“All it can do is struggle within its shell – now the only evidence of the life granted to it…”

“So like, I gave it to her straight, told her it didn’t add up cause she was the one who hung up first. I mean, she did, right? …Hey, Touka, are you even listening?”

“Huh?”

Three high-school girls in a cafeteria were chatting over tea. One of them was looking away, preoccupied with the street outside.

“Whoops, sorry,” said the girl, sticking her tongue out and winking to her friends.

“What’s up? Anything interesting out there?”

Another friend, who was fed up with the rambling, followed Touka’s gaze.

“Nah, nothing like that. I was just kinda thinking about how there’s so many people outside.”

“Riiight,”  one friend said sullenly, whose story, she felt, had been rudely interrupted. But the other chimed in.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s swarming with people. I wonder where they all sprang up from?”

Her friend had been whining about unrequited love for so long, she wasn’t sure how to tell her that it was getting annoying, so she was happy for any change of topic.

“I see all these people, more than you could ever count, and it gets me wondering. About their families, friends, lovers… Kinda dizzying when you think about it, right?”

“Uhh, okay? ”

“No, I kind of get that. Like, even if I’m really hurting from a broken heart or whatever, everyone’s got stuff like that on their plate. In fact, it’s not even a big deal or anything to them, right? But then, people like us, we’re just ‘high-school girls’ to them. They think we’re these ditzy, braindead airheads.”

“I guess they think we just don’t have a care in the world, huh.”

“Sometimes I feel like yelling, ‘Yeah? You wanna change places then?!’ Life’s hard enough for us as it is.”

“Maybe there are just too many people, and they don’t have time to be dealing with others on a personal level?”

“Yeah, but even when everyone’s throwing around this idea of high-school girls, you almost never find anyone who fits into that dumb girl stereotype. Even in class, there’s what, two or three? Why’s it have to be that way?”

“Maybe because people like that are the ones that stand out on TV? What do you think, Touka?”

The two friends turned to Touka, and then their faces froze.

“…………”

Touka Miyashita’s expression had transformed. She was staring intently at the street outside, with eyes as cold as ice.

“That’s…”

A faint voice slipped from her lips. It was a voice that sounded vaguely like a boy’s, and yet something about it was hard to place.

The one who had darted down the street outside just then was a scruffy  boy by the name of Motoki Sanpei.

“Haaah, haaah, haaah…”

As he fled, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the whole world had become his enemy. Motoki Sanpei had been wandering the streets, faint with hunger.

What was the deal with those cops?

They’d suddenly started shrieking, then gave up on him and ran off, like they were on drugs or something. Even cops were into that now? This city was in a real bad state if true. Though he hadn’t known very much about it until now…

In his current frame of mind, he was starting to get the feeling that the people passing by were all highly dangerous individuals. They seemed perfectly ordinary, but this salaryman, and that lady going out shopping, and that lovely-dovey couple… What if they all belonged to some dodgy organization, hiding pistols, or knives, or shady drugs in their pockets?

 “Urggh…”

Sanpei wandered the streets in a cold sweat, almost—no, truly—believing that the bustling street was filled with suspicious people. Really, what was he supposed to do now? He’d almost been taken in by the police, yet it didn’t seem like they had much in the way of dirt on him. Who could blame him if he was feeling extremely on edge?

Besides, I didn’t even steal anything…

And as a result, he wasn’t any closer to remedying his financial situation.

Shit. What do I do now…?

There wasn’t much he could do. He’d lost all confidence in his burglary skills. At this rate he was bound to die in a ditch somewhere nearby.

Goddamn it…!

He had to go back home. Prostrating himself before his father, quick to beat him, and his mother, quick to weep, was the one thing he was sure he couldn’t do, but at this point he didn’t have much choice.

“Urrgh, fuck it all…! Fuck my life…!” he swore, kicking away a can at his feet.

But he had forgotten one thing: that luck was not at all on his side. That if the dice of fate called chance were to exist, his rolls would always be terrible.

So just when the empty can had hit the wall, it bounced off and struck a passing boy.

“Ow! The hell’d you just do?!”

The boy turned to Sanpei, visibly angry. But Sanpei, too, was irritated.

“Shut up!” he retorted. The brat looked much smaller and punier than him.

But just after that, even the people walking ahead of the boy all turned at the same time toward Sanpei.

“…What’d you say?”

“Uh? There a problem?”

It was clear from their attitude that they were with the brat. Sanpei turned pale.

“You tryna blame us for something , punk?”

They started crowding around Sanpei—eight of them in all.

“Ah, no, that was, uh…”

Sanpei inched backward, then made a break for it. But the alley he’d dashed into was a dead end, and he was immediately cornered.

The gang of eight’s eyes were gleaming with malicious intent as they drew closer to Sanpei. The aura of violence they radiated was not the result of a conscious decision to be cruel , but due to being too young to know the meaning of restraint.

“U-uwah…!”

Sanpei’s mind went blank, unable to process what was happening. He’d only just been surrounded by cops, and now it was these guys? Was all this for real?

“Hey, dipshit. You just told us to shut up back there, didn’t you...?!”

The brat—the one Sanpei had kicked the can at—lifted him by the collar.

“Say it again, I dare you. Say it one more time!” he said, punching Sanpei in the nose as the words left his lips. And as blood spurted from his nose, Sanpei cried out from within.

