"Where are those three now?"
"I left them at the retrieval camp. I figured it was best to kill the Shadowbeast myself and keep them safe. Far away from all this."
"Well, you're right about it being a cycle rather than a loop. It's a recurrence of inevitable events. What confuses me is why Rita would do something like this."
"Wait… you actually believe me about Rita?"
"It's the most plausible explanation for this zone. The spire alone has no reason to expend so much of its potential energy to construct something like this. Not unless they've begun assimilating."
"Assimilating?"
Blue still wasn't fully caught up on the nature of the creature they'd faced that night, but from what Cosmo had told her, its primary motive had always been to capture Rita.
But if they were truly merging… then perhaps this zone wasn't born solely from Rita's will.
Maybe she was being influenced.
"I… don't want to hate her for this. I don't even want to be angry. I just want to save her, too."
"Oh, that won't do. She's going to have to answer for this."
"But I'm fine. Could you please take my feelings into account this time?"
He studied her for a moment, then abruptly stepped forward.
Without warning, he flicked her forehead.
FWINK!
Instantly, dozens of blades erupted around him, all converging on the same point, intersecting in an attempt to impale him.
He twisted his body in impossible, contorted motions until the barrage ceased. By the end, he was encased in a red steel structure, something like a warped monument.
Her eyes had gone cold and vacant, stripped of will.
Then, after a heartbeat, color returned to them, and she jolted in horror.
"Ah, Captain! I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me!"
She paced around the steel formation, panicked and unsure how to help, until it began to crumble on its own.
"You're 'fine,' huh?" he muttered as his body finally relaxed from its strained position.
"I didn't…"
"Of course you didn't. Cases like this aren't uncommon for an officer. The only unusual part is the circumstances that put you here."
"Does it happen often?"
"You'd be surprised by what the average officer encounters. When it comes to time loops, most retire immediately afterward, but by then, the damage to their psyche is already irreversible. Others aren't lucky enough to even make it out. Their minds die long before they're rescued. It must have been hell for you. Good job surviving as long as you did."
Her breath hitched. She stared at the ground, whether from embarrassment or acknowledgment, he couldn't tell.
"And that's why I can't accept you forgiving her so easily. If you insist on doing so, then there's one thing you'll have to promise me."
"Captain–"
A violent gust tore past them, forcing her to shield her face as the walls behind them shattered.
"One second," Cosmo sighed, then turned toward the ongoing battle that had raged throughout their entire conversation. "Hey, Yon! Watch where you're firing that thing!"
"Wait, that was Yon?"
A flash of wind had carved through the terrain. She didn't remember Yon having anything like that.
"Sorry, Captain! We can't break through!" Yon shouted as he dodged an attack that would've flattened him and the ground beneath.
Another force suddenly dragged him downward, another strike incoming.
Before it hit, a golden chain snagged his arm and yanked him out of range.
"Thanks."
"Try not to get so close. Leave that to our reckless torch."
"Don't you start that too, Red!"
Tyson snarled as he unleashed a flurry of blows against the armored man.
Normally, anything near him shattered, but Tyson's arms were coated in a strange, incandescent mold of flame, igniting violently with every impact.
Yet every strike against the mysterious barrier surrounding the man did nothing. It felt as though his arms were being diverted, pushed off their intended path.
"It's a simulation of tidal force," Red observed. "He's manipulating gravity around himself. The closer anything gets, the more it's torn apart."
Tyson finally noticed the trajectory of his scattered flames. They orbited the man briefly before being snuffed out.
"If that's how it works… then breaking through it has my name written all over it," Yon muttered, stepping back into the fray.
He settled into a steady stance, hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, and exhaled.
"Tyson, I need an opening."
"I've got it!"
Immediately, Tyson was caught in a crushing gravitational field that hurled him skyward before pulling him downward.
There was no escaping once the field was activated, and the drop would likely destroy him.
"About that flamethrower game of yours, I need you to drag it out and trash it."
"That's fine, but I'm still a caster. What's the alternative?"
"There is none. I want you to double down on that ferocity of yours. Reshape your authority from the ground up. And the only way to do that is…"
"Don't tell me, you're going to make me establish a covenant?"
