Muv-Luv Reversal

by Zuoriel

Takeru has been leading a normal life until now. During the summer vacation of his second year in college he's invited by his high school friends to meet up again, to which he agrees. Shirogane doesn't know that this decision would release the nightmares that have been haunting him for some time, nightmares that would be better left forgotten.

76. Iceberg of the Soul (II)

A/N: I'm not going to bore you with what's going on IRL on this side of the monitor, so I'll cut to the point. One half of me says that to continue posting would be a bad call, that the warning is hanging from the wall, that it's courting controversy, but instead I'll be open with what's ahead. I fear the rest of this story will come out as demonizing the Japanese, as it will go counter to the strong views displayed both in our world by the old Empire of Japan and the mirror that those beliefs have in Muv-Luv's Japan.

I don't think my writing skill can do justice to such topics in a neutral light, so I want to make it clear that I do not hate the Japanese or their culture. If someone wants to criticize this particular aspect of the story, please do point me to either books, sources, or personal experiences that could help paint a less dark picture, to not fall to stereotypes or any possible prejudice on my end.

I do understand that a flithy gaijin writing of these topics will feel insulting, that perhaps people will get heated about it, and you're free to think I'm toxic or that this story is a piece of shit, you're equally free to simply turn around and ignore this fic. Don't start spamming hate to me or the other commenters. To whatever readers remain, do not engage in debates in the comments. Let people say whatever they want, and ignore the obvious trolls fishing for drama.

This fear of getting bombarded by hate, along other stuff IRL, is what mainly made me want to just delete everything, to avoid becoming more stressed over how to portray this properly, how not to make people angry, and it sucked all the enjoyment out of writing for me.

I do appreciate the honesty though, so if what you read from now on pulls you out of the story and you feel like saying your piece, don't hesitate so long as you're polite about it. Editing and a general lack of time have kind of desensitized me to the contents of this particular chapter, so I admit I might have gone too far with certain stuff.

WARNING: This entry goes deep into the dark and has graphics descriptions of violence, mental anguish, and other disturbing shit, and it's also really long. Due to both the explicit content and the rawness of the material, I've decided to not screw around with any possible triggers so I'll point you back to the list of warnings that are in the first chapter, most of them apply for this entry.

I know my takes aren't as 'based' as many would like for a fanfic that follows the masterpiece that is the trilogy, but I do think some of the most gruesome moments of this chapter can still hit badly despite my lacking skill.

While it isn't enough to send me away from the screen, previous reactions from readers about other similar dark moments, namely the original rendition of chapter 46 and the nurse's scene, make me believe I might have gone too far this time and thus it's necessary to put this large warning here. It's not DEA or RK or MIA levels of cursed, but maybe enough to upset a few sensibilities. I haven't been enjoying the best days over here, and I'm sure my strong negative vibe will permeate all of this chapter.

If I was wrong and the content did not deserve the trigger warning, do let me know. I may be trying to overcompensate here.

Well, enough tangents. I know what lays down there is not enjoyable in the slightest, so tread carefully. As one last suggestion, I recommend reading this entry while listening to the song 'Labyrinth VI' from Etrian Odyssey 3: The Drowned City.

Thanks for reading. Keep staying safe.

Zuoriel

---

"In the days before, many moons ago, decay came to infest

The path of the wise, the stream to glory

Even those anointed in honor long ago now oppose wordlessly, seal the way forward

Shrouded in hazy dreams, sealed they remain

Those golden chrysanthemums, the choirs of EDEN

Even a mere prayer is denied to you,

pushed always forward by the indifference of time

Can you hear it, that silent whisper that seeks you?

Will you then reach out for it, grasping at the void?

Will you then cross this filthy stream for it, willingly bring its water to your lips?

Be wrath incarnate, Indra!

Fierce enough to melt away the soil!

Embrace thus the dark child who swings at nothingness, lost in rage

Be a rampart, Indra!

A refuge for this, oh, ignorant child

Clear all signs of fire; allow calmness to come forth."

INDRA, by Susumu Hirasawa. Sword of the Berserk: Guts' Rage (Dreamcast).

---

Chapter 76:

Iceberg of the Soul - Shadows

---

Date and Time Unknown.

(In the middle of a twisting wasteland filled with broken buildings and debris.)

[Kasumi]

---

"So you were sent to a very snowy mountain?" I ask, sidestepping over the bolt-like shapes of the cracks in the asphalt, from where dried up weeds come out.

"Yes, it was truly a bother," he sighs, again, walking as slowly as his voice through the sinking and rising parts of the broken street. "I didn't mind the permission to train a year ahead, but I really wanted to go to that release."

"Was that book truly so interesting?"

"Yeah, it was. It shows that a warrior's sharpest tool are its wits, not its sword. A friend even told me there was a reference to Lethal Combat somewhere in the story, too."

"…Lethal Combat?"

"Oh, another LitRPG series of books, focused more on the PvP aspect of roleplay. Basically, just a fighting game," he says with a slow shrug, coughing and covering his mouth as we pass a few broken cars, oil and rust filling the air.

"I see… Um, do you remember playing fighting games on a television?"

He raises a brow, his steps waning. Standing still at the edge of a shadow, his fingers absentmindedly play with the dragons as he looks up to the tilted and broken buildings that are half-sunk into the wasteland. "Hmm… It kind of feels like that should have been a thing but…"

"You can't clearly remember?"

"No, like, I think I did… but I don't remember having done that with the Pickles or my friends after changing schools," he nods back at me, taking a second to douse the complains of the red kitty. "Back when everything was fine."

After a sigh his aura once more grows blue, a curtain veiling part of his delayed, almost apathetic gestures. We remain quiet as we walk through the cracked asphalt, under the swirling clouds, bent lightposts and cars decorating the soil with their impregnable shadows. Only eventual twitches of the lights above grant us momentary visibility, which isn't particularly welcome in my case. The erratic pattern somehow turns the surroundings creepier, making the shadows flicker.

It also serves as a gateway to those days of the invasion. Hands which cling to portrays, the shattered glass of the frame sticking to the skin. Bowls broken in half, packs of rations for which my hands are too large scattered through the abandonment of cars and asphalt. The once shining parks I saw moments ago, deserted and quiet, clouds of flies covering their expansion.

And many, many stuffed toys left behind. Some merely left by the road, others ripped apart, a few stuck under the rubble. Observing the area, the lightposts nearby decide to flicker to life. As illumination feeds clarity upon the destruction nearby, my feet suddenly stop, mouth hollowing all air out. The light lasts a second before it again fades, yet I couldn't take my eyes off the tiny, tiny hand that was still clinging to the arm a the stuffed animal, despite not being connected to anything, despite the white beneath the muscle tissue being clearly visible, despite looking like a tightly wrung-out towel as it clings onto that tiny, tiny stuffed toy.

…I tend to forget, how cruel reality can be, how blessed I am to be in the Professor's care, to have Takeru-san by me. And how odd it is, that now I feel my throat wringing, my lips retreating at such sights as opposed to the frozen indifference that lingered in me before. Watching his back, his gaze was locked in other signs of disaster, not showing hints or tells, except for the apathetic drag of his feet. Almost limping, merely walking forward.

The road ends and returns to dust, large craters having blasted the street apart. Hopping back onto the dry soil, buildings arched downwards like some sort of horns, as if sinking into an antlion's den, loom over us both as we keep on walking in silence. The lingering smell of something burnt is strong, dwelling deeply in area, which makes my tongue stick to the back of my teeth at times. And yet, despite the rugged and jagged surfaces we traverse in the irregular terrain, the sole of my shoes does not hurt in the slightest. Not even the little animals show signs of exhaustion, despite their occasional wails for attention to try and bring some cheer to his grayed out complexion.

"Um…"

"Yes?" He asks, not even moving his eyes to acknowledge me.

"So, um, you stopped living in your house since you started studying to become an Imperial Guard?"

"No, I still went back to Hiiragi every weekend, when I didn't have any studies to take care of," he says, shoulders sagging. Lips retracting, gaze focused and unmoving from the ground, slowly dodging elevations and sinkholes, always looking back to help me and the puppies with our steps.

He pulls me upwards as I stomp on a broken and rusted hood, leaning on him as we again reach even terrain. "…But you did manage to become an Imperial Guard. So you passed the test at the mountain?"

"Eh? Ah, yeah. Me and… both cousins managed to be given the approval the same time, more or less," he whispers, gently releasing my fingers, looking forward at the never-changing scenery as light flickers from above again.

Why is he not saying 'Pickles'? Is this Takeru-san upset at them? His aura is… still locked onto that same blue hue. "Um, did you have any issues with the training, perhaps? Something you didn't agree with?"

A minute lowering of his eyelids, he then shakes his head. "…No, not really. I could pass the combat exercise, even if barely, and the written aptitude exams were hard, not gonna lie, but they weren't impossible. Back then, I didn't have any complains, everything seemed clear."

"Clear how?"

"It was all black and white, a world of zeroes and ones. This is good, this is bad, I have to do this, I don't have to do that. Simple stuff, simpler times. Before…" he grimaces, standing still as he waits for me to catch up, his eyes locked on the cloudy skyline under the momentary illumination, "the war teared those words apart."

A small flash of red, a faint mist of black surging from his heart. It makes me shiver, my neck closing as if someone were pressing a hand onto it. "Um… Did you have a confrontation with someone?"

"No, that's not it. Sigh…" shrugging, he chuckles dryly, voice lowering further, "I always get in trouble, thanks to not knowing how to shut up. But it's… kind of like this wasteland, the problem I have," he looks forward, pacing through the dust in the air while wrapping both kitties and the tuna with an arm, both dragons clinging to him, yet their bumps onto his chin or the nibbling to his fingers or ears does not change his composed and neutral expression.

"What do you mean? Do you feel alone in your endeavors?" I ask as I follow, placing a hand on the bunny on my head as I balance my weight on an iron beam, seeking his hand for support.

Which he extends, pulling me to cross the gap as my feet hesitate, when I catch a glimpse of small books, picture books, that were at the bottom of the hole, along the remains, scattered remains, of their owners. Patting my shoulder while I replenish air as my feet hit stable ground, he simply waits.

"It's kind of how you must be feeling right now. You can't really compute what's around, something should be changing soon, right?" Another sigh, heavier, as his aura thickens in blue. "But no matter how much I walk, how much effort I put in my work, nothing ever changes. There's no light at the end of the tunnel, and all this gloom and doom are just, you know, starting to stick," he sighs, kicking the air, hugging the dragons. "And when this scenery loses impact and it becomes routine… it just gets harder to do anything, to find a reason to get out of bed. Get what I mean?"

"I suppose. War can certainly… dull the heart to allow one to survive."

As I've been living, taking everything I was told as the norm, never expecting anything other than what I was given. Until you and Sumika-san came into my life, as it was before the invasion with the Professor to an extent.

"Is this wasteland always like this for you, Takeru-san?" I ask, fingers twitching, hesitating for a second before grabbing his hand again, absence of heat permeating it.

He blinks a few times, the edges of his lips moving ever so subtly before he gives another gradual nod. "Yeah, I guess. There's really not much here other than wreckage and destruction, and nothing to be done about it."

"Do you have any idea why you dream of this? Isn't there even one small glimmer of hope left for you?" I ask, walking closer to him, shivering a bit as his aura enters in contact with mine, a chill into my arms.

"Hope, huh," he looks down, sighing yet again. "After so many salvage missions, it kind of gets ingrained into you, this scenery. It's always the same, there are a few parts that can be recovered but the rest…" he suddenly stops walking, lips twisting in, throat folding down. I follow his gaze, finding a torn plush toy with its filling leaking and sprinkled with red, buried under two masses of bones and flesh pressed together by a falling boulder. "…The rest is always the same shit," he whispers, petting my head slowly as he brings me to his chest, shielding my sight from the cruel visage.

And for a moment, I merely cling onto the somber and quiet blue, feeling it seep into me with its stillness as the rabbit on my head and the dragons ruffle my hair at times. A pat or two on my back, they aid my breathing to return to normal. Slow steps he starts to take, and I follow. A small moment of walking in silence and darkness, I cough and slowly pull away from his gentle grip.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asks, rubbing the back of my head.

"Yes, I'm alright… Do not worry, I am rather used to… such crude images. I can't really avoid them, after all." No matter how hard I try, merely walking is enough to hear or see these cruelties at times, even if it isn't as normal as it was two years ago.

He pets my head, softly nibbling at his bottom lip, sinking further in blue. "Sigh… You really don't have to come with, bunny girl."

"No, I… cough… I said I would keep you company. I… I do know war can cause such cruelty."

It's like all the blurred flashes I've seen in the hallways, the frail but intense memories of anguish of the soldiers marching about, the losses of the Valkyries, the pain of the poor Instructor. But, to see it with such clarity, to feel the putrid stench corrode my lips, to hear the screeches of the flies, what once was brimming with life imploding in decay despite this place being a dreamscape…

"U-Um, Takeru-san, is it really always like that during your missions?"

Shaking his head, sighing short yet deep, he hunches over again as the dragons cry out and lightly hit his chin, as both puppies whimper. "Sometimes it's worse. Sometimes we find all the pieces, scattered everywhere, flies dancing over 'em. Other times…" biting his lips, he looks away, "we find them still alive. And all we can do is spare them the pain, and nothing else. Nothing else…"

He grabs my hand and we walk again, under the rows and rows of wreckage, the rows and rows of rusted TSF parts, of what truly resembles a wolf's maw. And yet, despite a few cracks in the colors, Takeru-san remains marching forward, his sight locked onto the far off horizon as the buildings grow closer, our pathway narrow under the flickering lightposts and howling wind.

