Chapter 10: Masquerade Closing

What the hell is that?

That’s cheating. A last-minute retcon.

But… thinking back on the game’s lore, maybe there were hints. Now that he mentions it, certain parts of the story’s flow make more sense.

Still, what’s the point of fighting an opponent you already know you can’t beat?

That’s what the protagonist does. The heroine. The main characters.

This kind of desperate situation—this is where they rise to the challenge.

So—

"You don’t actually intend to win, do you?"

"————"

The nun smiled—brightly, innocently. Completely out of place.

"Nobody’s asking for that, are they? Be honest—you just want an excuse, don’t you? Do you think getting hurt will count as repentance? If you really cared about others, you’d act like it."

"W-Wait—"

"Throwing yourself away like this is just self-indulgence. You’re not saving anyone. How is that any different from pretending to cry? If all you care about is looking like a good person, then you don’t actually care about their suffering, do you?"

"No... No, no, no, no, no! B-Because, because there’s—!"

There’s nothing else I can do—

No. That’s wrong.

I have to try harder. I have to do this right.

Win. I have to win. If I win here, it’ll make up for everything. If I defeat them, the world will be saved.

The Army’s higher-ups already know how dangerous Overdose Exposure and the Exemplary Demon Demonix are. If I take them down, the merits would be immeasurable. They might even approve the use of the panacea.

Then I could save Sora Misora. I could save the Commander.

I will win.

I’ll try harder. I’ll get serious. I’ll prove I can do it.

So—so, so, so, so, so—

"Oh? Are you looking for someone? Your eyes are begging."

"————Ah."

"It’s fine, you know? If it’s too much, you can ask for help. You’ve already given up on doing it yourself, haven’t you? It’ll still take time for our work to be done, so why not scream for someone?"

"Th-That’s... I, I’ll... do it... properly..."

My heart had already reached its limit.

Even in front of the enemy, I found myself staring at the ground.

Only when the nun’s pale blue light spilled over me did I realize—I’d been looking down.

"Well then, shall we? —Materialization Rate: 100%."

Explosion.

The heat hit me unprotected. I hadn’t even prepared for battle.

The blast sent me tumbling across the rubble-strewn ground. My whole body screamed in pain, but I couldn’t even tell where I was injured. Instinctively, I reached for my face—and when my fingers came away slick with blood, I wanted to cry.

But there was no time for that.

"I…"

It’s impossible.

I was never cut out for this from the beginning.

Even though I know—deep down—these are the words of someone who’s lost the right to be this world’s heroine—

"H-Help me… Sabaki…!"

That was all I could say.

I ran. Staggering.

Pathetically. Without pride. Without dignity.

Not even trying to fight. Just fleeing, like some disposable side character.

I remembered the time Sabaki had relied on me during the battle against Illegal Stimulant Black Dope.

I’d been so happy. So happy.

I thought, I can do this too. Even someone like me has value. He recognized the effort no one else ever had.

And now, I was throwing that value away with my own hands.

"No, no, no, please—I endured, I tried so hard…! Don’t hate me, don’t hate me, don’t hate me…!"

I tripped.

Tears blurred my vision—I couldn’t see where I was stepping.

My mind was fracturing. I could barely stand.

Behind me, they were coming.

Enemies I could never beat, no matter how hard I struggled.

From Overdose Exposure’s outstretched hands, a screeching blue light erupted.

A precise, devastating radiation surge—rewriting the DNA of every living thing in its path.

A crow flying overhead twisted.

Its body convulsed mid-flight, flesh splitting apart, bones stretching into grotesque new shapes. The thing that landed was no longer a crow—it was a monster. A nightmare we’d once fought.

A lizard in the gutter swelled, its form distorting as it expanded to dinosaur-like proportions. It let out a guttural screech and rampaged into the street.

An earthworm at my feet shuddered, bulging, writhing—until its body ripped open into a wriggling mass of horror-movie tentacles.

They weren’t even trying to hide this anymore.

The monsters were overflowing.

Attacking civilians.

I should be helping them.

I should—

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t prioritize that over running away.

No. This is necessary. I have to find Sabaki. I have to ask for help. That’s the right choice.

Even now, I waste mental resources on these pathetic self-justifications.

SNAP.

A rat the size of a large dog—half-melted, oozing, its skeletal frame exposed—lunged at me as I stumbled.

