The notification from the Federal Assembly arrived at seven fourteen in the morning. Sensei was in the Schale headquarters office, barely touching the bread he'd bought from Totem the night before, staring at the large monitor. He hadn't slept. Three hours, maybe four at most. He'd tossed and turned all night thinking about Gehenna, and eventually given up, rising from the sofa. Ever since Hoshino's device burned out, a kind of haze had settled over his mind. That footage—Nagisa standing alone in the ruins, that smile far too quiet—kept flashing back unbidden. He didn't even have to try to remember it; it came to him on its own. The screen flickered. The Federal Assembly's official seal. Sensei set down the bread and stood up. He read it. He read it again. Once more, he read it. The contents were three points. ① Immediate early termination of the emergency declaration. ② Sixty percent reduction in Schale activity budget. ③ Partial suspension of advisory authority based on biased judgment toward a specific academy—immediate revocation of access rights to Gehenna General Academy. In other words, from this very moment, Sensei could no longer set foot in the Gehenna district. Schale's functions were drastically curtailed. Eight days of commuting, and just yesterday he'd finally felt like he was getting a little closer—all of it—gone in a single notice. Sensei stood motionless before the screen for a while. He didn't feel like hitting the desk. Didn't feel like shouting. His hands simply fell slowly to his lap. Scanning his eyes across the notice, the last line caught his attention. —Note: Following the issuance of this notice, expense applications for the first-floor convenience store "Totem" will continue to be accepted. "……" Sensei read that for a second. Then, as if all strength had drained from him, he let out a small laugh. Whether a Federal bureaucrat had written it or it was just something left over at the end of an auto-generated document by chance. Either way, it was too stupid. But the laugh faded quickly. He looked out the window. The sky over the Gehenna district was cloudy today too. —————— During the morning, Sensei tried to look up how to apply for authority restoration. He accessed the Federal Student Council portal, opened the objection form, typed one line, and stopped. The grounds were thin. Emotion wouldn't move them. If he had the evidence of conspiracy—that data the Hoshino device had failed to capture—things would be different. But the device had burned. He was stuck. He drank the lukewarm coffee and looked at the screen again, and his hands stopped again. After repeating that loop a few times— The Schale door burst open. "[angry]Sensei! You're here, right?!" A Gehenna discipline committee member with a familiar armband came in. Kuroto, Nagisa's direct subordinate. Short black hair. Broad shoulders. Her expression was always stern, but today it was twice as angry. Several others followed her in. Sensei tried to stand, but Kuroto started talking before he could. "[angry]Because you kept showing up halfway, the Federation started saying Gehenna's autonomy principle was being violated. Do you understand? What's happening to Committee Chair Nagisa's position right now?" "……Tell me." "[angry]The Federation interpreted Schale's repeated visits to Gehenna as pressure. They're using the academy autonomy principle—the principle that other academies and the Federation can't intervene in Gehenna's internal affairs—as a pretext, saying your actions violated it. The Chair is dealing with the fallout from that right now. Because of you." Sensei had nothing to say. Those eight days of commuting had been eroding Nagisa's political position. The action he'd taken meaning to apologize had become a tool to hurt her. Every time he tried to move in a good direction, someone else got hurt worse. "[cold]You shouldn't have come in the first place." It was a quiet voice. Lower than Kuroto's, and because of that, it cut deeper. Karen was looking straight at Sensei. The same Karen who'd bluntly put a bandage on him last week. Her eyes were cold. Not angry—somehow, as if she'd already switched to cutting ties. "[cold]The Chair is hurting because of adult circumstances that have nothing to do with us." Sensei opened his mouth. He tried to say something. But the words wouldn't come. It wasn't that he couldn't find words to object. The right objection simply didn't exist. Kuroto and the others rattled off their piece, then left in silence. The door closed. The office was quiet again. Sensei gripped the edge of the desk with both hands and stayed like that for a while. —————— Evening came. The western light slanted through the office blinds, casting thin shadows on the floor. Sensei sat on the sofa, staring at the wall. The door was knocked on quietly this time. "[serious]……It's open." Nagisa stood in the open doorway. Her uniform was neat. The short sword at her waist