White fragments scattered throughout the empty space...
Small, the size of a palm, a child's palm just learning to hold a toy. So fragile that even a glance could shatter them further.
But if you look inside, they become boundless. The interior of infinity enclosed in the shape of a child's fist. Paradox. Paradox of size.
As always, everything is much more complicated than it seems. And much simpler than the complexity.
Don't judge a book by its cover. An old saying, but it seems invented specifically for these fragments. For these particles, for these... shards of a destroyed world.
The world destroyed by the witch. And what about this dimension? I wondered. Not because I wanted an answer. But because I couldn't help wondering.
The answer was obvious. It belongs to her. Her space, her stage.
But my question wasn't about ownership. I wasn't looking for who owns all this. But for whom all this is needed.
Reflections stretched. Stretched like cotton candy in the sweet machine of the mind. And the more I pulled them, the less sense remained. The final answer slipped away, as if this world itself was tearing it from my hands.
We stood not far apart. So close you could call it "near," but between us... an abyss. So wide that if I ran toward her with all my strength, I'd stay in place.
Paradox of distance.
By their nature, Hierarchies, yes, those old, forgotten, erased ones, can be considered Hilbert space. Extended, infinite, intangible. And what do Hierarchies matter now, long deprived of existence?
Probably nothing.
I was just trying... to understand. At least something, at least the place itself. To calm curiosity, as if it can be calmed.
I'm here again. Again, after the first meeting, I thought that was it. Finale, credits, curtain. But no, second meeting and realization that this could go on forever.
Forever.
We'll keep outplaying each other until one of our hearts stops. Or until it explodes from the opponent's logic. Exactly, and both options are possible.
I looked at her, she looked at me. We looked at each other, and both felt only one feeling.
Thirst.
Not for water, not for blood. Thirst for victory. Thirst to break each other. Now or never.
I had one last trump. Last, meaning "no more." Of course, there never were any, but if you believe one exists, it appears.
If she can refute even this... then it's over. Then the blades, hers, hovering behind her back like predatory birds. They don't wait for a command; they wait for a reason.
I waited for her move. Her answer. Her finishing blow.
And she kept smiling. Green eyes shining like a screen in a dark room. It wasn't joy. It was excitement. The game continues, and she likes it.
"Your claim is that I intentionally, after destroying the world, made changes..." she began, and even her voice was full of music. Stupid, mocking music.
"Exactly," Aragi cut off. Quickly, almost painfully. He didn't want to stay in her lair longer than necessary.
The sphere before us had already shown everything. Scenes, moments, the door opening... it was all there. Arguing with it is like arguing with gravity. Pointless. She understands this, and so she has nowhere to go.
"Seems my trap really dug into you," I said. "Accept it and confess, just confess."
Never has a sigh seemed so heavy to me. And yet I inhaled. I believed, I took a step forward.
"Wonderful!" she said. "I didn't even think the game would last this long! All because of your stubbornness, Aragi!"
My face tensed. Sweat ran down my neck like a thin snake. I understood her silence didn't mean deadlock. It meant pleasure.
"Enough talk. Give me your answer," I exhaled. "This time I won't leave the game to you."
Smile.
Smirk.
Answer.
Annihilation.
"My answer... NO!"
I almost laughed, really. Not even from despair, but because I understood. "No" wasn't unexpected. "No" was natural. I just didn't want to remember it. I didn't want to shatter my imagination where I'd already won.
But...
"Aragi," she said. "That's what they call imagination!"
There it is, simple word. Simple truth. Simple exposure. She tore the answer right from my tongue because I knew it myself but didn't want to admit.
People close off, withdraw from the world. Hide, build their own worlds inside their heads. Invent, dream. Remake themselves anew. And dreams become reality, sometimes. And sometimes weapons.
Imagination. That's what all this was.
"Dimensionality over one's imagination!" the witch declared.
Beautiful.
Smart.
Deadly.
The claim that seemed unbreakable turned out cardboard. Her laughter became the echo of my collapse. She approached, just a meter between us. One step, one finale.
Why is she laughing? I know the answer. She's laughing at me.
I lost.
"I lost, you won again. I admit it."
"Yes. And it couldn't be otherwise. These games always end with my victory."
Humble.
Sharp.
Accepted.
Burning.
I stood, waiting for the end. Didn't want pain, but no choice. All that remained was to accept and hope that this time it would be at least a little easier.
Heat.
Pressure.
Explosion.
Blood stopped. Heart burned. Body... vanished, darkness in eyes. The last thing I saw was her face. Not evil, not joyful.
Humble.
Humble? Why?
Too late to think. Body gone, not even dust left. Erased, like last time, as if I never existed.
Second game over. Victory to the witch again.