"We"?
The word instantly stuck out to both Senju Kayo and Yotsuba Mahiro. Their eyes met across the dim bunker, a silent conversation passing between them in a single glance. No words were needed.
[That muscle-brained idiot actually managed to team up with someone else?]
[It would appear so. The evidence is rather compelling.]
Still, knowing the location of Yōji Yūhe was the priority. There was no time to waste pondering Ikuma Shougen's unexpected social skills. They swiftly packed their meager belongings and prepared to set out into the perilous night.
Just as before they entered the bunker, Kaya instinctively moved to take the lead, with Mahiro falling into step behind her. Logically, a powerhouse like Mahiro should have been at the front, clearing a path with overwhelming force, while a strategist and ranged fighter like Senju Kayo should have been in the rear, providing support and intelligence. But this was Kaya's stubborn, self-sacrificial principle—a deeply ingrained habit from a life of being used as a shield. Arguing with her was futile, so he could only sigh internally and let her have her way, his own senses stretched to their limit to compensate.
It was already 4 a.m., the deepest and darkest hour of the night, with only about two hours left until dawn would begin to bleed into the sky.
However, in the dead silence of their surroundings, a starkly different scene was unfolding across the Tokyo Bay. At an abandoned dock in a crescent-shaped harbor, where the skeletal remains of countless fishing boats and small vessels lay moored, a bloody battle was erupting… No, to be precise, it was not a battle but a grand and brutal massacre.
Faint, distorted by the distance, came the echoes of countless screams and the sickening, wet sounds of tearing and crushing flesh and bone. It rose and fell like a grotesque symphony of death.
From their vantage point, they couldn't see what was attacking, only the horrifying results. Each time death descended, a circular dark shadow would flash by with impossible speed. Whether it was an Initiator with enhanced reflexes or a seasoned Promoter, they would be instantly, mercilessly crushed. Blood soaked the soil black, and minced flesh painted gruesome new murals on the walls of the abandoned port buildings. It was all happening in the city below, shrouded in the faint, indifferent moonlight, making the carnage feel surreal and eerily quiet.
The two of them climbed a small hill overlooking the industrial port area. Mahiro's gaze swept over the city below, his enhanced senses on high alert.
"I can smell it… blood, carried on the wind," he murmured, his voice low. The tragic scene, while not fully visible, was vividly painted in his mind's eye by the overwhelming metallic scent and the fading echoes of chaos. "Let's go. The target's right ahead."
There was no reason to stop now. Mahiro called out and continued forward. However, after taking just two steps, his demeanor shifted. In a blur of motion, he suddenly overtook Senju Kayo, placing himself firmly between her and the direction of the threat.
Senju Kayo, however, did not move to follow. Instead, she planted her feet, turning her back to him as she faced the dark forest path they had just traversed.
"No. You go first. I will stay here."
"...It's pointless for you to stay here."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a four-legged beast—a canine-type Gastrea—darted from the tree line with bullet-like speed, charging directly at Kaya's exposed back.
Simultaneously, Senju Kayo's eyes flashed a brilliant, glowing red, her power unleashing as she braced to meet the charge head-on and suppress it.
But in the very next second, before the Gastrea could even cross half the distance, it simply… disintegrated. A flash of psychokinetic light, too fast for the eye to properly follow, erupted around it. The creature vanished into a cloud of fine, white ash that drifted gently to the ground. Kaya, who had lunged forward to intercept nothing, was left standing there, covered in the powdery residue.
"...Are you really human?" she asked, landing softly and turning to face him, her gaze containing a faint, bewildered hint of resentment beneath its usual calm.
"From a strict biological classification standpoint, yes, I am human," Mahiro replied indifferently, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world.
Senju Kayo found this very hard to believe. The entire journey had been like this. Whether it was Gastrea they encountered head-on, or ones lying in ambush within the forest, or even the ones that appeared suddenly or had been tailing them silently—like the one just now—they had all, without exception, been instantly reduced to drifting ash with a mere flicker of light. It was less like a battle and more like a force of nature simply erasing obstacles from its path.
