The moment those words left Kazuto's mouth, Kyūsei felt the world around him blur—not because reality itself was collapsing beneath the pressure of the abyssal breach overhead, nor because the enormous hand descending from beyond the fractured heavens radiated enough power to crush the sanity of everyone witnessing it, but because a single sentence had just shattered something deep inside him that he had unconsciously convinced himself never needed to be questioned.
"When we died back there…"
Not I.
We.
For several seconds, Kyūsei could not breathe properly.
The roaring winds surrounding Kazuto faded into distant noise within his ears while fragments of old memories, buried beneath the chaos of reincarnation and survival, suddenly began resurfacing violently inside his mind like broken glass rising from dark water.
Rain.
Headlights.
A crowded intersection glowing beneath neon lights.
Someone shouting his name.
A hand grabbing his arm.
And then—
Pain.
Kyūsei staggered backward slightly, his heartbeat becoming uneven as those fragmented memories continued clawing their way back into his consciousness.
No.
Not possible.
Not Kazuto.
Not—
Hansuke.
The name surfaced instinctively.
And suddenly Kyūsei remembered.
Back on Earth, before loneliness had consumed most of his days, before exhaustion and disappointment had hollowed out his emotions into numb routine, there had been one person who stubbornly continued dragging him back into the world no matter how much he withdrew from it.
Hansuke.
Loud.
Annoying.
Always smiling too much.
Always involving himself in other people's problems even when nobody asked him to.
The kind of person Kyūsei had never understood.
And somehow trusted anyway.
The memories struck harder now.
Late-night convenience store trips after school.
Arguing over games.
Complaining about teachers.
Hansuke laughing loudly while walking beside him beneath crowded city lights.
Then the final memory surfaced.
Rain pouring endlessly from the sky.
A truck losing control.
Kyūsei frozen.
And Hansuke running toward him.
Not away.
Toward him.
The realization hit like a blade through the chest.
"…no," Kyūsei whispered weakly.
At the edge of the collapsing summit, Kazuto—no, Hansuke—stood beneath the fractured heavens while impossible amounts of compressed mana spiraled around his sword, the violent pressure distorting the atmosphere so severely that the surrounding air had begun splitting apart into visible currents of pale blue light.
Yet despite the apocalyptic scene surrounding him—
He still smiled the same way.
The same idiot smile from Earth.
Kyūsei's voice trembled.
"…Hansuke?"
Kazuto closed his eyes briefly.
Then sighed.
"…took you long enough."
The world inside Kyūsei shattered completely.
"You remembered?" he asked, his voice barely audible beneath the roaring winds. "You remembered this whole time?!"
Kazuto scratched the back of his neck awkwardly despite the horrifying energy gathering around him.
"…most of it."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MOST OF IT?!"
Even now.
Even while reality itself threatened to collapse around them.
They somehow sounded like two friends arguing again.
Kazuto laughed weakly, though exhaustion heavily strained the sound.
"I woke up earlier than you in this world," he admitted quietly. "A lot earlier."
Kyūsei stared at him in disbelief.
"How long…?"
"Years."
The answer struck harder than any physical wound.
Years.
For years Kazuto had remembered Earth.
Remembered him.
Remembered their deaths.
And yet had said nothing.
Kyūsei suddenly understood countless moments from the past months all at once.
Why Kazuto had trusted him so quickly.
Why he always looked at him strangely whenever Kyūsei talked about loneliness.
Why his smile sometimes carried hidden sadness Kyūsei could never fully understand.
Why he protected him with such terrifying desperation.
Because Kazuto already knew him.
Already cared about him.
Already mourned him once before.
Kyūsei felt anger and grief collide painfully inside his chest.
"You idiot…" he whispered shakily. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
Kazuto's expression softened slightly.
"Because you finally started smiling again."
The answer destroyed him.
For several seconds Kyūsei could not speak at all.
The roaring winds around the summit continued intensifying while the enormous hand descending from beyond the fractured heavens moved lower toward reality itself, causing the atmosphere throughout Valthorin to distort violently with each passing moment.
Yet none of it mattered to Kyūsei right now.
Only this.
Only him.
Kazuto looked upward again toward the abyssal sky while tightening his grip around the sword trembling in his hands.
"When you got sent here," he said quietly, "you looked lost all over again. Worse than before."
Kyūsei's throat tightened painfully.
"So I figured…" Kazuto continued with a faint smile, "…if I acted like some cool experienced adventurer, maybe things would feel easier."
"You are not cool."
"I'm incredibly cool."
"You almost died twenty times this week!"
"And survived every single one."
Kyūsei laughed despite himself.
Then immediately felt tears burning behind his eyes.
Damn him.
Even now.
Even during the apocalypse.
Still acting like this.
Below the summit, Lena and the others remained silent, clearly understanding now that something deeply personal was unfolding between the two boys standing beneath the collapsing heavens.
Even Mira looked away briefly.
As though giving them space.
Above them all, however, the abyss continued descending.
The colossal hand emerging through the breach had now crossed halfway into reality, and each movement of its enormous fingers caused violent tremors to spread across the entire valley. Space warped around it unnaturally while dark symbols burned across its pale skin like ancient seals older than human civilization itself.
The creature beneath the breach knelt suddenly.
Not injured.
Reverent.
Kyūsei's blood ran cold instantly.
The abyssal monster was bowing.
To whatever was coming through.
Kazuto noticed too.
"…yeah," he muttered while staring upward. "Definitely not something we should let enter completely."
Then the winds surrounding him exploded outward again.
The mana compression around his sword reached terrifying levels now, to the point where even looking directly at the blade caused pain behind Kyūsei's eyes. The surrounding atmosphere had become visibly distorted, thin fractures spreading through the air itself as the technique continued destabilizing reality around Kazuto's position.
And his body was failing.
Badly.
Blood now poured steadily from the cuts covering his skin.
His left hand trembled uncontrollably.
Even standing seemed difficult.
Kyūsei realized the horrifying truth instantly.
Kazuto was forcing out more power than his body could survive.
"No," Kyūsei said immediately while stumbling toward him. "No, we'll find another way."
Kazuto didn't answer.
"Kazuto."
Still silence.
"HANSUKE!"
Finally, Kazuto glanced back.
And Kyūsei saw it.
Fear.
Not fear of death.
Fear of failing.
"…if that thing enters this world," Kazuto said softly, "everyone dies."
The massive hand descended lower.
The heavens groaned violently.
And far beyond the fractures in reality, something enormous began opening its eyes.