Got stuck a few thousand words into my other story, bought and rushed through Code Vein, and things spiralled out of control from there.

Was thinking between writing a Dark Souls or Code Vein fanfic, listened to Requiem from the Code Vein OST (the song on that bridge) and somehow came to the conclusion that it sounded a little like the song that played in episode 19 of the KnY anime (Kamado Tanjiro no Uta). At least it had the same ability to induce spontaneous onion-cutting.

Started writing a short drabble, that eventually evolved into a couple thousand words of set-up and future plot points. The merging of the two universes is a little rough (understandably, considering that one is set in the post-apocalyptic dystopian future and the other is in 1900s Japan), but hopefully some hand-wavey explanations can brush that aside. The Code Vein universe is deconvoluted from the God Eater one here, and there will be quite a few liberties taken with the lore of both Code Vein and KnY.

There will be quite a few references to some tracks from the Code Vein OST, both because I was listening to it while writing these two chapters over the weekend and because of the themes they portray. Hope you enjoy!

(Spoilers for Code Vein and KnY aplenty in this fanfic)

He was asleep, and yet still conscious. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps fading in the distance.

Just bare moments ago, he had absorbed all of the Queen's relics from the body of the frenzied and transformed Silva Gregorio, taking on the burden of the man who had sacrificed so much for the protection of Vein. Silva had cast aside everything – his dreams, his daughter, and even what tattered remains were left of his humanity, all in the hope that those within the Gaol of the Mists would be free from the fate that had befallen the outside world.

Now, that was to be his fate – no, his duty as well. He, a Revenant that had long since lost his human name, that knew of nothing but blood and combat. All memories he had of the time when he was still human had faded long ago, lost within the hundreds (thousands?) of deaths since he was first transformed into a Revenant during Operation Queenslayer.

In the time since then, he had, rather unimaginatively, been nicknamed 'Revan' by Yakumo after revealing that he had forgotten his name. Short for 'Revenant', his loyal and ever-cheerful friend said. It had caught on among the rest of his companions, ones who would now be seeing to the end of his journey.

He knew the weight of the burden that was placed unto him, but it was one he would readily accept. Of them all, it was he who had the least to lose. With the Relics reclaimed from the Successors, those who had taken on the arduous task of containing their power should return to their previous selves. Mia would have Nicola to take care of, Louis had Karen, Yakumo had Emily, and Jack and Eva had each other.

His story would end here, sitting on this forgotten throne. If fate would have it, it would be the Crypt of the second and final Queen, one who would maintain the mists forevermore.

He was aware of how his stalwart companions had paused just before the entrance to what would be his Crypt. He could hear the sound of faint sniffling – was that Mia, or Eva? Perhaps even Yakumo?

"Goodbye," a single soft word was carried over to his ears, though he didn't know who had uttered it. There were several more heavy steps, followed shortly by the shutting of a door that would never be opened until the end of eternity.

Only one more remained by his side. His mind was quickly becoming dulled, but he could still faintly hear the words Io whispered to him, as she gently took one of his arms within her soft hands. He strained his ears as much as he could, but the pressure was quickly building up now, every ounce of willpower he had being put into maintaining the Red Mist.

"…but for now… please, rest peacefully, until the time of your awakening comes once again…"

He tried to tell Io to leave with the rest, to live the life she deserved to live. Try as he might, he no longer had control over his body, and he knew that his eternal rest would soon come.

Io, must have sensed some change within him, because he could feel her clutching his arm tighter against herself; a comforting gesture. Though his eyes were closed with heavy lids, he could vividly imagine the sight of the ever-pure and innocent Attendant smiling softly at him, giving up her chance to live the life she wanted to stay with him for eternity.

Her last words, softer than a whisper, reaching his ears as though through turbid mud, nonetheless echoed within his mind.

"Don't worry… I will always be with you…"

As consciousness slowly slipped away, he had just one final wish. If the power of the Queen could truly create miracles like the mistle and the Red Mist, even going so far as to create the Attendants themselves, he hoped that it would listen to his final selfish request.

Please keep them safe…

…keep them safe, that they may all one day travel outside of the Mist when the Horrors are gone…

As eternity approached, he kept their faces etched deeply within his mind.