"...Perhaps," Kaya mused aloud, her head tilting, "in reality, I am the human, and you are the Cursed Child?"
"Pfft—Hahaha! I didn't expect you to make jokes, Kaya," Mahiro chuckled. "But you're not entirely wrong. In a way, I have been called a monster, too." Though, of course, the context and the nature of that curse were completely different.
"Alright, stop standing there in a daze. Let's go." Mahiro called out, continuing his forward march without looking back.
He mentally cataloged the threats. Stage I, Stage II, and Stage III Gastrea were trivial; a wide-area Scattering Mist spell could activate near-instantly, disassembling them at a molecular level. But Stage IVs were starting to become troublesome. Their genetic composition was too complex, their information bodies more robust, requiring a full five seconds of analysis for his decomposition magic to take hold.
I wonder what a Stage Five will be like, he thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose to alleviate a building wave of mental fatigue. Its information body will probably be incredibly difficult to parse and deconstruct.
"See? I still get tired…" he muttered to himself. "Sure enough, I'm still human at the core."
...
Soon, they arrived at the outskirts of the harbor, the destination Ikuma Shougen had specified.
The scene was one of utter carnage. Dismembered limbs were scattered everywhere like grotesque confetti. A quick glance revealed a severed head with neatly combed black short hair lying beside a patch of tall grass, its face locked in a permanent mask of shock and terror. The eyes, bulging almost out of their sockets, seemed to stare right through them. Not far away, a fresh pile of mincemeat—what was once a person—had been crushed so precisely it vaguely resembled a morbid QR code, as if a giant steel roller had passed over it.
Perhaps because they were now downwind, the thick, coppery stench of blood—previously just a hint on the air—assailed their nostrils with its full, nauseating force.
Only…
"...Mahiro-san, what are you doing?"
Kaya watched, utterly perplexed, as Mahiro began moving through the gruesome scene. He wasn't mourning or searching for clues. Instead, he was carefully picking up various discarded weapons and pieces of equipment from the ground, meticulously wiping off the dirt and congealed blood with a detached efficiency.
And then, as if by magic, the items would simply vanish from his hands.
"Of course, I'm scavenging," he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Haven't you played those online battle royale games, Kaya? You know, the ones where you play as the 'old six'—the sneaky players who loot corpses in the middle of a firefight."
"..."
She was, in fact, familiar with the term. But the problem was… weren't they here on a critical mission to retrieve the apocalyptic briefcase?
"Mahiro-san," she began, her voice laced with genuine confusion, "are you, perhaps, very poor?" This was the only logical conclusion her brilliant mind could draw.
"Not poor, per se," he corrected, stashing a perfectly serviceable combat knife into his seemingly bottomless inventory. "Let's just say I never have enough money." It was the truth. The expenses for maintaining Arcadia, his sanctuary for the Cursed Children, were a veritable bottomless pit.
He continued his macabre harvest, picking up a standard-issue katana from the ground. He inspected the thin, straight blade critically. "Ooh, this one's perfectly intact. What a lucky find," he muttered to himself.
This behavior made it profoundly difficult for Kaya to believe that this was the same Yotsuba Mahiro rumored to be one of the most influential Initiators in the Tokyo Area. Does the president of Tendo Civil Security only exploit her subordinates and not pay them wages? she wondered, watching him pocket a handful of unused Varanium rounds.
Clang—!
A sudden, metallic sound echoed from the direction of a dilapidated single-story house, shattering the morbid quiet.
But upon seeing the person who emerged, Kaya, usually the very picture of calm, felt her eyes widen in sheer disbelief. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her lips.
"Ikuma… sensei…?"
She instinctively took a step forward, but Mahiro's arm shot out, blocking her path like an iron bar. "Don't," he said, his voice low and final. "He's already beyond saving. There's nothing you can do."
The man, still wearing his signature skull mask, was slumped against a rusted general store counter. He seemed to have heard their voices and slowly, painfully, pushed himself to his feet, stumbling towards them like a marionette with its strings cut. His eyes were gone, replaced by two bloody, hollow sockets.