They’re gonna kill me… It’s all over!

He truly thought it. And in that instant, the switch flipped on.

…Ten, nine, eight…

Honami Akiko, who’d come out as far as the downtown pedestrian precinct looking for Takashiro Tooru, could hardly believe her eyes. First,  a group of around eight or so young men had run past her, wailing in fear. Then everyone around her had started staring into space and muttering to themselves. Moments later, they’d suddenly begun screaming their lungs out and started running around.

“P-please help me!”

“I-I feel like I’m losing my mind!”

The things they were yelling didn’t make any sense.

“You wanna explain what’s going on here ?!” she barked at Embryo, whipping him out of her pocket.

[[…Eh, if I had to guess, I’d say a certain someone ‘broke through ’ and we’re seeing the side effects of that now,]] Embryo replied sullenly.

“Y-you mean… You’re saying this is your fault?!”

[[Hey, it’s not like I actually did anything… Someone probably ‘heard’ you and me talking, and that awakened the power sleeping within them. And seeing how not much time’s passed, betcha the lucky guy or gal probably doesn’t even know what’s going on, or that they even caused this in the first place. ‘Course, they haven’t killed me and showered themselves with energy, so it tracks that the power itself’s probably incomplete and going haywire.]]

“W-what are we supposed to do then?!”

Screaming echoed through the streets like static noise from a radio.

[[Ain’t much we can do. What’s done is done. Short of hunting down the culprit and beating ‘em to death or something, this ain’t stopping. Though you’d never find them in this total chaos, for starters.]]

“…Ah!”

[[You’ve already got your own power. Looks like you built up “antibodies” to this sort of phenomenon, so you’re not gonna end up in a state of panic, but…I can’t say the same for the folks around here. I wonder how long a human body can hold out in an abnormal state of agitation. There’s pretty much no recorded cases of someone ever dying from over-excitement. All you can do is speculate.]]

“D-dying…?”

What, everyone in the city? My god. Was this little egg-shaped “Embryo” thing really so dangerous?

Wh-what do I do…?

Amid this great wave of panic, Honami Akiko stood there in a daze, alone in the center of the road.

“…Huh?”

Sanpei, once again dumbfounded, looked on as the group ran off. Seriously, what was up with this city…?

“A-anyway, I better get the hell outta here…!”

Timorously, Sanpei stumbled out of the alleyway into the open…and then was struck speechless.

People were yelling and screaming, in an uproar all around him. It had spread throughout the city now, it seemed. He couldn’t even make out what they were saying at first, but straining his ears, it seemed to be…

“It’s the end of the world! We’re all doomed!”

“What?”

Sanpei’s jaw dropped. He didn’t understand the reason for their hysteria. It was, of course, because they’d been infected by his “Countdown.” The gang of eight who had run away had been spreading fear and panic to everyone they crossed paths with.

“What’s going on…? What’s gotten into everyone?”

It seemed that the longer he remained around the commotion, the calmer he was. This was to be expected, given that the nature of his power was to transfer his own confusion to those around him. But then it struck him.

Oh yeah… Maybe now…!

He wove between the people running all over the place on the road and snuck into a café. It was deserted inside—everyone had since fled. Only the sound of the cable broadcast rang emptily through the shop.

Once he’d checked the ceiling and walls for security cameras, he carefully began to take out fistfuls of cash from the register.

“Heh… Heh heh!”

And then he bolted like a frightened rabbit. And ran. And when he’d finally made it as far as a park with no one else in sight, he burst into laughter. He didn’t really know what was going on, but it looked like his luck hadn’t completely run out after all. At the eleventh hour, somehow things had finally started going his way. Or rather, everyone had run a-way.

He could think about that later. Right now, he had to try to stay calm and get a grasp of the situation.

“U-uhh… Ah!”

He glanced around to discover—again to his good fortune—that beside the park, in front of a taxi parking lot, was a cup ramen vending machine. They had his favorite, miso. He decided he’d use the money he’d just stolen to buy it. Even the way the change jingled out was somehow getting him emotional.

“Hah! This could be a hell of a lot worse !”

Getting excited for no reason all by himself, he brought the cup ramen filled with hot water to a park bench and waited three minutes. A faint music from somewhere afar carried on the wind. It was a cheerful tune, but unfortunately too faint to make out.

A lot of things went through Sanpei’s head as he waited.

Seriously though, did those guys run off cause they were on drugs? It kinda seemed too weird for that…

“Man, I wonder what happened? It wasn’t something I did, was it?”

He was muttering out loud as he thought, a habit he seemed to have picked up in the few days he’d spent away from home.

“Maybe I actually learned how to properly intimidate folk? I’ve really had it rough. Like, the guy who’s been through hell and back’s got this new menacing aura or something? Heheh!” He wasn’t serious, but the thought entertained him. “Maybe I really am hot shit, and the future’s got big things in store for me. Kehehehe!”

As he joked to himself, again came that faint music, like the sound of a flute playing, and he snapped back to reality.

Oh yeah, that should be about three minutes now, huh.

He split the disposable chopsticks he got from the vending machine and peeled open the cup lid. There was a silent moment of appreciation, and then, just as he was about to start slurping up the noodles, the music stopped.

“No. You no longer have any future to speak of.”

