Chapter 38: Fake

“Seems like quite the chaos down there. Did we have a visitor on the schedwell?”

The glass walls of the observation deck provided a pristine view of the scene unfolding below.

Ellen Mathers stood still, her ice-blue eyes reflecting distant firebursts and streaks of smoke—chaos unraveling like an unending thread.

A voice spoke up behind her, just as her focus began to drift.

Sir Isaac Westcott lounged casually in his chair, fingers steepled, an amused smirk curled at the edges of his lips.

“No, that’s certainly not in today’s schedule. We’ve got intruders, Ike.”

“Hmm~”

“...”

Ellen’s gaze didn’t shift. Her eyes were locked on someone she never expected to face so soon—not after what happened just a few hours ago.

Amidst the flames and torn concrete, her eyes fixed on a lone figure standing still against the chaos.

Sawa.

Once a test subject. Later, a broken girl shaped by trauma.

And now… standing in defiance.

She was never supposed to have the strength to stand in their way again.

Yet there she was.

“The report says we’re under attack by Nightmare and a high school boy. Shido Itsuka and…”

A chair creaked behind her. The soft scrape of leather, the faint sigh of shifting weight. Then—footsteps, slow and deliberate, approached from behind.

Without a word, the presence came to a stop beside her.

Ellen didn’t need to look. She could already feel his eyes on the battlefield.

“Material B…”

“You mean Bride? Or her human name—she actually picked one, just like Princess. Sawa, wasn’t it? My, they really do want to blend in with the humans, don’t they, Ellen-chan?”

“…Yeah.”

A quiet pause.

Westcott brushed his hand across the glass wall, fingers gliding smoothly as his gaze locked onto Sawa—just as her face was lit up by the glow of the battlefield flames.

“Hm?... That expression…”

Only then did something seem to catch his attention.

“Is she afraid? Angry? Grieving?... I can’t quite tell. What is that face she’s making?”

“…”

Ellen didn’t need to ask. She knew what was puzzling him.

The Spirit staring back at them—locking eyes through fire and distance—wore what some might call…a broken experience.

“She’s on the verge of inversion, isn’t she…”

“…Shall I request a scan of her emotional state and Reiryoku readings?”

“No need for that. We can use this time for something more important… Even if we don’t quite understand what’s going on inside her head, there’s one thing we do know. Right, Ellen?”

“Yes. It’s obvious, Ike.”

Ellen stepped back from the glass. A flash of light swallowed her whole, before fading moments later, revealing her in her light gray and white CR-Unit. A glowing saber hummed quietly in her grip.

“Are you sure you can handle her, Ellen? She’s not exactly stable. And you know better than anyone how dangerous an unstable Spirit can be.”

“Stop joking around, Ike. I already took her down once. I’m the strongest wizard in the world for a reason.”

“Hm, I see. Then go—show me what the strongest is capable of.”

Ellen didn’t answer.

She simply raised her blade—

—and in one fluid motion, carved a perfect, shimmering rift into the glass wall before leaving into the air.

The night pulsed with a low hum of tension, broken only by the distant drone of collapsing structures and the hiss of ruptured circuitry. Clouds hung low over the scorched skyline, casting moving shadows over DEM Industries' Japanese branch—now a fractured shell of glass and steel.

Just beyond its perimeter, the battlefield breathed.

A shape moved through the smoke—sleek, silver, precise. A blur of motion clad in white and grey armor, her blade glowing softly with focused Mana.

Just as her form became traceable to the naked eye, it would blur—vanishing from sight in the next breath, replaced instead by a surge of massive, plant-like vines striking the space where she had just been.

The one behind the attack stood amidst a storm of petals and twisting vines—a figure draped in green and black. Unarmored. Human, at first glance. But the way the earth curled protectively around her feet, the way each breath sent subtle tremors through the soil, told another story entirely.

“Haff... Haff... Haff...”

Roots erupted from the ground, twisting with unnatural speed, snapping toward their target like spears.

The armored figure didn’t flinch.

She stepped once—then vanished.

"!!"

In the next instant, the vines were cleaved apart, severed midair in a blur of light.

“Hmph...”

Though the battle was clearly meant for two, some of the wandering Bandersnatch units—meant for totaly different purpose—were dragged into the storm from time to time.

Pulled into chaos they weren’t designed for.

Some were caught directly in the path of living thorns, impaled and shredded before they could react. Others were manipulated, used as momentary shields or distractions by the armored woman herself—tossed between strategies as effortlessly as tools.

Protocol meant nothing here.

“Haa... Haa... Haa...”

—I… I’m doing it.

The human-looking creature—called a Spirit by those who know even a little of what they were—stood in the chaos, her long, beautiful brown hair spilling around her shoulders, streaked with strands of white like ash in flame.

—I… I’m fighting!

A wedding dress clung to her frame, its original color long devoured by the shadows of night. Torn in places, singed in others. The Spirit—Sawa, someone once called her—held it tightly with trembling fingers, as if anchoring herself to what remained.

