"Crawl back to the gutter and die."
The light-sphere in Mugino Shizuri's palm detonated, its phosphorescent burst striking the crystalline chip midair.
The chip shattered.
In the next instant, a spectacle fit to sear the eyes into memory erupted: a single beam split into nearly a hundred, a berserk spray of laser-like lances that fanned in every direction like a peacock's tail.
Dozens of slender electronic rays burst at once, the temperature of the air spiking in a heartbeat.
Haramura Makoto's pupils tightened. He snatched a handful of objects from his pocket and flung them skyward.
"Bang bang bang—"
Flames blossomed around him. Dozens of bullets poured out in an instant as he kicked back, body skimming away by tens of meters.
"Boom boom boom—"
Deafening blasts rolled outward, shockwaves ripping along the street.
Powder-smoke ballooned from the explosive powder and swallowed the field, blurring shapes and swallowing distance.
"Hmph. Childish tricks."
"Did you think bombs could stop my Meltdowner?"
"How laughable."
Mugino spat, taking two steps forward to loom over Junko Hanakaze.
With beams that dense and a lane that narrow, no one—even at full speed—could have dodged everything. In Mugino's mind, Makoto had already been turned into a sieve.
"Drugged?"
She frowned at Junko, still kneeling with her head bowed, and crouched to check. Flanda had sold them out—Mugino would kill a traitor without hesitation. Junko, though—if there was a way to save her, Mugino would take it.
Groups with names like Item were not easily staffed. If Junko fell too, their combat strength would collapse to just one—Mugino alone. Takitsubo's strength lay in support, not melee.
That was why she'd driven Makoto away from Junko earlier, using force like a whip to push him back. The first ruthless volley had been a test: if he didn't value the hostage, she'd have killed Junko the moment he moved away. If he did, she'd drag Junko out from under fire.
"That idiot ran… tch."
She lifted Junko's eyelid—unconscious, as suspected. A headache. No cars, no people. She'd have to haul her back to the main road?
"Takitsubo, get over here."
Mugino straightened, calling over her shoulder. She wasn't about to carry Junko herself.
"Bang—"
Pain rocketed up her spine from the tailbone, a heavy blow from behind.
"So—traitor, too? Die with her."
So familiar a strike—from an impossible angle. No one else could have been behind her but the girl who'd been at her back: Junko. Gritting through the pain, Mugino turned, green light coalescing in orbit around her.
"Die!"
But the kneeling Junko had already risen. A remote-like device flashed in her hand. She rolled a shoulder, the Meltdowner beam at point-blank missing by inches. Her thumb pressed down.
"Damn—"
Alarm bells screamed in Mugino's skull—no, it was pure fear dilating her pupils.
"Boom—"
Fire and sound bloomed as one.
Junko didn't look back. She bolted in the opposite direction, peeling off the battlefield.
"Fssssh—"
Ten anti-armor warheads streaked in, their tails blazing, riding the shockwave and airflow to lock onto Mugino's coordinates.
"Damn you—I won't die here!"
Mugino's scream went feral. A different construct formed—round, not a swarm—yet that same radioactive green pulsed. The ring whirled above her crown, and the ten snarling warheads dissolved upon its surface like hail on a forge.
"I'll kill you."
"Not just you. Your family. Your friends. Everything you've ever loved. I'll wipe them clean."
"Damn it! Damn it!"
Murderous fury saturated every word. Her killing intent was a crushing tide; even the pain flooding from her bleeding abdomen was erased from her mind.
It was who she was—pampered, yes, but far more so the intoxicating supremacy of a power that could snuff lives without effort. Meltdowner had shaped her nature as much as she wielded it.
But now—robbed of her ability—what was left?
Like a bird with its wings torn away—panic, and only panic.
"It's now, Misaki!"
Mugino's nerves tensed—then darkness slammed over her mind. Her final flicker of consciousness was ripped away in an instant.