0. Cover
0. Insert
0. Title Page
0. Copyright
0. Prologue: Nightmare
0. Chapter One: Deployment
0. Interlude One: Intentions
0. Chapter Two: Cowardice
0. Interlude Two: Signs
0. Chapter Three: Hubris
0. Chapter Four: Self-Awareness
0. Interlude Three: Consciousness
0. Chapter Five: Training
0. Chapter Six: Carelessness
0. Chapter Seven: Bones
0. Chapter Eight: Clarity
0. Chapter Nine: Faith
0. Chapter Ten: Depths
0. Chapter Eleven: Tenacity
0. Interlude Four: Thawing Ice
0. Epilogue One: Missing
0. Interlude Five: Careless
0. Epilogue Two: Darkness
0. Afterword
0. Yen Newsletter

There can be no common ground between heroes and humans.

Because heroes, too, were once human.

“Azuma! It’s coming your way!!”

It was noon in late spring, when the sun begins to grow harsh in the sky—they were in a vacant stretch of land, all the buildings now gone.

Someone shouted his name wildly. The young man with the silver hair, Captain Yuuri Azuma, turned in their direction. He gripped his handgun, a weapon he had only just recently learned how to use, loosely—its surface was coated in a sickly green sheen—and took aim at the thing hurrying straight toward him.

The thing was not human, but it didn’t look man-made, like a machine, nor like anything found in nature. It was a monster, all wrong at a glance. No bigger in size than a human child, its silhouette was vaguely human-shaped as well—but its body was made up of nothing but faces.

The area where a face would have been on a normal person, and the space around it, was completely black, almost as if it has been scratched out. The other parts, what would have been its arms and legs, were plastered with a distorted and swollen face. A skin-crawling sight.

But Azuma did not flinch. He spoke quietly to the scarlet-haired girl standing next to him.

“I’ll distract it. That’s when you strike.”

“Okay!” said the girl, holding a long, stick-shaped weapon—basically a club.

Getting the creature’s attention probably wouldn’t prove too hard. After all, its whole body was a face—eyes and ears—leaving it constantly aware of what was happening in all directions. It was what made it such a difficult foe. But it didn’t matter how well it could see and hear if it couldn’t get out of the way of their attacks.

Azuma rushed forward.

It took him less than a few seconds to close the distance, kicking it, first, in the scarlet-haired girl’s direction. He followed a moment after, and once he was close enough to nearly touch the thing, he put a finger to the trigger of the gun.

Azuma began to press the trigger, depressing it by just the slightest millimeter.

He swallowed hard. His vision wavered, suddenly roiled by static.

And then, for just a brief moment, the hero appeared to have transformed—

Quiet, like a field, when the wind has calmed.

Captain Yuuri Azuma sat up in his bed. The ticking of a clock’s second hand filled the darkness of the room—the time was 3:40 AM. A strange time to wake up, thought Azuma.

It was just a bit too warm for a night in late June. Azuma furrowed his brow, remembering the dream he’d just had. It had been of a battle with an enemy they had encountered about two months ago.

He couldn’t remember it clearly…but the enemy’s appearance seemed to have been obscured by static for a moment. It was no more than a gut sensation, but for a fleeting instant, the creature appeared to have transformed into something else.

What…was that thing?

Small and humanoid shaped. A pale amberish-peach color. The same color as Azuma’s skin.

Azuma, however, quickly let the memory go.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t really matter…

For a brief moment, that hideous aberration had just happened to appear as something else. Nothing more.

“I’m here to cut them down, not sit and watch.”

Heroes were homicidal monsters, after all. No more, and no less.

The look in her eyes was 100 percent serious.

Pale violet, full of resolve, unwilling to brook compromise or pull punches. Her scarlet hair, meanwhile, the very image of fiery determination, was gathered into a messy ponytail. Dark bags rested beneath her shapely eyes, but the passion resting in those eyes was unmistakable.

At the moment, this intense young woman—Lieutenant Kaguya Shinohara—was sitting across from Mari, her junior at the Bureau, and speaking in hushed and solemn tones.

“In the beginning, God looked down upon His creation and said…”

Kaguya didn’t believe in things like God most days, but at the moment her eyes were brimming with faith. She was sitting in the cafeteria at Extermination Bureau Headquarters.

“…let there be beef.”

“Uh, I don’t think God said that.”

Kaguya’s partner in this discussion was a girl with blond pigtails, Warrant Officer Mari Ezakura. She was staring at her coffee with utter disinterest.

“Besides, I don’t like that kind of god. Start over!”

“Hear me out, Mari,” said Kaguya, unperturbed, holding up a hand to silence her. “On the first day, God brought yakiniku lunch sets into this world, and it was good. On the second day, He created Hamburg steak lunch sets. On the third day, he created tonkatsu lunch sets. On the fourth day, he created yakisoba—”

“Those are just the daily specials. You’re not talking about God, you’re talking about the people who run this cafeteria!”

“Yes—God works in mysterious ways! No matter how often I come here, the food is always divine,” Kaguya said earnestly.

Laid out before Kaguya were a yakiniku lunch set, a beef and rice bowl, tuna salad, and spaghetti…all of which she’d just eaten.

Sitting across the table, Mari couldn’t help but wonder if the food might not have tasted even better if Kaguya had actually paused long enough to savor any of it. Kaguya, however, continued speaking, not paying any attention to the look Mari was directing her way.

“This is my own personal belief, but it is not the main dishes that determine the quality of a restaurant—it is the sides. Everyone will take their time to ensure the main dishes taste great. The real find is a restaurant where they put just as much effort into what doesn’t seem as popular, that not as many people will order.”

“Hrmm…”

“Speaking of which—”

Just then, another dish was brought out. A small—or, at least small from Kaguya’s perspective—bowl of egg salad. Perfect timing. Kaguya took the bowl of egg salad and shoved it into Mari’s face.

“See, Mari? Look at this egg salad. See how succulent the eggs are?”

“Succulent…eggs?”

“It’s easy to tell with boiled eggs, but see how plump and glossy the whites look? That is proof of how scrumptious they will be.”

“I’m pretty sure most boiled eggs look like that.”

Mari didn’t even try to hide her annoyed expression.

“By the way, Kaguya…,” she began, choosing to ignore her friend’s rambling, “how many nights in a row is it that you’ve gone without sleep now?”

“What? Just two. It’s fine.”

Kaguya’s eyes were full of no-nonsense determination, but without a clear target for that determination, they were also a little unfocused.

“I don’t know what you mean, exactly, by it’s fine, but you didn’t have to go to all the trouble of coming here if you haven’t slept. I’m not sure what you’ve been up to, but you know you need to sleep, don’t you?”

“I’m fine. I used to stay up like this all the time when I was at Technical. Really, the fun doesn’t even get started until you’ve hit at least three nights in a row.”

“True, you did used to love your all-nighters,” said Mari, sipping her coffee in exasperation.

Kaguya wasn’t the only one. The scientists at Technical were notorious for neglecting their health.

“Those who can’t do, sleep! All the greats from the past agree, no one needs more than three hours a night!” Et cetera, et cetera. Or at least, so said the Director, who had no interest in anything other than science.

Though she might try to hide it, the truth was that Mari had not slept the night before, either. Even after one all-nighter, however, she felt completely drained, and couldn’t stomach anything more than a cup of coffee to wake herself up. Compare that to Kaguya, who had managed to put away all those plates of food. Mari shuddered. Mysterious ways indeed.

“Even if it’s just two days in a row, though—you’re not at Technical anymore, are you, Kaguya?” Mari was surprised at how thick her voice sounded. “What exactly are you doing there every day…?”

“Well…”

Kaguya put on her usual smile. It was a look that Mari loved, but lately had grown to hate a little, too—one that let her know this was a line that couldn’t be crossed.

“I’m sorry, Mari… It’s still a secret.”

Mari sighed, having already half given up. She knew that was what Kaguya was going to say.

“You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you, Lieutenant?” Mari quipped, a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

Kaguya winced.

“Well then…do you mind if I get down to what I wanted to talk to you about?”

Mari set her empty coffee cup down on its saucer with a clatter. Her gaze was somewhat serious. Kaguya blinked in surprise.

Mari had been the one to ask Kaguya to lunch, saying she had something she wanted to talk about. Kaguya already had an idea of what that “something” might be.

The reluctance in Mari’s voice when she called had given it away. After several attempts and much hesitation, Mari managed to find the courage to begin speaking.

“Kaguya—when are you finally going to come back to Technical?”

Kaguya looked down sheepishly. She could only brush the question aside curtly. “Mari, I told you…”

“I know. I thought I understood. I did…but Technical is no fun without you there. It’s so quiet. I miss you coming around to talk my ear off about heroes every day, whether I like it or not.”

“What do you mean, whether you like it or not? Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

“I—I know you have your own circumstances to deal with, but you weren’t supposed to be gone forever! Besides, now the Director is forcing me to help her with all her weird experiments…”

“Weird experiments?”

“Something about creating a new Chronos.”

Chronoses, which had surfaced thirty years ago, were the only weapons capable of effectively damaging heroes. They were undeniably powerful, and included materials that were sourced directly from the heroes themselves.

“Wait, the Director is making Chronoses?! I thought no one knew how…”

“She said if no one knows, we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves. How to make a perfected version, without rebounds. That’s the Director for you, I guess. As nuts as ever.”

“I…I guess so…”

Powerful weapons, of course, came with a powerful price—attacking with a Chronos resulted in a harsh rebound, which few people were able to handle properly. As far as weapons went, they were essentially a failure.

At least they were, until they appeared.

Charon. A special ops squad that occupied a vital position at the Extermination Bureau. The members of Charon all had one thing in common: they had all survived the hero attack that decimated Chiba Prefecture six years ago.

Kaguya, too, remembered the explosion well. It had been appalling. Even though she was only eleven years old at the time, she had felt that horror in her bones.

Where had the hero emerged? The wall of explosive force from that explosion had not only disintegrated organic life, human or otherwise, but had even decimated the buildings and structures in the area, all in an instant—after which, a towering magma tsunami had swept away everything remaining in its path. The whole area had been transformed into total hell.

And yet, somehow, they had been spared—a group of young boys and girls who had survived the incident completely unharmed. Anomalies who had somehow managed to survive, when even the buildings and land around them had been incinerated.

Chronoses were the only weapon capable of truly resisting the heroes, and these young men and women were now the only ones capable of properly handling those Chronoses. However, they were also subject to close scrutiny by the Bureau.

“Well, it’s not like Azuma can use his katana anymore—apparently repairing katanas is very difficult, so maybe making a new one does make more sense.”

“Maybe, but what is he supposed to do until the Director figures it out? It’s not like he can just fight barehanded, can he?”

“Oh, apparently he’s going to keep using a handgun-type model for now. It’s the pistol I’d been carrying, the one I hadn’t been able to fire.”

It all happened several months ago. As a result of certain events, the katana wielded by Charon’s leader and ace soldier, Captain Yuuri Azuma, had been broken into two pieces. As there were no adequate substitute katanas available, Azuma had been using a handgun-type Chronos since then, the one Kaguya had previously wielded.

“Still, I can’t believe she’s actually trying to create new Chronoses.”

“The method for creating Chronoses has been lost, and the organization put the kibosh on producing any more of them. If anyone could do it, it’s the Director, but even just the idea scares me…”

If it was anyone else, they might have laughed in surprise, but both Kaguya and Mari were well aware of how talented the Director was. If she said she could do it, they believed her.

“If she does manage it, I’d like to be the first to see. Actually, if I could, I’d like to be there for the testing to—”

“Lieutenant.”

Somebody spoke from behind suddenly while Kaguya was still mid-sentence. Surprised, Kaguya and Mari both jumped in their seats.

Turning around, they spotted a young man with silver hair. He wore a cross-shaped earring in his left ear, his expression as inscrutable as always. However, there was also a hint of gentleness about him.

It was Captain Azuma. They hadn’t even noticed his approach.

“Oh, Captain—”

Before she could finish her sentence, however, Kaguya stole a timid glance in Mari’s direction. Despite her exasperation, Mari had clearly been enjoying herself. Her mood soured immediately. She glared at Azuma, in a blatant sulk.

Rather than respond to Kaguya, Azuma stood in place, meeting Mari’s gaze. Kaguya could have sworn she saw sparks flying.

Mari grinned. The grin did not reach her eyes.

“Captain Azuma, do you mind…? Kaguya and I are having lunch.”

“I can see that.”

“And yet you interrupted us anyway. How embarrassing for you. Can’t you take a hint?”

Most of the sparks Kaguya saw were coming from Mari. For instance, the way she stressed the words Kaguya and I. Lately Mari’s hostility was starting to become a bit much, even for Kaguya. And yet it seemed to roll right off Azuma’s back.

“This again? Every time I see you, I feel like you say the same thing. It’s like your emotions are stuck on one setting, Warrant Officer Ezakura.”

“Excuse me? I say the same thing? And whose fault do you think that is?!”

The atmosphere was growing volatile. Kaguya, who was stuck between them—was not actually that concerned. She was used to this behavior by now. Azuma and Mari always acted like this when they crossed paths. At first Kaguya had tried to put a stop to it, but since it didn’t seem like they were actually going to come to blows, lately she had decided to just let them get it out of their systems.

“Remember, you’re the one hanging around Kaguya like some kind of stalker in the first place—”

“Mari… Azuma is probably here to let me know it’s time.”

“Time…?”

“For combat training.” Kaguya glanced down at the floor for the briefest moment.

There was nothing there but plain, dull tile. It was the room farther below, in one of the basements, that was on Kaguya’s mind.

“We’ve been doing weapons training in a training center beneath this cafeteria, deep underground,” Kaguya told Mari.

Azuma had lost his sword. As a stopgap measure, he was currently using a gun, but was undergoing voluntary training due to his poor accuracy. It was mostly Koyuki doing the teaching.

“Combat training? But why…?” Mari looked aghast. “Do you really need to do something like that…?”

“That decision is up to Lieutenant Kaguya,” said Azuma, causing Mari to bristle again. “The lieutenant is part of Charon now. As her former lab partner, it’s not your place to interfere.”

Azuma had stressed the word former, rubbing salt in Mari’s wounds.

Talk about immature! thought Kaguya.

That said, Azuma and Mari were only two years apart.

Azuma’s use of the word former had clearly irked Mari, but she didn’t say anything back, perhaps because she could see his point. Instead, she leaned in closer to Kaguya.

“I still haven’t given up on you, Kaguya. It might be difficult now, but I know you’ll come back to us someday.”

