Author's Note: Here we are at the season finale, my dear wastelings. And whoa! Look at what we have here. There are so many ideas that I have been sitting on for quite some time now. The ideas just kept coming for the scenes as I wrote this. There is so much talking going on in this halo. There's seems to be so much to say here. This has been a crazy season. This is the longest season I have written to date. I am already chopping at the bit to write the next season. For now, there will be another omake in March and an AO3-exclusive side story in March-April. Speaking of omake, if you read the omake, Black Snow, you might catch onto a certain character in the Russian parts. You will have to stick around and take a guess who it is. For now, enjoy the season finale. I will see you in August!

Halo Twenty-Nine: Widow:

October 17th, 2015

-8:28 a.m.-

Etsuko knocked on Kitano's office door.

"Enter," the therapist said. The doctor opened the door.

"I'm coming in," she said, poking her head inside. Kitano sat at his desk. He glanced up at her.

"Yes?" he asked. The doctor showed him the news on her phone. Kitano looked at the screen. The article was about a wriggling pile of white fleshy mass washed up on the shore of Seychelles.

"Do you know what this is?" Etsuko asked. Kitano looked up at her.

"How many of these have been found?" he asked.

"About nine now," she said. "There are rumors about a tenth one found in Okinawa." Kitano put down his pen.

"That is the ear of Gabriel," he said. The doctor gave him a strange look on her face.

"You mean that Gabriel?" she asked.

"Yes," Kitano said. "Bits of his body are washing up all over the world." He noticed the curious and concerned look on her face.

"How long before they come together?" Etsuko asked.

"Mam will have to collect them first," Kitano said. "I can't really say at the rate they are turning up. Knowing them, they are out to collect the pieces that have turned up. We should see one of them in Okinawa in a few days." He pointed at the screen.

"However, no matter how many pieces they collect, they will still be missing one key piece," the therapist added. He didn't need to say it out loud.

"Do you know where that is?" Etsuko asked.

"No," Kitano said, shaking his head. "But Chirin does."

Mikado sneezed in his apartment.

"Are you okay?" Hikira asked.

"Yeah," her master said. She tilted her head.

"Was someone talking about you?" she asked.

"I hope not," he said. Mikado looked out the window. He couldn't get rid of that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it might have something to do with the dreams that he keeps having. Mikado looked down at his phone. Might as well check on Masaomi again.

Shizuo wandered around the city. All he could see was the color red. Nothing seemed familiar to him. He wasn't underground anymore. No more harsh lights. No strange hum. He wasn't chained down to anything anymore. He still couldn't tell what time of day it was. There was no one in sight. That strange boy left him hours ago. He didn't even say a word. The minotaur was just left to wander around the city.

Shizuo sniffed the air. What was that? Smelt like… copper… cooper mixed with iron… and… milk? The minotaur turned his head.

What was that?

The minotaur turned and wandered off elsewhere.

The police were at the Asahara compound. They had to keep the members out. Nakamura rubbed his forehead.

"Geez," he muttered. "We weren't fast enough, Hisakawa." Oh well. He couldn't focus on that. He had work to do. Nakamura turned back to the body. Let's see… This was now…

"This makes heresy, right?" he asked. One of the other crime scene investigators looked up.

"What was that sir?" they asked.

"The next circle of Hell," Nakamura said. "After greed comes heresy, yes?" The CSI took a moment to think.

"That sounds right," they said. The detective took a moment to think.

"So… the next circle is violence," he said.

"I guess," the CSI said. Nakamura took a moment to think. He turned back to the body nailed to the cross.

The members of the cult were questioned. Some refused to talk. Not trusting of the police, huh? Even in death, Murata had a hold on his flock. They didn't know much anyway. Even Chisa couldn't give them anything useful.

The body was taken to the medical examiner's office.

"Cause of death was a heart attack," Chikako said. Nakamura gave her a strange look.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," she said. "All of the wounds on his wrists, feet, side, and back were prior to his death. Crucifixion alone is deadly. The long and the short of it is that the weight of your body nailed to the cross will make it hard to breathe. This will lead to the victim suffocating with loss of body fluids and multiple organ failure."

