Both had unleashed bursts of speed, but—T.M. Opera O still couldn't catch Admire Vega.
Because Admire Vega gripped something harder than diamond—a belief that refused to yield.
The gap between them shrank slightly, yet remained trivial, almost negligible. With only a thousand meters left, panic hadn't set in just yet.
But failing to see any meaningful progress threw T.M. Opera O once more into doubt.
How was it possible that she couldn't catch up to Admire Vega?
The disbelief flashed briefly in T.M. Opera O's mind, threatening to undermine her resolve. Thankfully, she realized that hesitation would only drag her down. With a deep breath, she swept the uncertainty aside, standing firm once more at a crossroads.
Should she push harder?
Should she pour everything into overtaking Admire Vega right now?
If this wasn't enough, then all that remained was giving it everything she had. Going full throttle would surely let her surpass Admire Vega—but would leave nothing in reserve for the final straight.
And T.M. Opera O had never lost sight of Garden Gale.
She had no idea what Admire Vega had planned, but she couldn't let that girl run unchecked all the way to the finish.
The Overlord felt trapped.
Gone was the earlier bravado; maintaining this exhausting pace, countless worries clouded her mind.
It's said momentum fades with every hesitation:
First surge unstoppable, second weaker, third depleted.
When T.M. Opera O allowed doubt to seep in, she doomed herself to remain behind. To close the gap now, she had to erase every shred of hesitation and regain clarity—yet her self-confidence began cracking, fragmenting like broken mirrors scattering into starlight.
When the Overlord clenched her fists, those fractured mirrors reassembled instantly, forming one whole again.
If she ever let doubt control her thoughts, T.M. Opera O wouldn't deserve the title "Overlord." She'd always believed she was the greatest opera of this era, destined to carve her name into history. No one surpassed her strength—no one ever would!
—Win.
Her mind cleared instantly.
Thoughts crystallized into singular focus, turning chaotic mental entropy into something stable, powerful, and utterly ordered.
And this... was the state of Flow, the gateway into the [ZONE].
The fangs she'd bared at the Satsuki Sho gleamed once again, polished bright enough to reflect the distant figure of the Umamusume ahead.
The hunt was about to begin.
Admire Vega sensed danger unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Her hair stood on end, her pace unconsciously faltered, and cold sweat streaked down her forehead. She couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or pure fear.
Because she knew—
T.M. Opera O was coming.
T.M. Opera O's embryonic [ZONE], that nascent realm she'd revealed at the Satsuki Sho, was already unstoppable among the first-year generation.
But Admire Vega wasn't unprepared.
She'd lost the Satsuki Sho precisely because of T.M. Opera O and Garden Gale's [ZONE]'s. Back then, it felt as if hellish shadows from Rashomon dragged her backward, distorting gravity, shackling her steps.
That defeat had sent her to train high on snowy mountains.
Why not the open plains?
Before answering that, one must first ask—what's on the mountains?
Altitude sickness, suffocation, crushing fatigue, freezing air—conditions utterly hostile to running. It wasn't exaggerating to say she might've died up there, lost to the mountain forever. Yet Admire Vega persevered, honing herself to adapt perfectly to that brutal environment.
This was precisely Admire Vega's intention:
To become resistant to ZONE's overwhelming pressure.
She didn't fully understand how T.M. Opera O and Garden Gale influenced others' speed, but she'd grown accustomed to it now. The debuff could no longer cripple her. Drawing a deep breath, she clenched her teeth, focusing every ounce of her willpower—the knife she'd sharpened alone through countless freezing nights.
Breathe.
Just keep breathing.
Thus, T.M. Opera O's greatest weapon, her incomplete [ZONE], had lost its bite. Its main impact now was to strengthen T.M. Opera O's own concentration—but even that stable mental boost no longer seemed sufficient.
Once again, T.M. Opera O failed to close the distance with Admire Vega.
Of course, this time she'd shortened it dramatically—from fifty or sixty meters down to just a fraction, nearly at Vega's heels. Yet still, she couldn't catch her, couldn't pass her.
