"What are you trying to do?" Umi asked the bounty hunter in a steady voice, dropping her left hand from the earpiece in her ear and tightening the grip of the fingers of her right around the curve of her bow. She took a step back, heartbeat pounding in her sternum and neck, and caught Maki's eye out of the corner of her own. The look on the redhead's face was impassive, her lips pressed together in a thin line, but Umi could just discern the concealed panic in her wide amethyst eyes.

In that moment, it hit her how utterly foolish it had been to allow her friend to come on this particular operation.

If we both make it out of this alive, I am never allowing this again.

Snorting as though she had said something ridiculous, Satou raised his weapon until it rested on his broad shoulders. "Haven't you figured it out yet, Sonoda? If that cure is effective, you will be ruining my lifestyle. If I told you you were taking away my meal ticket, I don't think you'd be very happy about it either."

As he spoke, Umi looked around, silently marking each point where one of the men crouched, sights locked. Including Satou, there were six bounty hunters present in the small, cramped room. There would be precisely little cover for the two of them if Satou and his friends decided to shoot now, and it came to her that she needed to buy more time until she could come up with a plan.

"Do the lives of the millions of citizens in Tokyo mean nothing to you?" she asked him, making an effort to keep her voice slow and calm as she raised her hand again to press her fingers against her earpiece once, hoping Eli could see a solution that she could not.

Satou laughed. "I wouldn't bother with that, if I were you." He jerked a finger at one of the men standing beside him. "Unfortunately, as talented as she is, it'll take Ayase more than a few minutes to get through our jamming tech. If you'd bothered to ask her to go out with me like I wanted, then maybe I would've shared them with her."

Umi froze. How does he know? She could not figure out where Satou would have gotten that information, unless he was much better connected than she had thought.

He smirked again. "But back to your question. Tell me, Sonoda—do you honestly think I care if some defenceless citizens fall victim to the Ceresis? The way I see it, the more Ceresis there are, the more money I'll be able to make." He paused. "Besides… have you thought about what you're doing? What… are the lives of the Edenra victims just collateral damage to you at this point? I thought you were better than that."

Quashing the flare of pain that the question wrought from somewhere deep in her chest, Umi grit her teeth together at the accusation. As twisted as the words were, they contained a partial truth that she could not deny.

"I don't have to justify myself to you," she said finally.

The grin on Satou's face widened. "Good. I'm not interested in hearing it anyways. After all, you'll be dead before anyone else has a chance to ask you again."

The moment the man raised a hand to signal to his squad members to attack, Umi drew an arrow from the sheath on her back, and fired.

The shot pierced one of the men crouching on the floor with his pistol raised in the neck, splattering crimson across the tiles. Satou howled in anger as she rolled to the right, ducking behind an overturned chair before she closed the distance between herself and Maki within three paces.

Forcing Maki's head down behind the singular desk at the back of the room with her free hand, Umi adjusted her position on her ankles as she reloaded her bow. She winced at the impact of bullets on the metal surface and knew that the integrity of the desk would not last long. She had to act before that.

There was no time to explain what she was doing to Maki—she had barely had time to come up with her current plan while Satou had been talking. "Do you trust me?" she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

For a brief heartbeat, Umi met Maki's defiant gaze, their amethyst depths burning.

Finally, the redhead nodded once. "Then stay put," Umi instructed her, poking her head around the corner of the desk and drawing her bow back.

The point of her arrow drove into the nearest bounty hunter's knee, not enough to eliminate him as a threat, but enough to incapacitate for the time being as he collapsed, dropping his pistol to grip his knee with both hands.

Reloading as she scrambled away from the desk, almost doubled over in an attempt to minimize the target painted on her back, Umi took aim at the man closest to Maki. Maki fired her gun the same time Umi released her grip on the string—the man stumbled backwards, unable to dodge both projectiles at once as Maki's shot hit him in the shoulder, tearing open a hole where his arm met his shoulder joint.

"You bitch," Satou growled at her as he charged towards her, large sword easily held in one hand. His momentum carried him forward far faster than Umi had anticipated it to.

Sidestepping away from him, the side of his blade sank into the metal wall of the room, ripping into it as easily as if it had been butter. He barely flinched when she buried an arrow into his left arm in an attempt to slow him down: he tore it out as effortlessly as if it had been nothing more than a splinter.

