The vibrations beneath his feet were changing.
This was not the low hum from before. The molecular structure of the entire floor was being rearranged by an outside force. Yaha's left foot stopped midway through his second step. The sensation beneath his sole told him someone was tampering with the spatial coordinates under the stone slabs.
All four walls moved.
They were not collapsing. They were contracting. The four stone walls remaining around the ruined Japanese-style room squeezed toward the center at a visible speed. The ceiling sank at the same time, and the floor bulged upward. The entire space was like a fist clenching tight, ready to grind everything inside to dust.
Nakime's handiwork.
Far away, in the control room at the top of the Infinity Castle.
Nakime's fingers plucked the strings of her spare biwa, her only remaining eye fixed on the stream of feedback from her Cursed Technique. Her fingers moved three times faster than usual. Each string's vibration corresponded to another fold and compression of the space below.
Muzan stood behind her, grinding the words out between his teeth. "Now. While his right hand is still useless, while the conflict between his sources of power is still tearing his meridians apart. Compress that space into a sheet of paper."
Nakime sped up.
In the Japanese-style room below.
The walls were closing in faster than an ordinary person could run. The distance between the stone walls on either side shrank from twelve meters to eight. The ceiling dropped from three meters overhead to two and a half. The air was physically compressed, and the sudden change in pressure sent a dull ache through Shinobu Kocho's eardrums.
She glanced around, her Nichirin Blade already in hand.
Yaha stood motionless.
His right hand hung at his side, wrapped in