"My sword… my sword…" he rasped, his voice a dry, rattling whisper. "Where is it…? With that… I can still… I can still fight…"
Ikuma Shougen didn't seem to recognize Kaya's voice. Perhaps he was no longer capable of processing it. In the last fleeting moments of his life, his entire world had narrowed to a single, driving instinct: find his weapon.
There was only one cruel, ironic problem.
The massive greatsword he was so desperately searching for was currently plunged, hilt-deep, into his own back.
Kaya could only stare at the horrific scene, her mind struggling to reconcile the broken, dying man before her with the loud, brash Promoter she knew.
"Ikuma-sensei…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Whoosh—!
Suddenly, a dark shadow descended from the rooftop above.
With a loud, final THUD, the descending figure landed, one foot stomping heavily onto the sword's hilt. The brutal impact drove the blade deeper with a sickening crunch of bone and tissue, forcing the mortally wounded Ikuma Shougen to his knees. The greatsword, now a grotesque crucifix, pinned him firmly to the blood-soaked ground, ending his suffering for good.
He looked like a sinner receiving his final, brutal judgment.
As the clear, cold moonlight spilled from the sky, it illuminated the true face of the figure now standing triumphantly on the sword's hilt.
It was a young boy, similar in age to Rentaro, wearing a dark blue, high-collared student uniform. A friendly, almost gentle smile was plastered on his face—not a mischievous grin, but a smile so unnervingly pleasant it was nauseating given the context.
"Yuuga Mitsugi. Correct?" Mahiro stated more than asked, stepping forward to fully shield Kaya behind him.
"This is truly… incredible! Incredible…!" the boy exclaimed, his eyes widening in theatrical surprise, as if he were an actor on a stage. Looking down from his macabre pedestal, he calmly spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "To think the esteemed Yotsuba Mahiro of the Tokyo Area would remember my name… I am truly, truly flattered."
It was confirmed. This guy was definitely a lunatic, cut from the same twisted cloth as Hiruko Kagetane.
With that infuriatingly leisurely and composed attitude, his hands still spread open, he bowed—a motion filled with politeness and humility that was utterly corrupted by its underlying arrogance.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. As you said, my name is Yuuga Mitsugi, and my codename is Dark Stalker." His smile never wavered. "Before the grand prelude begins, I, on behalf of our leader, extend our highest regards to you… and offer you an invitation. I wonder, are you interested in joining our Five Wings Syndicate?"
As soon as these words were uttered, they not only reached Yotsuba Mahiro's ears but were also clearly transmitted, via a hidden surveillance drone, to a very different, much more sterile environment.
...
4:10 AM. Tokyo Area Operations Headquarters.
A high-resolution electronic eye silently overlooked the harbor battlefield from eight hundred meters in the air. The real-time footage and crystal-clear audio were relayed directly to the large central screen in the tense command center. As everyone—soldiers, ministers, and strategists alike—watched the scene unfold, a deathly silence descended upon the room, thick enough to choke on.
"The Five Wings Syndicate…" Seitenshi's pure white figure seemed to grow paler as she stared at the display, her voice a whisper filled with dawning horror. "It's… the Five Wings Syndicate…"
The other ministers surrounding her also looked profoundly grim, their faces ashen.
Initially, they had believed this Yuuga Mitsugi was just a rogue element, a forgotten relic of the New Human Creation Project. They never imagined he was a member of the Five Wings Syndicate, that shadowy organization whose stated goal was nothing less than world domination!
Most present only knew the name in whispers. They didn't have a deep understanding of the group's workings.
Only Kikunojō Tendo, Kisara's grandfather, possessed a truly profound and bitter understanding of them. He had clashed with this organization several times in the past and was one of the rare individuals who had actually made them suffer losses.
Simply put, they were a terrorist organization. Yes, even in this terrible, Gastrea-ravaged world, the petty squabbles of humanity persisted—a case of dogs biting dogs.
