Xiao Zheng wiped his katana clean with a slow, deliberate swipe, the blood of Kyoto's last bio-soldiers staining the cloth red under the dim glow of a riverside lantern. The blade gleamed, sharp and hungry, but his scowl deepened with every stroke—too little fight left in the night, too much quiet. Kyoto sprawled around him, its ancient streets finally still, the temple's shadow a distant memory of Chen's end. Feng Ruoxi stood nearby, her dark hair tangled with sweat and Yukang's blood, the phoenix tattoo on her wrist glowing faintly, its whisper, "The fire rises…" a soft pulse she barely noticed. Her chest ached from old wounds, her fire simmering low, but her eyes burned with a resolve hardened by Tanaka's treachery and the new name on her lips—Liang Zhao.