Survivors in the Hangar
The fires had been extinguished. Smoke drifted lazily through the skeletal remains of the Sky Guardian's hangar, now eerily silent except for the hiss of broken pipes.
Akio sat slumped against the cold steel wall, his coat in tatters, hands caked in dried blood that no water would ever truly wash away. His gut rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. Every bone screamed.
Raka knelt beside him, her hand trembling as she pressed a bandage over his ribcage. Tears still streaked her face, though she forced a smile.
"You're... still here."
Akio gave the faintest of nods. His lips curved into something halfway between a smirk and a grimace.
"I promised... I'd never leave again."
Behind them, Riki leaned heavily against a broken railing, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. The smoke curled above his bruised face.
"Damn it, Hukitaske... You made us all watch you dance with death again. I swear, one day your luck's gonna run out."
Hikata was silent, staring out at the storm beyond the open hatch where Matahiko had fallen. His usually composed news reporter hands were trembling. "Luck didn't save him," he murmured. "He chose every move. Even if it cost his soul."
Rumane sat with her knees tucked to herself, head buried in her arms. She couldn't stop the quiet sobs, the aftershocks of terror that rippled through her body. When she finally looked up at Akio, her eyes were red and raw.
"You saved us. Again. But... how much more can you keep giving before there's nothing left of you?"
Akio had no answer. He only stared at his hands, scarred and stained.
The World Watches
Two days later.
Tokyo. The world's media swarmed as the Sky Guardian, crippled but intact, was docked under heavy guard. Helicopters circled. Broadcast vans lined the streets. News anchors screamed headlines:
"Red Smoke Bandits Unmasked — Chemical Terror Plot Foiled!"
"Hero Pharmacist Hukitaske Saves Hundreds in Floating Sky Facility!"
"Terror Cell Exposed as Remnants of Scarlet Helix!"
The government scrambled to control the narrative. Officials gave stiff press conferences, vowing to dismantle every last trace of the Scarlet Helix. Yet their eyes betrayed unease — the public had seen too much, panicked too deeply.
Akio and his friends were whisked into a quiet hospital wing away from the cameras. Politicians offered medals. Reporters begged for interviews. Akio refused them all.
In the sterile silence of his hospital room, he turned his face to the window. Neon lights glowed over the city, alive and buzzing. Yet all he could see was the storm over the ocean, Matahiko's final scream, and the way Crimson Sleep had blackened his veins.
The Ribbon of Ashes
The pharmacy back home stood untouched, its shelves neatly arranged, its windows glowing warmly against the winter night. People left flowers at the door. Crayon drawings from children hung on the walls, depicting Akio as a smiling hero in a white coat.
When Akio finally returned, supported by Raka and Riki, the bell above the door chimed softly. It was the sound of home. The sound of life continuing.
On the counter sat the framed photo of Kaede, his daughter, her eyes bright with a joy he could never reclaim. Beneath it, the hand-painted sign still read:
"For the dreams we almost lost."
Akio touched the frame gently. For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe.
The Haunting Coda
Far away.
A hidden laboratory, buried beneath an abandoned industrial zone on the edge of Osaka. Flickering fluorescent lights illuminated rows of test tubes, glowing faintly with a crimson hue.
A person in a black lab coat entered, his footsteps echoing. His face was hidden behind a porcelain mask, but his voice carried cold precision.
"So... Matahiko failed. Predictable."
Another figure, seated at a console, tapped keys rapidly. Streams of data scrolled across the monitors — chemical formulas, genetic codes, neural interface models.
"The test was successful, though," the figure replied, their voice calm, almost cheerful. "The Crimson Sleep worked flawlessly in a live environment. Panic spread. Governments bent. Fear is still the greatest reagent."
The masked figure paused, gazing at a vial of crimson liquid, the same neurotoxin Akio had used to end Matahiko. He lifted it to the light, the liquid shimmering like blood in glass.
"Then we continue. Let the world think the Red Smoke Bandits are gone. Let them believe their pharmacist hero ended us."
He placed the vial back in its rack.
"The Scarlet Helix is eternal. And soon... even their brightest pharmacist will drown in it."
The lights dimmed. The hum of machines grew louder, almost alive.
Final Image
Back at his pharmacy, Akio sat by the counter long after everyone had gone to sleep. The night was quiet. Too quiet.
The wind rattled the windows, carrying a faint sound that wasn't really there — laughter. Matahiko's laugh. The Scarlet Helix's echo.
Akio closed his eyes. His fists clenched.
The war wasn't over.
Not yet.
🔻 End of Epilogue — The Scarlet Helix Will Rise Again... 🔻