"What did you mean just now?"Sento stepped forward, his voice low but demanding. "You said I was… who?"
Gentoku—no longer pretending—paused. Then, without a hint of irony, turned with that same unchanging, infuriatingly sincere smile.
"Katsuragi Takumi is alive."
Sento flinched.
"He just… changed his face."
Gentoku walked closer, each step heavy with implication.
"You, Kiryu Sento… you are Katsuragi Takumi. The Devil's Scientist."
"That's not possible!" Misora gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Trust me," Gentoku said, turning to her with a touch of smug nostalgia. "I thought he died a year ago too. But Soichi—Stalk—told me everything."
He began to recount the entire story, as if reading from a police report.
"Katsuragi wanted out. He had moral objections. So Stalk… took care of it."
"First, he knocked Takumi unconscious."
"Then a man named Sato Taro arrived—invited by Stalk. He killed Sato, swapped their identities, switched the clothes, the face, the fingerprints."
"Then, when the time was right, he tipped off the cops—and let Banjou Ryuga take the fall."
"After that, Stalk spirited Takumi away and wiped his memories."
A long silence followed.
Misora's legs gave way. She fainted.
"Misora!" Ryuga lunged to catch her just in time.
Too much information, too fast, he thought grimly. No wonder she collapsed.
Sento was rooted to the spot. His mind reeled, and yet…Everything Gentoku said lined up.
The genius-level intellect. The unexplainable instincts with Build's system. The mysterious flashes of memory. All of it.
Gentoku didn't stop there.
"You were a man who mocked justice. Who turned science into sin. This persona, 'Kiryu Sento'—it's a lie built on murder and memory manipulation."
"But don't worry." He gave a final, wry smirk. "I'll be back. And next time… you'll be working for me again."
With that, Gentoku Himuro turned and left—honestly.
The next day, the base was quiet.
Misora locked herself in her room, curled beneath a blanket, numb with heartbreak.Sento wandered the city alone, trying to piece himself back together.
If I really am Katsuragi… what does that make me now? A fraud? A puppet?
But there was no time for soul-searching.
Down an alley, he spotted a patrol of Smash and mechanical defenders bearing the crest of the Northern Capital.
"They're invading?!" Instinct took over—he transformed and rushed into battle.
But his heart wasn't in it. His will, cracked.
Was I just a tool?Have I only ever caused harm?
His hesitation cost him. The Smash overwhelmed him.
And that's when Ryuga arrived, crashing through like a whirlwind.
"You okay?! You're supposed to be the genius here!"
Sento didn't answer. He lay on the pavement, staring at the stormy sky.
"I made them… these monsters. All of it. My fault."
"People wouldn't be dying if not for me…"
Ryuga knelt beside him, fury building—not at Sento, but at his self-loathing.
"And if you weren't here now, how many more would be dying?!" he snapped.
"You keep saying you made the Smash—but who's out here trying to stop them now?!"
"Those bottles didn't just create monsters. They've saved people too!"
"You said you fight to protect others. What happened to that guy?!"
"Who cares what name you had before?! You're Kiryu Sento now!"
"So stop crying and start fighting!"
Sento blinked, stunned into silence.
Then, slowly, he rose.
"I forgot… who I was," he murmured.
"I'm the narcissist with a warped sense of justice, remember?"
"I'm Kiryu Sento. The hero who annoys everyone with science lectures!"
"That's more like it," Ryuga grinned. "Now get your act together."
But Sento didn't transform again.
Instead, he bent down, gathered a few blank bottles, and began extracting components from the defeated Smash.
"Let's start by figuring out who these poor guys used to be…"
Before Sento could finish, a new voice rang out—clear and stern.
"Those soldiers… were from the Northern Capital."
Himuro Taizan, now Acting Prime Minister once again, rolled up in a wheelchair. His eyes burned with fatigue and resolve.
"This morning, the North officially declared war. The invasion has begun."
Sento and Ryuga exchanged glances.
So it starts…
The Opening of Pandora
With all sixty Full Bottles now purified—including the last twenty by Misora—the requirements to unlock Pandora's Box were finally met.
And as if he'd been waiting for this very moment, Evolto, the force behind everything, resumed his movements.
Taking on Stalk's form, he slipped between the three capitals, sowing discord and igniting tensions.
The Northern Capital struck first, pouring Smash and Mecha Defenders through the Sky Wall. The Eastern Capital—peaceful, underprepared, and undermanned—began to fall.
Sento and Ryuga were strong, but they couldn't be everywhere at once.
Entire districts collapsed within days.
The only consolation was that Evolto seemed interested only in capturing Pandora's Box. For now, civilians were spared widespread harm.
But the pressure was rising.
Meanwhile, Misora emerged from hiding and wandered the broken streets. The devastation twisted in her heart like a knife.
"If I hadn't purified the bottles… if I'd refused… none of this would have happened."
Sento found her in a daze.
"I should've stopped it," he said.
They locked eyes.
And then—finally—they collapsed into each other's arms, weeping.
Blaming themselves. Forgiving each other. Finding comfort in shared sorrow.
The moment would have been touching… if not for a very ill-timed interruption.
"Oi! Can you two get a room?" a snide voice cut in.
They looked up—blinking.
Kazumi Sawatari, aka Grease, stood with arms crossed, a dead Smash at his feet and a look of disgust plastered on his face.
"We're in the middle of a war, not a soap opera. Pull it together, lovebirds."