"When the past refuses to die, it fractures the future."
The rain hammered relentlessly on the reinforced canopy of the safe house's makeshift shelter. Inside, the air was thick with tension and antiseptic smell. Koharu lay curled on a metal cot, pale and sweating despite the cool air. A tangle of monitoring devices attached to her skin beeped softly, tracing every shallow breath and spike of fever.
Rentarō sat nearby, restless, his eyes never leaving her frail form. Beside him, Kisara poured over data streaming from field scanners, while Enju and Hotaru maintained a guarded silence, visibly shaken by the encounter at the forest edge.
Shōma Nagisawa stood apart, leaning on his sheathed katana, his expression unreadable but sharp, like a blade honed to an edge. He had kept Koharu alive after the Aldebaran War, saved by Grunewald's intervention, but he carried scars deeper than flesh.
Kisara tapped the screen again. "Her vitals are unstable. The fever's been rising for two hours straight. Something inside her is reacting—immune response, but it's not normal."
Rentarō's jaw clenched. "Is it Gastrea-related?"
"Indirect," Kisara replied, voice clipped. "Her biology… it's been altered beyond any known Gastrea infection pattern. The integration between her and the parasite is symbiotic but volatile. She's communicating with the Gastrea, yes—but it's like a two-way channel, not just control."
Enju leaned forward. "She's part Gastrea, but not cursed? More like… a bridge."
"Exactly," Kisara said. "A cursed child with the ability to interface directly with Gastrea minds. That's unprecedented. It's what makes her so valuable—and dangerous."
Rentarō shook his head. "And why does Grunewald want her so badly?"
Kisara's eyes darkened. "Because she could be the key to the New World Creation Plan."
The words sent a cold ripple through the room.
Shōma stepped forward, voice low but firm. "I owe him nothing. Grunewald saved me once—but at a cost. Koharu is a tool to them, a weapon. But she's still a child."
Rentarō's gaze locked with Shōma's. "Do you trust her? Koharu?"
Shōma hesitated, then nodded. "She's no puppet. I've seen the fight inside her. But she's frightened—more than anyone here."
Enju frowned. "Then why does she keep calling you 'master'? And why is she so connected to the Gastrea?"
Shōma's hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. "I trained her in the Tendo style before the Aldebaran War. She has a natural affinity, but what's inside her now… that's something else entirely."
A sudden, soft knock at the door startled them. Kisara moved to open it.
Seitenshi stepped inside, her white uniform immaculate despite the weather. Her eyes locked on Rentarō, a mixture of concern and something deeper—something vulnerable.
"Rentarō," she said quietly. "How is she?"
Before Rentarō could answer, Seitenshi's voice caught on a breathless sigh. "You've been pushing yourself too hard. You're not alone in this."
He looked away, conflicted.
Seitenshi stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I… I want to help. Not just as your protector, but as something more."
Rentarō's heart pounded, but he didn't meet her gaze. "I can't, Seitenshi. There's too much at stake. I don't have room for… that."
She nodded slowly, sadness flickering across her face. "I understand. But I won't stop trying."
The silence lingered until Koharu's weak voice broke through.
"Rentarō…"
He moved to her side, gently brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead.
"What is it, Koharu?"
She blinked slowly, eyes glazed but focusing. "They're coming. The Gastrea. The ones that want to protect me. And the ones that want to end me."
Rentarō's brows furrowed. "Who?"
"Both sides. I'm the fault line. The fracture."
Koharu's voice was barely audible now.
Later that night, Rentarō sat alone on the rooftop, staring out at the city lights, rain still falling in sheets. The weight of command, of lives dependent on his choices, pressed down like a stone.
Seitenshi approached quietly, standing beside him.
"Do you think you'll ever be able to let someone in?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I can't afford distractions. Not now. Not when everything we've fought for is on the line."
She hesitated, then whispered, "I won't give up on you."
Their eyes met for a brief, fragile moment.
Morning brought no relief.
Koharu's fever worsened. Kisara and Shōma debated possible interventions.
"We might have to isolate the Gastrea interface," Kisara said grimly. "But it could kill her."
Shōma's jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice."
Rentarō's voice was steady. "Prepare the isolation chamber."
As they worked, Grunewald's words echoed in Rentarō's mind.
The convergence has begun.
What did that mean for them all?
Outside, the city continued unaware of the storm gathering beneath its surface. The fragile peace balanced on a razor's edge.
Rentarō vowed silently: whatever the cost, he would protect those under his care—even if it meant standing alone.