On a temporary and delicate high, the joy of triumph was fleeting. Despite the stumbling back to the dorm in the unexpected, shocking normalcy of the post-midnight world; the shared, expressionless expressions of exhausted triumph in the elevator; and the restless hours until the Dark Hour ended, it remained.
It lingered until our floor's doors slid shut and the reality of our actions, particularly my own, started to settle like a fine, poisonous dust.
Voiding, agonizing exhaustion replaced the adrenaline that had drained my system. It went beyond the physical. It was as if I had channeled not only power but also a part of my very being; it was a profound, metaphysical drain.
My body ached, and my mind was sluggish and syrupy. Quiet, not sleeping, but satisfied, was the entity within. It was as if a predator had been granted permission to hunt.
I failed to reach my room. As I sank into the couch in the living room, I felt as though the world was whirling around me.
Everyone else was in a comparable situation.
Soft snoring emanated from Junpei's mouth as he dove into an armchair, his head drooping. With her eyes closed and her breaths slow and deliberate, Yukari leaned against the wall. While pacing, Akihiko's steps grew slower and less energetic, as if the coil of his energy had finally unwound.
Looking out at the city as it slept, Makoto did nothing more than stand by the window. In the midst of our shared weariness, he appeared to be the least impacted, a steady rock. His grey eyes peered down at me as I struggled to pour a glass of water, noticing my pale complexion and the slight tremor in my hands. Silent he remained.
Last to come in was Mitsuru. Her normally composed demeanor couldn't hide the tightness around her eyes or the pale cast to her skin, though she looked stunning as usual. With her strategic mind on full blast, she had been smack dab in the middle of the action.
From her vantage point, she could see that Junpei was fast asleep, Yukari was exhausted, Akihiko was winding down, and I appeared as though I had been through a metaphysical ordeal.
She announced, her voice less forceful than normal, "The operation was a success," the next day. It was both an admission of guilt and an affirmation of truth. The moon had been unable to deter us. "Take a break. You all need it. Our full debrief will take place tomorrow."
From across the room, we locked gazes. They were holding a secret worry, something she would never bring up in public. A tentative nod escaped my lips. Nothing wrong with me. It's me, still. She nodded slightly in acknowledgment before turning to go to her room, the sound of her heels crunching on the hardwood floor.
Once she departed, a soothing stillness descended. The stillness betrayed the shared suffering, the triumph over adversity. No more wary evaluations or suspicious looks. I had stopped being the outlier. I was the one who stood firm when a deity of doom attempted to break us. The lock did its job.
The price of that hold started to become clear as I mustered the strength to get up and head back to my room.
Dreams were a shattered, sweltering terrain. I did not awaken with my dreams. They resounded like the sorrow of the Reaper, fragments of undeserved regret, and dreams of conclusions I had never seen.
Under a verdant sky, I beheld a battlefield littered with lifeless bodies. It was as if a tomb were closing its cold, final door on me. The final, labored breath of a thousand lost spirits reached my ears. As the Entity analyzed the ideas it had engaged with, I found myself tagged along, a victim of my own anxieties.
I awoke gasping, sweating profusely, and with the ghostly smell of grave dirt in my nose. At 5:23 AM, the digital clock beeped. No amount of sleep would help.
Attracted by the muted light and aroma of coffee, I meandered into the common area. Makoto was already dressed and drinking from a cup when I arrived. A book lay open on the table beside him, yet he showed no signs of picking it up to read. All he could do was stare off into the distance.
"You couldn't sleep, either?" I inquired, my voice rough. He shook his head gradually. "The quiet is loud after that fight."
To this day, I still consider it his most perceptive statement. He had a point. A resounding stillness followed the psychic scream of the Reaper, a void that was in some way more ear-piercing.
He indicated the coffee machine with his hand. "Take care of yourself."
There was an overwhelming need to speak, to establish a solid foundation as I poured the bitter, life-giving liquid. "In my dreams, it showed me things. The hopelessness. I felt completely overwhelmed."
Slowly, Makoto drank. "It's the cost. You made a significant impact. It makes an impression." Then he turned to me. "Who You Are... It goes beyond simply opposing them. It deciphers them. No one else gets a closer look than you do. The origin of the shadow is visible to you."
"It feels like a violation," I admitted as I leaned against the counter. The universe's filthy laundry is like a treasure hunt for me."
There was a sliver of a smile that touched his lips. "It cannot be avoided."
The subsequent few days were a study in the stages of gradual recovery and the dynamics of shifting. Our only role at school was that of students. We were soldiers who were decompressing after a mission when we were in the dormitory.
