Chapter 33: Here Lies the Truth

He had defined himself as a "second personality," claiming the cause to be “an escapist reaction due to the excessive stress experienced by Reicia Blackguard.”

Of course, that was a lie—but as far as excuses go, it was a clever one, or so Reicia thought.

After all, internally it might be flawed, but externally, everything lined up perfectly under that explanation.

In his semantic memory, there existed “a certain girl” who had vastly expanded the scope of her abilities due to overwhelming stress brought on by anger. In other words, it wasn’t implausible that, depending on how one processed stress, one’s abilities could grow far beyond their original parameters.

And to say that the stress triggered dissociative identity disorder, and that the new personality took over in order to spare the host from the pain—well, it sounded bizarre, but not entirely impossible.

Then, once the source of the stress disappeared, the alternate personality completed its purpose and vanished—pair that with the fact that her power output was returning to its original state, and you had a very well-crafted cover story. At the very least, no one was going to question it.

On top of that, adding the fact that “Reicia had been mentally unwell” allowed for minor inconsistencies to be overlooked. ...Well, Reicia doubted he had calculated things that far ahead, but that too was part of the charm.

"...Utterly revolting."

What Reicia had to do—was admit this issue was “beyond her ability to resolve.”

Naturally. Reicia had no expertise in brain science. In fact, judging by his semantic memory, matters of the soul and such fell under the domain of the “Magic Side.” With nothing more than a novelist's level of knowledge, there was absolutely nothing Reicia could do.

Which is why she had decided early on to reveal the truth about her “dissociative identity” to others.

Or rather, for Reicia, that was practically a prerequisite from the beginning.

"...So sickeningly sweet it makes me want to vomit."

Spitting the words out as she walked down the hallway, Reicia couldn’t understand why he hadn’t realized the obvious.

He had gone around mending her relationships with others, using that process to show her the beauty of the world.

It was a beautiful effort. In fact, through his interactions with developers and friends—especially those involved with the project like the GMDW staff—Reicia had heard what they had to say, listened to his feelings, and was able to take a good look at herself.

That had brought about a significant change in her state of mind.

However… there was one major flaw.

Weren’t those relationships he’d mended supposed to be things Reicia had to confront and fix herself?

If he heard that, he might agree momentarily and feel a twinge of regret for meddling. Then he’d think, “Realistically, Reicia-chan didn’t have the strength to deal with all that,” and finally, with frustration at being challenged, argue back—something along those lines. But this time, it was none other than Reicia who believed it.

That kindhearted fool hadn’t even considered that Reicia might want to tell the developers like Semi and the rest of GMDW the truth about her “second personality.” And that, in her eyes, was cowardly.

Because Reicia hadn’t done anything. The pain, the sorrow, the suffering—he had shouldered all of it. And yet, she was the one reaping the rewards? That wasn’t fair.

So—

"...Very well. Looks like everyone’s already here."

Chapter 3: I Won’t Let You Get Away With a Win
(N)ever_Give_Up.
Episode 27: Here Lies the Truth
Final_Settlement.

“Reicia-san, what did you want to talk about? Or more importantly, are you feeling okay? You still look kinda sleep-deprived to me...”

It was Shika who tilted her head curiously as she asked.

She was the one who had probably felt the biggest change in Reicia.

Before Reicia’s suicide attempt, their relationship could be best described as rivals within the same faction. Shika, with her strong-willed nature, often clashed with Reicia’s overbearing attitude, while Reicia, in turn, grew increasingly irritated by Shika’s defiance.

They were a bad match—perhaps that was the simplest way to put it.

But now, look at them. As long as the “dissociative identity” cover story wasn’t brought up, they could probably remain good friends moving forward.

...That future sparkled brightly.

“I mean, if it’s not urgent, you should really rest. The new semester starts tomorrow, after all…”

Following Shika’s lead, Sonai chimed in.

She was also someone whose perspective on Reicia had changed drastically.

Before the incident, Reicia saw Sonai as nothing more than a disgrace who strayed into pointless research out of insecurity about her flat chest. Or perhaps just a timid, indecisive girl.

But—he had gotten close to her, discovered that she actually had a surprisingly broad perspective, and even a nurturing strength that surpassed his own at times. Even the current Reicia couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort around her.

...And now, she was about to destroy all of those relationships.

She was going to tell them the truth behind the “dissociative identity” story.

Surely, when they learned the Reicia they’d looked up to wasn’t really Reicia at all, they would feel deeply betrayed. No reform had taken place—some other person had just been pretending to be her. But the pain that resulted from that realization… was pain Reicia was supposed to accept all along.

“...What I wanted to say is—”

Even though she had steeled herself, the words caught in her throat. It hurt—she was honestly afraid. Afraid she might be scorned, rejected... Was this the kind of fear he had carried all along?

"Reicia-san? You’re acting a little strange. If there’s something wrong, you can always talk to us..."

"I... am not the Reicia you all admired."

With resolve, she declared it clearly and firmly.