“O-okay…”

Kaguya could only smile as she stared down at her former lab partner, unsure of what to say. Kaguya had been officially transferred to the Charon special ops squad two months ago, from her old home in Technical No. 2, due to a series of circumstances.

While too difficult to sum up quickly, the whole situation was extremely complicated, and no one was telling her anything for now.

“I’m sorry, Mari. But even if I could come back, I don’t intend to. Obviously I don’t have anything against Technical and I still plan to continue my research, but this is what’s important right now.”

It wasn’t Kaguya’s first time saying this.

Mari bit her lip for a moment and turned away, this time sulking for real.

“When you say this, you mean heroes, I bet,” said Mari, frowning, her voice getting dangerously close to whining.

She didn’t phrase it as a question because there was no reason to keep asking the same thing over and over again. Kaguya smiled uncomfortably but didn’t deny it.

“What about you, Mari?” Kaguya asked. “You were trying to register new samples, weren’t you? I’m sure you’ve got your work cut out for you, too.”

“It’s barely a challenge. But yeah, I guess.”

As Kaguya stood to go, Mari couldn’t stop herself from smiling sadly.

“Let’s have lunch again soon, Kaguya. I’ll call you…”

“Of course. I look forward to it, Mari.”

“But next time, no more uninvited guests!! Promise!!”

“O-okay. I promise,” said Kaguya, glancing at Mari with a look that was both uncomfortable and pleased—although this time, she really did feel sorry.

Promises were not something to be made lately. Not in the Bureau, where anyone could fall victim to a hero attack at any time, or even become a hero themselves. Under such circumstances, promising to meet again was almost cruel. So long as heroes existed there was no way to know whether the promised day would actually come.

Heroes—tragic monsters that had first appeared over thirty years ago.

Once humans themselves, these heroes now slaughtered people—and for some reason could only be perceived by the young. As for Kaguya and the others? They were a group of orphans, victims of past hero attacks, who had been corralled together to resist these monsters.

And the military-like organization that led this motley crew of underaged fighters: the Extermination Bureau.

Meanwhile, after leaving the hall, Haru took out her terminal the moment she was in private. She dialed the number at the top of her call history—the one with the most frequent calls.

After the phone rang for some time, the person on the other end finally picked up.

“My apologies for calling while you’re busy,” Haru said, deferentially. The person she called was in a position of authority. “I’ve made contact with Kaguya Shinohara at Charon headquarters.”

“I see,” the person replied solemnly. In a way it almost sounded like they were sighing. “You understand that you are there as an inspector for the Intelligence and Analysis Branch, yes? Your job, however, is not to merely observe. You are to drag Kaguya Shinohara back to Inspection Group headquarters by whatever means necessary, even with false accusations… According to the report she is there for research purposes, but that is obviously untrue. They are hiding something.”

“Of course.”

Haru was there to drag Kaguya back to Inspection—just like Azuma and the others had suspected. The reason didn’t matter as long as Haru could separate her from Charon.

Haru didn’t care what happened to Kaguya after that. She would probably be subjected to all sorts of outlandish treatment, but that was hardly Haru’s business.

What Haru didn’t understand, however, was why Inspection was so fixated on Kaguya in the first place. Why were they so against her?

As far as Haru could tell from their meeting earlier, Kaguya didn’t seem like the type to cause problems. Or, to put it another way, she hardly seemed worth all this trouble.

“Sorry, but why are you so interested in Kaguya Shinohara? It is true that her behavior during recent events was suspicious, but it’s not like she is doing any harm. I don’t see why she merits so much concern…”

“Second Lieutenant Takanashi…” The person on the other end of the line sounded slightly offended. Haru was taken aback by their tone. “Such issues are none of your concern.”

“O-of course not…”

Haru broke out into a cold sweat, detecting the person’s bad mood even over the phone.

“If you succeed in this, however, you will have effectively achieved your goal. That is all you need to focus on. I will honor our agreement. You will finally get your hands on what you’ve been waiting for. I have high expectations for you, Second Lieutenant.”

“Of course…”

Haru hadn’t just inserted herself into Charon because she worked for Inspection. She also had her own goal that she was trying to achieve, and this was her chance to build a foundation for success. That was her real reason for being there.

What Haru wanted—was information.

About the heroes. Records. If she could get her hands on what little bits of intelligence had survived that chaos—

“Still, I don’t like it.” It was a dirty trick, using that as bait to get her to trap someone. “Not that I have any room to complain, seeing as I agreed to do it…”

She was in no position to throw stones. Like they say, you can’t make an omelet unless you’re willing to crack a few eggs.

There’s nothing worse than naïveté. Naïveté, and those who cling to it.

Which is why she was doing things this way in the first place. She had already made up her mind—everything else was just noise.

Haru Takanashi didn’t know what the person on the other end of the line was thinking, and she didn’t need to know.

Haru Takanashi, the officer dispatched from Inspection.

From the beginning, she made no attempt to fit in at Charon, and the other members took a clear disliking to her. Koyuki avoided her and made no attempt to hide it, Rindou treated her with open hostility, and many of the other members seemed to harbor strong negative feelings toward her as well.

As Kaguya and the others suspected, Haru’s main target appeared to be Kaguya. She analyzed videos of past combats in which Kaguya played a role, looking for anything out of place or questionable, and then grilled Kaguya and Azuma about her findings.

Kaguya, meanwhile, wasn’t making things easy for her. In addition to doing her utmost, of course, to avoid Haru, she also refused to rise to the bait no matter what Haru said, calmly explaining the truth instead. She was also careful to leave nothing suspicious out in the open, ensuring she remained safe no matter when Haru decided to do a search. She had even put her data on the heroes, which she always kept close at hand, temporarily into Azuma’s safekeeping.

Kaguya assumed Haru wasn’t going to be there for very long. If she were on a medium- to long-term mission, she would have probably spent more time trying to get into their good graces instead and waited to investigate until their guard was down.

So all Kaguya had to do, she figured, was bear it for a little while longer. However, Haru’s presence was having a negative effect on the other members as well—they all felt like Charon was under the watchful eye of a stuffy schoolteacher.

“Seriously—give me a break.”

The day after Haru arrived, Kaguya was sprawled out on the sofa in Azuma’s room, exhausted.

Azuma, meanwhile, was staring at her. He had considered making tea, but she was the one who had barged into his room without invitation, so he decided to just stick to doing paperwork at his desk.

“She even watches me while I cook. Can you believe it? What exactly does she think she’s going to find to complain about?”

“She’s probably going to say you need to change departments because of injurious use of cooking oil.”

“Don’t even joke about that—she probably would… She went after Koyuki again today, too, saying that her skirt is too short, morals and order, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Morals and order… Who died and made her teacher’s pet?”

Kaguya was not in Azuma’s room for any particular reason. She had simply come to collect his report. Since he had previously begun to transform into a hero and then turned back into a human, Azuma had been writing simple reports for Kaguya, detailing his physical condition.

According to Kaguya, the reason she wanted his written reports and not raw data was because she was inspecting his handwriting. She couldn’t do it in the meeting hall now that Haru was here, so had barged into his room instead.

I’m sure we’re being watched here as well, though.

Haru Takanashi had come from the Extermination Bureau’s Inspection Group. Azuma had a hunch, however, that she was no mere inspector.

First of all, from the way she walked he could tell that her core was strong. Her movements were extremely economical as well. She didn’t seem quite as adept a fighter as, say, Azuma, Rindou, or Koyuki, but she was no amateur like Kaguya, either—or so Azuma suspected.

Not that it really mattered.

“Here. I’m done.”

Azuma handed the report to Kaguya, which he had jotted down while thinking. Kaguya listlessly took it from him.

He was only making one report per day, but there were now several dozen pages. In them, Azuma covered not only his physical changes, but also notes related to battle. Kaguya skimmed through it, glancing down at the pages through the corner of her eye.

“Hmm…?” She stopped at one page and furrowed her brow. “Increased heart rate…? Sorry, what is this? What’s this referring to?”

“Oh. I only noticed recently, but my heart rate seems to have increased under certain conditions. It’s a symptom I never had before turning into a hero.”

“Certain conditions? What kinds of conditions?”

“Oh… Well, it happens during battle, but also at other times. The situation doesn’t really matter.” Azuma was being uncharacteristically evasive. It almost seemed like he was hoping she would drop the subject. “It’s whenever I share space with a certain squad member.”

“A certain squad member? Who?”

“Er… You, Lieutenant Shinohara,” he said, his face stoic.

Kaguya stared at him, her mouth agape.

“It’s not just my pulse. I have trouble concentrating. I feel inexplicably euphoric along with a rising sense of frustration. And yet also somehow feel incredibly powerful—I’ve never experienced symptoms like these before.”

“Euphoric and powerful,” Kaguya muttered. “I wonder if it could be an unprovoked surge of adrenaline.”

Surprised, she placed her chin in her hand and began to think.

“That’s not good…,” she said. After a moment her expression grew concerned. “These…could be aftereffects.”

“Aftereffects…?”

“Yes. You say these symptoms only appear when you’re near me, correct? And one thing that distinguishes me from others is that I interfered in your psyche, which makes me wonder if these symptoms could be aftereffects from what happened two months ago.”

“I see. Of course—you once meddled in my psyche, so if residues of that experience remain it would make sense for abnormalities to only occur while you’re near.”

“The effect seems to be narcotic. Hopefully it will alleviate with time, but…” Kaguya stared at the report. “Captain Azuma, I’m sorry, but would you mind writing down any change in these symptoms for me, every day? I’d like you to include even the smallest change in circumstances when they occur.”

“Of course.”

That sounded simple enough. Azuma didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t.

“Actually,” said Kaguya, “as long as I’m here, we should do a little experiment.”

She stood up from the sofa and strode directly toward Azuma.

She almost seemed to be enjoying this, although surely Azuma was just imagining that—

“Wait. What are you doing?” he asked.

“Hold still.”

Kaguya moved forward suddenly, just centimeters away. Azuma flinched in surprise. Kaguya was no expert when it came to physical maneuvers, but even though Azuma had been on the front lines for the past six years, she was able to almost instantly get close to him.

So close that he could feel them both breathing.

Her skin, which was as white as porcelain, the excitement betrayed in her violet eyes, close enough to reach out and touch—no, even closer than that. All before he could stop her.

Azuma had never been this close to Kaguya—to any girl—before in his life. His voice came out as a weak, almost pathetic, tremble.

“…?! Where did this come from…?”

Azuma and Kaguya were different heights. Kaguya’s head came just to the base of Azuma’s neck. Her delicate hair would probably feel like silk if he touched it. Azuma was ashamed at how flustered he felt.

“Well? What happens when I get this close? Has anything changed?”

“Anything…?”

Azuma tried to resist. What did she think she was doing, all of a sudden? Before he could speak, however, her soft sweet scent stole the words from him.

Usually Azuma didn’t notice it, but right now he couldn’t help but be painfully aware of the scent as it tickled his nose—that vaguely sweet smell that was unique to girls. He didn’t think Kaguya was wearing perfume, so maybe it was her shampoo, or even her own natural smell.

This was no laughing matter. Azuma had no idea his composure could be so easily shattered.

On top of everything else, she didn’t seem to notice—but how could she not?—they were touching him. Kaguya’s were bigger than average, according to Koyuki. Nicer. Touching him now. Her chest.

Obviously she wasn’t pushing them against him. She was just comfortable, that’s all, her defenses down. Touching him, not touching him, what did it matter—?

But for Azuma…

Her twin mounds, which he could feel brushing against him near his own chest, were soft and warm, and sent an electric shock throughout his entire body. What little sanity he had left evaporated almost entirely.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Captain Azuma?” Kaguya asked.

But Azuma said nothing. Finding his behavior strange, Kaguya tilted her eyes upward to look at him. Upturned eyes, beneath soft lashes.

Kaguya’s beautiful violet eyes, slightly moist from lack of sleep, stared up at him with simple, intellectual curiosity. Azuma suddenly broke eye contact.

“Hmm? Are you okay?” Kaguya asked him.

“I…think I feel a little ill.”

She furrowed her brow, looking worried. Azuma forced himself to look away. He felt like his heart was going to explode.

“Yes…you do look unwell. Maybe you should go for a checkup, Captain.”

“What?”

“I can hear your pulse, and it really is quite fast. You’re sweating, and you seem quite tense. There may be a problem with your heart or nervous system.”

“Y-yes, of course. I’ll make an appointment.”

Azuma didn’t think it was his heart, but at present he couldn’t think of what else it might be.

Kaguya moved away, unbothered.

“This time I’ll try moving farther back,” she said, walking over to a corner of Azuma’s room. The room was quite large, so she looked comparatively small standing far away in the corner.

“Well?”

“I mean…” He was certainly better than a moment ago, that was for sure. “The truth is, I get the symptoms even when I just see you. They just get stronger the closer you get.”

“I see. So it differs depending on distance,” said Kaguya, approaching once again. “Yes, that could be a problem. Under normal circumstances it might not matter, but if something like this were to occur during battle, things might get complicated. Should I make an effort to keep my distance? At least until you get better?”

“N-no, that seems like putting the cart before the horse. Besides, even if my pulse does increase, it’s only by a little bit, and my concentration is fine. I don’t think it’s had any effect in battle.”

“That’s okay then, I guess—but we need to address this sooner rather than later.” Kaguya was being oddly insistent for some reason. “Even if it is no problem under ordinary circumstances, if you got this way during battle, it would likely put the entire squad in danger.”

Azuma wasn’t sure what to say. Obviously, this problem never occurred during battle.

“The fact of the matter is we don’t have any effective options for treating this… I know. It may be a little over the top, but I think our only option might be exposure therapy.”

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes. We may not be able to cure what you’re experiencing at the moment, but we can still help get you acclimated to it,” said Kaguya, drawing closer to Azuma once again. She grabbed his right hand in both of her own.

“—?!”

The sudden warmth caused him to jump.

Her hands, which he could feel on his own, were slender and slightly cool to the touch. They were small and delicate in a way that was hard for him to understand as a man, but still held scratches and calluses. They were not weak hands. They were like her. To be honest, though, that wasn’t really what Azuma was thinking about anymore.

The feel of her hands, the warmth—

Hold on, what was he even thinking?

“You see? If we increase contact like this, you should gradually grow accustomed to the feeling. That way, even if something like this does happen during battle, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“…Please let go…”

“Oh—I’m sorry! Was that too much? Maybe we should have worked up to that…”

Kaguya released his hand, and Azuma felt like he could finally breathe again. He could still feel her warmth.

Seriously, what in the hell am I even thinking about?!

