BUTTERFLY ESTATE – 25 MINUTES
BEFORE THE ENCOUNTER WITH DŌMA
Third Person POV
The Butterfly Estate basked in a fleeting calm, its wooden porch warmed by the moonlight. Cherry blossoms drifted lazily from the trees, their petals catching the dark blue light like soft pink embers.
The air carried the sweet scent of wisteria, mingling with the faint hum of cicadas in the distance.
Alex lay sprawled on the porch, his head nestled in Shinobu's lap, her delicate fingers threading through his hair as she hummed softly to the music pulsing through the earphones he'd gifted her.
Her violet eyes sparkled with a rare warmth, her lips curved in a gentle smile, but her shoulders were tense, as if she sensed the storm brewing.
Alex's face was relaxed, his eyes half-closed, but his fingers twitched restlessly, betraying the unease simmering beneath his calm exterior.
The moment felt like a stolen breath—precious, fragile, and doomed to shatter.
And shatter it did.
A portal shimmered open in the courtyard, its edges crackling with an unnatural glow. Cara stepped through, her boots clicking sharply against the stone path, her face set in a grim line.
Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked to Alex, and her posture—rigid, shoulders squared—screamed urgency. Behind her, Rengoku's fiery hair was disheveled, his usual grin replaced by a tight frown, his hands clenched at his sides.
Tengen followed, his flamboyant air subdued, his jaw tight, his eyes darting like a predator sensing a trap. Their expressions hit Alex like a punch to the gut.
He sat up abruptly, his easy smile vanishing, his eyes narrowing as he read the tension in their faces. "Muzan's made his move, hasn't he?" he said, his voice low but calm
Cara nodded, her lips pressed thin, her fingers flexing as if itching for a weapon.
"Three minutes ago, drones around every major village near the Corps picked up activity. Two villages already show signs of mass slaughter. Demons are ripping through civilians like paper." Her voice was clipped, but a tremor of anger betrayed her usual composure, her eyes flashing with disgust.
Alex's face hardened. He stood, his movements sharp and deliberate, his hands curling into fists. "So Muzan's dividing our forces…" he murmured, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced. "Trying to spread us thin."
He turned to Rengoku and Tengen, his gaze piercing. "At least Nezuko's secure."
Rengoku's shoulders squared, his eyes blazing with resolve, though a flicker of worry crossed his face. "Yeah your plan to let her in that dimension was nice muzan won't be able to approach her in the state of chaos," he said, his voice firm but heavy, his hands resting on his sword's hilt.
Tengen nodded, his usual swagger replaced by a steely focus, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "Nezuko's untouchable in there with Tamayo," he said, his voice low.
Nezuko was safely inside the system space, along with Tamayo. She only came out in direct sunlight—her presence a calculated illusion to deceive Muzan.
As long as she occasionally appeared under the sun, even Nakime couldn't use her Blood Demon Art to forcefully teleport her.
She was out only to let muzan spy on her so he think she is in demon corps but also to say that we can mask her presence in the estate in night but he doesn't know that she is not even in the same dimension.
The moment the sun set, Alex would instantly teleport Nezuko back into the system space.
The courtyard doors burst open with a bang, and Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu sprinted in, their faces flushed, their breaths slightly gasped for air. Tanjiro's eyes were wide with panic, his hands trembling, his chest heaving.
"Some of the Slayers are disappearing!" Zenitsu wailed, his voice cracking as he flailed his arms, his blonde hair bouncing wildly.
"Tatami-like doors are opening beneath them same as when Alex-san was fighting Akaza—and they're gone!" His eyes were huge, his face pale, but his feet were planted firm, as if fighting his own fear.
"Muzan's not just splitting our numbers," Alex said, his voice cold and sharp. "He's pulling our force into the Infinity Castle."
Rengoku stepped up beside him, his expression steely.
"Cara," Alex said sharply, "connect all the drones. Now."
Cara's eyes flickered, her interface glowing across her palm as she tapped a command. "Connection is secured Alex," she said, her voice steady but urgent, her fingers moving with mechanical precision.