"Affirmative. And that's for two out of the three of you."
"That's impossible. A covenant isn't something you just choose. It takes years with a set perspective, or a monumental shift at a pivotal moment."
"True, but you did hear me say we're going to cheat, right?"
"…What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing and all. Sure, it's immoral, inadvisable, and absolutely terrible for the long run. But it's our only shot at saving your friends, especially with a spire in our way. So you'll have to deal with it."
"Burn… and make ash of my blood."
Tyson clasped his flaming gauntlets together, and they flared like a miniature sun.
This is me. And this is my step toward a future where no one I care about suffers again.
By my authority, nothing I do not decree shall burn. And my destruction shall be bound to my will.
"Hyper-Flare: Erosion!"
His palms struck the ground first. Explosions rippled outward, breaking his fall and eroding a path through the crushing pressure until he forced his way out of the radius.
From the smoke and debris, he surged toward the armored man.
"Helix Lancer."
Flame spiraled into the shape of a winding spear, crashing against the barrier once more.
It bore forward relentlessly until his weight suddenly pitched ahead.
It looked like he'd broken through. But he wasn't naïve enough to believe that.
Especially as his body hurtled straight toward the man's outstretched arm.
The armored man drew back his free hand, ready to drive it against Tyson with lethal force as the boy was pulled toward him.
Yet Tyson didn't even attempt to block. He didn't need to, because the threat had suddenly been restrained.
"Like that's happening."
Despite his tidal force still raging, several golden chains had coiled around the armored man. Stranger still, they seemed anchored to nothing but the very air itself.
"Why did you start calling me a genius?"
"Is it strange?"
"Obviously. I mean, I wouldn't mind a little favoritism, but you're never that straightforward."
"Well, labels can be lies we tell to pretend our ideals are realized for one reason or another. But when used properly, they can act as subtle hints when no guiding words come to mind. And you're not the only one I call a genius."
"Then who else?"
"One's the first lieutenant of the Nithya branch. I call him that because he's sociopathic enough to be able to shift his convictions mid‑battle, which meant he could alter the very nature of his authority without even the slightest drawback."
"That's… genuinely insane."
"Yeah… but I'd never say it to his face. He's sort of my rival, after all. There's also that kid, Sau–"
"Captain…"
"Right, right. The point is, the people I call geniuses are those who can't be guided beyond what they already are, not unless they first stumble upon what they seek. If I tried to show you how to grow, you'd only end up lost at a crossroad. And you don't need a covenant either."
"Then what am I supposed to do? We only have four days left."
"For starters, you can stop playing games with us."
"…So… you knew?"
"A few of us did. I chose not to bring it up because I hoped Blue would break her mentality, or at least notice it on her own. But now it's too late to keep pretending. You've stunted your growth for far too long. And whether you realize it or not, you've stunted hers too."
"You don't understand. My sister's pride, her joy, has always come from protecting others. From being the strongest big sister everyone can rely on. If she ever thought that wasn't always true, then it would–"
"What? It would break her?"
"…"
"I don't know what kind of sister you think you have, but I promise you she's far stronger than you give her credit for. The one who needs to grow up right now… is you."
He didn't know what to think, what to feel when he saw her again.
Beaten and brutalized, with eyes that carried a story worth thousands of words.
How could he claim he could still protect her heart when he had already failed?
Even so, there was still much he could prove through his actions from then on.
"Link: Parasite."
Tyson's velocity faltered as the armored man's pull suddenly veered off course.
"Heart Chain" wasn't just a flashy title for Red's authority.
The same way those chains could hold Tyson's flames without burning was the same way they could act as conduits for authority, even in its purest form.
All he had to do was latch them onto the spiritual veins through which the armored man channeled his power, and he could momentarily disrupt it.
He had perfected the technique with someone else's help, but the one thing he developed alone was making his chains move independently, without leverage, and without an anchor.
The night they encountered the spire had carved that drive into him, and he chose to forge his chains into serpents that defied the limitations of steel.
VWOOM!
Flames coated his legs like blazing greaves as Tyson crashed into the armored man, then vaulted away, leaving a roaring ignition in his wake.