Never wavering, never reacting. Slow but constant like the tickling of a clock, yet darkening a little more every second. Just like the moonlight that accompanies us, despite a few thickets of clouds blocking the upper and lower parts of the moon as of now.

Pursing my lips, gripping his hand as the puppies look up at me and softly whimper, I bump my shoulder with his, enduring the prickling of cold blue on my nape. "But… But you did manage to save some people, right? The war was horrible, but your efforts weren't pointless."

"…Save?" A stutter in his voice, a ripple in the ice, heaviness at the pit of my stomach as dark fog covers him for a moment.

"U-Um, is something the matter?"

"…I guess, yeah," he barely whispers, now dragging his feet and making the puppies bark a bit as they gain a sudden lead on us. He sighs again, extending his free hand to tend to the showy complains of the purple doggy, then softly scratching the ears of the patient blue puppy. "I guess… I guess we managed to save a few, just a few."

"Are you displeased in your position in the IRG?" I look into his eyes, giving a squeeze to his hand as he raises back up.

He merely shrugs, leaning his chin onto the kitties that play with his scarf. "I'm not upset or anything. I get that there ain't much else we can do. It's just…"

"That you don't agree with their methods?"

"No, that's not it. It's that, well, I believe small gestures of kindness can do much for us in the long run," gradually coming to a halt, he looks up at the crashing clouds as the wind howls again, the light leaving his features as his complexions softens, "but no one seems to even care anymore."

Despite being covering my eyes to avoid the dust and the strong scents, his aura tells a gash is once more open, in his face and heart. Taking in a deep but short breath, I once more look up into his eyes, that are still scouring the pitch-dark cloak of the clouds above while petting the white bunny. Only to see him grimacing.

"I used to think that day was just an accident… but it turns out that was how we always did things."

"That day?"

He doesn't reply, starting to walk again into the closed-off pathway in between the buildings. The animals stall the motions before following, and I have to jog lightly to reach his side again. As I do however, the burning scent grows stronger, enough to make me cough. Upon opening my eyes, a circling wave of yellow and orange covers my sight.

Pillars set alight, hazy. Petals scattering into a whirlwind of flames, fading to ashes. The heat crawling all over a building, stitched screams echo close by.

"W-What is… Where-"

"I thought this was just an accident," he whispers, eyelids almost closing, fingers slowly treading the fur of the animals. He crouches, hugging both puppies as they start to cry and wail louder and louder.

The stampede of smoke rushes out of the woodwork, winged flames erupt from within the windows in much violence, creating a shower of glass in the periphery. A large house built in the old ways of the Empire burns, not even this garden seems safe from the heat as the rows of ovals with flower offerings are made to endure the falling sparks. Specters of shadow rush through some hallways, some falling, others screaming, yet all stumble and collapse within the smoke.

"What is this? Just what- How did such a thing happen?"

"I told you, I thought this was an accident," he says, and I see him give a faint kiss to both puppies as he lifts both and covers the animals with his long scarf. Both dogs in his arms, the dragons clinging to the inner part of them, both kitties rustling on his shoulder along the tuna, all of them taking shelter in the scarf. Only the white bunny refuses his offer, thumping and insisting on remaining on his head, as does the one above mine. "What you see here is when terrorists attacked the Main House one day, outta nowhere. Or at least what this nightmare twisted it into," he admits, shifting his arms to ensure none of them fell, starting to arch his back at the weight.

"Eh?! Terrorists? When… Wait, did this happen in 1997?"

"Huh? How did you know?"

"Well… A weird agent once came asking for a favor to someone I know, saying they needed help with an unfortunate incident." My scanning ability's help, to be more precise. It was truly the first time I lamented being born with such powers, when the Professor taught me what the words 'disgust' and 'repulsion' meant.

"I see… Well, yeah, this happened back then. And as you can see, it was pure chaos."

"Did… someone you like died during this incident?"

"Thankfully, no. But many good fellows did, and a lot more got badly hurt or got severe burns somewhere. But even then…" he grimaces again, shaking his head as he enforces his embrace, Takeru-san then walks forward while using himself as a shield, crossing through the smoke and flames.

"Takeru-san, please wait! The fire is- Cough! Cough!" Unable to endure the slamming impact of the heat on my features, my feet retreat as I cover my mouth.

Yet, he keeps on moving through the rows of flowers, the rows of burning flowers and into the building. Hesitating at first, until the bunny atop me groaned and thumped, I follow after him through what little space we have. The lack of air lasts a moment, the fire seems to be concentrated in isolated areas unlike the all-encompassing smoke which roams freely through the hallways. A flood of rotting flames, is how the place looks from within, heralded by the stream of dark clouds. That, or this is how his mind remembers this incident. Walking for a moment, descending to a mere step at a time, I end up finding him amidst the current of smoke, coughing as a wall of fire covers the path forward.

"Takeru-san! We should-cough… We have to get out of here!"

"…There's no point in going back."

"Huh?"

"Even if you close your eyes, what's around you won't simply disappear," he rasps, his hold over the animals tightening. For a moment, incineration which would leave the one around us paling shone within his eyes, a brunt stroke of dark in his aura. "There's only one way out of this nightmare, forward. Even if… there's nothing we can do…" he sighs, taking a few steps back and taking another hallway, away from the smoke.

With every step I take, my palpitations rise through my throat. "But you might get hurt."

"…And nothing of value will be lost."

"W-What? Don't say that, please! You're- Cough! Cough!" The reflex seems to remain in place, until I feel his presence pull me away from the clogging clouds. Taking in a sharp breath of heat, I look up into his eyes, his downcast eyes as the white bunny seems to groan and thump. "You should never say something like that."

"It's just the truth, bunny girl," he sighs, again, while wiping the sweat off his face, panting for a moment before turning and walking once more through hallways with walls falling to fire.

"Why? You're always- You're so… Why would you say something so cruel about yourself?"

He stops walking, shoulders sagging. "…You asked me before if I had saved anyone, but every time something happens… no one can rely on me."

"Why? You're… You're always so bright, and are always trying your best… And anyways, what could you do during an incident such as this? If the authorities didn't see it coming then-"

"That's kind of the point," he says, shifting his hold on the animals, making sure they didn't slip through his arms, faint wails coming from under the tattered scarf. "I used to think we got caught with our guard down, that because no one saw it coming things escalated to this point, to the hell you see now."

"Then, what is causing you to deride yourself? An individual cannot be held accountable over such turns of events, much less if you were not holding any authority." With every step closer, the scent of gunpowder strengthens along small sobs, faint crying.

"That every time, every single time, it's always the same answer," he whispers, hanging his head, softly biting his lips. "I can do nothing to help, before or after the fact. And… I hate that about myself."

A sudden gust of wind invigorates the flames, raising beyond the ceiling, sending the heat towards us. After a moment of burning, of veiling my sight, the pain soon fades away, replaced by sharp groans, muffled groans. Opening my eyes, I'm met with darkness and a soft feeling near my nose.

"T-Takeru-san!" He had shielded me from most of it, now groaning in pain before he falls to his knees, features twisting.

As I look around, the walls seemed to have melted away into pure blazes. Rushing through our sides as if they were the rapids of a river, like trains blasting past a station, the yellow and orange light blurs and sizzles by our sides. In the middle of the two ramparts of fire, a small hallway was left for us to walk through.

Takeru-san remains gritting his teeth and groaning as smoke slowly raises from his back, parts of his dress darkened further. My hands flinches away when I try to touch his shoulder, and the animals start to lick at his face or hair, whimpering until the pain seems to leave his features. A thump on my head, I gulp and try to pat his shoulders, offer some respite. Merely touching the fabric is enough to send a quiver through my skin, wanting to release the grip.

"Shouldn't you take off your dress, Takeru-san? You might get burned." Even if this is nothing but a dreamscape, there's no need for you to suffer needlessly.

"N-No, I'm okay, it's fine… I'm used to this… haa… haa…" He slowly raises up, a hand resting on his shaky knee, his complexion wavering as he refuses my hand of support, still gasping.

"Are you certain that we should keep going? You're truly going to end up hurt."

"Yeah…" And slowly, he starts to walk again through the narrow space left to us by the flowing fire walls.

"You won't turn back?"

"There's nothing to do back there, you saw how my house was left. This place, too, is nothing but another stop on the never ending conga line of shit that plagues my dreams."

"But there has to be another- cough… Do you truly have to subject yourself to this torture?" Your dress is blackening further, there's smoke still coming off it as if you were garbed in incense.

"At this point… Heh, it's almost like just another Wednesday," he dryly chuckles, the coarse coughing claiming his throat afterwards, then turning into mournful grinding of teeth which spur further complains from all animals.

"S-So…" considering the change in scenery happened as we talked, perhaps, "was the resolution of this incident something that happened again during the invasion?" Is that why he's so conflicted, so determined to keep moving forward despite the state of this place?

"Every time something goes wrong, it's always the same answer. Just like when-" He suddenly stops walking, his upper body quivering oddly.

Reaching his side, I immediately flinch away. A pond of red that enlarges every so often, pink strands of hair falling into it. A completely slouched, slumped body, features fixed as if a statue it were. The kitty wails, jumping down from Takeru-san's shoulder and rushing towards the limp body, licking the face of the woman, biting her fingers, looking back at us and wailing, wailing.

"Takeru-san, who is… What happened here?"

His lips quiver, stalling an answer before he closes, wrings his eyes shut. "As the attack started, I was with Maya-nee and the cousins, preparing for some duels we were going to have with other heirs. We split up, to cover more ground and alert those in charge, but it wasn't a single group that had infiltrated the House or protesters forcing their way through the main gate," his chin folds inwards, elbows sinking into his sides, breathing picking up speed, short and shallow. "Gun shots everywhere, the smoke raising, everything just came and went in a blur, everything's so fuzzy. But as we were moving towards Yuuhi's room, we ran into some intruders holding hostages. Maya-nee and her group disposed of them… b-but it was too late."

Swirling smoke roves around us, rising to conquer the ceiling. Small flickers of yellow spark up, gunshots reverberate almost by my side. Holding his shaking hands, his cold hands, only serves to enhance the echoes of the screams, of the gunshots, of the burning wood, and I can only grit my teeth to endure the unrelenting sounds. And as the pink kitty nuzzles itself against the slack features of the deceased, everything sinks into place. And it leaves a vacuum in my stomach.

"…Takeru, take the daughter to the central hall right this instant," a sharp and imposing voice so tells, and through his hand I feel the quiver over his entire body.

"I used to think," he whispers as he steps, as he hesitates towards the corpse, "we merely didn't have time that day, that we weren't ready for this fucked up shit happening," he crouches, and that shaky hand closes the eyelids of the woman despite the bite of the pink kitty that he then embraces. "That everything would be fixed as swiftly as this incident, and that that's all it was. A cruel accident no one could see coming. But it seems I've always been in the wrong."

My feet barely lift from the floor before they stop, lips clamping shut as if walking through the thicket of smoke once again. Screams reach the back of my head, crying out for the woman, claiming she is not yet dead, asking why no one would help her mother. Unable to breath in, to even gulp, I can only remain still as I place a hand on his shoulder, shuddering at the sizzling heat that surrounds us, as the walls seem to inch closer.

"This… wasn't your fault, Takeru-san," I say, both puppies barking in agreement and huddling closer to him, licking his swollen fingers.

"But I still did nothing."

"H-However, what could you-"

"If you do nothing, if you achieve nothing… then, you're pointless," he whispers, still rubbing the head of the pink kitty which seems to want to curl into invisibility before hiding under his red scarf. "And it's always the same. Every time something goes wrong, instead of trying to come up with different solutions, it's always the same. Just leave them behind, anyone who can no longer go on already exhausted their potential. Always the same shit, and I never can do anything."

Following after the slouched shape, the fire eventually gives up and the hallways return to a normal form, despite the smell not leaving us. Finding a large door, we end up in a vast hall filled to the brim with wounded people and hurrying guards. Screaming plummeting down to my ears, empty medkits lying on the ground, bags and bags overflowing with bandages dampened red. Suffering, so much suffering.

"Not enough supplies, it's important to prioritize them to those who contribute more value," he spits, beginning to frown, his aura solidifying and sending shivers down my spine as he holds my hand tight when stepping forward. "And there's nothing you can do, more than offer them company in their pain before the end comes," he then sighs again, marching through the distorted place, the bodies that crumble to sand or ash, teeth gritting in imitation of an industrial press at the treatment of unresponsive limbs.

Holding his wrist, almost slipping on our march, my lips quiver as I take deep breaths, the mixed scent of both medication and burnt material bringing an awful taste to my mouth, making my tongue regress into my throat.

"But the terrorists were repelled, right?"

"Yeah. Doesn't make the treatment the wounded received any better."

"Yet, one cannot-"

"Foresee all accidents nor avoid death during battle, I know. I know some 'elite' squadrons should get priority access to the supplies, but," his lips twist downwards as he looks back.

At the twisted bodies, at the cocoon of bandages that shield the burning skin, at the splatters of red, at the hands that rummage, and dive, and thrash, and seek something within medkits and suitcases yet only grasp air, or their own hair in frustration.

"Is this really all we can do? Just throw people in an open room, jammed like fish in a barrel? Sigh…"

…Why? I thought he'd be angry, but his aura remains so blue. I don't even feel any of the usual gale he shows when arguing with the Professor. "You said you thought this…" gulping hard, I look away from the spiraling bodies and furniture, the liquid feeling covering my ankles, "was just an accident. Did another incident resembling this happen again?"