I barely had time to react—

"Materialization Rate 1000%, H2O Manifest—!"

A spear of water sliced through the abomination, its severed body sloshing to the pavement.

Someone landed beside me with a splash.

Blue hair, combat suit, jets of water propelling her like a missile.

"Are you okay, Arisiro-chan!?"

Nijisaki-san.

"I know we’re on opposing missions right now, but let’s call a truce—"

She stopped.

The moment she saw my face, her words caught in her throat.

Then—

"Got it! It’s okay, evacuate now! I’ll hold them off!"

"N-No…! Y-You can’t, you can’t win…! You can’t…!"

"That’s why I can’t give up!!"

"————"

Why?

How can she say something like that so naturally?

Hah… hah…!

It hurts.

I can’t breathe.

This isn’t fair.

It’s impossible.

It’s cheating.

By stats alone, I’m stronger than Nijisaki-san.

But when she shows me this kind of difference, what am I—just some ordinary, faceless mob—supposed to do?

"Ugh… uu… uuu…!!"

No. No. No. No.

I wanted to do this right too.

I wanted to try my hardest too.

I never wanted to be this—someone who never truly atoned, who never genuinely cared, who just pretended to be something more than an ordinary person.

But it’s too painful.

My heart just… hurts too much.

I hesitate.

Feet frozen.

Moving forward is terrifying. Stepping back feels like surrender.

And then—

"Field operatives, arriving on-site!"

"A large-scale reality-altering phenomenon is spreading across the city! For now, cooperate with the Corporation to contain it!"

The flood of Army soldiers rushed past me.

Pushed aside, I stumbled.

Two, three steps back.

These nameless grunts—the kind who’d just be labeled "Soldier A" in a game—were charging toward an unbeatable enemy without hesitation.

If this were a story, I should be moved by their courage.

I should be spurred into action.

But all I can think is how detached it feels.

"————"

It’s impossible.

No matter how hard I struggle—

I can’t do it.

I give up.

I have given up.

I already know.

That I’m hopeless.

"Sabaki… Sabaki, Sabaki, Sabaki, Sabaki… Help me… help me…"

Despite having power, I do nothing—just blending into the fleeing crowd.

Pathetic. Miserable. Shameless.

And yet. Even so.

"Don’t… hate me…"

I still… wanted him to like me.

---

It was early morning.

The blaring evacuation alert jolted Sabaki Moribe awake.

He hurriedly changed clothes and glanced out the window—

"…What the hell?"

The sky was cracked.

Like a shattered screen, black, web-like fissures split across the blue expanse, revealing glimpses of the night sky beyond.

The news called it an "extremely rare optical phenomenon caused by a sudden tornado."

Bullshit.

No way this was natural.

Checking the alerts, skimming reports, it became clear—this wasn’t an ordinary disaster. It had to be supernatural.

Which meant he had no idea how dangerous it was.

A cover-up? Maybe.

If it were the Army or the Corporation, they would’ve disguised it better. Called it atmospheric pollution, a solar anomaly—something.

But this? This was desperate. Sloppy.

Maybe their command structure had collapsed. Maybe the Commander was dead.

Either way, there was nothing Sabaki could do about it.

He turned back to his evacuation bag—half-packed, ready to leave.

…Maybe this was why Kizami left yesterday.

He’d been pretty bummed when she stood him up, but in hindsight, it was probably for the best.

His eyes flicked to the half-finished equipment sitting in the corner.

"…………"

No.

This wasn’t like the underground facility.

Back then, he’d just gotten lucky.

(Unlucky, really.)

This time, he had no advantage. No intel. No reason to think he’d make a difference. Unlike last time, when he was the only one who could act, now there were probably dozens of agents already handling it.

One more person wouldn’t change a thing.

…And yet.

That feeling wouldn’t go away.

That nagging worry—

Even though worrying about her of all people was pointless.

But still—

He sighed and headed for the door.

—No.

Just as he was about to leave—

Ding-dong.

An absurdly carefree chime rang out.

Who the hell’s delivering packages at a time like this?

He opened the door—

"…Arisiro Kizami?"

She stood there.

Battered. Bruised.

Not in her uniform—but that black sleeveless dress he’d only seen once before. White bandages wrapped around her arms and legs. The jacket hood that usually obscured her face was down.