"Is it worse to be crucified upside down?" Nakamura asked.

"Oh yes," she said. She looked down at the body.

"In this case," Chikako said. "His heart had to work harder than usual. Couple that with suffocation from his weight and being upside down, his heart gave out."

"Damn!" the detective said.

"Yeah," the medical examiner said.

"But why crucify him upside down?" Nakamura asked. "Was that to torture him more?"

"Not necessarily," Chikako said. "Are you familiar with the death of Saint Peter?"

"No…" Nakamura said. He blinked, looking confused.

"In short, Peter didn't feel himself worthy enough to be crucified like Jesus. So, they turned the cross upside down," the medical examiner said. The detective took a moment to think.

"So what does Saint Peter have to do with heresy?" he asked. Chikako shrugged.

"You've got me there," she said. "Maybe the killer was saying Murata isn't Jesus?"

"Hm…" was all the detective could say.

She sat in the stall of the train station bathroom. She pulled out her phone and typed up her message.

"If you try to steal my kills again, I am going to freeze you as part of the last leg of my mission. Got it?"

She smirked to herself before she hit send. She got up and walked out of the stall. She still had work to do after all. Best to keep up appearances to avoid suspicions.

"Do you know who this is?" Michiko asked as she held up a picture.

"That's Simon," Masaomi said.

"And this person?"

"The headless rider."

"And who is this?"

"Shizuo."

"And this one?"

"Izaya. He pisses me off for some reason."

"Yeah, he has that effect on everybody." Michiko turned to the next picture. "And who is this?"

"Why that's my good old buddy, Mikado."

"And who is this?"

"That's Anri. How could I ever forget her boobylicisousness?"

Michiko rolled her eyes as she moved to the next picture. "And who is this?"

"That's Kadota."

"And who is this?"

"That's Erika."

"And who is this?"

"Walker."

"Who is this?"

"Saburo, the van guy."

"Who is this?"

"Tatsuya."

"Who is this?"

"Chiharu."

"And who is this?"

"Noriko."

"And who is this?"

"Yatabe."

"And who is this?"

"Takiguchi."

"Good, good," Michiko said. Her heart sank at what was coming next. Even though she already knew the outcome, something deep inside of her hoped that it wasn't the case. Michiko pulled up the last picture in the pile.

"Who is this?" she asked as she held up a picture of Saki. Masaomi froze. He tried to think, but Michiko could see that he was coming up blank.

"I don't know it is," he said, shaking his head. Michiko felt her heart sinking.

Mikado sat on the couch, watching them. This exchange alone told him that something was wrong. Deep down inside, he knew that it was going to get worse.

-Moscow, Russia-

3:00 a.m.

A muscled old man sat in the darkness of his apartment. He too heard the news about the wriggling pile of white fleshy mass washed up on the shore of Wy.

"Looks like you are running out of time, comrade," he said, looking at his phone. How long would it be before he would turn to him to stop this game?

"I think it's about time that paid him a little visit," he said. Would he be happy to see him? He doubted it, but he wouldn't have much of a choice soon, now would he?

-Ikebukuro, Tokyo, Japan-

Mikado sneezed again at Michiko's apartment.

"You okay, man?" Masaomi asked. The tadpole looked up at his friend.

"Yes," he was quick to say. He didn't sound too convincing, however. Maybe that was because Mikado couldn't shake the feeling that something had caught onto to what was going on.

"Someone's probably talking about you," Masaomi said.

"Oh…" Mikado said. For some reason, he began thinking about him. No. He didn't want to have to turn to that. That would mean that things were really fucked. They needed to course change ASAP.

"Are you sure you're okay, man?" Masaomi asked.

"No," Mikado said, shaking his head. He turned and wandered outside.

"Mikado?" his best friend asked. Michiko put her hand on his shoulder. Masaomi turned to see her shaking her head. The boy turned as the door swung closed.

Noriko sat in a room in the dark. A hand rested on her head. She didn't look up.

"Why does it hurt so much?" the girl asked.

I know.

