Jayr POV - Nasuverse, Moon, SE.RA.PH, Tsukumihara Academy - 2030 AD
Once again, I wake up to singing.
Not soft humming, not casual murmuring, full, unrestrained singing, loud, clear, shamelessly theatrical, and catastrophically out of tune.
It echoes from the bathroom on the far side of the Private Room, bouncing off polished walls and artificial ceilings with the confidence of someone who has never once worried about neighbours or consequences.
The hiss of the shower runs beneath it, a futile attempt to drown out Nero's voice as she belts the melody with enough passion to rival a stage performance.
"…Let it go, let it go!"
I groan and drag the pillow over my head, pressing it hard against my ears. It doesn't help; nothing ever does.
Ever since yesterday evening, this has become my new morning alarm.
Last night, after returning from the Arena with the Secondary Trigger safely secured and Li Shuwen repelled for the second time, I made the mistake of indulging Nero's enthusiasm.
She had insisted, well, more like demanded, that we watch Frozen II together, and I'd thought it would be quiet, relaxing, a way to let the tension bleed out of our systems.
I was wrong, impressively, catastrophically wrong.
Now the consequences are alive, echoing, and somehow hitting notes that I didn't even know existed before.
Steam billows as the bathroom door slides open, and Nero steps out as if making an entrance onto a grand stage.
Her hair is damp, clinging loosely to her shoulders, skin warm from the shower, eyes bright and energised in a way that should be illegal this early in the morning.
She is completely naked and entirely unapologetic about it.
She continues singing for several more seconds, spinning once as if to acknowledge an imaginary audience, before finally stopping with a satisfied breath.
Hands on her hips, she smiles like someone who knows they've just conquered the world before she declares, "Ah, what a glorious song! Truly, the emotions! The liberation! The sheer dramatic splendour! I simply cannot get enough of it."
I sit up slowly, blinking blearily as I rub at my temples before I mutter, voice rough with sleep, "You know, most people stop singing after the credits roll."
She laughs and waves a hand dismissively, "Nonsense. Most people lack conviction. Besides..." Then she leans closer, peering down at me with a grin that's all teeth and mischief, "... It is far too early to restrain oneself."
I sigh, letting the pillow fall back onto the bed. Despite myself, I smile.
As absurd as it is, moments like this feel grounding, almost normal.
Which is strange, considering we're in the middle of a Holy Grail War governed by an almost omnipotent supercomputer, with Champions bending fate and narratives unravelling at the seams.
Still, for a brief moment, it's just an emperor singing show tunes in my private room, and me wondering how this became my life.
The chaos of the morning eventually settles into something resembling routine.
I escape to the bathroom while Nero hums to herself on the other side of the room, thankfully quieter now, the tune drifting lazily instead of assaulting my senses.
By the time I return, dressed and marginally more awake, the Private Room smells faintly of food.
I keep breakfast simple, efficient, something warm, filling, and nutritionally sound.
Weeks of survival, combat, and unexpected surprises have burned the habit deep into me; food is fuel first, indulgence second.
Nero, of course, disagrees with this philosophy entirely.
She eats with her usual enthusiasm, posture relaxed, but presence impossible to ignore.
Every bite is accompanied by commentary, not on the meal itself but on last night's movie.
The songs, the spectacle, the emotional arcs, she gestures with her fork as if addressing an audience, eyes alight with genuine interest rather than passing amusement.
"The way she sings," Nero says between bites, "not to inspire others, but to affirm herself… it is powerful."
She pauses, expression briefly thoughtful, "To cast aside fear and expectation. A ruler who learns to accept herself rather than a throne imposed upon her."
I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a slow sip, letting the bitterness settle me, "It resonated with you."
"Of course it did," she replies easily, then, after a moment, more quietly, "There is something familiar in such tales."
I don't press her on it; I don't need to.
We eat in companionable silence for a few moments, broken only by the faint ambient hum of SE.RA.PH beyond the walls.
Eventually, the conversation drifts, naturally and inevitably, back to our adventure in the Arena.
Li Shuwen.
I think back to his ambush, the precision of his movements, the way every strike had carried intent, no wasted motion, no hesitation, the moment our fists met, the flash of respect in his eyes, 'I truly had some fun… Nothing makes my blood pump faster than a good old battle.'
Nero notices the shift in my focus before I say a word; she always does.
Nero smiles, her pride unmistakable as she comments, "You handled yourself splendidly, my Praetor. To face such a master barehanded and not only endure but push him back with such finesse… Umu. You truly are one of the finest warriors I have had the pleasure of knowing."