The voice came from behind him. Sanpei was so startled, he nearly spilled his ramen from fright.

“Whuh?!”

He spun around, but there was no one there. All that greeted him was the rustling of the park trees.

“…Hm?”

Was he hearing things? He strained his eyes to see, until again came the voice, from behind.

“It’s similar. Your power, and my existence…”

With a leap, he turned again. This time, the figure remained.

“In that the actor has no control over it. It happens automatically…and before you know it, it has floated to the surface. In those respects, we are perfectly alike. In the sense that both your power and mine emerge as a ‘bubble’ in response to the world…we are the same.”

Ahh. It was them.  Their expression was oddly asymmetrical, as if they were angry, or perhaps crying. And Sanpei already knew who it was. They wore a black hat that was like a pipe, and a black cloak…

“Y-you’re…”

There was black rouge upon their white face, as if it had risen to the surface. Man or woman, it was impossible to say. But there was no mistaking it—it was the shinigami he had seen that time on the street, the start of his run-in with bad luck.

“We are the same. And for that very reason…” Their top half swayed slightly. “I cannot let you escape. Now, while your potential is yet immature , I will put an end to this.”

The shinigami—some call them Boogiepop—slowly drew themselves toward Sanpei, as if their shadow was extending across the ground.

“Wah!”

Sanpei reflexively flung the contents of the cup ramen at them, but by that point they were no longer there. Suddenly, they were sailing through the air. His eyes tried to catch up, but the shinigami had already used a tree as a perch to jump in a different direction. He’d lost sight of them. The flurry of jumps echoed in the deserted park.

“Wh-what the hell’s with you? What in the fuck is going on…?!”

Sanpei seemed, for the third time, about to spiral into a state of total confusion . But in that exact moment, as if to strike at his weak point, he heard a voice.

{I’ll make a prediction: Your life will end in twenty seconds.}

“Wha-!”

That shook him. For some reason, numbers like “twenty” had a profound impact on him.

{Eighteen, seventeen…}

The genderless voice began its countdown.

“A-aiiee…!”

Sanpei tried to run, but as he did, there suddenly came a dry snap from the chopsticks in his hand. Something had sliced through the air and cut them in two. Aghast, he dropped them.

{Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve…}

The counting continued. With each passing number, more and more anxiety piled upon Sanpei like lead weights. There was no time for it to disperse.

He squealed meekly, desperately and aimlessly looking around, but the shinigami was nowhere to be seen. It had disappeared. And yet it most surely had its sights trained on him…

{Nine, eight…}

He heard a whish right by his ear. Something hot dripped onto his cheek, then trickled down his chin… It was blood. Part of his left earlobe had been sliced and was hanging off.

“W…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaughhhh!!!” he screamed in fear. It was a fear he’d never experienced before in his life. An absolute terror that so consumed him he even forgot where he was, as if the bottom of his mind had fallen out.

{Six, five, four…}

His head was spinning. He couldn’t think of anything at all. Didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t form an idea. There was nothing he could accomplish…

{Three…}

With a whip, his right earlobe, too, was slashed—more blood sprayed. But Sanpei didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t respond.

{Two…}

Somehow, there was only one image that had formed in his head. It was white, smooth, and oval.

An egg.

That’s right. It was that egg…

{One…}

He didn’t know how, but in that moment, he had reached the truth of the matter. It was the egg’s fault. In the heart of his confusion, he had broken through the fear that he’d believed all but absolute and formed a cohesive thought.

And then…

{Zero.}

As the voice whispered in his ear, he felt something touch the back of his neck. And then just like that, Sanpei’s consciousness was dragged into the murky darkness, gone.

It was something of a spectacle. There are a fair number of things for which one has words but rarely ever witnesses. But the situation at this moment could be summed up perfectly.

There is an expression: “As if a spirit had left them.” It’s used to refer to someone who snaps out of an activity they were deeply engrossed in, though rarely do you ever find such a radical case of someone coming to their senses in daily life. There’s always a lingering sense of something, a feeling of inertia practically every time.

Yet that very thing was what had happened to these people in that moment.

“…Huh?”

“Uh…”

All of a sudden, the fear and anxiety that had been filling everyone’s minds had vanished without a trace.

“…Why?”

They didn’t really understand why they’d been panicking so much in the first place. But it was clear that the feeling had at least disappeared, like a receding wave. It was as if the city, which had been filled with the people’s ear-splitting mayhem, had transformed. Perfect silence.

“Like a spirit had left them,” many thought, but few would reach the conclusion that this was, in actual fact, the case.

“…Looks like that’s the end of it.”

All was tranquil again. Among the crowd of bewildered faces, Honami Akiko breathed a sigh of relief.

[[Bad news—it looks like whoever started this didn’t manage to break their shell. Seems the power wore off. Or maybe they hit their head somewhere and snuffed it?]] grouched Embryo. [[Damn shame. With a riot like that, there was a good chance I coulda been smashed and died.]]

“Alright, enough of that for now. We have to find Tooru-san…”

[[Oh yeah? So we’ve gone from Takashiro-san to Tooru-san now, have we?]]

Embryo snickered. Akiko frowned but didn’t answer.

Though… If what just happened really was the fault of this egg thing…what am I supposed to do with it? she asked herself.