Noriko looked up at the empty space above her. A tear ran down her cheek. Too many memories started to cloud her head. She was once a wife and mom. She used to be happy with her family. That all changed when her son died. From there, the misery and heartbreak became endless. Noriko saw herself die many times. Sometimes, it was by her own hand. Sometimes, Makoto had his hands wrapped around her neck. Noriko remembered that killing him in return. So much blood had been split between them. She remembered all of the suffering. All of the times she wanted to die. All of the trips into madness.

Noriko didn't want to see how worn down she looked now. Hence why she started covering up all mirrors around her. Despite this, Noriko knew that she was starting to go down a dark path. It had started to show too. When was the last time she had slept?

She drew her knees to her chest.

"Artemis," the girl whimpered.

Yes?

"Is this my stations of the cross?" Noriko asked. A hand rested on her head.

Sure…

"How long is this going to hurt me?" she asked.

I don't know.

Noriko started whimpering as tears filled her eyes. A pair of arms pulled her to a chest. The girl broke down crying.

"I don't want this," she said.

I know. But you have to get through the worst of it first. This has to be done.

"I hate it," Noriko said in a whisper.

I know. I know. But you have to do this. What all do you remember?

"I was married and I had a son," Noriko said.

Yes.

"My son died, didn't he?" she asked.

I'm so sorry.

"No…" She shivered as a hand patted her on the head. Noriko tried to cling to the empty air. She could feel something, but not really.

What else?

That question made Noriko shiver. She began to see white walls. There was a window. She saw herself sitting on a bed, facing the wall. The door opened behind her. There was someone talking to her. He walked up to her side. He showed her what looked like another newspaper article. He's speaking to her, but she doesn't hear what he is saying.

Noriko started biting on her thumb as her stomach turned. She started moaning something under her breath. A hand shook her on the shoulder.

Noriko?

"I was in that place, wasn't I?" she asked.

Yes.

"Mako-kun put me there?"

Yes.

"Why would he do that?"

Your son had died. You were sinking into depression. He didn't know how to help you.

Noriko's heart sank. She hiccupped a little sob. The hand patted her on the head.

What else do you remember?

Noriko shook her head. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

A hand caressed her cheek as a thumb wiped away a few.

I guess that will be all for now. You might have to take your time. I don't like it either, but you have to remember who you were.

Suddenly, Noriko stood up.

Where are you going?

The girl walked over to the closed door before turning and looking at the empty space across the room.

"There is something I have to talk to Mako-kun about," she said. "I don't know if he will be honest with me or not, but I have to know." Noriko opened the door and walked out of the room.

I wish you luck then.

Kitano was at his desk when heard a knock on his door.

"Enter," he said. He looked up as the door opened. Osamu poked his head inside.

"I'm coming in," he said.

"Yes?" Kitano asked. Osamu closed the door behind him.

"The shipments are ready to go out tomorrow morning," he said.

"Okay…" the older man said.

"What's going to happen next?" Osamu asked.

"That remains to be seen," Kitano said. He raised an eyebrow at his colleague. The men let the silence hang there for a few seconds. Kitano didn't have to ask what his colleague wanted. The younger man sighed.

"Look, when do we get to kill Orihara?" Osamu asked. The therapist lowered his pen.

"Not yet," he said. The younger man frowned.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Why do you even keep that bastard around? We don't need him. We can gather information ourselves."

"I know," the therapist said.

"Then… why do we keep him around?" Osamu asked in a flat tone, narrowing his eyes.

"Have you ever worked with children?" Kitano asked.

"No," the younger man said.

"You see, Izaya is like a child," the therapist said. Osamu gave him an odd look.

"You're calling him by his first name now?" he asked.

"Can I please finish?" Kitano asked. The younger man put up his hands and tilted his head.

"Thank you," the therapist said. "As I was saying, Izaya is a like a child. Children do stupid things, but they themselves aren't stupid. Give them half the chance and they will figure out a way to get what they want." Kitano leaned forward on his desk.

"We have to keep that child within our sights for the time being," he said. "It's too risky to have him out on his own when this game is heating up."

"Why can't we just kill Orihara and get it over with?" Osamu asked.

