"I'm the same kind of failure as you, you know."
Aldebaran would never forget the languid expression on the
He had thought about it.
That even the Witch—who wore a face as though she knew every principle governing this world, who had extended roots of knowledge to every corner of existence, who carried herself with an air of omniscience—could have moments where she lamented her own inadequacy.
"Of course I do. When it comes down to it, your existence... the fact that you're here like this—it's practically proof of what I lack."
Hearing that, Aldebaran's feelings were complicated.
For Aldebaran, this Witch's existence was enormous, and—though he'd rather not say it—magnificent. There weren't many points of comparison, but she'd feel vast no matter what you measured her against.
To hear such a Witch call herself a failure was not a pleasant thing.
Yet, were it not for that self-awareness of her own shortcomings, his current relationship with the Witch would never have existed. If she'd been the kind of person who never had to acknowledge her own inadequacy— "In that case, both you and I would simply have remained where we were meant to be. It's free to imagine a future that didn't come to pass, but unfortunately, you drew the worst possible lot. I'm sorry to say, but for me, it was something of a stroke of luck."
In that mock-villainous phrasing, there seemed to be an equal mixture of the Witch's own brand of humor and her own honest feelings. He couldn't be certain, though.
The Witch always claimed she couldn't understand other people's hearts, and even Aldebaran, who'd known her for so long, found her true feelings vague and elusive.
But if the Witch's words were correct, then it was a strange thing.
After all, this current situation was supposedly the worst possible outcome for Aldebaran, and yet he didn't think of his days with the Witch as unhappy.
True, he'd been subjected to dying a million times under the guise of trials, had his name called by an unwanted name despite his protests, and lived in an environment far removed from ordinary happiness— "To find value in life with a good-for-nothing Witch—you're a pitiful one too, you know."
That was a self-deprecating remark, but also very much a dig at the other. A complex muttering.
But Aldebaran didn't miss the gentle undertone that couldn't quite be hidden within it.
Even if it was small, even if it was easy to overlook, even if it was hard to read—the Witch did have genuine emotions. Finding traces that served as proof of that belief was Aldebaran's hobby.
He didn't know how things really stood. It might all be nothing more than self-delusion or a misunderstanding.
What mattered was how Aldebaran felt. The Witch's true intentions belonged to the Witch. —Aldebaran's truth belonged to Aldebaran.
"That ability to cut through things so cleanly suits you well. As I thought, influence is something you really can't underestimate."
Narrowing her dark eyes and idly toying with her white bangs, the Witch spoke those words.
It was a soliloquy delivered while gazing at someone reflected through Aldebaran, and at herself reflected in his eyes.
Influence—of course there would be some. In birth, in upbringing.
For Aldebaran. For the Witch.
Inadequate, insufficient, incomplete. —Was that a shameful past for the Witch?
Was it a curse to think that because she'd been that way, his days with the Witch existed?
If there was one thing he could say— "—Aldebaran."
In the scene they'd known for ten years on his part and four hundred on hers, when they reunited—when what he saw before him was the Witch of Greed, whose appearance that day seemed to deny the inadequacy she'd spoken of—what Aldebaran experienced was an unbearable sense of loss and despair.
△▼△▼△▼△ —Clicking and clacking, toying with the fittings of his black helm with his fingers, Aldebaran surveyed the situation.
Before him, a group had assembled in formation around an enormous ice anchor of almost divine majesty, using it as their rallying point, and were boldly confronting him.
The group was led by Firloré—no,
He didn't need to ask to know. —Roy and Heinkel had been defeated.
He didn't believe that even "Aldebaran" had lost, but with "the Dragon" not rushing to the scene, it seemed even "Aldebaran" had somehow been held in check.
Honestly, to have defeated the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony despite two constraints—the Authority and the prohibition against killing—and to have prepared countermeasures against the Divine Dragon as well—this exceeded his expectations.
What kind of strategy had they prepared? He could ask, but he doubted he'd get an answer— × × × —Two hundred and forty-six.
"—This is way too much preparation with Witch Factors, Petra."
"!"
At Aldebaran's direct accusation, tension shot through Felt and the others.
The one whose cheeks stiffened the most was, of course, Petra herself—the person whose name had been called. For them, Petra's Authority was their trump card, supposed to be top secret.
