"Please, Onee-sama, save them!" Tsugumi cried, clutching Kurumi's hand in terror. Her small body trembled, eyes wide with fear.
"Calm down, little kitten." Kurumi placed a gentle hand on Tsugumi's head, her gaze cold and calculating as she watched the towers of crystallized virus matter climbing toward the sky.
"The virus has only awakened—it hasn't fully erupted yet. My power and the virus are exact opposites. If I act now to suppress it, the sudden clash of energies will ignite everything at once, accelerating the apocalypse."
Once Tsugumi's panic began to subside, Kurumi's tone softened. "That means there's no winning move right now. I can't stop it directly—I have to think from the perspective of all humanity."
"I'm sorry, Onee-sama," Tsugumi whispered, bowing her head.
"It's fine. Tolerating a willful little sister is an elder sister's duty." Kurumi flicked Tsugumi's forehead playfully, then turned to Inori, gently taking her hand. "Inori, will you believe in me—always, no matter what happens?"
For once, Inori didn't respond with confusion. She nodded firmly.
"Good. Then, Inori, go with Tsugumi and bring the members of the Funeral Parlor back under control. I'll take over GHQ. Our first priority is to restore order. The virus has only leaked partially—its spread is limited to Tokyo, and not everyone is being crystallized." Kurumi patted Inori's head affectionately. Such soft hair... I'll have to use headpats as rewards and comfort from now on.
Inori nodded and followed Tsugumi toward the battlefront.
"Is there anything I can do?" Arisa asked anxiously. She had followed Kurumi here, her heart torn between fear and determination. She wanted to help, to do something—anything—for humanity's survival.
"Wait here for Shu Ouma," Kurumi said, handing her a communicator. "When he arrives, use this to contact Major Segai. He'll guide you both on what to do next."
"But... Shu said he hates his power. Will he even come back?" Arisa asked nervously.
"He will—because he's Shu Ouma." Kurumi's lips curved into her signature mischievous smile, the universal answer that could justify anything. Without another word, she turned and ran into the GHQ headquarters.
The city was in chaos. Fear spread faster than the virus itself. GHQ and the Funeral Parlor alike were united in their desperation to stop the looming apocalypse.
At the entrance of the GHQ command center, two bodies lay in pools of blood, riddled with bullet holes. The corpses belonged to General Yang—the GHQ Commander-in-Chief—and his mistress.
Kurumi glanced at them briefly before averting her gaze, her expression indifferent. The general had once spoken to her warmly, almost familiarly, but it had all been an act—a mask she wore when dealing with ordinary people. In truth, she had never felt even a shred of friendship toward that mediocre man.
Her eyes shifted toward a figure by the shattered window—a blond young man sitting still, the aura of death heavy around him. His posture radiated isolation, emptiness, despair.
Daryl Yan—the general's son. A child twisted by neglect. Ever since his mother's death, his father had ignored him completely, burying himself in military affairs and women. The boy grew up in solitude, convinced he was unwanted, unloved. His heart craved affection—but never received it.
And now, on this day of chaos, Daryl had come to save his father—to flee with him before the world ended. But his father, cradling his mistress, didn't even recognize his own son. That was when Daryl broke. He lost control and riddled them both with bullets.
Kurumi's lips curved into a dark, knowing smile as she shifted into her Miku Izayoi form and began walking toward him. The echo of her high heels against the floor was sharp, yet elegant.
Dressed in her blue-and-white idol gown, her silver hair adorned with a single orchid clip, Miku Izayoi—the Angel—was a divine vision amid the ruin.
Wearing pristine white gloves, she reached forward and removed Daryl's pilot headset, revealing his messy golden hair. Still, he didn't move—his eyes were hollow, his mind shattered.
Kurumi lifted Daryl's head, tilting it back so he faced upward. Then, lowering her own gaze, she leaned close until he could see her clearly. How about that—an angel descends. Surprised?
A faint, dreamlike light flickered in his dull eyes. Daryl spoke in a soft, distant voice, as if lost in a dream.
"They say when people die, they see the most important person in their life before their eyes. But I... I didn't see mine. Instead, I saw an angel. I guess I really am a mistake, a useless existence."
Boom. Kurumi's inner thoughts flared. In her Miku Izayoi form, her pride was absolute—she could not allow herself to lose.
"What a pitiful sight... a poor child that nobody needs," Kurumi said with an elegant smile. Well? Can you feel my divine grace now?
