"Even if we return alive, it's the world that stays broken."
The train groaned as it pulled into the lower platform of Tokyo Area's eastern junction. Dust swirled beneath its aging wheels, and the air smelled like ozone and industrial coolant. Though armored and shielded, the transport car looked battered from the road—a relic that had survived another trip beyond the Monoliths.
Rentarō Satomi stepped out of the rear cabin, his long coat stained with ash and dried Gastrea ichor. His left arm—still wrapped in the black carbon-steel prosthetic—twitched as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Enju trailed behind, her red ribbons fluttering from the static in the air, her expression tight.
"Do we report to Seitenshi-sama directly?" she asked.
"No," Rentarō replied, eyes scanning the terminal. "We clean up first."
A line of resistance medics was stationed at the checkpoint, some ready to disinfect returning operatives, others prepared to carry stretchers. This time, no stretchers were needed. But the stares they received—half relief, half suspicion—were hard to ignore.
Hotaru met them near the exit gate. Her left arm was in a sling, the result of the ambush during the Project Chrysalis extraction. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Rentarō's coat.
"You look like hell."
"I feel worse," he said.
She handed him a datapad. "Summary of what happened while you were gone."
Rentarō flipped through the pages. Nothing jumped out—at least not until he reached the end.
UNDF satellite breach detected near District 2's western perimeter. Short-range jamming field. Source unknown.
His brow furrowed. "Another synthetic child?"
Hotaru shrugged. "Or someone worse. The jamming field only lasted thirty seconds, but during that time, three surveillance drones lost visual telemetry. All of them were tracking Gastrea movement patterns."
"Patterns?" Enju repeated, stepping closer. "What kind of patterns?"
Hotaru's voice lowered. "That's just it. The Gastrea weren't attacking. They were… moving in formation."
By late afternoon, they had returned to Civil Security's refurbished office. The walls were still scorched from the last skirmish with Hiruko Kagetane's remnants months ago, and the elevator barely worked. But it was home.
Rentarō collapsed into his chair, legs aching. Enju dropped into the opposite seat and kicked her feet up onto the desk.
"I hate trains," she muttered.
"They hate you back."
She stuck out her tongue.
Karasuma entered the room, expression unreadable. "Seitenshi-sama wants a private audience with Satomi-dono. One hour. At the palace."
Rentarō raised an eyebrow. "She's not going to like what I have to say."
"She rarely does," Karasuma said. "But she still listens."
The Government Palace shimmered with artificial calm.
White marble pillars. Gold trim. Security drones hovering like insects under the chandeliers. Rentarō walked its halls with practiced detachment, ignoring the glances from high-ranking officials and polished bureaucrats. A familiar ache stirred in his chest—this wasn't his world.
Seitenshi was waiting in her private office.
She turned from the window as he entered, hands clasped in front of her ivory dress. The light caught her eyes just right—deep blue, touched with exhaustion.
"Rentarō," she said softly. "You're safe."
He bowed slightly. "For now."
"Please. Sit."
He did.
They didn't speak for several seconds. Outside, the skyline flickered with warning lights as another Monolith pulse was conducted across the outer wall. The illusion of peace was fragile.
"I heard about the girl in the tank," Seitenshi said finally.
Rentarō nodded. "Project Chrysalis. We couldn't contain her."
"Was she infected?"
"No. She was something else. Engineered. They gave her strength beyond anything I've seen—without the limitations of the Gastrea virus. No vulnerability to Varanium. No cursed-child empathy."
"And you let her escape."
"I had no choice. She overpowered three Initiators in under twenty seconds. If she hadn't chosen to leave…"
Seitenshi closed her eyes for a moment. "Another ghost, then."
Rentarō leaned forward. "That wasn't an isolated project. We found classified Council files in the transport. Chrysalis was only the first."
Seitenshi stood, walking to the far wall, her fingers trailing along the edge of a carved relief depicting the fall of Old Tokyo.
"The new model of war," she whispered. "Children made for killing, without souls to mourn."
Rentarō didn't answer. There was nothing to say.
She turned back, gaze softer now. "You're bleeding."
He looked down. His left arm had opened at the seams again, where the artificial ligaments met skin. A thin trickle ran across his wrist.
"I'll get it fixed."
"I'll have a medical team—"
"No." He stood. "There's more. Something out there is organizing the Gastrea. They weren't hunting at random. They were retreating. Like they were responding to a signal."
Seitenshi's expression changed. "A signal? From what?"
"I don't know. But one of our scouts recorded a transmission just before his drone failed. It wasn't human. And it wasn't infected either. It sounded like…"
He hesitated.
"A child."
Back at the Civil Security office, Enju sat staring at the ceiling.
Hotaru was across the room, reloading her knife sheath. She glanced over. "He's been gone a while."
Enju didn't answer.
"You okay?"
Silence.
Hotaru stood and walked over. "You've been quiet ever since Chrysalis."
"She looked like me," Enju said finally.
"…Yeah."
"But she wasn't. Not inside. There was nothing behind her eyes."
Hotaru sat beside her. "That's what makes you different."
Enju hugged her knees. "What if I become like that one day?"
"You won't. Because you have someone you care about. That's your anchor."
"…Rentarō?"
Hotaru smiled faintly. "Yeah."
Enju didn't speak again.
Meanwhile, far below the city, Dr. Grunewald stood over a terminal embedded with alien code. His gloved fingers moved with surgical precision.
One of the monitors displayed footage of a pale girl walking through mist—surrounded by Gastrea that did not attack.
Subject Name: Lilith.
Status: Beta Interface with Hive-Link Successful.
He turned to the side, where a cryotank hummed quietly.
Inside, a body floated.
Not the girl. Something older. Something that had once been human… and no longer was.
Grunewald's voice was nearly reverent.
"When fear becomes language, only the fluent survive."
Back on the surface, Rentarō exited the palace just after sundown.
The sky was thick with artificial light, washing the stars away. But even beneath the glow, he could feel the storm building at the edge of the horizon.
Seitenshi's voice echoed in his mind.
"I fear we've already crossed the threshold. Now we must decide what kind of monsters we'll become."
He adjusted his coat and started walking.
There was no rest between wars.
Only the next child waiting to be saved.
Or stopped.