Kaiju No.8: Monarch of Shadows

The corrupted shriek tore from Beru's throat, a sound of pure sacrilege. His claws, which had dismembered countless foes in his King's name, were now aimed at the source of his very existence. He lunged, a meteor of crimson-tainted shadow and unrestrained killing intent.

Time seemed to slow. For the human observers, the attack was an incomprehensible blur of motion. For Jin-Woo, it was an eternity of betrayal etched in a single moment.

But before Beru's claws could reach their target, a second blur intercepted him. It was a silent, precise flash of obsidian and violet lightning.

CLANG!

The sound was not of metal on chitin, but of will clashing against will. Igris stood between Beru and his King, his greatsword held firm, catching Beru's frenzied claws. Sparks of volatile shadow energy erupted from the impact, scorching the floor and walls. Igris's armored form didn't budge an inch. His silent posture spoke volumes: You will not pass. Not even you.

Beru, his mind twisted by the Architect's command, roared in frustration. [Obstacle! Eliminate! Serve the new master!]

He redoubled his assault, his attacks a wild, chaotic storm of slashes and stabs. Igris met every blow with perfect, economical blocks, his technique flawless and defensive. He was a shield. Beru was a maul. It was a horrifying, beautiful duel between the King's two strongest knights.

Amidst the divine civil war, Kikoru scrambled behind the overturned table. Her mind, which should have been analyzing combat data, was a maelstrom of shock and a lingering, burning humiliation. She snatched her discarded flak jacket from the floor and held it in front of her, a flimsy shield for both her body and her shattered pride. Peeking over the edge, her eyes widened. She wasn't watching a fight. She was watching a myth tear itself apart.

The Architect watched the spectacle with cold, academic satisfaction. [Behold, Monarch. The fragility of loyalty. A simple command injection, and your most devoted creation turns on you. This is the flaw in your design. You give them a semblance of will. We prefer absolute obedience.]

Jin-Woo's eyes, which had been wide with fury, narrowed into slits of pure, glacial rage. He ignored the Architect. He ignored the battle. His focus was entirely on Beru. The bond between them—the unbreakable link between the Shadow Monarch and his soldier—was being violated. It felt like a part of his own soul was being torn out and used to strangle him.

"Enough," he commanded. The word was quiet, but it resonated with the authority of creation itself.

He raised a hand, not toward the Architect, but toward his rampaging ant-knight. A chain of pure, black shadow shot from his palm, wrapping around Beru's chest and yanking him back. Beru fought against it, his strength immense, but he was pulling against the very source of his power. It was like a wave trying to fight the ocean.

[Resistance futile! Command absolute!] Beru's corrupted mind shrieked.

Jin-Woo took a step forward, the temperature in the room plummeting. Frost spiderwebbed across the floor around his bare feet. His voice was no longer human. It was a layered, echoing command that vibrated in the very essence of the shadow.

"You are a soldier of the abyss. A fragment of my will. I am your creator, your sovereign, and your King."

He pulled the shadow chain tighter, forcing the struggling Beru to his knees. The crimson light in Beru's eyes fought violently against a rising tide of pure violet.

"The Architect's voice is a parasite. An echo," Jin-Woo's command bored into Beru's consciousness. "Mine is the source code. Mine is the absolute truth."

He stood directly before his kneeling knight, looking down at the creature torn between two masters. He asked the question that would shatter the foreign influence, the one question that defined Beru's entire being.

"Beru. Who is your King?"

The question struck Beru like a bolt of lightning. The crimson energy convulsed, fighting a losing battle against the pure, unadulterated loyalty that formed his core. A guttural, agonized sound ripped from his throat as the two commands warred within him.

And then, his own voice, frantic and desperate, broke through the psychic static. [My King… My King is… the one who gave me life! The strongest! The greatest! My King is Sung… JIN-WOO!]

The crimson light in his eyes shattered like glass, vanishing completely. The pure, devoted violet returned, brighter and more fervent than ever. The Architect's control was broken.

Beru stared at his own claws, then at Jin-Woo, and a sound of utter horror and self-loathing escaped him. He threw himself flat on the ground, prostrating himself with such force that the concrete cracked.

[I have sinned! I have sinned against my King!] his telepathic voice wailed, filled with genuine despair. [I raised my claw against my master! I am unworthy! Please, my King, grant me the mercy of extinction! Erase this flawed servant from your legion!]

Jin-Woo looked down at his groveling knight, the cold fury on his face softening into something more complex. He had not lost his soldier. He had reclaimed him.

His attention finally snapped back to the Architect. But the robed figure was already gliding backward into the ruined doorway.

[Fascinating,] the Architect's voice echoed, devoid of disappointment. It had gotten what it came for: data. [The core programming is more resilient than anticipated. The bond is… anomalous. No matter. We have confirmed your presence. We have assessed the native power level. This world is now our laboratory. The experiment has begun.]

With a final, chilling whisper, the Architect dissolved into the shadows of the corridor and was gone.

Silence fell, broken only by Beru's pathetic psychic whimpering.

Igris silently sheathed his sword and returned to his master's side, a motionless sentinel. Mina Ashiro slowly stood up, her face pale. She had just witnessed a war of gods fought over the soul of a monster, waged by beings who saw their universe as a game. Her entire worldview had been irrevocably shattered.

Jin-Woo dismissed his knights. Beru and Igris melted back into his shadow, leaving behind only the evidence of their battle. He stood alone in the center of the wrecked room, shirtless, barefoot, a being of impossible power who was clearly at war with the creators of the universe.

He slowly turned, his gaze sweeping over the human survivors. He looked at Kikoru, still clutching her jacket. He looked at Mina, her tactical mind overloaded. And finally, his cold, violet eyes landed on Kafka Hibino, who was still trying to process the fact that he had accidentally ripped a girl's shirt moments before a cosmic horror tried to kidnap him.

Jin-Woo's patience had run out. The Architect's appearance had changed everything. This wasn't a puzzle anymore. It was a war front. And he needed intel.

"The introductions are over," Jin-Woo said, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. He took a step toward Kafka, his shadow stretching out before him like a hunter's net.

"Your turn, liar."