was in its usual place. But under her eyes—there were faint shadows. It was obvious at a glance that she hadn't been sleeping properly these past few days. Nagisa didn't move from the doorway. She didn't come in. From that distance, she looked at Sensei. "[cold]Every time you come, my position gets worse." Her voice was quiet. Not angry. Not suppressing anger—just tired. "[cold]The Federation is using your repeated visits as a weapon. As evidence of intervention. So please. Don't ever come again." The word "please" fell right into the center of Sensei's chest. Not a command. A plea. He remembered the moment in the third episode when Nagisa silently threw the first aid kit at him. This was completely different. Now Nagisa had gone somewhere deeper than anger or resignation. Sensei stood up and tried to say something. "[serious]I hate the idea of Nagisa being alone. In that ruin—" "[cold]I understand your feelings." Nagisa spoke first. "[cold]But right now, that's too heavy for me." With just that, she turned on her heel. Started to leave. "[serious]Nagisa." He called her name. Even he was surprised at how naturally it came out. Nagisa's footsteps stopped. Just for a moment. Her shoulders moved slightly. Sensei had no words to follow. There was a reason he'd called out. But he couldn't find the words to express that reason. Nagisa left as she was. The sound of the door closing echoed through the office, unnaturally loud. Sensei stared at the closed door for a while. —————— Night fell. Sensei didn't turn on the office lights. The room's outline was barely visible in the light coming through the blinds from the streetlamps. On the desk lay Gehenna's damage reports. The charred remains of Hoshino's device. A printout of the authority suspension notice. The revised budget. All of it was there. All of it had become meaningless. Sensei sat down on the floor. He leaned his back against the wall and hugged his knees. He couldn't go. Couldn't move. The closer he got, the more he hurt her. The footage the device had shown came again. Nagisa standing alone in the ruins. That quiet laugh: "I guess no one was coming after all." That face that had simply confirmed that someone she'd never expected to come hadn't come, just as expected. Sensei wrapped his head in both hands. "[sad]……Why" It was barely a voice. More like a breath taking shape than words. Not crying. Not shouting. Just hugging his knees in the darkness. The kind of silence where readers would think "it's over." He didn't know how long he sat like that. Then— Something on the desk glowed. Just for an instant, he thought. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks. But it glowed. Sensei looked up. It glowed again. Small, blinking. He approached the desk. In the remains, there was a charred circuit board. Hoshino's device. The battery should have been dead long ago, yet one corner of the circuit board was barely alive. The access lamp was blinking faintly. Sensei carefully moved the remains aside. Underneath, a small data chip. The device itself was completely dead, but this chip alone was barely functioning. He pulled out the chip. Placed it in his palm. Smaller than a fingernail. When he touched it lightly with his fingertip, the access lamp responded again. "……" Sensei connected it to the terminal on the office desk. It took a few seconds to load. Then text appeared on the screen. —Final data log—remaining file confirmed. Encrypted. Analysis impossible (specialized key required). One file remained. Hoshino's device had captured something just before it burned out. It was encrypted, and Sensei couldn't read its contents. But—he checked the file's timestamp. The time from that day. The night when Trinity and Gehenna were attacked simultaneously. Sensei stared at the screen. He remembered what Hoshino had said in the fourth episode. That she'd check if anything was left in the device's data. The device had burned. But the chip had survived. And there—encrypted in it—was one file. It might be communication records from that simultaneous attack. It might be evidence of conspiracy. Sensei closed his hand around the chip. He had no authority. Couldn't enter Gehenna. Schale's budget was cut sixty percent. Nagisa told him not to come. Karen told him he shouldn't have come in the first place. But this chip had something. In the darkness, for the first time tonight, light returned to Sensei's eyes. A small light, but real. Sensei opened Hoshino's contact. It was past ten at night. Still, he didn't hesitate to send a message. —"You awake? We need to talk. One chip survived." The reply came in three seconds. —"I'm up!!! Can I come over right now??" Sensei laughed a little. Just a little. But he definitely laughed. He stood up. Turned on the lights. The fluorescent bulbs flickered on with their usual stupid white brightness. He had no authority. But in his hand, he had the next move. For tonight, that was enough.