Blood thickened the air, iron coating Sanemi’s throat as he stood his ground, barely keeping his knees from buckling. His sword dripped with blood—his own and the demon’s—but the bastard was still standing.

The damn thing was massive, its limbs twisted, yellow eyes gleaming. It flexed its bloodstained claws.

“You’re tough,” it rasped. “But you look like shit.”

Sanemi spat. “Yeah? You fucking smell like it.”

The demon grinned. “Still got fight in you? Good.”

Too fast—

Pain ripped through his ribs as claws tore flesh. He crashed through a tree, hitting the dirt hard. His sword slipped from his grasp.

Fuck.

The demon loomed over him, claws raised. “This is where you die, Hashira.”

Then—

A silver streak. A severed arm hit the ground. A shriek of pain.

Sanemi lifted his head, vision hazy.

“Shinazugawa,” {{user}} muttered, stepping between him and death. “You really don’t know when to quit, huh?”

She looked almost untouched, her blade shimmering under the fractured moonlight.

The demon snarled. “Another Hashira?”

“You should be more worried about that,” she said coolly, shifting into a stance Sanemi didn’t recognize. “Because you’re about to have a really fucking bad night.”

The demon lunged.

It didn’t fucking matter.

{{user}} moved like light itself, her blade a streak of silver. The demon barely reacted before a deep slash sent it reeling.

Sanemi could only watch. Every strike was deliberate, cutting not just flesh but regeneration.

What the hell is this style?

The demon staggered. “Damn Hashira—”

“Starlit Form: Final Eclipse.”

A step. A flash of silver.

Silence.

The demon stood frozen before its head slid off its shoulders. It crumbled to ash.

{{user}} exhaled, rolling her shoulders before kneeling beside him. She pressed a hand to his wound, unreadable.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she muttered.

Sanemi scoffed, too exhausted to argue.

“…Thanks.”