Third Person POV
The dust had begun to settle.
The forest, once screaming, now whispered—leaves twitching like they were afraid to breathe. Ash drifted down from the broken canopy above, glowing faintly in the fading light.
Killua stood with his back to the crater, shoulders tense, sparks still dancing weakly from his fingertips. Gon was kneeling behind him, one hand pressed to the wound in his side, panting.
Silence.
Too quiet.
But neither of them moved.
"...You shouldn't have come," Gon said finally, voice hoarse.
Killua didn't turn around.
"I didn't need saving."
"You always say that," Killua snapped, spinning to face him. "Until you end up in a puddle of your own blood."
Their eyes met—charged. Not with electricity, but something worse. Something personal.
Gon's brow furrowed, jaw clenched. "I had him. If you hadn't stepped in—"
"You would've died," Killua cut in. "Again."
Gon's fists trembled. "You think I care?"
Killua stared at him.
"...You don't," he said quietly. "Not if it means killing Tress."
Gon flinched.
That name between them was a wound still bleeding.
Killua's voice dropped, softer but heavier. "She's not herself. You saw it."
"She tried to kill Rin."
"She wasn't in control."
Gon shook his head, eyes darkening. "That doesn't change what she did."
Killua took a slow step toward him. "Then let me remind you who you are. Because right now? You're not him."
That hit deeper than any wound. Gon looked away.
His voice cracked, low. "I can't protect anyone if I hesitate."
"You hesitate because you're human, Gon."
A beat.
Then—the forest exhaled.
Both boys froze.
Killua's eyes flicked to the crater.
"No," Gon muttered. "That should've—"
But it didn't.
The crater moved.
Rocks lifted unnaturally. Roots twitched like limbs. The light in the pit shifted from ember-glow to sickly green. And from the center—
A figure rose.
Quinto.
No longer just a man.
Something else.
His arms were elongated, covered in bark-like armor pulsing with veins of green light. His face was cracked—literally—split down the center with darkness leaking through. The vines had merged fully now, lacing through his flesh, replacing pieces of him. His voice, when it came, was layered and inhuman.
"Now... this is better."
Killua stepped in front of Gon instinctively.
Gon rose to his feet anyway, eyes burning. "He's still standing."
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