Junpei has overcome his initial fear of me and is now almost annoyingly enthusiastic about me. During lunch, he would give me a slap on the back that was a little too harsh, and then he would say, "Dude, that was insane! The manner in which you simply stood there and told death to go off and have a rest! It's almost like you're a superhero!"
Although it was done with good intentions, it actually made me feel uneasy. In no way was I a hero. I worked as a caretaker. A janitor for the horrors of the cosmos.
Yukari's expression of gratitude was more subdued, but it was real. Suddenly, she began to include me in conversations and inquired about my thoughts on various trivial matters. Without the awkwardness of a grand gesture, she was able to convey sentiments such as "thank you" and "you are one of us" through this gesture.
Action was the means by which Akihiko worked to earn respect. Despite the fact that our training sessions continued, the atmosphere had shifted. My limits were no longer being tested by him; rather, he was assisting me in expanding them.
He would say, "Your stamina is your weak point," not as a kind of criticism but rather as a strategic evaluation of your abilities. Taking control of that power is more taxing on your body than engaging in a physical conflict. It is necessary for us to strengthen your physical and mental endurance."
On the other hand, Mitsuru was the one who underwent the most significant transformation. Formality is removed from our interactions with one another. Despite the fact that she continued to exercise a firm will over SEES, she communicated with me in a different manner. It was the crucial distinction between a chief executive officer speaking to an employee and a strategist consulting with a valued partner.
Two days after the Full Moon, she summoned me to the command room. The large screen was no longer displaying battle data or Tartarus maps. It showed a complex, multi-layered schematic of energy flows, with a pulsing, dark core at its center—a theoretical model of my power.
She started by saying, "I've been analyzing the data from the bridge," as she stood up from the screen and turned her attention to me. A pile of weighty books was sitting on the desk next to her while she was dressed in her school uniform.
"We are witnessing a paradigm shift as a result of your ability to impose a concept such as 'perseverance.' The Shadow was not directly impacted by your actions. During the conflict, you made a change to the context. You altered the guidelines for how we play the game for us."
She leaned forward, her eyes glimmering with the fervor of intellectual curiosity. "Would you be able to comprehend what that means? There are other uses for this kind of power besides just being defensive or supportive. This technique exemplifies a localized form of reality manipulation. The number of possible applications is truly extraordinary.
Thereafter, the fervor that had been present in her eyes began to fade, and it was replaced by a concern that was more personal. "On the other hand, the physiological and psychological readings that we were able to accumulate... When it came to energy, Kaito, the drain was catastrophic. You have entered potentially hazardous territory with your vital signs. You went beyond what you could have done."
I whispered, "I did what I had to do," and I meant it.
Her response was, "I know," and her tone became more gentle. "As for me, I am... thankful. However, we are unable to rely on a strategy that will exhaust our most valuable asset in a single engagement."
She got up and walked around the desk, eventually coming to a stop a few feet away from me. "When you are out in the field, we will now be monitoring your condition. You are to disengage from the activity if your energy level falls below a predetermined threshold. Indeed, that is a command."
Despite the fact that it was a command, it was encompassed by a layer of protection that I was unaware I required. In addition to protecting me as a weapon, she was also looking out for me as a person.
"Got it," I said.
We were able to maintain a relaxed silence between us. Only the buzzing of the computers could be heard in the room.
"As for the others, they have a different perception of you now," she said.
It was then that I admitted to myself, "I feel different." I paused for a brief moment before continuing, "And you are not just a part; instead, you are more like... No, I am not sure. It is a component of the machine."
Her response was, "You are." An essential component. After some hesitation, she continued by saying, "And not just of SEES."
When our eyes met, the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, becoming warmer and more charged with an unspoken understanding that had been building up ever since the night she had stood in my room before the battle.
The professional disguise had been removed. In its place was a connection that was unfiltered and real.
An alarm beeped from her control panel, ruining the moment. The spell was broken, and we both leaped. Turning around, Mitsuru's fingers swooped across the keyboard. "A burst of energy. Around Tartarus. Different from a shadow... an omission."
A flickering and unstable sector deep within the tower was displayed on the screen as it changed appearance. Our maps did not include this location, so there was a gap in the information.
"It just happened," she said in a businesslike tone. "The pattern is... new to me."
The entity inside me moved, not with fear, but with a strong, focused interest. It saw the distortion. It was a hole in the door. And it was waiting for a key.
The calm that followed was over. The next challenge wasn't a giant from the moon. It was a mystery from the depths, and it was calling me. The game wasn't over yet; the board had just gotten bigger.