Alex grabbed the microphone device from her, his movements swift, his eyes blazing with authority. "Listen to me—all of you, this is ALEX," he said, his voice booming through every drone's speaker, cutting through the chaos like a blade through silk.
His posture was commanding, his shoulders broad, his face etched with unyielding resolve. "We're under attack. Some of you may be pulled into the Infinity Castle. Stay calm. Stay alert."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over his allies—Tanjiro's earnest eyes, Rengoku's fiery stance, Shinobu's quiet intensity, Tengen's coiled tension, Inosuke's restless energy, and Zenitsu's trembling determination.
"You've trained for this. You've fought in simulations. If you're pulled in, don't panic. Group up. Fight smart. Cover each other." His voice rose, each word a spark igniting their courage.
"If you're in danger, rip the paper mark I gave you. It'll signal your location. Use the healing potions only when you're at death's door or completely spent. Conserve your strength."
The potions, though potent, were mere shadows of Alex's original elixirs. They could mend wounds, slow bleeding, and restore stamina, but they couldn't rebuild limbs or defy death.
Alex's jaw tightened at the thought, his eyes flickering with frustration, but he pushed it aside. "We will see tomorrow's sun," he declared, his voice ringing with fire, his fists clenched at his sides.
"A sun where no demon HIDE beneath the sky we stand under… and a night where no lives are SLAUGHTERED"
A heavy silence fell the weight of his words settling over the group. Tanjiro's eyes shone with resolve, his hands steadying on his sword. Shinobu's smile softened, her fingers brushing the earphones around her neck, a quiet gesture of trust.
But a door opened voice rang in that silence.
"Tanjiro!" Shinobu's voice cut through the quiet, sharp, and urgent, her eyes wide with alarm. Tanjiro, who was ten meters away, a tatami-patterned portal cracked open beneath Tanjiro's feet. He stumbled, his face twisting in shock, his hands reaching out as he fell through, vanishing in a heartbeat.
"Zenitsu!" Rengoku bellowed, his voice raw as another portal swallowed the blonde boy, his scream fading into silence.
"GOMBPACHIRO! MENITSU!" Inosuke roared, mangling their names as he charged the closing portal, his fists pounding the ground with a dull thud. His boar mask tilted, his shoulders heaving with frustration, his blades twitching in his hands.
Alex's eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. "Cara, how many are gone?" he snapped, his voice edged with barely contained fury.
Cara's interface pulsed, her eyes flickering as she scanned the data. "At least half," she said, her voice grim, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"The main force: Stone Hashira, Snake Hashira, Wind Hashira, Water Hashira, former Flame Hashira, former Thunder Hashira, former Water Hashira, Genya, Tanjiro, and Zenitsu—all pulled in." Her hands clenched, her posture rigid, as if fighting the urge to dive into the fray herself.
Alex's teeth ground together, his eyes blazing. "They really did a number on us…" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His fists tightened, his shoulders trembling with restrained rage.
Every fiber of his being screamed to teleport to Muzan, to end this now, but the strategist in him held him back. "No. Not yet," he whispered, his lips barely moving, his eyes distant as his mind raced.
"Cara, I'm going to transfer you into the Infinity Castle with the Spade Attack Unit," I said firmly, my tone sharp and calculated. "Use the gear we designed specifically to counter those demons. Make sure they realize—"
I paused, eyes narrowing, "they didn't trap us in the Infinity Castle... we trapped them with us."
As he approached Cara and held her hand he vanished with her and appeared in 3 seconds alone.
He turned to the others, his face like stone. "First, the villages. If we kill every demon but lose every civilian, we've failed." His voice was steel, his posture unyielding, but a flicker of worry crossed his eyes—a rare crack in his armor.
If I were Muzan… he thought, his mind spinning. Divide the forces. Eliminate the elite. Lure me into a trap. Poison? Illusions? An explosion trap like the original timeline?
His lips twitched into a crooked half-smile, a spark of dark humor in his eyes. That 144p Michael Jackson's finally using his brain, huh?