"We will," Kitano said. "We just need to see if this latest development will take properly. If we take time to take Izaya off the playing field and something goes wrong, it's going to be nightmare to correct the problem and keep the game going at once." The therapist cleared his throat.

"The point is that this leg of the game is a priority for us," he said. "We can't do anything that could risk that until we are sure that this part takes. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Osamu said. "Excuse me." He bowed his head and walked out of the office. When he was gone, Kitano reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of black dice. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. The therapist smirked as he wrote down Izaya's whole name on a slip of paper. He took out two sticks of incense and let them with a match. Kitano held the paper over them and lit it. The scrap burned away into ashes in the air.

And now he just needed to wait.

-Moscow, Russia-

10:00 a.m.

The old man stared at his phone at the front door of his apartment. He thought it was about time to pay his old "friend" a visit. Well, he would be young now, wouldn't he? The old man chuckled to himself. His "friend" would be thrilled to see him, wouldn't he?

Well…

He debated on whether he should text his "friend" or not. Maybe he hadn't had his memory back or not. Or maybe he remembered everything now. Only one way to find out. The old man shrugged to himself. Might as well, he was going to need the old man now. His "friend" would deny it, but he would know the truth. Things were starting to get that bad. He at least had to know that. He had to.

The old man shoved his phone back into his pocket. Nah, it would be better to surprise him. He couldn't wait to see the look on his old "friend's" face. How much did he remember him? The old man would have to see. He chuckled to himself.

"This time should be interesting," he said under his breath. The old man gathered up what little luggage he had packed up and walked out the door.

-Ikebukuro, Tokyo, Japan-

Mikado sneezed again.

"You okay?" someone asked. The tadpole looked up to see Michiko looking at him. He shook his head.

"No," Mikado said. "I'm not okay."

"You're starting to remember more, aren't you?" Michiko asked. Mikado turned to her with a grim look on his face.

"Tell me what I need to do," he said. She didn't have to ask.

Noriko walked up to Makoto's door across the hall. This time, she didn't hesitate as she knocked on the door. She had to know the truth.

"Mako-kun? Are you awake?" she asked.

"Yes," a tired voice croaked. Noriko took a breath and opened the door. The room was dark. She tried to look around the small room.

"Why is it so dark in here?" Noriko asked. She reached over for a light switch.

"Don't!" Makoto said. The girl paused and turned her head.

"Please…" she heard him say. "Just don't." Noriko lowered her hand.

"Please tell me the truth," she pleaded. "I was your wife, wasn't I?" There came a pause. Noriko could feel her heart pounding against her chest. The silence was making it worse.

"Wasn't I?" she asked again.

"No," Makoto said.

"Please don't lie to me! I remember everything! Just tell me the truth!" Noriko pleaded with her voice trembling. Another pause sat heavy in the room.

"Yes," Makoto said. Noriko's legs felt like jelly as staggered backwards. She gulped as she got back her bearings.

"We had a son, didn't we?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Did the baby die?"

"Yes."

"How did he die?"

"I don't remember."

Noriko's stomach turned as that part of the story was still hazy in her mind. Despite this, the sorrow started to bubble in her heart. She pressed her hand to her chest.

"Have you killed me before?" she asked. There was another pause. Noriko already began to fear the worst. That silence made her want to scream at her to answer him. She started to remember all the times he would stay silent when he didn't want to tell her something. But he couldn't lie or stay silent. Not this time. She had to know the truth.

"Yes," Makoto said at last. Noriko thought that she was going to be sick.

"Have I killed you before?" she asked.

"Yes," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"How many times have you killed me?"

"I don't know. I've lost count by this point."

"How many times have I killed you?"

"More times than I could count."

Noriko felt a knot forming in her throat. Each answer sounded more painful than the last. She started to replay the moment she and him died. She had stabbed Makoto so many times. The reasons were usually lost her. There were times where she wouldn't leave the room, pretending that he was still alive. Her friends tried in vain to pull her back into reality, but she would go deeper into her madness and grief. Those times ended in Noriko killing herself when it became too much. On the other side of that, Makoto had wrapped his hands around her throat, squeezing the life out of her. Those reasons were lost to him too. Both had tears in their eyes. At one point, her last words were, "I love you" too him. Did they reach him? She would never know. Remembering all of this made her want to faint. She couldn't do that, not yet anyway.

