"Some bonds are stronger than steel. Others, like glass, shatter at the slightest touch."
Rentarō lowered his gun, the weight of his decision pressing on him. He couldn't bring himself to end Shoma's life—not like this. But the battle wasn't over. The war was still raging, and each new encounter with the past felt like a reminder of how far he had to go before it could end.
Shoma remained on the ground, his breathing steady but his eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion. Rentarō had won, but the victory felt hollow.
"You'll regret this," Shoma said softly, his voice carrying a strange mix of bitterness and resignation. "You think you can stop it all. But you're wrong. They've already won."
Rentarō didn't answer at first. His mind raced with the implications of Shoma's words, the unspoken dread hanging in the air. Had everything they fought for been in vain? Was the world really beyond saving? Could he truly protect the future they had all dreamed of?
But then, Rentarō shook his head. "I'm not giving up," he said, his voice firm. "No matter what you think, I'm not done fighting. And I won't let the world fall apart."
Shoma's lips curled into a wry smile. "You think it's that simple? You're still a child in all this, Rentarō. You haven't seen the things I've seen. You haven't fought the kind of battles I have. If you had, maybe you'd understand. Maybe you'd see the truth."
Rentarō crouched down, his eyes locked on Shoma's. "What truth?" he demanded. "What happened to you, Shoma? Where did that hope go? We were supposed to be allies. We were supposed to save people together. What happened to the man who fought by my side?"
Shoma's gaze flickered, a brief moment of recognition passing through his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if remembering something painful. Then he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"Hope is a lie. It's a lie we tell ourselves to keep going. But the world... the world doesn't care about hope. It's too far gone. There are too many forces pulling it apart, Rentarō. And no matter how hard we fight, we'll never put it back together."
Rentarō clenched his fists, anger and frustration bubbling up within him. "You're wrong. I don't care how broken this world is. I'll keep fighting. For the people who can't fight. For the future they deserve."
Shoma chuckled bitterly. "And when it all comes crashing down? When all you have left is blood and ashes? Will you still fight then?"
Rentarō didn't flinch. He stood up, straightening his posture, his voice steady. "Yes. I will."
There was silence between them for a long moment. The air around them felt thick with the weight of their conversation, the tension hanging heavy in the still night. Rentarō knew that whatever path he chose, there would be consequences. But he also knew one thing—he couldn't afford to lose hope. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.
Shoma stared at him for a long time, as if weighing his words, but ultimately, he said nothing. Rentarō turned away, his heart heavy but his resolve unbroken. He had a mission to complete, and no matter how difficult the road ahead, he wouldn't turn back.
"Stay out of my way, Shoma," Rentarō said over his shoulder, his voice cold but resolute. "I won't let you destroy everything we fought for."
Shoma didn't answer. Instead, he simply stood up, his eyes never leaving Rentarō's back as he walked away. The air between them was thick with tension, the bond they once shared now fractured beyond repair.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Rentarō and his team regrouped, the mission weighing heavily on their minds. Enju and Hotaru were quiet, exchanging no words but sharing the same uneasy sense of loss. Rentarō had seen something in Shoma—something that had once been a part of him. And it was that part that hurt the most. To know that Shoma, the man who had taught him so much, had been lost to despair... it felt like a failure, a hole in his heart that could never be filled.
But the mission was still the priority.
"We'll finish what we started," Rentarō said, his voice steady as he addressed his team. "The convoy we intercepted, the data we've gathered—it's not over. There's still more to uncover."
Karasuma, standing off to the side, nodded. "We'll follow through," she said, her tone resolute. "We're not giving up."
Rentarō met her gaze and nodded back. He knew she meant it. They all did. Whatever they had to face, they would face it together.
But in the pit of his stomach, Rentarō couldn't shake the feeling that this battle—this war—was far from over. And worse, it was clear that there were forces at work, pulling strings, manipulating events, and using people like pawns in a game that none of them fully understood.
As Rentarō looked out across the desolate landscape, the words Shoma had spoken echoed in his mind: "When it all comes crashing down..."
He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the next steps. There was still so much to do. They had to find out who was behind all this—the ones pulling the strings, orchestrating everything from the shadows.
And no matter the cost, Rentarō was determined to stop them.