"Reporting, Squadron Leader No. 11. Communication equipment has been fully repaired. Awaiting orders."
An engineer stood stiffly behind No. 11, saluting as he delivered his report.
"Finally fixed?"
After a long ten-minute wait, No. 11 had been burning with anxiety. The moment she heard the good news, she finally let out a breath of relief.
In the next second, she issued a crisp order: "Restore communications."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The engineer accepted the command and jogged out of the tent, sweeping away the ten minutes of oppressive gloom that had hung over the command post.
With the heaviness finally lifted, the reporter, still bubbling with excitement, glanced from several meters away at No. 11's visibly relaxed back before turning around, her emotions overflowing.
Facing away from No. 11, she practically vibrated with excitement.
As a diehard fan of Miyabi—especially after the overwhelming advantage before the communication blackout—the reporter had already popped champagne and waved her arms energetically as she spoke to the audience still watching the livestream:
[Dear citizens, thank you so much for staying with us!]
[After ten long minutes of patience, communications are finally coming back!]
[As the saying goes, happiness is the buildup of anticipation during silent moments, revealed all at once in the end.]
[Before comms went down, our forces were unstoppable, capturing every key node in the Hollow! Once the connection is restored, what new surprises will our troops bring us? Let's look forward to it together!]
With that, the camera shifted to No. 11. All of New Eridu was watching her back.
Though she hadn't done anything yet, No. 11 suddenly felt a chill along her spine. Everyone's expectations were pinned on her, and the pressure mounted sharply.
Beep… beep…
A distinctive alert tone dragged her back to reality.
No. 11 hurriedly put on her headset, switched to the special channel, and called out anxiously:
[Section 6, communications restored. Please respond.]
[Repeating—communications restored. Please respond!]
Then—half a minute of silence.
No reply.
No. 11's heart dropped. It felt like a massive weight slammed against her chest, making even breathing difficult.
It's fine. They're fine. They're Section 6. They have to be fine!
She forced the spiraling thoughts down, unaware that sweat the size of beans was already dripping from her forehead onto the table.
Behind her, the reporter turned pale, wondering if she should cut the broadcast.
[Huff… huff…]
At last, ragged breathing came through the headset—mixed with faint explosions and screams.
But No. 11 didn't care. With the expectations of the entire city resting on her, her burden was no lighter than anyone else's.
The moment she finally heard movement, she brightened at once, asking urgently:
[Section 6, report your status.]
Seeing No. 11's expression ease, the reporter assumed everything was under control. Even if things were rough, surely it was all moving toward a stable, positive outcome. She quickly turned back to reassure the audience:
[Dear citizens, please trust in our hope. We will absolutely—]
THUD!
A violent crash cut her off.
She froze, turning around.
No. 11 had slammed her fist onto the table.
The expensive, solid wood desk now had a gaping hole punched straight through it.
Then No. 11 collapsed back into her chair. The chair slid backward under the force, taking all of New Eridu's hopes and expectations with it.
Seeing this, the reporter felt like a ship tossed in stormy seas. She hesitantly stepped forward:
"Captain 11, what—"
Thud!
But No. 11 ignored her, standing again with a hunched posture, her voice ragged from fury—as if screaming out the last of her strength:
[All units, retreat!]
BANG!
The retreat order struck like a bolt of thunder. Everyone in the command tent stared in disbelief. Even the livestream chat fell eerily silent.
...
"Weren't we winning? Why retreat? Captain, what's going on?"
A soldier stationed in a school building turned to his squad leader, confused after receiving the mass recall.
"How the hell would I know? Those high-ups never make sense."
The squad leader spat on the floor, then lifted his rifle and shouted to his men, "Pack it up! Pack it up! Let's head ba—"
BOOM!!!
A fiery explosion cut him off mid-sentence.
The rest of the soldiers were blasted away by the shockwave.
On the ground, men screamed in pain, their bodies consumed by burning agony.
"My arm!"
A soldier shrieked, face twisted.
But as a trained soldier, instinct took over. Through sheer force of will, he endured the pain, forced himself upright, clutching his left arm—twisted hideously beyond recognition. Blankly staring at the flames around him, he muttered, "Captain?"
No response…
He froze. Terror crept into his chest. He staggered forward a few steps.
"Is anyone… still alive?"
"Leroy! Marcus! Are you there?!"
But no one answered.
"AAAAHHH!!"