He exhaled, his gaze lifting to the sky, his posture steadying. "Alright, Muzan. Let's see what you've got."
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**UNKNOWN VILLAGE (25 MINUTES LATER)**
*Alex POV*
The village was a graveyard of ruin, its wooden houses reduced to smoldering husks, their roofs caved in like broken skulls. The air reeked of blood and ash, thick with the screams of the dying and the laughter of demons.
Flickering flames cast jagged shadows across the cracked streets, where bodies lay strewn like discarded toys. The distant clang of steel and the hum of UV emitters echoed, a faint hope in the chaos.
"Fight without opening your filthy mouth," I said, my voice cutting through the night like a blade, cold and sharp as a winter storm. My eyes locked on Dōma, Upper Moon Two, his smug grin faltering under my gaze.
My leg shot forward, a cannon of raw power only using slight force but still it was in about half tons of force I used on Akaza, and my foot slammed into Dōma's face with a sickening crunch, like a watermelon under a sledgehammer.
Blood sprayed, his jaw shattering, fragments flying as his body hurtled through the air, a broken ragdoll. He crashed into a wall, the impact shaking the ground, his mangled face twitching in shock. I stood, leg still raised, my eyes burning with silent rage, my posture radiating menace.
"I'll leave this to you, love," I said to Shinobu, my voice softening but firm, my gaze never leaving Dōma's twitching form.
"Don't let anger consume you. Use that— For safety."I said to shinobu. Who clutch the object in her pocket.
My eyes then flicked to Inosuke, his boar mask tilted, his shoulders heaving with restless energy. "You too, Inosuke and Kanao this is also your revenge" My tone was sharp, a command wrapped in trust, my hand gesturing toward the demon with a flick of disdain.
I scanned the carnage, my heart twisting at the screams echoing through the ruins. "I'm going now. You finish this," I said, my voice low but resolute.
I vanished, moving at Mach 4, a sonic boom trailing behind me. My chakra surged, jōnin-level control keeping my body intact as I tore through the village.
I reached another street, where three demons circled a trembling eight-year-old boy, his knees bloodied, his eyes wide with terror. His mother lay nearby, her chest still, her face pale.
"O-okaa-san"who wimpered and cried as he pushes her mother.
"Kekeke… Dance for us, boy," one demon cackled, licking blood from its claws, its lips curled in a cruel smirk. Its eyes gleamed with sadistic glee, its posture lazy but predatory.
"Sun Breathing – Ninth Form: Dragon Sun Halo Head Dance," I intoned, my voice calm but deadly, my hand resting on my blade's hilt.
I moved before they could blink, my sword a blazing arc of fire and death. Their heads hit the ground in unison—three dull thunks echoing in the silence.
I sheathed my blade, my movements fluid, my face impassive, though my eyes burned with quiet fury. "Spade Unit, take them to the infirmary," I ordered, pointing to the boy and his mother, my voice steady but urgent.
The Spade Unit materialized, their armor glinting in the firelight, their movements silent and efficient.
As I saved the remaining survivors of the village who were hiding or stuck in the debris, it took some time. Meanwhile, the fighting on three sides against the Upper Moon was intensifying.
Mist and Love Hashira have already defeated Upper Moon 4, as they had already activated their demon marks.
I leaped to a rooftop, my heart sinking at the sight below—corpses strewn across the streets, demons laughing as they slaughtered, blood pooling like rivers.
But hope flickered: Spade Attack Units fought alongside Demon Slayers, their UV emitters weakening demons, giving even low-ranked Slayers a chance. I exhaled, my breath visible in the cold air, my face hardening.
"So this is your idea of fun, Muzan? A slaughterhouse?" I muttered, my voice laced with disgust. The red mark on my forehead flared, my eyes glowing white as the Transparent World snapped into focus. Time slowed, every movement clear as crystal.
"Sun Breathing – Fifteenth Form: Crimson Sword,"
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20 minutes ago(right after when Alex leave Shinobu)
*Third Person POV*
The village streets were a battlefield of ruin, the air thick with smoke and the stench of blood. Collapsed buildings loomed like broken bones, their timbers charred and splintered.