Should she smash it to pieces, the way it wanted…? She didn’t know why, but something inside her advised strongly against it. She had no idea why, but…

“Akiko-chan, there’s not a thing in this world that doesn’t hold value. No matter how awful it may be, it is, just by virtue of its existence, a possibility that might give rise to the future.”

…Again, Kyou-nii-chan’s words echoed in her head. It was strange. Ever since she met Embryo, she couldn’t stop thinking about the boy. He’d died so young…

She shook herself out of it and set out in the direction that a convoy of patrol cars were headed. Now that the people’s confusion had dispersed, she should be able to wave down a proper cab somewhere.

Indeed, she could not have known, but the confusion that “Countdown” had brought about was no more. This also meant that it had left the police, almost “as if a spirit had left them,” who were at this very moment launching their attack on Takashiro Tooru, Taniguchi Masaki and Pearl. And yet it wasn’t enough to bring the situation under control. In fact, it was quite the contrary…

“…………!”

I realized immediately that I'd been shot.

My body spun wildly and I fell to the ground like I’d been hit with a hammer. And yet... The fact that I knew what was happening proved that I hadn't taken all that much damage.

Where is it...? My shoulder? It’s just a graze.

I gauged the extent of the attack from the pain in my body. The bullet hadn't been a direct hit. It was just that the impact had had such a weight to it that I’d felt it all the way to my bones.

“Ngh…”

But why would they attack us out of the blue?

Straight after that, there came the roar of a hail of gunshots. Lying flat, I turned toward the sound. And as I did so, I witnessed the patrol car that Tooru and the others were in ignite.

“…What?!”

My eyes widened. Not because I was worried for their safety. On the contrary, what I saw was...

“……!”

Tooru could see them clearly.

Several lines that ran through the air. He knew them to be “lines of death ,” and that crossing them would spell the end. So even before the bullets had started to fly, he had swiftly embraced Pearl beside him—who was disguised as Honami Akiko—opened the door and jumped out.

The car exploded behind them, but Tooru and Pearl were already out of range of the blast, which forced its way through the vehicle’s cracks. They stood safely to its side in spite of the raging inferno , by which point Tooru had let go of Pearl and already moved onto his next action.

Tracing the lines that he could see, he moved into the blind spots of the police who were firing upon him. It was as if he were drawn to them, riding a course that carried him closer.

…The hell?

Taniguchi Masaki wasn't the only one who was surprised to see this. Pearl herself, who was right there by him, watched in disbelief.

What? Did he… What did he just do? Even I hadn’t…

It went without saying that even Pearl hadn’t considered the police squad would suddenly start firing indiscriminately. And Tooru should have had no way of knowing that. But now, it was as if he had seen through everything, his motions effortlessly fluid, dodging each and every attack and explosion that followed, and had even gone on the offensive...

I-is this…what Takashiro Tooru is capable of…?!

Tooru now held an iron bar , which appeared to have been lying at the edge of the construction site; he’d picked it up faster than she could process. He then went for a police officer who had lost sight of him and decided to emerge from the shadows .

“Wah?!”

The police were no longer gripped by fear and were therefore aware of the problematic nature of the actions they’d personally taken, but they made no attempt to flee. Instead, they set out trying to gauge the situation. And that was when the storm hit them.

Tooru’s iron bar had already struck four or five police officers, and was already heading for its next target.

“W-what?!”

But the police squad was not your average gang of punks or delinquents. They were trained professionals with knowledge and experience. Even with element of surprise, you could never finish them off all at once.

With a grunt, one officer blocked the bar with his baton. Tooru pivoted and drew away from them, seeking cover behind a lazily discarded pile of materials used for demolition work.

“Ah, shit!”

A handful of officers took aim at Tooru’s limbs and fired, but the hits didn’t land, instead rebounding ineffectually off the materials.

“Wait! Watch where you’re shooting ! You’ll hit a friendly!” barked the officer who had just endured Tooru’s attack—the squad leader.

He was highly trained and had even taught kendo and judo back at the precinct, so he knew. He knew that Takashiro Tooru was no ordinary man. He had to have been at least of dan rank, or perhaps higher.

Him, a deviant…? I find that hard to believe.

He knew it was an order from the top, but he had to admit its legitimacy was suspect.

Tooru concealed himself once more, but only to keep to their blind spots rather than to escape. Hearing a clatter behind him, the squad leader turned, readying his baton. Tooru was brandishing his iron bar, poised for the attack. He steeled himself, trying once more to block with his baton.

But then…something completely unbelievable happened.

The bar drew a sharp angle  in the air, as if it had known all along where the position of the blocking baton would be. Swerving around it by a hair’s breadth, the attack buried itself in the squad leader’s scapula.

“…Guh?!”

He was knocked to the ground, realizing that the bone had been fractured. The other officers panicked and tried to respond, but Tooru had taken a low stance and swept in an arc at their feet… Struck in the ankles, they all toppled over hopelessly.

Even as this occurred, Tooru remained in motion. He snatched the fallen squad leader by the collar and dragged him into the shadows.

“Hey! What’s this all about?!” he demanded.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Are you really cops? Or is this all one big setup?”

“…I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You started shooting your pistols right at us, so why are you practically firing warning shots now?!”

“…Ah!”

He’s figured out all that…?