And when the smoke cleared, the boy who had been preparing a strike from afar had somehow closed the distance.
The armored man hadn't sensed him, or perhaps he simply hadn't paid enough attention to notice the gaps in his perception, the ones he abandoned while dealing with the other two.
Now that the boy was close enough, he drew his blade, and the armored man responded with a direct gravitational push.
"I've… killed people."
"…well, obviously."
"That's it? I know it came out of nowhere, but I was hoping you'd at least pretend to be stunned."
"Nebula Branch, Code Three: your origins are rendered void the moment you stand with our cause. In other words, your past isn't questioned unless it claws its way back to you."
"And when it does?"
"The Nebula bears the sins of its cubs, or so they say. Anyway, I'm not the one who can help you sort out whatever you're wrestling with. That sounds like Clarisse's department."
"Of course, you dump it on her again."
"Hush. Now tell me, what's the equation behind your artifact's ability?"
"…I'll just say it outright. It sounds like you're throwing new terms at us and expecting us to magically know what they mean."
"Ugh. Fine. What's the approximate maximum force your artifact returns when you time it correctly? I'm asking you to form an equation that explains that output."
"Well… I guess it's around eighty‑seven percent, so… yeah, it's basically the product of eighty-seven percent with its received force. But that doesn't account for my maximum capacity."
"No. That kind of simplicity won't cut it."
"What's that supposed to mean? That's all there is to it."
"No. The wiggle room in your translation is only as wide as your interpretation of your own ability. If you intensify the steps, you'll find the point where a bit of tuning can increase your output exponentially."
"That all sounds sketchy. And I'm not even a real Eminent, so how are you planning to force a covenant on me anyway?"
"You really are an idiot, aren't you? What do you think you become when your sword's power surges through you? A knight? A maniac? A damn superhero?"
"…Alright, I get it."
"For reference, a friend of mine has an authority that builds up over time. But it has a small maximum output of its own, so she has to rely heavily on her artifact."
"That's nothing like my case. So how does that help me?"
"Using a 'last‑resort' parity, she's able to add a kind of compound interest to her ability. A dozen normal stacks become hundreds. A few dozen become thousands. The cost is steep, and it's so dangerous that anyone caught by it is almost guaranteed to breathe their last."
"So scary. But I don't have much going for me. If there's something I could sacrifice for a variable like that… I hope it won't be too drastic."
"Which reminds me, why do you swing when you activate your artifact? You don't actually need to, do you?"
"…Ah."
"Karma: Delusional Rend."
SNIKT!
A wide, razor‑edged arc of pure kinetic force tore horizontally across the canyon walls, slicing through stone fins as it screamed against the armored man.
Two covenants.
Unlike Tyson, it was what it took for Yon to change the base of his artifact's authority to his liking.
And even then, he still couldn't approach the kind of equation Cosmo expected. He simply lacked the experience.
But he could work with what he had and aim for a more direct transformation.
He focused on the function that returned the received product, replacing its factor with an exponent.
This drastic alteration demanded his first covenant, yet even then, he had to accept a fifty‑percent success rate every time he invoked the ability.
In battle, that fifty percent would decide whether he lived or died. Far from ideal, but he had developed a crutch.
He discovered a way to turn his needless habit of swinging into a weapon of its own by tricking his artifact into recognizing all fundamental forces opposing his strikes as "attacks."
Repulsion, air resistance, friction, even inertia, would be reflected as a multiplied wave of force.
And by using a second covenant to deny a general reflection with that skill, he achieved a guaranteed success rate for that specific technique whenever his primary reflection failed.
This meant Yon had become an officer capable of processing two complex skills simultaneously, inevitable for someone accustomed to absorbing and interpreting an inconceivable flood of signals at once.
"Arc: Vertical Rend."
He powered through the armored man's gravitational push, skidding back several paces. But he didn't wait for the first rend's result before unleashing another straight down the center, tearing the ground apart with equal violence.
Even Blue couldn't stop herself from muttering before she could think.
"Captain… has it really only been seven days?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Then what in the world did you put them through?!"