For a moment that felt impossibly long.
I just stared at Sona's cold, unmoving body, unable to process anything beyond the simple, horrifying reality that she was no longer breathing, no longer warm, no longer… here.
It felt as if my entire mind had been shoved underwater, where every thought was muffled and delayed, struggling to break through the crushing sense of helplessness tightening around my chest like an iron band.
And then, through that suffocating fog of despair, a single thought flickered like a spark in the darkness.
"…the system."
The word slipped out almost unconsciously, but the instant I heard myself say it, my mind jerked awake as if someone had grabbed me by the collar and yanked me back from the edge of a cliff.
My voice rose automatically, fueled not by hope but by desperation that had nowhere else to go.
"Yes… yes! System!"
I didn't walk toward Sona's body—I stumbled, barely catching myself as my knees hit the ice beside her before I even realized I'd moved.
The icy air around her made my skin sting, but the cold radiating from her was something far crueler, the kind of cold that sinks into the soul because it carries the truth of a life already gone.
Serafall sat frozen in place, her arms wrapped around her sister as if terrified that loosening her grip even slightly would cause Sona to fade away forever.
She didn't look at me, didn't react, didn't seem capable of hearing anything at all; her grief had hollowed her out completely, leaving her staring into nothing with trembling, empty eyes.
Ravel stood behind me, hands clutched against her chest, lips quivering as she tried and failed to steady her breathing, while Mashiro had a faint tremble running through her shoulders, the slightest widening of her eyes betraying how overwhelmed she truly was.
But none of that mattered to me.
The only thing that mattered was the last lifeline I had: the system.
According to what Rias had explained about this world, gods existed, afterlives existed, and reincarnation existed.
Death wasn't necessarily an absolute end here.
But Sona was a devil from Christian mythology, and I had no idea what happened to devil souls—where they went, how fast they traveled, whether they could be retrieved.
For all I knew, she was already slipping somewhere I could never reach.
I didn't have time to think.
I didn't have time to hesitate.
I forced open the translucent blue interface.
My fingers shook violently as I typed, faster than my frantic brain could process.
"Come on… come on… please… give me something…"
Healing items—nothing useful.
Holy items—useless.
Devil-related—empty.
Soul restoration—no results.
Revival—nothing.
Afterlife—absolutely nothing.
My breathing grew uneven, shallow, painfully fast as the weight of reality pressed harder and harder against my chest.
"Please, system… please… just this once… do something… I'll buy everything, I'll empty my yen, I'll give up everything I have… just give me something to save her…"
But no matter how desperately I begged, the list remained blank, mercilessly blank, and the last thread of hope inside me began to fray, snapping one strand at a time.
Then—when my vision blurred and my hands sagged at my sides—another realization broke through, wild and irrational and desperate, yet somehow clearer than anything I'd managed to think so far.
"…my system… is a Pokémon Trader's System…"
It sounded insane, like the rambling of someone already halfway broken, but the more I forced myself to focus, the more the pieces twisted together.
The system dealt with Pokémon.
Its opening line is - 'This is the best Pokémon Trading system in the whole existential plane. We only sell the best at the cheapest.'
It handled items from that multiverse.
It sold moves, artifacts, and even legendary Pokémons.
And Pokémon had something this world didn't:
Items that ignored death.
Revives.
Max Revives.
Healing items that didn't care about biology or mythology, or supernatural restrictions.
Pokémon fainted.
Pokémon died.
Yet, items worked regardless, even if it's in games.
And in raw, Pokémon were "Pocket Monsters."
Monsters.
Devils were monsters, too.
It was absurd.
It was unscientific.
It was the desperate hope of someone with nothing left.
And I clung to it.
I searched "Max Revive."
A single result appeared.
[Max Revive]
[Type: Healing Item]
[Description: Revive any Pokémon to its full health under any circumstances]
[Price: 40,000 yen]
I reread it several times, my pulse growing louder with each pass.
There was no mention of fainting.
No limitations.
No qualifiers. Just—revival.
It was insane.