-o-o-o-

Louis. Yakumo. Mia. Io. Eva. Jack. Murasame. Coco. Davis.

For eons, their names and faces were all he thought of in the muddied waters of his mind. All that mattered was keeping them safe, that they could fulfil each of their dreams. In the moments where he flickered in and out of consciousness, he could sense the world above changing, being moulded by the passage of time, but that was as far as he could stretch his numbed senses.

Revan didn't know how long he slept – didn't know that he could ever awaken – but awaken he did. For long seconds – or had it been minutes? – he sat there, as his senses returned to him one by one, and he could start to string together a thread of thought more complicated than mere descriptive terms.

It was dark within what should have been his Crypt, but with an ease borne of instinctive use he activated a Gift that enhanced his senses, unaware that he had even chosen to activate it at all. He cast a quick glance around. Now then…

…wow.

His Crypt had fallen into a state of disrepair. Stone had been weathered by what must have been water trickling down from above over the ages, and a clear layer of dust had built up on the already-damaged room from where he and his companions had fought against –

His companions.

With that thought, he made to stand from the throne, his heart pounding with the desire to learn of what happened to them. Were they alive? Had they –

His arm caught resistance, and he stilled, turning his gaze over to his right side. What had –

Abruptly, he felt his heart plummet at the sight.

Io was still there, a statue of stone, the final smile still captured on her face as she clutched at his hand from where she knelt. Though everything around him had been battered by the sands of time, she was still pristinely preserved after all this time.

For eternity, she had been by his side…

Very slowly and gingerly, he removed his hand from hers, and his knees gave way with a thud that echoed across the vast cavernous room. With trembling fingers, he placed a hand by her cheek, a familiar desperate sensation welling within him. Against all hope, he wished fervently that it wasn't as he feared it would be –

Her body of stone was cold, and though not even a speck of dust had sullied her form, he couldn't sense even the slightest trace of warm life within her.

"Io…"

For several long moments, Revan knelt there, just as unmoving as her, staring at a face that had been perfectly captured in a gentle and caring expression that was everything it meant to be Io.

It was wrong, he felt, that he shed no tears for the one who had stood by his side for as long as he could remember, both in the literal and figurative sense. It was her who had found him after he had been reborn after slaying the Queen, and had saved him from an otherwise inevitable frenzy that came with the bloodthirst that all Revenants knew well. She had shown him how to use the blood of the Queen that he had unknowingly incorporated within him to restore the wilted mistles.

She had saved him and possibly all of Vein, giving up a chance to grow and live a life outside of the duty she had been created for.

Very painfully, he tore his gaze away from her unmoving body, examining the rest of the room. Time hadn't been kind to it, but the architecture remained more or less the same. There was the throne where he had been meant to rest for all eternity, and then the long bridge that connected it the platform to the entrance of his Crypt.

How much time had passed, anyway? Several years? Decades? Centuries?

Millenia?

It was surprising, then, that after the few minutes he had allowed himself to grieve over Io's fate, he was able to move his limbs with ease. In fact, as far as he could tell, it was as though time hadn't affected his body at all.

Sure, Revenants didn't age, but even then this was phenomenal. Was this part of the power he had inherited from the Queen at work?

He had many questions. What had happened during the time he had spent here? Where were the rest of his friends? How long had he been sleeping?

And then, there were the more traitorous thoughts. Had he failed in his duty? Had he, with his awakening, lifted the Red Mist, and allowed the horrors to finally destroy Vein?

There was only one way to get answers.

I'll be back for you.

He squeezed Io's hand one final time. He picked up the weapon he had brought with him to his final encounter against the transformed Silva from where it had been placed just by the throne, carefully inspecting it.

Iceblood was just as immaculate as it had been, its keen edge deadly in both slashing and thrusting having somehow withstood all the years he had slumbered. Faint wisps of white mist trailed off from its edge, the only visual indication of the power contained within the weapon that had originally been crafted for the elite member of Cerberus who had later been transformed by Juzo Mido into the Blade Bearer.