—My chest hurts. My legs feel like they’re being pulled through concrete. But I’m still standing.

Her other hand pressed against her chest, desperate to steady her racing heart... as if to keep it from bursting from its place.

Why?

She’s so strong. And yet—I'm still here. Still fighting her.

—I'm really fighting!

The air burned.

Each breath dragged smoke and ash into my lungs. My throat stung. My ribs ached. My vision blurred at the edges, trembling from exhaustion.

But I kept moving.

“Haa... Haa... Haa...”

—I haven’t blacked out yet.

—I haven’t run.

A shockwave ripped through the ground beside me. Another vine shattered into sparks. She was there again—above, beside, behind me—all at once.

That unnatural movement. That perfect precision.

The way her strikes never missed unless she wanted them to.

“Still trying?” she called, voice sharp but calm. “How admirable.”

Her tone didn’t change. Not even now. Not after everything I’d thrown at her.

“It’s sweet, really. Watching you flail around like this. Like a bug trapped under glass.”

She laughed—lightly. Not cruelly. Just… entertained.

Like I was a performance.

—She’s always looked at me like that. They all did...

Like something beneath them—something not even worth bothering with...

The girl in white armor dropped down, landing effortlessly. Her heels tapped against fractured concrete like a ballroom floor.

“Are you still clinging to the idea of winning?”

Her form seemed hollow—shadow-like... She didn’t even look human anymore. Like a ghost haunting my dreams.

"What did you think would happen after coming all the way here?" she asked, stepping forward, blade at her side. Not raised. Not even ready.

She didn’t need to be.

—Because I can’t win. I know that.

"Huff. Huff. N-not yet..."

She’s faster. Stronger. Smarter. Everything I’m not.

And yet—

—I’m still here.

There’s blood on my hands. On my arms. My legs scraped raw. My body shouldn’t be standing. My Spirit Dress barely holds its form anymore. But I’m not kneeling.

—I’m not kneeling.

It doesn’t make sense.

I’ve always been good at giving up. Shutting down before it could hurt. Before hope had the chance to betray me.

So why now?

Why does it feel... different?

“Did you go deaf, Spirit...?”

The fear’s still there. Their shadow still crushes me—just like back then. When I couldn’t breathe without permission. When I begged for relief that didn’t come wrapped in pain. When every scan, every test, every procedure happened beneath their smiling faces.

I don’t even remember what that place looked like—only the white ceiling above me.

—I never thought I’d leave.

I was supposed to stay there forever. Or disappear.

But now—

—I’m alive.

Burning. Shaking. Breaking.

But not fading.

My fingers curl around the torn fabric of my dress. My hand won’t stop trembling.

But deep inside—something’s finally still.

I look up at her. And just for a moment... it isn’t fear that fills me.

It’s something else.

Not hope.

Not hate.

Just—me.

The version of me I thought was gone.

The human who wanted to live.

...Is this what freedom feels like?

I’m not sure.

There’s a storm in my head. Screams from another time. The sharp smell of antiseptic. Cold metal under my back. I still flinch at the sound of steel scraping steel. I still forget how to breathe when I hear that name.

Material B.

But now?

I’m moving on instinct.

No plan. No hesitation.

And somehow, it feels real.

For once, I’m not waiting for someone to save me. Not hoping the pain will stop. I’m doing something. Even if it’s meaningless. Even if this ends with her sword through my chest.

Even if I lose here, even if this is where it all ends—this moment is mine.

I’ll give it everything. Everything I’ve learned, everything this new body can do—no holding back.

Because anything less wouldn’t be enough. Not against them. Not ever.

....

"...H-Huh?"

For a split second, the world around her seemed to shift. Ellen—armor gleaming—blurred like a glitch in reality...

I rubbed my eyes, and everything snapped back to normal.

“T-that’s not important...”

What mattered now was giving it my all—

—to take back my freedom.

"Huff... Huff..."

The world spun around her. Dust clouds churned in the air, chunks of concrete crumbled, and shattered glass sparkled like stars against the chaotic backdrop.

"T-That’s not..."

She tried to push herself up, but her legs buckled. She fell to one knee, barely keeping herself upright, her weight supported by the other.

"Khg..."

Her left arm hung limp, numb, the blood long dried and stiff on her wounds.

"That’s not how it was supposed to go..."

She gasped for air, but the smoke choked her, dust filling her lungs and suffocating her breath.

Around her, the ruin of the building stood like a broken monument to failure—a once-proud structure now reduced to a jagged shell.

The ground trembled as another chunk of the building crashed to the earth, sending dust into the air like a violent storm.

Just as she closed her eyes, shielding them from the approaching dust, she dragged her hand across the concrete. Her fingers slipped through the blood staining her skin, leaving a smear as her body refused to respond as it should. Every movement was slower than the last, as if her body itself were fighting her, as if it wanted to give up.

