A quiet annex far from the Akano estate, a house as solitary as a heron in winter, was the room where Akano Nadeshiko was held under soft arrest.

The fighters who had ringed it earlier were burned away by phoenix fire; even after battle, the courtyard sat neat, like raked gravel after rain. The girl, fresh from a war, staggered back, dragging a greatsword a size too big, like a moon dragging tides.

“…?”

Near dawn, the lights still glowed inside, embers against the pale horizon.

There were fresh char marks across the floor tiles, black as clawed shadows, and a few untreated pools of blood, dull as dried plum.

Akano Souu’s pupils tightened; fear rose first, then her steps quickened toward the door like a sparrow racing a storm.

The door stood open.

“!!!”

A second wave. The first fighters were just feelers, like scouts in fog.

Cold shock dumped over her like a bucket from the rafters. Even her breath hitched, winter-stiff.

“…about time…” “Mm…”

Voices from inside, low and close, two threads crossing. A muted female voice and her mother’s answer—was an intruder leaning on threats?

Souu yanked up her greatsword, then slammed her shoulder into the half-closed door.

“Get away from my mom—!!”

She charged from dim night straight into bright room-light. The sudden glare stabbed like ice; two, three tears slipped, shimmering like dew.

Through that watery veil, she looked to the figure in the living room—

“…Huh?”

Silver hair. Maid dress. An iron staff slung like a spear. The companion who ran with Yekase.

Another blink. Akano Nadeshiko sat at the dining table’s end, humming, wearing a sly, almost girlish smile, fox-bright.

“You finally admitted it!”

“???”

“Your mother watched you grow into a strong, just hero, and you got so cute, too! I feel so relieved, my body even feels lively again.”

“????”

“Hungry from fighting? Come eat a late-night bowl.” Ivaris walked out from the kitchen with two beef rice bowls, steaming like small clouds.

“…No, why—”

How can you leave the Special Zone?

If you bolt, the ID card screams. Drones and Shadow Curtain International fighters scale up their pursuit like tide stacking waves. You don’t slip in quiet and cook.

“I share an ID card with Yekase, so I can slip out unseen. She told me to check on you when I could. I didn’t expect a real situation.”

Ivaris scolded, voice righteous as a bell: “I thought you’d matured after that incident. Alone, you’re still reckless. You didn’t even think to hide your mother elsewhere!”

“Uh, it’s my fault. I’m very sorry. Thank you for helping…” Souu bowed her head, shame first, then words.

Strange. When did she meet this woman? How does she know the Dragon God Eagle was a bit rash back then?

Souu couldn’t place it. But her mother being safe made questions dissolve like salt in broth. She pulled out a chair and sat.

Ivaris set an unopened bottle of honey mustard by her bowl, like sunlight caught in glass.

“Enjoy, both of you. Before the drones return to their stations, I’ll head back to the Special Zone.”

…She left.

The room held only Akano Souu and Akano Nadeshiko, and two hot beef bowls, fragrant as street stalls at dusk.

“…………”

“How’ve you been these years? Did anyone bully you? Do you have a place to live? Do you eat on time?” Nadeshiko threw questions like beads from a strand.

“…Mm. I have a place. My comrades cook.”

“You’re the Beast King Squadron’s Dragon God Eagle, right? I follow your team’s news. When I saw you got caught early this year, I worried myself sick, but I pulled through.”

Souu snapped her head up. “How’s your health?”

“Can’t get better, can’t get worse… that kind of feeling. It is what it is.”

Nadeshiko’s face was pale as paper. Hair like dry vine. Lips without much color. She sat easy and smiled, willow-soft, but maybe she was holding a mountain on thin shoulders.

“Bathe often. Don’t let dirty clothes pile. When a girl’s matters come, keep warm. If you feel off, rest. Don’t chase cold or spice…”

“Stop… stop, please!” Souu raised both hands, like surrender, her cheeks redder than when she warmed her hands by the fire. “I don’t… have that! My body’s a magical construct!”

Nadeshiko blinked. “No? Then how will you have children?”

“I can’t and I won’t!”

“Don’t you like boys?”

“Why would you think that?!”

“So I won’t get a grandbaby…”

A woman who once shared the “Strategist” title with the Hagiwara family’s eldest daughter propped her chin with both hands, and kept up this nourishingly pointless chatter, like rain tapping bamboo.

Her beef bowl sat untouched. She just stared at the girl across from her, as if pressing Souu’s face into her retinas like a woodblock print.

After a while, after Souu mixed honey mustard into her remaining rice, she looked up again. Nadeshiko spoke with a careful, testing softness, like stepping onto thin ice:

“Call me Mom again, okay? I’m afraid I won’t get another chance.”

…………

…………

The drones brought news from Chubu Risa.

She wanted to talk with Yekase in person. She set the meeting at the “Jingta Seaside District” Hotel, Room 404—Yekase realized that was the upper half of the official kiosk’s quick hotel.

She walked into the kiosk, draped in a flock of drones like sparrows on eaves. Their lenses pressed to the glass wall outside, fish-eye unblinking, refusing to leave early even for a breath.