Seriously? Are you a child? Kurumi's inner voice snapped back at herself in exasperation. For all her pride, Miku's personality still carried a streak of childishness. Now Kurumi was trapped in the absurd situation of being annoyed... at herself.
Daryl suddenly coughed violently, choking on his own breath until his face turned red. Easy there! Don't get so worked up! Even if I'm this beautiful and divine, you're still just a pitiful human male...
A flash of white light burst around her—Kurumi instantly shifted back to her original form. How could I forget? Miku was, after all, the embodiment of a proud yuri spirit. Aside from Shido Itsuka, every man in Miku's eyes was little more than an insect.
"The angel's gone..." Daryl exclaimed, flipping around to face her, his expression desperate.
"She hasn't vanished," Kurumi said gently, smiling faintly. "It's just that... in that form, it's hard to communicate normally with you." Listening to Miku's thoughts any longer wasn't entertainment—it was pure mental torture.
"Miss Kurumi!" Daryl murmured, sitting on the floor in a daze. "You... you were the angel? Why live as Kurumi Tokisaki?"
"You can refer to my previous answer," Kurumi replied calmly, and Daryl fell silent again, blankly staring at the floor.
A spark of determination flickered in her crimson eyes. Her gaze turned toward the green mecha beside him. "Unit number 823. You seem to use that machine often. That number—it must have meaning, doesn't it? Let me guess... your birthday?"
Daryl's body trembled. His expression twisted painfully.
"I've been watching you for some time, Lieutenant Daryl," Kurumi said softly, adjusting her twin tails with elegant grace. "You're a brave officer—always fighting at the front lines, always shining brighter than the rest."
"The Angel... has been watching me?" Daryl asked, his voice full of disbelief.
"Yes," Kurumi nodded, her smile serene. "Because your actions seem so desperate—as if you're struggling for someone's approval, even though you don't know whose. That longing... that loneliness—it drew my eyes to you."
Daryl stared at her blankly for a moment, then tears welled up and streamed down his cheeks. His face remained still, but he couldn't stop crying.
"My, my, why the tears?" Kurumi bent down slightly, patting his head as if comforting a child. "There, there. No crying now."
"I'm fine, Angel," Daryl said through tears, smiling faintly. "It's just... knowing that you were watching me—I suddenly don't want to die anymore."
Kurumi's inner note: 'Neglected children—just give them the right kindness at the right time, and they're yours in seconds.'
"Now then, Lieutenant Daryl," Kurumi said, straightening her posture. She transformed once more into her Miku Izayoi form, her expression radiant and divine. "If you truly can't find meaning in life... then become my knight. Fight for me."
The angel descended again—and the poor soul obeyed.
"It would be my honor," Daryl said, kneeling and bowing deeply before her.
Kurumi resisted the urge to cringe at herself. Never again. I'm never transforming into Miku's form just to deal with a man. I'll lose my mind.
"Daryl, I have a gift for you." Kurumi touched a finger to his chest. A silver light shimmered, and a multicolored sphere emerged from within him—his Void.
"How beautiful... a kaleidoscope that reflects all attacks." Kurumi smiled softly. "Lieutenant Daryl, your kaleidoscope shall become a shield—a radiant bloom that protects instead of destroys. My knight, will you allow your heart to transform—will you become my shield?"
A Void changes with the heart. When a person's life undergoes transformation, so too does their Void. And when others believe in you—when they wish you to become something greater—that faith shapes your essence as well.
"I will," Daryl said solemnly. As his words fell, the kaleidoscopic sphere unfolded like a blossoming flower, becoming a vibrant, petal-shaped shield capable of reflecting any attack.
...
Elsewhere, Tsugumi had finally managed—after immense effort—to gather the scattered members of the Funeral Parlor. But just then, a spatial rift opened behind Inori. A silver-haired boy reached out, grabbed her, and pulled her into the void.
"Inori!" Tsugumi screamed, sprinting toward her, but it was too late. Inori vanished into the rift.
"What do I do? How will I explain this to Onee-sama?" Tsugumi panicked, clutching her head. Just imagining Kurumi's frown made her want to dig her own grave.
"Funeral Parlor members, you are surrounded."
Mecha units descended, encircling the remaining resistance fighters. While Tsugumi had been rallying the disheartened, GHQ forces had already closed in—surrounding them completely.