“...Huh?”

“……Wh-what do you mean…?”

Shika was dumbfounded by the sudden confession, while Sonai, noticing the shift in atmosphere, began to look cautious.

But once she started speaking, the rest came easily. Reicia recited the full details of the "cover story" fluently from her lips.

"The one who apologized to you all, who made amends—that wasn’t me. It was... a second personality, so to speak. You know I was hospitalized after I lost to Misaka-san, yes?"

"Uh, yes... but… wait, what?"

"...After I woke up, I rejected reality. And all that pain... I forced it onto this new personality."

The phenomenon may have been different, but in broad strokes, it wasn’t wrong, Reicia thought.

She had escaped reality and attempted suicide. Even after realizing she had failed, she continued to run away. And before she knew it, he had slipped into her place.

That’s why Reicia thought it was perfect. She surrendered everything to him. Maybe part of her had simply given up. Normally, the idea of someone else using your body would be horrific—but at the time, Reicia just didn’t care about anything anymore.

"...That second personality took on all the distortions caused by my escape. Making peace with Misaka-san, reconciling with the developers, and with you two... All of that was his achievement."

Yes, he had taken on all the burden. Reicia still didn’t understand why he did it. She had watched him up close all this time, but there was no reason for him—a complete stranger—to go that far for her.

...That, too, was something she wanted to ask him someday.

"...S-So you’re saying..."

"Yes. The me standing before you now is the Reicia Blackguard who hurt you all."

"...!!"

Shock rippled through the room.

"...So then what are you saying? That means the Reicia we’ve been talking to up until now... she’s just gone?"

"No! That’s not true!!"

Shika’s stunned voice struck deep—but Reicia was firm in rejecting that part alone.

...If you thought about it, the answer was obvious. Since awakening, Reicia had been able to read his semantic memory. That alone wouldn’t be possible if his soul had completely vanished. Just as he had once confirmed that Reicia’s soul still existed, the same logic applied in reverse.

That said, his power was weakening. Eventually, he would disappear. As a soul of the dead, that was only natural. Still, to Reicia, that wasn’t what mattered.

"The second personality hasn’t fully disappeared yet. ...I don’t want him to vanish. I’ll use whatever means necessary to bring him back—and I want to talk to him. That’s why... I need your help."

With those words, Reicia bowed her head deeply.

"I know this is selfish…! I know I have no right to ask this…! I’ll accept any punishment for what I’ve done. But please... help me save him! I can’t do it alone…!!"

As she spoke, tears fell in frustration and shame.

She truly wondered how she had the nerve to say such things. She hadn’t atoned for anything—and yet here she was, asking for help. It was absurd.

She had nothing left to keep these people tied to her. The version of her they’d grown close to was already fading, and even her former position held no weight now. So the only thing she could do now... was bow her head, pathetically, again and again. That was all she had left.

"...Reicia-san, please lift your head. Look us in the eyes."

Hearing Shika’s voice, Reicia obediently did as she was told and timidly lifted her face.

And in the next moment—her head snapped violently to the side.

It took her a second to realize that her cheek had just been struck, hard.

“――――That was for everything up to now. On behalf of all of us. That settles it. Right, everyone? …And once this is all over, I expect you to hit me just as hard. …Then we’ll call it even.”

“…Huh? Um… wait, what…?”

“Sure, I had my fair share of things to say about you. …But that’s in the past. And besides… not one of us noticed it, did we? This ‘second personality’ of yours? That only happens under some seriously massive stress, doesn’t it?”

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t dissociative identity disorder. But—Reicia had undeniably suffered a setback so crushing she resolved to end her life. Even if it was the result of her own choices, that kind of burden wasn’t something anyone should have had to bear alone.

That thought—that realization—was enough for them to start blaming themselves. And that meant, at least to some extent, they had already forgiven her.

“It’s your right to beat yourself up over this if you want to. Actually, I think it’s great that you are. We had it rough too, you know, so if you didn’t regret it even a little, we couldn’t let it slide. …But by the same token, we’re allowed to regret how we cornered you too, aren’t we?”

In other words:

“Just like you feel guilt, we feel guilty toward you too. …That ‘second personality’ of yours? They were stubborn as hell. Always tried to take all the blame themself… though maybe that’s beside the point. Either way, what it comes down to is: we’re equals. The people standing here now aren’t former enemies anymore――we’re fellow comrades who share the same friend.”

They weren’t saints who could forgive everything unconditionally.

If someone did something wrong, they’d get angry. If the circumstances didn’t warrant sympathy, they’d hate. They could even feel contempt. …But if the person in front of them truly regretted their actions, then they could choose to forgive. And they could reflect on their own actions, too. That’s the kind of kind-hearted girls they were.

So maybe, from the very beginning, their choice had already been made.

“Let’s help them. That ‘second personality’ of yours—naive, soft-hearted, and utterly careless about their own well-being. …And after that, let’s start over. Let’s rebuild what we had. Between you and us. That’s what we’ve all decided.”