Everything would race toward the final endgame, sprinting headlong to the story's conclusion.
Even Watson could not calm her mind at this moment; her gaze fixed upon that unfathomable darkness, awaiting the end of this death match.
Would it be Edlon who survived, or Roger—or would the two of them perish together.
She could not guess; all their plans had only been laid up to this last step, and beyond it, no one knew what awaited.
This was an unknowable future, a fate steeped in darkness.
It might turn out well, or it might be far worse; all she could do was wait for the result in silence, and prepare herself to atone for her mistakes.
Thinking thus, a strange power surged through her thoughts. It was like thunder hidden in the clouds, flashing again and again in step with Watson's contemplation.
The forbidden power was completely repressed, waiting only for the moment of release.
[Echo of the End].
Watson was an absolute outsider, and also the adjudicator who bore the sword.