In truth, that policy had been thoroughly shared among all the members.
But no matter how iron-willed a person might be, no one could remain completely unmoved by a sudden thrust.
At Aldebaran's question, everyone tried to maintain their expressions and composure, but the slightest shift in gaze or attention was enough for him to trace the source of that reaction back repeatedly. As a result, what he found standing there, valiant and conspicuous at the end of those subtle responses, was exactly the answer he wanted. —He was genuinely shocked to learn it was Petra, of all people, who had taken in the Witch Factor.
"In my calculations, there was no way either Petra or Meili—who read that thing—would be returning to the front lines."
After imprisoning
That wasn't just because there was no need to eliminate them—it was a calculated move, made with an eye toward what came after.
To hold Reinhard in place, the manifestation of the Witch of Envy was absolutely necessary.
And to trigger that manifestation, someone was needed to read Natsuki Subaru's "Book of the Dead." Aldebaran had chosen Petra and the others for that role. In the event, the fight between Aldebaran and Reinhard had reached a stalemate thanks to the Witch of Envy's intervention, and the plan's greatest obstacle had been successfully eliminated.
But— "...It's hard enough just reading someone else's Book of the Dead without going insane, and yet you're telling me she endured Natsuki Subaru's?"
There was precedent. —Aldebaran himself had more reason to know than anyone, but that was precisely why he couldn't believe someone else could do the same, given the absolute nature of "death."
In some cases, Natsuki Subaru's "Book of the Dead" could serve as a trump card for defeating even superior opponents—a special-class cursed artifact. It was inconceivable that anyone could read it without having their mind broken.
"...Then again, looking down on others is one of my bad habits."
Regardless of what Aldebaran thought, the fact was that Petra was standing here.
Not only had she avoided having her mind shattered by the shock of reading the "Book of the Dead," but she had even gone so far as to take the monstrous step of housing a Witch Factor within herself to stop Aldebaran. Or perhaps it was the experience of reading the "Book of the Dead" that had pushed Petra to such extremes.
*'—No one can beat the you that I created.'* The Witch's words, flashing through his mind, were meant to spur Aldebaran on—not to feed his pride, not to make him complacent and trip himself up.
If he mistook their meaning, this time he would truly lose the Witch. —The Witch who had truly possessed a heart, who had become nothing but the Witch of Greed, he would lose her for good this time.
"—In the end, you can't just leave your fate to someone else."
The sentiment that had pierced his heart—Aldebaran took a deep breath and pushed it deep into his chest, then turned his gaze forward.
The enemy was strong, the obstacles many, he had no allies, no one to boast to—yet, he'd decided to go.
In that instant— "—Oraaagh!!"
—a furious golden tiger's iron fist smashed savagely into Aldebaran's skull.
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to celebrate a single joyous occasion for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ —Sixty-one in total.
This was the full and genuine combined force of the "Aldebaran-ters"—
Petra couldn't help but feel both gratitude and admiration that so many had remained after being hastily reorganized with no time to breathe following that brutal fight. But that didn't mean she was disparaging those who couldn't keep up with the restructured team.
*'Otto and Meili—neither of them can be pushed any further.'* As Imaginary Subaru said, both Otto and Meili had been key players in the fight against Gluttony. But Otto, whose memories had been devoured, and Meili, who had burned through too many blessings stopping the
And it wasn't just them. Those whose spirits had been ground to the limit by Roy's trump card—the Authority of Gluttony, which forced them to relive past pain—were in the same state. Unlike physical wounds, mental erosion couldn't be easily recovered from, even with Petra's "Compress." Though Meili had continued to insist she could "compress" her recovery time and return to the front lines— "Borrowing time from your own life won't make Subaru happy, you know?"
It was Petra who had convinced her to reluctantly—truly reluctantly—accept her withdrawal.
Honestly, Petra's maiden circuits had caught on the odd note in Meili agreeing to be persuaded by using Subaru as leverage, but since she was the one who'd done it, she didn't dwell on it.
Besides, Petra had another role—keeping watch for the Black Serpent that Gluttony had attracted and that had disappeared after the fight. She felt bad that she couldn't grant them full rest.
*'All you can do is fill the gaps with whoever can do the job. Though even with their memories gone, there are some crazy ones who'd still wade into the thick of it.'* "Isn't it amazing? That even without his memories, Otto is still like that?"
