Kuroko no Basket: Honored One

Rakuzan was on the rise.

Akashi had regained the complete Emperor Eye—his split soul had finally fused back into one.

On the court, the atmosphere was electric with the cheers of Rakuzan's fans.

Morale is something fragile: it surges first, then declines, and finally fades.

Right now, they were riding the highest wave of fighting spirit.

In contrast, Kirisaki Daiichi was beginning to falter.

Surrounded by the overwhelming noise, a creeping unease settled over them.

Liangfeng, one of the top creators in the Power Station anime community, had a massive fanbase.

Unlike most of his peers who preferred Tendou's overwhelming dominance, his favorite wasn't Tendou or even Kuroko—it was Akashi.

Seeing the return of Akashi's original personality, Liangfeng had been overwhelmed with joy.

But when the personalities merged, he felt a pang of sadness.

After all, no matter which side it was, they were both Akashi—and he loved them both.

Still, he understood.

『Even though I'm a little sad, personality split is still a kind of illness.』

『If Akashi can be whole again, I'm happy for him.』

『And also... damn it, Tendou, Demon King! You're really showing your full strength now, huh?!』

Other viewers heard his shouting and flooded the comment section.

Fans also picked their favorite content creators. For example, in FanGeGe's and Shuiping's camps, most of the followers were fans of Tendou.

They'd gather every day to follow the episodes together and passionately debate each play.

But in Liangfeng's domain, it was a haven for Akashi fans.

"Nice one, Kotaro! He made the free throw—game's tied!" Liangfeng shouted with passion.

Even though it wasn't a real match—and he already knew the outcome had been predetermined—it felt like watching a live broadcast.

That's the magic of Kuroko no Basket.

More often than not, he genuinely felt like it was live, like nothing had been scripted in advance.

The camera panned to the live audience: the fans were roaring, while Kirisaki Daiichi's players wore grim expressions.

Hanamiya was gritting his teeth, and the tension across the court was palpable.

Everything looked like it was tilting toward Rakuzan's victory.

Until the camera turned to Tendou—who let out a sigh.

『What's that sigh about?』

『Hey, stop it, Tendou! You're not allowed to open a new cheat mode! You can't just keep leveling up like this!』

As soon as Liangfeng heard it, the hype music suddenly cut out.

The air turned still and quiet—an ominous silence.

He had a bad feeling.

Every time a major character or new power debuted, the show would deliberately cut the background music to build tension and pressure.

Thump!

The ball hit the floor with a dull thud. Once, twice, three times.

Each bounce felt like it was pounding directly against Liangfeng's heart.

He watched Tendou slowly dribble past half-court, and his sense of unease deepened.

"No… you can't… damn it, Tendou, don't do this!"

Tendou hadn't even made a move yet, and Liangfeng was already howling in panic.

But Tendou's response was simply that devastatingly handsome face—one that made men jealous and women crazy.

His Six Eyes glowed like sapphires, radiating an icy blue light.

He was calm and composed as he once again dribbled toward Akashi, who stood firmly in defense—no longer as afraid as before.

Now that Akashi had become whole, like Tendou, he could see everyone's future.

But then—

Drip.

Liangfeng saw a droplet of water fall on the screen. It was like it had dropped from the sky—he couldn't even tell where it came from.

It just… fell.

It struck the court floor, which should've been solid, yet ripples spread out like it was a calm lake.

Then Tendou's magnetic voice came through the speakers, reaching Liangfeng's ears.

"Domain Expansion."

"Unlimited Void."

Vmmm—

After those two words came a deafening hum, as if a divine instrument had been struck.

Liangfeng's eyes widened. So did Akashi's.

Suddenly, their entire world turned upside down.

They felt like they had been cast into outer space.

All around them stretched the vast universe.

Countless stars surged toward them—so many it was impossible to count, or even comprehend.

Boom!

The basketball bounced off the floor again and returned to Tendou's hand.

Only then did the spectators snap out of it—only to realize Tendou was now behind Akashi.

Liangfeng spread his hands toward the camera. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Swish.

The ball went in.

The arena was dead silent.

Only the sound of the basketball bouncing on the floor remained, echoing again and again—an eerie punctuation mark to what had just happened.

In the stands, cold sweat rolled down Midorima's cheek.

"What… just happened?!"

No one understood.

All they saw was Akashi frozen in place, letting Tendou pass by him like he was paralyzed.

Momoi pursed her lips and said, "Unlimited Void… the sixth ability of Tendou's Six Eyes!"

She had already confirmed that this strange domain was Tendou's sixth ability.

"What's Unlimited Void?" Kise and the others turned toward her in confusion.

"I can't explain it clearly… but once he opens that domain, any player who comes near him is flooded with incomprehensible information."

"What? What are you even talking about?"

"I'm telling you I don't know either!" Momoi tried to recall the experience from that day. "In basketball—whether it's one-on-one or a group play—you always think before you act, right?"

"Of course," Midorima pushed up his glasses. "Even Aomine—despite his phenomenal instincts—ultimately gives commands through his brain."

That was the fundamental principle of basketball.

Even someone as impulsive as Hayama Kotarou would always think, which direction gives me the best chance of breaking through?

"Unlimited Void targets that exact thought process—it floods you with endless information."

"For example: 'If you do this, then that will happen. If you do that, then here's the consequence…'"

"You mean simulated scenarios in your brain before you act, right?" Aomine shot a glance at his childhood friend.

Even he, every time he attacked or defended, would mentally simulate the opponent's reactions and responses.

The brain always pre-processes things in order to instruct the body in real time.

"Yes, exactly," Momoi nodded.

"So what does that have to do with Tendou's ability?" Aomine asked.

Momoi replied, "The connection is—Tendou can break all of those simulations."

She shared what it felt like to face Unlimited Void.

No matter how hard your brain tried to simulate a move, it couldn't find a solution.

It just kept telling you: you can't win.

The feeling was suffocating and despair-inducing.

"No way… something like that exists?"

"I was shocked too," Momoi admitted. "Your brain keeps running wild, and you can't stop it."

She patted her chest, still unsettled from the memory.

But what Midorima found truly terrifying wasn't the inability to stop thinking.

Humans were creatures of thought—that was normal.

The terrifying part was this: no matter what you simulated, every path led to failure.

That meant, no matter what you tried, Tendou could counter it.

"Then what about Akashi?"

"He has the Emperor Eye—his strategic insight is unmatched. He shouldn't break down like I did," Momoi said.

"Geez, Aomine, you're awful. Who are you calling a moron?"

But Aomine ignored her complaint.

"Still," he said, "if the amount of data flooding his brain is that overwhelming, even the most powerful mind will lag."

"In other words…" Midorima added the final point, "Akashi's reactions will slow down. And once that happens… he'll no longer be able to keep up with Tendou."