They departed from the plaza before dawn. 　Kirihara Setsuna recalled the announcement from three months ago. Four faces gathered in front of the administrative building. The warmth of Shuna's hand gripping her right hand. Enyu Raika's single word—"I'm coming too"—with no reason behind it. Tooyama Kei's quiet voice, maintaining his composure as a diplomat: "Please allow me to accompany you." 　Today was that day. 　The recovery team led by Garulf, director of the Memorial Management Bureau—roughly ten people—walked along a narrow path leading into the deepest sector of the southern scorched zone. The stone pavement had long since ended; beneath their feet lay blackened, charred earth. With each step, fine ash rose and caught in the back of the nose. The smell of char, of soil on the verge of decay, and something heavy and viscous in the air itself. Evidence that magical essence was pooling here. 　Setsuna walked near the front of the line. 　The early morning light was thin, as if it had washed away all color from the scorched zone. Black earth. Gray sky. Broken trees jutted from the ground like skeletal remains. 　The other recovery workers stopped. Some had lost their voices. The sight was that overwhelming. 　Garulf pushed the rim of his glasses upward and spoke low. "[serious]The estimated number of unrecovered items is over two hundred. We'll divide the sector into thirds and advance from the nearest section." 　Only Setsuna was already moving. 　She pulled on the recovery worker's gloves with both hands, tucked a bundle of cloth under her arm, and turned her feet toward the deepest sector. Without hesitation. If she hesitated, she felt something would crumble before she could go any further. 　Both her hands were trembling. 　Inside the gloves, her fingertips shook in small, rapid movements. She couldn't stop it. For three months, voices that had echoed back from this place had haunted the depths of her ears. Today they were especially close. Voices calling for help. Voices calling out comrades' names. And at the very end—voices that fell silent. 　Setsuna clenched her back teeth and reached for the first piece of rubble. ＊ 　An hour had passed. 　She recovered three items. Recorded them in the ledger. Moved on to the next one. The same cycle repeated. Her movements as a recovery worker were precise, emotion nowhere to be found. Because she knew that if she let it show, she wouldn't be able to stop. 　She noticed Kei's approach not by the sound of gravel, but by the way the shadow's angle changed. 　The silver-haired diplomat stepped one pace closer to Setsuna's side. Odd eyes of gold and silver looked at her hands as she worked, then at her face. Kei had no position to assist with recovery, coming here under the pretext of inspection. And yet he wanted to do something—that will moved his feet forward. "[gentle]……You don't have to push yourself so hard." 　His voice was low and quiet. There was no malice in it. Overwhelmed by the weight of this place, yet still trying to stand beside Setsuna—it was the diplomat's own form of sincerity. 　Raika turned around. 　Deep crimson vertical-slit pupils fixed directly on Kei. Black hair with red streaks, tousled short hair. The 185-centimeter frame stood there, bearing the gray sky of the scorched zone on his shoulders. "[angry]What would you know?" 　His voice was low, but its edge was sharp. Kei turned. Receiving the raw anger in Raika's gaze, his expression froze for a moment. "[serious]Don't speak so carelessly, you who weren't on the battlefield." 　He tried to object. Kei's lips moved slightly. But the pressure of Raika's words—that overwhelming force that only those who had fought together possessed, something that came from the ground itself—forced him to swallow his words. Kei bit his lip and fell silent. 　That silence only justified Raika's anger further. 　Shuna stepped between the two. Her pale purple long hair swayed in the wind. Silver eyes looked at Raika quietly, yet firmly. "[serious]We're in the middle of work right now. Please calm down——" "[angry]You too." 　The moment Raika's blade turned toward Shuna, the air changed. "[angry]You were in the government building, just staring at battle maps. Just counting how many died." 　The color drained from Shuna's face. 　She couldn't object. That was the most painful part. During the great war, Shuna had not been on the front lines. In the government building, she had managed the war situation while moving markers on maps. That fact didn't change. Raika's words pierced her not because they were lies—but because they were accurate. 　Shuna stood with her mouth open, unable to say anything. 　A crack ran between the three of them—one that might not be repairable. 　Setsuna heard it all on her back. She didn't stop her hands. If she stopped, she felt the entire reason for continuing this work would crumble. Move the rubble. Confirm the items. Wrap them in cloth. She continued only that. ＊ 　Beneath deeply buried rubble, a scrap of cloth was visible. 　Setsuna knelt and reached her arm down. The corner of a stone pressed against her elbow. She hooked it with her fingertips and slowly pulled it out. The cloth came away, fraying and decaying. From within, a folded piece of paper emerged. 　A sealed letter, covered in mud and blood, exposed to three months of wind and rain. 　It was blackened. Most of its surface was clogged with mud. She tried to open it, but the wax seal, stuck fast with blood and mud, wouldn't come loose. 　And yet—the moment she saw the faint handwriting remaining on the right edge. 　Setsuna's hands stopped. 　