But the Five Wings Syndicate was different from any ordinary terrorist group. They were veiled in mystery. No one knew who their supreme leader was, nor the full roster of their cadres. The only concrete fact was the terrifying rumor that they secretly controlled the heads of state in multiple regions.
And they had a particular, burning desire to eliminate Kikunojō Tendo.
Now, the people in the operations headquarters, including Kikunojō Tendo himself, understood the full, horrifying scope of the situation. This was no longer a simple retrieval mission. The situation had completely spiraled out of control.
The grim reality had settled over the operations headquarters like a suffocating blanket. Even the seasoned and formidable Kikunojō Tendo understood the horrifying truth—the situation had spiraled completely out of their control. The chilling conclusion was inescapable: the Five Wings Syndicate intended to use the Seven Stars Legacy as a catalyst to summon a Stage Five Gastrea, deliberately orchestrating the Great Extinction of the Tokyo Area!
On the screen, Yuuga Mitsugi's voice, slick and condescending, delivered the ultimatum. "How have you considered, esteemed sir? The organization's supreme leader is very fond of you. So, what will it be? Will you join us in this glorious evolution, become part of the New World Creation Project and accept modification… or will you become mere dust in history, swept away along with the rest of the Tokyo Area?" He tilted his head, his friendly smile never slipping. "Time is running out, you know."
Every single syrupy, menacing word was clearly heard by everyone in the command center, plunging the room deeper into despair.
"Is the Tokyo Area… is it really beyond saving…?" a voice quavered. The sheer, apocalyptic scale of the threat was too much to bear. Many were already shivering, their legs giving way as they slumped to the floor in utter hopelessness. To them, it felt like checkmate. The moment they learned a Stage Five was the true target, they could already foresee the total annihilation of their home.
"No! It is not time to give up yet!"
The voice that cut through the despair was pure and resolute. It was, naturally, Seitenshi.
"We still have our last trump card!" she declared, her fists clenched at her sides. Her unwavering gaze was fixed on the familiar figure on the screen. Over the past year, she had entrusted Yotsuba Mahiro with six high-stakes escort missions, and each time, just like now, he had left her with only the view of his back—a back that had always, without fail, brought her immense peace of mind.
Even if everyone else in the room doubted, even if the world seemed to be ending, she would still choose to believe in that back!
...
Meanwhile, at the harbor.
The salty sea breeze gently blew, carrying the thick scent of blood and iron.
Yotsuba Mahiro and Yuuga Mitsugi stood facing each other, the moonlight casting long, dramatic shadows behind them.
"So," Yuuga Mitsugi prompted, his smile unwavering, "what is your answer, sir?"
"I refuse."
Yotsuba Mahiro didn't hesitate for even a microsecond. His reply was flat, final, and dripping with contempt. "A bunch of rats hiding in the shadows, trying to threaten me with a broken box that can summon a Zodiac? And this 'New World Creation Plan'? With you?" He let out a short, derisive laugh. "Don't make me laugh. If you want to invite me, your leader should have the guts to come himself. Someone like Albrecht Grünewald of the Four Sages. Don't send a child to do a man's job."
The moment that name left his lips, Yuuga Mitsugi's perfectly crafted, friendly expression clearly wavered, cracking into something ugly and strained.
Mahiro had guessed right. The shadowy leader of the Five Wings Syndicate was indeed the famous chief of the Four Sages. There was no one else with the knowledge and skill to not only replicate but surpass Sumire Muroto's mechanized soldier project.
"It seems… your answer is a firm 'No', sir," Yuuga Mitsugi said, his voice losing some of its pleasantry, gaining a sharp, cold edge. "In that case, the prelude to your execution begins now. Please… enlighten me further~"
As soon as he finished speaking, a faint, almost imperceptible sound of footsteps on loose dirt could be heard nearby.
Kaya spun around, her body tense, her shotgun held at the ready. "Chikushō…! I can't see anything!" she whispered urgently, her eyes darting around the seemingly empty surroundings. She had no idea where the threat was coming from.