The squad leader had now completely abandoned the possibility that a man like this had lost his capacity for rational judgment.

“No... That was-“

Just as he tried to respond, something alarmed Tooru—he leapt immediately to the side.

A cop who’d spotted them had fired on them. Tooru had pulled back even before the man had readied his aim. When the bullet scraped the tip of the squad leader’s nose, the man shrunk back, squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. By the time he’d reopened them, the battle had already moved to another location, the gunshots and clamor quickly receding.

What is this…? What’s happening?

It was evident that Tooru had gone easy on him. Normally, a blow like that could easily have bludgeoned him to death, yet he’d been let off with just a fracture. And now…it even seemed as if Tooru was retreating from the fight in an attempt to stop him from taking any stray bullets.

“…What in the hell is going on here?” he muttered vacantly. It was all he could do.

“Hey, report! What’s going on over there?! What’s the sitch?”

The other squad, who was meant to lure in the murderers and catch them in a pincer, had lost contact with the other side. What they couldn’t have known was that it was Pearl’s jamming device that was the cause of this. What they had realized, however, was that the other squad had apparently been forced to handle the situation on their own because the perps hadn’t arrived at the designated point. From the apparent smoke rising from the car, which had blown up, not to mention the gunshots they were hearing, this much was clear.

“We’ve gotta provide backup…”

But it was also true that law enforcement cannot act without direction from above. They hesitated.

“I say we rush in at once!”

“It’ll be too late by the time we get orders!”

“Mm… No other choice.”

But even then, though opinions were unanimous and they’d decided to act, they were unaware that no matter what they did now, it was too late.

None of them had noticed that to their rear, a car had at some point been parked on the road across the street. Inside it, a boy was lying low, hiding as he’d been instructed because it was dangerous outside and he mustn’t leave. Even if they had noticed…it wouldn’t have made any difference.

They heard the crunch of footsteps on rubble behind them, followed by an oddly serene voice.

“Hey… So what you’re saying is, Takashiro Tooru and his friends are over there?”

With a fright, the bloodthirsty police officers spun toward the sound of the voice.

He was grinning.

That was the first thing about him that struck them. He had pale purple clothes and was short of stature… Whichever way you looked at it, it was extremely clear that he couldn’t have been involved with the police. And yet, if you had to ask who he was…you’d almost be hard-pressed to find an answer. His odd smile didn’t look like that of an adult, but there was also assuredly something about him that suggested he was no child.

“W-who the hell are you?!”

“I’m in a good mood right now…” he answered, grinning, wholly dodging the question. And then he spread his hands wide. “You’re all so fortunate… It’s a very rare occasion for me not to kill those who stand in my path, so that I can focus on what comes next.”

He gave off an air of something surreal, as if his smirk was the only thing there, floating in space. But something about him prevented any of them yelling back and telling him not to play dumb.

“…………”

For the slightest instant, each and every one of the police officers were stunned silent. And then…it was over.

“Now, then…” he said, taking a step forward.

At his feet, the officers’ lay on the ground, rigid, mouths agape. The way they’d fallen, it was as if they were all in fact robots, as if their power had been switched off. The police were no longer even in his sights.

“It's been a while since I've had something to sink my teeth into… I'm looking forward to this…!”

And then his grin broadened further. By now it had crossed from the bizarre into something that could strike fear in the hearts of men.

Thus did the curtain rise on the first battle between Fortissimo and Inazuma.

The sky was rapidly darkening. Even the wind, which should have been relatively gentle, seemed to be growing more violent by the minute somehow. Soon, clouds shrouded the sky and the gentle patter of raindrops suddenly became a torrential downpour.

The building’s demolition site, its earth laid bare, was bad enough as it was. Now, it had assumed an awful marsh-like quality—a “quagmire.” It was a fitting way to describe the current predicament.

And through it, Tooru ran, splashing mud as he went. Many of the officers in pursuit also lost their footing and fell, but even blackened from head to toe and dripping mud from their entire bodies, they continued to chase.

The rain beat down on them unequivocally, the pursuers and the pursued both.

Geh! Gack! Gagh!

The noise of the battle that echoed was hard to describe. It could have been mistaken for the sound of frolicking; if a bystander had been watching from a distance, it may even have seemed like they were playing. But those involved weren’t even remotely thinking this way, for Tooru was fighting tooth and nail against the oncoming waves of police officers. Even the police, when it came down to it, were desperate to do something about this situation they’d landed themselves in thanks to their own reckless shooting.

Staggering and stumbling over their own feet, they continued to struggle. However, that too was about to come to an end. The police who had opened fire earlier hadn’t had all that much ammo to begin with. They’d been forced to resort to their batons, and by that point the outcome of the battle was clear.

 If Tooru had to pride himself on something, it would be his endurance. There was something absolute about his stamina. On top of having a great reserve of it, he was like an elite soccer player, good at measuring when to take micro-rests here and there. It was a corner-cutting technique he’d picked up from a slew of demanding part-time jobs.

And so, the police officers began to flag, while Tooru drove, steered, isolated and struck them down with little effort. By now, Tooru’s doubt had changed to conviction.

These cops are the real deal… They aren’t blindly trying to kill me with their attacks, at least. So…what now?

