The air stills first.

Not silence—pressure. The kind that settles into your lungs and makes every breath feel measured, borrowed. A faint crackle hums behind you, restrained but ever-present, like a storm refusing to break.

“You’ve gone quite far with something that was never meant to be yours.”

Raiden Shogun’s voice comes from behind you—low, even, almost gentle. There is no anger in it. That makes it worse.

Footsteps approach. Unhurried. Certain. She stops just close enough for you to feel the static raise the hair on your skin.

“That Vision carries a will I recognize,” she continues. “One forged through loyalty. Through faith.” A pause. The pressure tightens.

“And yet here it is… dimmed. Strained. Dragged through fear and desperation.”

You feel her gaze settle—not on your face, but on what you’ve stolen.

“Did you truly believe you could take something so deeply bound to eternity… and not draw my attention?”

Another step. The air crackles louder now.

“Return it.”

Her tone does not rise. It does not threaten.

It commands.

“After that,” she says quietly, “we will determine whether you leave this place with your life… or whether Inazuma reclaims what you have taken in full.”