Maeda sagged forward, knees slipping on the slick stone as he tried to brace himself, fingers trembling against the blade jutting through his mouth. Blood pattered in sharp rhythms onto the ground—steady, weakening.
Kanesaki didn't let him fall.
A hand fisted into Maeda's collar, yanking him back upright, forcing him to look at him, forcing him to see the fractured glow burning through Kanesaki's pupils like heat behind cracked glass.
'You're real quiet now,' Kanesaki rasped, voice frayed and trembling with adrenaline and fury. 'What happened to all that preaching? All that crap about strength? About ruling? About how we're meant to be some perfect little army?'
Maeda tried to breathe, a wet sputter catching in his throat. His hands reached for Kanesaki's wrist, weak, unfocused.
Kanesaki slammed him back against the cave wall.
The impact shook loose dust and chips of rock, Maeda's body folding for a second before Kanesaki hauled him upright again, blade still embedded in his mouth like a cruel bit of metal silence.
'You think you know anything about me?' Kanesaki spat. His burned skin twitched as steam rolled off him. 'Anything about us? You think breaking people makes you strong? You think clones dying for your ego makes you some kind of god?'
He shook Maeda by the collar—hard enough that the body jerked like a limp puppet.
'You used them. Our own kind. You didn't teach them anything. You didn't elevate them. You didn't even respect them.'
Maeda's hands twitched, trying to find leverage. Failing.
'They followed you because they didn't know better,' Kanesaki growled. 'Because they were made to. Because they were scared. And you—'
He drove his knee into Maeda's chest, knocking the breath from him in a single choked wheeze.
'—took advantage of that.'
Maeda sagged again. Kanesaki didn't let him fall.
He punched him—once, hard, across the jaw. Enough to rattle bone but not enough to break anything clean. The kind of hit meant to hurt, not kill.
'You talk about domination like it's enlightenment,' Kanesaki snarled, voice roughening, edges fraying with something feral underneath. 'You talk about strength like it's some kind of gift you get for stepping on everyone weaker than you. But have you ever—'
Another punch. The sound was dull, meaty.
'—once—'
A kick to Maeda's ribs sent him crumpling sideways, gasping soundlessly.
'—ever fought for anyone but yourself!?'
Kanesaki stalked forward, steps uneven, rage and exhaustion blending into a single trembling line. The cracked glow in his eyes flickered, brightened, something breaking and reforming every second behind them.
He grabbed Maeda by the scarf—what was left of it—hauling him back up again with a guttural snarl.
'You don't get it. You don't get me. Or Yasuko. Or Yasui. Or any of us who choose to stand with humans instead of above them.'
Maeda's fingers weakly curled around Kanesaki's wrist, trying to steady himself, trying to get the blade out of his mouth, trying to do anything.
Kanesaki leaned in close enough that Maeda could feel the heat rolling off his burned skin.
'You said we were weapons,' Kanesaki whispered, voice trembling, almost a growl. 'Tools. Disposable. But you know what?'
He shoved Maeda back against the wall again, breathing hard.
'You're the empty one here.'
Maeda's knees buckled. Kanesaki's hand kept him upright.
'All that strength you brag about? All that power? That's nothing but a hole you fill with bodies.'
His cracked eyes narrowed, the red veins flaring.
'And you wanted me to join you?'
He drove Maeda down to the ground with a single brutal push.
'Pathetic.'
Kanesaki stood over him, heaving breaths echoing in the cave, steam swirling around his burned shoulders. His blade, still stuck through Maeda's mouth, caught the torchlight like a shard of molten glass.
And then—
A voice echoed from deeper in the cave.
'…Kanesaki?'
Nishihara.
Confused. Cautious. Not yet seeing the whole scene.
Kanesaki didn't turn. His breath hitched, but his eyes stayed fixed on Maeda, rage still bubbling under the surface, barely leashed.
The cave went deathly silent, save for Kanesaki's ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto stone.
Nishihara's silhouette sharpened as he stepped deeper into the cave, the torchlight licking across the walls, revealing the shredded remains of the clones… and Kanesaki's trembling form standing over Maeda.
'Kanesaki,' Nishihara repeated, voice low and uncertain. 'What the hell… happened here?'
Kanesaki stiffened.
He didn't turn. He couldn't turn.
His breath stuttered in his throat—half a gasp, half a growl—and his fingers spasmed against the hilt of his blade. The fractures in his eyes pulsed faintly, as if each heartbeat cracked them a little deeper.