"Mr. Mahiro, please be careful! We don't know where the enemy will attack from!" she reminded him, her eyes already flashing a brilliant, power-activated crimson.
"It's just optical camouflage," Yotsuba Mahiro murmured, as if commenting on the weather.
Under his Sharingan, any information body, even one concealed by advanced optical camouflage, had nowhere to hide. The enemy was as clear as day to him.
"Hoh… You actually discovered us. You do have some skill, ne?" A voice, laced with mocking pity, sounded right beside his ear. A cold, predatory gaze, like that of a honed killing machine, focused on him from the empty space to his left.
The attack was swift and silent. It was so fast that even Kaya, with her powers unleashed, couldn't react in time. Just as she was about to swing her shotgun towards the sound, a shadowy figure suddenly lunged from the visual distortion of the darkness.
Gasp! Kaya instinctively threw herself half a step back, the passing shadow so close it ruffled her bangs.
BOOM!
A heavy thud came from the ground where she had just been standing, as if something massive had struck it. Upon closer inspection, deep tire marks were gouged into the dirt.
"Iya iya, no, no. You can't disturb their conversation," a new, lighter voice chimed in from above. "So you'll have to play with me instead, onee-chan."
The voice came from the top of a nearby ruined church. A young girl sat perched precariously on the edge of the eaves, her slender legs dangling freely, gently swinging back and forth. The elegant moonlight illuminated her silhouette. She wore a frilly, impractical dress and held a tattered stuffed toy in her arms. The wide brim of her straw hat obscured her face; the only discernible features were a pair of glowing crimson eyes peeking out from beneath the shadow of the hat. Another Cursed Child!
"Nice to meet you~" she sang, her voice a cheerful melody that clashed violently with the scene. "I'm Rika Kurume, codename 'Hummingbird'. Please take care of me!" The girl on the church roof gave a playful, mock-curtsey by slightly pulling up the hem of her dress.
"In that case, I'll introduce myself too," grunted the assailant who had just revealed himself, his optical camouflage flickering off. He was a hulking man with a pistol now aimed directly at Yotsuba Mahiro's temple. "I am Jūgo Shishigatani, codename 'Swordtail'. I am a mechanized soldier who inherited the 'Mario Jet' legacy. Remember that well… and then die."
"Too. Much. Talk." Mahiro's voice was a low growl, shattering the tense standoff he was supposed to be trapped in.
The tense standoff was shattered not by a gunshot, but by movement. Yotsuba Mahiro moved first. The moment Jūgo Shishigatani's finger began its microscopic squeeze on the trigger, a hurricane of motion erupted. The mechanized soldier suddenly felt the world upend and spin violently. By the time his combat-trained nerves could even begin to react, his back was already being slammed deep into the mud, the impact driving the air from his lungs in a pained grunt. Mahiro's grip was like a vice around his neck, pinning him, while the cold, unforgiving muzzle of the CAD was pressed firmly against his forehead.
"Looks like you lost," Mahiro stated, his voice a flat, emotionless monotone that was more terrifying than any shout.
"Wait... wait a minute! Masaka…!" Jūgo choked out, his eyes wide with sheer, uncomprehending shock. He had lost? Just like that? Before his mission had even properly begun?! How was such a speed even possible?!
"No waiting."
There was no hesitation, no dramatic pause. Mahiro simply pulled the trigger. A brilliant flash of psionic light erupted from the muzzle, and Jūgo Shishigatani, the mechanized soldier codenamed 'Swordtail', ceased to exist, his body disintegrating into a fine, shimmering dust that settled over the crater his body had made.
Meanwhile, Kaya was locked in her own desperate battle.
Pat-a-pat, pat-a-pat.
"'Necropolis Strider'—Awaken, my lovely familiars," Rika Kurume chanted, her voice a singsong nursery rhyme.
"GOGOGO!"
She clapped her hands in time with her words, as if conducting a playful game. And in response, the scattered, discarded tires littering the ground below her writhed and then stood upright, imbued with a sinister, self-aware consciousness. They began to roll towards Kaya with malevolent purpose.
