"Aha has to work, Aha has to make deliveries, poor Aha, so pitiful."
Across the endless galaxy, that jester mask seemed to be lamenting the miserable life awaiting him.
As THEY spoke, his gaze shifted to a nearby figure.
Like a statue carved of crystal, it stood, crowned with beads that veiled its face, leaving its features hazy and indistinct.
It stood in silence amidst the stars, watching what unfolded ahead, giving no reply to the words beside it.
"Sigh, dumb as ever, never saying a word, doesn't care about Aha at all… Aha feels so humiliated."
The mask swayed, slowly fading from the galaxy.
And the figure beside THEM—Fuli—offered no response.
Because no one who saw THEM would believe such words from the one who spoke them.
After all, THEY are the Aeon of Elation, the one who sought amusement across the entire cosmos.
Who could possibly make THEM work, unless THEY decided to turn "working" into THEIR own game?
Were THEY that kind of Aeon?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
But none of that mattered now.
THEIR task was only to record what appeared in the universe most strange, most singular.
That thing—something that did not seem to belong to this cosmos at all…
Fuli's gaze had never left that distant figure.
From the moment THEY had witnessed this anomaly, THEY had followed it here.
THEY had seen everything it experienced, felt the strange power it bore.
A power that could freeze a planet in an instant, yet leave the birth of memory untouched.
For that, Fuli gave high regard.
And now, he wielded blades sharp enough to cut divine flesh, and with mere mortal body stood against an incomplete lifeform.
And the cost? Only a change of armor.
Black turned to crimson, and such power erupted.
This was vanishingly rare across the galaxy, across the cosmos entire.
And within it, Fuli sensed no trace of other Aeons' interference.
Which meant—what unfolded on this battlefield truly came from that being named Hoshigaki Sora, born of his own strength.
"…Pure power turning back Propagation… never before, never after…"
By his power alone, he had turned away the descent of a god.
Such a thing had never happened in all time.
The specialness of "life" itself seemed gone; the clash on this battlefield looked no more than two beings of different size colliding.
But put anyone else in Sora's place, and they could never have done this.
Could Propagation truly be annihilated?
Fuli felt the question stir.
For THEY were among those who least wished to see Propagation descend.
When the swarms ravaged the cosmos, all memory became homogenized.
No other hue remained—every memory dyed with the color of the swarm.
THEY remembered what had once been. Memories filled only with wingbeats and endlessly dividing insects strewn across the galaxy.
For the cosmos, it had been disaster.
For every Path, it had been upheaval.
Once, many Aeons together had struck at the swarm's source, suppressing its evolution, reducing its harm.
And even then, countless memories across the cosmos had been devoured.
As a recorder, THEY wished only to witness.
But the descent of Propagation would destabilize the universe entire.
Therefore—
That faceless visage glimmered faintly with diamond light.
And then, waves rippled across imaginary space, as unseen force surged toward the frozen planet.
The threat must be erased.
So THEY cast down THEIR gaze, granting THEIR power.
And then—
A phantom book shone in the galaxy.
Its cover: [Super Hero Senki].
Brilliant for an instant, then hidden once more.
Fuli, forever silent, said nothing.
Yet that silence, strange as it was, almost made her seem absentminded.
Perhaps THEY too had not fully understood what had just happened—until the scene below changed, and THEY realized.
This was… stolen from THEM?!
...
Whoom—
Flames roared from the wrist-jets, power surging through his body, holding back that insectile hand.
Hoshigaki Sora had landed before Hotaru, stopping the foe's strike by himself.
Titanironia still sought to close her fingers, to crush Sora into pulp.
But Sora's strength was ferocious.
Those fingers trembled, unable to close, forced instead to part.
"I could hold this all day. What's the rush?"
Sora's voice pressed forward with his strength.
Titanironia's speed was no joke. A faint tremor of her wings carried her dozens of kilometers in a blink.
But his boosters were no empty boast.
Slower, yes, but still fast enough—fast enough to reach Hotaru.
Now, Hotaru looked at Sora—his crimson form, so different from when he fell from the sky before—now holding Titanironia at bay.
The world felt strange, unfamiliar.
Wasn't I the one who just gained new power?
That's right… isn't it?
So why was she the one lying in the dirt—while Sora, with just a change of armor color, was locking horns with Propagation's larva?
In that instant, Hotaru felt the unevenness of the world.
And Titanironia, too, fixed her attention on the man who barred her way.
Confusion stirred across her face—her calm, cloudlike poise broken.
For the first time, doubt colored her gaze toward Sora.
[What are you doing, human? Why do you hinder me so?]
"Didn't I already tell you? I just don't like that dead universe you're trying to create."
As Sora spoke, the flames from his thrusters flared brighter.
And with them, Titanironia's body began to give ground.
"In the world you want, there's only silence!"
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Step by step, Sora drove forward, each footfall gouging craters into the earth.
And Titanironia retreated, step by step.
[It would be a universe without loneliness, without deathly silence. Where everyone feels the warmth of companions.]
"That's just you filling the universe with yourself."
With a roar, Sora unleashed everything.
The surge blasted Titanironia back, staggering two steps.
Steadying herself, she glared.
[And you? Can you alone create a universe where no one is ever alone?]
"I can't." Sora's reply was plain. "But I won't let my companions feel lonely."
At those words, her gaze drifted across the battlefield.
And there she saw—Hotaru, rising, slowly walking to Sora's side.
"You okay now?"
"I'm fine. But… you can't ever tell anyone what just happened."
She was clearly displeased—swatted down like a mosquito, so soon after finally getting her dramatic moment.
Sora, caught between tension and laughter, let out two chuckles. "As long as you're fine, that's what matters."
So ordinary were his words—but against this backdrop, they shone precious.
They stood together, side by side, against an incomplete god—where a single mistake could mean annihilation.
Titanironia suddenly thought Sora's figure looked… doubled.
Other silhouettes flickered over him.
"Are you alright, AR–114184?"
"AR–114184, fall back. We'll handle the sweep."
Sora's form overlapped with figures of the past.
AR–114184? Wasn't that the designation used by the country I destroyed—their name for their comrades?
Why did that come to mind now?
That code—wasn't it for the one they called defective?
Why am I… why am I thinking of this?
Titanironia felt something was wrong.
As though she were glimpsing someone else's memory.
Whose…?
Her eyes fixed suddenly on Hotaru.
And she saw—it was no longer only two standing there.
In the distance, platinum flames flickered. The Iron Cavalry gathered, one by one, in the night sky like fireflies, converging around Sora.
On this darkened planet, his black-armored body stood lit by their glow.
And Titanironia—stood alone.
…Companions?