WRAAAAATHH—A thunderous roar, echoing, sounding like a victory declared too soon.
I am inside its intestines now, sliding uncontrollably, pulled toward its stomach—the worst possible fate.
But then, fortune favors me.
CLATCH—I drive the blade into the flesh, gaining a hold with the sword I have just embedded.
I once believe it would never pierce if I charged all the way from the outside, yet fate eases my path from within.
"I will end this. Farewell!"
SLASH—SLASH—SLASH—SLASH—SLASH—I hack and cleave relentlessly. Light pours in. I hang inverted, feet above, head below, arms extended.
My eyes catch its head as it tries to roar again, another cry of pain.
It is over. No part of its body remains whole—only the head itself.
Yet… why do I find myself savoring this? The question forms just before—BLAAAM—I sink.
Father? Mother? Who are they, Oliver? As I descend into the sea, I no longer see only three shadowed figures drifting toward me.
But my vision darkens before their faces become clear. I run out of breath.
"Hiro? Son? Boy?" Their voices echo faintly. The crowd blurs before me. I lift my head slowly as my sight sharpens.
"Are you all right, son?" the captain asks.
Rose offers a gentle, faint smile. "You are all right, hm?"
"As always," I say, "there is nothing to worry about."
I rise among the crowd before me, and they begin to part as I stand.
"Phew!" I release a heavy breath. Somehow, the feeling I sensed before is strange.
How can I enjoy this for—
"Hero?" says one of the women as she steps out from inside the ship.
"Hero!" She nods and smiles warmly at him.
"Hero, hero…" the children shout as they run toward him,
wrapping him in warm embraces.
Everyone cheers now. "Hero, hero, hero, hero, hero."
The captain, a bottle of champagne in hand, the crew taking their own, calls out, "To the hero," raising his glass to the sky.
Clink! Clink!—The crew strike their glasses together.
All of them cry out, "TO THE HERO!"
---
"This is a major mission. Your Majesty has issued this order indirectly. Will you take it, Albert?" asks the figure in the shadows.
"I will resolve it quickly, but my decision depends on Loki's choice," Albert replies, looking at Loki in his chair with a flat expression.
"And what is your response, Loki?" the figure in the shadows asks.
"It is no longer my stage. I squandered that chance," Loki answers briefly, exhaling heavily at the end.
"This mission is to kill someone who wields great power—someone trusted by the Crazy Warrior, the pure disciple of the Crazy Warrior, Raze." the figure in the shadows explains.
"And then?" Loki asks, staring at the figure.
"Then the news will spread. It will reach your blood sibling, Loki," the figure continues.
"Without seeing it with his own eyes, that is nonsense—"
"I expected as much," says a voice unfamiliar to Albert, Loki, and the figure.
The room freezes for a moment, before and after the source of the voice appears and enters the room—Jiza.
"So there is another disciple of that man. Interesting," Jiza says, stopping at the doorway.
"I will kill him myself, if this task has not yet been assigned to anyone."
The figure smiles and turns to Loki.
"This is your stage, Loki."