"The past never truly dies. It waits, like a shadow, to strike when you least expect it."
Rentarō stood frozen, the words from the masked figure ringing in his ears. He didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe it.
The person standing before him was someone he had lost. Someone who had disappeared in the chaos of the past, someone whose fate he'd never been able to accept. The memories were still fresh, the guilt still gnawing at him.
But now, in the dim light of the warehouse, Rentarō saw a face he thought was long gone.
"Is that really you…?" Rentarō whispered, his voice barely audible.
The figure didn't respond immediately. Instead, they tilted their head, studying Rentarō with cold, emotionless eyes. Rentarō's heart pounded. It couldn't be. He saw him die. It was impossible.
"Rentarō Satomi," the figure said, their voice tinged with recognition. "It's been a long time."
The voice… it was unmistakable. His tone, his presence—it all made Rentarō's chest tighten. The last time he'd seen him, they'd been on the same side, fighting together. But now, there was nothing familiar about this person standing before him. Only coldness.
"No…" Rentarō's voice cracked. "You… You died. I couldn't save you."
The figure's lips curled into a grim smile, but there was no warmth in it—only mockery. "You couldn't save anyone, could you? Not even me."
The words stung more than Rentarō was ready to admit. The guilt of his failure, the crushing weight of the responsibility he carried—it all surged to the surface.
But he couldn't afford to show weakness. Not now.
"Who are you now?" Rentarō demanded, his voice steadier this time. "What have you become?"
The figure stepped forward, their presence oppressive. "What do you think, Rentarō? The same as you. A survivor. But I've seen the truth. I know what this world is really about."
Rentarō clenched his fists, the pain in his chest threatening to consume him. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what it's like… to lose everything."
"I lost everything too," the figure replied, his eyes flashing with cold intensity. "But unlike you, I learned to adapt. I learned what it means to survive."
Rentarō took a step back, trying to make sense of what was happening. The person standing before him wasn't the one he knew. This wasn't just someone who had survived the war—they had changed. Something had warped them.
"You're part of all this, aren't you?" Rentarō said, his voice tight with realization. "You're with the Council."
The figure's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. "The Council?" He laughed darkly. "No, Rentarō. You still don't understand. I'm beyond them. I'm beyond all of this."
Rentarō felt a chill run down his spine. The person in front of him had once been a friend, a comrade. But now, they were something else entirely. Something far darker.
"You're not the person I knew," Rentarō said quietly, his gaze hardening. "So why are you here? What do you want?"
The figure's eyes darkened. "I came to make you realize something. All this time you've spent fighting for a future—fighting to save people—it's meaningless. This world is beyond saving. The only thing left is to adapt to the inevitable."
Rentarō's mind raced. This isn't him. This isn't the person I knew. And yet, there was a part of him that couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Maybe the world they were fighting for was already lost. Maybe everything they had done was in vain.
"Then why keep fighting?" Rentarō asked, his voice heavy with bitterness. "If it's all meaningless, then why don't you just end it?"
The figure's expression softened for a fraction of a second, but it was gone in an instant. "I'm not here to end it, Rentarō. I'm here to show you. To make you understand what comes next."
Before Rentarō could respond, the figure moved, faster than he could react. In a blink, they were on top of him, their hand grasping Rentarō's collar and slamming him against the nearby wall.
Rentarō gasped, pain shooting through his body, but he refused to yield. He struggled against the grip, his mind racing for an escape.
"You can't fight it," the figure said, his voice low and cold. "You can't change what's already been set into motion."
Just then, a sharp cry cut through the tension. Enju.
Rentarō turned his head, but the figure's grip tightened. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Enju get caught in this. Not again.
With a surge of adrenaline, Rentarō broke free, pushing the figure away with everything he had. He stumbled backward, his breath ragged, but he managed to stay on his feet.
"Enju!" Rentarō shouted, seeing her struggling against another shadowed figure emerging from the darkness. But this time, it wasn't the one from before—it was another figure, just as dangerous, just as relentless.
Rentarō's heart raced as he turned to face the new threat. "Get away from her!" he yelled, but the shadow simply smirked, unbothered by the warning.
This fight wasn't over. Not yet.