Inside the command bridge of New Chaldea’s Storm Border, the pale glow of the central light screen cast a heavy, suffocating pall over the vast space.
The ambient hum of the vessel’s engines seemed muted, swallowed by a deep stillness.
Across the sweeping instrument panels, indicator lights flickered in a sporadic rhythm, painting the solemn room in cold, clinical hues.
Fujimaru Ritsuka stood rooted before the main console.
His fingertips hovered a mere half-inch above the holographic keys, trembling imperceptibly.
His gaze remained locked onto the cascading streams of data and fragmented images playing across the monitor.
For a long time, he did not move.
His lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.
He kept his breathing shallow, as if exhaling too loudly might shatter the fragile silence lingering in the air.
“…” Minutes bled away before he finally forced a breath through his teeth.
His voice emerged stiff, weighed down by an unmistakable melancholy.
“…As I thought.
We really have to bid farewell to the Avengers…” He lowered his eyes.
His gaze settled on the dark, elongated shadow stretching out from his boots.
The darkness pooled there felt denser than usual, heavy with an inseparable, suffocating gloom.
His throat bobbed.
He asked a question to which he already knew the cruel answer.
“King of the Cavern…
that guy Alter spoke of…
it’s you, isn’t it?” The shadow did not ripple.
It offered no movement, no comforting whisper of a crimson-eyed phantom.
Only a suffocating silence stretched between the Master and his unseen guardian.
Ritsuka stared at the motionless darkness, his brow knitting together.
The conflict he had tried so desperately to bury surged back to the surface, etching lines of raw pain across his face.
“Does it really have to come to this?” he asked, his voice fracturing.
He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his knuckles turning white as he fought to suppress the rising tide of emotion.
“Is this the only way to prove our innocence to the Human Order?” A deathly quiet was his only reply.
Yet, in that absolute absence of sound, Ritsuka seemed to find his answer.
He closed his eyes.
His long lashes cast faint shadows over his cheeks, hiding the bitter resignation pooling in his gaze.
When his eyelids fluttered open again, the vulnerability was gone, locked away behind a wall of forced iron.
He straightened his spine, inch by agonizing inch, bracing his shoulders to bear the crushing weight of the inevitable farewell.
Half a step behind him, Mash Kyrielight watched in silence.
Her pristine Chaldea uniform remained crisp, but it did nothing to mask the deep anxiety written across her features.
Seeing the rigid tension in her senior’s profile, her hands quietly gathered the fabric of her skirt, gripping it tight.
Her lips parted.
She hesitated, before finally letting out a soft, cautious call.
“…Senpai.” The sound of her voice made Ritsuka’s shoulders drop a fraction of an inch.
He turned slowly, pasting a faint, reassuring smile onto his face.
The crushing disappointment vanished from his eyes, replaced by a carefully crafted calm.
“I’m fine now, Mash.” “Phew…
that’s good.” Mash let out a long, shaky breath.
The heavy stone of dread that had been lodged in her throat finally dissolved.
Her tense posture relaxed, and the worried crease between her brows smoothed out.
Beside them, Da Vinci Lily raised a delicate hand to adjust the gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.
A flash of genuine surprise, mingled with a rare gravity, passed through her indigo eyes.
Her tone carried its usual flamboyant lilt, yet a serious undercurrent anchored her words.
“Oh my, this is quite the bombshell.
Is this truly how the Human Order demands we handle the Avenger class?” The moment she finished, Sion Eltnam Sokaris chimed in with flawless timing.
She leaned casually against the edge of the control console, her posture loose and unbothered.
One hand rested near her temple, her fingertips idly tapping the frame of her own glasses.
Despite her relaxed demeanor, a deep, calculating thoughtfulness sharpened her gaze.
She stared at a corner of the light screen, enunciating every word with deliberate care.
“Then, how will the other Extra classes be handled?
Ruler, Alter Ego, Moon Cancer…
and Foreigner.” Her voice hung in the air, thick with anticipation for the unknown trials ahead.
Somewhere else, Jeanne d’Arc Alter could no longer muster an ounce of her usual fiery pride.
The bashful embarrassment she had felt only moments ago was entirely washed away by a cold, paralyzing shock.
She stood frozen before the broadcast screen, her golden eyes locked onto the devastating scene of separation playing out.
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.
The aggressive, burning aura that usually surrounded her completely stalled, as if her very mind had short-circuited.
The image of Ritsuka’s farewell echoed endlessly in her vision.
It took a long time for her to snap out of the trance.
When she finally spoke, her voice was so fragile it threatened to scatter on the wind, carrying a bitter, hollow confusion.
“…I understand.
To the Master, perhaps I am just an existence like a bubble’s dream.
One day, he will have to leave my side.
But…” She choked on the words.
Her throat tightened, blocked by a heavy, suffocating lump.
A suppressed sob fractured her breathing.
Tears welled up hot and fast in her golden eyes, blurring her vision, yet she stubbornly refused to let a single drop fall.
Her fingernails dug ruthlessly into her palms, turning her knuckles a stark, bone-white.
“…I really, really don’t want to let go.” She looked down at her empty hands.
The moisture in her eyes gleamed brighter.
A self-deprecating, airy laugh escaped her lips, masking a bone-deep, agonizing loneliness.
“But, even though I have no attachments…” She lifted her head, her gaze fixing onto the image of Ritsuka’s back.
A storm of complex emotions swirled in her chest.
“No hometown to return to.
No schools I’ve attended.
No family, no friends…
I have absolutely nothing.
Whatever happens to me, I don’t care.” She slowly turned her head, looking past the screen toward the vast, silent sea of stars outside the window.
Her voice dropped to a phantom whisper, a desperate attempt to convince her own bleeding heart.
“Whatever happens to the surface of the earth is fine.
Whether it all burns to ash or gets wiped into a blank sheet of paper, it doesn’t matter.
I don’t care about any of it.” She paused.
Her gaze drifted back to the boy on the screen.
The crushing isolation in her eyes melted, replaced by an overwhelming, tragic softness.
Her tone lost all its jagged edges, leaving only total understanding and a willing, heartbreaking concession.
Her eyes were rimmed red, but her voice steadied with absolute conviction.
“But…
Master is different.
He has things he must take back.” “…Places he wants to return to…
people he desperately wants to see.
He can’t afford to lose any of those things.” She stared at his back, a bitter, gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Every word dripped with a quiet, suppressed resolve.
“That’s just the kind of person he is.
So, I can only…” Setting aside the Dragon Witch’s obvious grief for a moment, the central light screen suspended above the Storm Border’s bridge began to shift.
The heavy, oppressive white glow softened into a warm, inviting hue.
The pulsing streams of data rearranged themselves into a completely new format.
It was immediately clear that the upcoming broadcast would be entirely different from the heart-wrenching farewell they had just witnessed.
Several lines of striking text slowly faded into view across the monitor.
The handwriting was elegant, carrying a faint trace of warmth that reflected in the eyes of everyone watching.
[Inventory of High-Purity MasterLove: Jalter Side Story] The title lingered on the screen for a few seconds before a supplementary explanation materialized beneath it, word by word, setting the stage for the narrative to come: [This is a record of the past.
A story taking place after Jeanne d’Arc Alter was defeated in the First Singularity, but before she was officially summoned by Chaldea as an Avenger—chronicling the hidden time she spent by Fujimaru Ritsuka’s side.] [Akarin’s Note: Enjoying the story?