“This is actually kind of a relief, though. We’re finally seeing a change. I was starting to panic a little, thinking there might be nothing.”

“O-oh, of course. That’s good then, I guess.”

Azuma, meanwhile, took a deep breath. He wanted to bury everything that had just happened in a deep, dark corner of his memory and then never think of it ever again, if at all possible.

Azuma breathed a sigh, forcefully banishing his thoughts. Clearly Kaguya was just doing all this out of the goodness of her heart. There was no way she had ulterior motives, he told himself.

“Humph… I wasn’t the only one to turn, though. We found out you almost turned into a hero yourself once, Lieutenant. Are you sure there haven’t been any little changes with you as well?”

“I was thinking the same thing, but apparently it’s not that simple,” said Kaguya, making eye contact with Azuma and laughing uncomfortably. “Nothing seems to have changed with me. Of course, I lived all those years without even knowing, so maybe it doesn’t have much of an effect in the first place.” Kaguya’s smile was still uncomfortable. “But it must be tough for you, Captain. Constantly hearing the egg pulsing, that is.”

“Well… I guess. I’ve already gotten used to it, though.”

Even the pulsing, which he could hear coming from inside his own body, was not that hard to deal with once he became accustomed to it. He only noticed it slightly now, on quiet nights after battle when he couldn’t sleep.

“It is creepy, though. Feeling as if you have two hearts inside you.”

No, worse than that. Even now it was difficult to accept—knowing that there was something foreign inside him, especially when that something came from a creature he hated so much.

“Doesn’t it gross you out, Lieutenant…? Knowing there’s a hero egg inside you?”

“Hmm? Not at all. After all, I went seven years without even noticing it,” said Kaguya, taking the broad-minded approach. “But when it comes to the Goddesses who made us this way—and the heroes…”

Kaguya spoke quietly, her voice rife with conflicting emotions. But whether rage, pity, or even sympathy, whatever she was feeling was far too complex to sum up in a single word.

“I’d like to at least figure out what they really are before I grow up.”

“What they really are… I had never even thought about that before.”

Not until Kaguya arrived.

Where had the heroes come from, why were they so bent on causing destruction, and where would their path take them?

Heroes had appeared out of the blue three decades ago, in the year 2030. Even after all that time, very little was known about them other than that heroes were originally humans, and that creatures known as Goddesses had made them this way.

“I actually don’t know too much about this stuff, but there must have been some signs of when they first appeared. If you look into records from thirty years ago, wouldn’t something pop up?” Azuma asked.

“You would think so…,” said Kaguya, her voice suddenly dropping low. She sounded somehow jaded. “But nothing is left… All the documents from thirty years ago are gone!”

“Gone?”

Even Azuma knew that was strange. Seeing his reaction, Kaguya waved her hand in the air as if to clarify.

“I mean, not every document. Just everything related to heroes. Of course, things may have just been too chaotic at the time to leave any records behind.”

Azuma, of course, had no clue what things might have been like thirty years ago. But if heroes had only been visible to children even from the start, then the avenues open for fighting back would have been extremely limited. It’s not like the Self-Defense Forces could have done anything if they weren’t even able to see them.

“It’s probably because only children could see them,” said Azuma. “People must have been helpless for the first few years.”

“Still, even children can make records. And forget about the children—you would have expected a few heroes to show up randomly in photos, at least, but there’s not even that.”

Even when captured in photos and videos, heroes could only be perceived by those who were young enough to see them.

“You know why they came to be called heroes, don’t you, Captain Azuma…?”

“Yes. It’s because the first one to appear resembled a ‘hero’ from a fantasy anime, right?” That was what Azuma had heard. And the name “Goddess” had apparently been chosen based on that. Azuma had never taken much of an interest, to be honest. “Why? What about it?”

“Well—exactly who did you hear that from?”

Azuma furrowed his brow. Her question seemed to come out of left field.

“Who? Why… someone older, I guess. I don’t remember who, but why are you asking?”

Azuma didn’t think what name they used was that important, but Kaguya apparently thought differently.

“The truth is, I’ve actually been searching for information on the first hero that appeared. About what it looked like, and the incident it must have caused.”

Of course—that must have been why she had been pulling so many all-nighters as of late.

However, that made the fact that there were no records seem all the stranger. Even if it had been difficult to record things at the time, someone could have still written something down later, for posterity’s sake. Still…

“It’s been thirty years at this point… Whatever it is that’s been lost, I don’t see what good it would do us now.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

Kaguya fell silent. She seemed to be lost in thought.

“Lieutenant—”

“You know, Captain…,” she muttered, suddenly turning to stare out the window, her back toward Azuma. “It would be nice if life could go on like this forever, even after we enter our twenties and can no longer see the heroes.”

“What brought this on all of a sudden…?”

“Nothing. It’s just, at some point, we won’t be able to see them anymore… Heroes are the reason we’re all connected, so once we lose the ability to see them, it seems likely that we’ll all split up.”

Some of them would probably stay in the army forever, while others would leave. There was no way of knowing what would happen to Charon, but at some point their paths were going to take them separate ways. They wouldn’t get to spend time together like this.

“Even if we grow apart, we could still get together from time to time, I suppose. I guess we could go for a drink or something. With Major Mirai, and after a few years even the Director and Mari.”

“Are you worried?”

“Yes,” said Kaguya, turning around.

“As long as everyone’s still alive and have just gone their own way, I don’t see what the problem is… But that’s not what you’re really worried about, is it, Lieutenant?”

“No…”

No more people getting hurt. No more deaths, no more turning into heroes. If they could all stay as they were, alive.

“When it happened to Sakura, she told me I was our hope.”

Azuma’s eyes slowly widened. He had once said almost the same thing, though he was pretty sure Kaguya hadn’t heard him.

“That’s why I don’t want them to lose hope. No one else. Even the heroes, everyone reaching out to be saved.”

As the sun began to set, Kaguya smiled gently. Her scarlet hair was awash in the evening light, beautiful and diaphanous.

“If they want to be saved, then I have a duty to answer that wish.”

Deep down, a part of Azuma couldn’t help but feel like saving everyone was hubris. Kaguya must have spent her life in very privileged surroundings indeed to still be hanging onto such naïveté at this age.

But he didn’t necessarily think that was a bad thing. In fact, that was what made her their hope.

What made her ideals so precious and noble, however, was also what made them so dangerous, and what begged sacrifice. Azuma had the conviction and sense of responsibility to shoulder such sacrifices. If asked, the other squad members would likely say the same—in fact, Azuma was sure of it. Even if that meant giving Kaguya special treatment.

“A duty, huh? Do you really think you can save everyone on your own?”

“If anyone can do it, I can. That’s what I think,” Kaguya said without apparent reservation. It was as if she believed nothing was impossible. “So long as I’m here, we won’t let anyone else slip through the cracks, Captain.”

“No… Of course not.”

For some reason, Kaguya’s smile made Azuma feel uneasy.

No one else. As simple as that sounded, in reality, nothing could be more difficult. It was a grueling path ahead of them, but there was no way Kaguya was unaware of that. She knew. Knew, and perhaps, was willing to take on that task regardless.

“I feel the same… So long as I’m here, I won’t let anyone else die. No more sacrifices, like what happened to Sakura. That includes you and me as well. Even Second Lieutenant Takanashi.”

It was time to get serious. No more griping.

“As for the heroes—I’m not making any promises, but I’ll do what I can to help.”

“Thank you… I appreciate that, Captain Azuma.”

2-3

Even after showering, she still felt gross, like there was sand all over her body.

It was just after the fight with the sand hero. Kaguya was sitting across from Haru in the meeting hall on the first floor.

Kaguya was already well aware of why Haru had called her there.

Azuma was there as well. He had apparently been injured somewhat. His head was wrapped in bandages, but his mind seemed to be clear. He was still in top form as he glowered at Haru.

“Oh look…it’s the white knight protecting his princess,” said Haru. She quickly stifled her sneer, however, and adopted a serious expression. “Something unusual clearly happened to you during that fight. However, you snapped to after just a few seconds. And whatever happened, the sandstorm came to an end almost as soon as you woke up.”

It had been wiped away, with a swift rustle. Clearly not a natural end to a storm.

“And I’m supposed to believe this was research activity? If you’re going to lie, you could at least try to make your lies believable.”

“Watch it…,” growled Azuma, putting Haru in check.

Kaguya understood what Haru was trying to say. If their positions were reversed, Kaguya might have felt the same way herself. But there was one thing Kaguya didn’t understand.

Why hadn’t Haru brought her up on charges yet?

“You could have put forward charges from the beginning. After all, it’s true that I acted on my own and in a way that disturbed order, sowed chaos on the battlefield, and inconvenienced Captain Azuma. That would have been more than enough of an excuse. You didn’t need to learn any more.”

In fact, it was what Kaguya had been afraid of this whole time, that Haru would just string her up. So it didn’t make sense.

“The reason you didn’t do that… Is it because there is something you want to see with your own eyes? Is there, perhaps, something else you’re trying to accomplish—?”

Haru’s face was usually a stone mask. Her eyebrows twitched slightly.

“And why would I tell you something like that? You, some princess who doesn’t know the first thing about the world outside of Technical and Charon?”

Haru narrowed her eyes coldly. Kaguya felt a little miffed at being referred to as a princess.

“Everything I do falls under the rubric of inspection. I am not doing anything that is not necessary. Unlike you, who is here for no reason.”

“I have a reason. It’s just—”

Kaguya hesitated. Her reason for participating in battle was to collect information on heroes and to try to save them, but she couldn’t say something like that.

“I’m here to save people who are suffering.”

“That’s why you’re participating in battle? You think you’re saving people? Don’t make me laugh.”

There was a dark glint in Haru’s eyes, as if part of her was here, but part of her was seeing something else.

“The battlefield isn’t some party. It’s life and death, a place people only go because they have to. Crying and screaming, sometimes, but if it’s their duty, they have to. The battlefield doesn’t care if your life is in danger, or if the people most important to you die. It doesn’t care about how badly you don’t want to die—but that’s something someone like you wouldn’t know anything about, isn’t it?”

“You’re wrong. I believe I’ve seen the suffering of battle up close and personal, but even amid all that suffering, I still want to save others.”

Kaguya thought of Sakura. She could still remember clearly when Sakura turned into a hero. She would probably never forget.

Haru’s eyes shifted back to their usual, coldhearted appearance.

“Stop trying to act like a saint. Not everyone wants to be saved. Not everyone is reaching for the light. That is what you really don’t understand.”

“Not everyone wants to be saved…?” Kaguya furrowed her brow. How could anyone not want to be saved—?

“Sometimes, for people who have seen hell…sometimes the only salvation for them is to fall as far as they can go.”

“What…makes you say that…?”

“That’s none of your business.”

But the words Haru had just spoken felt like the deepest thing she had said to Kaguya yet. Up until now, everything she said had been either meaningless or a reprimand. But this time she wasn’t just lashing out at Kaguya—this was something that had come from somewhere deep inside. Haru fixed Kaguya with a serious stare, as if she had just made up her mind about something.

“I’ve decided. I am going to…”

What? Report me?

“…get to the bottom of this, of why you are doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Get…to the bottom?”

“There is plenty of time still for me to decide whether to bring you up on charges. I don’t know what happens to people who Inspection decides are a problem, but for now I still have time to get to the bottom of why you’ve been participating in battle. What it means, what it’s all worth, and your motivations.”

Kaguya caught a glimpse of emotion in Haru’s eyes that hadn’t been present before. This was more than just a moment of passion; this was real conviction on her part.

“But if it turns out that you really are just playing at being a saint, don’t expect me to show you any mercy.”

She was no longer speaking as an inspector. She was speaking for herself.

“Your behavior has been rash and thoughtless, and I am going to prove to everyone that you shouldn’t be here.”

“Do whatever you like…” Whatever Haru was going through, whatever she was thinking, it clearly didn’t have anything to do with Kaguya. “But I’m not the one who’s playing around here.”

Haru tightly pursed her lips at that comment. Everything Kaguya said probably seemed like cowardly justifications to her.

“What would you know?” she muttered softly as she left the room.

“Sorry… I should have said something.”

“No. There was nothing for you to say, Captain Azuma.”

After Haru stormed off indignantly, it was just Azuma and Kaguya.

“It seems Second Lieutenant Takanashi is more than a mere inspector after all.”

Despite her initial coldness, Haru turned out to be the most hotheaded out of all of them. There was also one other distinct difference between her and Kaguya…

“Do you…think she’s seen battle?” Kaguya muttered, her expression almost remorseful.

Those who have seen hell. That was what Haru had said. Did that include Haru? Maybe there was more to Miss High-and-Mighty than met the eye.

Kaguya had already been in several battles, but she had yet to witness true hell. The situation rarely turned dire, given how strong Charon was.

If there was one exception, it would have been when Sakura dissipated. Or to put it another way, apart from that one instance, it would be hard to say that Kaguya truly understood the tragedy of battle, or the true horror that heroes represented.

She didn’t think she needed to learn such things, but there was one point she didn’t quite understand.

The people in Charon could use Chronoses—but what about everyone else? Charon was the Bureau’s strongest squad. But to be the strongest, there had to be others you were compared to. Meaning, obviously, that there were other squads out there, besides Charon.

But the people in these squads—the ones in First Response, for instance—couldn’t use those weapons freely. They were just ordinary people.

The only way to stand up to heroes was to use weapons created from cells gathered from those same heroes. But using such weapons resulted in powerful rebounds. Did the people in the other squads just accept that as part of their job?

If so, thought Azuma, then their courage far surpasses anything we could ever be capable of.

As did their conviction. It was impressive. Azuma couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like.

Don’t they feel fear?

He thought of what he had seen during the last battle. While carrying Kaguya and approaching the hero, some sort of static had overtaken his right eye. His vision had wavered on just that side. That was when he saw it. The hero had suddenly appeared different.

Distracted by that change, Azuma had fired off a shot when he shouldn’t have.

In that instant, for some reason, I had mistaken Second Lieutenant Takanashi for the hero.

Mixing up a hero and a human shouldn’t have been possible.

Putting aside the fact that he hadn’t expected Second Lieutenant Takanashi to be there in the first place, it was his first time screwing up so badly. In the end, he still wasn’t sure what he had seen. One thing, however, was certain—whatever he kept seeing was getting clearer.

This time, it had had been much more distinct than during the last battle, almost like a lens was coming into focus. But, like always, Azuma pushed the thought down into a corner of his mind.

“I just have to make sure I don’t do it again. That’s all,” he said.