"W-Why... is she so strong... so suddenly?"

With great effort, she lifted her gaze. The figure was already floating closer, the dust still obscuring her features. Yet, for some reason, those eyes—bloody red—were visible through the haze, glowing with an eerie intensity.

A chill ran down her spine, a cold shock cutting through the heat of the flames that surrounded her.

"D-Damn it... I—I’m the strongest... I won’t lose here...Not like that"

Even with one arm useless, her other was still capable of fighting.

Her eyes darted around, searching desperately. There—her lightsaber. She reached for it, fingers trembling, tightening around its hilt. She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t.

"I’m Ellen. The strongest there is... I won’t accept this humiliation."

She knew how powerful Spirits could be. She’d spent years studying them, training relentlessly. Earning her title as the strongest mage in the world wasn’t just a title—it was the price of survival. It was the only way to stand a chance against creatures like these.

The wounds, the exhaustion—it was expected. That much was a given.
So why losing her composure?

"T-That’s just..."

Losing? No. it wasn’t that simple.

"Not acceptable!"

What truly frustrated her, what burned deeper than the pain, was the simple fact that—throughout the entire fight—she hadn’t landed a single blow. Not one.

Even if she hated to admit it. Even if her pride refused to say it aloud. The truth remained: the whole fight had been nothing but a struggle to survive.

All she’d done was survive.

The whole battle had been one long, desperate attempt to stay alive.

"...Y-You!!"

From the swirling dust, The figure emerged.

At first, it was a silhouette, obscured by the chaos of debris and smoke. Then the outlines sharpened, and through the haze, she slowly floated forward—Sawa.

The once pristine wedding dress clung to her form, now torn and shredded, burnt in places where the flames had licked at its fabric. The once-white cloth was a patchwork of blackened edges, frayed ribbons, and charred remnants of what used to be something beautiful. 

Her hair—a deep brown, once rich and vibrant—now held a dull, lifeless sheen, streaked with strands of white, like ash falling from a dying fire.

The vines—Thorns—dark, twisting, and ferocious—writhed around her like serpents, violent in their movement. They cracked the earth beneath her feet as they rose and coiled.

"W-What with the expression..."

That was the first thing that caught Ellen’s attention the whole time... even before she had parted from Westcott.

It was as if the girl before her was a mere shadow of someone else, trapped in a moment far removed from the present.

Sawa’s face—no, that expression—wasn’t one of fury. Nor madness. It was something far worse.

Her body floated forward slowly, as if pulled by something inevitable. Her eyes were locked, wide open, the whites stark against her soot-stained skin. Her pupils had shrunk to tiny dots, centered and frozen, like she wasn’t seeing Ellen—but something far, far beyond.

Her mouth hung slightly open, the lips parted just enough to show the faint line of her upper teeth. They were clenched—not in anger, but in a frozen tension, like her jaw had locked mid-reaction. The corners of her mouth twitched subtly, trembling without motion, as if any attempt to speak had been stolen away the moment it tried to surface.

Just that same, paralyzed stare.
As if she’d kissed fate itself—
—and saw the world shatter in return.

But that wasn’t it.

Not completely.

Because behind those frozen pupils and trembling lips, there was something deeper—a crack in perception itself.
This wasn’t just shock. It was dissonance.
A mind bent out of shape by years of pain, twisted into believing a lie it couldn’t let go of.

—Cognitive Distortion

A negative or irrational thought patterns that can negatively impact how individuals perceive reality, leading to distorted thinking.

Sawa had always seen—without even realizing it—Ellen, or rather anyone tied to DEM, as an unreachable wall.
The pinnacle.
The unbeatable.
The untouchable.

For six long years, that belief had been etched into her bones.
Not with words.
But with pain.
With inhuman trials.
Day after day, inside DEM’s sterile, white hell.

No warmth. No validation. No truth.

Just one message, repeated until it became her reality:
That she was less.
That she was replaceable.
That they were everything she wasn’t.

And even now—with the battlefield scorched around them, with Ellen kneeling in the dirt and blood, one arm limp at her side, gasping like a fish caught in the fire—
—even now…

It wasn’t what Sawa was seeing through her eyes.

She was still trapped in that warped mirror.
Still seeing herself as the broken girl who could never measure up.

And so, she fought like someone with nothing to lose.
No hesitation.
No restraint.
No mercy.

Every move was precise. Instinctive.
Fueled not by hate, but by the desperate need to survive a threat…
…that no longer existed.

Because in her mind—Ellen wasn’t just strong.

She was impossible.

What Sawa didn’t realize—
Was that she’d already gone beyond.

She had become the overwhelming force.
She was the storm consuming the battlefield whole.

And Ellen?
Ellen was just trying to survive.

But that’s the cruel thing about cognitive distortion—
When the mind breaks, it doesn’t care what’s real.

It only sees what it’s been forced to believe.

And right now…
Sawa still believed she was the weak one.

Even as she crushed the strongest mage in the world with ease.