It was reckless.
But better than turning them undead to revive with a high possibility of permanent damage.
It was my only chance.
I slammed the purchase button.
The yen vanished instantly, replaced by a small star-shaped crystal with a faint golden tint resting inside my inventory.
I grabbed it immediately, my hands shaking so violently I almost dropped it.
Behind me, Ravel gasped softly, and Mashiro's eyes widened, but I couldn't look away from Sona.
I knelt closer, my breath catching painfully as I looked at her face—too still, too quiet, too peaceful in the worst possible way—and something inside me twisted sharply, almost painfully.
"Please…"
I whispered, barely holding myself together.
"Please let this work… please…"
I lowered the Max Revive.
The instant it touched Sona's skin—
—It dissolved completely, melting into a stream of golden light that seeped beneath her clothes and into her body like warm sunlight sinking into cold ocean depths.
For a heartbeat, nothing changed.
Then the world shifted.
A faint ripple pulsed outward from Sona's chest, slow and soft, like the very first heartbeat she had forgotten how to make.
The glow didn't burst; instead, it blossomed, building layer by gentle layer, gaining warmth and color as if life itself were carefully painting her back into existence.
The ice responded first.
Hairline cracks spread across the frozen ground in delicate spiderweb patterns that caught the light like diamond veins.
Frost evaporated upward in thin streams, curling into the air like pale smoke dissolving into the wind.
Even the suspended snowflakes trembled in place before slowly resuming their descent, drifting gracefully in slow-motion spirals.
Then the holy sword embedded in her chest trembled.
Once.
Twice.
With a metallic groan that echoed across the courtyard, the blade slid free as though pulled by unseen hands.
Droplets of frozen blood thawed instantly, transforming into tiny crimson sparks before fading into the air like dying embers.
The wound began to close.
Not suddenly, but gradually, as torn skin and damaged muscle knit together in a delicate choreography of golden threads weaving across her chest.
Her ribcage rose the slightest amount—
—a faint inhale.
A breath so small it could've been imagined.
But it wasn't.
Her eyelashes fluttered, a soft tremor, like a dreamer resisting the pull of morning.
Her lips parted slightly, releasing a warm breath that fogged the cold air in front of her mouth.
The golden light grew brighter, forming a cocoon around her body, making her look less like a devil and more like a fallen star struggling to reignite.
Shadows stretched long across the courtyard as the light pulsed once more, illuminating Serafall's wide, trembling eyes.
And then—
Color returned to Sona's cheeks.
Her fingers twitched.
Her breathing steadied.
Life returned to her in a slow, gentle crescendo.
Serafall gasped—a broken, trembling sound that fractured the silence like a spark cracking through frozen wood—before collapsing forward, wrapping her arms around Sona with such raw desperation that it almost hurt to look at.
"Sona—Sona…! Oh God… Sona…!"
Her tears fell onto Sona's newly warm skin, each droplet shimmering briefly in the fading golden glow before disappearing into her clothing.
Behind me, Ravel let out a strangled cry, covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face.
Mashiro, normally composed like a carved doll, widened her eyes further than I had seen in our small time we met, a tiny breath escaping her lips in disbelief.
And me—
My legs finally gave out.
Everything I'd been holding inside—the fear, the hopelessness, the crushing weight of almost losing someone precious—it all spilled out as my vision blurred.
I sank onto the ice, my hands trembling violently as I pressed them over my face.
A broken laugh mixed with a sob escaped my throat.
"I… I thought… she was gone forever…"
My chest ached with relief so powerful it almost felt like pain.
Sona was alive.
She was breathing.
She was back.
And the world, which had been silent and dead moments ago, slowly regained its color, its warmth, its sound—almost as if the system had revived more than just one devil.
It had revived hope.
I wiped my eyes with a shaking hand, breath still uneven as I whispered again—
"I thought I lost you…"
In that moment, I didn't care how pathetic I looked.
I didn't care who saw me cry.
I didn't care about anything else.
Sona was alive.
And that was all that mattered.
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