---
Bruce's fingers dug into the blanket.
"How many people died?" he asked, voice flat.
Sinclair looked away. "I… I don't know."
Bruce's gaze hardened. "What about Lex?"
Her voice trembled. "I don't know. They couldn't find him."
Bruce's jaw tightened. "Then why are you here?"
Sinclair forced a small, broken smile. "To tell you—thank you." She fled, tears blurring her eyes, and nearly collided with Minato in the corridor.
Minato raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with her?"
Bruce inhaled. "I got my memories back."
For a heartbeat, Minato's face softened. "That's… good news."
Bruce added, quieter, "And I also got a constellation."
Minato's brow lifted. "Who is it?"
Bruce sat up. "Before I say anything—Minato, tell me. What happened back there? Don't hold back. Who died because of your plan?"
Minato stubbed his cigarette, exhaled slow. "Fine. I hired Lex. Fed him Hanma family intel to make him chase the Judgment Chains. I sold him what he found. It was all to bring Sinclair here… and to flush out traitors." His voice didn't waver. "A quarter of the mountain died. Out of five thousand residents, about 1,250 didn't return."
He recited the toll like a ledger:
Kozuki: ~250 lost.
Takahashi: ~220 lost.
Ishiguro: ~210 lost.
Okamoto: ~200 lost.
Hoshikawa: ~150 lost.
Yamashiro: ~120 lost.
Guild city & others: ~100 lost.
"We held a mass burial," Minato added flatly. "Monuments, prayers. The mountain mourned."
Bruce's grip whitened. "So… how do you feel, knowing families died because of you? Was it worth it?"
Minato rose, smoothing his coat. His eyes showed nothing. "I don't care how many die. If it's to save Sinclair, I'd do it a thousand times over."
He paused, smoke curling. "Only Narberal, Belita, and I knew the true edges of the plan. Kozuki and Hoshikawa weren't meant to— but I had Narberal slip pieces to them while I explained the rest to others."
Bruce's stare sharpened. "So you suspected traitors."
Minato flicked ash. "I did. Kozuki's like oil on water—slides out of any grip. Sinclair was with Lex; I couldn't reach her. So I set the bait."
Bruce's teeth ground. "The Judgment Chains."
Minato nodded. "I leaked its location, hired Lex. Ajax and Sato struck the mansion soon after. Ajax poisoned me — I played dead to bait his play. Then Night of Death began. Stigma stopped working. We were swinging steel at endless reapers, buying seconds."
He looked at Bruce with something like pity. "After you were cut down, your body convulsed. Even while it tore, you protected Sinclair. No one knows exactly what happened after — except her."
Bruce lunged, but Minato brushed past him—unaware of the shadow in the doorway.
Sinclair had been listening. Tears streaked her face. She slid away, press-against-the-wood, the confession burning her chest. Minato had lied; she had heard everything.
Bruce collapsed back, blanket tangled in his fists — two truths tearing him: one he carried alone, and one Sinclair would never let go.
---
Rooftop
Minato walked out onto the hospital roof. Narberal was already there, her eyes fixed on the black line of mountains.
"So what now?" she asked. "Hanma's bled enough."
Bruce pushed the door open. Bandages hugged his arms, but his step was steady. "We rebuild. From scratch." Determination cut the air.
Minato leaned on the rail, cigarette a glowing point in the dark. "It isn't that easy."
Bruce met his look. "I know. I don't fight losing battles."
Minato smirked. "Then what do you call this?"
"A setback," Bruce said simply.
Minato tapped his shoulder. "Heal first. Then we'll talk strategy."
---
The next morning — goodbyes
They gathered in the hospital courtyard. It was quiet, thin with the ache of what they'd been through.
Haruto adjusted his bag. "I'm enrolling at Clover Academy," he said. "Someone has to research how to stop things like that."
Aika smiled faintly. "I… I want to go on a journey. Get stronger. My father left at my age — maybe it's time I do the same."
Tsubaki squared her shoulders. "I'm going to train. Become a Knight."
Bruce looked at each of them. The moment to part came sudden and awful — they had bled together and now each would go a different way. That split, the quiet hugs and nods, felt like a small funeral: a tight, wrenching thing that left them hollow and still.
"We leave tomorrow," Minato told Bruce quietly. "I've called a carriage."
Bruce hesitated. "Isn't the mountain still rubble?"
Minato's cigarette smoke curled. "It has an auto-repair mechanism. It'll stitch itself back in months. Besides, we're not returning to the mountain. We're going to see an old uncle of yours."
They climbed into the carriage at dusk. Sinclair slept across from Bruce, exhausted. For once, the world felt absurdly calm.
---
On the road
After the first day's miles, Minato finally asked, "You said you got a constellation. Tell me."
Bruce rubbed his temple. "I couldn't see his face. He told me his title — Monarch of the Malevolent Darkness. He said it's a title, not a name."
Minato whistled low. "A Monarch. Odds of that are staggeringly small."
Bruce's jaw tightened. "He's stingy. He revived people, but he took something from me — one emotion. He said each time he helps, he'll take another emotion."
Minato considered that for a beat. "Probably because you don't know his true name. If you knew it, you wouldn't be completely outclassed when dealing with him."
Bruce glanced at the pale interface that had shown "hello" in different languages since he woke. "That blue screen — the Anomaly System — is it tied to him?"
Minato nodded and began to explain as the carriage jostled over the road:
The Anomaly System is the link between an incarnation (the anomaly) and its constellation. It's a two-way interface: constellations can issue tasks and rewards; the host can see stats and system prompts.
For the first few days after unlocking it, all new users see a simple greeting screen — "hello" in many tongues — while the system initializes.
The constellation provides daily tasks to help the host grow, and rewards when those tasks are completed. It's the constellation's way to guide, train, or manipulate the host.
Knowing a constellation's true name levels the playing field. Without it, the host is negotiating blind.
Minato asked, "Did the Monarch give you any task?"
"He told me to find the emotion he took," Bruce said.
Minato tapped his chin. "That's the key. Name it and you can start to chip away at the bargain. Give it time."
Bruce asked, almost casually, "Do you have a constellation?"
Minato shrugged. "Rare as they are — yes." He folded his hands, looked toward where Sinclair slept. "I'll tell you another time."
Bruce watched Sinclair sleep, then looked out at the road. "I still don't understand why you risked everything for her."
Minato's voice went soft, uncharacteristic. "I'm doing this for you, too. Don't tell me you're jealous."
Bruce gave a short, bitter laugh. "No. It's… complicated."
Minato's hand came down on Bruce's shoulder. "You'll forgive her. You're the kind of person who does."
The rest of the trip passed in quiet. Old wounds ached; new burdens settled in their chests.
Three days later, the carriage crested a hill. Below stretched a stubborn little village, tucked against the wilderness. Smoke curled from chimneys, but the place felt too quiet, as if holding its breath.
They passed through, following a narrow path that wound to the village's rear. Beyond it loomed a towering stone gate, half-swallowed by earth and shadow. The air around it pulsed faintly — unmistakably dungeon-born.
Bruce felt his chest tighten. "A gate…"
Minato stepped forward, cigarette glowing in the dusk. He exhaled slow, almost like a sigh.
"We're here," he said.
The gate thrummed, alive with secrets.
Bruce's uncle waited on the other side.