The ground was slick with crimson, reflecting the flickering flames that danced in the wreckage. Screams and the clash of steel formed a grim symphony, underscored by the faint hum of UV emitters.
"So… how did you like the kick from the man who severed your legs before you even finished threatening him?" Shinobu's voice was soft but venomous, her smile sharp as a blade, her violet eyes glinting with cold resolve.
Her posture was relaxed, but her fingers tightened around her blade, her shoulders trembling with barely contained rage.
Dōma's grin was gone, his face twitching with fury, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to his feet. His jaw was a mess of blood and bone, his posture unsteady, but his pride burned brighter than his pain.
"He played me like a toy…" he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl, his hands clenching into fists. He forced a smile, his eyes glowing with malice, though his trembling legs betrayed his weakened state.
"Blood Demon Art: Frozen Lotus,"
his voice cold and deliberate, his arms sweeping with elegant cruelty.
The air chilled, frost spiderwebbing across the ground as ice lotuses bloomed mid-air, their petals sharp as daggers. Dōma's movements were graceful, his eyes scanning for openings, his posture predatory despite his injuries.
Shinobu's eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. "Stay away from the lotuses! Don't strike them—it'll create fog, letting him control the battlefield with ice!" Her words were a command, her stance steady, her face set in fierce determination.
Inosuke and Kanao nodded, dropping into defensive stances, their eyes locked on Dōma. Inosuke's boar mask tilted, his shoulders heaving with eager energy, his blades twitching in his hands.
Kanao's face was calm, but her eyes burned with quiet resolve, her body coiled like a spring.
Dōma's lips curled, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. "You know my Blood Demon Art?" he murmured, his voice low and intrigued. "Did your sister leave a journal? No… she didn't have time, did she?" His taunt was sharp, but his posture wavered, his poisoned arm trembling.
Shinobu didn't answer. She moved, her body a blur of speed.
"Insect Breathing: Dance of the Butterfly – Caprice!" she shouted, her blade flashing like a needle of moonlight, aiming for Dōma's throat. Her movements were fluid, her face set in a mask of focus, her eyes blazing with vengeance.
Dōma swung his fan, but he was too slow becasue of wound inflicted on his leg by Alex—her blade nicked his shoulder, poison surging into his blood. His eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his face, his posture faltering. "So this is what death tastes like…" he murmured, his voice soft but strained.
"TAKE THAT, YOU SOMA!" Inosuke roared, his voice wild as he charged, his twin blades crossing in a frenzy.
"Beast Breathing: Eighth Fang – Explosive Rush!" His speed was blinding, his boar mask tilted at a reckless angle, his muscles bulging with primal rage. Dōma raised his fan, but his poisoned arm faltered, white pus oozing from the wound.
Shinobu's new poison—crafted with Cara's help—crippled his regeneration, his balance wavering. He flung his left arm into Inosuke's path, sacrificing it to block the strike. Blood sprayed, freezing instantly, locking Inosuke's blade in ice.
Inosuke snarled, struggling to free his weapon, his shoulders heaving with frustration.
Dōma whispered, "Blood Demon Art: Lotus Ice," his voice cold as he launched a spear-shaped lotus at Inosuke. Shinobu moved to intercept, but a blast of icy wind from Dōma's poisoned arm blocked her, her eyes narrowing in frustration.
Kanao surged forward. "Flower Breathing: Sixth Form – Whirling Peach!" she called, her body spinning like a dancer, her blade a blur of grace and precision.
Her face was calm, but her eyes burned with determination, her movements weaving through the ice lotus. She redirected its trajectory with a flick of her sword, sending it crashing into the ground, where it shattered into glittering fragments. Inosuke stumbled back, panting, his mask tilted.
"Tch—you saved me, huh?! Damn! That was close…" he muttered, his voice gruff but grateful.
"Don't get cocky," Kanao said softly, her voice steady, her stance aggressive yet controlled, her eyes never leaving Dōma.
