Staring out across the skyline of Akihabara on the rooftop of his apartment, Okabe stood still in a fervor of contemplation, a breeze flicking his lab coat aside playfully.

'So is that a six, or an eight?'

'Probably won't work if its wrong anyway.'

A heavy weight sank into his gut from Daru's previously spoken words.

My god. This must truly be the butterfly effect. Even from such a minor detail, it changed all these things...

Astounding. This is exemplary of what happens when you make automatic assumptions with a force as mighty as time... Not that we could have known beforehand. Who's to say if it would have worked in the opposite manner with the opposite number anyway? The possibilities and variables are unfathomably infinite. The IBN 5100 reappearing, Moeka gone... And Ruka. The original reason for reverting the D-mail, and it didn't even take place as intended. She's still a girl despite our direct attempt to negate that.

What else could have changed? The potential stretches even beyond my astute fathoming. Have we crossed the one-percent threshold? I don't even have the divergence meter to know, but if things have changed so drastically... There is a limited possibility.

If Moeka has truly vanished from our local dimension, has she ceased to exist? Is she still present in the universe and still looking for the 5100? Is she even related to SERN and the rounders on this world line? Do I wait to see if Mayuri... No. Not that again. But how am I to know? The plan was to revert all D-mails sent to cross the one-percent barrier, but I don't even know where we stand as far as this world line. How far have we skewed from the old Alpha timeline by this point?

The IBN 5100 ended up at the shrine as intended, so that must mean Suzuha was successful in this timeline, and had direct influence on passing it down. That scenario still played out to its end, and now we have it in the lab's possession again. So what happens to the extent of us deleting our connection from SERN's database? Would that skew the divergence percentage even further and cross the barrier if we haven't already?

Perhaps. We could surmise that doing so could be an extra measure. As soon as we cut our link to SERN, they have no lead and no further information. In theory that would circumvent being visited by the rounder thugs, especially in consideration of Moeka currently out of known existence. There would be no certifiable reasoning for it.

If that holds true, will Mayuri survive, or will the universe still step in with its intervention? I suppose I am forced to wait and see to know... Which means we should keep the phone-wave functional as a backup in the meantime. That will be the ultimate proof of whether we've crossed the divergence barrier or not.

Reaching up to the pocket of his lab coat, he withdrew the ever-present pen from it, twisting it in his fingers.

Such a minor discrepancy. A miswritten number on a sheet of paper. We all took a leap of faith, making unassuming educated guesses. Pretending everything will revert exactly to a previous state. Aware of the infinite possibilities, and still so blithely ignoring the related implications. Now here we are, having stumbled our way into another dimensional existence of time. I see the differences, while everything else is normal. Business as usual to seven billion other people.

There must be some kind of complex irony in this. I'm no sorcerer's apprentice, but I've been tinkering with the constraints of time and space and wandering through existential dimensions. I remember so many scenarios and differences in continuity, retaining limited scopes of them... Captive in a bizarre theater inside my mind, replaying confusingly different versions of a week of my life. How long will it go on? With age and decaying memory, will it disappear? Or will it turn into a turmoil of confusion I can't even make sense of in my old age?

A long sigh seeped from his lungs, fingers gripping the pen in his hands as his eyes panned across the horizon.

Such is the life and torture of a mad scientist... Defying the universe in a defiant, perpetual search of knowledge, no matter the cost of sanity and being.

Now I can only wonder now what the future will bring upon us all.

"So you're telling me, after all my efforts of hacking into the top secret database of SERN, that doing so will result in a dystopian future with most of us dead."

"In essence... Yes. I've leaped back dozens of times trying to prevent Mayuri's death... Fruitlessly. Every time we've gone back and undone a D-mail our lab members have sent, however, its brought us further away from that future, and further delayed Mayuri's demise."

"So now you want me to delete the information on us and sever our link to the database, in hopes that we save the world, and Mayushii."

"Precisely."

"It is a bit concerning that SERN has files with information on us. They must be aware of our administrative link to their server."

Looking towards Kurisu from her statement, Daru bit his lip.

"Yeah, that's a bit worrying. Having intel kept on me does not create warm and fuzzy feelings inside. The future saving part is interesting though, but I don't feel good about the whole being dead part. That's a pretty serious claim to make."

"I wouldn't lie about something that threatens our lives. With all I've learned in this mess, undoing prior D-mails... If we remove evidence of our activities with the phone wave and time travel, we should secure a better chance at keeping her, and everybody else safe."

Mulling over the limitless possibilities of a future doom, Daru's eyes narrowed at Okabe.

"Alright. If it makes you feel better, I'll wipe their files clean, trash the account, and terminate the connection. But you owe me big for doing all this, only to delete it later."

"Whatever you wish, Daru. We're in the midst of altering the future yet again. It will be worthwhile, I assure you."

"Better be. Hacking into a high echelon database was no easy task."

"Yes, but keep in mind, Hack, who was it that provided you access with a museum piece of computing technology?"

"Touche, Okarin. Not every computing guru gets his paws on an IBN 5100 and tweaks it to usable specs... You still owe me, to a lesser extent."

"Deal."

Sitting down upon the couch next to Makise, Okabe put his arms behind his head.

"Okabe."

Eyebrow rising, he looked at her, but her face showed obvious unease.

"Have you really... Watched Mayuri die over and over?"

His heart sank.

"I've lost count of how many times... Numerous ways as well."

Staring at him as his eyes closed, she sighed heavily.

"That must have been horrible."

"I'm not even positive she'll make it tonight. But with Moeka and the 5100 and Ruka... There's a chance things are different enough."

Daru's hands halted upon the keyboard.

"Wait. Are you saying Mayushii might die tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping that the last D-mail we sent, where I jumped into this world line, will have changed things enough."

Both lab members stared at Okabe.

"What can we do to prevent it?"

"I don't know. All I remember from the past, is that at seven p.m., on the dot, something happens to end her life."

All three eyes went to the clock, displaying 6:45.

"In fifteen minutes?"

"Oh my god Okabe, where the hell is she?!"

Shaking his head, he looked down at the floor with familiar grief.

"She's with Ruka. Shopping for cosplay. At least that's different from last time."

Sitting captive, thoroughly alarmed, Kurisu's eyes lowered to the magazine in her hands.

"Are you just going to sit here and wait?"

"I don't know what else to do. She never answers her phone before it happens."

Instantly bringing her phone from her pocket in response, Kurisu dialed her number, and Okabe held his breath from the dial tone faintly audible.

Held in a grip of silence, all three individuals sat still, listening.

Please answer, Mayuri. I don't want to deal with this again.

After several rings, Okabe's throat tightened from the automated voice response.

Coincidence, surely.

"Hey Mayuri, Kurisu here. Just wanted to check in, we're all waiting back here at the lab for you. Talk to you soon."

Ending the voicemail message, Makise's hand slowly sank to her lap, trying to retain her composure.

"Look, she's just busy. Or her phone is silent, or dead, or something. She'll show up soon."

Turning back to the computer, Daru stared at the groups of folders open on screen.

Man, the hell if I'm letting SERN get to me like this. No evil organizations are taking away my friends and my future...

Cracking his knuckles, he resumed typing in a fury of determination.

Deleting is far faster than creating. I'm going to wipe your precious shit off the face of the internet, SERN.