Her praise carries weight as Nero does not flatter lightly, at least not others, and certainly not without reason.
I shrug, though a part of me warms at the approval, "He was strong. And honest, in his own way."
She agrees, "Indeed, a man who lives for the clash of wills. Such individuals are rare."
Eventually, the topic shifts to what comes next, or rather, what doesn't.
I lean back on the chair slightly and say, "We already have both Triggers. We know everything we need to know about Julius, and the same can be said about Li Shuwen. There's nothing left to uncover about our next opponent."
In response to that, Nero taps a finger against her chin, considering, then she muses, "For once, the battlefield grows quiet."
I agree and continue, "For now. Which means we can afford to slow down and relax a bit more. The next couple of days should be spent keeping a clear head. Help Aletha, if possible." I glance at the terminal resting nearby and add, "We're scheduled to meet her again this afternoon and see if she has uncovered anything else about the Champion of Darkness."
At that, Nero's expression brightens immediately, her earlier thoughtfulness swept aside by a familiar gleam of excitement.
Then she begins, clasping her hands together, eyes shining, "So… leisure?"
I hesitate for exactly half a second.
She doesn't give me more before she declares with imperial authority, "Another Disney epic! To pass the morning!"
At this point, I know better than to argue and say, I sigh, already defeated, "Fine. However, today we're watching something a little different."
Her eyebrow arches, intrigued as I say, "The Lion King."
She smiles, slow and pleased, "Umu. From its name, it seems a tale of kings, inheritance, and destiny? An excellent choice, my Praetor."
There's no point delaying the inevitable.
I stand and stretch once, feeling the last traces of stiffness leave my shoulders, then reach inward and activate my Spiral Cosmo.
The air in front of us ripples, space folding smoothly as prismatic lines trace themselves into existence, and a moment later, the Private Room transforms.
A massive floating screen materialises first, hovering comfortably at eye level.
Surround sound speakers emerge from the walls themselves, seamlessly integrated as if they'd always been there. The lighting softens, dimming to a warm, theatre-like glow. Plush seating replaces the standard furniture, wide and cushioned enough to invite relaxation without sacrificing posture.
It's sleek, modern, excessive in all the right ways.
Nero watches the transformation with open delight, eyes glittering as she slowly turns in place, "Umu! A private amphitheatre, conjured at a whim."
She spreads her arms as if to embrace the room, "How could I not approve? Truly, you understand the heart of your emperor."
I say dryly, "High praise."
She replies without hesitation, "And well earned."
I open a small portal to my Soulbound Territory and retrieve a bowl of popcorn so large it borders on absurd.
The kernels are warm, freshly popped, the faint scent of butter immediately filling the room.
Nero stares at it, then at me, then back at the bowl before she solemnly says, "That is no mere snack. It is a feast."
"It's popcorn."
"It is imperial popcorn."
She accepts it with reverence, settling onto the couch with exaggerated care as if afraid the moment might break if rushed.
I follow a second later, slotting in beside her. She leans in without hesitation, her shoulder pressing comfortably against mine, warmth seeping through the thin barrier of clothing.
I recreate the movie from memory, reconstructing every frame, every note, every transition with practised precision before feeding it into the player.
The screen flickers once, then steadies.
Then the opening note rings out.
As the masterpiece composed by Elton John and Han Zimmer and written by Tim Rice, The Circle of Life begins, the screen floods with warm colours and sweeping motion.
Animals gather around Pride Rock, the rising sun bathing the savanna in gold as the music swells, powerful and timeless.
Nero straightens slightly, popcorn momentarily forgotten, then she murmurs, eyes fixed on the screen, "Ah, what a beginning."
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. For all her theatrics, she's fully immersed, expression open, attentive. Not judging. Not analysing. Simply watching.
I rest my arm around her shoulders, and she shifts just enough to settle into the contact, satisfied.
The movie truly starts with a large number of animals gathering around Pride Rock in Africa, witnessing the arrival of King Mufasa and Queen Sarabi's newborn cub, Prince Simba.
She watches the procession toward Pride Rock with rapt attention, eyes following the slow, reverent movements of the animals as the music swells.
When Rafiki lifts the newborn Simba into the air, presenting him to the gathered kingdom, Nero lets out a soft, satisfied sound before she comments, nodding, "Umu. A proper introduction. Ceremony matters. A ruler must be seen before he is obeyed."
I smile faintly, "Even when he's just been born?"
She replies without looking away, "Especially then. The symbol comes before the man."
