Matilda walked through the hallway.
She reached the kitchen's threshold.
And froze.
Inside—
Hiro Mizukawa stood still as stone.His coat was gone. His sleeves rolled up.
Both arms extended, index fingers outstretched like twin pistols.
The back door loomed behind him, the only exit for ayame.
He was the gatekeeper.
Caption:
Nero Ability: "Divine light."
As soon as his eyes locked onto Matilda—
FSHHHHH—!!!
A blinding rain of light beams erupted from both his fingers — rapid, precise, relentless.
Matilda dove sideways, barely escaping the first wave.
She slammed her back to the wall beside the kitchen entrance, teeth clenched.
Her breath caught—
But the beams didn't stop.
BOOM. BOOM.
Two light beams tore through the drywall like it was paper —
Piercing her torso.
Blood sprayed. She grunted, staggered.
Then—
She lunged forward.
Through the entry. Into the kitchen.
Gun raised. Finger steady on the trigger, eyes scanning the room.
Empty. No one in front.
But something was wrong.
Her instincts screamed at her.
Then—
A whisper of breath. Just beside her.
Matilda turned her head to right.
Hiro was right there.
Pressed against the wall inside the kitchen, less than a foot away.
He'd shifted during the chaos.
"Too close," she thought.
Her gun tilted—
Too late.
He moved faster.
Wielding a blade made of light in his left arm.
SWING—
Hiro's light blade slashed upward in a tight arc —
CLANG!
The gun's barrel split clean in half, sliced at the tip.
Matilda stumbled back.
Hiro stepped forward, light blade humming in his hand, bringing it down in a brutal vertical arc—
SLASH—
It cut through her torso, blood spraying.
Matilda gasped—legs trembling.
He raised the blade again, stepping in for the final strike.
Then—
BANG!
A hand flew clean off, still gripping the light blade.
Hiro's face twisted in surprise.
Matilda stood where she was, bloodied and swaying —
But her hand was still up.
In it — a short, sawed-off pistol, pulled from the sleeve of her coat.
Still smoking.
The old man staggered back, a sharp exhale escaping him — more in shock than pain.
But even one-armed, he moved fast.
ZAP—
From his right hand, a sudden beam of light shot out — aimed dead at the small pistol in Matilda's hand.
CLANG—!
The beam struck with brutal precision, ripping the gun from her fingers. It clattered to the floor, useless.
Then—Hiro lunges in.
A fist, powered by decades of hardened battle instinct, slammed directly into Matilda's face.
THWUMP!
Her body didn't move.
Hiro blinked.
Stepped back.
The skin on her face — where his knuckles had landed — was no longer flesh.
It was blackened steel.
Slowly her whole body began to turn black.
Then, calmly, she spoke:
"Ferronox. That's what guns are made of."
Caption:
Nero ability: "Transmutation."
She stepped forward.
One boot raised—
THUD.
Her foot slammed into Hiro's gut like a battering ram.
CRASH.
He flew backward, crashing into the kitchen.
Coughing, Hiro rose. Bloodied. Fuming.
He brought his arms up —
One hand severed, the other intact —
And pressed them together.
Both pointed forward.
Then—
A blinding, howling beam of white light exploded from his palms.
The beam slammed into her chest — a sun-lance aimed straight at her heart.
Her steel body hissed, metal glowing molten red.
But she didn't stop.
She grinned.
And then, slowly… she raised her hands.
Both palms pressed flat against her chest, right where the beam scorched her.
Not to shield — but to embrace it.
Fingers splayed, as if soothing the searing pain — or inviting more.
Like a lover whispering, "Yes… right there."
And then—
"Give it to me, old man." she breathed, voice cracked and trembling with thrill.
Her voice cracked and distorted, warped by heat and ecstasy.
"Come on — shoot it all out! More, more!"
Hiro's eyes widened.
Somewhere in the distance, Dalton's voice cut through:
"Oi. Cut the crap." as he heard stuff.
Matilda laughed — a rasping, near-feral sound, lips curled back in something that wasn't quite a smile.
"I'm almost there," she whispered.
As she walked forward.
Her eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a breathy grin.
Voice low. with satisfaction.
"Right there… don't stop now…"
Then—
She closed the distance.
Hiro tried to pull back, stagger away—
But she was already there.
Her breath soft. A curl of a smile.
"Mmm... that hit the spot."
And with that —
She plunged her glowing fingers into his eye sockets.
SQUELCH.
His body jolted. Twitched.
Then went still.
She let him drop. Smoke curling from his eye sockets.
As he collapsed, barely clinging to breath,
his lips moved… a final whisper.
"…Ayame…"
A faint smile.
"Stay safe… little one."
6:17 PM
A black car sped down the highway, its headlights cutting through the soft blue haze of twilight.
Inside — silence.
Rika kept her focus on the wheel. Jaw tight. Eyes hard.
Ayame sat in the passenger seat, still draped in her grandfather's coat. Her hands were folded in her lap, fingers clenched tight. A faint smear of blood clung to her cheek, dried now. Her eyes were open but distant — not watching the road, not seeing the blur of trees and signs passing by. Just... lost.
Back at the apartment
The road outside was stained red.
Bodies lay motionless — Mizukawa guards, cut down with clinical efficiency. Blood pooled in the cracks of the pavement. A few had died clutching their weapons. Most never got the chance.
Inside the apartment.
The room was dim, smoke curling near the ceiling. Bullet holes lined the walls. The smell of blood and scorched metal hung heavy.
The cake still sat on the table — spattered with blood, one corner sunken where a bullet had passed through.
Matilda leaned in, humming softly. She ran a finger along the icing that now barely spelled AYAME MIZUKAWA and licked it clean.
"Mm," she said, chewing. "Not bad."
Dalton was near the apartment's entrance, he leaned back in one of the folding chairs.
His coat was off, slung over one shoulder — stained with blood.
His arms hung loosely at his sides.
Legs stretched wide out in front of him.
Finished his job, waiting for her to as well.
Then — with a quiet grunt — he stood.
The coat came off his shoulder in one motion, and he tossed it toward Matilda without looking.
"Put something on, for God's sake," he muttered.
As he turned, his eyes landed on the wall in front of them.
A large photo frame — cracked but still hanging.
Matilda caught it one-handed, smirking. She slid it over her shoulders — no shirt beneath, pants still on — and let the coat hang open. Burn scars peeked through the coat. She looked completely unfazed.
Leans in takes the cake knife and casually sliced herself a piece — off-center, ruined, but edible.
Popped a bite into her mouth, humming to herself like she'd just returned from a jog.
"Where to next?" she asked, through a mouthful of sugar and blood.
Dalton didn't answer.
He was staring straight ahead — eyes fixed, posture still.
Matilda followed his gaze.
She stepped forward, beside him.
The apartment had gone quiet now. Just the faint creak of broken wood.
Then—
A wide shot.
From behind them, both standing shoulder to shoulder.
In front of them: a large photo frame, cracked down one side but still clinging to the wall.
Inside the frame:
A monastery, stone and old and peaceful in the image.
Standing before it — Hiro, Ayame beside him, maybe seven. Monks lined around them.
Matilda tilted her head. "Huh."
Dalton's jaw clenched, just slightly.
"…Maybe I know exactly where to," he muttered.