The next morning.
Kosma opened the door of his temporary quarters, only to find Dystopia standing right outside. He froze for a second—then promptly closed the door.
Dystopia: "???"
What did that mean? She had spent the whole night sorting out her feelings and had finally come here to apologize!
She immediately started knocking on the door.
"Kosma, open up! I'm standing out here all alone, and you just shut the door in my face? What's the meaning of this, Kosma?"
Inside, Kosma leaned back against the door, eyes wide in panic. Just yesterday, Dystopia had scolded him harshly—accusing him of having changed, of betraying what he once stood for. He had spent the entire night preparing himself mentally, rehearsing all sorts of speeches for today.
Things like:
"You can think of me as having changed. People can't drown clinging to useless ideals."
Or:
"Think of me however you want, but you must understand—sometimes we can only choose the lesser of two evils. And from now on, such choices will only become more frequent."
Or even:
"Right now, you don't yet have the right to seek those answers."
But the moment he actually saw Dystopia in front of him—Kosma instantly lost his nerve. All the "lofty speeches" he had prepared vanished without a trace.
His hands trembling, he pulled out his phone and typed a message to Silas, who had already left for the day:
"Silas, Dystopia's blocking the door to our room. What should I do?"
At first, he had thought about asking Kevin instead. But then again, Kevin's relationship with Mei was something he could never hope to emulate. Silas, on the other hand, was someone who could somehow win the affection of Elysia, Mobius, and even others—surely he was less hopeless than Kevin in this regard.
The reason Kosma was the only one still in the room was simple: he had stayed up all night thinking, overslept, and gotten up late. Silas and Su had risen early to arrange the handling of infected survivors, and Kevin naturally tagged along to keep an eye on Elysia. That left Kosma alone in the quarters.
Dystopia, meanwhile, had also been awake the whole night. She couldn't rest once she realized Kosma had only been trying to imitate Kevin's hardened front for her sake, burying his own helpless conflict deep inside. And she—his childhood companion, someone who knew him better than anyone—had failed to see it and instead lashed out at him. That thought gnawed at her endlessly. She had resolved that she must properly apologize to Kosma.
So she had gotten up early, waited for Kevin and the others to leave, and then stationed herself at his door. Pardo had wanted to stay with her, but she refused. She wanted to apologize to Kosma alone. She was afraid that if she came with her friends, Kosma would think she was using numbers to pressure him.
Before leaving, she had even glared at Kevin. But Kevin only gave her a cold, expressionless glance before walking off.
That only made her believe Elysia's words even more—and deepened her resentment toward Kevin.
Just look at what you've turned my Kosma into!
Seeing no response from inside, Dystopia stamped her foot.
"Kosma, if you've got the guts, then just don't come out! If you won't open the door, then I'll stand right here all day!"
She could have apologized through the door, but no—she wanted to do it face-to-face.
Inside the room, Kosma's eyes were locked on his phone screen. He had never prayed harder for Silas to check his messages on time.
Before long, a reply came:
"She worked up the courage to come talk to you, you know. Don't waste her sincerity~"
Kosma: "…"
He double-checked the name of the sender. It was indeed Silas. But that tone—it was unmistakably Elysia!
Now that he thought about it, after that vacation, Elysia and Silas had seemed much closer… Could it be that they were already…?
No, never mind that. Either way, Kosma realized he needed to stand firm. With determined fingers, he typed:
"Elysia, give Silas his phone back."
The reply came almost instantly:
"In your dreams~ Today his phone is mine to keep."
Kosma: "…"
Elysia!
Kosma took a deep breath. Since Silas was clearly not going to be any help, he had no choice but to force himself to calm down and think through the situation.
(Dystopia's personality is stubborn—if she says she'll wait outside, she really will. Maybe I could slip out the window? No… if someone saw me, that would be even worse. And Elysia probably already knows what's happening. If she really is that close to Silas now, she'll definitely twist the story when she tells him. Ugh… Do I really have to go ask Kevin for advice…?)
After much hesitation, Kosma finally chose to message Su for help.
The wait felt unbearably long, but eventually Su's reply came:
"The two of you really do need to talk this through. Don't be afraid of it, Kosma."
Kosma had just begun to type that he truly couldn't handle it when a second message arrived:
"This is something you must face yourself. None of us can help you. And don't bother asking Kevin either—his phone's with me."
Kosma: "…"
This had Elysia's mischief written all over it, didn't it?! He really couldn't deal with this kind of situation…
He decided he would have to seek out Michaela early, even if he had no idea where Michaela was at the moment. He could at least try to learn from Kevin's example. But right now, the urgent matter at hand was the girl waiting outside. He couldn't just keep hiding forever.
After what felt like an eternity of internal struggle, Kosma finally opened the door. Sure enough, Dystopia was still there, waiting. Her eyes were tinged with exhaustion—she clearly hadn't slept well last night.
And when Dystopia looked at Kosma, she too noticed the weariness in his eyes. The guilt she felt for doubting him deepened even further.
"Kosma…"
"Sorry." ×2
The two of them spoke at the same time. Both froze in surprise—only to fall into uncanny sync once more:
"Let me go first."
Another pause. Dystopia, knowing how easily Kosma hesitated, quickly prepared herself to seize the moment. Yet, unexpectedly, this time Kosma was the one who spoke first.
"Dystopia, you don't need to apologize to me. I thought it over all night, and… maybe, to you, it really does seem like I've changed. Which means the one who should be apologizing… is me."
"No, Kosma, actually—"
Kosma cut her off with an uncharacteristic firmness:
"Let me finish, please. I… I've thought a lot. And I realized I never once considered how deeply opposed you might be to all of this. I never thought about it… But, Dystopia, do you know what I've come to understand during my time with Fire Moth? If you say I've changed, then yes—I have. Because I've realized that in this thing we call reality, we are often forced to choose between two evils. And if we are to reach a brighter future, someone must be willing to carry the darkness. As for what it means to be a hero… that definition no longer matters to me."
"Kosma…"
"I'm sorry, Dystopia." Kosma looked her in the eye as he spoke. "This is my answer. I'm sorry… that it disappointed you."
With that, he turned to leave.
But Dystopia caught his hand.
"Kosma, listen to me! I… I'm the one who should apologize!"
"No, you're not wrong." Kosma didn't look back. Instead, he gently pulled her hand away. "We're already walking different paths. Talking about it any further… is meaningless."
And with that, he left—without a single pause or backward glance.
Dystopia stood rooted in place, staring at the retreating figure of the boy she had known since childhood. After a long silence, tears spilled down her cheeks. She knew him too well—and that was how she knew he was deadly serious.
"You idiot, Kosma! Idiot, idiot, big idiot! Uuu…" She crouched down, covering her face as sobs wracked her.
She had followed Kosma all the way to Arc City, joined Fire Moth only because he did. All she had ever wanted… was to stay by his side.
So why… why had things ended up like this?
Meanwhile, Kosma turned a corner and let out a long sigh of relief.
(This is better. She doesn't need to waste her time on me anymore. I've already decided to walk alongside Silas. The path he walks… she'll never be able to accept it. If that's the case, better that we part ways now, before we all suffer even more.)
Kosma… from beginning to end, had never truly understood Dystopia.
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