Then the king's younger brother, Scar, is displeased with the birth of Simba due to his status as the future king.
Scar's first appearance earns a very different reaction.
Nero's posture shifts almost immediately, her relaxed ease sharpening into alert interest.
She leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing as Scar slinks through the shadows, disdain dripping from every word he speaks, before she scoffs, "Hah. He carries resentment poorly. One can hear it in his voice."
I glance at her. "You're judging his leadership potential already?"
She says flatly, "I am judging his soul. And finding it wanting."
Mufasa confronts Scar about not attending the ceremony, but Scar shows disregard for his brother's displeasure.
Nero nods approvingly at the king's calm authority, the way his presence alone commands obedience. She then murmurs, "Strength without cruelty. That is the mark of a true king."
As a young cub, Simba is taught about being king by Mufasa, who says that everything the light touches is their kingdom.
While touring Pride Rock, Simba asks about a shadowy place in the distance, and Mufasa tells him it is beyond their borders and Simba must never go there.
As the movie moves into Simba's early lessons, Nero's tone lightens.
She laughs openly at the cub's enthusiasm, at his clumsy attempts to roar.
But when Mufasa explains the balance of the kingdom, the way all life is connected, she grows quiet again.
The lesson is stopped when Zazu, Mufasa's majordomo hornbill adviser, informs him that hyenas have entered the Pride Lands.
Mufasa tells Zazu to take Simba home while he gets rid of the hyenas.
Later that day, Scar tells Simba that the shadowy place is, in fact, an Elephant Graveyard.
Simba's curiosity is piqued, and he convinces his best friend Nala, a lioness cub, to come with him.
Sarabi sends Zazu to keep an eye on the two cubs, but they soon leave him behind.
They finally reach the elephant graveyard, where they come upon three spotted hyenas, Shenzi, Banzai and Ed.
This scene earns a sharp click of Nero's tongue as she says, "Curiosity without wisdom. A dangerous combination."
The hyenas chase after the cubs, but Mufasa rescues them and tells the hyenas to never come near his son again.
Still, she chuckles when Simba and Nala are cornered, only to be dramatically rescued, "Ah! There it is. The timely arrival of the father. Classic."
Mufasa sends Nala and Zazu back to Pride Rock and admonishes Simba before teaching him about the stars, and at this point, Simba learns that these stars represent the Great Kings of the Past who will always be there to guide him, including his father.
At this point, she says thoughtfully, "The dead guiding the living. A comforting belief."
I don't miss the way her fingers curl slightly against the popcorn bowl.
Meanwhile, Scar plots with the hyenas to take over Pride Rock by killing both Mufasa and Simba.
The next day, on Scar's orders, the hyenas cause a stampede by chasing a herd of wildebeest into a gorge, where Scar tells Simba to wait.
By the time the wildebeest stampede starts, the room feels different. The earlier warmth dims, replaced by tension that even Nero's commentary can't fully dispel.
Mufasa learns of Simba's predicament from Scar and braves the wildebeests by leaping into the gorge and carrying Simba to safety.
Nero goes still as Mufasa plunges into the gorge.
However, as Mufasa attempts to escape by climbing the gorge's walls, he is stuck and asks his younger brother for help, but Scar grabs Mufasa's paws and says, "Long live the king."
Her earlier teasing vanishes entirely when Scar grabs his brother's paws and says those mocking words, making Nero's jaw tighten before she says softly, "Oh. So that is the kind of ruler he intends to be."
He then lets go of his brother, causing him to fall back into the stampede to his death.
I feel her lean closer without realising it, her shoulder pressing more firmly into my side as Mufasa falls.
The music swells, the screen fills with chaos and dust, and Nero's expression hardens watching the following scenes.
When Simba sees his father falling, he, unaware of Scar's actions, is completely horrified and then goes back into the gorge to find him once the stampede has passed.
The cub yells for his father and spots him lying on the ground. He tries to wake Mufasa up, but soon realises that his father is dead.
Nero exhales slowly and mutters, "Cruel. To burden a child with such guilt."
I don't respond; there's a knot in my chest that has nothing to do with animated lions.
Scar, meanwhile, seeing his nephew still alive, approaches him and tricks Simba into thinking that Mufasa's death resulted from the cub's carelessness.
Nero's grip tightens on the popcorn bowl before she says sharply, "A lie. And yet..." She trails off.
"And yet it works," I finish quietly.
She nods once.