Revan secured the weapon firmly by his side. With steps that displaced clouds of dust, he began to walk away from the throne, heading toward the rest of the room. He passed by the massive Argent Wolf King's Blade that had been Silva's, left discarded on the ground where he had been laid to rest. Then, he paused mid-way across the bridge as he came across a familiar sight.

The mistle on the bridge had dried up. Experimentally, he dug his nails into his palm, allowing his blood to drip down onto it.

After all this time, would his blood still restore the mistle created from Cruz's wishes, before she had frenzied and become the Queen?

The glass-like plant stirred as the first crimson drops cascaded down on its wilted leaves. Blackened and charred surfaces began to clear, a single white stem growing slowly, several branches extending from it. As more of his blood spilled down below, the blue-white glow that marked the plant capable of suppressing the Revenants' thirst for blood and restoring the dispersed flesh of slain Revenants began to intensify.

It grew in size, moving from no larger than a seedling to reaching his knees, before gradually growing to be almost as tall as him. It was slow; taking far longer than he was used to, but after the long eons without receiving the blood of the Queen it was a miracle in itself that the plant could still bloom.

Very unexpectedly, after it had still continued to grow for several minutes, the first fruits of his efforts began to form on its branches.

Blood beads.

Why were they forming outside of the bloodsprings? They were created and maintained by Karen, the Successor of the Heart, who had altered prexisting mistle into conduits for her own blood to provide an alternative to human blood in her selfless wish to sate their hunger. Louis had studied them extensively, but his research had never suggested the presence of bloodveins extending into the Provisional Government Center where Silva – and now he – maintained the Red Mist from.

…but Karen had been forced to relinquish her relic, he realised. The frenzied Silva had drawn in the relics of all the other successors, transforming himself into a mindless, fearsome Lost that he and his friends had only narrowly defeated. He had since absorbed it within himself, alongside all the other fractured relics that had once been the Queen.

Was the bloodsprings, then, something he had inherited alongside the relic?

There was no way to be certain, but Revan would welcome the blood beads regardless. He took several of the fluid-filled crystalline fruit, placing them in the pouches he carried by his waist. He couldn't travel through the mistle anymore, likely since the other mistles that had been activated would have wilted in his absence.

Well, he always preferred walking on foot, anyway. Dispersing himself into vapour and being guided by mistle reminded him too much of dying for him to ever truly enjoy that method of travel.

Slowly, he made his way over to the door that separated his Crypt from the rest of the world, before pausing once more at yet another strange sight.

Those weapons…

A soft smile spread across his face, as affection welled within him. He recognised them all, of course. It was hard not to, after all the time he had spent fighting alongside their wielders.

Louis' Enduring Crimson, Yakumo's Oni Bane, Mia's Brodiaea, Eva's Libertador, Jack's Executioner, hell, even Io's Dammerung –

Those damned idiots. A Revenant's weapon was their life. For them to leave something like this behind in his Crypt…

Again, he felt that mix of guilt and frustration that he shed no tears over that fact. If he ever – no, when he saw them again, he would make sure to tell them off.

Telling them how much he missed them could come after.

Revan couldn't take all of them with him, of course. He eyed their treasured weapons carefully. He already had Iceblood, and he always preferred to travel light.

Brodiaea it was, then. He took Mia's bayonet, strapping it across his back, then reverently placed the rest of their weapons aside. He vowed that the next time he returned, it would be with his dearest friends.

Right, then. Time to see what had happened of Vein in his absence.

The door glowed a dull orange, marking the threads that formed the barrier that sealed off all the Crypts of the Successors. Fighting down the rising anticipation as best he could, he lifted his hand toward the barrier, feeling its power dissolve as it recognised the blood of the Queen within him and the relics he now housed.

Come to think of it, there was something new there that hadn't been present before…

It took only a few seconds for him to realise what it was. Well, what they were, rather.

In the final battle against Silva, Revan had drained him of blood during combat with his Blood Veil, thereby gaining the power of his Blood Code. Likewise, with all of the scattered relics of the Queen once more reunited within him, he had inherited the Blood Code of the Queen herself.