*'Must be his nature. Maybe he's a risk junkie.'* If the person in question heard these musings—made regardless of whether memories existed or not—he'd probably come back with "Would you mind not saying such unflattering things about me!?"—but honestly, it couldn't be helped.
Either way, Gluttony had successfully whittled down their precious fighting strength, leaving their hand for the climax battle painfully thin. Garfiel's return was welcome, but the fact that he couldn't give his all for Emilia and
But even so— "—We'll win this, Subaru."
*'Yeah. Let's go win. So none of what we've built up until now goes to waste.'* △▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to share my dreams with anyone for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—In the end, you can't just leave your fate to someone else."
Al delivered those words with a resigned tone but a voice brimming with resolve—and that became the signal.
"—Oraaagh!!"
Leading the charge as the vanguard with a roar, Garfiel surged forward, and the "Aldebaran-ters" moved as one.
Watching them close in, Petra clenched both fists tight against her chest.
—Using the ice anchor Emilia had driven into the ground as a marker, Petra "Compressed" the distance between the Aldebaran-ters and the location, then stood before Al once more.
Honestly, the fact that Emilia and Rem weren't present, and that Al's kunoichi attendant—who had been dragged along outside the plan—was nowhere to be found, was undeniably a source of anxiety.
*'There's no reason for Al to lift his no-killing constraint.'* Relying on that as a safety net meant placing perhaps too much trust in the opponent's abilities and convictions.
But when considering how Al had fought up until now, with his Authority of "Time Regression"—that was grounds enough. His Authority was so powerful that, in a sense, Al had been allowed to get away with playing it loose up until now.
And that premise hadn't fundamentally changed, even now that they'd separated him from his allies.
"Gaguh—"
Straight ahead, Garfiel, who'd lunged in without any preliminary movement, let out a pained grunt.
The reason was the trajectory of his leap and the stone slab that materialized in his path. A slab, placed in anticipation of his opening attack, struck him square in the face, sending Garfiel's body flipping through the air. Slipping beneath the airborne Garfiel, Al moved to intercept the forces that followed the golden tiger.
Next came
*'What a coincidence—it's the pink-haired sisters! Now, what'll happen?!'* △▼△▼△▼△ —Thirty-seven.
The stone slab struck down Garfiel's initial charge, flipping him backward in midair, and Al slipped beneath him.
The timing was unexpectedly tight. If he inserted the stone slab too early, Garfiel would swat it aside; too late, and he'd sail right past. The instant it connected with Garfiel's face, Al committed the sensation to memory—and put it into practice.
"Gaguh—"
With the pained grunt echoing behind him, Aldebaran faced forward as shadows converged on him from three directions.
From the left and right came Flam and her sister, while from slightly above came Ram—the three striking in perfect coordination. The precision of the twins' tandem was extraordinary on its own, and the fact that Ram could match it on first encounter only highlighted how abnormal she was.
To top it off— "—Little Miss Rem is crumpled up against the cliff behind you."
"She isn't. Don't underestimate the sisterly love between Ram and Rem."
The venom in those words was neutralized by the sisters' shared synesthesia, and had no effect.
Since Ram wasn't rattled, there was no lie in her statement. What that implied—that Rem was safe, and that Yae's condition was unknown—registered, and the poison actually worked in their favor instead.
However— "—Earth Brand Arts."
Drawing on mana returned from the connection with "the Dragon," stone blades erupted from the ground, surrounding Aldebaran. To dodge the sword tips and spear points bursting from the earth one after another, the twins threw themselves into wide evasive maneuvers, creating a momentary gap that shifted the three-pronged assault into a solo attack by Ram.
Into that now-isolated Ram, Al slammed down the stone dragon blade he'd scooped up from the flow of battle— "—I'll take that."
Ram swung the blade she'd scooped up with wind magic—but was struck from the side, her jaw shattered by the blow.
× × × —Ninety-one.
"—I'll take that—actually, never mind."
With those words, Ram let the stone sword drawn by wind slip past her, the blade crumbling as it passed—and into the opening where she'd failed to grab a weapon, Aldebaran's strike sank in.