His grin returned, strained and forced, his poisoned arm twitching, his vision flickering. "Lovely little insects dancing in the snow…" he whispered, his voice dripping with false charm, his posture unsteady.
The temperature plummeted, frost creeping across the battlefield, roof tiles cracking under the cold.
Shinobu's breath misted, her eyes narrowing, her fingers tightening around her blade. "We end this quickly," she said, her voice low and resolute, her shoulders squared.
She almost lost someone close to her again.
Shinobu's eyes narrowed as she stared down Dōma. Her body trembled slightly—not from fear, but from something deeper.
Resolve.
She took a breath and let go of her pride.
Her hand moved to the delicate purple bracelet on her wrist—the one Alex had personally given her.
She tapped the purple bracelet on her wrist, and nano-tech shimmered, enveloping her in a glowing suit. It hugged her form, its joints pulsing with light, giving her an ethereal, vengeful aura.
Her hair fluttered in the wind, her face set in a deadly calm. "Now I will end this, Dōma," she said, her voice a promise of retribution.
She shot forward, the ground cracking beneath her enhanced strength, her blade flashing toward Dōma's throat. He raised his regenerated left arm, shock flickering in his eyes, but he blocked the strike, freezing her blade.
His lips curled into a smug grin. "You're faster now… but this is still the end, Shinob—" His words cut off as Shinobu's fist slammed into his jaw with 50 tons of force, the impact echoing like a thunderclap.
"KIYAAAH!!" Dōma shrieked like a kicked dog in falsetto.
His body flung through the air, crashing through an ice pillar and into a wall. His spine shattered, his arms flailing, his face twisted in shock and pain.
Inosuke blinked, his mask tilting. "Wait—SHE CAN PUNCH LIKE THAT NOW?!" he bellowed, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
Kanao's mouth parted, her eyes wide as she stared at Shinobu's smoking gloves. Shinobu exhaled, wiping frost from her cheek, her posture calm but deadly.
"I don't have time to play games with trash who freeze children to death," she said, her voice flat, her eyes burning. "Get up, if you still want to pretend you're worthy of being an Upper Moon."
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2 MINUTES BEFORE a bitch slap to DOMA
*Third Person POV*
Collapsed stalls and shattered lanterns littered the ground, their remains glowing faintly in the flickering flames. The grand shrine loomed in the distance, its roof glinting under the moonlight, a beacon amidst the ruin. The clash of steel and the hum of UV emitters formed a grim backdrop to the battle.
Rengoku and Tengen fought side by side against Daki and Gyutaro, their movements a symphony of fire and sound.
Rengoku's cape billowed, his face set in a fierce grin, his eyes blazing with resolve as he swung his blade.
"Flame Breathing – Fifth Form: Flame Tiger!" he roared,
a fiery beast tearing toward Daki. Her head rolled, regenerating instantly, her shrieks piercing the air. "Help me, Onii-chan!" she wailed, her eyes wide with panic, her hands clawing at the ground.
Gyutaro snarled, his grotesque form writhing, his scythes slashing with deadly precision. "Let go of me, you handsome-looking bastard!" he spat at Tengen, his eyes blazing with rage, his posture hunched and feral.
Tengen's grin was sharp, his movements fluid as he parried, his Demon Slayer Mark—a musical symbol behind his ear—pulsing with power. "Ha! You'll die in a flashy way!" he growled, his voice dripping with confidence, his shoulders squared.
"Killing innocents and now playing the victim? Pathetic!" His blades clashed against Gyutaro's, the air ringing with their duel.
"What does it matter? My sister is superior to all of them!" Gyutaro howled back, slashing his bloodied scythe chained with deadly precision toward Tengen's heart.
But the Sound Hashira was ready. Steel clashed against steel as he parried, the air ringing with the metallic symphony of war.
Just then, Muichiro and Mitsuri arrived, ready to lend their blades to the fray. But what they saw made them pause.
Both Rengoku and Tengen had awakened their Demon Slayer Marks. Rengoku's mark burned like a fiery flame upon his neck, while Tengen's mark resembled a musical symbol etched behind his ear, pulsing with power.
