“Hmph… they truly are alike!”
Ryouko Kusakabe squinted, her gaze fixed on the boy and the girl standing on the high platform.
The boy’s identity posed no concern; it had been confirmed he was merely an ordinary high school student.
The girl’s identity, however, was a different matter entirely.
She was a Spirit.
A calamity that ravaged worlds, turning this land to scorched earth thirty years ago.
She had ignited a massive fire here just five years prior, akin to the most fearsome plague god.
Yet, here she was, brazenly appearing like an ordinary girl.
And not just one, but two of them had manifested.
“A similarity rate of 98.5 percent,” Ryouko murmured. “This cannot simply be dismissed as a coincidence.”
Observing the seemingly harmless beauty, Ryouko Kusakabe struggled to reconcile her appearance with the formidable power of a Spirit.
“Moreover, the report stated that ‘Princess’ and ‘Succubus’ appeared simultaneously,” Ryouko continued, “but now only ‘Princess’ is within observable range. The ‘Succubus’ is nowhere to be found.”
The predicament left Ryouko Kusakabe with a throbbing headache.
“Sniper permission?”
A voice, calm yet bone-chilling, suddenly pierced the air behind Ryouko.
Without even turning, Ryouko knew the voice belonged unmistakably to Origami Tobiichi.
Clad in the same combat suit and thrusters as Ryouko, Origami gripped a sniper rifle that exceeded her own height.
“…Not yet issued,” Ryouko replied. “The Minister of Defense and the Chief of Staff are still deliberating. We’ve merely been ordered to continue standing by.”
“Is that so?”
Neither reassured nor disheartened, Origami simply nodded serenely.
Ryouko Kusakabe grasped the rationale behind the higher-ups’ hesitation.
After all, this manifestation had not been detected by the spatial quake observation department. No spatial quake alarm had sounded, and the surrounding residents had not evacuated.
In other words, if the Spirits were to lose control now, with all residents still outside the shelters, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Even issuing an alarm now might provoke the Spirits, leading to equally dire outcomes.
It was a dilemma.
However…
“This is a good opportunity,” Origami stated, her voice as calm as ever.
The Spirits currently weren’t wearing their Astral Dresses.
Without their strongest armor, and with the aid of the Realizer Field, eliminating a Spirit was far from impossible.
If they seized the moment, their attack should be able to hit.
Should they fail, however, the wrath of a furious ‘Princess’ would unleash unimaginable devastation.
Furthermore, the actions of the ‘Succubus,’ whose whereabouts remained unknown, were another unpredictable factor.
Moreover, for high-ranking officials, issuing an attack order meant bearing responsibility.
In contrast, pretending ignorance of the Spirits’ manifestation allowed them to deflect blame.
Even if the Spirits caused widespread chaos, they could simply cite “unawareness of the Spirits’ presence.”
The fate of AST members or the potential harm to innocent civilians remained outside the purview of the higher-ups’ concerns.
Fighting Spirits was their duty. The AST only needed to follow orders and fight valiantly; the leaders in the rear had far more to consider.
Just then, a static-laced voice crackled in Ryouko’s ear.
Her eyes widened as she processed the message.
“…Understood!”
Ryouko uttered only that single word before terminating the brief communication.
“…This is truly surprising,” she mused. “They actually issued an attack order.”
Honestly, it was a surprise. Ryouko had fully expected an order to simply remain on standby.
Ryouko’s task was straightforward: delegate the attack mission to the most efficient member of her team.
“Origami, this attack mission falls to you,” Ryouko commanded. “Among the personnel on site, you are the most suitable candidate. Ensure a fatal blow.”
“Understood!”
Origami’s response was devoid of hesitation.
****
“Shido, how does that transform?”
Tohka pointed towards the swiftly approaching train in the distance, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Unfortunately, trains don’t transform!” Shido explained.
“Oh? Do they perhaps combine instead?”
“Well, they certainly can connect to each other,” Shido conceded.
“Oh, oh!”
Tohka seemed to grasp the concept, nodding before spinning around to lean against the railing, facing Shido.
“—Speaking of which!”
Tohka looked up, gazing at the blood-red sun as it slowly descended.
“At least, today has been such a meaningful day for me. I never imagined this world could be so interesting, so gentle, so… beautiful…”
As she spoke, Tohka gradually lowered her head, a somber expression slowly clouding her face.
“Now I understand the AST’s perspective. It turns out every time I descend into this world, I bring such immense destruction.”
“————”
Shido held his breath. That despairing, melancholic expression, the one he detested most, had reappeared on Tohka’s face.
“But… that wasn’t your choice, was it?”
“Mm… neither manifesting nor the phenomena that follow are things I can control.”
“If that’s the case…”
“But the destruction caused to this world is a fact. To the residents of this world, the outcome of that destruction makes no difference. Perhaps I really shouldn’t exist…”
“No, that’s not right!”
Shido roared, his voice filled with urgency.
“There wasn’t a spatial quake today, was there? No robot army attacked you today, was there? Everyone was friendly to you today, weren’t they?”
To infuse his words with conviction, Shido clenched his fists.
“Everyone likes you, don’t they?”
“Really?”
“It’s true! This world doesn’t just hold the hostile AST. There’s me, Qianye, and those people you briefly spent time with. Don’t we all like you, and hope you stay?”
“Yes, I agree with Shido,” Qianye, the reclusive Succubus, also chimed in at that moment.
“See? Everyone supports you staying.”
“But that won’t stop me from being irregularly teleported to this world.”
“Then just don’t go back!”
Shido shouted, and Tohka looked up, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Really? Is there really a way for me to stay?”
“…Have you ever tried? Even just once, you have to try!”
Tohka pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed intently on Shido.
‘Yes, why didn’t I think of it? I just need to stay in this world forever.’
“But, there’s still so much I don’t understand about this world…”
“I can teach you all of that.”
“And I need food and a place to live…”
“I can give you all of that!”
“And there are still many in this world who deny my existence…”
“Then I will deny them a thousandfold, and affirm you a thousandfold.”
After a moment of silence, Tohka parted her lips.
“Can… can I really… live in this world?”
“Yes!”
“Can I truly stay in this world?”
“Absolutely!”
“But what should I do?”
“Like this!”
Shido extended his right hand towards Tohka, shouting aloud.
“You just need to take my hand. For now, that’s all you need to do…”
Tohka remained silent, slowly extending her left hand towards Shido.
Just as their hands were about to touch, something unexpected occurred.
“Tohka, danger!”
“Bang!”
Under the setting sun, the color of blood.