"All the damn time."

We reach the end of the hall, he opens the door and a small garden greets our sight. Growing to a stop, he turns around and presses part of his scarf on my face, cleaning it slowly then petting my back as I take in air. Breathing in deeply once again, exhaling as the echoes recede and stop tailing us, the tension leaves me as he pats my head. The animals are all unhurt, save for the pink kitty which remains hidden under the scarf, unmoving. As he rubs his arms, dusting the burnt parts of his dress, I spot two shapes nearby. Wait, that's…

"And this, too," he says, hunching over, hugging the animals, running his fingers over them in search of burns or injuries. "There's always the scapegoats."

A little girl with pink hair remains shaking, crying, not lifting her face as her father tries to look into her eyes. The erratic breathing does not stop as he embraces her and joins in the weeping, she continues to apologize in whispers without even blinking, without the shaking stopping.

"I know I'm the idiot here, but it really pissed me off, seeing this kind of thing."

"Huh? It doesn't upset you anymore?"

"…I guess I just don't expect anything out of my superiors anymore."

Looking back for a moment, that crying girl is definitely one of his squadmates. Yet, it would seem she doesn't recall having met this world's Takeru-san, perhaps due to the trauma of the situation. The building which melts like wax to the crawling fire is now unrecognizable from its prior shape, leaving only the flowers nearby safe. Truly fading to nothingness as his home was before we started walking.

And yet, despite the sickness, almost losing balance, what I felt in there… was only sadness and grief, what one would expect of anyone faced by such an event. Such a horrible thing… so much fire, so much pain, everyone was still grayed out so I couldn't hear anything, thankfully, but still, I know what it must have sounded, felt like. Burns which expand over the skin like the first rays of sunlight at dawn, unceasing beating in the chest while rushing, rebounding off one patient to the other, wanting to tear one's scalp apart as no amount of searching meets the right solution within the spareness of the medkits. As if looking up at open sea for directions, yet no stars were shining above.

I do tend to forget, how precarious the situation was during the invasion, how miraculous it was that Lucifer succeeded.

A hand on my hair, coldness which roves all over my cheek, a pair of eyes scan me. "Are you alright? You didn't get burned or anything?"

"Ah, no, I'm unhurt."

"You don't look fine, why are you hugging your shoulders so tightly?" He asks, slowly placing his hand on my shoulder.

"I was… thinking, is all. What of you? Are you not in pain, after almost being burned?"

"I'm fine. You can't die in your dreams, bunny girl."

"…But if you're conscious about this being a dream, why can you not wake up?"

"I dunno. It's just how it is, I guess. You can turn your brain off, but you still gotta do the grind. Maybe I'm just coping while sleeping."

You seem… oddly composed for someone so young going through so much cruelty. Perhaps, he truly is merely coping by brandishing a stoic facade. But all of those people, that poor woman in the hallway… A focus on individual suffering can fog your vision. Those who cannot thrive against the indifference of the flow of events are to be disregarded. I know you employ such mantras whenever I tend to hesitate. I know there is little to be done after the fact, that letting guilt become your main source of fuel is only detrimental to one's growth. Yet, amidst such savagery, is such a compressed graveyard the only possible outcome, Professor?

"Tragedy creates opportunity, fear numbs the mind and tames the heart. Only by remaining composed in the face of such approaches will these tactics lose their intended effect on your psyche."

I know, I know this disquiet in my breath is caused by my own limitations. But is there truly nothing else to do? Is this Takeru-san correct in his assessment of those in power? You wouldn't… support such a sorrowful state of affair in that hall, right? Knowing what laid in the hearts of those apprehended, knowing how you reacted when Chief Yoroi came to request that favor out of you, I cannot see how you could-

"There, there," slow rocking on the back of my head, fingers tread my scalp. With nothing but a gentle push I end up resting onto him, an arm wrapping my shoulder. "It's okay, you're safe now."

"I'm fine. I'm not-"

"I can tell you're trying to stay strong. You don't have to," he whispers, running circles on my hair as he makes us both sit down in the middle of the garden, the animals coming closer, bumping their noses on mine.

So I close my eyes, clawing at his dress, at the coldness of the blue. The rabbit on my head descends and nuzzles my cheek, the red kitty licks my hair. For a moment, that is all that happens.

As I try to stiffen my cries he remains drawing circles on my hair, humming some sort of song. Simply laying against each other, surrounded by the ashes which raise and depart, by the rows of flower that still remain intact. I can still her the creaking of the wood, smell the burning mingling with the lavender in the air, even see the searing fireflies that to the moon scatter, yet my breathing returns to normal, no longer do I seek to crush or constrict my own palms, which now lay against his dress.

There is only silence, and, while unsettling, it is also… peaceful. Refreshing, in a sense.

"…Did you used to enjoy being here, Takeru-san? Simply staring at the moon in silence?"

"Yeah," he whispers, still playing with my fringe. "Whenever I had something to think about, I'd come here, to the gardens in the back and stay staring at the moon, at the constellations. Sigh… Even if I only got scolded for it."

"Why? Did they punish you for simply looking at the stars?" How cruel. Why would they do such a thing?

"No, you see, turns out that whenever I go stargazing I end up falling asleep. So, well, Maya-nee and Yohime-san worried that I could get sick when I did that," he says, scratching the back of his head. Smiling, for the briefest moment.

"I see. Did you ever truly become bedridden due to watching the stars?"

"No, dumb people don't catch colds. One advantage of being really dense, I guess," he chuckles to himself, to the groans of the animals which retaliate against his falling strands of hair. "But I also came here, after…" he looks back, sobering sharply, "the accident. I really liked this place. Really…"

"…Was it lost during the invasion, I suppose?" He nods, eyes closing, saying nothing while petting both puppies that whimper and rest their heads on his thighs. "But you could… try and rebuild a place like this, right? Certainly, someone in the IRG would favor such a proposition."

"…No, I don't think so."

"Why?"

"Most parks have been turned into shelters, and even the gardens and parks of the palaces are scheduled to be demolished. Kitanomaru has already been turned into a military camp, and chances are the rest will be next on the chopping block," he spits, frowning, resting his chin on my head.

"But isn't there anything you can do?" Is this why he slowly grew more and more angry? Yet, he's still so cold, so blue. Sturdy as a glacier, icy as one could be.

"Nothing a commoner like me can change. No one even thinks I'm worth my rations…"

"Eh?! Why? You're…" grasping his dress, leaving his arm's hold to stare into his eyes only sends further frost into my lungs. "Do you… truly not find yourself useful to the IRG?"

"Sigh… Again, if you accomplish nothing, it's worse than if you were not there. People are counting on me, and I'm always letting 'em down."

"Do you not try your hardest to support your comrades?"

He looks at me in silence, before sighing. "Matters nothing if they're not happy with my performance. It do be like that sometimes, I just can't seem to stop screwing things up," he sighs once more, the white bunny groaning, both puppies barking, the others rustling in his hold.

The clouds start parting and bathing us both in ample moonlight. Beckoned by the breeze, small firefly-like ashes scatter to the sky. Amidst the silence, the scent of the flowers, we stare at the skyline. Simply resting against one another, simply enjoying this momentary and unlikely peace.

As the butterfly wings rise and fold upon themselves, ashes finally losing luster.

As the threads of moonlight defy ramparts of clouds.

As the breeze rustles armies of flowers, their scent giving no quarters to the burnt smoke.

As I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, tending to the red kitty with a hand, both dragons curling in the space between our faces.

In the silence of this better dream, we remain in place. Simply resting, relaxing under the moonlight.

"…Well, guess I should keep going," he says, slowly standing up, taking the animals on his person once more.

"Do you know where you should go now?" I ask, fingertips still lingering on his dress.

"Eh, forward. Thanks for having accompanied me, Kasumi," he says, again petting my head, placing the black bunny on it again. "But you really should turn around, this is-"

"I won't."

"…Things won't be nice to see. I know you're also part of the dream, but there's no need to-"

"You don't have to worry about me. I will be fine… if you're by my side. Would you rather me go away, perhaps?"

Again roughly rubbing my head, playing with my bangs afterwards, he shakes his head. "Thanks, really. You too, little bun," he then pets the bunny on my head, who rolls on its side to welcome the kindness, almost sliding off my hair. "Well, let's go then. Just… please turn around and leave if things get dangerous, okay?" I nod, stepping forward, grabbing his hand.

And so, he takes one final look at the house which fades to the blaze. Sighing again, taking in one deep breath of the fragrance of the flowers, slow steps he takes towards the gate. Back to the wasteland, to the flickering lightposts and almost abstract patterns of machinery and buildings.

"Um…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I wanted to ask, were you living in that house before?"

"Ah, yeah," he smiles faintly, again looking back for a moment. "I was lucky enough to be allowed to."

"May I ask why? If you're a commoner and that's a house belonging to the nobility, why were you there?"

"Well… It's kinda complicated to explain. Basically, Yohime-san made an exception and allowed me to live with them after my dad died," he says, the purple puppy barking much and hopping about, clinging again onto his leg, biting his dress until Takeru-san pets it for a while.

"Were you… happy back then?"

Again, he smiles briefly. This time, tears are set adrift for a second. "Yes. Those years were probably the happiest of my life."

"Then, do you not have any friends that still care about you? I understand that… the system does not care for one's woes, that anything that hampers the cycles should be discarded, and this may be taking its toll on you, however, surely you still have someone to trust in, right?"

His hand slips from my grasp.

Halting his steps, the hold over the dragons and kitties grows stronger.

A slow shake of his head, a slower descent of a single tear to the soil.

"No, there's no one. Not anymore…"

"Huh? B-But what of the cousins? There's also the Sho- I mean, this Yuuhi you're friends with."

Again, he shakes his head, bottom lip regressing completely behind his teeth despite the barks then whimpers of both puppies, that are met with hissing from the red kitty and white bunny.

"I… I see… Did you have an… argument with them?"

"…Doesn't matter. I'm a nobody for them at this point…" And dragging his feet, he resumes the walk.

The purple puppy whimpers, intently staring, barking. Ignored. So does the blue one, that chooses to remain silent as it walks right beside his feet. The other animals try and huddle to his face, he absentmindedly caresses them. The white bunny on the other hand is now staring at me, and when our eyes cross it gives a slow munch to the air.

"…I'm sorry, it was insensitive of me."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm at fault for letting this get to me. A warrior must not push his emotional burdens onto others," he wipes his eyes, sighing again, a completely neutral and stoic mask shielding his complexion once more. "I'm just a weakling."

"That's not true, Takeru-san. Being open about your pain doesn't make you-"

"A warrior must never falter, must never surrender to despair's freezing grip. Those of us in the IRG have the duty of the Shogunate on our shoulders, so we can't waver or show weakness," he repeats, as if he were an announcer in the radio.

"But being pained about losing people you like isn't weakness."

"…It is for those who must fight."

"I do not agree. It's because you like those people, because you want to give others the peaceful days you enjoyed that you keep moving forward, right?"

"…I guess," he stops, looking up as the illumination flickers on around us. "But someone like me doesn't get the leeway of being bratty. If I talk back, it's more shouts and reprimands. I don't wanna know what's gonna happen if they find me moping about."

"Um, you are assigned as a surface pilot, correct?"

"Hm? Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well… You said something horrible like what happened in that building occurred all the time, right?" He nods, slowly. "Then, I was wondering if you had other duties on your shoulders that are making your duties harder on you. I know casualties are unavoidable," even if I disagree with the Professor's prior claim that those who perish had nothing of value to offer to humanity's cause, "and that your comrades need you ready for the time of battle, yet, there is no need to punish yourself needlessly, to the point of bottling up your grief. There is only so much that can be done, and you are already a decent enough pilot. I think you shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

"…For real?"

"Huh? What did you… that wording…"

"I think there's more we can do, things don't have to be as shitty as they are," he kicks a rock, sending it crashing against a car, breaking its only sane window. "Sigh… It all feels so pointless…"

"Don't say that, please. There are people that you've helped, right? Like that girl before, you protected her to the best of your abilities." From what the echoes told me, you shielded the girl after her mother perished during that terrorist attack. "You should be proud of being so brave in the face of danger, Takeru-san. There are people that do thank your companionship, I'm certain."

"I guess… I guess you're right," he nods, not sounding very convinced as he pats the pink kitty. The white rabbit thumps, looking back at me.

And for a moment, neither of us says a thing. Looking around, the stormclouds claim the sky, the desolate wasteland extends again everywhere. That veil of sweat, that heaviness inside me that was clogging me while inside that building is no more, even if a slight burning pain remains on my mouth.

It is no wonder he lacks so much energy, to face such cruelty at an early age. I know you've said that thinking on the individuals only hampers one's thinking process, yet I believe you wouldn't deride Takeru-san for taking this as hard as he is now, Professor. Even if in the bigger picture the situation was solved, those who hold the bigger picture on their shoulders were made to suffer quite much. However, if what has him in this shape is reminiscent of what we saw on that building then, was his anger born out of the required harshness the people had to endure during the invasion? It would seem he is dejected at the lack of empathy and care his superiors display, and at his own lacking results. While it is true that those who cannot contribute would be scorned and replaced, the Takeru-san I know already tries hard enough to make himself useful. But then, if he shows how willing he is to aid others, what could possibly have him being so-

A sudden yelp, an acute bark echoes, almost like primal cackling. Flinching and looking around, I spot a pair of eyes staring from within the shadows in a corner of a street behind us. Glistening, unmoving.

