"Some enemies hide behind power. Others behind purpose. The most dangerous ones... behind both."
The silence inside the council chamber was a sharp contrast to the turmoil outside. Since the attack on the cargo line and the emergence of Chrysalis, the city's pulse had changed. More patrols. Less trust. Rumors breeding like spores in the cracks of the shattered Monoliths.
Seitenshi sat beneath the banner of the Tokyo Area. Her porcelain expression never cracked, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her.
Across the chamber, Rentarō stood, flanked by Enju and Karasuma. Tina remained near the rear, quiet, her eyes scanning every shadowed corner like a hawk.
"The council is fractured," Seitenshi said, her voice even. "Half believe Chrysalis is an anomaly. The other half think it's a prototype for a new war doctrine."
"She's not a doctrine," Rentarō said darkly. "She's a weapon without limits. A child with no conscience. And she's not alone."
Seitenshi's gaze sharpened. "You're certain?"
"She didn't kill us," Enju muttered. "She could have. That means there's something worse behind her. Orders. Strategy."
Karasuma nodded. "The convoy wasn't just transport. It was a field test. And we failed."
There was a long pause before Seitenshi whispered, "I want you to find her. But this time—not to destroy her. To understand her. If someone is building an army like her, we need to know who. And why."
Rentarō hesitated.
"We may not get a second chance."
Back at the resistance base, the mood was taut. The old station was packed with maps, field notes, and fragments of salvaged tech. Tina sat at a terminal, her fingers moving fast over a cracked keyboard.
Enju watched her curiously. "You're quiet."
Tina blinked. "I prefer to process things before I speak."
"And what do you think?"
"I think Chrysalis was scanning us. She identified Rentarō by designation. But not you or Hotaru. She called you 'defective models.' That means she was calibrated against something... maybe someone we haven't seen yet."
Rentarō stepped in. "Any luck tracing her?"
Tina shook her head. "She left almost no footprint. No electromagnetic pulse, no biometric echo. It's like she was trained to erase herself."
Enju crossed her arms. "So what now? Wait for her to strike again?"
"No," a voice said from the upper platform.
Everyone turned.
Shōma Nagisawa stepped down the metal stairs, his long coat fluttering slightly from the breeze through the broken roof. He still bore the scars from Aldebaran—his right eye replaced with a steel-laced implant, his gait slowed by the wound in his side—but his presence carried the same quiet gravity that once echoed through the Tendo dojo.
"Now," he said, "we hunt her."
Rentarō narrowed his eyes. "You've changed sides?"
"I haven't," Shōma said. "But I've realized this city doesn't have time for old loyalties. What's coming won't be stopped by the council. Or the dojo. Or sentiment."
Enju stepped forward, frowning. "And what is coming?"
Shōma's expression didn't change.
"She's not the only one. There are more. Chrysalis was the first to break protocol and engage unsanctioned targets. The others... are still waiting for release."
Tina stiffened. "How do you know?"
"I've seen the holding data. Before Mr. Grunewald pulled me out of that battlefield, I was in the same facility she was made in. I saw the names. The numbers. I memorized the deployment triggers."
Rentarō looked stricken. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I didn't think you'd trust me."
Silence hung for a long moment.
Then Rentarō sighed. "I don't. But I trust your hatred for what she represents."
Shōma offered a slight nod. "Then let's get to work."
That night, the team moved toward the edge of the dead zone between Districts 7 and 10. The zone was sealed years ago, after the Gastrea horde wiped out the refugee camps. No patrols, no cameras—only ghosts and silence.
"Why here?" Rentarō asked as they stepped through the rusted barrier.
Shōma answered quietly. "Because this is where the last signal came from. A burst code—a memory fragment Chrysalis left behind."
They reached the collapsed remains of a monorail station. The sky above was open to stars, but below, everything was rot and echo.
Tina suddenly froze.
"Movement," she whispered. "Thirty meters. Elevation—rooftop."
Rentarō drew his gun. Enju slipped into shadow.
Then, from the rooftop, a single figure emerged—barefoot, hair white in the moonlight.
Chrysalis.
She stood still, arms at her sides, eyes glowing with that terrible white fire.
But this time... she looked tired.
No ambush. No attack.
Just watching.
Rentarō took a step forward. "Why are you here?"
Her voice came quiet, processed.
"Awaiting command confirmation.
Subject 074: High clearance.
Proceed with protocol?"
He froze. "...Protocol?"
She tilted her head. Something flickered behind her eyes.
Then—for just an instant—her expression shifted. Not robotic. Not blank.
Human.
Fear.
Tina inhaled sharply. "She's breaking conditioning."
And then, without warning, Chrysalis stepped backward—
—and dropped from the roof, vanishing into the blackened cityscape.
Enju moved to chase, but Rentarō held up a hand. "No. Let her run."
"She could lead us to the others," Karasuma said.
"She will," Rentarō answered. "But not tonight."
He turned to Shōma.
"She hesitated. That means something. We have a chance to reach her before they lock her down."
Shōma didn't answer immediately.
Then: "If you're wrong, people die."
Rentarō looked up at the stars overhead.
"If I'm right... we save what's left of her."