Ram caught it with her wind-wreathed staff, skillfully manipulating the wind to generate pressure while still airborne, trying to force her way through the clash. Aldebaran seized her leg with his rock prosthetic arm and, even as wind blades cut back at him, hurled her behind him.
"—!"
With Ram's gritted teeth echoing at his back, Aldebaran pressed further forward. The twins—Flam and Grasis—whom he'd fallen behind due to the earlier disruption, attacked in unison.
Matching the agility that made their youth a dangerous thing to underestimate, Aldebaran spread both his right arm and his artificial left arm wide, then unleashed a tidal wave of sand that swept a hundred and eighty degrees across his field of vision.
The undulating mass of sand engulfed the girls, turning into a cage that sank them into the earth— "—Six of Shadows, Warrior! Five of Wind, Mage! Eight of Flowers, King!"
A sudden surge of force struck him head-on, and he tumbled backward into the sea of blades he'd created.
× × × —One hundred and twelve.
"—Six of Shadows, Warrior! Five of Wind, Mage! Eight of Flowers, King!"
The instant he heard it, Al forced his outstretched arms together, fixing the maw of his sand tide forward—directly into the path of the burly, bearded man who had materialized after the briefest blink, who was engulfed by the tide and sent into the same situation as Flam and Grasis.
Having escaped that, Al launched himself diagonally upward, attempting to vault over the enemy forces— "Ur Goar!!"
While still airborne, he was struck by an inescapable fireball, and his internal organs erupted in flames.
× × × —One hundred and forty-six.
"Ur Goar!!"
With the twins and the large man pinned by sand, Al deliberately hung back a step against the incoming fireball. In his place, the one struck directly by the flames was a crudely made clay figure that Al had hastily constructed—a degraded magical replica of Emilia's ice recreation of Natsuki Subaru.
The fireball, aimed at suppressing Al's head as he lunged forward, was perfectly absorbed by the shoddy clay figure in the split-second judgment the battle demanded.
"What!?"
His user—a thin-faced man with bad eyes and a protruding tongue—gasped at Aldebaran's response.
Unless you were a master mage, you couldn't fire off Ulga-class magic in rapid succession. Aldebaran raised his middle finger at the man's astonished expression, and this time truly pressed forward— "—Get wrecked!!"
From diagonally behind, a shockwave of light launched from that position struck Aldebaran's back dead-on, and the world-searing brilliance of the white light painted even his consciousness white.
× × × —One hundred and forty-seven.
"—Get wrecked!!"
He turned toward the source of that spirited battle cry, and Aldebaran saw that the culprit was Felt—her face fierce beneath a grin of fangs, the light emanating from the staff gripped in her hand.
It was a "
"Getting stopped by the teacher here—how buggy can you get?"
That long, unending series of challenges ahead—the wall that must be overcome—had been pointed out to him by no one other than the Witch, who was the very creator of it all, and a gloomy feeling took root.
And then, the white light swallowed Aldebaran without mercy.
Well then— × × × —One hundred and forty-eight.
"—Get wrecked!!"
—This approaching white light. How on earth was he supposed to get past it?
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to give anyone a gift for as long as I live.
× × × "—What kind of power is the Authority of 'Melancholy,' exactly?"
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to wave goodbye to anyone for as long as I live.
× × × "—A simple warp doesn't explain it. An Authority shouldn't be something that works like that."
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to pray before sleep for as long as I live.
× × × "—It must represent some kind of concept. Right? 'Melancholy'... Melancholy."
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to comfort anyone's wounds for as long as I live.
× × × "—Feeling down. Blue. Overcast. Depressed. Deflated. ...Deflated?"
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to rejoice in clear skies for as long as I live.
× × × "—It's crushing the gaps, isn't it? The space and the distance. No, it's crushing more than just that?"
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to lament rainy skies for as long as I live.
× × × "—It's compressing the thinking time I need and filling it in? But Witch Factors aren't..."
△▼△▼△▼△ —God, Buddha, Od Laguna — I vow never to gaze at a rainbow with anyone for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—Witch Factors can't be that convenient, can they?"
In that instant, as the words of Al—who had broken through the Aldebaran-ters' encirclement and pressed all the way to her front—reached her, a chill raced up Petra's spine.
She couldn't see Al's eyes behind his iron helm. —But their gazes had met. The certainty of that made her feel as though her innermost thoughts had been seen through, and Petra's heart began to race with alarm.