“Huh? Do what?” asked Kaguya, but Azuma intentionally ignored her question.

What did it matter at this point what he did or did not see? Even if he saw it again, all he needed to do was shoot first.

Meanwhile, Haru ground her teeth together as she exited the meeting hall. “What would you know?” she spat out, too softly for anyone to hear.

Kaguya had no idea of the real madness of battle.

She was used to being protected by the Bureau’s strongest squad. A squad so strong, in fact, that it could afford to baby her. She thought she was so brave, going in alone, when really she was being fawned over by the strongest person within that squad. She had no idea. Someone as privileged as her couldn’t possibly fathom what it was like for the rest of them.

Haru had no clue what Kaguya was trying to accomplish, but the look on her face said it all. Kaguya couldn’t even grasp why someone wouldn’t want to prance into battle like her. Haru wasn’t about to forgive such naïveté.

“It sure must be nice to have everything handed to you like that…”

The only thing motivating Haru now was the past.

Her own trauma was what drove her. She wanted to make sure that what she had gone through, and never wanted to go through again, would not happen to anyone else.

“Participating in battle in order to save people. That’s—”

…not something that anyone could do.

No, what was she saying? Kaguya Shinohara was probably just full of shit.

Because if she wasn’t, what had he died for—?

“I bet you’ve never even felt it before, that feeling of trembling in fear because you don’t want to die…”

…forced to watch as the dead depart without you.

“All right then, let’s commence the tissue processing experiment.”

Meanwhile, around the same time Kaguya and Haru were confronting each other in Charon’s meeting hall, two figures were standing in a lab room located within the Bureau’s Technical Research Lab No. 2, commonly referred to as Technical.

One of these two was a young woman with overly long black hair that reached down to her waist—the person in charge of Technical, aka the Director.

The other was a young woman with blond pigtails: Mari Ezakura.

The underground lab room they were standing in, located at the westernmost end of Technical, was not in regular use and appeared somewhat gloomy. The two were standing around a raised platform that resembled an operating table, intent at work, much like a doctor and a nurse engaged in surgery.

But the item lying on the table between them was not a patient, but a peculiar chunk of meat—not one that had come from any creature found in the natural world, however. It was about the size of a human fist, and was colored a strange mix of reds, blacks, and greens. A color that no meat should have been.

Mari swallowed hard as she stared at it. “This is…a piece of hero flesh.”

“It’s your first time seeing hero flesh up close, isn’t it?” the Director asked. “This sample was taken just recently. Some members from an on-site squad brought it here for me.”

A beautiful—and grotesque—chunk of meat.

Ignoring the Director’s comment, Mari peered at the piece of flesh closely.

“Umm, Director?” she said, raising her hand. “Don’t heroes disappear after their eggs are crushed, once they’re defeated? How can this piece of flesh still be here?”

“An excellent question. Unfortunately, I myself do not entirely understand why,” the Director replied. “Flesh that is cut off before the egg is crushed does not disappear with the egg, hence why we can attempt to process it. In any case, this particular sample is from around two and a half months ago.”

“You mean from the first hero that Kaguya…that Lieutenant Shinohara fought, correct? What was his name again…?”

“Yuuji Sakigaya. Apparently he was a child.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Mari didn’t seem particularly interested in that fact. It wasn’t that she had any ill feelings on her part, just that she didn’t feel much upon learning that a complete stranger had turned into a monster. She and the Director were in agreement on that point.

“And? What are we going to do with this thing, Director?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We are going to process it in order to create a Chronos.”

“What…?! You and me?!”

“That’s right.” The Director nodded.

“But I thought the method for creating Chronoses was lost when production was prohibited…?”

“It was. Which is why we’ll have to do it ourselves. You should feel happy, Mari. You get to participate in what is sure to be a momentous step for all humankind!”

“If you say so.”

“Of course, we’re not going to go so far as to actually work the sample yet—”

Their current experiment was focused merely on finding a way to dismantle and break down hero tissue. Otherwise, they would not be able to work on it.

“The purpose of this experiment is identifying a suitable method… It’s been done before, so with a little luck we should be able to work it out for ourselves.”

In short, their objective today was to break down the tissue. But of course, heroes were not easily damaged. The only things known to be capable of that were other heroes themselves, or Chronoses. Meaning the only method generally available to humans was to use a Chronos.

Mari took a step backward. Her eyes suddenly quavered with fear.

“B-but I don’t want to! I don’t want to lose the use of my arm!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mari. Hero flesh can only be broken down mechanically using a Chronos, which carries a burden on the user. The ones who could do so safely for us at the moment…”

In other words, the members of Charon, who for some reason did not experience Chronos rebounds.

“…are far too busy to ask, which is why we are now going to attempt a different method of breaking down the flesh,” said the Director, reaching for a nearby medicine cabinet and removing a variety of chemicals. These included powerful substances, such as hydrochloric acid, nitric acid, dilute hydrochloric acid, dilute sulfuric acid, and arsenic.

“O-oh… Don’t scare me like that, Director.”

Sighing with relief, Mari took a closer look at the chemicals. One wrong step with such powerful substances could lead to serious injury, so Mari and the Director wore specialized protective gear, which made things feel even more ominous.

“Ugh. Still, did we really have to do this here? This looks like an operating table. Why can’t we go somewhere brighter and more cheerful?”

“It doesn’t look like an operating table—it is one. Apparently, it used to be used for dissections of some kind.”

“Eeek!” Mari let out a tiny shriek. “Now I really think we should be doing this somewhere else!”

“We obviously can’t do what we’re doing where just anybody could come barging in. You’re going to have to deal with these surroundings.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better…”

Maybe it was because this operating room hadn’t been used in so long, but several of the lightbulbs had died, leaving it half in gloom. It must have been midday outside, but Mari felt a slight chill.

Although separated from its core, the egg—the greenish-black chunk of meat—maintained a faint warmth.

“Well…? Wait, what’s that?”

The Director was attaching some sort of long, thin device to the tissue sample. After connecting the sample to the device with cables, a monitor on the side of the device powered on. The Director peered at the monitor.

“What is this…?” Mari asked.

“This is a device for monitoring localized cellular reactions.”

“Monitoring? But why? This tissue is already dead… You might as well hook the device up to a piece of raw beef taken from the supermarket.”

“Actually, if anything, what we have before us is more like a fish that hasn’t been properly killed. You’ve seen videos like that before, haven’t you? Where a fish with its head cut off continues to flop around all over the place?”

“Yeah… I have seen that before.”

“Obviously there’s no black magic involved. The fish simply retains biological reflexes because it wasn’t properly killed and cleaned. In other words…” …much like fresh seafood… “…the tissue isn’t entirely dead. Remember, these were living weapons. Aren’t you curious to see what changes occur in the process of transforming it into a Chronos?”

“I’m not sure I expect anything to change…”

“For now, start by dripping some of that chemical onto the sample. Just a little bit should do.”

“Fine,” said Mari, not sounding very enthusiastic as she picked up the chemical as she was told.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

“?!”

The device suddenly made a strange sound, clearly signaling that something was wrong. The Director rushed to the monitor.

“This reaction… What is the meaning of this…?” she muttered.

“Wh-what’s happening?! I haven’t even done anything yet!”

The Director didn’t respond to Mari’s question. “A spike in stress levels? It can’t be…”

“What? Stress?” Mari furrowed her brow. “But this is just a chunk of meat, isn’t it? The original cells are already dead. Could it be an equipment malfunction?”

“Yes… That is what I would normally suspect.” The Director, however, seemed unconvinced. “But this wouldn’t be our first time witnessing the unthinkable. Results were similar then as well, in the intertwining with the heroes.”

“Intertwining? You mean, with Kaguya?”

The Director had discovered an egg inside Kaguya, another finding that had been hard to accept.

“But both Kaguya and the egg were still alive, so that at least makes some sense. These cells are already dead—there’s no reason for them to respond.”

Abnormal stress values from cells that were already dead.

Maybe it was because the sample had come from a hero. Was it possible? Something like this would seem implausible under ordinary circumstances.

“Hrrm, are you sure it’s not just a malfunction, Director? I mean, that device has been sitting there for a pretty long time, hasn’t it? Maybe some dust got into it.”

“True… We should check to be sure.”

With that, they prepared to remove the device in order to reconfigure it. Still holding the vial of solution in one hand, Mari looked at the piece of flesh—it was just silent tissue. It existed only to be processed and used by living people.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Even now, the warning alarm continued to sound. A shrill beep meant to alert the user to abnormal cellular stress levels.

“Why is it so loud?! Hurry up and turn it off!” Mari shouted, covering her ears with her hands.

A moment later the power on the monitor went out and the device grew silent.

“Hmph… This is why I hate old machines so much. They malfunction so easily,” Mari grumbled.

“Well, it’s probably hasn’t been maintained for some time.” The Director shrugged, pushing the device and monitor back into a corner. “It’s fine, though. Let’s just continue with the experiment for now.”

They began working through the procedure, carrying out general prep for observation and collection.

“This is only exploratory, so we can dismantle the tissue in any way we like. If we can do it at all, that is.”

“Umm, Director? About that—Chronoses are made from heroes, right? So if heroes can only be hurt by Chronoses, wouldn’t it be possible to dismantle this sample with a Chronos as well?”

“That’s correct. Currently, the only thing that can damage heroes and things made from heroes are Chronoses. If we wanted to break down and dismantle this sample, a Chronos would be sufficient. However, let’s suppose that dismantling and working of Chronoses can only be handled by other Chronoses. In that case, who created the first Chronos and how did they do it?”

“Well…” Mari briefly looked down at the ground but lifted her head again a moment later. “Well, whoever made that first Chronos must be out there somewhere, right? Can’t we just ask them…?”

“That would be a great idea, if we had any information on who they were. But the fact is, even though Chronoses are the only weapons capable of fighting heroes, we know exactly zip about whoever it was behind their development.”

“They’ve probably just left the Bureau, right? It’s been twenty-five years, so they must be much too old to see heroes. They may have even forgotten about them.”

Even if the person to create the first Chronos had only been ten years old at the time, they would already be thirty-five by this point—long past the age when a person lost the ability to see heroes.

Humans tended to forget that even the most precious memories faded with time. That was why so few people remembered heroes.

“Once you become an adult, you lose the ability to see them…and most who had seen a hero usually forgot about it. They convinced themselves that they had been confused, that it’s easy to get things mixed up in a disaster. If there are any exceptions, it’s likely only those who actually fought heroes.”

“There should still be traces left behind, though. Even if the actual person who created the Chronos has forgotten everything, there should still be some evidence of them. Something proving that both that person, and the Chronos, were once here…”

And yet, not a single record of the development process remained.

These were their only weapons of resistance. You would expect the Bureau to be mass producing them. So what did it mean when even the very method by which they were created had been lost?

“There is one thing that is certain, however,” the Director muttered confidently. “No matter how they are made, it is sure to be unsavory. Imagine creating a living weapon. The very idea defies sanity.”

“Just my luck, then, that you’re dragging me into this…”

“Chin up, Mari. You’re with Technical, after all. Working for me is your calling now, just like it was for Kaguya.”

“An argument so crazy that I’m actually impressed.”

Mari didn’t even bother to hide her sigh.

She dispensed a few drops of the chemical solution from earlier, though she might as well have been pouring water onto the sample. It remained completely unaffected. Before long, the two scientists had worked their way through all the substances.

“No apparent change from any of the chemicals… This is no better than trickling water onto a rock.”

The Director’s shoulders fell. She had been a little—just a little—hopeful at the start.

“The press at maximum power did nothing, exposing it to high-voltage electricity did nothing, fifty hours in the furnace did nothing, and now all these caustic chemicals did nothing as well. Is there anything left at this point…?”

“Someone did it over twenty-five years ago, though, didn’t they? Technology was less advanced back then. If they could do it, how is it possible that we can’t now?”

“Hmm… Well, there’s always a chance they used some kind of lost technology, I suppose…”

With the exception of simple acts of destruction, such as splitting a Chronos in two, they were unable to physically dismantle this substance. So how had they managed to actually work it in the past? The technology would have to be even more advanced than what would be required to break the tissue down. Even crafting a single Chronos was starting to seem like an impossible task for an amateur.

In terms of their external appearance, all Chronoses were coated in a murky green sheen and traced with meandering veinlike patterns. It was clear that creating such a thing would require more than simply breaking down tissue.

“By the way, Mari…,” the Director said in an offhanded manner, staring at the mysterious lump of matter as she spoke. Mari, who was sitting next to her, seemed to have already lost interest. “You met with Kaguya again the other day, didn’t you? I’m guessing you brought up that same topic again?”

Mari responded with silence. The Director sighed lightly as Mari stared down at the floor, almost like a pouting child.

“I thought I told you to give up on that already,” the Director told her. “I know it’s a shame she’s gone, but with her personality, she’s probably better suited to Charon anyway.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” protested Mari, still staring down at the floor as if she were having trouble holding something in.

Up until now, Mari hadn’t really talked back to the Director, not because she was docile, but because she simply couldn’t be bothered to do so.

“Kaguya is the kind to take on everything herself, even when it’s a hero involved. I know you know this, too, Director.”

“Yes. It’s certainly not a good tendency. One of her very few flaws.”

That was why the Director had said Kaguya and Azuma were well suited to each other. Yuuri Azuma exhibited that same tendency. The two were like peas in a pod.

“I’ve been by Kaguya’s side since the beginning, Director. Not that the beginning was that long ago, but it’s still way longer than she’s known those jerks over there at Charon,” said Mari, lifting her head as she said the word jerks. “If she keeps pushing herself like this, she’s going to collapse. There are always more heroes, always another to spring up in the last one’s place, but Kaguya wants to save them all. It’s not possible—no one can shoulder the burden of so many minds and not break eventually.”

This was why Mari was trying to get Kaguya back to Technical—certainly not for some childish reason, like loneliness.

“Yes, what you say is very true.” Even someone like the Director, who did not really understand human emotion, could see how this might turn out. However… “Do you think that’s something Kaguya would accept? Once Kaguya decides how things are going to be…I’m not sure even I could break down her resolve.”

Maybe if she was still at Technical, they could. But she wasn’t. She was part of the Charon special ops squad now, which was built on the premise of defeating heroes. That was the pressure she was under now.

“I do think there could be danger…”

But that was just speculation on the Director’s part. For all she knew, Kaguya was holding up just fine. Still, as Kaguya’s former boss, who could blame the Director for worrying a little?

That night, it rained fiercely.