…Getting closer.

"W-What is that?"

"Hm? Oh," Takeru-san's eyes widen, looking at whatever it is that remains hidden behind the shadows. Then, he shrugs as he shakes his head. "That's the fox, I think."

"Fox?"

Upon my question, the animal leaves the cloak of shadows with slow steps, circling around us. Its unblinking and deep violet eyes look down at us in a perfect lock as it walks circles around the collapsed streets, boxes and abandoned mementos, its purple fur shining bright with not a single speck of dust or filth. It hops in place, laughing and letting out a small yell, slowly wagging its tail as it stares.

"Sigh… I guess it wants us to follow it," he says, both bunnies groaning a bit.

"Have you seen this… fox before, Takeru-san?"

"Yeah, when I get lost in the wasteland. It's always laughing at me for some reason."

"Do you… think it's one of your friends?"

"No, doesn't feel like it. It doesn't really let me get close, and it kind of gives me the creeps."

"Why?"

"I dunno, it just does. See? Even the bunnies don't like it," he says, petting the white fur until it calms down. I also have to pet the small rabbit that my self is within this dreamscape, for it also was most displeased.

"So you don't want to follow it?"

"Sigh… I don't mind it trying to help me, but I've got the feeling that it's playing me," he says, starting to walk towards the fox, that then seems to cackle as it runs into the ruins. "It never lets me get close, and when it does and I try to pet it, it rushes off in a hurry. It's a bit annoying, but it hasn't tried to hurt me or the animals, so I guess it ain't bad," he nods at me with a shrug, once more hugging all the animals while letting the puppies now walk on their own.

…I assume the fox is the Professor, then? She has been referred as such by some hostile people. So this world's Takeru-san thinks so of her? Maybe, his mind sees her like that due to her underhanded way of acting?

Walking after the fox, it always tries to stay on higher ground than us, staring as if to gauge whether we're following it or not, and letting out a small bark before running off as it sees we are on its trail. A mischievous and untrustworthy guide through the wasteland. There is a certain… pressure coming from the unwavering gaze as it looks back at us every now and then.

What would happen if we tried to turn around and stop following it? A faint groan, the rabbit on my head moves a bit. I suppose, as foolish as it would be to ignore her words back in reality.

But then, if this fox is the Professor… I look at the small loaf of white atop Takeru-san's head, that now has its eyes open and seems to be softly groaning in discontent. Our eyes meet, it wiggles its ears a bit. If you're not the Professor then, who are you supposed to be?

We hop over some lightposts, walking sideways to squeeze ourselves through two crumbled buildings, the puppies walking in between us as he extends a hand to aid me not stumble, the fox still cackling and staying a few steps ahead of us, in the shadows. The nearby area looks exactly the same as the wasteland from before, littered with empty water drums and broken buckets, cracked bowls, and other artifacts. In the silence, not even the faint moonlight reaches us as the tall buildings obscure the area, a thin thread of fog hampering our vision, my breath visible as I exhale.

Rubbing my arms, stealing a glance at him, I edge closer. "So, um…"

"Hm?"

"Err, back to what we were talking about…" I say, looking at him, seeking a reaction. He merely nods back, awaiting my words. "Despite being a pilot, do you have other pressing duties on your shoulders?" I suppose, that would explain why this world's Takeru-san grew so blindly angry, if forced to see the asphyxiating pressure of the war, like it felt within that rotting sea of flames. But then, why is he still so silent, so quiet? Wasn't he supposed to be someone really violent?

"Eh, it's more or less the same as the rest, it ain't like I have it harder or anything," he shrugs again, composed despite his posture remaining hunched. "All members of the Imperial Guard have to aid with patrols, the delivery of supplies and the checks of inventory, the usual reports and other bureaucratic junk, and being a commoner makes me no exception. We're short-staffed already, so everyone is juggling two or three duties at times, even if they're basic tasks."

"For example?"

"Tsuhi aids the maintenance crew besides her patrols and surveillance duties, Fukuha and Okamoto cooperate with the IJA with the chain of deliveries, Amanohara and Kobayashi-san deal with some of Raiho-san's petitions for meetings, and Takahashi-san oversees the maintenance and patrols of our fellows."

"And what about you?"

His gaze falls away, hands retracting inward. "I help in the kitchen and in keeping the shelters calm, besides my office work."

"The shelters? How?"

"By giving them updates, or just listening," he says, tone and face suddenly submerged fully under the dark blue hue, now barely lifting his boots to walk, wrapping both dragons more in his hold. The hand linked with mine starts to slowly shake. "People are desperate, you know. Look around at all this shit, how could they not lose it? So if you leave them alone, telling them nothing, they'll assume the worst."

"I see. Little updates, even if they're false at times, aids the civilians to deal with the pressure, avoiding them from falling to dread."

"Yeah, kind of. They need to try and get a routine going again. And sometimes, all they need is someone listening, to feel those in charge do really care. That's all I can do… all I'm good for."

"I s-see…" again, cracks and vines of dark overpower the blue, the boots dragging on the soil, enough to let me overtake his walking speed. "And, um, does your unit have a name? Perhaps," gulping hard, the caustic scorching almost gags me as the illumination above turns itself off, "t-the Swordbreakers?"

"Huh? The what?"

"Oh, it was just a, uh, name I heard once," I say, looking away, to the ground to not stumble under the low visibility. Shortly after, I hear the white bunny groaning again, its eyes fixed on me.

Yet, Takeru-san merely fiddles with his hair, then the bunny's, before shaking his head, without any sudden disquiet in his body or aura. "No, I never heard of a unit with that name. The unit I'm assigned to is the 44th Independent Squadron of the IRG, callsign Chain. We're officially under the Wolf Battalion, but we mostly just do our own thing," he again shrugs, corking his brows as he hears the fox laughing, doing circles ahead of us, before sighing yet again then climbing the uneven terrain as the lightposts around us continue to flicker on and off, giving away sparks.

I do not recall ever hearing of that squadron from Takeru-san, nor do I remember hearing about it during our recovery sessions. But why would he have not recalled that yet? Hmm, because the memories are not yet assimilated? So that would equal that this Takeru-san is how he was right before becoming that angry person everyone says he was? But he doesn't seem evil or violent in the slightest. Even amidst the fire and in front of that corpse, he felt so silent and cold. Almost as if he himself were like this wasteland.

He offers a hand, I take it and he steadies me as I climb over some cars that are in the way. As my feet slowly reach the other side of the street, I look into his eyes. "…So, are you content in this squadron? Is there something you're not pleased with?"

"…I fulfill my duty, and I try for that to be enough," he says, swallowing another sigh.

"Why? Aren't you helping the people of the shelters? I understand that… in the face of something as overwhelming as what happened in that mansion-"

"It's not like that, at all," he replies, soft acid dripping from his lips.

"Then, why do you feel like your efforts are pointless?"

"Because, I dunno, I feel like we should have better protocols, or some plan to actually help our fellows. It's like…" His arms slowly fold, he looks upwards as I approach his side as the fox barks once more.

A strong wind howls, coldness crawls up my spine as needles dig at my nape. Dizziness, disorientation. Lights flicker above me, or perhaps they're fireflies. But as the blurriness fades, I can see they are ashes.

All around us, smoke and ashes. Strong clouds, even stronger echoes of explosions, distorted shapes flying about, fingers coiling like the horns of a goat, a pouring beating of metallic bits and torn cables falling upon us. And yet, despite the closeness of the explosion's glare, it all feels so cold.

"W-What is… What is-" I gag, coughing brusquely, yet he holds my shoulder in support.

"I always had these nightmares since the defense of Kyoto, when I didn't make it to save some of the fleeing civilians, leaving a girl alone after all that mess."

"Huh? You… didn't manage to save them? But… But you're such a good pilot, how did-"

"Because I started arguing instead. I could have, I dunno, made a more convincing argument instead of snapping. And the time I wasted… caused this," he says, looking around at the blackened smoke which swirls around us, at the shapes that are bent and broken behind the veil. "It don't matter how good a pilot I am, long distances can't be cleared in just a few seconds. Not with a Zuikaku."

Chests folding inside out before giving in to the blazes and smoke, crabs sliced in half, manic screams, mournful screams. No stars above, no wind clearing the smoke, I can only choke as I lean on him as the entire place is engulfed in the suffocating sensation as if this were a closed-off room.

My hands meet the softness of his dress, however. And nothing collides against me, instead I feel something poking my nose. One of the dragons, the black one, rubbed its nose on mine, the blue puppy also huddling closer to my legs.

And yet, the other dragon starts to shriek, shriek and scream as the thin trunks of the Warriors are turned into pincushions, yet the metallic frames up above only find a lone girl safe after the fact. He pets its head, the brown drake slowly curls inwards, hiding its face into one of Takeru-san's armpits.

"I used to think I was having a breakdown after seeing battle for the first time, after only managing to save that lone girl. If we can even call that saving, of course," he spits in a whisper. "I thought that I was freaking the fuck out, despite how many times we were told that people would die in battle," he says, low and cold, eyes barely open. "That this happened because I was a dumb rookie and things would be better when the vets got everything back in order."

A hammer cracking my skull in half or being forcefully pushed down into water. An impact like when I tried to dive into his mind, again spurring dizziness, again sending a line of fire from my forehead to my nape. Stiffness, contraction, hair stands on edge, pain all over the back of my head. How… How can you remain so immutable while feeling like this?

"I used to think there was a solution being prepared…" he whispers, a single tear again falling from his eyes as most buildings around us are crushed into dust, into darkness, "but the hours just keep getting harder to endure, and nothing seems to be going to change for the better."

I pull his wrist, hands shaking, "H-However, you did save that girl's life. Your efforts weren't-"

"That's not the point."

"Then, what is?"

He points up, grimacing. Spiraling around us, smoke, fire and debris flashes in my sight, lifted off the ground like papers from the desk as the Professor hits her muse and blasts into full focus after the customary palming of the wood. Up above, beyond the buildings, echoes of thunders within swirling clouds which shriek into a falling drill. Yet, the storm is blasted apart for a single moment, like a curtain swatted away by the morning breeze, as four metallic shapes descend in the distance. The ground shakes, my feet slip, his arm catches and holds me steady so that I can see well. A few Takemikazuchi units rush through the battlefield like a see-through mirage, splintering even the smallest BETA in twain, standing proud in their conquest over the hellfire.

"Is this the counterattack of the Kyoto Battle?"

"No, this is the first night," he says while still grimacing, the purple puppy barking at the ongoing onslaught where tanks and Tanks are lifted and swatted in the air like ping pong balls by the flight of Type-00 units. "We had the power to halt the invasion, we had the units to protect the city, to evacuate the people safely even if the shit hit the turbine. And guess what? They left no one to shield the last defense line," he says, sinks, as he wraps the brown dragon in his dress, as he pulls me closer, tapping his boot to halt the aggravations released by the purple doggy. "And even after that battle, there were many small things we could have done. Little details, small gestures of kindness, small moments of bravery from those high up. But every day, it's more silence and nothingness."

For a moment, there are only distant echoes of violence in the darkness. There is only the nose of the black rabbit that scours my hair, rubbing against my scalp in sympathy. Only the soft contact of his fingers as they caress my fringe, the warmth of the animals that huddle close. With one deep sigh, he shakes his head, pats my shoulders, and everything around simply fades away, receding back into the shadows, just barely out of sight. Be it the thrashed furniture, the carpet of shattered glass, the little books burning by the remains of machinery, or the knitted clothes or small accessories or tiny toys that spill out from what boxes, bags or luggage those escaping tried to salvage from their homes, what little dear mementos crushed by either the Warriors or by the Takemikazuchi's feet as they stomp in triumph over their battlefield of choice.

Knees quiver as I try to stand on my own, taking a slow breath in. "Are these the nightmares… you always have every morning?"

"Huh? How do you even- Sigh… Yeah, something like that."

"So is this why you hate the Royal Guard? Because they…" arranged such an accident, to display their Takemikazuchi for the first time? Is this what you meant by 'giving meaning to the burning of the Capital', Professor?

"Hate? No, I don't really hate anyone… I'm just disappointed," both watering eyes look upwards again, both puppies whimpering in agreement, the rest of the animals huddling closer, the white bunny opening its eyes and groaning, the one in my head simply huddling into my touch. "There's no solution, only the same words echoed time and again. Those high up don't listen, they take it as a personal attack if you try and suggest something to 'em. And it doesn't matter what you do in the end, you're just another worthless pawn, another lowborn to use as a meat shield," grimacing, cracks spawn in his complexion.

Yet, where the Takeru-san I know would have ignited further while mentioning such things, there's hollowness behind the cracks, a saddened quiver in his lips as his gaze crashes down, far worse than the wreckage in this place, as he starts to walk once more.

"Are they truly so harsh towards commoners?"

"It's not just commoners, it's anyone who is of lower station than the one speaking," he slowly says, hugging the dragons to his chest, petting the tuna and the red kitty that within the scarf remain. "So if a Shinpan orders something, there's no changing that. Even if all you try to do is give them a suggestion, inform them of how the terrain looks like so they can make a better decision, all you get are shouts and punishments for speaking out of turn."

"So they're truly nothing but prideful buffoons." Just as that mean squadmate of yours, just like Sumika-san told me.

