The golden veins of Nioh's mecha suit pulsed furiously—blinding streams of molten light streaked along his frame, as if threatening to burst from the pressure building within. The circuits, now swollen with gluttonous energy and layered sound, quivered with unstable potential. But something deeper stirred beneath the red and white—a third hue, unfamiliar yet undeniable. A new beginning. A catalyst born of fusion, planning, and sacrifice.
His knees buckled. He hit the ground with a snarl, his body convulsing as the last remnants of Hellenergy slammed into his chest like a divine strike, momentarily sending his aura spiraling into chaos.
And then—
A hiss.
Without warning, a stealth module deactivated just behind him.
The cloaking veil peeled away in strips of flickering light, like surgical incisions through reality. The assassin emerged. No hesitation. No emotion. Just cold execution.
