Keshi sat in the wheelchair at the center of a circular room—a terror attack unfolding in silence across a massive, curved display. As he turned his head, the screens moved with him—tracking his eyes.
The walls were jet black. Smooth. Seamless. He remembered the bunker—angular, panels and bolts. This place didn't feel like it was made by humans at all. No right angles—like a cavity formed underground from intense heat, everything just melted into place. Even the corridors were more like tunnels, dug by some large, subterranean creature.
Below his chair, a solid circle of white light. There were no overhead fixtures, only the glow of the floor and floating screens. Yet the entire space was perfectly lit.
Something about it made him feel dizzy, heightened by the violent scenes that surrounded him on all sides. No matter where he focused his attention, bodies piled up in his periphery. Horror at every angle.
And he couldn't look away.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Ren stood beside Keshi, staring at Atsu's display as he briefed her.
"ID the gunmen?"
"All ordinary citizens. First-time offenders. The system never flagged them."
As their faces flashed on screen, she tried to reach Emi for the third time.
[Emi. Status.]
Akashi cut in—his tone urgent.
[Commander. It's too soon.]
She turned to see him—not at his station, giving her a stern look.
[Three more days of cooldown. And I thought we agreed, no more—]
[We don't have three days.]
Five days of cooldown after ID Transplant. One of the few things Akashi was strict about.
Normally, this worked out fine. They were an offensive unit.
Surveillance—planning—simulations. Then strike: hard, fast, in and out.
Then the attacks on civilians started, stripping them of all that—most crucially, time. Now, they were being put on the defensive. And that pissed Ren off more than anything.
Chaotic. Unpredictable.
Messy.
Atsu's pupils flitted as he scanned the data.
"No pattern connecting them but one."
He blinked, staring straight ahead.
"They're all native."
Ren's eyes widened.
"What?"
She shot back around.
"All of them?"
"That's right."
You've got to be kidding.
A second critical blow. Just like that, their weapon was useless—and so was her strategy. She'd planned to send Emi in, to turn their EMP guns back on them. Guy, Nagasawa, and Nori were en route, but no one could do it faster than an Aeon. And people were dying.
Akashi chimed in, his voice betraying relief.
"Well then. Public security's problem. About time."
Ren gritted her teeth. After two personal failures, she wasn't about to roll over and die.
Time to get creative.
"Fine. We'll source the crowd."
There had to be someone capable in that station.
Atsu shot her a sideways glance.
"That's… new. Scanning."
[We're targeting civilians now?]
Ren could feel Akashi's eyes on the back of her neck. She ignored him.
[Mamoru. Emi's status.]
[Gone.]
With a single word, her thoughts evaporated.
[...Gone?]
[She took off. I thought you knew. You always seem to know where I am.]
[And you didn't stop her?!]
[It's four past noon. Lockdown lifted. Your orders, not mine.]
Akashi interjected.
[Commander.You send her in—another Telos happens.]
[It's happening now.]
A window opened in Ren's FOV.
SCANNING FOR… [EMI]
An aerial scan of a nearby street appeared. A glowing dot with the tag: EMI TORIUMI (0.301 km) weaved through clusters of identical dots.
She's close.
"Commander."
Ren turned back toward Atsu's display.
"Alter candidate number one."
The ID of a rugged man with a buzz cut appeared on screen, overlaying the station security feed. He could be seen crouching behind a pillar in a defensive-cover stance. At his feet sat four large, glittery shopping bags featuring Telos' flagship jellyfish character, Alecia.
"Ex-military. U.S. Special Forces. On vacation with family."
He looked retirement-age, gut rising and falling with heavy breaths.
"Negative. We're not involving them."
[Emi. Status.]
Radio silence.
[Commander, I don't think this—]
She snapped at Akashi.
[I told you we should keep her on a tighter leash.]
[She's not a dog. She's going to do what she wants regardless.]
[That's just like a dog! Get her here. Now. She listens to you.]
"Number two."
The soldier's ID vanished, replaced by that of a young woman. The security feed showed someone in an Alecia mascot costume standing outside the station, handing out flyers to disinterested passersby.
"No special skills, but..."
Several stills flashed on screen, pulled from security cams at different times and locations. Each photo showed the same young woman—and the partial grip of a pistol.
"She carries a concealed taser gun."
The system highlighted the grip and produced a 3D model, rotating on screen.
"A Heinzig military-grade, multi-cartridge TR-7."
Atsu turned his head toward Ren.
"It's a good product."
"How did a civilian—Fine. Who else?"
[I told you. If we keep her locked up in here with us, it'll disrupt her psychological equilibrium. She'll go crazy.]
The ID was replaced again, this time with a cheerful-looking station employee.
"Three. Station security. Still holds the long-distance record at his high school."
Atsu looked back.
"If we need a runner."