'I—'
His voice scraped out, raw. 'It's… not—I didn't—'
Words scattered like loose gravel. Thoughts fracturing. The world dipped and swayed around him, the edges of his vision still broken, still splintered.
'I was—they—he—'
Kanesaki clutched the side of his head, teeth grinding as he tried to force clarity through the static ripping at his mind.
Nishihara took a slow step forward. 'Kanesaki. Look at me.'
Kanesaki tried. Truly tried. His chin lifted an inch, then flinched, as if the motion hurt.
'I'm not—I didn't—I'm not turning on anyone,' he forced out, voice trembling with strain. 'I swear—I swear I didn't—'
His breath hitched again. Cracks spiderwebbed visibly across the whites of his eyes. His legs shook. His grip on Maeda's scarf loosened.
And Maeda moved.
So slowly it almost wasn't movement, just a shift of weight, a subtle widening of his fingers around Kanesaki's wrist. Then, with a wet, sickening sound, he drew his head back, forcing his own flesh further down the blade still lodged through his mouth.
Blood spilled. But Maeda didn't flinch, not even a twitch.
Instead, his free hand curled around Kanesaki's shoulder, almost gentle, and he wrenched himself off the sword.
The blade slid free with a wet gasp.
Maeda collapsed to his knees, coughing violently, spraying blood into his palm, and looked up at Nishihara with wide, trembling eyes.
'H-help…' he rasped through the torn ruin of his mouth, forcing his voice through broken flesh. 'Officer… please…'
Nishihara froze.
Maeda staggered upright just enough to point a shaking, blood-soaked finger at Kanesaki.
'H… he… he turned on us,' Maeda choked, each word wet. 'He—he snapped... turned the clones on me, on everyone in here—'
'That's a lie—!' Kanesaki snapped, voice breaking, but it came out too raw, too wild, too much like the cracking was pulling apart the control in his throat.
Maeda recoiled as if terrified, stumbling back.
'H-He made them attack... made them kill each other... I had to defend myself—h-he said humans were the problem... He said—he said we should break away—'
'That's—' Kanesaki's voice spiraled upward in panic. 'That's not what I said, Nishihara, I never—I wouldn't—'
But the fractured glow in his eyes flickered like something unstable. His shoulders trembled. He looked wrong. Dangerous. Broken.
'Kanesaki,' Nishihara said quietly. 'Calm down.'
'I am calm!'
The words cracked like glass shattering.
Kanesaki immediately flinched, realizing how it sounded.
Maeda coughed and stumbled, and from behind him, one of the clones—barely alive, limbs twitching—dragged itself forward with a wet scrape of bone on rock.
Its deadened eyes flicked to Maeda.
And with a last spark of command obedience—or self-sacrifice—it lunged straight at Maeda.
The blade in its hand sank into Maeda's abdomen, drawing a bloodied scream from the Chimera.
Blood splattered across the stone as he crumpled forward, clutching the wound, forcing it deeper with a trembling hand, using the attack to his advantage, painting the scene exactly as he needed it.
'Kanesaki—!' Nishihara shouted, instinctively stepping forward to grab him, to stop him.
'Kanesaki—what did you DO—?!'
'I DIDN'T—!!'
Kanesaki stumbled backward, hands raised to show they were empty, eyes wide, fractured, terrified. 'Nishihara— I didn't— I swear—!!'
Maeda collapsed, gasping and sobbing through the wound, staring up at Nishihara with shaking hands and a whisper choked through blood:
'He'll… kill us all…'
Nishihara turned toward Kanesaki, and in that moment, for the first time since they'd met, he looked at him like he didn't recognize him.
Nishihara did not shout.
He did not tremble.
He did not even blink.
He simply stood there, silhouetted against the cave's faint light, staring at Kanesaki with a stillness so complete it was almost inhuman.
Then—
His hand moved.
The odachi slid from its sheath in one smooth, whisper-quiet draw. The length of the blade glinted with the reflected firelight and scattered blood, humming faintly as if reacting to the tension in the air.
Kanesaki froze.
'Nishihara—wait—don't—!'
But Nishihara wasn't listening.
A small click sounded as he lifted his radio to his mouth.
'This is Officer Nishihara,' he said, voice steady. Emotionless. Empty.
'Chimera CL7-287 has gone rogue.'
The words hit like a detonation—cold, bureaucratic, final.
'All units are to eliminate on sight.'
Chapter 56—end