We were having a small celebration—laughter, clinking utensils, warm light flooding the room, creating a peaceful bubble where we could forget the dangers outside.
Then…
Creak…
The door unexpectedly swung open, and the atmosphere instantly tightened.
A stranger entered. A young man of about twenty-two, tall and solidly built. His face seemed friendly at a glance—but his eyes were cold and metallic, reflecting the lights with chilling detachment.
He wore a long black cloak styled with military precision; its high collar wrapped tightly around his neck. A dark wool hat sat on his head, casting shadow over his figure—he looked like a ghost stepping out from the night fog.
I snapped upright, setting down my chopsticks.
"Whoa… who's that? Someone you know, Misaki?" I asked, looking over. "You two seem… close?"
Misaki froze for a moment, the glass in her hand trembling.
"Eto... how... how did you get here?" Her voice faltered, eyes wide.
She stepped back. "What's going on…? And… how do you know where I live?"
The man said nothing immediately. He took another step forward, stopping in the doorway with deliberate presence.
"Don't overthink it," he said in a calm, warm voice—each word carrying hidden weight. "I simply came to… see how you're doing."
At that moment, a thin smile flickered across his lips—it felt like ice.
"But more importantly… I came to bring you back."
A chair scraped softly against the floor. Silence descended like fog.
Misaki went still, then clenched her fist firmly. Her expression hardened from panic into determined refusal.
"I won't be going back," she said. Each word was a needle through the silence hanging over the room.
"Leave me be," she added. Her voice shook, but her tone was firm. "I used to respect you very much. But now… we have nothing to do with each other. I'm sorry… Captain."
That final title cut the thread of their past in one swift strike. The air turned icy, tense—ready to explode.
The man raised an eyebrow, then slowly chuckled.
"So… you intend to betray the organization?" His tone shifted, cold and sharp—cutting to the core.
"You want a normal, peaceful life? Even though your family was slaughtered by a rogue RAGI?"
Misaki clenched both fists, teeth grinding so hard her lip whitened.
"Pathetic," he sneered as he stepped closer. "A weak girl unable to protect anyone, yet you dare to dream of peace?"
His words pierced the armor Misaki had built around her silent pain.
I watched her hand tremble; the fierce calm left her eyes and was replaced by… rage. A rage not aimed only at him—but at herself—for failing to protect her past.
He reached into his cloak and withdrew a metallic lighter, then dragged it across its flint.
Click.
The flame illuminated his icy face for an instant.
He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply. The ember glowed fierce at the tip as his gaze locked on Misaki, piercing through to every secret she had hidden.
I stood rigid, eyes wide. The room grew thick with tension.
"Organization? Captain…?" I repeated the keywords silently.
Suddenly—
"SHUT UP!!"
Misaki's roar burst like thunder. Her eyes blazed red and her whole body shook—whether from fury or pain, it was impossible to tell.
She whipped her hand behind her. An invisible wave exploded outward.
CRASH!
TV, furniture, sofas, plates—everything lifted off the ground, spinning into chaos like a summoned tornado. Objects whirled around her like planets circling a sun—and that sun was Misaki.
Her hair whipped wild. Her eyes glowed. Her entire body radiated an emerald-blue energy field.
"GET OUT OF HERE!!!" she shouted, thrusting her hand forward.
Whoosh!
A massive mass—composed of dozens of household items—rocketed like a falling asteroid toward the standing man.
I tried to shout:"Hey, that's my stuff—!!"
But everything vanished in an instant.
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion ripped through the room. Walls shook, glass shattered, dust filled the air as if we'd witnessed a miniature implosion.
Yet the most astonishing thing was—
The captain still stood unwavering.
Part of his cloak whipped in the shockwave, his cigarette's ember fell—but he remained calm. As if the blast hadn't touched him.
With a simple flick of his finger, he produced an invisible field—an air-wall barrier that stopped the flying debris mid-flight.
"If you must resist…" he said calmly, "then I have no choice."
His gaze froze in cold resolve, as though he'd been bracing for this moment long ago. He narrowed his eyes and smiled faintly—part contempt, part challenge. The cigarette glowed in the dim light, he inhaled deeply again.
Click.
The click echoed in the charged silence.
Fsssh… He exhaled smoke—and—
BOOM!!!
Another strike.
It wasn't fire. Not lightning. Not even pure energy—it was something else altogether: plasma.
A pale blue torrent of power surged forth, sparking electricity like lightning—dense, viscous, glowing lava in the air.
It screamed toward Misaki like a plasma dragon, ripping through space with a sound that made the ground tremble.
"No… way…!" I gasped.
This wasn't flare or storm. Not fire, not lightning.This was plasma—a level of energy that exists within stars. And this man… he produced it with a single breath.
I froze in awe.
Misaki roared, summoning a shield from nearby objects—but I knew full well: if that plasma hit her directly… nothing would remain.