Kaito learned quickly that recovery was a lie.
Pain faded, yes.But alignment didn't return.
He could walk. He could breathe. He could even focus—briefly. But everything on his left side lagged, as if the world reached him half a heartbeat late. When he turned his head, the city followed a fraction of a second afterward.
It was subtle.
And terrifying.
They had moved again—another temporary shelter, another forgotten place where the city forgot to look. A parking structure this time, levels half-collapsed, shadows stacked on shadows.
Ryuji stood guard near the ramp.
Jun sat beside Kaito, quiet for once.
Haneul paced.
— Your pulse is still off, Haneul said, chain whispering as it shifted.— You're fighting the recoil.
Kaito flexed his fingers.
— I can handle it.
Ryuji didn't turn.
— You handled it already.— Now you live with it.
Silence settled.
Then—
A single light flickered on.
Not above them.
Across the structure.
A floodlight snapped to life, illuminating the far wall in harsh white. Dust glittered in the beam like frozen snow.
Jun squinted.
— Since when does this place have power?
Ryuji's hand went to his katana.
— Since someone wanted a clear line of sight.
The answer came as a calm voice carried through the structure, amplified just enough to be heard.
— Good evening.
Jun's stomach dropped.
— …That's him.
Isaac Vale didn't appear.
His presence did.
Another light activated. Then another. One by one, the floodlights came alive, bathing the entire level in sterile brightness. Shadows vanished.
Dead angles disappeared.
— You shouldn't be here, Isaac's voice continued evenly.— This structure has too many variables.
Haneul's chain tightened.
— He's not aiming…, they whispered.— He's setting the board.
Kaito stood slowly, ignoring the way the world tilted.
— If you're not here to shoot, Isaac, then talk.
A pause.
— Fair.
The hum of machinery deepened. Something shifted far above them—metal grinding against metal.
Ryuji cursed.
— He's moving the structure.
The floor trembled as a section of concrete began to descend, blocking one exit. Another ramp collapsed inward with a deafening crash.
— He's sealing us in, Jun shouted.
— No, Isaac corrected calmly.— I'm simplifying the future.
The name finally came, not from Isaac—but from a different voice.
— That rifle…, Ryuji said quietly.— The one you're carrying—
Isaac chuckled softly.
— You recognize it.
Ryuji's jaw tightened.
— Last Argument.
The words landed heavy.
Jun felt it—like a rule had been spoken aloud.
— So you do know, Isaac said.— Good.
Another tremor ran through the structure. Far above, something massive shifted into place.
— You're not firing, Kaito said.— You don't need to.
— Correct.
A new sound joined the hum—mechanical, rhythmic.
A countdown.
Haneul's eyes widened.
— He locked a future…, they said.— But not a bullet.
Kaito understood.
Too late.
— He locked us.
The floor beneath their feet groaned as stress fractures spread outward. The structure wasn't collapsing randomly.
It was collapsing cleanly.
One outcome.
One end.
Jun panicked.
— Kaito— DO SOMETHING!
Kaito stepped forward instinctively—
And staggered.
Pain ripped through his skull as the recoil flared violently, his vision fracturing into lines and afterimages. The mark tried to surface—
And failed.
Ryuji caught him.
— You can't place it now!
The countdown ticked lower.
Isaac's voice was calm.
— If you intervene again, you'll destabilize yourself.— You know this.
Haneul shook.
— He's forcing you to choose.
Kaito clenched his teeth.
— I can stop it.
— You can erase it, Isaac corrected.— And in doing so, erase yourself a little more.
The countdown reached its final seconds.
Jun's breath hitched.
— Kaito…
Kaito looked at them.
At Ryuji.
At Haneul.
And then—
He stopped.
He stepped back.
The mark withdrew.
The structure collapsed.
Concrete thundered downward, dust swallowing the world in violent darkness. The impact threw them apart, the shockwave slamming Kaito into the ground as the ceiling gave way—
And then—
Stillness.
When the dust settled, the parking level was gone.
Crushed cleanly.
A perfect collapse.
Far above, Isaac Vale lowered his scope.
He hadn't fired.
He hadn't needed to.
— Outcome confirmed, he murmured.
He paused.
Checked the feed again.
His brow furrowed.
— …They survived?
The future shifted.
Just slightly.
Isaac straightened.
— You didn't intervene, Kaito Arashi.
His voice was thoughtful.
— You chose restraint.
For the first time, uncertainty crept into his calculations.
Elsewhere, deep within the rubble, a single shot rang out.
Not from Isaac.
From below.
A sharp crack echoed through twisted concrete as a steel cable snapped taut, ripping debris aside with impossible precision.
A figure moved in the dust—fast, controlled—using a long-range grappling launcher integrated into a compact weapon. Each shot anchored perfectly, pulling slabs away, carving a path.
— This way, a voice called.— Move if you want to live.
Kaito's blurred vision caught a silhouette—lean, masked, weapon held steady even in chaos.
Distance.
Control.
Not Isaac.
Another one.
Ryuji grinned despite the pain.
— Looks like we weren't the only ones watching.
Haneul stared in awe.
— That aim…
The figure paused, glancing back once.
— I've been tracking Last Argument, they said calmly.— You just happened to survive it.
They fired another cable.
— Come on.— Before he recalculates.
Kaito pushed himself up, pain roaring—but manageable.
He looked back once, toward the distant skyline.
— I didn't stop him…, Kaito whispered.
— No, Ryuji said.— You forced him to adjust.
Far away, Isaac Vale watched the structure's remains.
— Interesting…, he murmured.
He turned away.
— The next shot won't be environmental.