Normally, mastery of the Gifts contained within them came with experience in combat, but the eternity he had spent in hibernation must have allowed their power to be incorporated into him, because there was the familiar sensation of being able to call upon their Gifts at any time that came with mastery.

He pushed open the door, a loud creaking sound echoing through the chamber after not having seen use for what must have been decades, at the very least. The doors parted, inch by inch, and he could see the world beyond the barrier –

What the hell?

He expected to find the elevator that led it to the rest of the Provisional Government Center, but came upon an entirely different sight.

He knew that the Successors could transform the environment around their Crypts. The vast, maze-like Cathedral of the Sacred Blood had been spawned from the Successor of the Blood and the Successor of the Ribcage, and the harsh, destitute Crown of Sand that housed only legions of the Lost were born from an Eva that had been brought close to frenzy by Mido's interventions. He could have expected some changes around his Crypt, his subconscious thoughts altering its environs, but this…

It looked nothing like the district that had housed the Provisional Government Center.

Hell, it looked nothing like Vein.

Thick branches had twisted outside his Crypt. A gust of wind sent a pile of leaves that had built up just outside the door flying inside, sweeping the thick dust within the chamber in its wake. He stepped out, bewildered, trying to figure out just what was going on.

Was this a forest of some sort? The largest collection of trees he had seen in Vein were in the ruins of the park within the City Centre, but even their leaves were yellowed and well on their way to wilting. These trees were a verdant green, teeming with life, as Louis had claimed the world had once been before the Great Collapse when the Horrors first came. Even then, those had been claims from books he had read, since Vein had already fallen into a state of ruin by the time any one of them first became a Revenant.

Revan took a deep breath in, and was surprised to find that the air came back fresh. Clean.

There was no Miasma. Even with his mask that acted as an air purifier on, areas tainted by Miasma had a distinct scent to it. No matter how thin it was, even in areas purified by mistle, he had become acutely aware of its presence.

Now, though, it seemed that there was none at all. Gingerly, he took his mask off, ready to replace it at any moment if it turned out that he was wrong.

A few seconds passed, and he showed no signs of the bloodthirst that marked the transition from Revenant to one of the Lost.

There was truly no Miasma here, even though the entire Provisional Government Center had been so thick with it when he and his friends fought their way through to where Silva lay. Slowly, he secured the mask over by his belt.

He was grateful for the fact, of course, but the absence of Miasma only added to his confusion.

Just what exactly had transpired while he had been sleeping?

He was about to make his way out into the world beyond, to find answers for the questions he was seeking, but paused momentarily. He turned back to face the Crypt, and in the darkness his Gift-enhanced sight could distinctly pick out Io's body kneeling by the throne.

"I'll be back, Io," Revan whispered. "I promise."

With that, he stepped out through the trees, moving in a single direction until he cleared the dense undergrowth. It took several minutes of trawling through the tangled mess of roots and branches, but at last he made it out. It probably wasn't a forest, then, since those were supposedly far larger, but it was still the single largest collection of living trees Revan had ever seen.

Now, though, his bewilderment only grew.

He stood in a ruin of some sort. It looked almost like a shrine or temple, but one that had clearly been untouched for decades. Stone tiles were cracked, puddles of water pooling up between them, and wooden beams were fractured and bent. Up above, stars shone brightly in the night sky.

Taking centre-stage of this 'temple' was what he assumed to be a shrine or altar. The overall architecture was symmetrical, and though it had long since fallen apart, Revan could clearly tell what the original design was. Two carvings of stone on either side of a central wooden structure, with a pair of horizontal beams being supported on either side by a longer vertical beam. Nearby, a building constructed of wood and stone had collapsed entirely, the wood already well into a state of decomposition.

If he had any doubts before, this had certainly cleared them up. Wherever he was, he was no longer in Vein as he knew it.

He needed to find his friends, to figure out just where he was and what had happened, but he didn't know where to even begin.

If he was being honest with himself, he felt lost and directionless.

In what few memories he had intact, he always had a sense of purpose. He had been part of Operation Queenslayer to put down the Queen after she frenzied. For whatever reason, he had been gifted with Void-type blood, that enabled him to absorb the Blood Codes of others, inadvertently allowing him to become the Successor of the Blood and adopting a fragment of the Queen's power.

