The heavy scent of blood and gunpowder, mingled with the acrid stench of cigarette tar, clung to Danan’s ashen hair. Eve, staring blankly at it, pressed her cheek against the soft blanket wrapped around her, surrendering to the swaying of the vehicle.

  Her memories were a hazy afterimage—she couldn’t recall when she lost consciousness or regained it. Why was she wrapped in a blanket? Why had she been sleeping? Eve herself didn’t know. All she grasped in this moment was that Danan, the source of the stench, held her as he slept, and the swaying interior revealed they were in some kind of combat vehicle. Pressing her aching head, stroking sweat-dampened skin, Eve gazed at Danan’s quiet breathing.

  Rugged, stern, unshaven, and curt. His gray hair was streaked with soot, his tanned skin caked with dried blood. A prominent old scar, faintly white, and countless smaller ones etched across him. He didn’t boast of overcoming hardship; his closed lips spoke only of targets to kill and the path to survival through bloodshed. His obsidian eyes, now shut from exhaustion, saw no light.

  He fought to live, killed to avoid death. Trust and faith were fuel for his killing intent; to him, others were enemies existing to devour him. Danan was a man who learned to fight before he knew love. Ignorant of how to love, he couldn’t trust others; mastered in combat, he saw every human as a foe. A demon of carnage, a blood-soaked yaksha without shame, the lowest of the low.

  Yet… stroking Danan’s cheek, touching a slightly raised scar, Eve knew even this demon had a human heart. Seira, whose memory data was stored in the Hakara Deck, had entrusted Danan with her plea, believing in him, loving him for fulfilling her wish. She wept for failing to save him, for being the only one saved, vanishing into the electronic darkness amid sobs and grief.

  If he were truly a demon, a merciless fiend of the killing path, he’d revel in death, building mountains of corpses, delighting in rivers of blood. He’d tally the lives he took, gleefully wielding weapons to slaughter more, devouring flesh and blood. He’d shed no tears, casting aside human emotions like conflict or anguish to conquer as a demon. But… Eve sighed softly, muttering “idiot,” unable to deny that Danan, who called himself trash, dust, or demon, wasn’t one. A man who could cry for someone couldn’t be a demon.

  “…”

  When he erased Seira’s memory data from the Hakara Deck, resolving to part with that past, what expression did he wear? What thoughts drove him to connect the hack cable with his mechanical arm? Was it a bitter decision, or an act to erase his own weakness? Eve didn’t know. She wasn’t Danan, and Danan wasn’t her. Only the person themselves could know their thoughts and actions.

  “…Can I fulfill your request?” Eve whispered. “No, probably… impossible. Because I—”

  “What’s impossible, and what’s this request, silver lady?” a voice interrupted.

  In an instant, Eve’s silver wings unfurled in the cramped vehicle, scattering shimmering feathers. They tore through the seat, slicing the armored plating, and aimed at the speaker’s throat.

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  “…Who are you?” Eve demanded.

  “…Mind pulling those wings back? It’s a bit… well, pretty damn scary.”

  “I’m asking the questions. Answer.”

  “Name’s Gloria, a friend of your buddy Danan. I mean you two no harm. We’re just driving near the residential district now. Uh… your name?”

  “…”

  Glaring at the assault rifle aimed at her and Danan, Eve clicked her tongue and retracted her silver wings from Gloria’s throat.

  “…Danan’s friend? Strange. I thought he didn’t make friends.”

  “We’ve had chances to work together, talked a lot. Danan cares about you a lot. Facing Aeshma to get the Hakara Deck? No ordinary person could do that. To save you, Danan fought, carving away at his body and heart. That’s—”

  Love, isn’t it? Closing his paperback, Gloria smiled and nudged the sleeping Danan.

  “Danan, time to wake up. We’re reaching the residential district.”

  Danan’s eyes snapped open, blinking a few times. Stretching broadly, he cracked his neck loudly and muttered, “I saw a dream.”

  “A dream? What kind, Danan?” Gloria asked.

  “…Dunno. I know I was dreaming, but I can’t remember. More importantly—”

  Scanning the silver wings piercing the vehicle’s interior, Danan gave a wry smile. “Back in top form, Eve?” he chuckled.

  “Oh, you laugh outside Lils’ place too? Quick question, Danan—who’s this guy? Your first friend?” Eve asked.

  “Friend… yeah, I guess. Gloria, sorry for Eve’s trouble.”

  “No big deal. You and me, right? This is nothing, Danan,” Gloria replied.

  “Got it. Got a cigarette? Need a wake-up smoke.”

  “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  Taking a cigarette and match from Gloria, Danan lit it, ignoring Eve’s piercing stare. Purple smoke swirled, the red ember smoldering.

  “Danan,” Eve said.

  “What?”

  “Quit smoking.”

  “Don’t ask the impossible, Eve. You know I won’t, no matter what you say.”

  “It’s bad for your health, raises lung cancer risk. All harm, no benefit. I’ll slice that ember off.”

  “Come on, Eve—chan, let him have a smoke or two. Sure, it’s unhealthy, but it helps focus,” Gloria interjected.

  “Don’t call me ‘chan.’ Friend of Danan or not, you’re a stranger to me. Familiar words show you don’t take me seriously, Danan’s friend,” Eve snapped.

  “Eve,” Danan said.

  “What?”

  “His name’s Gloria, not ‘friend.’”

  “I know that.”

  “Right.”

  Eve swatted at Danan’s purple smoke, and Gloria, exasperated, adjusted the vehicle’s ventilation. The earlier tension dissolved; with Danan awake, the interior filled with a light, slightly strained banter.

  “Eve,” Danan said.

  “What’s with you?”

  “You feeling okay? If you’re off, rest more. I’ll carry you to the room.”

  “…Saying I’m fine would be a lie. My silver wings and Lumina aren’t working right.”

  “…Got it.”

  Tossing the shortened cigarette out the window, Danan crossed his arms, glancing at Eve, who mirrored him.

  Eve seemed normal—her complexion fine, breathing steady. Sweat beaded but didn’t drip, just a faint sheen. Yet her prismatic eyes, usually shimmering with seven colors, were slightly dim, almost unfocused.

  “Danan,” Gloria said.

  “What?”

  “Is she your lover?”

  “…Don’t be stupid. No way,” Danan scoffed.

  “Really? You seem close, so I wondered… Good, I’m relieved.”

  “Relieved about what?”

  “That you’re not alone, not trapped in true loneliness. Eve—chan… sorry, Eve.”

  “What, Danan’s friend?”

  “Keep being close to him, okay? If it’s you, someone Danan risked everything to save, I can ask this. So—”

  “No need for ‘chan’ or ‘san.’ I’ll call you Gloria, too.”

  “…”

  “Danan and I are partners. We need to trust each other for now. I don’t need asking to stay close. That girl asked me to, too… right, Danan?”

  Danan, gazing out the window, nodded. Gloria smiled, sighing in relief.

  “Really… that’s great.”

  He nudged Danan’s side again.