November ended. December began.
As the final month of the year, December was special. In Japan, schools gave a two-month winter break. Christmas and New Year were on the horizon. Horse racing fans might even be eyeing the "Arima Kinen."
The night sky was blanketed in heavy clouds. The campus lay silent—holiday meant no students, not even ghosts. Only snow everywhere, thick from the storm earlier that day.
Especially the playground, where a single step sank deep into white.
Under nightfall, the world belonged to monsters. Darkness writhed, coiling as the vessel for human fears. The ancients believed moonlight was light that had already died once—why the living feared it, and why yokai loved it.
Fortunately, the school was on break.
Fortunately, it was nighttime.
So the students here escaped doom. They would not see what now writhed on the snowy field—the chaos given shape, madness twisted into flesh, shrieking monstrosities.
"■■■■—!!"
On the wide, snow-covered playground, the army of abominations roared, gnashing their misshapen maws. Their cries were worse than nails across a blackboard, as if they were born only to stand against life, reason, and the world itself. Their very aura subtly corroded reality.
If a child saw them, they would surely have nightmares. Even adults couldn't withstand the psychic taint—their forms and voices dragged minds into endless madness. It was said children, with purer souls and sharper intuition, would be all the more vulnerable.
"Don't worry about civilians being harmed, or civilians seeing. This place is perfect for the experiment—ideal in every way."
On the school rooftop, Meteora hovered invisible, watching the creatures and scanning for strays.
These writhing ink-born monsters weren't a threat to the Created. Yūya Mirokuji could wipe out dozens with a swing. Kanoya Rui could stomp the field flat with his fifty-five-meter Gigas Machina. But against ordinary humans? It was dimensional suppression. No normal person could resist the psychic corruption.
They dared not let even a single one of these things reach the public.
So even though this wasn't their first time fighting them, Meteora's group prepared carefully every time.
This time, though, was different.
She tapped the device at her ear. In a flat, mechanical voice she said:
"Yangtze, Yangtze, this is Yellow River. Respond, over."
Static hissed. At last another voice came through, tinged with exasperation despite the distortion.
"…Meteora, please be serious."
"I only thought you were too tense, Selesia. A joke might loosen you up."
Expressionless, she only furrowed her brows slightly. "Not funny?"
Silence answered.
"…Have you reached position?"
Meteora's tone remained even, as if her failed joke hadn't mattered.
"…Yes. But are we sure this is safe?"
Selesia's voice carried doubt through the line.
"Only one way to know. At least theoretically, the odds are good."
"…Could you not tack on 'theoretically' at the end?"
Selesia sighed, but her eyes hardened as she gazed across the field at the patrolling horde. "Still… you're right. If we do nothing, we'll only repeat that last disaster."
The overpass battle replayed in her mind. Even closing her eyes in bed, she saw their bloody defeat, and anger smoldered like fire on dry grass.
Even their strongest, Yūya, had fallen almost instantly. Even if Rui had joined instead of holding back, the result likely wouldn't have changed. Alicetaria's transformed form was simply too strong.
No mechanics, only raw stats. Pure cheat.
Like a corrupted Saber with infinite mana, tossing out Noble Phantasms as basic attacks.
Like Heracles, reviving stronger each time, ignoring damage and smashing relentlessly.
This wasn't a gap sweat and effort could bridge. This was a cheat build. And the only way to fight cheats—was to cheat too. Before the ban hammer fell, see whose cheat ran deeper.
"We don't know what happened to Alicetaria—what she encountered when those monsters attacked her—but she proved one thing: the Created's settings can change. They aren't bound by their stories alone."
Meteora spoke calmly.
The idea had first come from Yūya, but Meteora's side had run the first tests. Matsubara had even called in Mariné for art.
Matsubara wrote a new ability for Selesia, added incantations, even drafted connecting plot. Mariné drew illustrations.
And nothing changed.
Just an experiment. But after the overpass defeat, the experiment returned with new weight.
"With Alicetaria's case before us, at least we know it's possible. Our task now… is to make it possible for us."
Holding Meteora's words in her mind, Selesia exhaled, then stepped from the school building toward the writhing horde.
The abominations stirred, sensing human presence. Though eyeless, they loathed all that lived. Mindless, driven only by destruction.
