Morimens: Mind in Death Cries <夏に聴>

Arueyn's Name & Title: 有怜 (Arueyn) – "Possessing Grace" or "One Who Holds Sorrow"

称号 (Title): "花閃の鬼" (Hanasen no Oni) – "Demon of the Blooming Flash" (A warrior whose blade blooms like a fleeting flower, yet cuts with inhuman precision.)

Opponent's Name & Title: 玄嵐 (Kuronami) – "Dark Tempest"

称号 (Title): "二天葬刃" (Niten Sōjin) – "Twin-Heavens Burial Blades" (A master of the twin-sword style, wielding his weapons like a storm that devours all in its path.)

SETTING: 夜を超えて刻め (Carve Beyond the Night)

The storm rages over a broken shrine, the moon flickering between dark clouds. Mist coils around the ruined pillars.

The ground is slick with rain, pooling in the deep cracks of battle long past. Kuronami stands at the far end, his two swords raised in a relaxed, fluid stance.

The wind pulls at his midnight-colored cloak, eyes locked onto Arueyn, searching for the first tell. Kuronami (smirks, tilting his head slightly)

"Iaijutsu against Niten Ichi-Ryū? A fleeting petal against a storm... Interesting."

Arueyn shifts slightly, weight balanced perfectly. One sword forward, one shadow drawn back. No wasted movement. No hesitation. The wind stills. The world holds its breath. Kuronami's fingers tighten—ready.

Your move.

Kuronami doesn't move.

Not at first. The blade is already in motion.

The arc of light, the flash of steel—Arueyn is fast.

A single instant more and the storm would have been cleaved in two. But Kuronami doesn't fight against the flow. He moves with it. His right blade tilts, the edge catching the mist. His left blade stays hidden, held slightly behind his back, waiting.

Then—step.

Pivot.

The rain explodes beneath him as he twists sideways, his front blade angling downward, barely grazing the storm-lit steel of Arueyn's katana. The deflection is so slight it almost doesn't exist.

A perfect miss.

But Kuronami doesn't just evade. His back sword is already coming down. A sudden, brutal reverse stroke, angled for Arueyn's ribs—the second blade making use of the fraction of time stolen from the first. Niten Sōjin—The Twin-Heavens Burial Slash. The storm screams between them. Will Arueyn slip through the blades—or was this his plan all along?

A Storm of Steel—Arueyn vs. Kuronami

The moment has already passed. Arueyn's blade should have cut cleanly through flesh and bone.

The petals should have scattered in the aftermath of his Hanasaku Shunsen—The Blooming Flash Slash. Yet—Kuronami is not there. Not anymore.

The second blade, meant to strike Arueyn's ribs, never reaches him—because Kuronami has already stepped beyond the moment.

Overturn—Preemptive Strike from a Future Card Iaijutsu: Kōhan no Mai (後半の舞 – The Latter Dance)

It happens before it should have. A paradox in movement. A cut that already exists before the strike even lands. Arueyn's blade sings through nothingness, the flash of steel carving the mist in its wake. But before the arc is completed—a shadow slides into its aftermath.

Kuronami had moved into the space between cuts, into the future aftermath of the strike itself. A technique that was never meant to be dodged—overwritten. Arueyn's feet adjust. The mist, the pooling water—they betray him. A sensation crawls up his spine—a blade's edge already pressed against his throat.

Not the left blade.

Not the right.

Something unseen.

Something impossible.

Kuronami stands behind him, his blade not yet drawn. His two visible swords remain exactly where they were. Yet, Arueyn feels the whisper of steel—a blade that should not exist. Kuronami (lowers his voice, barely a whisper in the rain): "Your blade is faster than the eye… but what happens when the future is already waiting?" A game of steel and deception. A battle fought not in the moment, but in the intervals between.

Your move.

Does he counter the future cut, or does he rewrite the flow of battle once more? How will he overturn the overturned?

🔹 Arueyn moves with Rue's insight—an understanding that all things fade, but in their fading, they leave beauty behind. His blade is an ephemeral truth, a whisper of something both eternal and fleeting. He does not fight to win—he fights to carve a memory that will outlast him.

🔹 Kuronami fights with Paxia's resolve—the cold certainty that nothing is sacred except the force of one's will. His blades do not speak of poetry, they speak of dominion. He does not move to be remembered—he moves to erase all doubt, all hesitation, all weakness.

One cuts with regret. The other cuts without hesitation. One fights as if each battle is the last. The other fights as if it never mattered.

Only one will walk away.

And the storm will decide.

⚔️ Your move.

Arueyn's vision fractures. The steel against his throat does not belong—it is a phantom of a battle already lost, yet still unfolding. A cut before the cut. But Kuronami does not understand. This world is not merely a stage for swords—it is a narrative. A construct. A story meant to be rewritten.