Ren sighed in frustration.
"The busiest station in the world, and that's all we've got?"
"Just one of those days, I guess."
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Emi stormed through the crowded street, hands jammed in her pockets, eyes on the ground, bumping into people as she went.
Ungrateful.
She sniffled, her nose already pink.
He'll only let you down, you know. You think you know him 'cause of some profile. You don't know anythi—
Her face smashed into the back of a gray suit jacket.
"Hey! Watch it!!"
She blinked, then looked around. A large crowd was gathered outside Yoyogi-Hachiman Station. On her toes, she peered over the shoulder of the man she bumped into. Three station employees waved their white gloves and shouted.
"Train service is suspended. All station gates are now closed."
[Emi. Come in. I know you can hear me. There's been an attack.]
The crowd swelled around her.
"What's going on?"
"They've stopped the trains!"
"Do we need to evacuate?"
"I don't hear sirens."
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Atsu stirred his creamer.
"Station security carry firearms as of June last year."
Ren pressed her middle finger to her temple.
"With zero training to use them. What a joke. They're more likely to hit an innocent than a threat. Too much noise, it'll only throw her off."
[Emi. You are disobeying a direct order. Come back now or face the consequences.]
[I know you don't want to hear this... but she's not coming.]
Why did he sound so chipper about it?
Ren dug her nails into her fists. In her periphery, Keshi sat frozen, staring ahead. She'd almost forgotten him. Their miracle boy.
Atsu swiveled his chair.
"...Commander?"
"Number two, then. Let's hope she knows how to use that taser."
Her eyes narrowed on Keshi.
This was it. Out of options.
Him too.
Akashi seemed to read her mind.
[I see… Leap of faith?]
[How was Emi trained?]
[We recruited her first.]
[Leave it to me.]
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Keshi kept his eyes fixed on the display. Six terrorists now, firing the same weapons he'd seen in the bunker—indiscriminate blasts of light. From the look of it, a crowd rush had formed. No way out.
None of it looked real…
On one screen, a little girl cried over her father, limp on the ground. She shook his collar, pouring water from a thermos onto his face.
…Maybe it wasn't.
He was being presented with images.
A new reality, with nothing else to anchor it. Maybe that was the point. This attack could be generated—an elaborate stage play, this room a set—to make him accept their story.
He had an Ichor now. He could no longer trust his senses.
The girl in the glass room flashed across his mind. Her face. He couldn't explain it, but he got the feeling she was speaking to him. Something in her eyes, that said:
They're the enemy.
"Keshi. I need your focus too."
The room reappeared at his name. He turned to see Ren staring at him, unblinking.
"I'll explain everything once you're inside."
"What? You want me to do something?"
"Yes. That is why you're here. Keshi, I had hoped to do this under different circumstances, but terrorists have attacked Shinjuku Station. You're looking at the first responders."
Keshi glanced around the room—at the faces staring back in tense anticipation.
"DEEP Project Aeon. The most elite counter-terrorism unit to ever exist."
His gaze returned to Ren.
"You wanted to know how. The truth is simple. Our Aeon agents don't hack their targets. They become them."
Keshi heard a low, guttural groan behind him. Startled, he turned to see a large, otherworldly apparatus.
"Using this machine. The Archon."
Painted a brilliant red—the only splash of color in the place. Keshi couldn't imagine how he'd missed it. Like everything else, it was smooth, curved, incomprehensible.
Engraved on its glossy hull was silver text:
ARCHON II
Beside it, strips of duct tape that bore the addendum: ".18" scrawled in thick permanent marker.
Just looking at it offered no hints. The console on top evoked the cockpit of some experimental craft. Was that how she controlled them?
As Keshi stood there, trying to make sense of it, the front of the apparatus—made of a separate, rubbery, flesh-like material—peeled back, revealing an inclined bed that jutted from the maw-like opening like a tongue, hovering above the ground.
Something in the way it moved filled Keshi with visceral dread.
Then he saw the inner headrest—splattered with what looked like blood.
His eyes widened in horror.
Yuki grimaced.
"Oops, missed a spot..."
"Keshi. We don't have much time. We didn't just bring you here to save your life. We brought you here to recruit you."
Keshi turned back to Ren.
"What?"
"As an Aeon."
The words hung in the air.
"I wish we had time for a welcome party, but people are dying. More will die unless we act. To do that, we need your help."
"My help? But you already have someone. What about—"
"She can't. She's still in recovery."
"Then why not one of you? Those guys with the guns?"
Ren let out a frustrated sigh.
"We can't. Not everyone can handle ID Transplant. It takes someone special. Our system has identified you as one of the few who can do it. Our field team is en route, but we're losing precious time. That's why—"
"No."
Ren froze.
"No?"
"What is this? You said you'd let me go—"
"I said you weren't going to prison if you cooperated. Now I'm asking for that cooperation."
