The low murmurs and side complaints of billions seemed to vibrate through the very crust of the planet. No corner of the world was untouched; humanity was trapped, pinned beneath the suffocating weight of Saito's Standz pressure. Some struggled to understand the invisible force crushing them, while others, paralyzed by a primal fear for their lives, simply refused to move. Across every continent, the bustling gears of civilization ground to a halt as people remained frozen—statues of flesh and bone under Saito's absolute domain.
Meanwhile, in the battle arena at the Base of the Seven:
Makoto's teammates stood like iron pillars, their bodies locked in place. Miwafe was doing her absolute best to move, her limbs trembling as she fought to even shift her weight. The internal strain was becoming visible; a thick stream of blood began to run down her nose, dripping onto the cracked pavement.
Spotting this, Raito called out, his own chest heaving as he fought the invisible weight. "Hey, stop it! You'll—"
"Save your breath," Miwafe interrupted, her voice strained and wet. She suddenly buckled, coughing out a spray of blood that splattered across the ground. She wiped her mouth with a shaking hand, her eyes narrowed with grim resolve. "You saw how fast Saito was moving. There is no way Makoto is coming out of this alive... so I need to be ready... just in case."
Yana began to edge toward her, her movements surprisingly fluid compared to the others. She reached out and placed a hand on Miwafe's shoulder. "Listen, Miwafe. I could find a way to block out his Standz pressure when the time comes."
"No," Takumi responded immediately.
"I am the one with the most pressure in the group, right?" Yana challenged, her voice rising.
"You'll still get outclassed," Miwafe countered, coughing again as more blood flecked her lips. "No doubt you might be able to do it, but there's a high possibility you will get killed."
"Please!" Yana's voice suddenly erupted, a raw, piercing sound as tears dropped from her eyes. "For once, let me be useful! I haven't done a single cool thing ever since I got here. I've been useless. Makoto even died protecting me... so please, let me be useful! Just this once, please!"
As her words echoed and then faded, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the group. In that quiet moment, Haruko and Rin exchanged a long, sad glance. They didn't speak, but the look in their eyes said everything—a mixture of heartbreak for Yana's pain and the crushing realization of how desperate their situation had become.
The silence stretched for a few beats more before Raito finally broke it. "When the time is right, Yana... you know what to do."
Yana smiled through her tears and nodded, wiping her face. It was undeniable now—despite the crushing atmosphere, she was moving much more freely than the rest of them.
Back on the battlefield:
Makoto kept his distance from Saito, his lungs burning as he breathed heavily. He was still trying to adjust to what he had just seen—or rather, the terrifying speed that his eyes had been completely unable to track.
How did he just heal?
The thought looped in Makoto's mind, a jagged record skipping over the same impossible fact. Everything he had worked for, every opening he'd bled to create—gone. Saito had simply erased the damage. Is that his Standz ability? But if that's the case, what was that movement earlier? It wasn't just speed; there was no tell-tale thrust, no shift in weight, no blur of motion. It wasn't exactly teleportation either, because for one heart-stopping microsecond, Saito had seemed to exist in two places at once.
Makoto's face was a mask of disbelief, a cold hint of fear creeping into his eyes.
"If you're still trying to analyze me, you're wasting the little time you have left," Saito said, his voice calm, almost bored. "I could end this match whenever I want, but I'm curious. I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Makoto... how exactly do you plan on winning this? Surprise me."
Makoto felt his legs beginning to betray him. His limbs were trembling—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the presence standing before him. He forced his muscles to lock and dragged a smirk onto his face, meeting Saito's gaze.
"I knew your Standz would be impressive," Makoto rasped, "but I didn't realize I was facing someone who could pause time itself."
Saito went silent. His expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued.
"It's the only thing that makes sense," Makoto continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. "It wasn't pure speed. You didn't move through space; you moved through the gaps between seconds. You paused the clock, walked over, and hit 'play' again. I haven't figured out the healing yet, but I can see the truth. You healed the skin, the meat, and the bone... but you didn't heal the stamina. You're just as tired as you were a minute ago. Your wounds closed, but your tank is still running low. If I keep wearing you out... I can win."
Saito let out a short, dry laugh at Makoto's sheer audacity. He began to walk forward, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic, closing the distance until he was inches away. Their faces were so close Makoto could feel the cold radiating off the man.
"The healing isn't a special trick, Makoto," Saito whispered, his voice vibrating in the air. "It's natural. The higher a person's pressure, the faster the body knits itself back together. You're observant, I'll give you that. It's why I haven't killed you yet. But can you honestly say..." Saito leaned in further, his shadow completely swallowing Makoto. "...that you are actually going to win?"
The arena fell into a deathly silence. The wind seemed to stop. The world held its breath.
"I'm scared," Makoto said quietly.
Back at the Base of the Seven, Yana let out a small, broken gasp. She slammed her hand over her mouth, trying to choke back a sob as hot tears spilled over her fingers. "Makoto, no..." she whispered to the empty air, her heart sinking.
But on the battlefield, Makoto didn't flinch. He looked straight into Saito's eyes, refusing to blink.
"I'm trembling. I'm overwhelmed. I am really, truly scared," Makoto repeated, his voice gaining a hard, metallic edge. "But I'm not afraid of you. Never will be. No matter how powerful you get, no matter what gods you have on your side... I don't intend to lose."
Saito searched Makoto's eyes for a flicker of a lie, a hint of hesitation, or a grain of doubt. He found nothing but a stone-cold wall of resolve.
Saito sighed, a sound of genuine disappointment. "A shame."
Slowly, almost gracefully, Saito raised his palm toward Makoto's forehead. He didn't use a flashy move or a shout. He simply moved to end it all in total, crushing silence.
Before the killing blow could land, a violent explosion tore through the space between them. The blast hammered into the earth, cratering the arena and hurling both fighters backward. A wall of superheated wind lashed at the onlookers as Akari shielded his eyes.
"What just happened?" Akari whispered, his voice lost in the roar of the debris.
Saito had twisted mid-air, landing with feline grace. He was unhurt, but his calm expression flickered with genuine surprise.
From the center of the billowing black smoke, a sound emerged that chilled the group to the bone: Makoto was laughing. It was a jagged, psychotic sound that grew louder as the dust settled. He stood in the wreckage, drenched in his own blood—having absorbed the brunt of the blast—yet he looked more alive than ever.
"Oh my God..." Yana breathed, her horror mirrored by the rest of the team.
"You like that, you bastard?" Makoto rasped, his grin widening into something monstrous. "My body is a freaking bomb. You think I'm easy to touch? Try it again and we both go up in flames!"
"What is he talking about?" Raito demanded, his voice shaking. "He's a bomb?"
Takumi's face went pale as a realization struck him. "I think I know... I know what he did."
The team turned to him in a panicked unison. "Takumi, talk to us!"
"Yesterday," Takumi started, his voice hollow. "Makoto made me take him to the vault where we keep Kaito's gadgets. He told me he just wanted to look... I let him in alone."
"What?" Ninda hissed.
"I didn't know he was going to turn himself into a suicide vest!" Takumi snapped defensively, though his eyes remained glued to the battlefield.
The team fell silent, watching in exhausted awe as Makoto—broken, bleeding, and wired to explode—stared down the most powerful man on Earth with the eyes of a madman.