There was still one more question she had to ask him.

"Why did you part me in that place?" she asked. The silence made her stomach turn. His silence was worse than his lies. She pleaded in her head for him to answer.

"What else could I do? I didn't have enough money to have someone look after you. Your church wasn't much help." His voice trembled as he spoke.

"I am so sorry. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose you too." Makoto sniffled.

"I… I…" he murmured. The whole time Noriko was walking closer to Makoto as they spoke. She reached out and touched his cheek. He couldn't see her in the darkness. Noriko sank down in front of him.

"Thank you," she said. Makoto sniffled.

"What happens now?" Noriko asked. He shook his head in the darkness. The man reached out and took her by the cheeks.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I never wanted this for you. I am so sorry for all of it." Noriko's eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could see that he was crying.

"Please don't do that," the girl whispered. "You're going to make me cry." Her eyes began to well up.

"When?" Makoto asked. Noriko looked up.

"When did you start to remember?" he asked.

"That day that audio file was uploaded to the Dollars chatroom," she said.

"What audio file?" Makoto asked. Noriko looked down at her hands.

"Artemis uploaded an audio file to reach out to me," she said. "The file was corrupted to everyone else. But Mikado and his friend, not Masaomi or Anri, got it cleaned up and had me listen."

"Artemis?" Makoto asked. "You're talking about her again?"

"She's my friend," Noriko said. The man sighed to himself as he shook his head.

"Even now you insist that she's real," he said.

"She is real!" she insisted. Makoto couldn't help but laugh. The girl pouted and smacked him on the side with her fist.

"Ow," he muttered. "Okay, okay. I believe you. She is real."

"Thank you," Noriko said. Makoto shook his head. For once, he smiled to himself. It was then another thought crossed the girl's mind.

"Are you going to try and kill me again?" she asked. There came that pause again. The girl felt her heart sinking again.

"I promise I won't if you promise you won't try to kill me too," Makoto said. Noriko perked up for once in a long while.

"I promise I won't," she said. The girl locked her pinky with his for good measure. Makoto tightened his own pinky around hers.

"I promise," he said back. They lingered with that pinky swear a few seconds longer before letting go. Somehow, Noriko felt a small amount of relief wash over her. She doubted that it would last long, however.

Will that promise hold in this round of the game? That answer remains to be seen for the time being.

Meanwhile, Artemis drew her bow to practice another shot.

"So this was your doing?" she heard behind her. The goddess didn't turn around.

"What is it to you, brother?" she asked.

"Our father will not be happy with you," he said. Artemis didn't answer as she let go of her bow. The arrow hits the bull's eye with ease. She picked up another arrow for her bow. She drew it with her eyes on the target.

"Artemis, you are playing a dangerous game," he said. His sister let the arrow fly again. She picked up a third one a drew back the quiver of her bow. The goddess muttered something under her breath.

"Excuse me?" her brother asked. Artemis kept her back to him as she raised her chin.

"I don't care anymore," she muttered. The goddess lowered her bow and arrow. She turned and walked away. Her brother shrugged as she walked by.

"Their funeral," he said to himself. Artemis had already walked out of the room.

Michiko found Masaomi sitting alone in the living room. He looked up when the door closed behind her.

"Yo," the boy said.

"Are you okay?" Michiko asked. Masaomi shrugged.

"I guess," he said. "I don't know." The girl came down and sat next to him.

"Welcome to our little club," she said. "We are the Club that turns back time to clean up the mess that Tandeki puts us all through. We're hoping not to get anymore members in it." She drew her knees to her chest.

"I never wanted this for you," she said. "I've tried to my best to keep you out of this." Masaomi turned his head.

"Have I done this before?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"How many times have I done this?" Masaomi asked.

"Once before," the girl said. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"I tried to so hard," Michiko said. "I really have."

"How bad is it going to get?" the boy asked. She turned and looked at him with a grim look on her face.