Since then, his purpose had always been to help his friends achieve their dreams with the power he had undeservedly been given. Somehow, that mission had eventually led to him restoring the other Successors after they frenzied with the Vestiges they had left behind, and then later to taking on Silva's position in maintaining the Red Mist.

And there was the other matter that still eluded him. Without him on the throne actively maintain it, the Mist had faded, but as far as he could tell there were no Horrors around.

For just a brief moment, he remembered that selfish wish he had just before he truly entered his slumber, but surely it was too good to be true? Had he, or what remained of Cruz within him, lifted the Mist when the Horrors were well and truly gone?

He couldn't find answers to these questions just standing around idly. A clear path led out from the ruined shrine, although it too had fallen into a state of disrepair.

Still, though, a path meant civilisation, and civilisation meant people.

With a final glance in the direction he had come from, and the same whispered promise, he set off into an unfamiliar world.

-o-o-o-

Blood.

Fresh, human blood.

He had never come across another human beyond the time that he, Louis and Yakumo had saved the girl from the starving Revenants who were hunting her down. Though he had died several times since then, and lost quite a sizeable amount of already-limited memories each time he was reborn at a mistle, he vividly remembered the fear and determination of the girl who had been about to end her own life just so she would stop being hunted by Revenants for her blood.

He remembered the nearly-overwhelming thirst the scent of her blood had brought. Had it not been for the blood beads he and his friends had consumed earlier that day, that alone may have sent him into a frenzy, possibly even becoming a Lost right there and then.

Now, even though all he had was the barest of whiffs of it in the air, its source still out of sight, he knew without question that there the overpowering and tantalising scent had to come from the bodies of many, many humans. It couldn't be just be the merest of cuts, either; this had to be bodies being left out to drain.

Hell, with this density, there might even be more of them bleeding out than there were humans remaining in Vein.

There was no chance in hell that he would stand idly by, though. His friends would have his head if they ever got word that he stood by and allowed what must be an ongoing slaughter to continue. Louis had always wished for a world where humans and Revenants could live in unity, where the former wouldn't have to fear being hunted while Revenants could go by day to day without ever succumbing into the ranks of the Lost.

Revan took only a slight moment to steel himself, before forcing his very blood itself to adopt the properties of the Assassin Blood Code, that he had recovered from the memories of Riki while he had been exploring the Howling Pit. As the very essence of his blood shifted, he could feel his limbs lightening, and though the force his muscles could produce were lessened, he knew without a doubt that he was as fast as he could be.

Speed was of the essence here. He could switch Blood Codes again once he found the source.

Revan moved quickly, a phantom blur to any would-be observers. He pooled Ichor into his feet, weaving its power into the Gift of Concentration, allowing him to run longer and faster without tiring. The scent grew stronger with each passing second as his surroundings moved as a blur in his peripheral vision. He didn't know whether it was because he was growing closer to the source or because more humans were being slain, although he desperately hoped it was the former.

Within minutes, structures began to come into view. A collection of buildings; a settlement. Possibly a village.

At the back of his mind, he wondered just why they were made of wood rather than the towers concrete in Vein, but there were more important matters at hand.

With the enhanced hearing that came with his chosen Blood Code, he could very distinctly pick out the sounds of fighting. Clashing steel – something he was intimately familiar with – alongside far fainter grunting and panting, indecipherable words, and…

…laughter?

From there, it was only a matter of tens of seconds before he reached the village proper. Bodies littered the streets, their blood pooling under them, but he could spare no further thought for them. With the amount they had lost, there was no hope that any of them could be alive.

There was still the sound of fighting, although now one party was becoming more desperate, the ringing of steel coming more frequently alongside the sound of exhausted panting. Without wasting further time, he traced the sounds to their source, fighting down the thirst slowly building up with his single-minded focus on stopping whatever was going on.

He could sense it, now. Ichor. All Revenants and Lost produced that substance, allowing them to manipulate it and release its power in the form of Gifts granted by their Blood Codes. Ichor sustained their bodies, strengthening them, and over the years since Revenants first came into being, Ichor had since been channelled into their weapons and Blood Veils to enhance their combat potential.