"Oh, by the way," the girl added, her tone as innocent as if she were offering a piece of candy, "I can make sure you die painlessly, onee-chan. So, let's change the way we play!"
Her voice sharpened. "—'Offensive Enc Thorn'."
With another squelching, organic command, a horrifying transformation occurred. Huge, razor-sharp blades sprouted from various parts of the rolling tires, instantly morphing them from strange projectiles into spinning wheels of death. The high-speed rotating blades cut through the air with a menacing whirr, transforming each one into a veritable meat grinder.
Boom!
Kaya leaped backwards, her enhanced agility the only thing saving her as the bladed tires shredded the spot where she had just been standing. While still in mid-air, she didn't hesitate. She raised her heavy shotgun, aiming not at the tires, but at their master on the church roof, and fired a grenade.
BOOM!!!
The scorching blast enveloped the rooftop in fire and shrapnel. But in the very next second, the fiery explosion was torn apart, dissipating into a harmless, scattered tornado. The cause was one of those eerie tires, its blades spinning so fast they had created a defensive vortex, blocking all damage.
"It's no use, no use~!" Rika chirped, completely unharmed. "This kind of attack can't hurt my 'Striders' at all. GO!"
She raised her hand, pointing a single finger at Kaya, who was still maneuvering in the air. The 'Striders' roared to life again, the impact wave engines mounted on them whining as they charged forth with renewed ferocity.
Kaya, using the recoil from her shotgun blasts to constantly shift her position in a dangerous aerial dance, managed to dodge the attacks again and again. But the bladed tires were relentless, crashing around the environment like hyper-destructive pinballs, caroming off walls, abandoned car frames, and huge rocks. Their violent, unpredictable paths left the area ravaged, scarred with deep gouges. Once her ability was activated, it seemed nothing alive could escape; this was the terrifying origin of her nickname, 'City of Annihilation'.
"Over the rainbow~" the girl hummed, hugging her stuffed toy and swinging her white-stockinged legs as if she were at a picnic, utterly engrossed in the music of slaughter.
Though Kaya tried her best to remain analytical, she was running out of options. Move closer to the church, force the wheels to fly towards the girl? She had tried that. The wheels, as if protected by an invisible barrier of their controller's will, simply refused to harm their master.
What to do…?
Just as a blade-tire closed in for what seemed like an unavoidable strike, it suddenly, silently, turned into a cloud of fine, grey dust in mid-air.
"...Mahiro-san?"
Kaya landed softly, turning her head in surprise and relief. There was no one else who could accomplish such a thing.
"My familiar!!!" Rika shrieked, her playful demeanor vanishing as she saw her toys disintegrate. She looked down, her crimson eyes locking with Mahiro's icy gaze from below. She saw him slowly open his mouth, forming a single, silent word with his lips.
'Goodbye.'
Psionic light flashed. 'Hummingbird', Kurumi Rika, immediately followed in the footsteps of 'Swordtail', her form dissolving into nothingness. The mechanical prosthetic parts that had enhanced her clattered down from the roof, landing uselessly on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Mahiro-san," Kaya said, walking out from behind cover. Though somewhat disheveled, her face was its usual mask of calm, but he could still discern the faint aura of dejection around her. "I held you back because of my own weakness."
Mahiro reached out and ruffled her light golden hair. "What kind of nonsense is that? Against an opponent like that, you did exceptionally well, lKaya-chan."
And he meant it. She had been excellent. Kaya was not a combat-type factor. Even with the innate physical advantages granted by her Dolphin genetic heritage, her speed and strength were only on par with an ordinary Cursed Child. She couldn't compare to powerhouses like Kohina or Enju, nor even to the disciplined strength of Asaka. Yet, she had held her own against a modified soldier. The two fallen enemies had utilized the plans of the other Sages—Arthur Shanack's mechanical enhancements and An Rand's thought-driven interface. The mechanical parts they left behind were swiftly collected by Mahiro and vanished into his storage ring.
Which left only one. The final crystallization, the one who mimicked and sought to surpass Sumire Muroto's work.
