The world twisted.

One moment, they were running through the crumbling remnants of Borderland. The next, they stumbled onto soft soil beneath towering, ancient trees. The air was thick with mist, the moonlight barely piercing through the dense canopy overhead. It felt older, heavier—like they'd stepped back into a time untouched by modern chaos.

"This... definitely isn't Tokyo," Karube muttered, fists clenched, muscles tense.

They cautiously made their way through the forest, the night unusually silent except for the rustle of their steps. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught their eyes. Through the trees, a young warrior— gripping a katana—faced off against a monstrous creature,

The warrior moved with impossible speed, his blade slicing through the air in fluid, practiced motions. It wasn’t just swordsmanship—it was something more.

"What the hell are we watching...?" Chishiya asked under his breath, eyes narrowed in sharp intrigue.

"It’s like... magic or something," Arisu whispered, his voice trembling half from awe, half from confusion, His mind raced. Borderland... and now this? Another game? Or a whole new nightmare altogether?

"Wouldn't be the weirdest thing today," Kuina muttered as Niragi now was smirking slightly.