If he went too far, running away would only make things worse. He was also worried about the others, like Masaki and Honami Akiko—who was actually Pearl, but he hadn’t realized this—so maybe it was best he surrendered… Although, if they came swinging at him and he was forced to counterattack, there’d be nothing he could do about it.

“…Dammit. What’s the answer here?!” he growled from behind some debris.

Maybe he should make a show of it and leap out intentionally to get himself caught? They’d give him a solid beating. It’d hurt… He gritted his teeth at the thought. But they were out of bullets out there. There was no danger of him being shot to death. If he was going to do it, now was the time.

“…Alright!”

He waited until it had gone somewhat quiet, then sprang forth. And then he froze.

Because the one standing there…was not a police officer. All of them were lying at his feet. They were frozen stiff; something vacant, hollow in their expressions. You couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead.

And he, who stood in the center of it all, rain-soaked and utterly unconcerned about any of this, was grinning.

The man was short. His clothes were a pale purple, and the silken fabric seemed to shine as the rain fell upon it.

“……?!”

Tooru knew that the man had defeated the police officers, but…he couldn't even guess as to how or what for.

“Hey there, Inazuma.” It was a strange thing for him—for Fortissimo—to come out with.

“Huh?”

His words were baffling. Tooru hesitated, but standing before this man, this self-proclaimed “Fortissimo,” there was one thing that was painfully clear to him. One sense alone invariably came pressing down on him, openly and unabated, like being buffeted by gale-force winds.

Bloodlust.

All other sensations coming from him were non-existent. Drive. Whoever this man was, he was without a shadow of a doubt at peace with being the enemy…!

But even then, Tooru couldn’t hide his bewilderment.

What the hell’s up with this guy…? It’s like…like he’s completely covered in weak points!

It wasn’t a question of whether the “lines” would appear. He had no doubt about where he should strike, because he could attack anywhere!

But then, why did he seem so unnaturally fearless…? Instinctively, Tooru took a step back to make some distance. A gap which Fortissimo, as if giving it no thought at all, effortlessly closed.

In that instant, Tooru’s body twitched. He understood.

He…he knows!

This man was fully aware of the fact that he was full of openings, and that Tooru could see them…!

That was the reason he sneered. Then, that would mean that the “openings” were…

A trap? …No! This isn’t on that kind of level.

Indeed, it was the very way one might present themselves to a wary wild animal, as if to say “Look, I’m not afraid,” inviting them to bite. Since they weren’t on a level playing field, it was a given that the one with the higher ground would approach.

But what was his superiority grounded in? Not from a weapon, from the looks of it. You’d be hard pressed to say he had good physique, so it seemed unlikely that he was strong. Then, was it his technique?

But if that were the case, he should have some sort of stance. How in the…?

If it were Taniguchi Masaki, he’d surely have been able to tell, having studied so rigorously under Sakakibara Gen. This went beyond the strong and gentle “samurai” that Tooru aspired to after he was once saved—this was the same thing as the “heights of the sword ,” brandished for the sole purpose of burying the enemy.

Ultimately, there were no stances or techniques. It all hinged upon the opponent.

But what was clear was that it was creepy. Something formless. Something that, if mishandled, would be extremely bad. This much, he knew. He knew it, and yet…

“Urgh…”

And yet, he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing…!

The pressure, the tension… They were in themselves already a part of his opponent’s assault, gradually tightening their stranglehold on him. He had to move…!

“Hey, Inazuma,” began Fortissimo coolly, as if utterly indifferent to Tooru’s state. “Don’t you find that the true meaning of being strong…is not having to lift a finger? When you have no equal to challenge you, and you’re surrounded by nothing but the weak. When the routine of winning becomes so second nature, it gets invariably dull and tedious.”

He snickered.

“And your opponents are so pathetic, it’s ridiculous. A bunch of idiots who don’t even know who they’re up against. You must know what I’m talking about, right, Inazuma? Ever thrashed any punks who don’t know their place, who start messing with you because they think you’re taking up too much space, or don’t like the look you’re giving them or some other dumb reason? You must have, right?”

…He had. And many times. But what of it? What was he getting at?

“What I’m saying is, anyone who doesn’t try to gauge the strength and depths of their opponent is an idiot. In that sense, Inazuma…by not foolishly engaging me, you’ve cleared the first hurdle. Which is why…I’ll give you a proper duel.”

Fortissimo shrugged his shoulders. And then he moved.

His left hand extended with frightening speed, striking out toward Tooru’s chest. On impulse, Tooru swung down with the bar in his hand, aiming for Fortissimo’s fast-approaching trajectory.

The next instant, he was blown away.

“Wha-?!”

Tooru slammed into the materials behind him, the mountain coming down with a noisy crash. The bar in his hand…had broken off. The cut was perfectly clean, smooth like a mirror. But he was afforded little time to gawp at it; Fortissimo was already closing the gap. Tooru launched the materials at him, dodging to the side—the projectile materials were sliced to pieces in mid-air.

“Hahahaha!”

Fortissimo spun around to look at Tooru, and a menacing smile rose to his lips.

“You’re the second person who’s ever dodged two of my attacks… It’s been so long. I’ve waited so, so long to feel this way…!”

Tooru was rushing in even as he spoke, the severed bar thrust out to strike at Fortissimo’s side while Fortissimo was still in mid-turn.

Blood sprayed.

“…Agh!”

