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Late into the night—when the world itself seed to fall into restful silence—
Deep beneath the industrial district of Itogami Island, inside a hidden underground lab, a lean, pale-faced researcher stood before an enormous workstation. More than a dozen monitors flickered faintly around him, their screens casting ghostly reflections across his tired features.
From every angle, it looked like the tragic scene of an overworked salaryman grinding through yet another late-night shift.
Suddenly—
The office door slid open with a soft hiss behind him. Light from the corridor outside spilled sharply across the floor, outlining a rectangle of cold brightness.
"Hmm?"
The thin man turned, startled, squinting toward the intrusion.
Two tall, broad-shouldered n in sharp black suits stood imposingly in the doorway, radiating a disciplined, investigative aura.
"Who are—"
"Makimura Yosuke, Lead Researcher of Kanou Chemical Industries' Developnt Division, correct?"
One of the n spoke first, his voice flat and authoritative. It wasn't really a question—more a cop verifying his suspect's identity before an arrest.
"I—I am..."
Taken aback, Makimura instinctively backed up until he bumped into the desk behind him. The solid contact gave him just enough confidence to straighten his spine and confront the newcors, however feebly.
"But who are you two supposed to be? This is a Level Six restricted area—unauthorized personnel are strictly prohibited!"
His implication was obvious—he wanted them gone imdiately.
But the suited n didn't flinch. They stepped into position, calmly blocking the only exit from the cramped office.
Then, quietly and gracefully, a petite silhouette appeared behind them. A tiless gothic lolita ensemble, long midnight-black hair cascading down her back, and an oddly placed parasol opened elegantly indoors...
Only one person in the world dressed like that:
Natsuki Minamiya.
Seeing her step forward, Makimura's expression darkened noticeably.
Natsuki spoke softly, lips barely moving.
"Christoph Gardos—a terrorist affiliated with the Warlord's Empire. Surely you recognize the na. A few days ago, we apprehended one of his subordinates and extracted valuable intel directly from his mind. A piece of friendly advice: if you'd rather not end up drooling permanently like he did, I suggest you cooperate willingly."
"..."
Strangely cryptic words, yet they held a chilling weight. All resistance drained from Makimura's body, his head dropping as if he'd lost all will to fight.
Natsuki tilted her chin ever so slightly upward, signaling the nearest suited operative. Without hesitation, he produced a pair of handcuffs from his jacket and stepped toward Makimura.
But just as he reached forward—
Makimura moved with shocking, explosive speed, his fist slamming brutally into the man's chest, launching him clear across the office with bone-jarring force.
"What the—!?"
The second suited operative, eyes wide, swiftly pulled out his handgun to counter the threat—
But Natsuki raised her delicate parasol to block him gently.
The man glanced at her in confusion—why had the Special Instructor of the Attack Mage Division stopped him?
Then—
"ROAAAR!"
A monstrous howl erupted from Makimura. His previously frail, salaryman-like fra hunched violently forward, the white lab coat shredding apart as muscles surged grotesquely beneath. In monts, his form twisted from human into a monstrous fusion of wolf and bear, a demonic beast lunging ferociously toward the intruders.
"Thought so," Natsuki murmured calmly, unfazed.
"Subdue him. And don't worry about being gentle."
"[Order received. Initiating Rose Fingertip.]"
A familiar, emotionless voice sounded—calm, precise, chanical. A petite, blue-haired figure flashed forward in an instant:
Astarte—the artificial homunculus once saved from the brink of death by Bokue.
Magic flashed within her eyes. An imnse white arm, larger than the beast itself, manifested instantly behind her slender figure. With devastating precision, it swung upward in a crushing uppercut.
The charging monster didn't just halt—it flew, brutally smashed upward into the ceiling with such force that its face caved in, teeth shattered, and bloody fluids mixed with saliva and tears raining grotesquely down.
Barely conscious, Makimura muttered incoherently through mangled lips:
"Why...can a homunculus...use a Familiar...?"
Then, his eyes rolled back, and he fell into rciful unconsciousness.
Silence returned. The previously flung operative staggered to his feet, bruised but fortunately uninjured.
Natsuki yawned softly, elegantly covering her mouth with one hand.
"I'll leave the cleanup to you gentlen. It's late, and I need rest. Report back when you find anything new."
She brushed aside a strand of hair, shaking her head gently.
"So much trouble lately... nothing but late nights. Thank goodness it's sumr break. Astarte, what's your current status?"
"[Command received. Checking system status. Approximately 36 hours since last recharge. Current mana level at 32%. Imdiate recharge strongly recomnded.]"
"Already that low? You burn mana quickly. Let's visit that guy again in a day or two for a refill. For tonight, though, let's wrap it up."
❁❁❁❁
Next morning—
At ho, Bokue's eyes drifted slowly open, waking naturally as always. The clock showed 9:00 AM already.
Sunlight poured brightly through the curtains, and the only sound ca from the air conditioner gently cycling cool air through the room. A faint, lingering fragrance filled the air—a subtle reminder of the girl who'd slept nearby.
He glanced left. The other pillow was empty.
Clearly, Yukina had already gotten up, as usual.
He paused briefly, pretending to weigh options, then lay back down firmly into bed again.
Oversleeping wasn't a bad habit—it was an attitude.
Relaxation? This was the epito of relaxation.
But just as he lay down, a single dark hair on his pillow caught his attention, clearly not his own. Given its length, it undoubtedly belonged to Yukina.
But... hadn't she slept on the other side of the bed?
Why would her hair be all the way over here?
He pinched the delicate strand between thumb and forefinger, holding it up to the sunlight thoughtfully—
And then a troubling mory drifted into his mind.
Last night, vaguely, he rembered feeling like he'd embraced Nagisa, and...
...Was that really just a dream?
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