"Are you people insane?!"
The room went still.
"First I save your agent. Then you shoot me. Kidnap me. How do I know you're not the bad ones?"
Akashi made a face, as if conceding the point.
Indignant, Ren countered:
"We didn't kidnap you, we—"
"Then let me go."
"That's..."
"They warned me about you. You snatch people off the street. Experiment on them. Make them your slaves."
Ren's eyebrow twitched, patience thinning.
"You keep that girl locked up in a glass cage—"
Without breaking eye contact, she signaled:
"Atsu."
Keshi flinched as loud screams filled the room, reverberating off the curved walls.
"Do you hear that?"
One by one, the cam feeds switched to first-person footage from inside the attack.
"You want to know who we are? What we do?"
Ren pointed at the screens.
"We protect them. Every single one is a life. Do you understand? Each of them matters to someone. If we fail—"
"You think I give a shit?"
Ren stopped, caught off guard.
Keshi stared down at his feet.
Real. Fake. It didn't matter…
None of it matters.
A shadow had overtaken him. One that he'd fought for years.
With anger. Grief. Sorrow.
Then hope. For a while, that was enough: daydreams, lists, savings, a train ticket.
Searching—endless searching. Cold. Hunger.
An apartment. A neighbor.
A friend.
Then finally… blood.
And when that had been drained—pure instinct. Survival. Maybe even escape.
But he'd expended all of it. There was nothing left.
He looked up at the towering wall overhead. Hurtling toward him at tremendous speed, swallowing
everything in its path.
Why couldn't they see it?
His classmates. The people in town. Everyone there in the room with him now.
Were they all just pretending? Lying to themselves?
Images flickered in the rushing current.
A tiny cast. His father's car.
The photo his mom kept in her closet.
"People die all the time…"
Then, her face. He watched it shrink and grow old—older than everyone in the nursing home. Tired eyes. The IV tube stuck in her shriveled arm. Rain outside her window.
"They get sick…"
Runa. And her empty house. Blown away in a gust of snow.
"They disappear forever…"
And then beyond it all, he saw himself.
A husk. A dead thing.
Dirt.
Like everything else.
"There's no stopping it."
Keshi tore his eyes away, blinking back tears. For some reason, even now, he refused to let them flow.
"Sorry to break it to you, but your job is meaningless..."
"You're right."
Startled, he looked back. Ren met his gaze, unwavering. She spoke with the same resoluteness, undercut by something else—something almost fragile.
"People die. They disappear. We can't bring them back. But we can stop it from happening to others. Keshi, sometimes, we do have a choice."
"Bullshit! I never had a choice in any of this! And I'm sick of it! All of it."
Words caught in his throat.
"Everything. I'm so tired... I don't want to do it anymore."
He squeezed his eyes shut, lowering his head.
In a weak voice, he heard himself mutter:
"You should have aimed higher..."
"Keshi. You are here as a direct result of your own actions. No one else is to blame."
He clutched his abdomen, feeling another wave of vomit.
"I think I'm gonna be sick..."
Ren instinctively covered her mouth and nose.
"GYAAAHHH!!!"
A female scream pierced the air.
It sliced right through the command station—through the cacophony of the attack.
Keshi's eyes shot open.
That voice.
He looked up at the large holo-display, frantically scanning the screens.
Until he saw her—there.
Maroon baseball cap. Auburn hair. Green eyes.
"Runa?!"
At once, the real world came rushing back.
That nose—lips—cheeks.
Is it?
Firecrackers burst beneath his skin.
There was no mistaking it.
Catching his reaction, Ren turned.
"Someone you know?"
Keshi stood frozen, pupils trembling as he watched her fight through the crowd, his breaths growing faster and heavier.
All those years, waiting, searching, not knowing if she was alive at all.
And now here she was—about to die before his eyes.
She ducked, covering her face as a bright flash shot past her, striking the man beside her in the head.
But what could he do? He was powerless. Barely able to stand, except—
Keshi felt solid ground beneath him. He couldn't remember leaving the chair—he'd felt no pain. It was as if her name alone had yanked him up on his feet.
Ren shot a quick glance at Akashi, who gave a slight, knowing nod back.
The feed enlarged, filling the entire display.
"Keshi. You can save her."
Keshi gripped his wound, gown heaving—faster and faster. His whole body was shaking—not from fear—but some other force, something older, deeper.
…It had come without warning.
But this was it.
The moment.
Keshi turned back to face the Archon, staring at the splattered headrest.
If there was even the slightest chance…
His lungs flooded with a huge rush of air, expelled in one long, shaky breath.
A laugh almost escaped as he coughed out the words:
"God-damn it, Runa."
Maybe… There was still blood in him yet.
Keshi snapped back to Ren.
"I'll do it."