The sunset's last glow faded, twilight swallowing the warmth before exhaling a curve of moonlight that hooked onto bare branches, trading day for a cold, desolate night.
At the boundary between dusk and moonlight, in the final scraps of a ruined world, two figures sat apart.
Phaga managed to stay upright, leaning against a shattered wall as he stared at the line dividing day from night.
Below that line, the Doppelgänger Hollow shrank at alarming speed. Its edge chased the Ethereal relentlessly; anything that lagged behind vanished the instant it brushed the collapsing boundary.
"The Hollow is collapsing," Phaga murmured.
[Yeah, Creator, you really don't hold back, huh?]
Phaga turned toward the voice.
Black lay not far away, sprawled on a scorched patch of ground. Its wings had been torn clean off, its limbs twisted grotesquely, and a massive Ether crystal pierced straight through its abdomen—
as if a nail had pinned him to the earth.
[Since I'm dying anyway, humor me. Chat with me a bit.]
With wings gone and limbs ruined, unless Phaga personally pulled out the crystal lodged in its gut, Black would die the moment the boundary reached him.
And that was something no one needed to think twice about—Phaga obviously wouldn't.
Black didn't seem bothered. It had already fought to its limit.
Phaga shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about. Just wait for death."
[Hey, don't be like that.]
Black cried out, but Phaga ignored him completely.
So Black began monologuing—weather, food, electronics, the political chessboard of New Eridu—pretending it knew everything, grasping at any topic that might draw Phaga into a conversation. Anything to make the end feel less empty, so oblivion wouldn't sweep away a life that had barely been lived.
Finally, as the Hollow's shrinking edge swept ever closer, Black hit the one thing that made Phaga pause.
[Hey, Creator… I saw a Shark-Thiren in your memories. She fought alongside you a lot. What's your relationship with her now?]
Ding. Password accepted.
Phaga stiffened, surprise flickering faintly across his face—
and without realizing it, the corner of his mouth lifted.
[Whoa, you smiled! Didn't think the Creator ever smiled. Every time you see your handsome follower you go straight for the kill—I thought you didn't even have the muscle for smiling.]
[Come on, tell me! What's your relationship now? Tell me, tell me!]
"You're handsome… you really are handsome…"
Phaga almost snapped at him but stopped himself—after all, the thing pestering him looked exactly like him.
"Family. She's family. Very important family. Now shut up."
He shot Black an irritable glance, a strange feeling tugging inside him. This thing had tried to kill him moments ago, yet now that death was certain, it spoke with startling calm.
[Family, huh…]
Black muttered, tasting the weight of that word.
Then, just before the boundary swallowed him, he suddenly smiled—relieved.
[The Creator abandoned from childhood… forced to shield Himself with cold indifference… has finally found someone who cares.]
[Then protect yourself well, Creator. Live long—long enough for your hair to go gray.]
[Go home.]
Something jolted inside Phaga. He jerked his head toward Black —
but the collapse was faster.
All he caught was the fading scatter of particles drifting apart.
Thud.
The Ether crystal hit the ground.
Black was gone.
So… it was time to go home.
With that thought, Phaga let out a faint, relaxed smile and pressed his hands to the ground to stand.
"Phaga!"
A breathless voice cried out.
In a haze, Phaga recognized it instantly. He looked up on instinct—
but before he could see clearly, a shadow barreled into him. They landed together; hands shielded the back of Phaga's head, a tail cushioned his waist, and arms clamped around him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"Ellen… loosen up—I'm… suffocating."
His eyes were still covered by hair, unable to see her face. But the heat in her embrace, the familiar orchid scent drifting from her hair, and the tail curled at his waist—there was no mistaking it.
Ellen.
Realizing how aggressively she'd tackled him, Ellen scrambled off, pushing him upright and anxiously running her hands over him.
"Ah—sorry, Phaga! Are you hurt? Let me check—"
Her worry grew as she inspected him, but his shredded clothing got in the way. So she simply grabbed the hem of his shirt, preparing to rip it off.
"Wait—stop! Knock it off! People are watching!"
If they were at home… No—still unacceptable! With Ellen's ridiculously fragile defenses, she'd probably knock herself out before helping him.
And they were definitely not alone.
Right now she was too worried to be embarrassed, but once she calmed down, she'd be blushing under her blankets for hours.
"Exactly, Ellen. Phaga looks plenty healthy. Using 'injury inspection' as an excuse to strip someone in broad daylight is not a great look."
"And we two single girls are still right here!"
Rain and Ruby approached from behind. Rain wore a teasing grin as she slung an arm over Ruby's shoulder.
"Ruby, what do you think? Ellen justified or not?"
"Huh? I think it's— You little shark! Ellen, that's way too much!"
Ruby had intended to say it was fine—she was used to it. But once she remembered that disagreeing meant watching Ellen's face go scarlet, she immediately flipped sides, hands on hips, chin tilted proudly.
Meanwhile, her free hand slipped into her pocket, ready to pull out her phone at any moment.
A single good shot of Ellen could net a hundred thousand Dennies from that vampire sucker. Lovely.
As expected, Ellen's face erupted in red. Under Rain and Ruby's teasing, she ducked behind Phaga, using his shoulder to hide her flushed cheeks.
"I'm just worried about Phaga, okay? Look at his face—it's already so pale!"
Rain tilted her head. "Hasn't his face always been that pale?"
"Yeah, what's different?"
Ruby tapped her lips thoughtfully. "Phaga's always been paler than me three days dead."
"That's NOT TRUE!!!"
Determined to prove she wasn't acting like a creep, Ellen mustered her courage and stepped forward, poking Phaga's cheek.
"Look closely!"
"His face is usually moon-white. When he's badly hurt, it turns pale—like a pearl with a thin layer of gray."
"But right now? He's in between. Which means his injuries are in between—not critical, but not mild either!"
Phaga glanced at her. She lifted her chin proudly, like she'd just mastered some profound art.
Why are you proud of this…?
He pressed a palm to his forehead.
Ellen noticed at once. "Phaga, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
No. The one who might be unwell is you.
Phaga closed his eyes.
Sure enough, Rain and Ruby finally pieced it together.
Rain frowned. "Ellen, let me ask—can you even tell lipstick shades apart?"
Ellen froze. "I can't!"
"You can't tell lipstick shades apart, but you can accurately describe exactly how white Phaga's face is?"
Rain stared, dumbfounded.
"Oh, I get it!"
Ruby lifted a finger, striking a confident pose.
"Separate matters. Don't mix them up."