Al knew more about Witch Factors than Petra did—and she didn't know how he'd figured that out.
*'Petra!!'* "—Eight of Flowers, Witch!!"
"!"
The hoarse, desperate command and the cry of her beloved from within overlapped, and Petra "Compressed" the hesitation born inside her—slipping free of Al's reaching arm without letting him grab her, creating distance between them—and "Compressed" that entire process, retreating in an instant.
"Hey, hey—you can't even compress your own gaps...?!"
Petra vanished from right in front of his eyes, and Al clicked his tongue as he turned around, his swing passing through empty air.
Heaving his shoulders, Al and Petra had reset their distance once again. Between the two glared opponents stood the comrades of the "Aldebaran-ters" whom Al had fought desperately to break through. To reach Petra once more, he would have to clear the same hurdles all over again.
But Petra felt no sense of satisfaction whatsoever.
*'Petra, what Al said earlier...'* "I know. ...He really can start over, can't he."
At the words of Imaginary Subaru hovering beside her, Petra narrowed her eyes and nodded.
She hadn't been in doubt, but actually witnessing Al's "Time Regression" in action, she couldn't help but be stunned by how far beyond the norm it was.
Garfiel's preemptive strike, Ram and the Flam & Grasis sisters' coordinated attack, the three-pronged assault by
And he'd done it by finding the one and only optimal solution for each situation.
*'I could probably produce similar results by compressing my own thoughts...'* "That's only because you're racking your brain until you find the right answer. The power you and Al have, Subaru... it's a little different, isn't it?"
*'...If things were normal, I should be this strong too.'* 'Subaru' scratched his head and drooped in disappointment. But Petra didn't think so.
Subaru was Subaru. He had faced his own Authority head-on and held together so much that should have been lost, saving Petra and the others. There was not a single thing about him to call inadequate.
And yet— "...How many times did you redo things before you could reach out your hand toward me?"
As far as Petra knew, Al's ability as a warrior was middling—nowhere near Ram or Garfiel, and probably not a match for Heinkel either. Yet Al had single-handedly toyed with the entire "Aldebaran-ters" and nearly put them in check.
*'Not just ten times—maybe twenty, even.'* "...Maybe even more than that."
At 'Subaru's' gentle estimate, Petra predicted ten or twenty times that number.
In truth, if Petra were the one trying to outmaneuver the "Aldebaran-ters," even with an Authority that let her know what came next, she wasn't confident she could clear it in a hundred attempts. What's more, Al had borrowed "the Dragon's" power, and he had a track record of even dodging Reinhard.
How far could a person kill their own heart to mount such an endeavor?
If Al's "Time Regression" truly was, as Petra and the others imagined, a power exchanged for "death"—as it was for Natsuki Subaru—then what stood before them was a terrifying "Demon" who merely pretended to be frivolous.
Al had already overcome—the fear of "death" and the sense of loss. No, there was no human who could truly overcome that. To put it another way, it wasn't an overcoming. It was numbness.
A being who had numbed even the primal instinct to fear death and avoid it—that was the secret of Al's strength, and the key to his absoluteness as a "Demon."
To surpass that absoluteness, they too would have to pay an equal price.
*'—Petra.'* "It's okay, Subaru. ...I'll be fine."
The presence residing inside her head.
The one and only person—Imaginary Subaru—to whom Petra's secret, which none of the "Aldebaran-ters" nor anyone in Emilia's faction knew, had been revealed.
And it was something the "Demon" before her—the one well-versed in Witch Factors—had also spoken of.
—The one who calls herself the "Witch of Melancholy" will not be greeted by a convenient fate.
"But even so, that's no reason for me to stop."
Deceiving even herself with those words,
In exchange for interfering with the laws of the world, the future she would lose from her own existence—no matter how precious, no matter how irreplaceable—there was no hesitation in the new "Witch."
△▼△▼△▼△ —Seven thousand and eleven.
"Even so, that's no reason for me to stop."
Seeing Petra's lips form those words from a distance, Aldebaran tipped his hat—metaphorically, at least. He didn't actually remove his helm, but the sentiment was there.
Because, well.
"...I really can't forgive Natsuki Subaru."