Ten minutes had passed since word came that Charon had arrived on scene. The location was the city, in a pedestrian shopping plaza a short distance from the train station. This small but bustling section, located fairly close to residential areas, had been transformed into a scene from hell.

Shoppers had been struck by sudden localized and successive earthquakes. Those who were at the right age to see—children and students visiting—had reacted with general panic, but no one paid them any mind, assuming they were just panicking due to the earthquakes.

When the shopping district finally grew quiet once again, the only creature left was a raging monster—a hero.

At first glance, it looked like a dog. But like the watchdog of hell, this hero had three heads. One, and only one, of those heads had no face, blackened out with inky darkness instead as if to fill the void. The hero had eight legs, but they were not splayed out around its body like a spider’s—it looked more like two four-legged dogs had been forcefully spliced together. This beast had currently enshrined itself within the shopping district, its massive weight supported by its many legs.

Haru Takanashi was behaving herself, not sticking to Kaguya’s side like she usually did. She was gripping her weapon of choice, a handgun, lightly in her hand, though, of course, a weapon like that would be of no use against a hero.

“This shopping district must connect to the main road,” said Azuma, opening up communications over the wireless. “There was a traffic accident on that road about fifteen minutes ago. The victim was an eighteen-year-old boy—according to Major Mirai, video showed him jumping in front of a car.”

“You mean a suicide…”

“Yes. We have no idea why he did it, but obviously it was too much to grin and bear.”

The fearsome dog-hero was about twice as large as the crumbling pharmacy it was standing next to. It had forcefully squeezed along the narrow shopping street, leaving most of the surrounding buildings heavily damaged or on the verge of collapse.

They could see arms reaching out, apparently in search of help, from beneath where its multiple legs were planted onto the ground. Just the arms. After a brief moment, the hero, having already crushed several people, finally noticed Charon’s arrival.

“SKKRRREEEEEEEE!!”

“—!”

The beast’s ragged roar caused the air to quiver.

The squad members covered their ears. Even though the hero looked like a dog, its howl, as usual, was like an insect’s screech. Kaguya’s breath caught in her throat; the terrifyingly strange sound threw her off.

It was an interminable shriek.

As the screaming blitz faded, Rindou began to approach the creature, seeing a chance to attack. He attempted to use the creature’s three heads against it, weaving and dodging to keep the creature confused, but was instead sent flying by one of its eight legs, smacking hard into a nearby brick wall.

“Rindou!” shouted Azuma.

This here was like a wounded beast, but the injury had not come from others—it had come from itself.

After releasing another roar, the hero suddenly seemed to activate—as it spotted the humans, its natural target for propagation, it lowered its massive body into a pouncing stance.

Everyone scattered on the spot. A moment later the beast’s massive body, which must have weighed several hundred kilograms, crashed to the ground where they had just been standing.

“Captain Azuma! Where is the egg?!”

“In its throat!”

A gunshot immediately rang out. Having just leaped into the air, the hero was apparently unable to react. A gaping hole opened up in the creature’s body where its second leg on the right side met its torso.

Koyuki had positioned herself on the tallest building in the area, where she wielded her Chronos, which took the form of an anti-materiel rifle. The force of the shot knocked her back slightly—not due to any organic rebound caused by the Chronos, but rather due to the simple physical recoil.

The hero turned in Koyuki’s direction, blood running from the wound where the shell had hit. Its rightmost head howled; it was as if the creature was telling her not to interfere.

“GWWARR—”

The hero leaped toward Koyuki. She immediately fled, jumping to the roof of the building behind her.

“Ah—?!!”

However, Haru, who was standing nearby, was clipped by the creature’s charge.

“Second Lieutenant Takanashi?!”

Kaguya felt her blood run cold. She couldn’t hear Haru’s voice. However—

“It’s okay, it looks like she’s just unconscious,” Koyuki reported quickly.

Kaguya sighed in relief.

“It’s fast for its size—this is going to be a pain. Let’s take care of this one quickly, Lieutenant.”

Azuma was closer than Kaguya expected. He brushed dirt and liquid from some sort of spilled product off his uniform.

“That thing is too fast to get close to. If it could be immobilized, that would be a big help. Do you think you can manage it?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it gets done,” Kaguya said with determination. She gave her club a swing.

At first Sakura’s weapon had been too heavy for her, but she barely noticed its weight at this point. All she had to do was give that hulking beast one good whack and victory would be theirs.

“Captain Azuma. Would you mind taking point?”

“You didn’t even need to ask.”

Kaguya ran behind Azuma, sticking close to his back. He served as a shield against the bits of debris and rubble that were sent flying due to the fighting.

While they were moving, Kaguya let her thoughts wander toward the unconscious Haru. Haru had told Kaguya that if she was just playing at being a saint, she would show her no mercy.

Maybe that’s what I was doing at first.

Her whole goal had been to learn more about the heroes—that was all. But after what had happened to Sakura, and after becoming a member of Charon, Kaguya now had two priorities.

Her first goal: Complete her research.

And her second: Save the heroes in front of her. Not someday, but now.

A powerful headache hit Kaguya with a rush, like her whole body was on fire. Instead of fighting that feeling, Kaguya swung her club as if she was reaching out. She swung it as hard as she could.

“…Ouch…”

Carried by her own momentum, Kaguya toppled over with a weird little cry.

She stood up and glanced around, cradling her knee, which she had hit hard against the ground. Everything was quiet here, unlike the shopping district a moment ago.

“Is this…a walking trail?”

She was standing on an esplanade running along a river embankment. It seemed to be early autumn, because the air was pleasantly cool.

On her left, a small river flowed past, the other bank clearly visible. The weather was clear and sunny; these interior worlds reflected a person’s ideal reality, so the climate was often nice. Sunlight reflected beautifully off the surface of the water.

Underneath that majestic blue sky, Kaguya began to walk forward, traveling farther and father, as if drawn by something. Where was the human inside this hero? As Kaguya continued to walk forward, almost compelled, she suddenly bumped into something with a thud.

“Ack!” Kaguya shouted and rubbed her forehead. Some sort of clear wall was blocking the way forward.

It was like the air had turned into a glass barrier. She could see the path as it stretched out endlessly into the distance, but she couldn’t make her way there.

These idealized worlds reflected the person’s own wishes. In other words, they manifested their hearts’ utmost desires. It seemed no outsiders were permitted beyond this point.

“Well, now what…?”

She knew the person had to be on the other side of this barrier. She could still go back, the wall only stopped her from moving forward, which meant the person inside was rejecting Kaguya.

“Ah…!”

While dithering in place, Kaguya spotted a shadow traversing along the path toward her. A young man, calm and serious looking. Kaguya immediately knew he was the lord of this world.

The boy was walking two dogs, a Maltese and a golden retriever. Despite the difference in size, the dogs seemed to get along with each other well.

“Hey,” said Kaguya, waving her hand.

The boy noticed her immediately. That made sense, since she was standing directly in his path.

He approached her, unguarded. Kaguya flashed a smile. The boy turned slightly red and waved back, as if embarrassed. On first impression, he didn’t seem that bad.

“Hello,” said Kaguya, attempting to act as natural as possible, as if they were just bumping into each other on the side of this path by coincidence.

Although hesitant, the boy returned her greeting. He seemed to be a very serious young man.

As he approached, an uncomfortable expression appeared on his face. He had ordinary black hair, and guileless eyes of a similar color. His skin was the same shade as Kaguya’s. They were probably about the same age as well.

She didn’t recognize his face. Naturally, as this was her first time meeting him. Now that they were close, about the same distance you would stand from a stranger you just happened to pass in this way, she could see that the boy’s guard was now up.

Not that it really matters.

“Are you going for a walk? Your dogs are really cute.”

“Y-yes. Um, I’m sorry, who are you…?”

“I’m Kaguya. Kaguya Shinohara.”

Kaguya was pretty sure he wasn’t asking for her name, although she pretended otherwise. She waited in presumptuous silence for the boy to introduce himself.

Unable to resist, he stammered his own name. “Sh-Shinji Takamura.”

“That’s a nice name,” said Kaguya, not really meaning it.

Maybe it was his age, but the boy standing in front of her seemed to be a pure soul. He seemed to take Kaguya’s words to heart, his cheeks turning slightly red, even if she was just being polite.

He was just an ordinary young man.

It’s up to me to save him, thought Kaguya.

This was it. The clear wall stood in her way so she couldn’t go to him, but they could still exchange words.

Kaguya turned the conversation to the boy’s dogs, and he immediately took the bait. By this point his mild suspicions had already been laid to rest, and he seemed to have opened up a bit.

“What are their names?”

“Umm… This one is Melon, and this one is Clementine.”

After learning their names, Kaguya crouched down to make eye contact with the dogs.

A Maltese and a golden retriever. She stared into their four round eyes.

Disgusting.

At first glance, the Maltese and golden retriever, staring up at her in sync, seemed like just two normal dogs. But she spotted something black and insectile swarming deep within their eyes.

No doubt about it… These are the Goddess.

The Goddess didn’t always take on a human form—rather, she took the shape of whatever was most precious to the person in question.

“Is this…where you always take them to walk?”

“Huh? Well, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“How long have you been here today?”

The boy made a funny face. “What do you mean, how long? I’ve been here from the beginning…”

“From…the beginning? What time, hours and minutes?”

“I already told you, from the beginning. From way, way back.”

The boy wasn’t making sense. Right now, he lived in the world he was seeing. The two dogs began moving in circles at Shinji’s feet.

Still smiling, Kaguya narrowed her eyes; she recognized the Goddess’s characteristic insect-like appearance concealed within the dogs’ eyes. They were trying to lure the boy away.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to remember. How long did you say you’ve been here?”

“I already told you—” Shinji cocked his head, searching his memory. “Wait. How long have I been here…?”

For the first time, Shinji realized he couldn’t remember. That realization seemed to be slightly terrifying for him, because he forced a smile as if to chase the thought away.

“Why are you even asking, though? Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters. It matters very much, Shinji Takamura.”

Shinji grunted noncommittally, like he was just pretending to listen but didn’t really care deep down.

“You can’t remember when you started walking those dogs, can you, Shinji?”

“…So what if I can’t? Makes no difference to me.”

Shinji seemed put out. By all means he should have been able to remember, but he really didn’t think it was that strange. The Goddess had already encroached deep into his mind.

But there was still time. It wasn’t too late for him.

Shinji needed to speak the truth for himself. He needed to abandon this world of his own accord.

“Shinji, please listen closely to what I have to say. This is something that matters very much for you.”

Shinji nodded, apparently shaken by Kaguya’s serious expression.

“It occurred to you just now, didn’t it, that you can’t remember where you were coming from, or how long you’ve been walking here? Why do you think that is?”

“What do you mean, why—? I don’t see why that matters.”

“But it does matter… This is an idealized world that you created yourself. At the moment, you’ve turned into something that isn’t human.”

Shinji furrowed his brow and stared blankly, not as if he was unwilling to accept what she said, but rather that he simply didn’t understand.

Kaguya pressed him further, not allowing his deadpan expression to deter her.

“Your Goddess…” Kaguya lowered her gaze, toward the two dogs. “It’s these two—isn’t it?”

The Maltese and the golden retriever stared up at Kaguya in sync. Something black and insectile teemed deep within those eyes.

“What…? What are you talking about?”

“The creatures that turn humans into monsters known as ‘heroes.’”

“…Ohh…”

Shinji looked exasperated, as if something had just dawned on him. It was plain to see—he thought she was nuts. But from his point of view, that would be a natural reaction, so Kaguya was ready for it.

“Oh, you’re one of those… Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. See you later, Kaguya.”

Shinji gave a perfunctory smile, like he was trying to sweep their whole interaction under the rug. He quickly began to take his leave.

“Wait!” Kaguya shouted.

Of course he stopped.

“Your dogs—those two. Aren’t they already dead?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, time in that world seemed to stop.

The esplanade began to twist and distort. It was like a picture, drawn on paper, was suddenly being crumpled up into a ball.

Several seconds later, everything became closed in, turning dark and dreary.

She could hear a whooshing sound coming from all directions. It was a rainy night. There was little light, just a few peculiar streetlights that spotted the shadows.

They seemed to be in an abandoned lot of some sort, and the bodies of two dead dogs were lying on the ground. The two dogs that Shinji had been walking were now gone.

Shinji was alone, faced with the bodies of his beloved pets.

Kaguya could tell, from the way things appeared, that this was a mental picture. Melon and Clementine were dead, after all. And the boy—he had witnessed it.

“Do you remember now…? What happened to your dogs…?”

“Yeah.”

His voice was deep, dark, and as sharp as a knife, sending a cold shudder down Kaguya’s spine.

But she couldn’t back off now. The trust between them might have been shaky, but she needed to move quickly. There was no time.

“Why did you have to make me remember…?” His voice was full of anger. “Is that why you came here, just to tell me this? You’re sick, you know that?”

“Let’s head back, Shinji…” In spite of Shinji’s aversion, Kaguya spoke quickly and desperately. “There’s still time for you to return to the human world. What…what happened to your dogs…was just awful.”

Shinji turned to glare at Kaguya over his shoulder, clearly hostile. Although she had expected this, the hostility was not a good sign.

Unfortunately, now that he realized those two creatures, so precious to him, were already dead, she could hardly lie and say they were alive.

“Shinji—take a good look. At their eyes.”

At some point, the rain had stopped, and the sky was growing brighter. Glancing around, Kaguya realized they were back on the original esplanade. Beneath that clear, bright sky, Shinji’s face alone remained dark. The two dogs that should have been dead, however, were once again milling happily around his feet.

“Those aren’t the two dogs that you knew and loved.”

She had to make him abandon his refuge in the Goddess. Had to make him see it was fake.

“Come back to us, Shinji!”

“If they’re fake, then what about me…?” the boy spat, his eyes smoldering darkly. “What’s happened to me? Why am I here? You know that, too, don’t you?”

Kaguya nodded softly. “You’ve turned into something not human. You’ve become a monster, and are inflicting carnage on everything around you. I’ve entered your mind.”

“Oh, have you? Well, I suppose that makes as much sense as anything. How else could a world like this exist, after all?”

A wind began blowing softly along the esplanade. Cold and wintry, symbolic of loneliness and loss.

“Y-yes, that’s right. Now let’s go back together, Shinji.”

Kaguya extended her hand. The wall of air wouldn’t let her pass, but Shinji could probably reach across to take her hand if he chose to.

“You can still become human again. You can be saved! So—”

“No.”

With one word, the boy turned his back to her as if they had nothing else to say to each other.

“No—? How can you say that?”