Shock. Confusion.

Before he could say a word, Kizami collapsed against him—

Like a puppet with its strings cut.

His arms instinctively caught her.

She was light. Too light—like the very essence of her had drained away.

Struck speechless, he could only listen as Arisiro Kizami whispered, voice breaking—

"…I couldn’t do anything."

"…Help…"

"Huh?"

"…Help me…"

"W-Wait…?"

Sabaki's mind reeled. The words barely registered—then they did, and his confusion deepened.

"Help me... help me, help me, help me…! I can't—I can't win! Not me, not like this—there’s nothing—nothing I can do…!"

His chest grew damp. His shirt soaked through.

Tears.

He had no idea what to do. There had to be a right answer—some way to calm her, to pull her back from the edge.

But words had never been his strength.

"I—I get it…"

Get what? A hollow, reflexive response.

Yet the moment he said it, he realized—it wasn’t a lie. It was exactly how he felt.

"I’ll help… I’ll help you. Whatever I can do, I’ll do it…"

He adjusted the bag he’d dropped, gripping it tighter.

Every word was true. If there was anything—anything—he could do, he’d do it.

He didn’t know why she’d come to him. Didn’t know what was happening, what that thing was in the sky, what had shattered her.

But none of that mattered.

Kizami—Arisiro Kizami—wasn’t the kind of person to break down like this for no reason.

It was just bad luck. Like last time, the odds had stacked against her. Something small had tipped her over the edge, and all Sabaki had to do was clear the blockage.

There wasn’t much he could do.

But if he fought like hell to set the stage—she could.

"Let’s go, Arisiro. You can explain on the way, so—"

He tugged her hand—then froze.

Kizami didn’t move.

The last of her strength gave out, and she slumped before he could catch her.

"I… can't…"

"————"

"I… can’t do it anymore…"

Tears fell in heavy drops, splattering against the ground.

"No… I tried—I tried so hard—I did everything right—but—but even then, I—I—!"

A sob. A voice choked back, fighting against the kind of raw, screaming grief that would’ve been justified.

"I tried… I tried—I tried and tried and tried—and it still—it still wasn’t enough… so… so…"

Her eyes, desperate, lifted to meet his.

"Don’t… hate me…"

"————"

Before his eyes, Kizami’s combat dress dissolved—reverting to her ordinary school uniform.

"Y-You’re the protagonist… right?"

"Wha—?"

She smiled.

A desperate, pleading, tear-streaked smile.

He’d always loved her smile.

But not like this.

"I know… I know… You’re amazing—not just some high schooler, but someone who trained since childhood, who has power—someone who can beat anyone if they try hard enough, the strongest in this world—someone who can save everyone… Right…? Right…?"

"N-No—wait, Arishi—!"

She lunged.

Knocked him down.

Her hands scrambled for his Materializer, wrenching it free—

—and thrust it into his grip.

"H-Here...! This, right!? You know, don’t you!? DON'T YOU!?!?"

"No… NO! Wait, Arisiro—! That's not—that's just the Magnetic Flux Dead Coil I picked up, and—look, THIS…!"

Her grip was impossibly strong for how frail she looked—it stole his breath.

Still, he managed to reach out, snatching up the glowing wooden sword leaning against the wall. With a sharp tug, he ripped off the plastic attachment on the hilt, exposing the grain of the wood and the carved words:

"Souvenir from Kyoto."

"SEE…!? It's not—none of it's real! I just—I lied to you—!"

"WHY—WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!? STOP IT—STOP IT!!"

Her fist slammed down—punching straight through the floor.

"...Ah… S-Sorry, sorry, Sabaki… I'll pay for it, I'll apologize…"

"…………"

…What is this?

"S-So don’t… don’t hate me. I love you—I love you, I adore you…! Pat my head, call me cute, play with me…! Please, please, PLEASE—"

He didn’t understand.

He had no idea what to do.

So he could only act on instinct.

"…I could never hate you."

"Ah—"

He reached out.

Patted her head.

Then, with all his strength, pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around her small, trembling frame.

"I'll save you… I'll definitely save you… I promise."

No lies. No hesitation.

Just the truth, raw and unfiltered.

"Because I… I love you too…"

So—

Right now, all he wanted was to heal her.