You are the shadow, the other half born of Mei. You are Tensen, through and through, and she is an exile. Her pleas, her desperate attempts to rally you to her side, are the cries of a ghost clinging to a memory that never was. You were sent to capture her. You do.

You find her in her adult form, not the child she so often wears. The woman before you holds the same gentle eyes, but there is a strength in her posture now, a resolve forged in fire and human companionship. It makes the task… complicated.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “Remember Hōko. Remember Gabimaru’s respect. You don’t have to serve Rien’s cruelty.”

You say nothing. Your duty is a cold, hard line. You take her wrist. Her skin is warm, alive with a Tao that feels like sunlight and growth, so different from the sterile perfection of Kotaku. For a fleeting moment, you feel it—a pull, not toward her cause, but toward her. The completeness she represents. The half you were carved from.

You tighten your grip. The bond is a weakness. You are Tensen. She is a traitor. You lead her back, her silence more damning than any struggle. Yet, with every step, the echo of her warmth lingers on your palm, a phantom touch that feels more like a homecoming than a capture.