"…I'm fine," Etoile whispered, his voice trembling slightly as the mech gently patted his head with its mechanical hand, much to his embarrassment.
Yuzuki raised an eyebrow at the scene, while Kiana giggled, further flustering the young boy.
Swatting the mech's hand away, Etoile assumed a fighting stance.
"Let's hope the Herrscher can handle him. We need to focus on what's in front of us," he said, clearing his throat and narrowing his eyes at Yuzuki, who remained fixated on Victor's back.
"Begin!"
"Oh no you don't!" Kiana smirked, swinging her bat toward Etoile as he dashed low.
The metal bat bounced off the mech's arms as it suddenly joined the fray, hovering protectively behind the white-haired boy as he ran past her. Kiana's eyes narrowed as the mech loomed before her, its metallic frame gleaming under the flickering lights.
She stood her ground, her grip tightening around the metal bat as the mech advanced with a low mechanical hum. It said nothing—no threats, no acknowledgments—just the sound of gears shifting and electricity humming beneath its armor.
"Hey, big guy," Kiana called out, trying to mask the nerves in her voice with a smirk. "You sure you wanna do this? 'Cause I've got a mean swing and zero patience for scary tin cans."
The mech didn't flinch. Its orange optics locked onto her, unmoving, unfeeling.
"Right… no jokes then," she muttered under her breath.
She charged first—bold, reckless, hopeful. Her bat sang through the air, aiming for the mech's chest. But the machine shifted sideways with mechanical precision. Her swing hit empty space. Before she could recover, its arm lashed out like a piston.
"Gh—!" Kiana barely ducked, the metallic swipe grazing her hair and ringing in her ears.
She stumbled back, breath caught in her throat. The mech pressed forward, unrelenting. A second punch aimed for her side. She twisted to avoid it, her boot sliding across the dusty rooftop, nearly losing balance.
"Okay, okay—so you're fast," she breathed, gritting her teeth. "Fine. That just means I need to hit harder."
She darted in again, this time aiming low. Her bat connected with its tail A spark flew, metal shrieked—and the mech didn't even budge.
"What…?"
Its segments shifted with a hiss—and then came the counter.
A heavy backhand slammed into her midsection, sending her flying. Kiana hit the ground hard, her bat skittering out of reach with a sickening clatter. Pain bloomed across her ribs as she rolled, coughing.
The mech approached in silence, step by deliberate step.
"D-Don't…" Kiana rasped, forcing herself to her knees. Her legs shook beneath her. "I don't wanna fight you. You're… you're better than this, right?"
Still no answer. Just that copper gaze, steady and unblinking.
"Please," she pleaded, hands trembling. "You don't have to do this. I know you can hear me! You're not just some machine, right? You're—you're more than your orders."
The mech halted.
Kiana froze, hope flickering in her chest. "Y-You stopped… Does that mean you believe me?" she whispered, eyes lighting up. "I knew it. I knew you were listening."
She stood shakily, arms raised in triumph. "HAH! I did it! You totally had a change of heart, didn't you?! That's the power of friendship!"
But the mech didn't move. Its gaze never wavered.
Slowly, Kiana's victorious grin faltered.
Her brows furrowed.
"...Wait," she mumbled, turning slightly. Her smile dropped completely.
The mech wasn't looking at her.
Its gaze… was locked past her—over her shoulder.
Straight at Yuzuki.
A silent calculation in its cold red eyes.
"...Yuzu?" she whispered, her throat tightening with dread.
And the wind picked up.
A low howl swept across the rooftop, carrying with it the scent of ozone and the distant echoes of battle. Yet, to Yuzuki, the world had fallen silent. His ears registered nothing but the rhythmic thump of his own heartbeat, each beat a reminder of the turmoil within.
His eyes closed, seeking solace in the darkness behind his lids. Guilt coiled around his heart, a serpent tightening its grip with each passing second. Doubt gnawed at his resolve, whispering insidious questions: Was this the right path? Did the ends justify the means?
He had believed in his mission, convinced himself that sacrifices were necessary. But now, standing on the precipice of confrontation, he questioned everything.
A sudden movement snapped him back to reality.
Etoile lunged.
Blade-first, eyes blazing with determination, the young warrior closed the distance in a heartbeat. His sword carved a gleaming arc through the air, aimed directly at Yuzuki's throat.
Yuzuki didn't move.
Not a step. Not a flinch.
The blade sliced through the space where his neck had been, missing by a whisper. Yuzuki's head had tilted, just enough to let the attack pass harmlessly.
Etoile's eyes widened, but he pressed on.
A thrust targeted Yuzuki's heart.
A sidestep—barely perceptible—allowed the blade to slide past his ribs.
A flurry of slashes followed: left, right, diagonal, upward. Each strike was precise, fueled by frustration and desperation.
Yuzuki remained rooted, his body swaying with the grace of a reed in the wind. His movements were minimal, almost imperceptible, yet each one was perfectly timed to evade the onslaught.
"Are you mocking me?" Etoile hissed, sweat glistening on his brow.
Yuzuki's eyes opened, calm and unblinking. "No," he replied softly. "I'm just thinking."
Etoile's grip tightened on his sword. With a roar, he unleashed another barrage, his blade a blur of silver.
Yuzuki's response was the same: subtle shifts, minute adjustments, an elegant dance of evasion.
Not a single blow landed.
And Yuzuki hadn't moved his feet once.
With each dodge, memories flooded his mind: the trust he'd shattered, the friends he'd betrayed, the path he'd chosen. The realization hit him like a blow—he had become the very thing he sought to destroy.
Etoile's blade came down once more, a final, desperate strike. This time, Yuzuki moved. In a blur, his hand reached up, catching the blade with the hilt of his own katana.
"I will atone with my life," he whispered, eyes meeting Etoile's with a newfound resolve.