Gritting his teeth, Aldebaran reflected on the mixed coalition up to this point—they called themselves the "Aldebaran-ters." He had to admit, the naming sense was something. He didn't want to think too hard about where it came from.
In any case, through the back-and-forth with the "Aldebaran-ters" thus far, he had unraveled most of the Witch Factor of Melancholy that Petra had taken in, and the specifications of its Authority.
In any fight, this was critical—gathering as much accurate information about your opponent as possible.
This was especially true when fighting Sin Archbishops or Witches. If you faced them without grasping what kind of Authority they possessed, being killed without a chance to fight back was commonplace. —The ability to break through that first-kill surprise was precisely what made Aldebaran and Natsuki Subaru strong.
Having demonstrated that strength to its fullest, Aldebaran had determined the Authority of Melancholy to be—ridiculously powerful. The ability to crush gaps and time—to "Compress" them—was unmatched in both application and sheer nuisance value.
On top of that, this Authority apparently even allowed the compression of thought itself. Even within a single second of combat, thoroughly reasoned and refined conclusions came surging one after another. This was a problem that even Aldebaran's "Domain" couldn't easily unravel.
In truth, it had taken over seven thousand retries to slip through just eleven seconds of combat.
And after all that, he'd still let Petra escape. —Given that the same distance had been reopened, he would need the same or greater number of attempts to catch up again.
"Even so, the Authority of 'Melancholy' and Varga's compatibility is the worst..."
Among the "Aldebaran-ters," there was also Varga Cromwell, who had tormented him thoroughly.
That monster of strategy, who made no use of his imposing physique, was given unlimited free thinking time and used it to produce the one and only optimal solution, pressing Aldebaran into a corner.
It was, quite literally, the nightmare combination of giving a demon a steel club.
If he fell into Varga's hands again, there was a real risk of being sealed off once more. Therefore, even if thinking time was forcibly taken from him, he couldn't afford to give them too many chances to experiment.
Moreover, letting them continue using the Authority of Melancholy wasn't in Aldebaran's interest either.
Because— *'—The Witch Factor of Melancholy is defective. It's a one-of-a-kind piece prepared for the hero, incompatible with anyone else. Put another way, it could be said to become compatible with anyone who pays the price. Humans are creatures who can sacrifice far too much of themselves in exchange for resolve.'* Information he'd once heard from the Witch—about the Witch Factor of Melancholy.
Whether it was because she had her own strong feelings about it, the Witch had been reluctant to say much about what might be called the two "extra" Witch Factors, but having been worn down, her explanation had been surprisingly verbose.
Boiled down, the key points were these: —The Witch Factor of Melancholy activates its Authority in exchange for the bearer's will.
—The price of using the Witch Factor of Melancholy can only be paid by the bearer.
"—Natsuki Subaru."
Having reached that point in his reasoning, Aldebaran once again felt a surge of anger toward Natsuki Subaru.
Of course, Aldebaran didn't think his own plan—the one that led to Petra taking in the Witch Factor of Melancholy, by having her read the "Book of the Dead"—was unrelated. But if Aldebaran had created the spark, a significant portion of the responsibility lay with Natsuki Subaru.
Given the relationship between Aldebaran and Natsuki Subaru, that much was only fair.
The great shadow that had fallen over Petra's life originated with Natsuki Subaru. He didn't say—nor did he think—that Subaru had any malice in it, but his influence was immeasurably great. It wasn't limited to Petra alone—it was a force, a kind of destiny, that had manifested across many situations before this battle, across the "Aldebaran-ters" and beyond.
"—C" Even so, destiny was an ironic thing. No one was better positioned to say they hated destiny more than Natsuki Subaru and Aldebaran themselves.
"—o" And yet, their actions could almost be said to determine fate.
"—m" When he thought that, what flashed through Aldebaran's mind were her words—vivid and brilliant.
"—p" The praise she had uttered in their final moments threatened to burn his heart. He averted his eyes, plugged his ears.
"—r" There was no longer time to reflect on his own actions. What sustained the current Aldebaran wasn't the her he had lost, but his promise to his teacher.
"—e" What Aldebaran had been born for, what he was meant to do as Aldebaran—its culmination was about to be tested. He couldn't afford to stop and think— "—s" Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Wasn't this too long? The fight should have resumed in the space of a single breath, a single deep inhalation.
"—A" That was how it should be. The opponent