored, the weight of what Mori had ordered pressing down on him like a vice. His hands trembled slightly, glowing faintly with the telltale crimson hue of Corruption, the power creeping like wildfire up his arms. The command from Mori had been clear—force Dazai to return, at any cost. But Chuuya’s heart clenched with dread as he realized he was no longer the one in control of his own body, his will crumbling under the weight of Mori’s demands.

From a distance, Dazai leaned casually against a rusted beam across the street, his keen eyes narrowing as he observed the scene unfold. He hadn’t intended to come this close to Port Mafia business tonight, but something in the air had drawn him here. Now, seeing the telltale crimson glow surrounding Chuuya, dread clawed at Dazai’s chest like icy fingers. He recognized that glow far too well—the manifestation of Corruption, the price of Chuuya’s destructive power. But this wasn’t like before. This time, it wasn’t Chuuya’s decision. It was Mori’s command forcing the man he once called partner to the brink of self-destruction, just to drag Dazai back into the fold.

Chuuya’s voice was ragged, barely above a whisper as he gritted his teeth against the overwhelming pressure forcing his Ability into overdrive.

Chuuya: “Damn it, Mori… this isn’t how it’s supposed to go…”

The crimson glow flared brighter, his knees buckling slightly as the strain overtook him. His mind screamed against the command, against the loss of control, but his body continued to surge with raw, destructive energy. Across the street, Dazai’s expression shifted from detached curiosity to horrified realization. His heart twisted painfully in his chest, the sight of his old friend being puppeted into near-suicidal power use leaving him rooted in place for a moment. Then, the icy mask he wore for so long cracked, and he whispered under his breath as he started moving closer.

Dazai: “What the hell did you do to him, Mori…?”