"Clara, don't worry. I got it worse." I straightened up, ignoring the pain stabbing through my body. "Go save your sister."
"And leave you here hurt? No! I'm not going to let others suffer because of me!"
"Tsk, tsk." I clicked my tongue, wagging my index finger side to side. "You've misunderstood something."
"What do you mean?"
"I did this because I wanted to. Not because of you."
"But still—!"
Clara stopped mid-sentence, startled as Puffy lifted her like she weighed nothing.
"Bye\~" I waved lazily as Puffy floated her away.
"We're not done talking!" she shouted, her voice fading with distance.
I turned my gaze back to the porcelain-masked figure. People called her Trina.
"I don't know if you're brave or just stupid for not attacking while I was distracted," I said, drawing in a slow breath from my vape and exhaling smoke.
"Please. You can't possibly defeat me."
"What's with people being so overconfident in their powers? It's getting boring." I sighed.
"You're one to talk." She pointed at me, clearly irritated. "Why don't you just surrender? I know all your tricks, Sunny. Your powers are versatile, sure—unpredictable and clever—but there's a limit."
Smoke coiled around me, forming a sword in one hand and a gun in the other.
"Well, that's true. Tricks do run out… or do they?" I smirked. The air shifted, heavy with malice and a scent like burning gunpowder.
The sword and gun darkened—deep blue edged in violet, golden slits flickering across them like eyes peering from hell.
"What… is that?" Trina's pupils shrank.
"Your death." My killing intent exploded like fireworks.
"That power… You've ascended. But there's been no news of an Honor eating the Fruit of Advancement!"
"I didn't need to."
"You did the Testament. What did you sacrifice?"
"None of your business." I quick draw. She snapped her fingers. The bullet stopped inches from her, frozen in time—along with the very air around it, molecules suspended in place.
"Not that impressive," she muttered, unimpressed.
"You might want to take a deep breath."
"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow, about to speak—
Then the air cracked.
She turned toward the bullet. It hadn't stopped—it blurred.
Reality twisted as our powers collided. Time frayed at the edges. Space bent like wax.
"That thing you froze…" I said. "It blurs reality itself. Warps your perspective, huh?"
Trina stared, unimpressed by my bad pun.
Then everything exploded.
---
I blinked.
And suddenly, I wasn't on the battlefield anymore.
The ground beneath me writhed like living stone. The sky bled purple and gold, spinning in impossible shapes. Buildings stitched together from memory—my school, my home, the ruins from the war—surrounded me.
I moved my hand.
Smoke trailed from my fingertips.
No… not smoke.
Me.
My hand wasn't solid. My arm flickered in and out of form. I looked down—there was nothing. Just a shape, barely clinging to the idea of being.
"This isn't real," I whispered.
But the city around me laughed—not with sound, but with movement. It played tricks, showing me thoughts, fears.
A woman's scream echoed.
Then a child's.
Then mine.
I turned—and saw her.
Trina stood in the center of a broken plaza, unmoving. Time loops circled her like vultures—images blinking in and out. A girl bleeding. Someone begging. Trina screaming. Then silence.
I understood.
She didn't freeze time to control others.
She did it to control herself.
But this field—this collapse of her zone and mine—wasn't just revealing truth.
It was forcing it.
And I was sinking.
I'm not real.
I'm not here.
I'm unraveling.
I tried to hold on. I really did. But my body slipped. My memories floated away like steam—my name, my purpose, the people I'd sworn to protect.
Gone.
So I let go.
Maybe it was easier.
"Sunny."
A voice.
Clear. Steady. Familiar.
Clara.
No… she couldn't be here. Not in this place. Not where reality and time were bleeding together.
I tried to turn, but my neck wasn't there anymore.
Still, I saw her.
Clara walked through the collapse field, fists clenched, eyes wide with fear—but steady.
"You're not disappearing," she said. "You hear me? I see you."
The field responded. It flashed her worst memories—her sister crying, the blood on her hands, the moment she broke down.
She hesitated. Then, with trembling steps, she kept going.
"For everyone who's helped me. For my sister, who's still waiting… I know what I'm afraid of. And that's okay," she said. "That's what courage is. You made me realize that. Your bravery. Your sacrifice for a stranger like me."
She dropped to her knees in front of me. "Thank you," she whispered.
Her palm pressed against where my chest should've been.
"For everything you've done… You mattered. You existed. I'll always remember. You're not alone. You never were."
And I felt it. A pull. A tether. A reason.
Reality, fractured as it was, began stitching itself back together.
My smoke-like form shuddered, held together by her words. By her belief.
The collapse field screamed, rejecting her will. Time flickered. Concepts twisted violently.
Clara didn't flinch.
"I see you," she whispered. "Now come back."
And I did.
Piece by piece, memory by memory—I remembered.
My name. My purpose. My friends. Myself.
A surge of heat burst through the field. Frozen time shattered like glass. Everything collapsed inward, then pulsed outward in a flash of light.
We landed hard.
I gasped like a drowning man breaching the surface. The lab ceiling swam into view. Cold, solid ground anchored me.
Clara lay beside me, chest rising and falling.
"Still alive?" she rasped.
"Barely," I coughed. "But real."
We weren't alone.
I tried to rise, but Clara gripped my shoulder.
"Rest. You were barely holding together."
I nodded weakly. "Trina?"
Her face fell. "Gone. She didn't make it."
I didn't reply. Just stared at the ceiling, feeling the ache of survival.
Emergency lights flickered around us. Reality had returned—but the scars remained.
Clara looked at me. I looked at her. She squeezed my hand.
"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes.
I smiled faintly, "That should be my line."
And in that silence, I knew:
We'd stood at the edge of unreality—and returned. Not because we were strong.
But because we refused to leave each other behind.
---
"Agh…" Calvin groaned in the distance.
I immediately let go of Clara's hand and slowly stood up.
He rubbed his head.
"Thanks for protecting Clara while I was gone."
"Don't mention it. You owe me a PlayZone 5."
"Sure." I chuckled.
Calvin glanced around at the fallen Honors.
"You're amazing," he said, envy in his voice.
"It wasn't just me. You and Clara helped too." I ruffled his hair.
"Stop it!" He shoved my hand away and tried to fix his hair.
"Uncle… after everything that happened, I think I understand why Dad left me with Revenant."
"Why?"
"To protect me."
I grunted in acknowledgment.
"My old man sacrificed his life so I could live again. I didn't ask for that. Isn't that selfish?"
It seemed he'd found answers during the trip to his father's mansion. I figured it out too—how his resurrection worked.
Will's ability to copy memories. Chosen's power to create any tech he imagines. And the mecha.
Together, it made sense.
Will copied memories from Calvin's corpse and transferred them to a vessel. Chosen built the resurrection tech. The mecha ensured it worked. Maybe it even held Igor's soul.
I kept those thoughts to myself.
"But now…" Calvin continued. "I think it's not so bad."
He had accepted it.
"I'm glad you've found peace," I said. "Now let's keep moving—and save her little sister."