Rain continued to pour over the city.
BSA Headquarters
Far beneath the Bureau headquarters, inside a secure archive chamber...
Eyemac stood alone. A triangular artifact rested in his palm.
Its frame was forged from dull black metal, etched with countless ancient crimson symbols that pulsed faintly beneath the dim lights.
At its center rested a needle that refused to point north, instead drifting aimlessly as if searching for something that no longer existed.
Eyemac turned it over several times.
"...So this was what they were after." His expression remained unreadable.
Then, after another careful inspection, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"Heh... They really got played."
He tapped the side of the artifact with his finger.
"It isn't even the real one."
They sacrificed one hundred and twelve infiltrators... for a counterfeit.
The fake relic reflected the ceiling lights before falling silent once again.
"...I almost feel bad."
A pause.
"...Almost."
Elsewhere...
The cemetery had become quiet. Only the rain remained.
Hira stood before Aron's grave after Zekai had already left.
For a long moment... he simply stared at the engraved name.
Then he slowly knelt. From inside his coat, he removed a single crimson rose. He placed it gently before the gravestone. The rain immediately soaked its petals.
"...Looks like"
"We all became prisoners of fate." His voice was barely louder than the rain.
"Rest in peace..."
He lowered his head.
"I couldn't protect you either."
For several silent seconds... neither Hira nor the rain moved that moment forward.
"...Goodbye."
"My brother."
Eventually... he stood, turned, and quietly walked away.
---
Meanwhile...
Zekai walked alone through the rain.
He had no destination. No purpose. Only footsteps.
The city lights blurred beneath the falling rain as he wandered along the empty roadside.
His soaked coat clung heavily against his body, yet he never slowed. Inside... everything felt strangely hollow.
His fists tightened inside his pockets.
'I hate myself...'
'Why me...?'
'Why does this keep happening to me?'
'Why him...?'
Hira's words echoed endlessly inside his mind.
"...this is simply fate."
"...Fate." Zekai laughed quietly. It wasn't amusement—only bitterness.
Without realizing it... his feet carried him back toward the same intersection.
The same crossing. The same place where everything had begun.
The pedestrian signal was still red. Vehicles rushed past from every direction, their headlights streaking through the rain like white blades.
People waited patiently for the signal to change.
Zekai didn't. He stepped forward, ignoring every passing vehicle, ignoring every warning, ignoring the world itself.
Rain rolled down his face.
"...No." His voice was calm.
"...This wasn't fate." His eyes slowly narrowed.
"This... was my curse."
At that moment... the Fool Authority responded. Reality bent.
Without anyone noticing...
Zekai's presence slipped between countless lines of sight.
Drivers looked straight ahead... yet none of them truly saw him.
Pedestrians stood only a few meters away... yet their eyes passed over him as though he had never been there.
Like a fool disappearing in plain sight.
Like reality itself had forgotten to acknowledge him.
Zekai continued walking through the traffic.
The Fool did not make him invisible. It simply convinced reality that acknowledging him wasn't worth the effort.
Not a single car touched him. Not because they avoided him.
Because... somehow... they simply never reached him.
"As far as I'm concerned... Fate died a long time ago."
The traffic lights changed from red to green.
The city continued moving forward.
Only Zekai refused to.
He kept walking, never once looking back.
---
Back at the cemetery...
The rain gradually eased.
A gentle breeze drifted across Aron's grave.
The bouquet resting before the headstone trembled softly.
Then—the wind grew stronger. Loose petals scattered across the wet grass. One flower slid aside, revealing another bouquet hidden behind the gravestone.
Older. Already soaked by the rain. It hadn't been placed there recently. Someone had left it earlier... without wanting anyone to know.
Carved discreetly into the back of the gravestone... almost invisible beneath the moss... was a single engraved letter.
'H'
Silence answered it.
Only the wind remained, as if someone had already visited... long before everyone else.
---
Meanwhile...
Far away, beneath the clear afternoon sky of the Sanctum Grace (Holy Capital), an old man walked alone through the crowded streets.
His steps were slow. Unsteady.
Dried blood stained the corner of his mouth, while patches of dirt and ash clung stubbornly to his worn coat.
Marcus. He kept his head lowered as pedestrians brushed past him without paying him any attention.
Then—a burst of voices erupted from ahead.
"They're showing it again!"
"How can people just fall from the sky?!"
"There were so many bodies!"
"The whole country's talking about it!"
Marcus stopped. His heart skipped a beat. Almost instinctively, he followed the crowd gathered outside an electronics shop.
He hadn't watched the news in days.
Something else had kept him constantly on the move.
This was the first time he'd stopped long enough to look.
Dozens of people stood before the large display window, watching the televisions inside.
Every screen showed the same emergency news broadcast.
Blurry footage.
A young man falling from the sky. Behind him—forty-three lifeless bodies.
Marcus frowned.
"...No..."
The camera quality was poor. The young man's face was too blurred to identify.
He leaned closer. His tired eyes searched desperately through the distorted image.
Then fate offered him a single frame.
The broadcast froze for a fraction of a second.
The young man's arm swung into view.
Marcus's pupils contracted.
Across the back of the hand... a broad X-shaped scar.
His hands began trembling before his mind even accepted what his eyes had seen.
His breathing stopped.
He knew that scar better than his own reflection.
"...Zekai..." His lips trembled.
"...No."
"...No... this shouldn't have happened."
His face turned completely pale.
"...I was too late..."
A cold sensation crept across his spine. The feeling was unmistakable.
Someone was watching him.
Marcus slowly lifted his head.
Across the road... someone stood perfectly still beneath the streetlights.
Watching him.
The figure's face remained completely hidden by the rain and the passing traffic.
Only one thing was visible beneath the afternoon light.
A quiet smile. As though it had been waiting for Marcus to notice it.
Marcus's eyes widened.
"...You..."
The heavy traffic surged between them. When the vehicles finally passed—the stranger was gone.
Not a single person nearby seemed to have noticed anyone standing there.
✦ End of Chapter 50 — The Echoes of Fate ✦