Given the macabre sight the greeted him at every turn, the one responsible for all of this was clearly capable of planning and thinking. It couldn't simply be a mindless Lost hunting down humans.

It didn't make sense, though. Why would a Revenant need to kill that many humans? This amount of blood could easily feed a single Revenant for years. Possibly decades, even. He was enraged that the humans were being killed senselessly, since it went against everything he and his friends had fought for, but the fact that the blood was being wasted as it pooled into the cobblestone streets below irked him.

Simply put, it was as though this Revenant was killing humans just for the purpose of killing humans.

Spurred on by that conclusion, he hurried himself further, dashing past winding streets and alleys, being met by the sight of mutilated and disembodied corpses all the while.

"…help…"

More than once, he very distinctly heard the sounds of gurgling as dying humans choked on their own blood, but there was no way he could save them from what was sure to be a fatal injury. All he could do was press on, and find the Revenant responsible for this.

He wasn't sure what to do from there, though. Would Revan fight him and destroy his heart, preventing him from ever reviving? Or would he simply kill him, and allow him to disperse into mist and eventually reform?

He didn't have time to dwell on that any longer, because as he turned into another alley, he finally came to the end of his chase. For an instant, both parties turned to look at him, as he arrested his momentum harshly against the stone floor with a resounding stamp of his feet.

In that instant, he shifted his Blood Code once more, altering it into his preferred Queenslayer, that had been his original Blood Code before he had lost his memories after the first death he could remember. It had already been a force to be reckoned with, given that he had defeated the Queen herself with the help of Jack and Silva during Operation Queenslayer. The addition of Gifts from other Blood Codes he had since mastered only empowered it further.

"Oh?" one of the combatants tilted his head slightly, a smile on his face, disregarding his previous opponent entirely. "Who might you be?"

Revan could feel the Ichor within the Revenant, now. If the fact that the other party was down and bleeding heavily on the ground didn't clue him in before, he now knew without a doubt that this person was the Revenant responsible for the slaughter. Around his neck, Revan's Blood Veil twitched slightly. Though Blood Veils were worn as armoured clothing, they were a living extension of Revenants, and now it was yearning to rip and drain the Ichor from his opponent.

He held a pair of golden fans in his hands, weapons that Revan could frankly say he had never seen before. The next feature he noted were his eyes – there were words engraved into it, as strange as it sounded. Under the moonlight, what was exposed of his face was pale, but there was no mistaking the trickle of blood at the corner of his lips that were still raised into a smile.

No air purifier mask. No Blood Veil.

Was he even truly a Revenant? But he had Ichor…

No. A fight was no place to doubt.

Cast aside your doubt, Louis had told him when they had been forced to fight and kill Oliver Collins, after he had been exposed to Miasma and become a lost.

He spared a glance at the downed human, taking a moment to assess for his wounds –

No. Not a man. The woman was clutching a sword – a katana – and forcing herself to stand feebly on her feet. She swayed slightly on the spot, her face twisted in a grimace, blood at the corner of her lips. She wore an outer jacket of some sort, a white garment with a strange pattern of interweaving lines that looked almost like an insect's wings, and where it met the moonlight Revan could see that several patches of it were stained a deep red. A pair of hairpins shaped like butterflies secured her hair on either side, and he could see a layer of frost building up on her long locks of hair, strangely enough.

Punctured lung. Shattered femur. Haemostasis had somehow been achieved, stopping her from bleeding out, but even then her injuries were still severe. How was she even able to remain conscious, much less attempt to stand?

She wasn't in good shape, then. She frowned for a moment as their eyes met, before looking back to her previous opponent. He took another brief instant to survey the battleground – there were slashes, likely from the woman's katana, and ice that adorned the surfaces of the street.

Did that come from that Revenant's Gifts?

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" the Revenant pouted, his voice far too gentle for one who had wiped out that many humans for no apparent reason. "Come on! You've got a cool-looking sword, there!"