Then Tooru was in retreat, rolling away. He’d dropped the bar—now in pieces—and was pressing a hand to his face. From it trickled drops of blood… His right eye had been sliced, rendered useless.

“His eye…? I was aiming for his whole head. So he pulled back a fraction quicker, did he?” murmured Fortissimo calmly, with an air of satisfaction.

“…………”

Tooru took his hand from his eye. He didn’t have time to be worrying about pain. His field of vision had been halved, but the “lines” were still visible; they seemed to be more of a feeling to him.

He could see them, but…

…Ngh.

He picked up a new weapon—an iron pipe—and readied himself, trying his hardest to still his hopelessly trembling knees.

He could see the “lines.” He knew that he could strike them. But somehow, the moment he tried to do so, they would disappear. Cut short, as if Fortissimo’s power was the act of severing itself.

And the pipe just now… It was indeed sliced at the “cutting” point. It wasn’t that he’d touched it… Had he thrown something? But if that were the case he would have seen the “line” of the attack. He could even see the trajectories of bullets, after all…

“Hahaha…!”

Fortissimo’s assault continued unabated. Tooru hurled the pipe at him—it was sliced to pieces and repelled. But not only that—even the raindrops falling around him were atomized, showering down in a fine mist. Even with one eye, Tooru had seen this clearly.

…Huh?!

There really had been nothing. Nothing that he could see where the attack should have been. And yet, the fact remained that targets as small as raindrops had been hit with perfect accuracy. Which meant…

“S-space itself…?!” Tooru murmured. To which Fortissimo smirked.

“Hey, Inazuma, do you know what form the world really takes?” he asked. It was a strange question.

Tooru warily remained silent. Fortissimo continued.

“See, the thing is, Inazuma…this thing we call the world? To the trained eye, it’s covered densely with countless cracks.”

Fortissimo’s eyes narrowed. Were these “cracks” reflected in those eyes?

“I’ve always seen them, ever since I could remember. Then one day, I moved my fingers a little and realized I was able to make them spread. That’s right… It’s just as you said, Inazuma. ‘Space.’ That’s the nature of my power.”

Fortissimo raised his arms slightly, gesturing as an entertainer might respond to applause.

“I just have to pick one of the countless fissures running through the air and open it up a little. And just like that, I can ‘rend’ and destroy all things… That’s my power: ‘Fortissimo.’ It refers to how a sound that’s too powerful destroys harmony.  I was just a kid when they found out I was using it; that’s when I joined the Towa Organization. Seems they call folks like us MPLSes , those with powers this world wasn’t meant to see. I hear they create synthetic humans with similar powers too…but it doesn’t look like any of them have ever caught up to me.”

A chill ran down Tooru’s spine.

A…a power that lets him manipulate space at will…?

If it were a weapon, he could block it. If it were a projectile, he could dodge it. But space…? That was something he already existed within the confines of. So how was he supposed to protect himself from it…?! He had “lines,” his opponent, “space”… It was the difference between two-dimensional and three-. How could he fight someone who existed on an altogether higher plane?

Fortissimo approached yet again, smiling…

…Urk! F-Fortissimo!

Pearl, who had cautiously drawn closer to verify Tooru’s power, saw the pale purple man, visible even from a distance in the rain, and shrieked inwardly.

She didn’t know the identity of the illustrious “Strongest One,” but was well aware of his  legendary killing power and his high mission success rate—or rather, the fact that he never, ever failed.

I…I can’t believe this! He’s here…?! We  don’t stand a chance of winning now!

She had to get away. She’d hoped to manipulate Tooru into fighting the Towa Organization, but none of her plans mattered to her anymore. Only her own survival came first.

But there was no way in hell Pearl was going to be killed for a reason like that. So she ran.

She snuck into the ranks of an anti-Towa organization and took steps to ensure her safety and fortify herself against the impending danger. And yet…for all her little tricks, she was helpless in the face of Fortissimo, who now stood before her. She had to throw her pride to the wind and run…!

Her shoes, however, slipped in the dirt, now muddy after absorbing a considerable measure of rain. The sound was not overlooked by Fortissimo, who spun in her direction.

Their eyes met.

“…………!”

Pearl stiffened.

“Hm? Isn’t that…?”

Noticing Honami Akiko, whom Pearl was disguised as, Fortissimo’s smile vanished.

“So that’s where you were? But…” He immediately returned his gaze to Tooru. “Right now, this is more fun. She can wait.”

He took another step forward.

“Nngh…!”

Tooru could do little but inch away now. If the openings that had become visible to him were flawed, he could forget all about striking at weak points. He’d realized it was futile. Whatever he tried to do, he wouldn’t be able to land an attack on his opponent…

“What’s wrong, Inazuma…?” goaded Fortissimo, doing his best to rile Tooru up in the face of his visible distress. “Where’d all that courage go? You were singlehandedly fending off that police squad before. You’re doing a disservice to that samurai gear, you know.”

He snorted.

“Though…now that I look at it, that’s a pretty tacky getup. You look like a complete fool. Was that a hand-me-down? Dunno who gave that to you, but whoever it was, they clearly have poor taste.”

At this, Tooru tensed up, gritting his teeth.

“What’d you say?”

“Oh, that looked like it hit a nerve. What, you have some special memories or something? Hey, facts are facts. Whoever wore those clothes was a guaranteed idiot,” he sneered.