"Really bad," she said. "Luckily for you, you are still in the early stages. I hope, maybe foolishly, that it stays that way." All of those words out of her mouth felt so bitter was she said them. The more she looked at the boy, the more her heart sank. What would that vile woman take from him if he was forced to rewind time again? Michiko couldn't bring herself to think about that?

"What happens now?" Masaomi asked. Michiko sighed.

"I don't know," she said. "But I do know that we have to fight before the end comes for all of us again." Masaomi reached out and grabbed her hand. Michiko about jumped at first and then held his hand back. She took a deep breath as she looked out into the darkness.

-Moscow, Russia-

10:45 a.m.

The old man stood waiting in the airport. He already bought his ticket to Japan. Those tickets had become so expensive these days. Not like his bosses were going to ask any questions anyway. They let him do as he pleased anyway. He would be boarding in a few minutes.

The old man took out his phone. Let's see… It was 10:45 right now. It should be… about… 14:45 in Tokyo. A flight from Moscow to Tokyo would take about nine hours tops. He should be there at… The old man counted up in his head. He should be there about one in the morning.

He really should text his "friend". Nah, it would be much better to surprise him.

"Attention passengers! Flight SSJ 17 will now be boarding. Everyone gather up your things and move to your designated planes now!" a lady announced over the speaker. The old man smirked to himself.

"Heh," he said. He got up from his seat and walked down the hall to his plane.

-Ikebukuro, Tokyo, Japan-

Chisa sat in the chair in front of the vanity where Murata used to sit. She had a cold smirk on her face as she looked out of the mirror. She pressed her fingertips together. Hina and five of Murata's former bodyguards stood in behind her. The men and the girl all looked confused as to why they were there.

"Fellows, I think it is time for a change around here," Chisa said. "Minister Murata is dead. So are his way of doing things. Because of this, it is time for a change. We need a new leader. Our church cannot survive on its own." One of the bodyguards started to speak up, but she held up her hand.

"Ent! Silence!" she said. The bodyguard closed his mouth. Chisa lifted her chin.

"Now," she said. "I think it's time for a little… rebranding," she said.

"Rebranding, miss?" one of the bodyguards asked.

"Yes," she said. "The Asahara is dead. From the ashes, a new church will arise." Another bodyguard stepped forward with an angry look on his face.

"You can't do this! You're not in charge of us!" he shouted. "The minister didn't pick a successor! If he did, he wouldn't have chos-!" Suddenly, he started to choke as he floated off of the ground.

"Silence!" Chisa shouted. The other guards and Hina panicked. The woman had a cold smile on her face.

"In fact, I think we should start by taking out the trash… right now!" Chisa said. She turned her right wrist into a small circle. All five guards' necks were snapped and they fell to the floor. Hina backed up as she tried to look for the door to run away. Chisa looked up at her in the mirror.

"You," she said. The girl jerked her head upwards as she gulped. Chisa's smile softened.

"What is your name?" she asked. The teenager lifted her chin.

"H-H-H-Hina," she said. Chisa smiled and shook her head.

"Oh, no, no, no," she said. "This will not do. Here, calm down. Calm down and do this with me. Close your eyes." Hina froze. Something about her voice was so calm and relaxing. The girl slowly closed her eyes.

"Good. Now breathe in slowly," Chisa said. Hina took in a slow, deep breath.

"Not breathe out," the woman said. She watched the teenager breathe out in the mirror.

"Breathe in," Chisa said. The girl breathed in again.

"Breathe out," the college dropout said. Hina slowly breathed out again. She opened her eyes to see Chisa facing her now.

"Good, now listen," she said. "Everything is going to be okay. The church will see a new dawn." Chisa gently took the girl by the cheeks.

"You are going to be important," she said.

"I… I don't know what that means," Hina said.

"You will, in due time," Chisa said. She patted the girl on the cheek.

"Now, run along," she said. "But don't tell anyone about this meeting, okay?"

"Uh… okay," Hina said. "Excuse me." She bowed and walked out of the new minister's dressing room. Chisa settled back into her chair as the door closed behind the girl.

"This should get interesting," she said to herself in the mirror. The college dropout, no, new cult leader broke down cackling.