Episode 65: A Story of the Eight Billion Who Deserve to Be Saved.

Using Tachyon was a mistake.

Ironically, the original purpose of the Lica series was to engage in combat beyond the absolute limit, holding the line until the Original reached the safety zone. That instinct was now devouring every cell in my body—a body that was already a parched, barren wasteland.

If I had to describe it, it was like trying to wring enough water for one person out of a mountain of tattered, half-dried rags.

Every scrap of oxygen and energy was being snatched away, channeled through my blood toward the OYS in my head. Under the sheer pressure of that concentrated fluid, tears of blood sprayed from my eyes.

And so, I encountered a bizarre sensation: despite the blood rushing to my head, I was falling into state of total oxygen deprivation.

"So what?!"

I forcibly converted my non-essential internal organs into the respiratory components and blood I needed to survive the right now!

"Hah!"

That wasn't enough. To prevent further oxygen deprivation, I slashed my right wrist with a ceramic blade before the blood could be stolen by my head again.

Fresh blood sprayed in a wild dance. The dark, muddy hemoglobin expanded its surface area as it was exposed to the open air. It oxidized outside my body, venting carbon dioxide through direct contact with the atmosphere.

"OYS, Black Hole—transfuse it back in!"

"This is insane! I can't even tell if you're actually alive anymore!"

"Worry about yourself!"

Oxygen supply from my lungs alone couldn't keep up. I let the blood flow freely from my severed wrist, letting it circulate and drift through the air around me.

Only by doing this was I finally able to bring my oxygen efficiency back to something just barely below my prime.

"Let me ask you again. How did you manage to kill your own 'Strongest Self, the Shadow of Sin' back when you fought Violet?"

"Heh... what a stupid question. There is no 'strongest' greater than me—the one who survives this moment!"

"A common, foolish answer! And it's exactly right!"

With hearts in sync, both of us swung our blades from on high to prove that there was no one above us.

"We both made a mistake by turning this into a duel of finishing moves! In terms of pure combat ability, I'm the one on top!"

"Gah...!"

A second strike was unleashed in a split second, so fast it could only be felt upon contact. The mass, expanded by my ability, slammed into the side of Chastiefol held by Enraged Blue. I left a slight chip in her blade and sent her flying.

"To be this much of a monster even after being weakened... you're incredible!"

"Tell me about it!"

In the end, this was nothing more than borrowing against my remaining lifespan. If it weren't for the electronic boost from the OYS and the full-body modifications from Dr. Fordbolt’s hidden lab, I would have been turned into Dustopian ash without even touching her.

"Haaaaaaah!"

With no room to use special abilities, it became a pure contest of strength.

In a single exchange, we traded more blows than I could care to count. Openings, counters, and parries were rewritten in the blink of an eye.

My eyes could no longer even perceive the enemy's existence. While streaming demonic tears of blood, I kept them pried open to their limit, staring blankly as I picked out information from a world made only of colors.

I filtered out every other piece of data, using my sense of taste to catch the scent of feet, the killing intent pricking my skin, and the change in her sweat caused by extreme tension.

The failure of my depleted organs manifested as a vomit of blood dripping from my chin. I mercilessly discarded my sense of hearing, which had become useless long ago.

There was no grace in this sight.

"Huff... huff! One... more...!"

"Gah... cough... yeah. This is the last one."

Likely, the reality-altering power of Cosmic World consumed even more energy than my own The World.

In terms of maximum output, we were dead even.

"Why... why did you have to suffer so much?"

"Huff... hah... cough... what was that?"

She spoke as if she had forgotten we were trying to kill each other, bringing up a trivial topic like a stranger sitting at the same table.

"Huff... hah... being dropped into a hell where you have to keep taking lives without ever being rewarded... spending longer in that abyss than any of us."

"Mmm... maybe it was just that kind of cycle?"

"A cycle?"

"Yeah. Maybe all the fun I had in my past life—everything I didn't do back then—is just coming back to haunt me now."

"If that's the case... then in the next world, there should be as many rich people as there are Slayers, and maybe half that many children should be born... it has to be that way."

"If you want to complain, I'll listen as much as you want later. I know a place that grills yakitori so good it’ll make you glad you were born in this era, in this world."

"I’m sorry, but since you're all going to die, I won't know the location, and I don't have time to go looking for it alone."

"......"

I tried to light a bent cigarette with a plastic lighter, then stopped.

"Oh? You're not smoking?"

"Heh... you know? The secret to a long life is a moderate amount of poor health. I've already had two today, so that's my limit!"

"Is this really the time to worry about that? We're in the middle of a deathmatch."

"Hey, don't go looking for immediate results in everything. This is going to have a looooong-term effect."

I leveled my weapon.

"And... that's my win."

There were no flashy effects—just a strike stripped down to its functional beauty. A simple Iai slash gouged her shoulder.

With just that, a war that could have reshaped the terrain of the entire world came to an end.

"That's... that's just cheating..."

"You'd think we'd collide with full power! You'd think we'd kill each other with our lives on the line! So why is the final blow a technique meant to save a life?!"

"I dragged it out this long, I kind of forgot how to end it. Besides, if you wanted a finishing move, I traded that one for the very first move I used."

A single ray of light pierced into the dark, abandoned building. Like something being guided, I dragged my body to that spot and sat down as if my strings had been cut.

My body temperature plummeted, shaking as it fell far below the minimum line for survival. Even if I lived, I would be left with severe disabilities, and I would likely never stand on the front lines again.

You gently shake my shoulder.

No, it might not just be him. With eyes that can no longer see anything, I smile at the girls living in my memory.

The one dyed completely red, her past finally overwritten.

The one haunted by blue trauma, burning herself atop a mountain of corpses as she sought salvation.

The one who wanted to melt into the world as a single point of yellow light in a nightscape.

The one who sought to be a King with foolish sincerity, simply because she wanted to be acknowledged.

The one who turned her eyes away from ideals and stopped listening to the true sound.

The one whose existence was denied, forced to be like someone else until she could no longer recognize her own reflection.

I’m sure I am no different from them. Because I wanted to be someone special, I blindly fulfilled everything that was asked of me.

"That's fine," you would probably say.

"It's your fault, you know? You filled the gap that even Alter couldn't fill. I want you to take responsibility..."

That is why I will surely ask for it soon.

A tiny flame, about three centimeters in diameter.