The sky above the capital was gray.
Clouds hung low, heavy with dust and ash, as if even the heavens couldn't bear to look down.
Rows of soldiers stood in silence, their uniforms black, their heads bowed. The faint hum of the wind carried the sound of distant drums—slow, steady, mourning.
At the front of the line stood the memorial platform. Four coffins made of reinforced glass shimmered under the dull light.
Zuberi Kaelani.
Echo Virell.
Nova Greaves.
And finally—Rose Valcrest.
Riku stood before the fallen mages first, his cloak brushing against the platform as he bowed his head. "You fulfilled your duty with honor," he said softly. "Rest in peace with the Great Spirit."
As his words faded, a ceremonial volley of mana rifles cracked through the air.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
The sound echoed through the courtyard—sharp, final.
When the smoke cleared, it was Angel Squad's turn.
They stood together—Arnik, Markus, Aika, and Kai—dressed in black, their badges glinting faintly in the muted light. Aika leaned heavily on Arnik's arm, barely holding herself upright.
Rose's glass coffin sat slightly apart from the others. The world around it was quiet, almost reverent.
Markus stepped forward first. He placed his hand gently against the glass, his reflection faintly visible in it.
"We never saw eye to eye on most things," he said quietly. "You being a demi-cat and all—it was in our nature to… clash."
He paused, his jaw tightening. "But I never thought I'd have to say goodbye like this."
His voice faltered. "I just got back to you guys, and now…" He stopped, looking down, unable to finish.
He stepped aside, head bowed, fists clenched.
Aika followed next. Her steps were small, trembling. She stared down at the coffin as if waiting for it to open—waiting for Rose to sit up and laugh.
"Rose…" she began, her voice breaking almost immediately. "You… you were the reason I could smile again. The reason I could sleep without nightmares."
She tried to keep her composure, but her lips quivered. Tears spilled over. "You saved me… You were my best friend…"
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed against the glass.
"ROSE!!!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the courtyard. "Please… please come back…"
Arnik moved fast, kneeling beside her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close as she shook uncontrollably.
"It's okay…" he whispered, though his voice trembled too. "It's okay…"
The soldiers nearby looked away, their faces grim.
Then Kai stepped forward.
He moved slowly, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other hanging loosely by his side. His expression was calm—too calm.
He stood in front of the glass coffin and looked down at her.
Even in death, Rose looked peaceful. Her hair was brushed neatly, her ears tucked softly beneath the cloth lining. Her lips curved faintly, like she'd just been caught smiling in her sleep.
Kai let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh.
"Well, Rose," he said quietly, "you always did say my ugly mug would be the death of you."
A few soldiers nearby blinked in surprise.
"And you were right," he continued. "Guess you couldn't resist the charm of a useless perv like me."
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "You seriously knew how to push my buttons. Every damn day. And now look—you got the last laugh."
His hand trembled as he reached out, tapping the glass lightly.
"I bet our little boy's gonna be just as annoying as you," he said with a crooked smile. "Loud. Stubborn. Always talking back…"
His voice cracked on the last word. He tried to laugh again, but it broke halfway through.
Then—something unexpected. From his eyes, clear fluid began to leak down his cheeks, trailing along his jaw.
He stared for a second, blinking. "Huh… guess I must've sprung a leak," he muttered softly.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the glass.
"Goodbye, Rose," he whispered. "You can rest now… I'll do the rest."
He stayed there for a moment longer, eyes closed, hand pressed flat against the coffin.
Arnik stepped forward last.
The air around the coffin felt still, heavy, yet he walked with steady steps. His boots clicked against the marble floor as he stopped just before Rose's glass pod.
He stood there in silence for a long moment, looking down at her peaceful face. Then, slowly, he smiled—soft at first, then wider, brighter.
"I know you wouldn't want us to act so depressed," he said, voice shaking just enough to show the truth behind the grin. "But it's kinda hard right now, Rose."