She recognized it. This distinctive way of forming characters. The unique habit of the stroke endings. This angle of the flourish. （……Your handwriting.） 　That back she had last seen in this place three months ago. The back that wouldn't turn around no matter how she called. 　She tried to trace the surface of the letter with her fingertips. The mud had dried and hardened; the characters were barely legible. She couldn't understand the contents. No matter how hard she strained her eyes, she couldn't reach the words beneath the mud. 　She couldn't hear the voice. 　Even today, she couldn't reach the final words. 　Setsuna's knees folded without a sound. 　Both knees touched the earth. Pressing the sealed letter against her chest with both hands, she became unable to move. The mud-covered paper warmed slightly against her body heat, even through the gloves. 　The three of them noticed and began to approach. 　In that instant—the ground let out a low groan. 　The air changed. The magical essence that had hung heavy and viscous suddenly began to concentrate rapidly, and the earth in one corner of the scorched zone swelled upward. ＊ 　A shadow exceeding three meters rose from the rubble. 　A mid-tier magical beast—an aberration born when pooled magical essence became a catalyst. Black outer skin, multiple limbs, multiple eyes that swallowed light. The other recovery workers cried out and retreated. Garulf shouted orders to withdraw. 　Raika drew his blade. 　But his head was not yet cool. The anger toward Kei, the words toward Shuna, the silence that followed—it all still burned in his body. His first strike only scraped the beast's outer skin. The return claw was coming—there was no time. 　Zashuu. Cloth tore, skin split. 　Red seeped from Raika's flank. Not deep. But not shallow either. Pain twisted his face. Yet Raika didn't retreat. He gritted his teeth and raised his sword again. 　Shuna placed her hands on the ground and deployed a barrier. 　A membrane of light surrounding Setsuna, still on both knees. The mid-tier beast's pressure made the barrier's edge creak. Sweat beaded on Shuna's face. All her concentration was devoted to maintaining it; she had no capacity for attack. And yet—she would not release her grip on protecting Setsuna. 　Kei had no sword. Diplomats had no combat ability. He picked up a fragment of rubble from the ground, but what could he do against a mid-tier magical beast with that—he already knew. Yet he couldn't let it go. The fact that he could only stand there, unable to do anything else, weighed heavily in Kei's chest. 　The exhaustion continued. Five minutes—or perhaps longer. 　Raika wrung out his last strength. He ignored the wound in his flank and stepped forward. One step, then another. He thrust straight at the beast's center—the glowing point that was its core. 　Gusha. A wet sound. 　The beast collapsed. Its black outer skin dissolved like sand, spreading across the scorched earth. Silence returned. 　Raika dropped to one knee. His hand pressed against his flank, and red continued to seep slowly from beneath it. ＊ 　Shuna released the barrier. She tried to rush to Raika, and in that moment— "[whispers]……I was protected again." 　Her voice was hoarse. Still on both knees, still clutching the sealed letter to her chest. It was a small voice, but in the silence of the scorched zone, all three heard it clearly. 　No one moved. 　Setsuna's voice continued. "[sad]Someone was hurt again. Because of me." 　It wasn't a murmur. It was a voice carrying three months of weight. 　Raika tried to stand. He opened his mouth to say something. 　Setsuna stood up. The trembling in her hands had stopped. In its place, her voice began to crack. "[serious]Don't come near me anymore." 　She looked at all three. Shuna, Raika, Kei. One by one, in order. "[crying]Everyone who gets involved with me gets hurt. Everyone—dies." 　Shuna tried to call her name. "Setsuna——" 　It was too late. 　Setsuna turned on her heel. Clutching the sealed letter. Not in the direction where the other recovery workers had evacuated—but deeper into the scorched zone. Toward the direction where broken trees grew dense and light couldn't reach. She ran. 　Raika tried to follow. The wound in his flank stopped the body that tried to move. Pain made his knees waver. Even gritting his teeth, his legs wouldn't obey. 　Shuna took two steps running—then stopped. 　When she turned back, Raika was on his knees, pressing his flank. Her body wouldn't let her leave the wounded man behind. Shuna couldn't run any further. 　Kei was in the best condition to run. He took one step toward the direction Setsuna had disappeared. But—the small back was no longer visible among the rubble and charred trees. 　Only the three of them and the remains of the collapsed beast were left in the scorched zone. 　Blood from Raika's flank fell onto the earth. 　Shuna's hand grasped at empty air, catching nothing. 　Kei simply stared in the direction she had vanished. The slight smile that usually played at his lips was gone now. His gold and silver eyes looked into the depths of the scorched zone. The black earth, the broken trees, and the darkness that continued beyond—it swallowed Setsuna whole. 　Only the wind passed between the three of them. 　In the depths of the scorched zone, beyond the reach of light, Setsuna was alone. Clutching the mud-covered sealed letter to her chest, where she was heading, the three could not know. Raika couldn't move. Shuna couldn't move. Kei hadn't made it in time. Between the three of them, the crack that Raika's words had drawn still remained. No one had yet repaired it.