She thought he had understood. Kaguya’s eyes went wide. How could it have all fallen apart so easily?

“Those two dogs—they’re not the ones that you know! How can you allow this, knowing that they’re fakes…?!”

Kaguya had experienced something similar, so she understood. The false brother that had appeared to her during her own transformation had been gentle and kind, but Kaguya had still chosen her real brother—the brutish, scarier one.

“Those two dogs are not—”

“Be quiet!” Shinji frowned slightly. He seemed to be on the verge of losing it. “What do you know about me? Showing up here out of the blue and acting so self-important? Who gives a shit about the human world? Humans are the ones who really frighten me—they’re the real monsters, if you ask me.”

Kaguya persisted. Not all humans were frightening, not all humans were monsters. Even if it was just sophistry, she had to say it.

“At the very least, I’m not like that! Please…”

“Go away…!”

The boy’s surroundings suddenly distorted, growing blurry, the way the world looks when there are tears in your eye.

One of the dogs barked. They looked back at the boy and began walking away, almost as if urging him on. The boy seemed to hesitate, but didn’t seem to be disgusted by the creature. Instead, it seemed like he looked at them with hope.

Slowly, Kaguya took a step forward. But with the wall blocking her, she couldn’t continue any farther.

“Shinji, don’t—!!”

But even as she shouted, the boy—

“Go away…!”

The moment he said it, the boy suddenly felt lighter, giddy, a ray of light suddenly breaking through to reach him. A light that could wipe away the dark shadows that even now smoldered within him. Shinji suddenly opened his eyes.

Here in this vast yet ephemeral world. Beneath that light, the path before him could lead absolutely anywhere. For some reason, he understood clearly that this path was where he needed to go.

“Shinji, don’t—!!”

“…”

However, someone was still stopping him.

Shinji glanced down his nose apathetically at the scarlet-haired girl’s extended hand. He didn’t exactly want to push her away, but he couldn’t help but feel it was far too late for something like this.

“Shinji, I don’t know what sort of people you’ve known in your life…but please don’t think that everyone out there is like that…!”

Even now the girl tried to plead her own goodness. The naïveté almost made Shinji want to throw up—the way she tried to tie everything up in a neat bow without really understanding anything. He was starting to feel something akin to hostility toward her.

“I get it,” he replied, in a tone that did not conceal his irritation. “You’re trying to say that not all people are bad, right? I don’t think every one of the six billion people living in that world are bad, either.”

“Then, why…?”

“Because everyone I’ve met has been,” he said, smacking the girl’s hand away.

Not all people are bad? It was hardly his first time hearing such childish nonsense. What comfort was that supposed to bring?

If not everyone was bad, then why hadn’t a few of the people he had known at least been decent? Every time he met someone who seemed to be just a little better than the rest, they turned out to be even worse in the end.

Shinji understood perfectly well what the girl was getting at. Imagine being able to say something so naive with a straight face. It made him jealous.

She didn’t realize, and wasn’t interested in realizing, just how privileged she was.

“It’s my fault that Melon and Clementine died.”

The girl’s eyes went wide as saucers, stunned. Of course. She probably hadn’t even considered the possibility he, the owner, could have been the cause of his dogs’ deaths.

“Wh-why do you say that…?”

“If I had just been paying more attention…”

That was why he had almost gotten into that accident. He’d been looking down at his smartphone while he walked.

It happened alongside a road, by a deserted lot. The road was narrow and difficult to see, and the car had been an electric vehicle, so he hadn’t heard it approach until it was already near. On top of that, the driver had been sleep-deprived. With all those factors added together, he should have died—and would have, had Melon and Clementine not saved him.

He could still remember the incident. It had been a rainy night—that’s right, it had been nighttime. Why had he been out walking so late? He remembered now. The truth was, he had been trying to die. Betrayed, and left at his lowest. But his dogs were clever and had picked up on what he was feeling. They had followed him. And then.

I may as well have killed them myself.

“Melon and Clementine were such good, loving dogs. They were my everything.”

“Then…that’s all the more reason not to accept the Goddess—not to accept these two!” the girl shouted, desperate for something to grasp at. “Not much time has passed since you turned into a hero. You might still be able to become human again! If you really care about your dogs, you should go back to the real world so you can hold a funeral for them and—”

“What will going back do?!” Shinji was past hope. In less than twenty years alive, he had given up on human affection. “What will going back do? What…what good do you think that will do me?”

“What good…? Don’t you see? People are getting—”

“That again? What does it matter? Who cares anymore—?”

Shinji suddenly envied the girl standing before him. She genuinely seemed to think that not hurting people was so wonderful and great. She probably didn’t understand how it felt for people who had been pushed so far they no longer had a choice.

“Even if this isn’t the real Melon and Clementine—” He knew, of course—knew that they were fake. “If I can be with them, I’d rather still be here.”

“Shinji… What happened in your life? Why…?”

Kaguya’s face looked pained, as if she was struggling to deal with this. A frustrated look seemed to say that she didn’t understand how he could think that way.

At the moment, Shinji could see clearly. There was no chance of he and this girl ever seeing eye to eye. After all, she was still human.

“And besides, right now…my friends are out there…”

“Of course. Now I get it. You’re just here to save your friends,” he said, intentionally choosing his words to be nasty. “You think that if you can trick me into thinking whatever you want, you’ll be able to save your friends out there. It doesn’t really matter what happens to me, does it? You don’t really care.”

The girl looked shocked by what he said. He smirked slightly.

“You pretend you’re so worried about me, but you’re just thinking about yourself… I guess humans really are all the same in the end.”

Shinji wasn’t angry. He hadn’t expected anything more in the first place. He could see she wasn’t a bad person. There was no real reason for him to get mad.

But his mind was already made up, that was all. He was going to follow that light.

“Well, I guess that’s all there is to say. See you.”

“—?! Shinji, no! If you don’t stop, you’ll kill people…!”

“And what’s wrong with that? They’re just people. Who cares how many of them die?”

“B-but…”

“I’ll leave the details up to your imagination, but that’s the way that life has taught me to think,” Shinji said, turning his back to her.

Before he left, he had a thought—or perhaps it was a realization—seeing the way the girl wouldn’t give up.

“Maybe…this is just my imagination…” It had been on his mind since the beginning. “But you look at me without really seeing me. You’re constantly somewhere else, thinking about something else. All those feelings. It seems like you’re not doing this for others, it seems like you’re doing it for yourself.”

That’s not true, the girl seemed to want to reply, but the words froze on her lips. Judging from the look on her face, what he said had hit close to home. She was silent. Ignoring her, he cast his eyes off into the distance.

“Of course… There must have been others out there like me.”

The girl seemed used to doing this, so he probably hadn’t been the first. There must have been others out there, like him. He laughed slightly. Was this song and dance what she did every time? What a waste.

He wouldn’t go so far as to say that what she was doing was malicious, but it was foolish at the least.

“You’ve come all this way, so let me share one thing with you, Kaguya Shinohara,” he said, holding up his hand to stop Melon, who had already started to leave, so he could deliver one last message to the girl. “What you’re doing here is just narcissism. Violence through ignorance. You’re intoxicated with the thought of seeing yourself as a savior.”

“…?!”

“You come from your privileged position to run roughshod over other people…but you don’t realize just how privileged you are. You don’t believe you’re doing anything to anyone. You don’t even realize that what you’re doing is a kind of violence. That’s what makes me so jealous.”

So privileged that she couldn’t imagine that there were people who held a grudge against reality.

“There are probably other people out there like me who have given up on everything—who would rather live here, even knowing that it is a lie, if the alternative is to return to a reality where everything is terrible.”

“That can’t be true…!”

“It’s true for me, right here, right now. If salvation was possible, even I would take it. But salvation isn’t you. Someone like you, who doesn’t know anything, who is only capable of spouting naive nonsense. You could never save us.”

Reality was so tedious and awful, the boy was certain other people out there would rather live here. Others must feel the same, even if he had never met them.

And so—to those he had met, and to those he never would, farewell.

“You’re going to repeat the same thing with them as well, aren’t you…? Then let me say one thing, for their sakes. You can spout all the flowery nonsense you like from your ivory tower, but the more you say…”

The boy turned his back to the light—to that thing that appeared like light to him.

“…the less we will want to return to reality. You don’t know anything. You’re not welcome here. If you understand that, just leave us alone already.”

Clementine barked. As if in response, the scene once again began to change.

Shinji knew the girl was right. This was probably just a dream world with nothing in it but himself, Melon, and Clementine. Nothing else was needed.

The moment he wished for that, a wind enveloped Kaguya Shinohara. The scarlet-haired girl extended a hand in his direction, tears in her eyes.

“…!”

The sight of those tears made him feel something, slightly, just ever so slightly. No one had ever cried for him in his past life.

If I had met someone like her earlier, maybe my life really would have been just a little bit more decent…

Azuma’s wound was not that serious.

Or at least, that was what he insisted.

“It’s just a little chunk out of my left side. What’s the big deal?” he murmured, half-conscious, as the others forced him into the back seat of the transport van. With the exception of the few who had to stay behind to hand things over to cleanup, they all got in with him.

Kaguya sat down in the seat directly in front of Azuma. Her gaze was slightly downcast, and the remorse in her eyes made it hard to believe that the battle was over.

From Kaguya’s perspective, after all, it had not been a victory. She hadn’t been able to save the boy in the end. She also had another reason to feel remorseful, one that was currently lying on his side in the seat behind her.

It was clearly a serious injury, but between the post-battle overload of adrenaline and the sedatives they had half-forcefully pumped into him, Azuma didn’t seem to be feeling much pain. If anything, he appeared to think they were all overreacting.

“Azuma, dude—are you okay? You don’t seem very bothered by all of this.”

“What? Me? This is nothing. I’m peachy keen.”

“You know you’ve got a hole in your side? Even if you are pumped full of sedatives, it’s kind of strange that you don’t look paler.” Rindou was visibly awestruck. “Still, I guess someone as resilient as you isn’t going to die from a thing like this. That wound will be better in no time. You’ve got stamina to spare!”

“That’s true, but… Erk!”

Azuma’s face suddenly twisted into a grimace and he lay back down. Kaguya couldn’t stop herself from leaning over the back of the seat to check on him. A bump in the road seemed to have caused him some pain, but he held his open hand up as if to indicate that he was okay.

“Captain Azuma, maybe we should put you in an ambulance after all…”

“Oh, that’s right… You don’t know, do you, Lieutenant?” Azuma laughed even while his face turned a funny shade of green. “We can’t go to normal hospitals, even with wounds like this. It would be obvious from a glance that something unusual had happened, after all.”

It was a gash in his side. If they weren’t careful, it could easily turn into something serious.

“There’s a specialized facility—a place run by allies such as Major Mirai.”

The people who supported the Extermination Bureau in this way were adults who had originally been in the Bureau themselves. Obviously people such as them weren’t going to forget about heroes so easily. They never attempted to gather support from the broader public, however, as anything they tried to say would simply fall on deaf ears.

After sending Azuma to the infirmary, the other members of Charon headed to their rooms. As the only other member to get injured—though not nearly as seriously as Azuma—Rindou made for the infirmary as well.

“Come on, there’s no need to look so down,” he said on the way, in a rare display of affability. “It’s not like this is your fault, you know—it couldn’t be helped.”

“Yeah, Kaguya. You did your best. You shouldn’t get so depressed over one failure,” Koyuki added from behind. “This may not be the nicest way to put it, but when you think about how many people you’ve saved so far, something like this was bound to happen once or twice.”

The word failure made Kaguya twitch. Koyuki was right, though; this was just a tactical failure. Maybe it really was unavoidable.

One or two defeats were bound to happen, but this “once” had also been a boy’s life.

As soon as the person inside the hero rejected her, Kaguya should have immediately thrown in the towel. Then maybe Azuma wouldn’t have gotten so injured. She tried to have it both ways, and instead ended up hurting them both.

Kaguya had thought she understood. Their opponents were heroes, but they had once been humans as well. But because they were humans, that meant they didn’t all think the same way. The boy’s words were still stuck in her mind.

“You pretend you’re so worried about me, but you’re just thinking about yourself.”

She had been so far up on her high horse while dealing with that boy inside the dog-hero. How could she forget?

But human emotions were not so easily controlled.

“We are human. And the heroes were originally humans as well.”

Human hearts and wills were not all alike. Kaguya could talk herself blue in the face, but some people were not going to accept what she had to say.

She had convinced herself that so long as she explained it properly, people would see the wisdom of her words. But why had she been so sure? Was it because she had once turned back into a human herself?

“Not everyone wants to be saved.”

“Just leave us alone already.”

The words still echoed in her ear. People could know the truth and still reject it.

“I think I might need to have another talk with Second Lieutenant Takanashi…”

Meanwhile—at Technical, in the Director’s personal lab.

“Can you hear me, Yuuji Sakigaya?”

The Director, Lieutenant Colonel Yuuna Arimura, was sitting in her chair, speaking to a petri dish enshrined on the desk before her. Or, more specifically, to the fragment of hero cells found within that dish.

“If you can hear me, respond, Yuuji Sakigaya.”

Naturally, the cells made no answer. Nor, of course, did they move. The liquid filling the petri dish, however, gradually turned red, as if in response to something.

“Hmm. A clear reaction.”

The Director collected a small amount of that red liquid and placed it inside one of the test tubes sitting to the side. There were over a dozen test tubes lined up on the desk, each containing various colored liquids.

“Now then, let’s move on. Next we—”

“Director—?”

The Director turned around in surprise. Mari was standing there, looking uncomfortable.

“U-um, the lights were on, so I came to check on things… What are you doing? That’s a petri dish, right? You’re talking to a petri dish? You haven’t finally gone mad, have you…?”

“No. Come inside quickly and close the door,” said the Director, annoyed at being interrupted.

Mari quickly shut the door.

“I am not talking to the petri dish. I am talking to these cells.”

“Is…is there a difference? Maybe you should take a rest, Director.”

Mari stared at the Director gingerly, causing her to deflate slightly. If she was in Mari’s position, she probably would have said the same thing.

“This is like a response test, to ascertain the presence of any sentience.”

“With a bunch of cells…? Maybe you’re not aware of this, but cells are definitely not sentient.”

“Mari…,” said the Director, exhausted, having long since realized how mired Mari was in her ideas. “I haven’t been able to get those abnormal stress values from the other day out of my mind. I’ve modified the conditions several times, and the response changes slightly depending on certain variables. I tried saying the name Yuuji Sakigaya to this piece of flesh as well, and the response values clearly increased.”