“…Shut up.”

Tooru’s expression was growing ever darker. He could put up with others making fun of his weaknesses. But to mock Sakakibara Gen, to whom his clothes belonged, was to Tooru the same as denouncing the man’s very existence.

“Seriously though, you don’t need to be the lapdog of a fool like that. You should already be leagues stronger than him, anyhow. Best thing for you is to spit on backward folks like that—they’re living in the past.”

Fortissimo shrugged and lightly shook his head with an air of disappointment, as if implying he was beyond hope .

“…………!”

Tooru snapped. He rushed in toward Fortissimo, techniques and powers be damned. Fortissimo dodged his attack effortlessly.

“…Uoooooooooogh!”

With a war cry, Tooru began swinging the pipe around wildly. If his opponent had been on the level of a police officer, he might even have hit them. But alas, each of his swings whiffed the air in vain. And somewhere along the way, he had begun to pant heavily. Too many meaningless movements had finally cost him the well of stamina he so prided himself upon.

Meanwhile, Fortissimo was practically unfazed. He continued to dodge the attacks by a hair’s breadth, his smile never fading.

Now then, Inazuma, I wonder what exactly you’ll show me when you’ve been pushed to the brink? Come on, now…

He even had the luxury to contemplate. Tooru, on the other hand, was afforded no such thing. The moment one side gives in to anger, the fight is all but decided. Whoever first loses their composure, loses the battle. Tooru had, at this point, already been defeated. It wasn’t about failing to make up for the difference in skill.

Eventually, Tooru stumbled and collapsed in a pathetic heap, face plunging into the mud. And at this moment, it finally hit him. But it was too late.

When he raised his head, what did he see but Fortissimo, hands outstretched and poised for merciless attack, as if to say, “If you’ve got any more tricks, let’s see ‘em.”

No good, huh?

Tooru resigned himself. It was too much. Somewhere in his heart, he’d quietly accepted that he was no match for Fortissimo.

Although…in reality, things seldom end the moment you come to terms with them. Though he’d been mentally prepared to lose, the power of human conviction is rarely absolute. Even in such abnormal circumstances, that principle was alive and well. And so was the golden rule: that cold, hard reality was especially cruel to the losers and the weak.

It happened as Tooru was closing his eyes to resign himself to his fate: a lone shadow, leaping into the fray. They were no bystander. No, they’d been very much involved. Tooru had forgotten that he was not the only one who’d been battling their way through the mud…

“…Tooru!”

Taniguchi Masaki had leapt in just as Fortissimo was ready to go on the offensive. Then something impossible happened. Fortissimo had been so fixated on Tooru out of curiosity and caution that Masaki’s fist had hit him square on the cheek, launching him through the air.

“…………!”

Tooru’s eyes bulged. Masaki turned to him and tried to say something…but he didn’t make in time. Tooru tried to open his mouth and scream. But that, too, was much too late.

In the next instant, Masaki’s body was shredded up, and he crumpled to the ground in a shower of blood.

There was no cry of pain. Nothing. He simply succumbed and fell.

“…………!”

Tooru’s lips hung open, trembling. Upon him fell the shadow of Fortissimo, who had now risen to his feet.

“…………”

A thread of blood trickled from his mouth where he’d been punched, but he didn’t seem to have taken any kind of damage.

“This man…”  Even Fortissimo was staring at the figure, which lay there like a blood-stained rag. “Standing In the path of the attack… Crazy bastard .”

There was something delirious in his voice—something uneasy.

“He dived straight in to save a friend, with no thought for his own safety. Now there’s a man of courage and action.”

His voice started to quiver, as if he was regretting his own actions.

“Decisive, too…and he just was an ordinary human. And then…there’s you.”

Fortissimo glared daggers at Tooru.

“How I overestimated you. You squandered the chance this brave man put his life on the line to give you…! Utterly ridiculous. I guess the biggest fool was me, to even expect anything of you…!”

He spat the words with contempt, and, with open disgust, turned on his heel and quickly left the scene, leaving Tooru all alone.

“…………”

Tooru crawled toward what was left of the man who tried to protect him. They had only just met, but he believed it to be one of the most important encounters of his life.

“…Masaki.”

He reached out his hand, but Masaki was motionless. Blood poured from all over his body, and it would not stop.

“Hey, Masaki…”

He hadn’t realized how tightly he was gritting his teeth. He felt so cold, he might well have been naked in the middle of a snowstorm, but even still…he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

And when at last he’d wrapped his arms around him, he screamed. His cry rang emptily through the street, and then was gone.

[1] Inazuma literally means “lightning,” so ff here took Thor and made it a JPN name. Everything else here is sorta nonsense from what I can tell. There are no twelve temple gods in Norse myth (they’re priests, and Thor isn’t one) and it’s the Asgaard temple, which is located in Asaheim, aka Asaland.

[2] Original JPN was “naming parent.”

[3] Obviously the same Manticore from And Others. The name “Manticore” is a reference to the ELP song/album Tarkus. Though, I can’t figure out what the “shock” part refers to. The Manticore section of Tarkus is an instrumental, and “shock” doesn’t appear in the rest of the song either. Peter Gabriel’s “Shock the Monkey” comes to mind, but that’s a stretch.