"It's your turn, Yuuga Mitsugi."
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Yuuga Mitsugi gracefully leaped down from the tip of the greatsword still pinning Ikuma Shougen's body, applauding slowly as he walked towards them.
"That was quite a spectacular performance, Yotsuba-sama," he said, his voice dripping with false admiration. "That ability is truly comparable to our New World Creation Plan... No wonder the supreme leader of our organization is so fond of you. It's a true pity… that you're going to die by my hand."
"You spout as much nonsense as that fried fish back there," Mahiro retorted, utterly unimpressed. He saw no reason to waste more words. He directly raised 'Night Demon' and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
...
"It's useless! Useless! Muda muda! I've already seen through everything about you!"
Yuuga Mitsugi laughed wildly, a manic, triumphant edge to his voice. As he spoke, intricate geometric patterns flickered to life within his eyes. The high-performance CPU installed within his synthetic eyeballs whirred to life, the pupils themselves seeming to spin and recalibrate. These prosthetic eyes were a vast improvement over the standard 'Type 21 Black Iron' model used by Rentaro Satomi; this was a cutting-edge computational device capable of slowing down perceived time and accelerating his thoughts to a terrifying degree.
The moment his prosthetic eyes reached their operational peak, his thought frequency skyrocketed. The world around him—the drifting dust, the sea breeze, the very flow of time itself—slowed to a molasses-like crawl within his field of vision. In this hyper-accelerated state, even Yotsuba Mahiro's movements were decipherable, his speed rendered manageable.
"Technology changes the future! I am the crystallization of humanity's highest technological achievement!" Yuuga proclaimed, his voice echoing in the slowed-time silence. "I can predict your every attack trajectory by observing the minute contractions of your muscle fibers, by reading the subtle undulations beneath your skin! No matter how fast you are, you can't defeat me! And if you ask why…!"
The dirt beneath his feet exploded outwards as Yuuga launched himself forward at a blinding speed, his movements a perfect, deadly mirror of Rentaro's own fighting style!
"—It's because I can see the future! Now, die!!"
His fist, reinforced and powered by his mechanized body, shot forward in a perfectly predicted trajectory, aimed to obliterate Mahiro's face.
However.
A crack appeared in his perfect calculation. Even with his thoughts accelerated, even while operating within his own personal temporal domain, he saw it: Yotsuba Mahiro's lips curled at the corner into a faint, unmistakable smirk.
It was a look of pure, undiluted mockery.
Nani?! Why?! Why can this guy still express himself so freely within my domain?!
The thought, processed at a hundred times normal speed, was a spark of panic. And immediately after, he heard a faint, utterly indifferent voice leisurely resound in his ear, as if the speaker had all the time in the world—
"Then, in that future you see… did you witness your own decomposition?"
It began not as an impact, but as a sensation. A flame seemed to ignite within the very fabric of his being.
At his hundredfold accelerated thought frequency, Yuuga Mitsugi was granted a horrifyingly intimate and detailed experience of his own demise. He could feel it with crystal clarity—every single nerve ending screaming as it was severed, every blood vessel dissolving, every individual cell, down to the very strands of his DNA, being systematically taken apart by an invisible, inexorable force. He was being deconstructed, reduced back into the most basic elements that constituted the world.
The released biochemical energy manifested as a scorching, all-consuming heat that ignited his body from the inside out, a pain so absolute it felt like his very soul was burning. The agony was so intense he wished for nothing more than to plunge into a glacial sea.
But the next moment, that wish was perversely granted. The heat vanished, replaced by a boundless, absolute coldness. His prosthetic eyes were still mechanically functional, processing data, but for some reason, his vision feed cut to a pitch-black void. Static.
Thinking?
He could no longer grasp the concept. He no longer even remembered the name 'Yuuga Mitsugi'. The only thing his fading consciousness registered was a sensation of weightlessness, as if his soul were detaching, drifting away from the ruined shell of his body…
Like a gentle, final breeze, the existence named Yuuga Mitsugi passed from the world. The only proof he left behind was a pile of advanced Varanium prosthetic limbs, which Yotsuba Mahiro promptly collected and tossed into his storage ring without a second glance. A dying message? There was no time for such dramatics. Mahiro was too lazy to listen, and his opponent had proven himself utterly unworthy of a final monologue.