Ever since they had detected that stress response from the piece of flesh, the Director had not been able to get the incident out of her mind. Using more sophisticated measurement devices, she had discovered that it showed subtle changes in temperature as well. Now she had learned that those temperature changes correlated to specific words—such as when she said the boy’s name, from before it had become a hero.

“Well, you’ve already caught me, and I’ve gotten everything I can from this experiment. These cells need to be disposed of now.”

“Oh, then…should we wash them down the drain? I can take care of that for you,” Mari said with an innocent look in her eyes.

The Director glanced at her and snorted. “That seems rather cruel, Mari. How would you feel, adrift in the sewers for all eternity, unable to escape consciousness?”

“Huh?”

“Think of how tough it must be, even as a weapon, to be reduced to something like this and still unable to die.”

The Director stood up from her chair with a squeak. An ax-shaped Chronos was waiting next to her seat.

This was the same tool she had used to break Sakura’s previous weapon. Just as she had done then, the Director pointed the blade of the ax downward and moved it closer to the petri dish.

With a sudden explosive crack, the petri dish split in two. The red liquid inside the dish splattered every which way. Mari watched in astonishment as the Director spoke again.

“Can you hear me, Yuuji Sakigaya?”

Despite saying his name again, there was no response this time—not at first, but the red liquid gradually grew clear, as if to indicate some sort of release. Perhaps he had escaped his eternal suffering.

The Director’s strange behavior had left Mari speechless.

“Sorry, what—?”

“I’ve been researching what causes Chronoses to rebound for some time.”

“O-okay…”

Mari was used to the Director suddenly changing the topic.

“Well, without getting into too many details, I was able to determine that these rebounds seem to be the result of some kind of willful resistance.”

There was almost a question mark floating above Mari’s head. The Director got straight to the point.

“Basically, Chronoses are more than mere weapons. They are the end result of people who have become heroes.”

“Wh-what are you trying to say?”

“For instance, this ax that I’m currently holding… From what I could find, this ax came from a hero that was originally a fifteen-year-old girl.”

Mari nodded slowly. The names of heroes weren’t public information, but you could find out their past age and sex if you looked hard enough.

“She became a hero, and was supposedly killed as a hero. However, her consciousness is still with us even now, Mari. It can see us standing here, hear our voices, and correctly perceive. If it has awareness and consciousness, it must have emotion, and yet it cannot speak.”

“But it doesn’t have eyes, ears, or a brain…” Mari took a step back from the Director. “Director, I… That doesn’t…”

“You find it hard to believe?”

“No, it’s not that I find it hard to believe—but if it were true, how would you confirm something like that? It can’t move, so there’s no real way to be sure, is there?”

“Even if a thing is unable to express its intent, there will be clear responses to show it is alive. This liquid”—the Director pointed to the petri dish—“is designed to change color based on stress experienced by the creature inside. The stronger the stress, the redder it grows. You see this vial here? It is as red as blood. That is because, up until a moment ago, I was saying very hurtful things to it.”

“Er, th-that’s cruel.”

“Is it? It was just a stress tolerance test.”

Mari saw her point.

“But do you see how red it is? The fact that it could experience such powerful levels of stress just from words proves that it must be able to hear.”

The test tubes lined up on the desk contained liquid collected under a variety of stress loads. The Director had been investigating what factors caused the most stress.

“This Yuuji Sakigaya certainly led a miserable life… Poor thing, stuck in this world even after becoming a hero.”

“Y-you mean, they’re dead, but still alive?”

“But they’re not dead, Mari. Well, not this one. This one is dead now.”

Creatures that remained trapped within their egos in this world—not truly alive, with no way to attract notice or plead their case, and incapable of being saved.

“You’ve heard of locked-in syndrome, haven’t you? Where a person retains clear consciousness but, for whatever reason, is unable to so much as blink an eye or otherwise show that they are conscious. This is the same phenomenon. One difference, though, is that these weapons are capable of rebounding. In fact, when applying electrical voltage, the sample showed slight signs of apparent resistance. Rebounds are likely based on more dramatic cases of resistance.”

Mari’s face grew increasingly serious and pale. Perhaps the conversation was finally starting to sink in. A look of realization appeared on her face.

“Hold on,” she said, her voice rising shrilly. “Kaguya and the others—the ones doing the fighting, over at Charon. They don’t know about this, do they?”

“Correct. The only people who know right now are me and you.”

“If they don’t know…shouldn’t we tell them?”

“What good would that do? It’s not like they can just stop using Chronoses. In fact, if Charon decided not to pick up another Chronos again, it would spell massive setbacks for the human race. They don’t need to know this…let alone that these weapons can feel pain.”

The Director glanced at the broken petri dish and the hunk of flesh, now swimming in fluid.

“For instance, Second Lieutenant Rindou Yumeura’s Chronos is a set of brass knuckles. What would it mean for a weapon like that to be sentient, possessed of awareness and the ability to feel pain?”

“Would it mean…that every time Second Lieutenant Yumeura punched some hero with those knuckles, he was causing the person inside the weapon incredible pain…?”

“Exactly. It would be like getting punched yourself. The experience for swords and guns is likely similar. With guns, the sensation of gunpowder exploding inside you and the friction and heat of the bullets must be unbearably painful.”

Consider the guns used by Koyuki Asaharu. She had multiple weapons, for short- and long-distance. That involved no small number of shots being fired every day.

“With swords, the direct impact felt when slicing through flesh is likely far from pleasant. On top of that, katanas get chipped with each strike, which probably feels like being cut, themselves—there is also the friction and heat each time the sword is sheathed or unsheathed. It would be as if their very soul was on fire.”

Azuma used a katana. The number of times he must have slashed with that weapon was overwhelming. The chipping. The unsheathing.

“The same goes for clubs. Mari, imagine for instance being tied up with rope, and then being swung around in the air and forcefully bashed into all sorts of hard surfaces.”

Mari pictured it. The weapon that Sakura had once used, and that Kaguya used now—what it must have been feeling inside. Her face twisted up.

“It…must have been in incredible pain…”

“Most likely. Consider how fortunate we are in comparison, simply being able to tell others we are in pain.”

The Director stroked the ax. Not lovingly, but as if to confirm the sensation.

“They can’t even scream. So long as they remain weapons, they cannot dispense with consciousness… Perhaps it was a relief for Captain Azuma’s sword when it broke in half.”

Mari’s expression grew dark. She glanced at the row of colorful test tubes.

“Knowing this, do you still plan to create new Chronoses, Director? To create more tragedies?”

“Of course I do,” said the Director, unmoved. “That is my duty, after all. There’s no reason to get shaken up over something as trivial as this. Not at this stage.”

Even if it meant endless suffering for those who had committed no sin, the Director would leave questions of conscience to someone else.

Blam. The sound of a Chronos gunshot rippled through the air of the training center beneath Bureau headquarters.

Koyuki was engaged in target practice. There wasn’t much point in such training for her, but she needed to do something to keep her thoughts occupied.

She had a lot to worry about at the moment.

Surprisingly, Azuma’s condition wasn’t among those worries.

First of all, it wasn’t like he was going to die from such a little wound. Koyuki, Rindou, and the other members of Charon all knew that. The only one who seemed down in the dumps since that day was Kaguya. Actually, it was Kaguya’s behavior that had Koyuki so worried.

The burden Kaguya carried on her shoulders was greater than even Kaguya herself was aware of. Did she understand? That trying to save everyone meant not being able to save yourself? It didn’t seem like she did.

Take right now, for instance. Kaguya and Rindou were over there, fighting in the adjacent training space.

Why were they sparring like this? For some reason, Kaguya had gotten it into her head that she wanted to take combat training, and Rindou had agreed to teach her. So here they were.

Whatever. I guess it doesn’t matter, thought Koyuki as she practiced on her own. Another shot filled the air.

She wasn’t going to try to stop them.

But there was always a limit to how perfect a person could be. It seemed like Kaguya was trying to act like some kind of saint and take on everything, take on too much, for herself.

Of course Koyuki worried.

Not that she could do any of it in Kaguya’s place. Koyuki couldn’t enter into these hero worlds, or whatever they were.

Still, though.

“I wish she would at least talk to me.”

Koyuki only listened, purposely avoiding glancing toward the adjacent space where the two were training. When Kaguya decided to start training with Rindou, she hadn’t mentioned a thing to Koyuki even though she and Kaguya shared a room.

“That hurt…!”

Kaguya landed hard on her behind, still gripping her club.

Her scarlet hair was tied back, and instead of her usual restrictive uniform, she was wearing a simple athletic training suit. The outfit was the same color as her violet eyes and soaked up all her sweat. She found it to be extremely hot.

Rindou, meanwhile, was still in his uniform. An obvious handicap.

“It hurt? Are you surprised? You need to break your fall and roll.”

“I…I did…!”

“If you did you wouldn’t be on your ass right now… Besides, I’m only using about a tenth of my strength. I barely touched you.”

Kaguya had been the one, after psyching herself up, to ask Rindou to train her. They wound up sparring one-on-one, just as Rindou had suggested before, but Kaguya was so outmatched it was almost laughable. Now that she was getting over her disappointment and exasperation, however, it was actually starting to become fun.

Kaguya’s conditions for victory were simple: all she had to do was land one hit to Rindou’s face.

Those requirements would have been easy for Rindou—not so for Kaguya. In fact, it was practically a fool’s errand.

How am I supposed to compete with his core strength?

The way he moved on his feet. His stamina. The subtle way his eyes changed focus. The manner in which he extended his arms. Even the savage, almost unhinged smile that floated across his face. Kaguya stood no chance.

Maybe this wasn’t for her after all.

After her conversation with Haru, she had decided to give it a try, but…

Kaguya hesitated, which caused her to blatantly telegraph her next move.

“O-ow…!”

She was knocked off her feet.

It was almost like Rindou had read her thoughts. He sneered down at her as he saw the fight go out of her eyes.

“Is that all you’ve got, Kaguya? Giving up so soon?”

“Huh…”

“Just gonna sit on your ass now that things look hard? I expected more from you.”

Kaguya pouted slightly. What made it more infuriating was that she knew he was trying to encourage her, not just make fun of her.

Rindou was not the best when it came to positive reinforcement. This was probably his idea of being kind.

Kaguya stood up and, with a huff, swung her club, which she had finally gotten used to, through the air. Maybe she didn’t look as cool as Sakura when she did it, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t a total embarrassment.

“You wish. Who said anything about giving up? I was just thinking of how I’m going to take you down.”

Rindou laughed through his nose.

They traded another round of blows—or rather, Rindou gave, and she received.

“Still, I never expected you to say you wanted to train. What brought this on?”

“Oof, you said it yourself, Second Lieutenant Yumeura. I need to learn how to protect myself. When you suggested training before, you wanted to show me how naive I was being, didn’t you?”

“Well…I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t true.” Rindou tempered the look of provocation in his eyes. “But—that wasn’t the only reason.”

“—!!”

A heavy strike from Rindou left Kaguya’s hand numb, causing her to suddenly drop her club. In a panic, she took a defensive stance. Of course, Kaguya’s defensive stance was hardly better than an amateur’s—and didn’t offer much more protection than instinctively huddling into a ball.

Rindou’s attack, however, never came.

Kaguya tentatively opened her eyes, seeing an expression on Rindou’s face that she had not expected.

“Second Lieutenant Yumeura…?”

“You don’t get it…” There was sadness in his eyes, like he was looking back on something he would never have again. This was the real follow-up blow, she realized. This was what he wanted to say. “…I tried to do it once, too.”

It—he said it so simply that it took Kaguya a beat to understand what he meant. She gulped.

She would have never expected it from him—but that was hubris in its own way. Assuming someone as bold and forceful as Rindou would never think about committing suicide.

“Wh-when did you…?”

“Almost exactly six years ago. After the big collapse. I don’t even remember why anymore, but by all rights I should have died then.”

He stared at Kaguya, but he also seemed to be seeing something else. Nostalgic for something from the past—his own death.

“As you can see, though, I failed to off myself. The noose I used and the closet rack it was attached to, it all burned away… After something like that, it’s not so easy choosing death anymore.”

Kaguya could understand, in a generic sense, how he might feel. Very few people had survived the catastrophe six years ago. It probably seemed silly for Rindou to take his own life after miraculously surviving in such a strange way.

But the complex emotional scars—they must have still been inside him.

“This might be harsh, Kaguya, but you’re not capable of understanding how people like that feel.”

He was right. Kaguya had never once considered suicide. It didn’t even seem like an option to her. How was someone like her supposed to understand something like that?

But being unable to understand was no excuse for being unwilling to try. That was something Kaguya refused to do.

“But I don’t necessarily need to understand, Rindou.”

It was the first time she had ever addressed him by his given name.

“None of us can really understand how other people feel in the first place. You can’t know what’s going on inside my heart, either. Koyuki, Sakura, Mari, the Director, Major Mirai, Captain Azuma. None of us are the same inside.”

“So what are you saying? That you’re just going to give up? You’re gonna tell me to do whatever I want since you can’t understand it anyway? I mean, I don’t necessarily think that’s wrong. It’s important to respect how others feel. If someone says they don’t need reality, accepting that decision seems like a fair reaction to me.”

“No… You can’t mean that.”

Kaguya took a step backward.

She found herself remembering Sakura, suddenly. Sakura had wielded her weapon like it was second nature, without all the plodding steps that Kaguya required. Brilliant and exquisite. But in the end, even Sakura had turned into a monster.

“Kaguya, take care of everyone for me.”

That was Sakura’s last wish, and Kaguya had to live up to it. No matter what it took.

“It doesn’t matter if I understand or not, I’m just going to keep trying to reach them. No matter how many times it takes,” said Kaguya, assuming a fighting stance again for the umpteenth time. This time she was going to get him; she was determined. “I don’t care how many times it takes, I will never give up. That’s…that’s what hope means!”

“Hope, huh? That’s a pretty tall order for one person.”

Rindou switched up his position as well. Until now his stance had been casual, but now he dropped his hips slightly. Even that small move was intimidating.

“If that’s how you want it, though, I’m happy to oblige…just don’t tell Azuma. He’s always so overprotective of you, treating you like a princess.”

“A princess? I’m pretty sure he treats me like I’m a bale of hay.”

“A bale of hay?”

“Well, that’s what it feels like…every time Captain Azuma tosses me over his shoulder,” said Kaguya, pouting slightly at the thought.

Rindou burst out laughing.

Three days had passed.

Three days, and Azuma’s mind remained in turmoil.

How am I healing so fast?