Digging into her pocket, she pulled out one of the items that Rin had insisted she take, even though they were not something she would use if she had the choice. Now she was glad that she had, because she had precisely little options left to her—especially since the remaining two men that were part of Satou's party were closing in on her, having identified her as the obvious threat.

Tearing off the safety of the grenade with her teeth, Umi let it drop onto the floor before rolling away as fast as possible.

Not fast enough.

The frag grenade exploded, shrapnel flying in every direction, and Umi fervently hoped that Maki had had the sense to listen to her instructions to stay behind the desk. She hissed as one of the pieces sliced through her leg, the blood that spilled past her ankle hot and sticky.

Pressing her free hand to her thigh, she risked glancing over the top of the chair that she had hidden behind, finding with a small degree of satisfaction that the two men who had been closing in on her had been caught in the blast.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and Umi narrowed her eyes as Satou heaved his bulk out from the corner where he'd taken cover from her explosive.

He wiped his mouth and face with a hand as he advanced towards her. "You think you're clever, don't you, Sonoda?" He almost bared his bloody teeth at her as he approached her, his uneven steps slow and deliberate on purpose.

Umi spared a second to check the hand that she had pressed to her leg, stifling the panic that rose in her chest to see that her palm was stained with red. There was no way she would be outrunning him on that leg, and she did not like her chances at close range with him.

"Umi!" Eli's voice broke through the static that had been the only thing present on the other end of her earpiece for the last few minutes—the fact had barely registered over the sound of her heartbeat in her throat and ears, threatening to drown out all other sounds.

Somewhere, in the clinical part of her mind that was still capable of logical rationalization, it dawned on her that Eli had finally managed to get through whatever jamming technology that Satou had brought with him.

"Shoot the tank above his head," Eli instructed her, her tone distressed and urgent.

What?

Staring past Satou's shoulder, Umi spotted a dark green tank in question set into the ceiling of the room, the bottom of its metal casing already dented from the earlier blast. But with the man moving away from it towards her, she wasn't sure if the single arrow that would be the only shot she would have time to fire would be enough.

Adrenaline surged through her limbs as Umi forced herself to get up, knowing that she had to try, even if the odds were against her. Drawing back her arrow, she saw Satou smirk when she missed him by a significant margin.

The tip of the arrow sunk into the metal tank's underside, but it wasn't enough to break it. The breath left her lungs in a gasp—there would be no time for her to reload to try again.

A single gunshot rang out from somewhere to her left and behind her; the force of the bullet did what the arrow could not, and the tank burst open.

Billows of steam filled the room as the tank decompressed, sending two gallons of compressed extinguisher fluid crashing down onto Satou's shoulders. The pungent smell of antifreeze filled her nostrils as the man began to scream, before the sound was abruptly cut off by a choked gargle.

Umi gave herself five seconds to catch her breath before she stood up shakily, struggling to see in the haze of steam.

Maki clambered over the desk behind her, her pistol still clutched in one hand with the other covering her nose and mouth. She was breathing hard, and Umi could make out the fine tremble of her hand. "I told you," the redhead wheezed, "that I wasn't useless."

The comment seemed so out of place that she almost laughed before Umi remembered where they were. "Come on," Umi rasped, testing her weight on her leg as she turned, finding that if she moved slowly, it held without complaint.

The extinguisher tank was still dripping coolant as the two of them warily approached the bounty hunter lying on the floor a few feet away from them. Neither of them lowered their weapons as they drew closer.

Chemical burns covered the exposed skin on the bounty hunter's face and arms, an angry blistering red that would have made her wince had she seen it on anyone else. As things were, Umi found that she did not feel sorry for the man lying in front of them whatsoever.

Carefully stepping over his sword, she kicked it away from him with her good leg. When she was close enough to make out his features, the corner of her mouth twitched in disgust when she realized that he was grinning at her.

"What's the matter, Sonoda? Too chicken to finish me off?" he coughed. "Or have you realized that what I said was the truth?"

Umi felt rather than heard Maki stop just behind her shoulder, her pistol still held tightly in both hands, though it was lowered.

"Neither," she replied simply, before removing an arrow from the sheath on her back.

Loading it in her bow, she paused before she released its string. "You may be right," she conceded quietly. "No one will ever say that we haven't made mistakes. Our actions do have consequences. No one can deny that—and I would never claim not to bear responsibility for what will happen here today. But with that responsibility comes a duty to make sure that in the future we have chosen, we do everything in our power to make things right. Not just for ourselves, but for the people who have chosen to make that decision with us. But I would never expect someone like you—who is incapable of thinking of anyone except yourself—to understand that."