"…If that was all, I could stomach it, you know. Accept the rules, play with the hand I got." He whispers, taking a second to hesitate on his steps, avoiding a lone flower, an abandoned stuffed toy. "Maybe I'm the idiot here, always trying to 'help out' when I'm a stranger in the guard. Sigh…"

Silently, he continues on walking. The fox remains watching us for a moment, before once more hurrying off into the stretched shadows. Under the swirling clouds, small ashes posing as fireflies in the air as the wind howls serve as as powdery light accompanying our travel through the seemingly unending expansion of dirt and debris that goes into the horizon.

Sigh… As if it truly were an eternal wasteland. Yet, even now, there is no hatred, no tension in his hands or lips, none of that fire within his eyes. So quiet, so slow, so dimmed. So, so blue. It might not be wise to press further, but…

"But why won't they care to listen to your reports? The IRG are the protectors of the Shogunate's interests, right?"

"Yeah, that's exactly the problem," he sighs, again.

"Huh? I do not understand. If your work could benefit the organization, why dismiss your reports?"

"Well, you could say salvation is what many are after nowadays. To prove their devotion to the nation to get better food, to find a solution to stop the BETA, to do enough patchwork to keep everything tied up. Or, like… to make business with the situation."

A faint wind blows, ashes and dust kicks up, small flickers of yellow and orange flutter about as the lightposts turn off. And this time, they don't regain their shine. Within the blurry haze of the foggy curtain, so very small specks crack through the ice of his aura.

And near us, a robust building can be seen through the fog, appearing suddenly like a castle by the sea, like in the tales the Professor brought me when I was little.

A large auditorium, overflowed to the brim with people. Thrust together, falling and folding onto one another, toads in a bucket, all of them smeared in filth to the point of leaving their visible skin reddening, their nails long enough to resemble vampires of folktales, tainted bandages surrounding each and every one of them like a cocoon, far more overflowed than the hall we saw before.

A small scratch, a tiny distortion in his aura, in his lips, as he stares at the spectacle of shapes that can be seen through the broken doors of the place.

"…But there is no salvation to be found here."

"But there are people trying to solve the issue, I'm certain. The Prof- I mean, some of the authorities must be devising a plan to counter the invasion and return some normalcy to the Empire."

Instead of answering me, he again stops walking, despite the warning in barks from the fox, to once more seek the moonlight obstructed by stormclouds, only a rough shape filtering through.

"In any organization, high impact decisions take precedence over small adjustments. I know that much, I get it, for real," he says, slow, detached, no different than the beeping of a machine in process. "Those in charge want solutions to the current problems of their agendas, regardless of the methods used to solve them, more so if they come with lots of benefits." Again slumping, his head crashes down like a meteor, the gaze burning even further below. "Focusing on things that give little to no tangible return will only get you yelled at for being useless to the system."

"B-But even in times of crisis, to neglect the safety of the people is-"

"They're well enough in the shelters," a brow twitches, "it's us soldiers who do the heavy lifting, they shouldn't take us for granted," then it's both eyelids as he starts to frown, ripples turning to waves within the glacier. "The safety and interests of the Empire should be prioritized over anything else, and any of us should be overjoyed to courageously offer flesh and blood for the nation."

"I concur a focus on the individual can cloud one's mind when overseeing matters from a position of responsibility within large structures, however-"

All lights in the area shut off, the empty drums falling down, the tiny rations pack joining into tumbleweeds, a cold gale then blows.

"Indulgence in luxuries and selfishness is a sin, instigating dissent and discontent is an offense towards His Holy Majesty's royal commandments," his fist begin to shake, his already tattered gloves breaking further. "Austerity is a value to praise so it is commendable to make do with what the ration-card gives you without expecting further reward for your services," breathing grows erratic like a scared horse, ignoring the taps of the kitties' paws, the grumbling of dragons and puppies, or the groans of the white bunny. "We're not supposed to help, because it's better to spend our resources to turn around the war. Even if… lots of people die for it."

"However, it can't truly be so desperate, right?" I know the situation was, and continues to be, truly rough on the majority of the population, yet there has been a small rebound effect after a few cities were rebuilt. "It is a herculean effort what is asked of you, I won't deny it, but there must be a solution awaiting beyond the horizon. After all, the sky is always darker right before daybreak."

Holding my gaze for a moment, gazing around for another, a slow shake of his head follows while he runs a hand over the dragons and kitties. "From my spot, it looks like everything is going to hell and back, with no turning back. They're planning to even send the orphans to the factories to builds ammo and 'contribute' to the nation."

"H-Huh?! That's not possible."

I recall the Professor saying she pressured the UN to prevent such things from happening, to truly send inspectors to verify where our supplies came from, to avoid needless entanglements with controversy. I still remember how badly she felt after drinking so much coffee when staying up many days in a row for the negotiations between COSEAN and the Empire, as well as the old chain of command from the UN from before the Treaty fell down. Simply thinking about it is enough to make me sigh and look down, the hours on end surrounded by towers of reports I readied for her, the databases I had to build. Left with only being able to bring tea to her bedside after she almost fell sick as my sole way of aiding the Professor.

He sighs, once more, his feet starting to drag and lift dust. "It is very possible, bunny girl. There has been a certain, uh, 'narrative' I think it's called by the higher ups, going around that says that there are actually no civilians in the Empire."

"What? However, why would anyone claim such a thing?"

"Because everyone should see him or herself as a soldier, and all vassals of His Holy Majesty must be honored to be of use for the war efforts," he says, a cracked gesture that does not resemble a smile, further submersion of his features and aura, his pants bitten by both puppies. Crouching to pet them, enduring their climbing attempts, holding them for a moment. "So everyone should obey the orders they're given without protest, no matter what. All thanks to Her Highness' royal decree," he spits as he frowns for a second, lips cascading, with a loud bark from the fox answering it as if in agreement, a whimper of both puppies that try and lick at his chin.

All I see in his logic and sharp eyes is a pyramid enduring a storm. Hand reaching out like roots, like a flower left at the bottom of a ravine seeking the sun, only to be stomped back underwater. Only those high above manage to ignore the pouring rain, those down below remain forever holding the impossible weight on their shoulders even as their inner fluids and vital components are made to join the turbulent stream of the storm.

My fingertips reach for his sleeve, yet are unable to pull it ever slightly. I can only look down, to avoid peering further into what his aura reveals, into the echoes. "Uh… Um… W-Was it truly so desperate? Wasn't there even a single good thing, a small victory you can think of?"

I know our situation was truly dire, the Professor looked miserable on those days, everybody looked completely dark. Empty, void, apathetic, as if they were completely dead inside. I couldn't go outside as much, everyone looked on edge on those days and the Professor didn't want to risk anything happening to me. But going by the ripples in his aura, how it isn't becoming red in anger but falling further into midnight blue, it all would indicate that the visage that lies in front of me is not an exaggeration from his psyche. It is the manifestation of his issues with a reality he cannot cope with.

"…No, it wasn't one lone thing that was unbearable," he whispers, shoulders sagging, a small tickling sensation falling on my head as he stands. A thin thread of something liquid… coming down from his forehead… "And if you stray a single millimeter from the lane," he says, dry and low, "accusing fingers blast to you faster than piranhas to a roast beef," again shrugging, his features relax as he again pets the animals.

I can say nothing, he simply rests for a second. In silence, he walks again and I follow.

Sidestepping through the wood planks, wires, and who knows what else are those broken parts, his hands always extended backwards to aid me traverse the wreckage under the ever-present stare of the fox. And he says nothing else again, leaving that prickling and cold feeling piking at my nape. I breath in, looking down, the rabbit on my head rustles, groaning. The white one does too, as I look up I find the thing staring at me. And as I remain quiet, it gives a small munch to the air, causing Takeru-san to sigh and pet its head.

…So they want me to keep the conversation going? The rest of the animals also stare at me, whimpering as he merely touches them to silence their concerns. And looking at him well, Takeru-san is… limping on the way forward, resting his weight only on one leg. The coldness in the air, the light vanishing from the place, and… the lack of any signs of people or remains in the area is a bit disturbing. Before, I could easily find plushies or books or even… remains. Now, however, there is nothing save hints of unmaking.

Gulping, grasping his sleeve a bit, I inch closer. "However, I, well, believed the selflessness of the army was what allowed them to protect the people. That despite the, uh, strong worded opinions some hold they had managed to open a river through a desert during those days." That's why Lucifer could be a success, that's why the Yokohama Hive could be recovered, that's why the Professor managed to keep Alt IV on the rails despite the almost hopeless situation of this nation on that horrible year that was 1999.

"…A river of blood, that is," he frowns, stomping slowly for a moment as we get to an open expanse of wasteland again, a glimmer of moonlight gracing the edge of the sky. "Sure, we're still floating but even then… we've already lost the war."

"But if the BETA are repelled-"

"So what if they are?"

A flicker of fire, sparking within the blue.

Eyes that open wide, eyes brimming red, eyes that overlap.

And acid, a venomous acid which is equal to the tone he employed when he showed us his memories of battle.

"Is that gonna make up for all the deaths we've allowed to happen? How the fuck are we even supposed to rebuild this nation if all everyone can think of is to keep on fighting to their graves?"

"H-However, there must be something you can do, without countering in aggression," I say, pulling his arm. "Someone has to still be looking out for the future, right?"

The tension recedes, a wave back to the sea, diffusing the red within. "Sigh… I know, I hope, but no one will listen. It's one thing to unite us to try and brave this dark hour, another to… simply surrender everyone to die and glorify it as something praiseworthy."

As if to answer to his words, the ground shakes a bit as the fox's howl reaches my ears. The iron beams, the torn wreckage twists and bends, forming rows of real fangs under the wasteland.

"And as long as those prideful, extreme approaches continue to produce the results those up high want nothing will change. It's just like with Shura's Dance…" biting his lips, he kicks the air, the deformed maw that springs forth from the dried soil, "they'll just abandon the civilians to their luck, because it's better for the battle plan. 'Cutting the right corners' as they say," frowning, he spits on the ground.

"However, humanity's salvation… can still happen because of these noble sacrifices. If the Empire were to fall-"

"Then tell me, Kasumi. How am I supposed to convince an MP that wants to die after losing a limb because 'she can't contribute to the Empire's expectations'?"

"H-Huh?"

"How do I get the kids to eat their meals when all they think is that they'll be sent to work or to train?"

"I… I was- I don't- I mean… Um…"

"And no one bats an eye anymore, no one speaks up against this madness, no one questions the decisions our superiors take, and no one listens to the advice those of us who work the terrain have to give." He then shrugs, his chuckling breaking at times when the fox howls, glaring at us from a distance. "And I ain't even talking about me, some of my squadmates also get lots of shit just for trying to offer their grain of sand. And if we guards get so much shit, how do you think the civvies are treated when they try to offer their advice in their fields of work?"

It's as if a viscous, swirling fire of red were constantly changing shapes inside his heart. Kind of like one of those lava lamps the Professor showed me when I was little, but with true magma encased in dry ice. And eyes, and lips, and fingers melt and swirl within that liquid fire, as if throwing themselves onto it.

Coughing and hacking, my knees meet the ground. A strong scent fills my nostrils, as if oil and fuel were showering upon me. Again slowly stroking my hair, rubbing my back and casting the spikes on my nape away as his aura flows into me.

"You really should turn back and leave, Kasumi," he whispers, patting my shoulder. "This isn't your battlefield."

"…Is this how you've been feeling everyday?" When I wake you up, when I notice your aura darkening in your office… Is this what plagues your mind, below the surface?

"Well… Not every day, no, but for the most part, yeah, it's been the same shit non-stop," he rubs his eye bags, ruffling his long hair for a moment as the animals all press themselves onto him. "Too many things to fix, to little I can actually do, no one who would listen, failing to just, I dunno, contribute anything that actually matters. I'm just… exhausted, I guess?"

After a few deep breaths, after leaning on his arm to stand up again, I cough and speak slowly. "B-But there's no way that there's no solution in sight for you," enduring a strenuous effort, a sharp pain on my lower back, behind my knees, I hold his gaze, sinking fully into the cloak of dry ice which is his aura. "What I saw on those days, what you say happened, and all of this darkness around us… I know the situation must look miserable from the ground, but the UN wouldn't allow civilians to be abandoned or for all of them to be treated as part of the military. And I doubt the soldiers of the Empire would welcome the notion, their honor to protect their people would make them feel dishonored by that. And even then, you wouldn't… y-you wouldn't-"

Again petting my head, he shakes his. "It ain't always so easy, Kasumi. Sometimes, the shepherd's best choice is to blast the lambs to save the farm. And us sheep ain't strong enough to face the wolves on our own."

"But… But even if impossible for common people, there was someone who-"

"Sudden malfunction of communication," he says, sighing, hollowing himself out, "deliberate black screens, false reports, and abuse of the chain of command. If a Shinpan or a member of a Regent House declares an area liberated, no one would be stupid enough to doubt them. Like they did when they abandoned Uncle and his family…" more lava bubbles raise below the icy water, small dents and scars. No amount of kindness from the animals douses his mood. "Where was the UN back then? Running away like cowards. Where was the IRG? Supporting a 'national hero' that abandoned his people. If they had tried, they could have saved Uncle Koetsu and everyone else…" And again, he starts to shake, sink further into dark blue. "But it wasn't worth the ammo and fuel. It never is." Another bark, a cold gust, he frowns. "Ugh, shut up, you stupid fox!"

Clutching his arm, I lean on the freezing fog again, seeking and finding no glimmer in his aura. "However, there are regulations that forbid acting in-"

"Like the Geneva Suggestion?" He asks, raising a brow, a bark from the fox and groans from both rabbits as answers.

