29 The End, Someday: Below

"I'm not human."

"To me, that's not a significant issue."

Fighting alongside the Terminus people, she found only minor differences in lifestyle.

Mio, for her part, shared that same way of life—so to Jin, it was no problem at all.

But to Mio, it was the most frightening thing.

Not human.

An ASID, long labeled the enemy of humanity.

She had believed she had no future.

"…Even so, am I still your daughter?"

"To me, you're the only daughter I have."

Perhaps. Maybe another possibility existed.

But she did not know. To Jin, there was no daughter but Mio.

Yet to Mio, it was terrifying.

What if, someday, she would have to surrender her place to someone else?

What if she was nothing more than a substitute?

"Can I go home?"

"I'd be lost without you coming back."

Perhaps one day Mio will leave home.

It cannot always be like this, staying together.

A parting will come, inevitably.

Even if that day comes, Jin wishes to remain Mio’s place of return. That is his hope.

Yet Mio could not believe in that unconditionally.

Because Jin and Mio were never born as parent and child.

They became parent and child.

The reverse. She feared that one day they might no longer be parent and child.

"...I was afraid."

The words, long held back, burst forth from Mio as if a dam had broken.

Each sentence, never spoken to Jin, tumbled out.

"I know I’m not human. I keep thinking everyone else will fear me. That’s not all. If I’m not human... can I even stay with humans? When I think that, I can’t see any hope in the future."

It wasn't that she couldn't trust those around her.

The one she couldn't trust was herself.

Not human.

Might hurt someone someday.

A future like this—there is none.

One day, one day, she’ll be nothing more than a substitute for someone else, replaced by the real thing.

A fake has no value, after all.

"If I thought I was the reincarnation of someone important to Jin... then I must have been mistaken. That’s why I couldn’t imagine a future beyond Mio. So I thought I had to protect Jin’s happiness, at the very least. That’s what I believed."

But—someone had come and forced open that sealed door.

People who told her she was worthy.

Without them, would Mio even have faced Jin now?

She might have kept running.

Paradoxical, perhaps—but no matter how much Jin accepted Mio, it meant nothing.

As mother and child, Mio unconsciously placed Jin within a special category.

She harbored, somewhere deep, the expectation that he would accept her unconditionally.

Thus, even if Jin alone reached this place, Mio’s despair would not lift.

“But still… I was afraid.”

There were people who would accept her.

That was a deeply joyful thing.

Yet Mio was still afraid.

“Because… Mio’s most wanted place to return to was Dad’s…”

Returning to her childhood tone, Mio’s voice stammers as tears fall.

Only Jin’s acceptance matters—because she is set apart.

Mio is selfish. One thing is not enough. She wants everything.

She cannot bear to have nothing.

Such childish greed.

Everyone, at some point, carries this kind of passage ritual.

Yet Mio has come this far without ever speaking such selfishness aloud.

Jin lifts Mio into his arms.

The girl he hasn’t held in years has grown considerably—yet still, to Jin, she feels light.

She carries burdens she shouldn’t have to bear, even this small frame.

“Do you remember? What I said long ago. That as long as I can hold you like this, I’ll protect you.”

“…I remember. I’m confident in my memory.”

“Then don’t worry about protecting my happiness. I’ll still protect yours, Mio.”

He does not know how that will come to pass.

But it must. The power to keep one daughter from crying—something Jin believes he still possesses.

“I’m glad I got to hear you call me ‘otō-san’ again.”

Holding Mio as she sobs, Jin speaks with every emotion he cannot name.

To Jin, the thought of being anything other than her father now—after all this—is unthinkable. Unwilling even to consider.

This moment. Just like this is fine.

Finally—able to begin where we left off ten years ago.

From the deepest part of his heart.

"Let's go home."

"Uh… yeah…"

"This time, don't lose the key again."

"Uh… yeah…"

Mio takes the key from Jin, her face smeared with tears.

The penguin keychain.

She had insisted on using a physical key rather than biometric authentication—because that was the one place she had once decided to change.

Now that it had returned to her hands, Mio shed tears once more.

"Welcome home, Mio."

"Welcome back, Dad."

◆ ◆ ◆

Returning Mio to the cockpit of her body.

Watching her blow her nose loudly into the handkerchief Shu had handed her, Jin feels a distant warmth, then steps back into Edelweiss.

"Alright, let's do it, Edelweiss."

『Hmph.』

Raise the Harmonic Razer.

Converge the interference force to its limit.

For Jin, who manually controlled the ether convergence, this was not difficult.

By narrowing the influence range, the load on the Harmonic Razer itself decreased, and the surrounding effects were reduced.

Even if it were one against many, the difference would be negligible. Against one, the efficiency was overwhelmingly in favor of this method.

Edelweiss, having used it for a long time, felt slightly dissatisfied to see it so effortlessly mastered.

After years of use, to be outperformed in an instant was uninteresting.

——When this ends, we’ll settle it again, Jin.

“How exactly?”

Anything goes. Just a match.

I’ll gladly accept, as long as it’s not a matter of life and death.

Naturally. I’d be troubled if you died now.

Secure the chance for revenge.

Lift the Harmonic Razer with one hand.

Converge the spatial interference, channeling the ether necessary to pierce the opponent's ether coating.

A blade forged from dual convergence—currently the strongest in the universe—is swung straight down.

Equilibrium collapses in an instant.

Starter’s reactor, along with Laitera, is destroyed.

The story, packed with the final prayers of countless humans, ceases.

At that final moment, a single, intense wave of ether communication erupts—like a death cry.

“Ahh…”

Mio instinctively gasps, as if forcibly pulled upward.

Even at the very end, the reactor was still twisting out ether.

“That was…?”

Jin feels concern—was it all right?

After that final wave, Laitera falls utterly silent.

The overlapping worlds can no longer be sensed.

This means Laitera’s alteration of the past has been completely erased.

“…Goodbye, Rei.”

Farewell.

I hope—may you find happiness in another world.

"Alright, let's go back."

"……Jin."

"What?"

"I forgot to mention... we are extremely vulnerable to that etheric wave."

"Yeah. Fits. The others should be moving soon, right?"

"Un. If nothing happens."

Jin's expression tightened at the ominous footnote.

"Nothing... happened, right?"

"That final wave. It was more than enough shock for us."

After the long preamble—

"Ah, yes. Goodnight."

With those words, Edelweiss's body ceased functioning.

Willpower? Or perhaps the excellence of her frame as a commander?

Even after struggling for several seconds, Edelweiss collapsed once more.

Her falling meant the other Terminans had all gone offline simultaneously.

"Hey—wait!"

The Reactor is operational. Relief at knowing she had not died was fleeting.

……It won’t move.

Not the body of Edelweiss, nor even the hatch.

In other words, Jin would be unable to leave this place until Edelweiss awoke.

……Sorry, Higuchi, Mio. Can you carry her for me?

Mio, still possessing a physical body, had not lost consciousness. He decided to have her moved by someone still capable.

A frustrating situation…

Still, Jin allowed a faint smile to form at the corner of his mouth.

He wondered what Edelweiss would do when she woke—how she’d react if he teased her about this moment. He looked forward to it.