He let out a quiet laugh, tilting his head back, eyes glistening. "Still… if you were here, you'd probably smack me in the back of the head and tell me to stop sulking, right?"
He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, only to find more tears following. But he didn't stop smiling.
"Fine then," he said, standing tall, his voice rising with energy. "I'll keep morale up, Rose—just you wait! We'll fight, we'll laugh, and we'll live loud enough for you to hear us from wherever you are!"
His words carried through the courtyard like sunlight cutting through smoke.
Aika lifted her head, eyes wide.
That smile—she hadn't seen it in years. It was the old Arnik. The one who used to light up every room, the one who made everyone believe things would be okay no matter how bad they got.
Her heart fluttered. He's still there… she thought, the Arnik I admired.
Markus crossed his arms and scoffed under his breath.
"We're not back on Earth," he muttered. "Our old selves are dead."
But even he couldn't fully hide the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Behind them, Miu, Takashima, Blitz, Andrew, and Vayne all exchanged quiet smiles. Watching the broken squad stand together again—even in grief—gave them something rare in war: hope.
"I believe they'll get stronger from this," Vayne said softly.
Andrew nodded. "They already have."
The wind swept across the courtyard then, carrying the sound of Arnik's laugh through the ranks of soldiers—a laugh filled with sorrow and strength all at once.
And for the first time since the battle ended, the air around them felt a little less heavy.
The ceremony was nearing its end.
The sky above the memorial had gone dim, painted in hues of rust and gray. The last of the soldiers were stepping back, saluting one final time as the faint hum of the mana field surrounding the coffins began to fade.
Angel Squad stayed behind. They couldn't walk away just yet.
Kai knelt beside Rose's coffin. Next to him sat a sleek, black violin case.
He ran his fingers over it once before lifting it and standing.
"Markus…" Kai said quietly.
Markus turned, his expression still guarded, but his eyes softened at the sound of his name.
Kai exhaled slowly and held out the case. "Rose never would admit it, but… one of the few things she ever talked seriously about was your music."
He gave a small, bittersweet laugh. "You know, your last performance? Rose didn't want to miss it so bad she—" he paused, smiling faintly through the ache—"she stole a shopping cart and rode it to the theater."
Even Aika blinked, lips trembling between a sob and a laugh.
"It was stupid… reckless… totally ridiculous," Kai said softly. "But that was Rose."
He lowered the case into Markus's hands. "I think… she'd love for you to play her one last song."
Markus stared at it for a long time. His fingers trembled as he opened the latches. Inside, perfectly preserved, rested his old violin—dark wood, strings shimmering faintly with mana residue. He swallowed hard, his reflection warping in the polished surface.
"I… I'll do it," he whispered.
He stepped forward. The soldiers nearby instinctively quieted. The world seemed to hold its breath.
Markus stood at the head of Rose's glass coffin, the wind gently brushing against his hair. He adjusted the violin beneath his chin, his fingers finding the strings with uncertain familiarity.
For a moment, he didn't move. Then—
The first note sang.
It was soft, trembling, but beautiful.
A single voice in the quiet air, resonating like a heartbeat that refused to fade.
The sound filled the courtyard—melancholy and warm.
Aika covered her mouth, tears already falling. Even the mages standing at a distance paused, listening.
Vayne, Blitz, and Andrew turned their heads toward the melody, faces solemn.
Kai whispered, "That sound… it's her farewell."
Arnik nodded slowly. "No… it's all of ours."
Markus's eyes closed. The bow glided again—steady, graceful.
This feeling… I haven't felt it in so long.
Pride. Joy. Life.
His chest tightened. The sound swelled—gentle, then powerful.
It's warm… Rose would have smiled if she heard this.
She'd probably tease me for playing something so sappy—
Then, something inside him cracked.
But… why does it hurt so much?
The next note wavered. The sound shifted—sharper, broken.
—Why now… why can't I forget?
Images burst behind his eyes.