"Ah, well… Yes. The Professor tends to refer to it in that way, at times."

"Hahaha… Sounds about right, doesn't it?" He then sighs again as he tends to the animals, making swirls on hairs, rubbing foreheads and ears before we walk again, hands still interlocked, this time with the fox remaining closer. "But a few 'small sacrifices' are little when compared to the 'big picture'. Why waste time saving a few hundreds when thousands, or even millions, hang on the survival of the Empire? And to that end, it's an honor to find meaning in your death. To cheat yourself into believing you dying means something down the line."

"But it's because people fought that-"

"There's a difference between a suicide and a sacrifice, Kasumi. And…" he touches the lump in his forehead, lips receding until they're fully behind his teeth, "it's a hard difference to see, when you've no reason to go on," again he sighs despite the strong gale, the thunders in warning that echo from the thickening stormclouds above. "That's why I've been trying to help the shelters, to tell my superiors of things we could do from our position, but all I ever get are shouts about how useless I am…"

…I suppose, this was caused by the negative of the Professor to relocate Alt IV to the States. If I recall correctly, she had received such an offer after we retreated from Hakuryo Base, after Professor Kirigaya perished. A proposal of support, to merge her project with Alt V, to be granted protection, funds, and new members for the STF. I myself believed she was going to agree, to gain a foothold on the US, to have influence on the decisions made for the supposed new armaments and bring a tailwind of stability to the Empire by supporting a total evacuation of the mainland, more so after the death of the prior Shogun sending quite the chaos into the soldiers of the nation, going by her and the poor Instructor's words back then.

Yet, the Professor vehemently refused. Not only that, but started to push for her own agenda to assault the recently formed Yokohama Hive as soon as its existence was reported. Such an assault required manpower to be preserved, resources to be amassed, appropriate defense lines to be crafted. And a few concessions and deals with the right people, to earn their support.

…And her vision would come to pass, even if it came with a draconian regime to follow so that the Empire's and UN's armies could meet the requirements to execute Lucifer, in opposition to the total loss of sovereignty that meant to send the population as refugees or entangling Alt IV with V.

So the rising magma in him stems from such days, as one of those who had to push the gargantuan wheel with his bare hands. One of the many 'small concessions' the Professor was willing to make when she became the sole lead of the project, one of the 'lambs to blast' as he put it.

And even then it's not like her reaction at all. It's not burning red, it's not sinking dark. It's still so very much blue, so sorrowful and grieving despite the cracks all over him, like metal sinking further beyond the sea.

As if that same ice were constricting upon me, my voice barely leaves my lips. "…However, in the long run, once the BETA are vanquished, everybody will be able to restart their lives once again. It is a strenuous effort that you have to endure… but there is a light awaiting on the other side."

"Even if entire families prefer to kill themselves instead of evacuating, to 'not be a burden on our land'?"

A small flash, or many in quick succession, within the fangs that surround us in the wasteland. Tight expressions, sunken eyes, bolted doors, slow shakes of head. Absolute absence in the little mounds of dirt and balls of concrete where bustling life once was, now twisted and mixed into the sharp shape.

"Even when there's little to no support coming from above?"

A slicing sensation down my back, the point of a knife running up and down. A wounded woman in a BDU, pressure on my arms as I see Takeru-san's own arms in the suit's shielding as they press themselves over reddening clothing wrapped around the lower leg of the soldier. Pain in my lungs, soreness, numbness, a grip at the base of my neck as my eyes water, as red lightning roars in the sky.

"We're wasting crucial time on the mission due to your folly, Shirogane! The man's as good as dead, and we should not be loitering here. Chain One to all. We are leaving, this instant!"

Blinking repeatedly, fighting the haziness, a strong circle of pink now lays in one his cheeks, over the overall paleness of his skin, illuminated by the red bolts which start to fall like the shots of a cannon.

"…Even if we can't give the little kids a single reason to dream of a better future?" He says, falling on his bottom, wrapping both hands over his shoulders.

Whether I sat down on my own or if I fell, I cannot tell. Was it because of the strong wind, of the threat of rain? I do not know. Did a thunderbolt fall nearby or did I collide with one of the fangs? It is hard to tell. All I know is, I cannot remain standing, and my palms meet the dryness of the ground.

It's like back at the facilities, the freezing grip of the weather, the ice spears which tear my insides by merely inhaling. Such is the pressure on his chest as two small shapes come closer, as if they were right in front of us in some narrow, filth-strewn room. Two small little girls, dressed in some rags that would resemble potato sacks more than proper clothing, one with strong pink hair and the other with lime green. Both with sunken cheeks, their collarbones visible and protruding from the skin, both resembling boiled tomatoes that could very well just peel themselves off. As the small girl with pink hair approaches, withstanding her gaze, the pleading, faint hold of her hand on his sleeve brings a twister to his stomach, that spicy fire burning my palate again.

"But the adults said I'll never go back to my village, that I should get used to living and working here in the shelter. My siblings in Suno told me that 'hope' was something I never had to lose when they left to train, but everyone looks so sad and no one wants to play or read with us anymore, and we're only getting one meal despite not doing anything bad. Mister Guard, is everything really going to be fine? Do we have any hope left?"

My throat closes up, a burning sliver of vile slips through my lips.

Crushing my nose, a hand covers my mouth. Yet, the instinct, the hiccups on my chest do not stop.

The repetition, the unending loop of scenes that do not stop in the large auditorium, in the open slums, and who knows where else makes me dizzy, lightheaded as more and more spikes and thorns drizzle over my nape.

Gasping for air, looking up, my eyes find no respite. A vast row of torn shapes hangs below the clouds, coiling and mixing with each other. A large tapestry of grotesqueries, exposed innards which are used as puppet strings, stitched together in a sailor knot, into a large mass which would soon resemble a Legion from folklore, hanging from lightposts or antennas, dangling like swings left to the elements. All of them, in the end, are set on fire and blasted away by red lightning that come from the stormclouds.

"That's why it feels so pointless, they insist on the same tactics and approaches every goddamn time while the ones suffering don't even get words of fellowship to keep on going."

"That's not true…"

"Heh, of course it is. Speak against anyone up, your meals get cut in half. Ask for some help or try to pass a suggestion, you get flamed by the 'honorable' superiors. They don't give a shit anymore, and there's nothing the ones at the bottom can do to change that. Dissent is not tolerated, after all."

That's not true. The Professor was working day and night to reach a solution, against the clock and the opposition from both the UN and the Empire. It's true that she… she was far colder back then, that she did say any sacrifices were worth it for humanity's salvation to come to be. That we had to cut the right corners, and that wasting potential resources on dead ends had to be avoided at all costs. But she did all that for the future, for Alt IV and the salvation that would come.

"The UN… Even if some Imperial soldiers acted out of line, the UN wouldn't-"

"Yeah, right. The 'international police' to the rescue," he sighs, the white rabbit looking back at me and groaning. "After Shura's Dance, who the hell would believe in the UN Farces?"

"But there are many that are trying to-"

"After their 'inspectors' visit the shelters and find nothing wrong?" He asks, again hunching over as a sigh escapes his lips. "I wanted to believe in them, bunny girl. But they're staying safe behind their defense lines, more worried about their meetings than in forwarding actual policies to help their own foot soldiers. Whoever is in charge over there is probably a demon, like whoever planned Shura's Dance and abandoned Hakuryo."

"…That's not true."

"Huh?"

"The Professor isn't… She is no demon."

A cold sensation covers me, the images around me growing defined, clear, the more that frozen blue approaches. Out of air, yet something tries to rise from my stomach as I gag.

"You don't understand…"

"Please calm down, I wasn't-"

"You can't understand!"

"S-Sorry, I didn't meant to-"

"Don't say she's a demon! All she had to endure, all that she convinced herself to do… You can't understand anything of that!"

The Takeru-san I know wouldn't say that. He wouldn't give up at failing, and he wouldn't blame the Professor for it. You should know it, how awful it felt to abandon Hiiragi. She was mostly alone back then, forcing herself to bear everything, even against the opposition of the nobles that hated her so much. And even the Professor… she had to completely drown herself back then just to keep going forward. Hollowing herself out, not even eating, despite how she was trying to remain strong she was cracking all over. Every night, every night I could hear her inner cries before going to sleep echo in the back of my head.

And that's saying nothing on all the members of the STF or the Instructor, all the hardships they had to endure once the Professor formally made their shift to UN Command unlike the mixed arrangement that was in place in Hakuryo Base.

You're always so shining, that drive you always have… I envy it so much, as someone who never did anything on my own volition. Don't call her a demon, don't fall to this dread… Please… You should know how it feels to keep on walking only to see no results come up. Don't talk about the Professor like that. Takeru-san, you more than anyone should be able to comprehend how pained she truly was…

"So if you don't understand, then don't say such awful things please." Don't fall into hatred, that's not how you really are. The Takeru-san I know isn't-

"I can't understand?"

Looking back at him, his lips remained half open as he hangs his head. And slowly, so slowly, a single teardrop falls down, not even strong enough to make it halfway through his cheek. And while subtly shaking…

He starts to laugh.

And doesn't stop.

Instead it grows in strength and loudness.

Even as the puppies bark and tap his legs, he doesn't stop.

Ignoring the groans of both bunnies, the distant barking of the fox, the grumbles of the dragons, the light hits of the kitties and the tuna, or the gust that hits our faces and scatters dust around us as thunders roar above.

He keeps on laughing, almost hysterically, eyes watering yet not enough to shed tears.

"U-Um… I-I'm sorry, Takeru-san. I shouldn't have… shouted at you. So please don't focus so much on… Um…" Without even listening to me, not even seeming to notice I am now in front of him and shaking his shoulder, he keeps on dryly chuckling.

"Haha… hahaha… I see. No wonder you snapped at me, looking at me like that. It's always the same with you."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

And wiping his eyes, coughing for a brief moment, he looks at me, straight into my eyes, as a wavering smile raises. "In the end… you always leave too, don't you?"

"…What?"

"So it's okay, bunny girl," he turns around, slowly taking a few steps forward. "Just turn around and leave like you always do."

The bunny on top of my head groans, thumping strongly, as I also do, lips shaking as I step closer towards him. "W-Wait a moment, I didn't meant to- I wasn't- What are you even talking about? I just don't want you falling to anger… That's all I-"

He stops, looks up, and I follow with my gaze. It freezes my insides, and I can hear nothing for a moment. Save of a strong rumbling, the rumbling of thrusters coming to life.

A long, long rocket vanishes into the stars while piercing the clouds.

Looking at it brings shivers down my spine, the slow poke of spiders crawling up the bare skin of my back follows right after.

A faint, see-through mirage flickers within the echoing thunders of the propulsion's trail.

A silhouette which resembles me, embracing the cylinder with Sumika-san inside. Screaming at Takeru-san, that he will never understand, before he holds her up and dashes away from the room.

"Ah… A-Ah…" M-My head… It hurts, as if something were piercing from inside my ears.

"No, I don't want to leave. I'll lose myself if I do."

The hallways blur in an instant, held by a strong grip. My nose hurts, as if inhaling into water, as if shrouded in sheets as liquid falls upon me. Gagging, coughing, clawing at my face does nothing to stop the grip of liquid which binds my face.

"Without Sumika-san, I'm just another esper. I don't want to go back to those days…"

Reaching outside, some of his squadmates gather and warn us there is little time left. Sinking to my knees, embracing my stomach, my sight blurs more and more.

"But I… I don't want to say goodbye…"

Takeru-san then pats my- her head, asking for a 'See you later', waving with a smile. Wheezing for air, ears ringing, I keep coughing and coughing. The pain does not recede, now covering all of my head and stomach.

"Don't lie to me. Don't tell me we'll see each other again… Don't make a promise you cannot keep…"

Lifted by a Gekishin's hand, her sight remains locked onto Takeru-san as the machine takes off. His shape becomes so small in the distance, until there is only a tiny, tiny dot. Someone… help… Cough…

"…Don't give me hope, Shirogane-san."

Looking through a small opening nearby, beyond the glass a lone Gekishin waves at me, before everything shakes and the ground becomes distant, so far away. And yet, the large machine that grows smaller and smaller never stops waving, not even as it blurs in with the rest of the landscape of the base.

"Why say 'See you later'? You know that… we won't ever see each other aga-"

"No! This is a lie, Takeru-san isn't going to leave anywhere!" Clawing at the sides of my head, clamping my ears does nothing as the faint cries continue, regretting the time wasted, insisting on the permanent departure. "Get out… of my head. This isn't real."

A strong yet soft hit atop my head. A loss of weight on it.

I blink, gasping for dear air as the echoes suddenly stop, vision refocusing instantly.

The black bunny was now in front of me, looking into my eyes as if waiting.

A moment passes as I regain my breath, rubbing my forehead as my every muscle, my every vein twitches and pulsates, as if I had an engine in overdrive within my skull.

Thumping again, the rabbit groans at me then turns around and quickly hops off beyond the wreckage.

Looking as it goes away, I can only gape as I breath in, my composure finally returning.

Rubbing my head, the lower part of my ears as I blink at the hazy darkness around me, the disquiet ceases and the heaviness leaves me. And only now as I stand up do I realize, Takeru-san is nowhere to be found.

"Takeru-san? Where are you?"

Only a dry, distant echo of my own query answers me. Only the twisted shapes right behind the veil remain here, the silence of the wasteland.

Complete, utter silence within the darkness, the enlarging shadows that seem to fall further upon me.

Everything in sight grows dim and unfocused as the blanket of the fogs tightens its hold over the area, as everything entrusts itself to the conquest of the haze.