"Why did you kill those humans?" he asked, his voice betraying no emotion, subtly preparing and activating a set of Gifts. Unseen by his would-be opponent, he could feel his muscles tensing and shaping, drawing upon Ichor-fuelled power, as Bridge to Glory and Adrenaline took hold.

Those with more visually obvious features could come later.

"Oh? 'Humans', you say?" The Revenant tapped a finger to his chin, loosely holding the fan in that hand between his ring and little fingers. Then, his smile widened, but that joviality never quite seemed to reach his eyes. "You must be a demon too, then! I've not met you before, but the man makes plenty of us, huh?"

…a demon?

What?

The woman's eyes narrowed, shifting her stance on an already-injured leg. Where she had been treating him as a potential ally before, she now saw them both as enemies.

"I know!" the Revenant-demon declared, nodding sagely. "Since I'm a nice guy, as my new friend, I'll let you eat some of those humans after I kill this Hashira!"

"The hell is wrong with you?" Revan growled, Iceblood held tensely in a guard. This person was turning out to be more insane by the second, which was saying something, since Revan had dealt with the likes of the evolution-obsessed scientist Juzo Mido.

"Ohh?" he allowed his voice to trail off, still loosely twirling his fans in his hands. "Are you a new demon, hmm? Don't worry, I'll explain how this all works!" Again, there was something odd in the way his tone and expressions didn't match. "You see, Hashira is the highest rank among the Demon Slayers! Maybe one day, you'll get to eat one of them for yourself!"

He laughed, simultaneously jovial and yet empty and hollow. Anyone else might have missed the calculating look this Revenant was sending Revan, but with the number of battles he had fought in there was no way he wouldn't have caught that.

Hell, Revan was doing the same thing to him, studying his form closely. The outcomes of entire battles could be decided before they even began.

The fact that he used ice-based Gifts was a given. Fans were an odd weapon choice, but he assumed that their advantages lay in manoeuvrability and unpredictability. His sword would have a range advantage here.

"What's your name?" Revan asked, attempting to distract him while he prepared for his attack. After what he had seen, he was convinced that there was no choice but to truly end this Revenant's life. If he was as broken as he was now, the memory loss that came with death and revival would only bring him closer to the edge of frenzying and becoming a Lost.

"You are an odd one," he commented. "A demon… but not one of his? Intriguing!" He smiled serenely. "Doma, Upper Moon Two. Pleasure to meet you!"

Doma, huh?

Revan had no idea why he was calling them demons, or what the hell an 'Upper Moon Two' was, but he would discount everything else this 'Doma' said for later. Fight first, ask questions later, as Yakumo would say.

Without warning, Revan moved, cutting the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The Gifts of his sword activated, having already been pooling with Ichor in the time Doma had foolishly engaged in conversation, a lattice of ice spreading out at he thrust the blade directly into his opponent's heart.

The blade pierced through flesh cleanly, a direct and precise strike. As Revan withdrew the blade, a burst of ice sprang forth, travelling in a straight path through Doma's chest, terminating against the wall behind him as it crystallised and spread across its surface.

It was a clean kill. The heart was completely destroyed, but Doma…

"Ice, huh?" For the first time, there was a clipped edge to his voice, but the smile still remained affixed to his face. "Not bad. I like ice, too."

How the hell was he still alive?

Never mind the fact that the BOR parasites in the Revenant's heart that sustained its body should have been instantly destroyed by that, how was he able to still so nonchalantly continue talking as though nothing happened?

"My turn." Doma raised his fans, pointing each of them at his two opponents. Revan could sense the Ichor within Doma shifting, pooling into his weapons, ready to be unleashed in a Gift at any moment.

"Blood Demon Art: Scattering Lotuses!"

"Watch out!" the woman shouted, grunting slightly with pain, but forced herself to move and tumble aside.

Damn it. She couldn't block that attack on her own. Razor-sharp waves of ice and snow were heading toward each of them, and though he could dodge them easily, she would have no such luck.

It was going to be costly to his Ichor, but he really didn't have any other choice.

He grunted with exertion, shaping a Foulblood Barrier around each of them, and then quickly followed it up as the first shards of ice struck against his construct of blood and Ichor with an activation of Ice Armour.