His home—flames eating the walls.
His family screaming.
The blood on his sword, his hands, his face.
The look in their eyes when he cut them down—soldiers, enemies, innocents—none of it mattered back then.
He told himself it was vengeance. Justice.
But all he saw now was death.
His breath quickened. His bow hand shook.
The music faltered—notes stuttering, clashing, unraveling into a jagged mess of noise.
The mournful song twisted into something dissonant, raw, almost violent.
Aika pressed her hands to her ears. "Markus… stop…" she whispered.
Kai's eyes widened, voice tense. "He's losing control."
Arnik took a step forward, eyes narrowing. "Markus!"
The sound only grew sharper, harsher—his body trembling with every movement of the bow. Tears mixed with sweat, streaming down his face.
Children… families… I killed them all.
Men who begged for mercy… I showed them none.
They were only trying to protect their own—
And I cut them down anyway.
His vision blurred. The violin screamed.
He could barely breathe.
Kai's voice dropped to a whisper, uneasy. "Arnik… this isn't like him. I've never seen him play like this before."
Arnik's eyes darkened, watching the tremor in Markus's hands. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It's not music anymore… it's pain."
Markus froze. The bow slipped from his hand, hitting the ground with a soft clack.
The last note hung in the air—long, thin, broken—before fading into silence.
He stood there, shaking, staring down at the violin. His reflection quivered on its polished surface—eyes wide, hollow, distant.
Then, finally, he whispered—barely audible.
"…I already have."
The wind carried the words away.
No one moved.
"They deserved it…"
The words left Markus's lips like a ghost escaping. His eyes were glassy, unfocused—seeing something far away, something only he could.
The violin slipped from his hand.
Clack.
The soft sound carried through the quiet courtyard.
"I… I can't play it," he muttered. His hands shook violently. He stared down at them—pale, trembling, stained red in his mind.
Blood. So much blood.
It won't wash off. It never did.
All those faces… staring back at me.
"The man I was then…" his voice trembled, "and the man I am now…"
He bent down, picked the violin up again, his fingers clumsy against the strings. His mind was blank—no rhythm, no melody. Only noise.
I see…
I can't even play the violin anymore.
Why does it all have to be taken from me?
Because of me. Because I chose this path.
This is what I get for walking it.
I told myself vengeance was noble. But vengeance eats everything.
He laughed once—dry, hollow, broken.
I made my sacrifices. And this… this is all that's left.
Arnik watched from a few steps away, chest rising and falling fast. His fists clenched.
Markus… what happened to you?
And if I keep walking forward… will this be me too?
Markus turned and began to walk toward them, slow and heavy, like his boots were made of lead.
"Sorry…" he murmured. "I just… can't do it. I can't."
Aika, still in Arnik's arms, was silent. Her eyes were red, her body limp. Arnik held her tighter, watching Markus pass, his violin hanging from his fingers, bow dragging against the ground.
They all turned and left together.
Aika in Arnik's arms, Markus behind them, his head bowed. His hands still shook, faintly twitching with the memory of the song that had died inside him.
Arnik looked back once.
I failed to save him from that darkness.
And maybe one day… it'll take me too.
One by one, they disappeared down the hall, leaving the courtyard quiet again.
Only Kai remained.
He stood before Rose's coffin long after the others had gone, the ash still falling faintly from the sky. He stared at her face through the glass, and for the first time in his new body, he felt truly alone.
"You always talked too much," he said softly. "Now it's too damn quiet."
He waited for her voice. Nothing.
"You'd probably tell me to stop acting like a fool," he said, chuckling weakly. "To eat, rest, live…"
Still silence.
He pressed a hand against the glass, the hum of his synthetic heart filling the air. "Guess you're really ignoring me this time."
The courtyard lights dimmed. The silence deepened.
"Goodnight, Rose," he whispered.
And when the last light went out, Kai stayed there—
alone in the dark, speaking to a woman who would never answer again.