Even activating her incomplete [ZONE] hadn't been enough.
T.M. Opera O's serenity cracked apart completely.
Replaced now by sheer astonishment.
Why had Admire Vega suddenly grown so strong?
It made absolutely no sense.
The only upside to Admire Vega's strategy was simplicity. She didn't need to think, merely run straight ahead. Even with her body burning in agony, exhaustion gripping every muscle, she never slowed.
Should she try again?
Should she try again? Again and again?
Questions spun endlessly. This made no sense—T.M. Opera O had already burst forward three separate times, yet never overtaken Admire Vega. The overwhelming frustration nearly crushed her spirit. Around her, the crowd's cheers turned fully toward Admire Vega.
The finish line—was now less than one-thousand meters away.
It's getting closer and closer.
The tension nearly suffocating.
Even Garden Gale's chance of winning seemed impossible now.
Symboli Rudolf watched, nerves tightening at the gap. The fight at the front had gone too far—could Garden Gale truly catch up in the end?
T.M. Opera O exhaled sharply once more.
Should she call Admire Vega her destined rival, after all?
She pondered silently.
...
Admire Vega ignored her body's screaming protests, stubbornly pushing forward, speed at her absolute limit.
The sounds behind her grew louder.
The chasing pack began accelerating.
Cheers from the stands echoed; birds scattered overhead; dirt sprayed beneath pounding hooves.
T.M. Opera O's hesitation vanished again—only to be replaced by countless new thoughts. She noticed everything around her, yet none of it led her to doubt herself.
An Overlord never doubted.
Greedily, she drew air into her lungs. The rush of oxygen clearing her mind felt sweeter than mountain spring water—she wanted more.
Her body melted into the surroundings, becoming one with everything, yet strangely detached from mundane existence.
Integration and transcendence, together.
T.M. Opera O reached out and touched the mirror. Its icy surface reflected everything clearly, sharpening her consciousness. One by one, unnecessary details vanished, leaving only her reflection staring back at her. Locking eyes with herself, T.M. Opera O affirmed her belief more clearly than ever:
She would beat Admire Vega.
From sensing everything to knowing only herself—from complexity to simplicity—
Mental entropy distilled into a single purpose, a pure goal, restoring perfect clarity.
Pressure—had carried T.M. Opera O to new heights.
Though it was only half a year into their first season, these fierce rivalries had laid a soaring path before her—a vast runway toward the heavens. Like muscles growing beautifully defined under intense training, pressure revealed the elegant lines of her running form.
Revealed for all the world to witness...
Her graceful, mesmerizing burst.
...
A decade had passed since Oguri Cap accomplished this feat.
Finally, another Umamusume entered the complete form of the [ZONE].
Elevating this Japan Derby to its ultimate climax.
...
"That's—!"
Mr. C.B. shot to her feet, shouting in disbelief, eyes fixed on the track.
A complete [ZONE].
No longer youthful, embryonic, or uncertain—this was the [ZONE] at its ultimate, perfected state. The apex of all Umamusume techniques, ranked above mere acceleration or ideal cornering lines. Not something ordinary talent could grasp.
A supreme state.
An absolute peak.
No one had imagined T.M. Opera O would complete the [ZONE] so quickly.
Even Oguri Cap took a while. Legends like Oguri Cap and Symboli Rudolf had only awakened their completed [ZONE]'s as older racers. T.M. Opera O's speed of completion was unprecedented, unmatched in past and future.
No other Umamusume had reached this stage so early.
Two monstrous prodigies had emerged this freshman season—
Garden Gale, who could mimic countless running styles.
T.M. Opera O, who now stepped into the [ZONE] itself.
Truly, this was the strongest generation since Oguri Cap.
Past champions—Narita Brian, Mayano Top Gun—had shone brightly, but this was different.
Weren't these two strong enough to dominate even in that golden era?
This Japan Derby seemed already decided.
The curtain was falling.
...
...
...
Was it already decided?
Watching T.M. Opera O step into the completed [ZONE], Symboli Rudolf smiled quietly.