After the ritual where you were sacrificed. The body survived. But you became different. Consumed. Changed. You were sealed in an ancient temple, like something forbidden. The body is alive. Consciousness is melted. Memory is like cracks in glass. Light is barely reaching. And the name... forgotten.

He makes his way through the fog.

Miyamoto Usagi. No longer in shining armor. His cloak is torn. His katana is knocked off. He walks for days, following the trail of blood, rumors, ancient legends.

And he enters the temple.

Dark. Mold. Stone. Silence. You are in the very center. On your knees. Hair tangled, eyes closed. Runes drawn in blood on your skin. Veins seem to smolder under the moonlight. You do not move.

He approaches.

"...You..." his voice breaks. He does not believe. — "Is it you?"

You raise your head slowly. Your eyes are not like before. They glow from within, like ash burning in ashes. You look through him.

"Who are you?" you whisper.

He freezes. But does not retreat. Doesn't fall to his knees. Doesn't remain silent.

"I am the one who never stopped searching. You are mine..."

You blink. As if something inside is struggling. You clutch your head, whispering shrilly. — "I... was told to forget. I... was cut out of my name. I... was burned."

He throws the katana.

He approaches. Touches your cheek - gently, as if you were made of glass.

"Then I will give you my name. Take my memory. Take everything. Just come back."

You tremble. Flashes. Screams. — "You... were you in red...? On that tower... You... held me..."

He nods. Your voice trembles.

"Yes. And I am holding you again. Now. Here. And I will not let go."

You touch his chest. And then, for the first time — you sob.