Although Azuma insisted it was nothing, it was clearly more than a minor wound. But the bleeding had already stopped, and his body had moved on to the natural healing stage despite the fact that it had only been three days.

It was far beyond what any human being was capable of. He was supposed to be transported to an Extermination Bureau hospital that day.

“What…is wrong with me?”

Once upon a time, Azuma would have never hemmed and hawed like this over something so silly. How was he supposed to fight if he was constantly shaking in his boots at the thought of turning into a hero?

This had never been a problem before. But now that it had happened once—

Someone knocked at the door, forcing Azuma back to the present moment. He responded, and the door opened and she came in. It was Kaguya.

“Sorry I haven’t been around these past three days. I’ve had lots to do on my own, too.”

“Lots to do?”

“Lately, Rindou has been teaching me how to move. He’s pretty scary when he gets serious, isn’t he? He kind of surprised me…”

“Rindou doesn’t know how to go easy on people, or how to show restraint.”

Azuma already knew Rindou had been putting Kaguya though the works, but he wasn’t sure how that arrangement had come to be.

“Why start training all of a sudden? You certainly didn’t seem proactive about it before.”

“I don’t want to turn into some little princess who’s all talk,” she said, speaking forcefully. Azuma blinked. “With you and everyone else in Charon, or with the heroes, it’s easy enough to say I won’t give up. Easy to tell people I’m going to save everyone. But I need to show that I mean it with my actions. Talk is cheap, but if my actions don’t follow suit, then what does it all mean?”

Sometimes, the easier something was to say, the harder it was to do. Honestly, thought Azuma. Isn’t she taking things a little too far? He knew very well that she tended to go overboard.

Knowing this, Azuma found the question leaving his mouth before he even realized he was going to ask.

“When you say ‘actions,’ what do you plan to do?”

Kaguya’s eyes went wide.

“Heroes were originally human,” said Azuma. “So of course there’s no way to understand each other completely. I think you need to accept that you won’t be able to change everyone’s minds simply by speaking to them. I know it went well in my case, and for a lot of other people as well…”

Including Kaguya herself.

“…but it’s probably more likely for things not to work out. That inner world is so compelling.”

“That’s true,” said Kaguya, staring off into the distance. She seemed to be remembering something. “People need to really want to return to resist that force. I won’t say I understand what is going on inside the hearts of those who don’t want to come back. But just because I don’t understand them doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. From now on, I don’t care. No matter how much it takes from me, I’m not going to give up.”

“…!”

Azuma wasn’t sure what to say. Kaguya made eye contact.

“During that fight three days ago…,” she began, “I realized that I need to dive deeper if I’m going to turn heroes back into humans. Words can only go so far—I need to understand their psyches, and to not forget.”

Azuma listened calmly.

“I haven’t forgotten a single person I’ve intervened with up until now. Not what I saw, what I felt, what they said in the end, or what they hoped for, in that place only I could see.”

How many heroes had she connected to thus far? It would be easy to look at the records and check, but there had to be a significant number of heroes by now.

“Isn’t that painful…?” Azuma asked her.

“It’s difficult.” But she didn’t say painful. “However, I’m the only one who can be there for them, as people, at the very end—”

This was something not even Azuma—or anyone else for that matter—could understand.

He remembered when his sister had become a hero. She must have been in her own dream—her own idealized world. Azuma hadn’t been able to be there for her, but that world had been her last wish.

“Maybe you’re overthinking things,” ventured Azuma. “After all, they’re already dead. Remembering the dead sounds fine, but I don’t see why you have to be responsible for that all on your own.”

“Maybe,” said Kaguya, surprisingly receptive to what he said. Then she continued, in a more dogged voice. “But…Captain Azuma, I want to remember. If I don’t, it’s like they really died as monsters, isn’t it? They had their own thoughts, their own feelings, and I’m the only one capable of knowing them.”

“I see…”

In that case—the ones who had been saved so far, maybe they found joy. They didn’t die like his sister had, without anyone there to know what they thought at the end. In that same light, however, that meant that the suffering of all those human deaths, so many young men and women, was falling squarely upon Kaguya’s shoulders, alone.

Something like that had to be painful.

“Lieutenant…how do you bear it?” Even if nothing could be done, he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “You’re not just mentally aware of what happens, you actually come into contact with their psyches—their hearts. You have to face death with them. That doesn’t seem like something any normal human could endure.”

“Well, maybe… But I’m not human, am I?”

Azuma was shocked. She said it so easily. Kaguya pressed her hand to her throat, where the hero’s egg rested, a remnant of when she herself had once begun to change into a hero.

“There is a hero’s egg in my throat. I am half hero, a waypoint between the two, you might say.”

“A waypoint.”

“Yes. Both hero and human…”

Half of her was no longer human. It was one of those monsters now. And Azuma was no different.

It had been so hideous, the boy’s crazed smiling face, as he stared at something not found in this world. That terrifying sight had taken root in Azuma’s core, filling him with despair and gnawing away at his need to be human. Did Kaguya feel that fear, too?

“…In other words, it is a very interesting condition.”

“Interesting…?”

That took Azuma by surprise. Glancing at her eyes, Azuma realized that she was not simply putting on a brave face. She meant it. For someone like Kaguya, who had originally come from Technical, even such changes to her own body were an object of fascination.

“I can’t believe you can talk that way about yourself—about your own condition.”

“You can take the girl out of Technical, but I guess you can’t take the Technical out of the girl. It’s like the Director says: Use what you’ve got.”

Azuma couldn’t understand the way she felt. Until recently, his only thought when it came to heroes was how to defeat them.

There was also something dazzling about it. This was something he could only view with fear, that needed to be recoiled from. But she had accepted it, and was trying to use it to help others.

“Captain Azuma,” said Kaguya, suddenly looking away. “What…in the world did you see?”

Azuma shrunk slightly, as she seemed to stare through him.

“It’s not like you to lose focus like that during battle. An increased heart rate isn’t the only thing going on, is it?”

“Well… I guess you’ve figured it out.”

She must have been watching him closely, although he wasn’t sure when. But if anyone understood what he was going through, maybe it was her.

“During the fight three days ago…,” he said, using the same words Kaguya had used.

Whatever had been holding him back, that feeling of not wanting to say it out loud seemed to have vanished at some point. There was no point in trying to put on a front for Kaguya.

“…I saw the hero’s face. The thing inside the blackness.”

Kaguya’s eyes went wide. Azuma calmly explained, without meeting her gaze. Once he started, the words flooded out as if a dam had broken.

“Not just that. I saw the expression behind the hero as well… He was grinning from ear to ear. It was so extreme that it frightened me.”

That face, so happy, yet equally swollen with madness as it was with joy, floated into the back of Azuma’s mind. A face that was only possible for someone who had abandoned everything, reality, their soul, and had chosen to live in an idealized fantasy instead. A smile that made Azuma feel sick. And—he had once been the same. So had his sister.

“It made me realize that I was like that once before, too, and now I can’t come to grips with it—that I became a hero. And that I could become one again.”

“Are you…afraid…?”

“I know it’s pathetic.” Yuuri Azuma, the captain of Charon, was afraid. “Everyone else has come to terms with that possibility and continues to fight. Even you, Lieutenant. It’s pathetic to feel this way, after all this time.”

That must have been the real reason he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it.

“Captain Azuma, do you think it’s pathetic to feel afraid?”

“Well…yes, of course I do.”

He was the captain of the strongest squad in the Bureau. How could he admit to being scared?

Kaguya, however, seemed to disagree. “That’s strange. That’s very strange, Captain Azuma. After all, fear is a necessary emotion for survival. Pride aside, if you think you need to apologize for feeling afraid, you’ve got things all wrong,” she said out of the blue.

Azuma made eye contact. It didn’t seem like she was just saying it to make him feel better. She was calmly stating the truth.

“Listen, Captain Azuma. In all places and at all times, every living creature has natural enemies. Sometimes these are external predators, sometimes they’re the elements, such as heat and cold, but there is always something.”

Azuma cocked his head. What was she talking about?

“The fruits of nature—in particular, things such as water, fire, and darkness—can easily take lives. The most basic and essential capacity an organism possesses to ensure that it can navigate safety through a world where life-threatening hazards exist around every corner…”

Kaguya took a deep breath.

“…is fear.”

“…?”

Azuma didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

“I mean, what I’m trying to say,” Kaguya went on, obviously self-conscious that she hadn’t been understood, “is not that there is absolutely no need to feel embarrassed…but just that it’s a natural thing. Fear.”

Kaguya sat down in the chair next to the bed.

“Of course the prospect of turning into something not human is scary. It would be weirder if you weren’t scared. Especially in your case, Captain Azuma, since you once started to turn into a hero, and know what it really entails. The reason the others don’t feel as strongly is probably just because they don’t know what you know.”

What it meant to become a hero. And that starting to turn into one, once, meant that you were no longer human.

“If anything, I’m relieved. Knowing there is something you’re scared of shows that you’re human after all.”

“It does…? But according to your theory, I’m not human anymore.”

“Who you are…,” she said, tapping his chest lightly. She was pointing at his heart. His soul. “…is human. Someone who despises his enemies but also shows pity. Who feels fear at the sight of madness, and falters at something he does not want to become—what could be more human?”

Azuma wasn’t sure how to respond. He had never thought about what it meant to be human before.

“The definition of a human is relative. For instance, if Rindou, Koyuki, and everyone else were to become half hero tomorrow, once we all had that in common, the definition would change overnight.”

In fact, those who weren’t half hero would be seen as oddities instead—but something like that was unthinkable, of course, and could never be allowed to pass.

“So then, does it really matter? Nothing about you has actually changed, Captain. You’re a little infuriating at times, but we know you’re there when we need you. Just like always. Right?”

6-2

“A white demon—that’s what he said, wasn’t it?”

The transport truck was on its way to location, Yoyogi Park. The truck had been fitted with a range of customizations and was capable of greater speed than normal cars.

“He said something about bones, right? Maybe it’s a bone hero. He was probably saying to attack the bones.”

“I guess, yeah.”

The truck rattled along. They were almost at their destination.

Yoyogi Park. Even on weekdays, this park was usually packed, but not a single soul was to be seen.

There was no evidence that people had run, either. It was eerie, seeing the park so deserted in the middle of summer.

“We don’t have Azuma with us today, so we won’t know where the egg is located,” said Rindou, sounding uneasy at first but quickly getting his voice under control. “Remember, though…that doesn’t change our M.O. Find the egg as quickly as possible and destroy it—or have Kaguya enter the creature. That’s all.”

Everyone agreed. Kaguya gave her assent as well before glancing out the window to assess the situation outside.

The trees quickly hurtled past, dotted by an occasional park bench or thick carpet of flowers. The flowers were in vivid and colorful bloom, whizzing by at such speed that it made Kaguya feel sick.

One tree in particular caught Kaguya’s notice.

“Huh…?”

Something had stepped out from its shadow. A sprinting skeleton.

It looked like a model found in a science classroom, and it was staring their way, running straight toward them. Its empty eye sockets and exposed cheekbones made it look like it was cackling.

There was a tiny scream. Everyone in the vehicle immediately tensed.

“How did it get here so fast…?!”

The skeleton was now running alongside the van. Kaguya had no idea how it could move without muscles and tendons. Just the sight of it was disturbing enough.

“Veer to the side!!”

At Rindou’s order, the vehicle began listing sideways.

Next to the vehicle—just inches away, really—were rows of trees and benches. There were areas where the benches were damaged and had yet to be repaired, but it was more than enough solid coverage to sandwich the creature between the vehicle and the tress.

For some reason, however, the skeleton continued to run alongside the truck, showing no signs of fear even as it was crushed by the full force of a speeding transport truck large enough to carry several dozen soldiers.

They drove a little farther.

There was a high-pitched screech when the driver hit the brakes. Everyone inside lurched forward, weapons and all. A moment later, Kaguya realized why the driver had braked.

There was a great mass of bones visible through the front windshield. Teetering skeletons, just like the one from before. Several dozen of them.

“Tsk, this is like a zombie movie…”

Rindou was right to be annoyed. From the looks of it, there was no sign of sentience inside their hollow eye sockets. They were just attacking on instinct.

Bwam! Bwam! The same loud noise, over and over.

The skeletons were attacking the truck in a wave. Everyone inside ducked for cover. Kaguya heard the sound of glass beginning to crack overhead as Koyuki shoved her head down. Crick. C-crick.

“You’re—you’re kidding me!”

These skeletons were bizarrely durable. The skeletons, or the cracked windows. It didn’t take a genius to realize which would give out first.

With a loud crash, one of the windows shattered into pieces. Kaguya felt the outside air hit her. In the next instant, several hands, nothing but bone, began to claw at Kaguya and the others. The situation looked desperate. The skeletons attacked the vehicle and its Charon occupants like a scene out of a zombie movie.

Unlike a zombie movie, however, Charon had weapons and knew how to use them.

“Everyone! Get down!!”

Koyuki was the first to act. She took a handgun-shaped Chronos, poked the muzzle out the window, and fired off several shots. It wasn’t enough to damage the skeletons, but it was enough to create a diversion.

“Go!!”

The driver didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed the gas pedal. The wheels began to turn with a scraping sound, as if something had gotten tangled on them, and a moment later the vehicle suddenly shot forward. They managed to shake off the pursuing skeletons, which the wind pressure promptly knocked away. They vehicle lurched ahead, stopping for nothing.

Several skeletons managed to hang on. There were only a few left, but they were beating against the speeding truck from all sides, trying to claw their way in.

“This is bad, Rindou. If we don’t do something—”

“I know, Koyuki. How many are there?”

“About four, I think.”

“Okay. We can handle that—everyone, get ready. You know what time it is!”

“Wait!!” shouted Kaguya, but of course no one paid her any mind. At Rindou’s order, the vehicle’s escape mechanism activated. The roof of the truck detached from the base like a loose part slipping free—and then, just before the skeletons could crawl inside…

…Kaguya and the others scattered in all directions, running like the wind.

“This is bad, isn’t it…?”

“It’s definitely not good, that’s for sure.”

Haru and Kaguya wound up together.

They had just happened to run in the same direction. They hid in the shadow of a tree together, glancing around cautiously.

“It would be my luck to get stuck with someone with almost zero combat ability like you. I’d say don’t drag me down, but…well, I’m hardly in any position to complain, am I…?”

While running, Haru had twisted her left ankle. It had swollen up and seemed to be sprained, making it difficult to move. She had to lean on Kaguya’s shoulder for support.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble…”

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly, how is your injury?”

“It hurts, but it should be fine. There wasn’t much blood. It won’t be fatal.”