There weren't many—just enough to fill the field. Yūya could have ended them alone. Rui could have with his mech. But for Selesia, it was difficult. She had only her sword, no ranged attacks.
Yūya, waiting farther away, stayed alert. As their ace, his task was to guard against surprises—and he was curious about the experiment's results.
On the rooftop, Meteora whispered into the device:
"It's time, Kikuchihara-san."
Across two streets, Kikuchihara Aki sat in a car. At Meteora's words, she nodded and turned to the back seat.
"Matsubara-san. You may begin."
"…So it starts."
Matsubara Takashi was tense. If this failed, his own work might be swarmed with backlash.
But still—
"As her Creator, if I can't risk at least this much, what am I worth…"
He uploaded the short story he'd written, with Mariné's illustration, to social media. Caption: 'A new concept for Selesia, drawn by Mariné-san. Still provisional, but if it's well received, it may appear in canon. Please share! Comments welcome!'
Uploaded. And now—wait.
It was an experiment. A test.
Matsubara couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so anxious for reader feedback. Expectation and dread tangled in his chest.
Come… acknowledge her. Resonate with her. Let the thoughts of thousands converge here!
Not just Matsubara. Kikuchihara, Meteora, Yūya—all of them waited to witness the change.
"…It's happening!"
Matsubara cried.
On the screen, likes and shares spiked—thousands in seconds.
BOOM!
The cloud-choked sky trembled. A crimson pillar of light erupted upward.
All eyes turned.
Selesia stood within, hair blazing red, lifted by the storm of power.
If someone queued a Digimon evolution track right now, it would fit perfectly…
But this was closer to a Servant's ascension.
When she opened her eyes again, her combat suit had transformed, and power flooded her body like a river.
Power she had never known—yet could command effortlessly, needing only a thought.
"■■■■—!!"
The monsters howled. At the pillar's rise they had faltered, stunned, but now frenzy returned, worse than before.
But Selesia no longer feared them.
Her lips curved. Confident.
She raised her sword. Mana gathered at the blade, blooming into crimson fire. Before she even swung, the air scorched, snow hissing into steam.
The world burned red. The monsters, cloaked in shadow, were set ablaze.
Her eyes flashed. Both hands gripped the sword—gripping fire itself.
And she struck.
"Ha—!!"
Flame surged like a tidal wave. Light and heat ballooned, rolling across the field. The darkness that sheltered the monsters was torn to rags. Their shrieks were drowned in the roar of fire.
When the blaze cooled, only molten ground and scalding wind remained.
And the monsters. Still almost unscathed.
She blinked. Then remembered—these things had to be killed twice.
"Uwaah!"
Of course, she wasn't beaten. She wasn't one of those two hopeless, bungling goddesses. But it did take frantic effort before she managed to finish them all off.
When she returned to the others, her face was bright red. Not from heat—from shame. So much power, and I still fought like that…
But no one teased her. Meteora was already running checks.
"…It's gone. The power's completely vanished. Like a flower blooming for only a night."
Turning pages of her grimoire, Meteora frowned. "Insufficient recognition? Or because this wasn't 'main canon'?"
"With so short a window, it's useless in battle," Yūya muttered. His sharp eyes cut toward Selesia. "Can't you bring it out again?"
She closed her eyes, concentrating. At last, she shook her head.
"…No. Nothing."
"Then why could that knight transform anytime she wanted?"
His voice was sour. His fixation on Alicetaria plain.
"We still don't understand what triggered her change." Meteora lifted her gaze. "If the Created's power truly stems from human recognition… then Alicetaria doesn't fit the rule."
Matsubara had needed online approval to grant Selesia even a fleeting upgrade. Yet Alicetaria had changed with no recognition at all.
"…That's enough for today."
Meteora shut her grimoire. The magic circles faded. "Eat well. Bathe well. Leave your troubles for tomorrow's self. Leave the joy for today's."
Selesia chuckled softly. "Then won't tomorrow's me resent you?"
"Today was your turn to shine. Next time's mine." Yūya grinned, then scowled, as if remembering. "…Too bad my kami-sama is that kind of guy. Compared to him, Selesia, your Creator's a hundred thousand times better…"
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