Umi did not wait for Satou's response to her statement. If there was one, she had no interest in hearing it.

She closed her eyes for the briefest heartbeat, and fired.

Overhead, the steady dripping of the coolant slowed to a trickle as her gaze lingered on the unmoving body in front of her for a few moments.

Turning away, she found herself looking into the intent, amethyst gaze of her redheaded friend. Maki's expression was almost unreadable. Underneath the grim, determined set of her mouth, there was something else that she could not immediately discern. Was it sorrow? Umi could not be sure because Maki blinked a few times, and it was gone.

However, when she spoke, her tone was as crisp as ever. "You alright?" the redhead asked her, giving her leg a concerned glance.

Umi gave it a brief, cursory inspection. The wound was deep, but it didn't look like anything that was immediately life-threatening. "It can wait."

The physician exhaled. "Okay. Remind me not to let you run off once we're done here."

On slightly unsteady, shaky legs, Maki made her way over to where she'd dropped her rucksack, and picked it up before she pressed a hand to her earpiece, striding up to the large computer that had not escaped some damage. "Eli?" Umi heard her ask. "Please tell me this thing is still working."

"I won't be able to tell you anything until you turn it on," came the reply a few moments later. As much as she hated herself for the observation, Umi could not help but note the slight tremor in her voice that had not been there before. She bit her lip before she could say something, knowing that that was the last thing Eli wanted at the moment.

As the system rebooted itself, Umi stood behind the chair that Maki had sat down in to look at the screen over her shoulder. She watched her as she compared her notes with the parameters on the screen in front of her, adjusting them when they did not match.

Other than the occasional query about how a particular program worked, no one said a word. The silence hung between the three of them was heavy, but not in a way that prevented anyone from saying anything. There were perhaps hundreds of things any one of them could have said—it was just that there was no point in doing so. Even though no one was voicing them out loud, somehow, Umi knew that the thoughts currently in her head could not be that different from her friends'.

No. They're family. I would never have made it here without them. And I know that even now, there's a part of us all that does not believe we're standing here. Somehow, it feels surreal. If you told me that everything that led us up to this moment was a dream, I don't think I would be that surprised.

"Umi." Maki's voice broke her out of her thoughts. She looked up to find that Maki had taken the cylinder containing the results of her research out of her bag, holding it out towards her. "Can you put that in the pneumatic system in the wall?" She pointed to their right, where a tube system waited.

"Okay."

The container was heavy in her arms as she walked over to the space in the wall. Her extremities felt numb. She could barely feel the throbbing in her leg anymore as she palmed the control next to the tube system to release it. Gingerly, she placed the cylinder into its bracket, and resealed the panel. "Is that okay?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah." Maki nodded once as Umi made her way back to her. She was checking the parameters on the distribution program one more time, occasionally making minor adjustments to a specific value. Eventually, a single command prompt appeared on the screen. The option highlighted by the program was proceed.

Maki turned around then, the fingers of one hand hovering over the enter key on the keyboard. Her fingers were trembling.

When Umi met her gaze, she knew that she was not the only one whose eyes were stinging. Maki clenched the fingers of her right hand into a fist, her nails digging into her creased palm so hard that Umi could see the whiteness of her knuckles highlighted by the glow of the screen. "Are we… really doing this?" she asked. It sounded almost like a plea, as if she wanted her to tell her no.

Umi swallowed. "We've… come too far to turn back now," she said at last, unable to continue—unable to put the tightness in her chest to words.

Maki closed her eyes for a few moments before she opened them again. "I know. But… I can't—I-I don't think I can do this by myself."

She took a step forward then, closing her right hand over Maki's just over the enter key. "You're won't be."

Umi felt her exhale, her shoulders dropping as she let out a long breath. "Okay."

Someone's hands were shaking. Whether it was Maki's or hers, Umi could not tell. Perhaps it was them both. Air fought a war with her muscles on the way out of her throat and it burned on the way out.

"Ready?" Maki asked her in a quiet voice. It was almost a whisper.

Not trusting her voice, Umi nodded.

Two sets of fingers hit the enter key once.

"Ready?" Maki's almost inaudible voice issued over her headset.

The singular word balled in Eli's throat, strangling her voice. Her shoulders were shaking; unable to find something to ground herself with, there was only one thing left within her control for her to do.

