"This… this isn't what we agreed on!"
Sosei knew her act of betrayal would leave a bitter taste in everyone's mouths. She wasn't naive about that.
Still, she'd gone along with Little Ace's plan for one simple reason:
It could all be undone. Like it never happened.
If they could save Shoko and let Little Ace absorb Nana's power, it could tap into that strength, slip into everyone's minds, and erase their memories of this betrayal. Poof—gone, like a bad dream.
But there were two catches. First, the plan had to go off without a hitch. Second, her friends could only feel a little stung, not so betrayed they'd cut her off for good.
Now, both of those conditions were crumbling.
The "thread" had snapped. That alone proved the rift between Sosei and the others was too deep to just memory-wipe away. And Hikari falling into a coma? That was the nail in the coffin, showing the whole plan had veered wildly off course.
It wasn't just Nero anymore. Hikari, Aine, Riki, and probably even Runa were all lost in the dreamscape now. Forget whether they'd ever forgive Sosei enough to reconnect the "thread." The real problem was they might never wake up.
"This isn't what we agreed on!" Sosei shouted again, her voice thick with grief and fury.
"Just a minor hiccup!" Little Ace scrambled to cover its slip, realizing it'd shown its hand. "Once we get Nana's power, we can still drag them back."
But the moment that aura of "nothing's impossible" and "failure's not an option" cracked, it was gone for good. To Sosei, this plan was supposed to be bulletproof—no room for screw-ups. At its core, it was a high-stakes gamble, a dance on a razor's edge. One slip could snowball into a dozen more, and how was she supposed to keep going with that hanging over her?
Worse, Little Ace's rushed excuse had holes big enough to drive a truck through. "Then why didn't you ever mention this before?" Sosei shot back. "If you've got that kind of power, you could've brought Nero back from the dreamscape too, right?"
So why, in the original plan, did they leave Nero—an ally, not an enemy—trapped in the dream? Sosei's question hung in the air like a guillotine.
The more things went wrong, the easier it was to spot the lies. Little Ace hadn't counted on Aine and the others diving into the dreamscape to save Nero, so its story was falling apart. No matter how it tried to spin it, there was no way to square the circle. It had to pick a poison: either admit it meant to screw Nero over, or confess it couldn't save Hikari and the others.
Both options meant Sosei would never trust it again.
With a heavy sigh, Little Ace gave up the act.
"Guess the Yama Blade's out of reach. Oh well."
For the first time, it dropped the mask in front of Sosei, sneering at the foolish pawn standing before it. "Gotta hand it to you, though. Thanks to you, I at least managed to take the most unstable piece off the board."
Sosei froze, stunned by its sudden shift.
"What… did you just say?"
She could barely choke out the words, refusing to believe it.
"Didn't catch that? Too bad, I don't repeat myself."
Little Ace stepped back, fading into the shadows, leaving only a low, mocking chuckle in its wake. "Those girls are useless to me now, so I'll leave 'em to you. Look on the bright side—at least they won't be mad at you anymore, right? Hahaha…"
Its wicked laughter echoed as a sharp clink cut through the air. The scissors slipped from Sosei's trembling fingers, hitting the ground.
"How… how could this happen?"
A suffocating weight clamped around her throat. She gasped, her oxygen-starved brain spinning, vision darkening. She collapsed to her knees.
"It… it was lying to me…"
In that moment, her hands felt heavier than a thousand demons. She braced herself on all fours, fighting the crushing gravity, staring at her pale, delicate, almost too-perfect hands. Her stomach churned, and she retched.
Those were her hands.
The same hands that had held the scissors and snipped the thread tied to their lives.
In the cold, brutal reality of it all, Sosei was forced to face the truth: there was no salvation in her actions, no justice.
Just betrayal. And murder.
"What… what have I done?"
She watched as faint specks of blood began to appear on her pristine hands. The stains spread, bleeding outward, painting the world a vivid crimson.
She vomited again.
---
…Time passed. How long, she didn't know.
In a world drowned in scarlet, Nagasaki Sosei staggered to her feet.
"It's… not over yet."
Her voice was a faint murmur, like a sleepwalker's whisper. In her grip, the scissors named "Scotty" were clenched tight, blood from her palm dripping along the blade.
"It's not over."
She shut her eyes and said it again.
Her friends were lost in the chaotic dreamscape, but there was one person who could follow the "connection" to find them.
Her.
But there was a catch: you couldn't bring objects into the dreamscape. If Sosei wanted to chase them down, she couldn't take Scotty, the tool that could track them.
There was only one way.
Slowly, Sosei raised her hand, gripping her weapon in reverse, the scissors' sharp point aimed at her own heart.
That's right—if she could merge herself with the weapon, become one with it, wouldn't that solve everything?
She took a deep breath, tightening her hold on the handle.
Then, with a fierce thrust, she drove the blade into her chest.
Pain exploded through her, but Sosei clenched her teeth, silently pushing the scissors deeper.
This was her fault for screwing it all up. This was her atonement.
No blood flowed from the wound. Or rather, every drop in her body was being devoured by the demonic weapon. Only now did Sosei realize the truth about the tool she'd trusted. It wasn't some "demon-hunting gear." It was just a cursed object, born from a demon's will.
And now, that dead demon was drinking her life, clawing its way back to existence.
Endless black mist poured from the wound in her chest, enveloping her entirely.
"ROAR…!!!"
A demonic bellow shook the air as the black fog swallowed everything.
In the heart of the mist, a shadowy figure rose—faceless, formless, like a cloaked specter wielding scissors.
This was Nagasaki Sosei now.
No—it was something else. Fully transformed into a demon, it had lost its human shape. But by some stroke of luck or curse, it had survived the demon's will, clinging to its human consciousness.
The weightless phantom that had once been Nagasaki Sosei flickered.
And sank into the dreamscape.