The two defensive gifts held strong, weathering the assault that came from Doma's twin fans, and for the first time Revan saw a genuine emotion on his face.

Surprise.

"What –"

"RUN!" he ordered the woman, wasting no time to press the attack.

If his opponent was kind enough to give him an opportunity to strike, he wasn't going to let it slip away.

"But –"

"I can't cover you and fight!" he shouted as he thrust Iceblood once more, although Doma proved to be capable of matching his speed now that he was treating him as an opponent. A fan parried his blade aside, and he was forced to strafe to the side to avoid being caught by the bladed edge of its twin.

"Blood Demon Art –"

"Severing Abyss!" he commanded absently, yelling the name of the Gift that had originally been one of Jack's as he executed it, leaping high into the air and then slamming down onto the ground below. A shockwave of force rang out from where his blade crashed against the ground, Doma having dodged backward just a split second before he would have been bisected. Stone and dirt were flung in all directions, as cracks spread outward in the aftermath of the impact.

Damn it. He was quickly running out of Ichor if he continued using that many Gifts in quick succession. He swung his blade quickly, lunging into a quick roll as he recovered from the Gift, nicking Doma in the side with a shallow cut that drained a small amount of Ichor.

"You –" Doma began saying, but Revan didn't let up. He managed to land two more quick slashes before his opponent disengaged, but he barely refilled any of his lost Ichor. They had moved out of the narrow alley, giving them both more breathing room to fight.

"Let's fight him together!" the woman's voice came from behind him, although her breaths were heavy and irregular, and there was a faint gurgling sound that came with her punctured lung.

Damn it. Why was she still here?

"I told you to run!"

"He's an Upper Moon, even if you're a good demon, you can't possibly –"

"I don't even know what that means!" he snapped, seizing the opportunity to strike when he sensed that Doma had been distracted by their byplay. He only achieved the barest of nicks in his shoulder, before being forced to tumble to the side as Doma released a wave of frost toward him.

"What?!"

"Enough," Doma commanded, his voice deadly calm. "It will be daybreak soon, and I do want to eat this lovely Hashira. Blood Demon Art: Freezing Fog!"

A fine, silvery mist spread out from his fans, rapidly diffusing into the air around –

No, not mist. Ice. Small shards of ice, each of which could pierce through flesh or freeze upon contact with a surface. With that much of it being produced from his Gift, even simply breathing in air that cold would no doubt freeze and destroy his lungs on its own.

With the rate it was spreading, he couldn't just outrun it, not if he needed to evacuate the woman as well.

Damn it. Things would be so much easier if the woman had just listened to him and ran. After this, he wasn't sure if he would have much more Ichor to use another Gift without chipping away at Doma's.

"Walpurgis Fire!"

His blood raged in his veins, and he could feel the Ichor shifting underneath as it blended together with his blood, being shaped into the legendary flames of the Queen. A massive conflagration sprang forth, his inaugural use of the Gift not at all a disappointment, as all traces of ice melted away into water.

"Your face…" the woman breathed, her voice catching, but Revan paid her no mind. He saw an opportunity to attack, and he took it.

He raced forward, through the cloud of mist that formed when his Gift met Doma's own, his Blood Veil reacting to his intentions as a massive stinger extended out from the long tail of his coat.

In the instant he became visible, he saw Doma's eyes widen briefly, but his stinger was already in motion.

Once more, it pierced him in the heart, although this time draining Ichor greedily from Doma. A cast of Chaotic Ash from up close hastened the process, and he could feel his store of Ichor being replenished readily.

"What are you…" Doma spoke, his fans raised to point at him, and he quickly withdrew the stinger, returning his Blood Veil to its original form, ready for the incoming attack.

What he was not ready for, however, was what came with absorbing the blood alongside his opponent's Ichor. It was a mild miscalculation, but one that interrupted the flow of the fight.

An extremely familiar sensation that greeted him, that of the world fading away, and he was met by darkness all around. A corridor of memories; faint sounds coming from all angles, and in the distance he could see lit braziers guiding the path.

A Vestige.

Without further ado, he moved forward, using this lull in the fight to see just what kind of life Doma had lived.