The scream came late.
"NOBITAAAAA—!!"
Doraemon was already moving.
His hands shook as he tore through his pouch, gadgets spilling out mid-air as the helicopter lurched violently. Wind ripped at his face, tears vanishing before they could fall.
"Parachute Gun—parachute gun—where is it—?!"
He found it.
Blue casing. Small. Familiar.
Reliable.
Doraemon leaned out of the helicopter door, body straining against the harness as the night rushed past beneath him.
Below—
Too much.
Too much debris.
Too much falling.
The ruined remains of the Mega Fly were still dropping—burning flesh, shattered wings, chunks of chitin spinning wildly, blocking his line of sight again and again.
"Nobita—hold still—please—!" Doraemon cried, aiming desperately.
He fired.
The dart vanished—
Deflected.
A massive piece of the monster's body slammed past, ripping the parachute line apart before it could even deploy.
"No—no—no—!"
Doraemon fired again.
And again.
Each shot missed.
Not because he was bad.
Because the world was cruel.
Leon grabbed Doraemon's shoulder. "We can't get a clean shot!"
Chris's voice cracked through the comm. "Doraemon… I'm sorry."
Doraemon didn't answer.
He just stared.
---
The wind howled.
Nobita was still falling.
Simmons laughed.
It wasn't loud anymore.
It was thin.
Broken.
"…You see?" Simmons rasped, blood trailing upward in the wind. "Even after everything… you still fall."
Nobita didn't respond.
His grip tightened.
"Maybe you saved the world," Simmons continued, voice dripping with venom. "But what about you? Heroes always end the same way."
Nobita's eyes burned.
"…Stop talking."
Simmons smirked. "You saved everyone… except yourself."
That did it.
Nobita kicked.
Hard.
The force sent Simmons spinning sideways—
Straight toward the building.
The giant steel needle waited.
Unmoving.
Unforgiving.
Simmons' eyes widened for the first time.
"No—!"
The sound wasn't loud.
Just—
A dull, final THUNK.
The needle pierced straight through Simmons' body, pinning him there like an insect in a display case.
His laughter died instantly.
His head slumped.
The wind swallowed his last breath.
Nobita kept falling.
---
Time slowed.
The city blurred.
The noise faded.
And memories came.
---
A blue hand pulling him up.
"Come on, Nobita! You'll miss school!"
A warm voice.
"Don't worry… everything will be okay."
A girl smiling at him from across a classroom.
A bat and a glove.
Laughter under the open sky.
Fights.
Crying.
Forgiveness.
Running home together.
Shizuka's hand in his.
Gian's arm slung around his shoulder.
Suneo bragging loudly.
Dekisugi smiling quietly.
And Doraemon.
Always Doraemon.
"Nobita… I'm right here."
---
The needle grew closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Cold steel reflecting the city lights.
Nobita exhaled.
Not in fear.
In peace.
"…Guess this is it."
Above him—
Doraemon screamed his name again.
Below him—
The needle waited.
And between them—
A single, silent heartbeat.
---
END OF CHAPTER