Muichiro's eyes were clear, no longer clouded by amnesia, his posture relaxed but ready, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
Mitsuri's cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkling with excitement, her stance eager. "They've got this," she whispered, her voice soft but proud, her hands clasped together. Muichiro nodded, his gaze steady, his bond with Tanjiro and the others fueling his resolve.
They turned to aid the civilians, but a glimpse of Shinobu's fight with Dōma stopped them. Her katana was caught, but she let it go, her fist slamming into Dōma's face with devastating force, sending him flying. Muichiro blinked, his face blank with shock.
"Did… Did Shinobu just punch Upper Moon Three?" he asked, his voice soft but incredulous. Mitsuri grinned, her eyes gleaming. "Yup. And I think she broke his face." They moved to help the others, confidence in their allies fueling their steps.
A crimson light erupted from the grand shrine, bathing the village in its glow. All eyes turned to it—human, demon, and Slayer alike—except Daki, still shrieking under Rengoku's strikes, and Dōma, reeling from Shinobu's punch. Shinobu's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with certainty.
"He's here," she whispered, her voice soft but triumphant.
"Sun Breathing – Fifteenth Form: Crimson Sword," Alex's voice echoed from the shrine, because of the slight silence.
Every being in the village—human, demon, and Demon Slayer alike—froze. Drawn to the blinding crimson light that burst forth and bathed the entire village in its glow.
That name—Crimson Sword—was not just a technique. It was finality incarnate.
This was the apex of Alex's swordsmanship—the culmination of everything he had mastered. His technique merged the sacred Sun Breathing Style with the blazing essence of Fire Chakra Nature, condensed into a single, celestial edge. A blade not just forged by steel, but by will.
Alex stood beyond the level of a sword master to a Great swordsman/master—his skill had transcended into a realm where the will of the sword evolved into sword intent, materializing from pure, radiant energy.
Though the blade shone like a second sun, casting light across rooftops and alleyways, there was a faint purple tinge along the edge. It glimmered like a predator's eye—sharp, merciless, hungry.
And then—he moved.
Alex vanished in a blink.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
One second later, a strange silence descended, followed by a low whoosh of air rushing to fill the space he had vacated.
Then—smoke.
It rolled through the village like mist. Whispering. Wrapping around corners, sliding beneath doors. And with it came a soft, sickening plop.
And another.
And another.
All across the battlefield, in the streets and on rooftops… demon heads began to fall.
Thud.
Plop.
Thump.
Splatter.
A rain of heads.
Screams of agony erupted like a chorus of the damned.
"AAAHHHH! WHY DOES IT HURT?!"
"Kill me! Please—kill me!!"
"No more—MAKE IT STOP!!"
The voices echoed from every direction, demons writhing as their heads hit the ground, their bodies convulsing in final torment.
They were not simply slain. No… they were judged. The sword intent embedded in the attack remained even after their heads had fallen, lingering like a curse. It tore at their souls, their nerves, their very will.
The pain was unimaginable—burning, cutting, eternal. As if their flesh was being sliced repeatedly with each breath. The only way to stop it… was to sever the part of the body marked by the intent.
But by then, most couldn't even move.
All across the battlefield, silence slowly returned.
Doma, Daki, and Gyutaro remained—the only survivors, left alive by Alex's deliberate design. The battlefield had fallen eerily silent. A faint crimson light lingered in the air, flickering like dying embers.
Shinobu stood still, her delicate smile unwavering, eyes locked onto the fading glow. Then, with a swift, graceful motion, she severed Dōma's head—his body already beaten and twisted, like a mangled corpse run over by a truck.
It was obvious.
She had tormented him. Slowly. Methodically.
And in the end, she made sure he felt everything—before delivering the final cut.
"He's pissed," she said, her voice a quiet vow of victory.
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Author's Note:
Please support the story by leaving a comment! Your thoughts, reactions, and feedback really help motivate me to keep going. Let me know what you think of the recent chapters!