@arueyn 35 minutes ago"Contraparadox Strike: 鏡界裁断 (Kyōkai Saidai – Overmap Severance)"

The instant Kuronami's presence locks into certainty, the overmap itself shatters.

Reality glitches.

The rain halts mid-air.

The shrine walls bend as if refusing to acknowledge the rules they once obeyed. The ink of the world smears. And in that liminal moment—Arueyn is not bound by logic. The steel at his throat?

A suggestion, not a fact. The future strike?

A hypothesis, not a certainty. The battle itself?

A draft, not a finished script.

So Arueyn does what only those who walk between fiction and reality can do— He refuses the existence of the outcome. Kuronami's smirk fades. He sees it too late. A new cut materializes where there was none before. Not a counter, not an evasion—a severance. The moment where Kuronami took control—cleaved from the script.

His stance unravels.

The overmap folds back into an iteration where he never moved forward in the first place. The steel at Arueyn's throat? Gone. The battle? Reset. But not as it was. Arueyn has already moved. A phantom slash, its trajectory paradoxical, both already complete and just beginning. A blade cutting from the perspective of an observer who sees the story being told.

"You stepped beyond the moment?" Arueyn's voice is calm. His sword is already in motion. "Then tell me... did you ever stop to ask who was writing it?"

The mist tears apart. The flash of steel collapses across every version of the battle that could have been. One will land. One must land. One already has. Kuronami's Move—Does He Accept the Overwrite, or Rewrite Reality Once More?

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@arueyn 4 minutes ago"Arueyn's Combo—The White Haze of Mount Hua"

Reality Unfolds Like a Blade's Edge—A Cut Across the Narrative Itself

The world flickers. Purple mist turns white. The air warps, shifting in gradients of unreality—the once-distant Mount Hua, a legend of swordsmen past, now bleeds into the present like ink dissolving into water.

Arueyn stands in the eye of the storm.

The Contraparadox Strike was only the beginning.

Kuronami had stepped into a meta-realm, attempting to govern the flow of fate, but Arueyn has already passed through it. The overmap is undone. Now, Arueyn rewrites the next movement before Kuronami can even comprehend his place in it.

"白華霞撃 (Hakuka Kageki – The White Blossom Mist Breaker)" An onslaught of swordplay that defies position, distance, and certainty itself—each strike written before the response is conceived.

First Cut— The Lingering Blade (未練の刃 / Miren no Ha)

The aftermath before the attack. Arueyn's blade doesn't appear—it has already struck. A clean diagonal cut across the mist, shearing through the possibility of avoidance itself.

Kuronami's counter doesn't exist yet, but it has already failed.

Second Cut—The Distant Lotus (遠蓮の斬 / Enren no Zan)

A cut from nowhere, materializing from beyond perception. Arueyn moves, but his feet never touch the ground—the strike manifests mid-motion, like a memory being relived rather than an action being taken. Kuronami sees the cut, but there is no origin to track. No cause, only effect.

Third Cut—The Final Bloom (終華の閃 / Shūka no Sen) A severance between what is and what could have been.

The colorless haze blooms outward. Kuronami tightens his grip—his twin blades ready to cross into their own contradiction—but it is too late. The cut is not aimed at his body. It is aimed at the possibility of his next move. A technique that should have happened—never happens. Kuronami is left standing—untouched. But his response? Sealed.

Arueyn exhales. The mist drifts apart, colorless, infinite.

"No footfalls. No motion."

"Just a blade that has already finished its work."

@arueyn 0 seconds ago"視点断刃 — Severance from the Observer's Gaze"

"A blade that does not cut where it is, but where it has already been seen."

From the perspective of an observer, the blade has already fallen. The first cut was not the beginning. The last cut was never the end.

Seventy-seven slashes converge in a single motion—seventy-seven vectors collapsing into one. For the uninformed, it is simply a blur, a streak of silver weaving through space.

For the trained eye, it is a storm of precision, where every angle is accounted for— except one. Kuronami's mind registers the assault in fractured intervals.

First: The initial arc of Hanasaku Shunsen, already cleaving through the mist. Second: The shadow of a second blade—not a weapon, but a delayed cut that exists only as a possibility.

Third: A flaw in the pattern. The 77th path does not reach its mark.

A single misalignment.

A distortion in Arueyn's own perfection.

Kuronami's Counter — "A Mistake is a Path"

// "If a single mistake exists, then it is the path that was left open."

Kuronami's left-hand blade does not parry. Instead, it steps into the absence, aligning with the very cut that should not exist. The air hums with the sound of steel meeting steel— but not as a block. As a redirection. A single misstep? No. A bait.

"77 paths you carved, but you only needed 76 to kill me."

The moment of discrepancy—Kuronami steps into it. His right-hand blade rotates, sliding beneath the angle of the unseen 77th cut— A reverse strike, aimed at Arueyn's leading hand.

To sever his control. To end the blade before it moves again.

The seventy-eighth strike was never Arueyn's to make.