Removing her earpiece, she let her head drop, her bangs falling into her face. Gripping the headset with both hands in order to stop them from shaking too, she closed her eyes, and counted.

She didn't get very far before other voices shattered the illusion of silence around her. She heard the raised voices of triumph and the reports from the outer districts of Tokyo being repeated by someone close to her, but none of it meant anything to her. Nothing seemed real.

Time slipped by her in seconds, then minutes. It was like the rest of the world had pushed past her, stranding her in a moment that she could not move on from.

Then, a gentle pair of arms slid around her shoulders, warm against the numbness of her extremities as Nozomi embraced her tenderly from behind, resting her cheek against the top of her head. Eli gripped the pair of hands resting on her collarbone with her own, holding onto them as though they were a lifeline.

Nozomi did not speak—nor did she push her to speak—as she stood there behind her. Although each breath caught painfully in the back of her throat and her lungs felt too big for her chest, Eli found that there were no tears. Had there been anything but cold numbness in the rest of her body, she might've wondered why.

Instead, she forced herself to keep breathing, concentrating on making each shallow breath as even as possible. Apart from the steady warmth of Nozomi's hands clutched tightly underneath her own, it was the only thing that she could allow herself to focus on.

The moments passed in silence until at some point, Eli became aware of the fact that the room around them had become quiet, and she raised her head. The slight movement caught Nozomi's attention and Eli felt her gently slip her hands free out from underneath her grip so that she could walk around the chair she was sitting in in order to look at her.

The violet-haired woman's expression was gentle. "Can I show you something?" she asked softly.

Mutely, Eli nodded, and allowed her to pull her to her feet.

Taking her hand, Nozomi led her to the balcony on the other side of the conference room that they had been occupying.

Outside, an early winter sunset stained the sky a deep, fiery crimson under ragged storm clouds gathered just above the horizon. Drifting down from the grey clouds above them were large, wet flakes, but she knew that it wasn't snow that was falling from the sky.

Eli held out a hand and watched one of them land on her open palm before slowly dissolving. Closing her fingers over it, she pressed that hand to her chest as though it would stifle the painful rhythm of her heartbeat.

"Look," Nozomi told her, gesturing not to the falling flakes around them, but to the courtyard of the district building on the other side of the balcony railing.

She looked.

It took her several seconds to recognize the courtyard—the yellowing grass of the lawn was barely visible underneath a large gathering of people, some holding umbrellas, others holding out their hands to catch the falling precipitation just as she had. To her surprise, she realized that the people she was looking at weren't just the politicians and the members of the rich and affluent that frequented the district building on a daily basis. Amongst them, she spotted ordinary citizens of Tokyo that she might've passed by on the streets, standing side by side with the people she knew they had mistrusted for longer than she could remember.

But the atmosphere of the gathering was neither tense nor suspicious, as she would've anticipated given how she had seen the two groups of citizens interact before. She had observed these people in so many different states over the years—blissfully ignorant, terrified, protesting, hating the very existence of the Ceresis, and even killing each other out of fear and misunderstanding. She had doubted them—doubted that they would ever escape the vicious cycle that they had brought upon themselves.

Once upon a time, she had been one of them.

But there were no traces of that past in the courtyard below her. Instead, they were standing together, gathered in a shared understanding of what had happened and united in a mutual desire to move forward.

Nozomi turned to her. "I know that neither of us will ever forget the past," she murmured softly. "Or what it cost us to make it here to this day. But… we can't forget that we still have a future. No matter what happens, tomorrow will still come. I know that you've seen what the darkness in this city looks like over the past eight years. Your entire adult life has been shaped by what that darkness has brought about. But when you look at this in front of you… can you believe that on the other side of that darkness is the hope for a future?"

Eli looked at her then, finding the unspoken empathy and sorrow in Nozomi's emerald gaze and the tenuous, humbled hope underneath it. Wordlessly, she nodded.

A small, warm smile formed on Nozomi's lips as she reached for her other hand until she held them both in hers. "Then, are you ready to face what tomorrow will bring us, whatever it may be? Even after everything that has happened, there's still part of an entire city that needs to be rebuilt. I don't mean just physically. I think it's time for a change that's long overdue." She paused. "Are you willing to help me?"

The superficiality of the question was not lost on her. Swallowing past the swell of emotion at the back of her throat, Eli returned the firm grip on her fingers with pressure of her own. Her view of the scene in front of her hazy with unshed tears and her voice was hoarse and tremulous when she finally spoke.

"I am."