And again, the faint sensation on the back of my head, the numbness of wakefulness.

Should I give up? Just surrender to the numbness and wake up? No, I can't… I can't leave him like this!

Slow steps at first quickly turn into a sprint, tripping and almost falling face first into the dirt. No one answers my screams, nothing pierces the shadows. Almost tripping, I end up kicking a torn pairs of boots left behind, stepping on a broken pot with drying flowers. No one answering my screams, only silence around me, I start running in earnest through the shadowy ruins and cracks. Barely stopping as I spot an odd shadow, a crude plush toy with enlarged eyebrows torn and hanging from an iron beam as if it had hanged itself there. A minute golden amulet also lays in a sinkhole shining at the faint threads of light that yet remain, there's even old clothes which remind me of the picture books of Santa Claus the Professor once bought me when I was younger lying in that pit.

All of that and other trinkets remain lost in the holes that spawn in the ground or dangling from the broken remains of TSFs, mostly F-15 models and Gekishins, that take their eternal rest on the ground. The dust and stains on them, the decay permeating them serves as proof of the abandonment said items have been enduring. All of these items, they belong to our Takeru-san's memories, do they not? If this specific place belongs to his own mind, why is this other Takeru-san roaming this wasteland, then?

Decelerating gradually until my hands meet my knees, again I stand still within the all-encompassing fog. "Haa… No, why did he react so oddly? He remembered something… from one of Takeru-san's previous lives?"

Why did he say 'I always leave too'? He had said before that… he dreamed of me and someone else. But if that is the case then, that would be… exactly like the recovery sessions. That flash of memories, was it how he parted ways with the me of another timeline? But if this world's Takeru-san knows of it-

The ground starts to shake, and shakes, and keeps on growing in anger, sending me towards a wall. What few buildings remain start to collapse as well, the air thickening in heat and ashes. Covering my mouth as I stumble about in the shadows, very slowly the fog starts to clear, allowing a pair of large cliffs to emerge from the white blindness of this haze. With nowhere else to go I thus hurry down the narrow pathway available, my breath becoming visible, the shadows beginning to thaw.

As soon as the minimal thread of light pierces the ravine I'm traversing, needles once more sink below my ears.

"The only thing… a dead soldier can do."

A voice rasps, I hit something with my feet. Still and burnt, the black dragon lays mangled on the ground as smoke still raises from its shriveled body that now resembles charcoal.

Gagging on empty air once more, I step forward in a hurry. Further knives come up my throat and I stumble, the taste of iron causing me to cough and choke on the vile air I did not wish to inhale.

"I-It buurns! Please Shirogane, kill me!"

A scream shatters its throat, and my ears as well. Shaky fingers dig into the solid dirt to propel me upwards, bringing another small shape into my sight. The brown dragon, its facial features distorted and out of order, sliding away from their rightful positions, its tiny arms bending backwards, its wings and tail melting and fusing like plastic near fire. All of its body turning to goo with bubbles gurgling up, ending like some toxic tincture in a witch's cauldron, with both eyes still staring, still crying within the brew.

Tightly closing my eyes, shielding both ears with my hands, I run and run while enduring the boiling sensation building on my stomach. Colliding against a stonewall, placing my hand onto its rugged surface and using it as a guide, I slowly walk forward.

Until I step on something, something that makes a disgusting squelching sound, something that is rather firm under my heel.

"Nooo! I don't wanna be eaten!"

Faint figments of pink fur float in the air, a small and tiny paw severed off lays under my feet as I lift it off, along the tail and head of a fish, and an amalgamation of meat, bone, pink hair, and ligaments fused together into a regurgitated ball that oozed spit.

Unable to hold it in anymore, the burning liquid pours off from my lips. Again, and again, the back of my head pulsating my vision unfocused. The pit of my throat wrings itself yet dares me to continue gagging, my lower back tense and hurting every time I try and continue to release the seemingly unending vile that comes up from inside.

It hurts, and burns, merely breathing causes the reflex to restart, and I can barely remain standing. Gasping for dear life, massaging my neck, I drag myself away from the atrocities.

Only to find a yellow ribbon peeking out from under some large iron beams, red fur dirtied with blood, sinking further into the ground.

"Good morning, Shirogane-kun."

"Huh? Is that… S-Sumika-san?! A-Ah… N-No… W-Why is-" Yet, as I walk closer, an image flashes in my eyes.

Something that resembles the auditorium, a large structure on the ground as a few adults. tell the younger ones to disperse. And how a few comment that limbs do not bend in that direction, just as the remains of the red kitty in front of me are at the moment, a puppet subjected to the cruel performance of having its every joint imitate a spinning top.

Closing my eyes tightly and feeling them searing with heat, I rush away from the gore as my stomach swirls in sickness again, rising up my constricting throat with the haste of a snail.

Is this a memory from Takeru-san's last experience? Is this why he so desperately wants to save both worlds? Is this what can happen in his world if he doesn't fix the divergences of the conductor?

…

Then, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell us? Or did the Professor always knew… and still pushed you to inherit these memories? Knowing you have no choice but to rely on her… and yet, you still try your best everyday…

Trying to make haste, my feet trip and push off sunken parts in the dirt, sending me forward while I try to backpedal. Both legs stop synchronizing, I end up stumbling. Supporting my fall with both hands, which then claw at the dry soil as a cold gale blows along further thunders, I can only cry and shake.

"Why didn't I feel this before? Why did I not notice anything?"

…Is this my fault, then? For stirring what trauma laid buried deep within his mind? Panting for a moment, I look back at what abominable spectacle was in the ravine, covering my mouth as I sluggishly raise back up.

"…So this is what can be happening in his world right now? All of them, dying all over again in such cruel a manner? If so then, why couldn't I feel your sorrow for so long? Why didn't you say anything… A moment, if the animals are here then… That Takeru-san that was walking with me is the one seeing, the one recalling these memories. But these are your memories, which means… that Royal Guard was you all along? B-But the one with me so far was supposed to be this world's Takeru-san, how did- This can't be. Even if the memories are trying to assimilate themselves, that other Takeru-san shouldn't be seeing- No, wait a moment…"

Let's say, for an argument's sake, that for some reason this world's Takeru-san could in fact be the same entity I know as 'Takeru-san'. The Takeru-san I know always keeps himself in check, because he remembers most things about his life and wants to restore some small measure of happiness to our reality. His dream and oath to forge a world with zero wars, in honor of all the comrades and beloved ones he has lost, is what fuels his unyielding resolve. That's what the Professor told me before we started these recovery sessions, that his will to see his goals through would allow him to connect with some of the memories despite any recoil from my psychic invasion upon his mind. And that focus on the good things he wants to bring about is what probably obscured his deeper, darker thoughts from my everyday scans.

But if, somehow, there were no two Takeru-sans and they were one and the same person… assuming that is true, in the case that he were to lose his memories… and started to see them in the form these nightmares are taking… while lost in the war-torn reality of the invasion-

He wasn't angry or wrathful, yet.

Yet, thinking twice, he looked as he was right before our last recovery session, after our morning battle in the Mindseeker.

And what's most dear to him, the one thing that could more easily send him into blind hatred?

A thunder echoes, rain starts to fall. Gently at first, until the wind starts to howl once more. Enduring the beating of the falling downpour, the warning of the reddening thunders, I rush out of the ravine, my feet almost slipping on the muddy soil.

Shielding my face with both arms does little to prevent the incoming gale from almost send me recoiling backwards, the droplets hitting all over me, almost piercing through. Sliding both feet, mire and dampness filling both shoes, I press on and call out yet my scream is obscured by the rumble of red lightning. It all weights on my back, as if now I were garbed in a metallic attire, to the point of almost failing to produce a step forward.

Another thunderbolt falls, yet this time a shadow is cast. Lowering my arms, I discern a large structure in the distance. The moment I step forward, the ground sinks. Carried by the downstream current, I can only scream. Rolling and sinking, limbs flailing about, I manage to hold onto a rock.

And gasping for air as I raise myself, another thunder echoes, its crimson light bathing the area. Again, a shadow is cast. Looking up, I finally take it wholly, a large statue that kept on receiving repeated thunderbolts.

A single spiky horn raising to the Heavens in defiance as it stuck its chest outwards, as if provoking a strike on itself. Despite the gesture, the statue lies armless on its posture. Not by damage done through the elements but by design, if I base myself on the lack of damage on its body.

As I observe the monument as its struck by further lightning, something else catches my attention. The shape that crawls behind the shadow of the statue, a shape I recognize. Screaming his name, Takeru-san doesn't seem to hear me. Fighting the stream for a moment, my fingers claw at the stone to not have me washed away. Just a little further… If I can at least swim to the shore-

Another thunder, another thunder, the statue begins to falter, to catch on fire. The extra illumination reveals fangs, maws extended in threat. Large wolves rove closer, excessive claws protruding from their paws, jaws bending further than normal and revealing a twister of fangs, another maw within the maw. Glistening like fine steel, thin eyes which remain locked on the crawling shape of Takeru-san as they slowly approach. Within the cracks in between their ribs, further mouths open and shriek violence, rampant enough to brave the downpour and the stream. And as they come closer, it becomes clear to me. Their furs are colored…

…in a strong royal purple and an equally firm indigo blue.

Something tugs at my elbow, dragging me into the stream. Yanking my arm from the water, a thin, skeletal hand remains attached to it. A cold creeping feeling surrounds my arm as a mangled, distorted face gazes at me from under the filthy water, staring into my soul.

"…Pull the trigger."

"A-Aaaah! No, don't touch me!" Leaving the rock, fighting the stream, I try and swim to the other side.

Pressure on my ankles, needles or knives sinking into my arms, entangling into my arms, pulling at my hair, water hitting my chin, slipping into my mouth and nose, everything growing fuzzy for a moment.

"Pull the trigger!"

Hurting the inner side of my lips in a moment of hesitation as the water overtakes me, I thrash and fight the hold, a raking pain on my bottom legs and upper arms. Gasping, swimming to the shore, my hands slip as I raise myself, sending my face to meet the mud. The rain keeps on falling, making my balance hard to regain. And while those ghostly wails continue within the river, another rumbling thunder echoes above.

And this time, I see fire. A horn breaking, falling apart and making tsunamis on the mud, the tail end of the ripples reaching my hands. Fire over the armless statue that's beginning to fall apart, into the mud, away from sight.

Immediately after, a loud roar breaks through the rain, leaving the droplets floating in midair. Two large shadows rush to us, large enough to obscure the horizon and part of the sky from view. I blink, yet the sight does not change. Now that they've come closer, I can clearly make out the patterns to the fur of the wolves, of the blue and purple beasts. The circular sigil on their foreheads, a crimson circle with slow waves outwards, a small square with a horizontal line in the middle. From said sign, from the flesh underneath it to be more precise, chains and ropes come pouring out, at parts flesh, at others steel, at times both mingle together. Rippling through the skin, entangled together as if overgrown roots they were, pulsating, twitching in a rhythm.

The large tendrils spread outwards, reaching the shadows that closer come. The wolves which overflow the area, wolves in dark, in golden, in gray, in red. The chains fuse with their joints and limbs, the sleek metallic shape of their claws and fangs glistens as the surface of a lake under the moonlight. All of them do not even bother to sheathe their jaws for a second, tongues running down to the ground as they howl, as they surround the breaking statue.

Those eyes, the lost downwards spiral within them all, the scattered monochrome patters in it somehow remind me of the sight in televisions when the signal is lost. Blank, vacant, wordlessly opposing.

"W-Wait! You two… You're the little puppies, aren't you?!" I scream, almost slipping face first into the mud, yet the two large wolves do not even acknowledge my presence.

All of them pace forward as the protective glow of the statue fades to the dark, towards the groggy, shaky shape of Takeru-san.

Whose dress is torn, exposing his skin, claw marks all over him.

Whose knees and legs quiver and stall a fall, barely hanging on as the downpour resumes its assault.

Who remains standing, shielding… the two hurt bunnies behind him, which lay unmoving by the statue's remains, surrounded by purple flowers.

"Takeru-san, run! Don't fight!" I yell, trying to hold onto the larger wolves.

But my fingers meet the air, I walk through them, meeting the mud.

Why?

Why now?!

A shriek, followed by many howls. Stomping on the ground, along more red lightning.

Seeking his shape, I catch Takeru-san within the stream of bones, fur and violence. Clutching a sword tightly, jumping onto a wolf, preying upon its sight, forever blinding it. Jaws which part to swallow, steel that cuts through. Flanks that are devoured, ripostes delivered to give eternal rest to the beast. Dodging the falling red bolts that seek his shape, the few that dare to come close are dealt quickly.

Yet the claw marks only increase in number, overgrown roots crawling all over the soil that is his skin. And yet, as the blue wolf blasts towards him, there is no movement. Takeru-san is sent to collide against the remains of stone, by the rabbits' side.

"Precisely," a voice echoes through the storm, "you have a duty and an obligation to serve."

It stalls my walk, for I recognize the voice, the arrogant and dismissive tone.

Another thunder echoes, deflected by the sword. Now clearly limping, all Takeru-san can do is swing wildly, a mere detriment to the surrounding horde. Until the purple wolf howls, raising its head, causing its chains to twitch like veins. Causing geysers of blood to burst from all other wolves, all shrieking as they charge forth.

"You must never waver, when it is time to bloody your own hands."

Fangs meet the arm, the sword is lost, trampled by the blue wolf. Chains of red lightning shackle, shock Takeru-san, hitting him over and over again, Mjolnir incarnate.