She didn’t know how much was because she looked like a “dragon girl,” and how much was because she walked with a moving castle.

The hotel, as Souu had said, had only three floors—the building’s fourth through seventh. The elevator served only the hotel, and the panel showed 1-2-3. Where would 404 come from? As Yekase readied a left-right-left-right ABAB cheat on the panel, the metal face slid down like a secret scroll. A hidden top row revealed—a button for the fourth floor.

She stepped out of the elevator and found a maid automaton waiting, posture neat as stacked paper. Unlike European styles, this one’s skirt was cut scandal-short, the chest stitched to shout a valley, pure two-dimensional mod. Yekase disliked that sweetened style; full coverage, to her, sharpened a maid’s modest poise.

Welcome. Do you require assistance?

“No.”

Maybe too much game experience in certain genres, but looking at this doll, she felt there might be a person fixed inside—unseen and unheard—like a moth behind glass. A restless itch rose, monkey-mind loud. Negotiating with Chubu needed clarity. She refused accompaniment at once.

She reached Room 404. As she lifted her hand to knock, the door slid open, soft as a breath.

From the hall, sight ran down a narrow entryway, over sofa and TV, to the woman by the window. Their gazes met and caught like hooks on silk.

Chubu Risa.

The Evening Star’s Machine God. Claims seventeen; true age unknown. Dual PhDs from Waseda in Applied Infinite Power and Mechanical Design, Manufacturing and Automation. Mechanic. Ancient Alchemist. A one-in-ten-thousand genius.

On paper alone, she flattened someone’s proud “undergrad!” with a scholar’s mountain. An aura of higher learning ringed her—

No, a literal halo floated above her head.

A ultrathin ring, like an LED loop, with no visible support, held aloft against gravity by Infinite Power, moonlight made technical.

“You came.”

“I came.”

“You still came.”

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“But you’ve come.”

“But I’ve come.”

“Since you’re here, sit.”

Yekase stepped into the suite.

The hidden fourth floor earned its secrecy. The rooms were presidential suites. No bed at the threshold, but a grand living room, like a stage before curtains. Chubu sat in a single armchair facing the door. On the coffee table, a handmade iron tea set, odd and beautiful, steamed after a fresh pour, breath curling like incense.

“You said those papers were posted by you.”

“Correct.”

Chubu lifted a cup, nodding. “Thank you for your frankness, Miss Yekase. After that press conference, I watched Flash Energy closely. In my view, it’ll be one of humanity’s main directions—like my Star Relic series—it’ll blaze for a century.”

“I’ve always loved multi-mech parallel linkage systems. I heard you reached seven-mech combination?”

“Likewise. The way ‘Luciferin’ unfolds and transforms its outer armor was a cross-era stroke. The mechanic world still talks about it…”

“Still, it can’t match your audacity to push megastructures at this time…”

“Hahaha…”

“Hehehe…”

…So annoying.

Maybe because both spend their days split between research and fencing with Sinister Organizations, Chubu’s nonsense matched Yekase blow for blow. Someone actually kept pace with her in the art of polite air. Yekase had thought Chubu would be an easy mark: a head-down researcher, blind to games.

She didn’t know Chubu thought the same of her.

Chubu watched Flash Energy, yes, but her impression of Yekase had stalled at that Feynman salute of public insolence—socially inept, loud, feral. Yet every compliment came back wrapped, right foot stepping left, climbing the sky.

Their first probing round ended in mutual flattery so thick both felt embarrassed, like fans stuck to wet paper.

“—Then I’ll cut to it.”

Chubu’s tone sharpened, steel under silk.

“Mm.”

“The Machine God King lacks combat data. I pushed development this far on interest alone. But if it can deter Japan’s Sinister Organizations, let them mind themselves, that’s fine. So, I invite you to pilot ‘Luciferin’ and fight me in Tokyo Bay, a simulated battle—I’ll cap the power to safe values.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Chubu Planetary Tech will become your firmest partner. In truth, we’re ready to build semi-permanent interstellar lanes and develop Mars at scale—we only need a moment to declare ourselves to the world. This battle will be that moment.”

“…………”

The scene tugged Yekase back to the day Alicia Alicia spoke of “romance” and “dreams,” words like kites pulling sky.

Yekase doesn’t fear strong foes or hard trials. She fears possibility dressed as promissory notes. Be used a few more times, willingly, and she might lose the courage to look toward the future with strangers.

“…It’s a tempting proposal.”

She watched the halo above Chubu’s head, moon-smooth, and after a long breath spoke again. “As a deposit, I want two pieces of information.”

“Please.”

“First, what is that halo?”

“This is the final piece of the ‘Star Relic’ series—the ‘Stellar Crown.’ Think of it as a portable quantum computer.”

An external brain…

True. A seven-mech combination won’t run on autopilot alone. The pilot must join the dance. When Yekase spread Infinite Force Perception across Soville City, she nearly burned her mind. Chubu bringing a computer to share load made sense.

“I see. The second question.”

Yekase leaned forward, forearms on her knees, chin raised, an invasive posture like a hunting cat.

“—Where is Akano Souu, right now?”