"Let's go," Mahiro said, his voice returning to its usual casual tone. "Time to see this so-called Seven Stars Legacy."
He led Kaya to where Ikuma Shougen lay. With a respectful silence, they buried the fallen Promoter. Afterwards, Kaya, with a surprising show of strength, hefted the man's massive greatsword, the comical sight of a petite loli carrying a weapon nearly twice her height somehow radiating a solemn determination.
He didn't try to dissuade her. Instead, he led the way into the dilapidated, abandoned church. He could feel the electronic gaze from above; a surveillance drone was circling high overhead, undoubtedly sent by Seitenshi's command center. But strangely, as they crossed the threshold into the church's shadowy interior, the drone did not follow them in.
Soon, he understood why.
There, placed upon a long, rotting table at the far end of the nave, was the white aluminum alloy briefcase. And it was open.
These lunatics had truly intended to wipe the Tokyo Area off the map.
But what lay inside was not some complex high-tech device, nor a glowing, exotic ore. The object nestled within the protective casing was red, simple, and clearly broken—
"A… child's tricycle…?" Kaya whispered, her voice barely audible in the vast, empty space.
"Yes, that's right." Mahiro let out a soft, weary sigh. "This is the Legacy of the Seven Stars. And it's also the catalyst for summoning a Zodiac Gastrea. You're a smart girl, Kaya. You must have already guessed, haven't you?"
Hearing this, Kaya was first stunned into silence, then a heavy, wordless quiet descended upon her.
A broken child's tricycle. The Legacy of the Seven Stars. The catalyst for a Zodiac.
These three disparate concepts, when combined, revealed a truth so horrifying it was almost blasphemous. Her mind, against its will, conjured an image: a child even smaller than herself, laughing innocently as they pedaled this very tricycle… only to be infected with the viral core of a Zodiac Gastrea, their small body and soul twisted and expanded into a cataclysmic Stage V monster. That was just the surface-level horror; Senju Kayo's brilliant, tormented mind dared not imagine the deeper, more sadistic implications of the Seven Stars Village experiments.
She raised her head, her eyes—now returned to their normal hue—gazing emptily at Mahiro.
"Nee, Mahiro-san… what are we even fighting for?"
She didn't know why she asked such a philosophical question. In the past, when she was partnered with Ikuma Shougen, she fought for his goals, for his profits. After his death, she felt a duty to act, to fight for the Tokyo Area, to protect the concept of a home. But now, after witnessing this ultimate perversion, she felt utterly lost. A terrifying thought looped in her mind, compelling her to ask this strange, powerful onii-san, desperately hoping he had an answer.
"I don't really know either," Yotsuba Mahiro admitted, a faint, wry smile touching his lips as he instinctively reached out to ruffle her hair. "I'm merely a passerby in this world, when you get down to it. But if I had to say what I'm fighting for right now… it's for you children. For the people I want to protect. And that includes you, Kaya-chan."
"..."
Kaya was stunned by the simplicity and directness of his answer, staring blankly at him. Her small hand clutched tightly at the lapel of her dress. That handsome, gentle smile was seared into her mind, and she involuntarily lowered her head, a faint blush tinging her cheeks.
"That way of speaking… is truly despicable, you know…" she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost stolen by the church's silence. "Mahiro-san… you really are a hopeless, 100% pure lolicon."
It was the first time a genuine, flustered emotion she herself couldn't quite define had colored her tone.
BZZT. BZZT.
The moment was shattered by the jarring ring of his satellite phone. He answered, and Seitenshi's voice came through, her tone graver and more urgent than he had ever heard it.
"Mahiro-san, I apologize for calling at this moment, but there is something you absolutely must know—" her voice was tight with a fear that was palpable even through the connection, "—Scorpio. One of the Zodiac Gastrea… it's here."