Rushing to his side, again moving through all this madness, once more that smell reaches me. The scent of rotten flames, of burning. Smoke raising from his dress, hiccuping on the ground, legs unresponsive. Clawing at the soil, still trying to stand up.

"Takeru-san, please stop! You have to wake up!"

Slowly cradling him, moving him upwards, I shield him with all of myself, while trying to open his tightly closed mouth, to allow him to breathe, somehow. Now that we're in contact, the wolves seem to have taken notice of me.

Circling around us, they sniff the air, those tempestuous, ravenous eyes stare at me, unblinking under the rain.

"Why are you doing this?! You were the puppies, weren't you? You're supposed to be on his side!"

Another thunder, more red bolts fall around us.

Jaws that part wide, another howl. Both of them roar in unison, as if mocking me.

All of a sudden, it feels cold. A brief contact makes me shiver, and I see that… the rain now turned to snowing.

"You shall be stripped off the honor of carrying my House's emblem on your person," a voice which rivals what the gale sends into my face.

"I know not who you speak of. Lower your armaments, otherwise I shall be forced to subdue you in them Empire's name," again, distant, indifferent, frosting.

All of their vacant eyes focus on me, beyond the storm. Like stars in the night, yet out for blood. Howling, growling, getting closer and closer. Erratically, Takeru-san tries to stand only to fall face first into the piling snow. Crawling, seeking to shield both bunnies. Both have a wounded leg, unable to run away. What would happen to me, to him, to us if these beasts harm us? Would the nightmare end? Where would his mind go to afterwards?

…Why am I even wasting time, asking pointless questions?

Gripping my knees, I stand. A quiver, a shiver, a step forward. Staring upwards, covered wholly by the cast shadow of the beasts. Looking into their eyes, not a trace of the puppies remains. To try and reason with beasts would be a waste of time.

"Takeru-san, you have to wake up," shaking his arm, he remains clutching the rabbits to his chest. "Please, come to your senses! This isn't real anymore!"

Snow is crushed, a loud stomp right behind me. Shadows covering us both. Turning back, a blur of steel and purple.

Pain, all over my face.

Coldness, I'm suddenly buried in the snow.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts… Air leaves me, I can't see well with one eye anymore. It's cold and yet it burns, so much. Hair gets stuck in between my fingers, stuck by freezing redness to the skin.

Another stomp. Another shadow above. Constricted by snow, by the blasting of the howling, I cannot move.

Only to move my sight, find the end of a throat, rows of iron fangs already descending upon me.

Is this… Am I going to… to what?

If I perish within a mind, during a scan… What happens to me?

Am I… about to…

Another howl, another stomp.

Followed by heat, heat holding me in its grip. Followed by whimpers in pain. By the mist clearing, the snow melting apart as the heatwave of the impact makes my hair flutter, everything else raising in the cyclone.

As the purple wolf is sent flying upon the surrounding hound, pieces of teeth, patches of fur drizzling from above and near me along tiny snow crystals, I look up.

And find a back littered with scars standing in front of me.

"…Fuck off, you ain't taking any more lives tonight." Hoarse, rough, a subdued war-cry.

"…T-Takeru-san?"

Butterflies flicker about him, sparks of cerulean, will-o-wisps in black. Wounds reopened, or rather… wounds that never seem to have healed burn. The hound roars, trespassing our personal space yet not daring to fall to lethality. Only then, as the fire Takeru-san emits clears the fogginess, do I see another flicker of blue, more subdued, more faint, lying behind all the beasts. Shredding its lungs, another wolf roars, the sigil in the larger wolves burns, causing them to spasm. Followed by manic cries, the chains regressing into their skulls, splintering part of it.

"It is all for the greater good, for the sake of the Empire."

"Don't fuck with me… Where's the mercy in this? You motherfucking sons of an eldritch-"

"Takeru-san?" I tentatively ask, grasping, pulling his wrist, halting his raising screaming. My hand flinches away, as if touching a boiling teapot. "Is that you?" Getting closer, enduring the heat, gripping his shoulder then one of his cheeks I look into his eyes. Into the face of the Takeru-san I know… except with way longer hair, way bigger eyebags.

"Huh?" He blinks, going wide eyed as the frown he had ingrained melts away. "Ka… sumi?"

A sharp howl, rumbling on the ground.

Jaws that lunge forth, eyes glistening through the dark.

A strong push on my body, my back hits the snow again.

And all I can do is watch, watch as the maw of the blue beast fully closes all over Takeru-san.

The fangs move up, and down, and up, and there's a crunching sound, something being grind to nothingness, and a thread of liquid coming out from in between the jaw.

"Ah… A-Ahhhhh! N-No, this is-"

"For the greater good."

"It's a lie! I- I was only-"

"For the thousand years to come, for pebbles to turn to a mountain range!"

Hurrying to my feet, banging onto the monster, on its eye, on its jaw, it merely moves its head roughly, again causing me to stumble to the ground.

"No… Why? Takeru-san… This can't-"

"Shut up…"

"Huh?"

"Shut up… with your bullshit…"

Smoke, overflowing the jaw. Fire raising from within the eyes, searing the blue beast. Until it all catches fire, engulfed wholly by a dark blaze. Erupting into tiny giblets, nothing is left. Only a shape standing amidst the fire… or perhaps, causing it. That back full of scars, those eyes branded in red.

"It is the duty of those who must pierce the Heavens, the duty of-"

"Shut up! You and your holier-than-thou act of superiority can go to hell! If I'll lose it all, I'll struggle to the very end! I'll despair after I'm dead!"

The cape of blaze becomes a trench coat, perhaps a cloak. Engulfed entirely, the black fire shines above the snow with an uncanny glow. As if taking a fighting stance, a rapier of fire he produces, he forces the blaze to be.

"You'll never take their future, never again! I'll burn your salvation to cinders first!"

Something grabs me, everything spins. Yet, it feels warm. Feeling his hair graze my face, the bunnies on one shoulder, the howl and the rumbling approach us, the echo of the thunders. Striking all around us in a pattern, growing ever closer, a cage of bolts. Merely raising a hand, he stops the chains of red lightning, bending them into a leash, a whip with which to strike at the beasts, ripping them in twain. The lightning seems to fizzle, to try and escape his grasp, he rasps a scream, binding it to his hand, chaining it into a weapon that shrieks and sparks in place.

Collapsed Gekishins flicker in my sight as he rushes through the horde, through flesh and bones like a cannon ball. Desperate cries for help, explosions, silence. Almost as what's around, as the skulls, the eyes are sunk in before fire takes them to pointless ash.

"I cannot force any soldier to depart to the frontline, but I won't refuse any volunteers," low and dull, a voice tells. Brown eyes, long frilly hair, the draconian composure of the mask she endows during the training drills absent completely.

Cascades of metal, of bones. A bonanza of fire, treating the large beast as if mere paper, like when the Professor discards failed approaches. Crushed tightly, into nothing but an amorphous ball. Tastes like iron in my lips, bile again rising to my throat.

"Please, do think on the future. It is imperative that the equipment is shipped posthaste. Furthermore, are you not aware of the Professor's research? As the rulers, it is our duty to safeguard our people," composed as a pond, someone tells. A face mired by static, the recollection halted by loud clanging of steel.

The large wolf by the back finally decided to come meet us… purple fur amidst its claws, munching something, spitting out a bone. Giving out a howl, pieces of flesh raise, swirl into a vortex, the blue beast regains form, stitched together, the tendrils now binding it to the other wolf, of a clearer blue.

"Takeru-san… Stop, please… Let's go back home…"

Pain in my throat, searing pain. Coughing, out of air amidst the heat, the swirling in my eyes as he draws circles, spinning and spinning, stretching the blaze outwards, cutting their ranks in half. A ballad of revenge, a dance of carnage, too fast for me to make anything out besides the silhouettes that are torn, and crushed, and ashen in mere moments, all of the wolves crying out in pain. Grunting like a beast, Takeru-san gives no quarters nor mercy. Taking in a sharp breath, enduring the kindling of the heat on my palms, I try and reach out to his face, to rouse him to wakefulness.

Yet, I find dampness.

Tears.

And now, his screams finally make sense.

The rocket that departs once more reaches my sight, the hateful facade of the azure eyes, the visage of the wasteland filled by that giant orb of dark.

And a small hand, wavering like candle by a window, raising to his face. A worn down smile, a face drenched in redness.

Followed by an unending, outstretched, louder by the second flat-line.

"It's not goodbye, Kasumi. If you want to see me again then, let's say 'See you later'."

Piercing in my heart, something chokes me. Constricting the base of my throat, until lights sway and dance in my sight. Unable to withstand the fire anymore, lightheaded and dizzy, my fingertips slip, the warmth leaves me, cold wind envelops my face, I fall. Fall and fall, the specter of black fire continuing his rampage unimpeded. Wicked wings of warfare searing the disaster of a battlefield, departing to the distance as the horde gives chase and devours the shadow of the pyre.

I can only remain in place on the ground, rubbing my chest, the emptiness which now rests in me. In silence, watching the clouds of magma depart beyond the horizon.

Slowly, my breathing returns to normal. Running a hand over my legs, standing up and finding no burns, my palpitations are still lodged at the base of my throat, the warmth that enveloped me, Takeru-san's warmth, still lingers in my fingertips.

But what was that? Why such pain over a hand stroking his cheek? Everything else, I can make a case. Yet, all of those memories, it is understandable he'd be pained, shocked… But why won't he come to his senses? Why won't he wake up?

"…What are you looking for, Takeru-san? Why do you refuse to end this dream?"

Under the hazy mist that falls upon me, I walk after the trail of fire. For how long, I do not know. Simply replaying those moments in my mind, the clarity of what was probably Iceberg, grants credence to his refusal to surrender. The blazing anger did not belong with such emotions, however. The almost suicidal manner of his prior actions, shielding the bunnies and myself despite the damage he suffered, would align more with the desperation of those memories.

"Did the blue beast attacking him caused a buried memory to come forth?"

Then, what can I do? Should I… give up? No, he recognized me! If I hadn't been so weak, I wouldn't have fallen off. But then, what was that sound? Someone… dying? Why did I sense that parting line from within his heart, then? Can I even do anything for him at this point?

Gradually coming to a halt, rubbing the small scar on my left cheek, merely touching it stings. Looking around, the traces in the skyline are barely visible. The fog is falling down heavily again, I can barely see a few feet ahead of me. Even if I get to his position…

A noise, like a can rolling on the ground.

Followed by small pebbles falling down.

Glancing around, a shadow approaches me from behind, from a blank point caused by another ruin. Yet, my tight breathing eases up as I recognize the intruder. The fox from before, the representation of the Professor, paces towards me.

"So it was you. You scared me, you know."

Slowly pacing towards me, circling around me, the fox gives out a small growl. Tail and ears up and in attention, eyes twinkling within the mist, never leaving mine. It grows closer, growls turning to screeches.

"H-Huh? Why?" Stepping back does nothing to douse its apparent ill mood, it continues to approach me, back arched and at the ready to pounce. "S-Stop… Professor, calm down please! I'm not your enemy!"

Ears twitch, it tilts its head. Sitting on the ground, the fox stares at me for a moment. Coming closer, at a snail's pace, sniffing my hand, circling around me, it then gives out a small cackle, wagging its tail.

"Why were you so upset? Oh! Right, weren't you guiding Takeru-san somewhere?" I ask, its eyes glisten.

Letting out another cackle, it taps my leg then starts to walk back the way it came. It looks back after a moment, growling. So it wants me to follow after it? As soon as I do its complains cease, and like before it remains a few steps ahead of me. Still, is this safe? Wasn't Takeru-san following the fox yet end up surrounded anyways? After all… just like how the puppies turned to beasts, the fox might actually be nothing like the Professor. What should I-

A chill down my spine, followed by a sharp growl. The fox's staring, unblinking, showing its fangs. In the reflection of the sockets I could see a spiral of shadows triumphing over the mist, analyzing me whole. Only now do I notice, there are a few small patches of fur in the fox's jaw. Little poofs of white and black. Another growl, low, follows, a reflection of myself, only slumped and cold, eyes blank as paper, coming up in those small, violet eyes.

"Ah, um… You will really guide me to Takeru-san's side, right… Professor?"

Apparently pleased with the word, it gives out a small, inoffensive bark as its tail wiggles. Yet, the coldness of the stare does not thaw, not until I resume my walking. Cackling a bit, seeming more than happy, shining through the humid haze, it resumes its guidance. So all I can do is rub my nose, clean it from the humidity's effect and walk, walk after the fox.

"You really… will take me to Takeru-san, won't you?"

It looks back, seeming to smile as its facial features relax, then it starts cackling as it runs circles around me for a moment, before marching onward once more in little hops.

Sigh… I can only hope, that Takeru-san remains safe from whatever plagues his mind. And that you truly take me to him, Professor. As if reading my mind, the fox looks back and cackles again. Even its mannerisms are alike… Perhaps, there was some truth to the nickname.

The clouds part, the mist gradually clears. Revealing a large expanse of wasteland, yet unlike before, there are no buildings or anything else here. Nothing, except something at the very edge of the horizon, something shrouded by the night.

"Is that where you're taking me?" The fox scratches its head, wagging its tail, resuming its walk.

So, taking in a sharp breath, I follow after it, back to the wasteland. Looking up as a breeze blows, I see the glimmering stars, the moonlight basking onto me.

The pleasant light… of a crescent moon, with an inverse cross encrusted on its lower half.