Ashamed, Simba flees the Pride Lands, intending to never return. Scar then orders the hyenas to kill Simba, but he manages to escape through a pack of thorn bushes. The hyenas then yell to him that if he ever returns, they'll kill him.
Later in the night, Scar returns to Pride Rock and breaks the terrible news of Mufasa and Simba's deaths to the pride.
In Simba's absence, Scar becomes the new king and allows the hyenas into the Pride Lands.
Simba collapses in the wasteland after his escape but is found by Timon and Pumbaa, a meerkat and warthog.
The duo nurses him back to health and take him in, teaching him their motto, "Hakuna Matata", interpreted as "No Worries". He then grows up with them with the song Hakuna Matata in the background.
At first, she laughs along with the song, amused by the absurdity of it all.
But when Simba grows older, and the montage continues, her smile fades, and she says, "Running from one's role does not erase it. It only delays the reckoning."
When the movie cuts back to Scar's reign, Nero clicks her tongue again.
During Scar's reign, the Pride Lands became a wasteland with no food or water, making Nero observe, "A kingdom rots quickly under poor stewardship. Fate does not forgive incompetence."
Rafiki, the mandrill who baptised Simba, finds out that Simba is alive in the jungle.
Rafiki's discovery that Simba is alive draws a pleased hum from her.
One day, Timon and Pumbaa are walking through the jungle singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight".
Pumbaa notices a dung beetle walking by and stalks it in preparation to eat it, but sees a lioness stalking him in the grass and runs for his life.
When Timon finds Pumbaa, he asks what's wrong and sees the lioness chasing him.
Simba rescues Timon and Pumbaa just in time from the lioness and discovers that she is Nala.
When Simba reunites with Nala, Nero smiles genuinely and says, "Ah. The past returns, whether welcomed or not."
Simba learns from Nala that Scar's irresponsibility as King of Pride Rock is leading to the suffering of its inhabitants and asks him to return, but still feeling guilt over Mufasa's death, Simba refuses to return.
The confrontation between Simba and his destiny is where Nero falls completely silent.
The wise Rafiki tracks Simba down and summons Mufasa's ghost for Simba.
His ghost informs Simba that he must return to Pride Rock and become king; Simba refuses, but Mufasa's ghost tells him to remember that he is his son and the one true king.
At this point, Nero closes her eyes for a brief moment before she echoes softly, almost to herself, "Remember."
Simba returns to Pride Rock with Nala, Timon, and Pumbaa, who all agree to help him fight.
When Simba finally turns back toward Pride Rock, her posture straightens.
While Timon and Pumbaa distract the hyenas, Simba goes to find Scar and sees him arguing with Sarabi on Pride Rock over the lionesses not hunting.
The humour doesn't return during the final act, she watches the battle with focused intensity, eyes following every movement, every exchange.
When Scar strikes Sarabi in anger, Simba confronts him, but is forced by Scar into admitting to causing Mufasa's death.
Nero's breath catches as she says coldly, "Unforgivable."
Scar forces Simba towards the edge of a fiery Pride Rock to kill him, informing him that he killed King Mufasa to taunt Simba.
Nero's reaction is immediate and fierce as she says, "There. Truth has weight. Once revealed, it cannot be denied."
Enraged at this realisation, Simba leaps back up and pins Scar, forcing his uncle to reveal the truth to the rest of the pride.
A fight ensues with the lionesses, Timon, Pumbaa, Rafiki and the newly liberated Zazu against the hyenas while Simba confronts Scar alone at the top of Pride Rock.
Scar begs Simba for mercy, accusing the hyenas of planning Mufasa's death.
Despite Simba sparing Scar, the lions fight, resulting in Simba defeating and throwing Scar off the cliff.
Scar survives the fall but is attacked and killed by the hyenas, who'd overheard his attempt to betray them.
Scar's defeat earns no cheer from her, only a quiet nod when justice, imperfect and brutal, is finally served.
With Scar dead, the hyenas gone, and the flames extinguished by the rain, Simba is greeted by Nala, Sarabi, the pride, Timon, Pumbaa, Zazu, and Rafiki.
As the rain falls and the fires die out, Nero relaxes at last.
Simba walks up Pride Rock and hears Mufasa's ghost say, "Remember." Then, Simba roars, and the lionesses respond in kind.
When Simba ascends Pride Rock and roars, she exhales, tension leaving her shoulders as she simply says, "A king."
Then the final reprise of The Circle of Life plays.
Sometime later, Pride Rock is restored to its former glory, and Simba looks down happily at his kingdom with Nala, Timon, and Pumbaa by his side.