The surviving soldier suddenly screamed, desperately digging through the burning rubble with his remaining arm.
A body—any body—was better than not knowing…
Braced for the worst, he plunged toward the flames.
But as soon as he stepped forward, he stopped dead.
In the flickering firelight of the ruined building, he glimpsed a familiar silhouette.
Wrapped in black smoke, the figure walked slowly toward him, fingers twitching.
[Oh? Still someone alive. Lucky me.]
[How about… letting me eat you?]
The figure spoke casually. Its twitching fingers suddenly halted—then wings burst from its back.
With a powerful flap, it blitzed toward him.
No—Black!
The soldier's heart leapt into his throat. He spun and bolted.
"Help! Help me!"
He screamed at the top of his lungs, running harder than he ever had in his life.
[You think you can escape?]
A demonic voice whispered right beside his ear.
Ice flooded his veins.
He turned—and saw Black's handsome face smiling at him.
[Hello… goodbye.]
Black raised his left hand, striking toward the soldier's back.
The soldier squeezed his eyes shut as the rushing wind drew near—
CLANG!
A metallic clash rang out as Miyabi kicked the soldier away to safety.
Sword in hand, she planted her feet before Black, voice steady and cold: "Run!"
"Thank you, Section Chief Miyabi! Thank you!"
Saved from death, the soldier fled at once.
[Tsk. Why're you running so fast?]
Black tilted his head at Miyabi. [Someone as sharp as you must've noticed by now.]
[In raw power, I'm not your equal. But I can push my speed to the absolute limit without hesitation. Can you?]
He extended a hand, laughter heightening into madness.
[Will you really burn through your stamina just to save these ants?]
[Once your strength drops far enough… you won't be my opponent at all.]
Miyabi tightened her grip. Her breathing grew faintly uneven. Sweat trailed down her back.
Of course she knew.
Ever since the fight resumed, her stamina had been draining at a terrifying pace. No one understood her state better than she did.
But what could she do? Let Black massacre freely?
Even knowing the trap, Miyabi had no choice but to shoulder it.
[Since you've shown a weakness, don't blame me for stomping on it.]
Black shrugged, then shot into the sky.
Miyabi's pupils shrank. She gritted her teeth and gave chase.
...
One hour later.
Black folded his wings and landed, tilting his head as he ignored the corpses behind him, instead grinning eerily at Miyabi.
Her hair was a mess. Her chest rose and fell with every breath. Her soaked clothes clung to her body as though she'd been dragged from a river, and the hand holding her blade trembled uncontrollably.
[See?] Black cackled. [I told you—your stamina wouldn't hold.]
[Still, not bad. You kept me from killing at least three hundred more.]
He approached slowly, supporting his body with his wings once he reached her.
He found he liked this posture—towering above everything.
Ceremonial. Godlike. Passing judgment on insects.
[Die.]
Fire ignited in his palm as he struck downward.
Zzzzap!
A bolt of lightning speared toward his back.
Black's instincts kicked in—he twisted sharply and shot into the air.
The strike didn't chase him.
It drove straight past and slammed into Miyabi—
—blasting her clear of the danger zone.
As she was hurled toward the edge of the Hollow, Black clicked his tongue.
[Tsk. Missed one.]
He hadn't needed to dodge.
By reacting on instinct, he had accidentally let his prey get pushed away to safety.
But instead of pursuing, he simply turned and walked deeper into the Doppelgänger Hollow.
[Time to gather the Hollow's power. Back to business.]
...
Outside the Hollow.
"They're out! Deputy Section Chief Yanagi and Section Chief Miyabi are out!"
Crowds surrounding the Hollow watched as Yanagi emerged, carrying Miyabi on his back.
"Quick! A doctor!"
No. 11 rushed over to help, assisting Yanagi in carrying Miyabi into the temporary medical tent.
Inside lay Miyabi and Harumasa.
In another tent farther back, countless soldiers lay scattered in rows.
Outside the tent, after dispersing the crowd, No. 11 sat across from Yanagi and Soukaku.
"This time, we suffered a devastating loss. A thousand soldiers went in. Less than half made it out. Those still combat-capable… fewer than two hundred."
These were the first words No. 11 spoke after sitting down.
Soon, Yanagi and Soukaku heard another grim update:
"And ten minutes ago, the city's upper management finished their emergency meeting."
"They unanimously decided to bring Phaga here—to uncover Black's secrets and counter the effects of this defeat as fast as possible."