On the blackened planet, gazing toward the heavens, one could see only the countless stars.
Stars shining in the void—yet every one of them was hundreds of light-years away.
They glimmered, yes, but their distance was absolute.
They could not be reached in a heartbeat.
All they could offer was silent companionship.
They would watch you grow lonely beneath the same sky. In the galaxy, endless solitude was the main theme.
And then—suddenly—tiny lights appeared in the void.
So small they could almost be ignored. Compared with the stars, they were nothing more than specks of dust drifting in the air.
And what is dust?
Something wiped away with a hand.
Yet in this moment, those motes shone brighter than the stars.
"We're here!"
Looking closely, they were not dust at all, but one by one, impossibly small sparks.
Like fireflies.
In the black of space, they cast their fragile glow.
They could not banish the darkness. But together, they diminished it.
Light burst forth from the void, rushing in this direction.
White flame burned across their bodies. The departed firefly battalions returned, their awareness drawn back from the distance to their friend's side.
Even if that friend's side was now one of the most dangerous places in the entire universe—
They would still go.
Whether it meant facing an AEON, or swarms capable of devouring planets—
If their companion stood there, they would cross any gulf, risk drifting forever in the void, and still arrive.
A promise once made could not be forgotten. A vow once given had to be kept.
"We were manufactured, yes. But we will never forget our companions."
Their brilliance fell like meteors, streaking straight down.
One, ten, a hundred…
In minutes, hundreds of white meteors rained down from the stars.
They tore through the black-red tide, gathering at their companion's side.
"Yo, Shunji—we're here."
Unkyō's voice was tired, but full of excitement. "Looks like you're all still alive."
They had left their ships at the system's edge, thrown themselves into the void, and forced their way here.
From space, they had seen the black-red tide surging over the planet, and all had felt dread.
Those features—their resemblance to the swarm that the galaxy most loathed—
And now, seeing their friends alive, they finally exhaled.
Once reassured, Unkyō's eyes swept the battlefield.
"Where's Sora?"
Shunji, who had just been moved by their arrival, nearly choked on the words.
So all your concern for me amounts to one sentence?
Our decade of friendship is weaker than your bond with a man you only just met?
A strange weariness pricked her chest, but this was no time to sulk—this was still the battlefield.
"Sora? Maybe try looking at the sky."
Unkyō blinked, glancing upward—only to see endless replicas swarming, filling the heavens with darkness.
There was no sign of Sora.
Then—she heard it.
A muffled boom.
The sky erupted. The replica horde shattered into gore, raining blood upon the ground.
Through the hole in the swarm, she saw him.
A black cloak whipping behind him, white brilliance carved around his body, framing him like a war god.
"…Sora?" Unkyō's voice was uncertain.
She had never seen him clad in such armor.
But the resonance in her heart told her it was him.
"Changed your look, huh? Doesn't feel the same as before." She nodded, acknowledging his new Boost form.
If before, his presence had been bold, unrestrained—
Now, this form radiated only cold steel, a heart of iron.
And yet, if she were to choose—she might still prefer his older form.
Those golden horns had left quite an impression.
"But still—" Unkyō clenched her fist. The white flames burned brighter across her body.
"Looks like we've got new power too."
That fire had surged while they crossed the stars. At first they had no time to notice. But now, reassured of Shunji's safety, they could focus.
"Feels like we're wearing new armor."
Mitsutake spoke, testing the power she now grasped. Her eyes turned toward Hotaru.
"Hot… Hotaru. Was it you who changed all this?"
She had almost called her Moyan again, but quickly remembered—that name could finally be buried.
Hotaru twitched at the question, recalling the humiliating slap that had planted her in the dirt.
"Yes. It started with me. But enough talk—we need to focus."
Her reminder snapped the others back to the field.
The blood and flesh raining down had begun to writhe, birthing new troops.
The faces that emerged were familiar. Too familiar.
Their own.
That sight made their skin crawl.
"You were fighting these?"
When they had left, Titanironia had still been sealed by Hotaru.
This was their first time confronting replicas that bore their own features—and insect traits besides.
It was like seeing your own face grafted onto a swarm creature.
It was grotesque. Horrifying.
They could hardly imagine what Shunji had endured.
"Yes. And now that you're here, let's finish our task."
Shunji had only rested a moment, and now raised her weapons again.
"Erase them all. Then fight beside Sora."
She surged forward, a beacon in the dark, blades of white flame forming in her hands.
With a sweep, fire cleaved replicas apart. Their bodies fell, consumed by flame, unable to divide again.
Mitsutake's eyes narrowed. "So that's it. Propagation's own power can halt their division."
Replication was fueled by Path-power. Shunji's flames destabilized it, stripping them of their ability to multiply.
Propagation against Propagation.
Mitsutake smirked. Her flames condensed into a spear, bright and fierce.
She raised it high, then aimed into the black tide.
"Companions—wipe out the ones who once bound us!"
"Titanironia—you are already past. A husk of what was."
"You have no right to lead us again. We already have one we trust."
She hurled her spear.
The firestorm exploded, consuming swathes of replicas, their broken bodies carpeting the earth.
The Iron Cavalry were few, mere hundreds—but aflame, they cut through by the hundred each.
The replicas fell in heaps, their numbers dwindling fast.
Sora smiled at the sight. Titanironia screamed in rage.
[Why?! Why would you do this?!]
[You were born of me—you know loneliness! You know betrayal!]
[You should understand me most of all! Why resist me?!]
"You still don't get it?"
Sora raised his hand.
At his wrist, a white radiance blazed like the sun, reflecting across the scattered firefly lights.
They all paused, gazes lifting to that brilliance.
The [Boost Buckle], the [Bujin Sword]—all drew to his hand.
The Symbol of Friendship too.
Flames whirled, merging.
Sora grasped it. Black and white fused, a buckle symbolizing bonds.
The [Firefly Blade].
Not forged from vengeance.
But from the wish—for companions, for happiness, for a future walked together.
"This is the end."
He snapped the buckle into his Driver.
'[SET!]'
'[WISH!]'
"[Hen…shin]!"