Rafiki presents Simba and Nala's newborn cub to the inhabitants of the Pride Lands as once again the song The Circle of Life resounds in the background.
For a long moment after the screen fades to black, neither of us speaks.
The screen fades to black, the final notes of the music lingering in the air before dissolving into silence.
I don't move to turn the system off right away, nor does Nero.
She remains seated beside me, posture relaxed but no longer loose, gaze fixed on the empty screen as if expecting something more to appear.
The oversized bowl of popcorn rests forgotten between us, its contents largely untouched toward the end.
For someone who had filled the morning with song and commentary, Nero is uncharacteristically quiet.
I study her out of the corner of my eye. The theatrical brightness she wears so easily has dimmed, replaced by something thoughtful. Contemplative. Not sorrowful, exactly, but weighed.
Then she says at last, "A fine tale."
I agree, "Yeah. It is."
She hums softly, then adds, "Stories of kings rarely end so neatly."
"No," I say. "They don't."
Her fingers drum lightly against the armrest, once, twice, before stopping. "Still," she continues, "there is comfort in seeing the cycle restored. Order reclaimed. A ruler stepping forward when the moment demands it."
I don't miss the careful way she phrases it, not destiny fulfilled, not fate realised.
Stepping forward.
"The burden doesn't disappear," I say. "Even after the crown is earned."
She smiles faintly at that, "Naturally. If it did, it would not be worth bearing."
The lights gradually return to their usual brightness as I dismiss the theatre setup, the screen dissolving into particles of light that vanish into nothing. The Private Room feels larger without it, emptier.
Nero stretches, rolling her shoulders before leaning back against the couch, "Umu. I approve of this morning's entertainment." She glances at me sideways. "You chose well, my Praetor."
"I had a feeling you'd like it."
"More than like it," she says, then pauses. "It reminded me of many things."
I wait.
"Of expectations," she continues, voice lighter but no less sincere. "Of how easily they can crush those unprepared to bear them. And of how strength alone is not enough to rule."
She finally turns to look at me directly. "You noticed it too, did you not?"
"I did," I admit. "The parallels were hard to miss."
She nods, satisfied, then lets the subject drop without pressing further.
Nero has never been one to dwell unnecessarily, even when a thought strikes close to home.
I check the time and say, "We should get ready. Aletha will be expecting us this afternoon."
Nero agrees, rising smoothly to her feet, "Yes. Duty calls."
There's no reluctance in her voice, but there is an undercurrent of focus, of readiness.
The easy humour from earlier has settled into something sharper, more controlled.
As she moves to prepare, I linger a moment longer on the couch, letting the quiet stretch.
The morning had been calm, pleasant, even, a rare pocket of peace.
The quiet doesn't last.
A sharp electronic chirp cuts through the Private Room, sudden and intrusive, like a blade slicing cleanly through silk.
I freeze.
The sound is unmistakable, a priority alert.
Slowly, I reach into my pocket and pull out my portable terminal. For a fleeting moment, I expect something mundane. A system update. A schedule reminder. A routine confirmation tied to the next Elimination Battle.
The screen lights up.
[The Elimination Battle has been cancelled.]
[Congratulations. You have automatically passed this round.]
For a moment, the world goes silent. Nero notices the change immediately and asks, "Praetor?"
I stare at the screen, reading the message again and again.
Then understanding crashes down on me all at once, 'My opponent was Julius B. Harwey. If the Elimination Battle is cancelled, then there is only one explanation. Julius has been eliminated. And since Julius would never abandon his brother...'
Slowly, I lift my gaze and say quietly, "If Julius is gone... Then Leo is very likely gone too."
Nero's expression hardens as she understands the implication instantly.
Leonardo B. Harwey was fated to reach the final stage and fight against the "protagonist" Hakuno Kishinami; the Moon Cell itself bent the narrative around them.
In the original flow of events, his defeat before the end is impossible, which means only one thing.
Following that reasoning, I continue, my voice steady despite the chill crawling up my spine, "The one who faced Leo and eliminated both him and Julius can only be a Champion."
Not an ordinary Master, not a variable within the system, but someone like me, like Aletha, someone capable of fighting against fate itself.
Reaching that conclusion, I close my terminal and exhale slowly before saying, "The board has changed."
Nero straightens, her usual confidence sharpening into something colder, more focused.
The quiet days we were promised are gone before they even begin. Whatever comes next, it will not follow the script.
And for the first time since this war began, even I don't know what move comes next.
And neither, I suspect, does fate itself.