The group stood among the wreckage of what used to be their world. Ash rained from the sky, and the air buzzed with the electric pressure of something monstrous — something ancient — waking fully. The Watcher loomed in the distance, its grotesque form flickering between dimensions as it began absorbing the earth itself. Everything shook under their feet.
Daichi helped Ayumi sit against the base of a crumbled tree. Haru sat beside Yui, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage over his ribs.
Kaito stood just outside the crumbling entrance, watching it, after tending to Haru's wound, and suddenly an idea popped up in his head.
The rest of the group huddled in the station's shadows — bloodied, bruised, and barely breathing.
Daichi struggled to his feet. "Kaito… What are you doing just standing there? Cmon!"
Kaito didn't turn around.
"Buying time," he said quietly. "You need to find the Jester."
Daichi blinked. "What?"
Kaito finally looked over his shoulder, eyes glowing faintly under his cracked glasses. His transformation flickered around him like static — barely holding on.
"Listen," Kaito said. "The Jester — he's not like us. He's not like the Watcher either. He exists outside the flow of time. We've seen what he can do. He fast-forwarded Haruka's time. Killed her. Then he rewinded it. Brought her back."
The others stared at him.
Yui's breath caught. "You think… he can do that to the Watcher?"
Kaito nodded. "If he can manipulate our time… he can manipulate the Watcher's."
Daichi's eyes widened in horror. "You want us to ask him to rewind the Watcher's time…?"
"When he was weaker,"
Kaito confirmed. "Before he became this. If we can get him back to that moment — even for a minute — we might be able to kill him." Daichi stepped forward, voice shaking.
"That's insane. Kaito, that thing is devouring the world — you think the Jester will even listen?"
"He might not," Kaito admitted. "But it's all we've got left."
Ayumi's voice was faint. "But he's dangerous. He plays with time like it's a toy."
"I know," Kaito said. "I know. But right now, he's the only thing left stronger than the Watcher. And if the Watcher sees you moving toward him, he'll kill all of you. That's why I'm staying."
Daichi's voice cracked. "What if you die?"
Kaito hesitated. Then smiled.
"…I never thought I'd ever have anyone to call a 'friend.' "
He turned to face them — fully.
The ruined world behind him, the people he finally belonged with in front of him.
"All my life, I was the quiet one. The weird kid. The loser. I used to sit in the back of the classroom and wonder if anyone would even notice if I disappeared."
He looked at Haru, slumped and bloodied.
Ayumi, trembling.
Yui, frozen.
Daichi, wide-eyed and clenching his fists.
"But you noticed me."
"You gave me a place. You gave me something to fight for."
Tears shimmered in his eyes.
"If I'm going to die… the last thing I want to do is protect you."
"No," Daichi said, stepping forward. "No, Kaito, don't do this."
"I'm not being a hero," Kaito said gently. "I'm being your friend."
He placed his sword across his back.
Then he pulled the emerald from his chestplate. It pulsed in his palm, warm and faint.
"Find the Jester. Use his clock. Make him turn time against the Watcher."
He turned away — one last time.
"Kaito!" Yui cried.
He didn't stop, the moment he stepped into the ruined light, the Watcher turned — its attention drawn instantly to him.
Daichi moved fast, or at least as fast as his body allowed. His side burned from the blow The Watcher had dealt him earlier, and his legs felt like sandbags, but he didn't stop.
Ayumi's arm was draped over his shoulders, her weight heavy, her breath ragged in his ear. Her eyes fluttered, half-lidded, but she was still awake. Still here.
Yui limped beside them, holding Haru steady. He'd stopped bleeding, mostly because there wasn't much blood left to lose.
Daichi moved fast, or at least as fast as his body allowed. His side burned from the blow The Watcher had dealt him earlier, and his legs felt like sandbags, but he didn't stop.
Ayumi's arm was draped over his shoulders, her weight heavy, her breath ragged in his ear.
Her eyes fluttered, half-lidded, but she was still awake. Still here.
Yui limped beside them, holding Haru steady. He'd stopped bleeding, mostly because there wasn't much blood left to lose. His shirt was soaked with it. His head was slumped, but he kept murmuring something under his breath.
Haruka's name.
Airi's name.
Daichi didn't say anything. He didn't know how to tell Haru those names didn't exist anymore — not here. Not in this broken, unraveling world. Their souls had already been eaten.
The Watcher let out a low, crackling roar behind them — a sound like a planet cracking in half — but Daichi didn't turn around. He focused on the task.
"Where is it," he muttered.
Then he saw it.
A thin, jagged crack slicing up through the crumbled pavement ahead — vertical like a lightning bolt frozen in the air. It shimmered at the edges like it was breathing, and beyond it, the air shimmered greenish-blue, warping reality like heat rising from asphalt.
A fracture in the world.
Yui saw it too.
Her eyes lit with a fragile thread of hope. "That's it."
Daichi gently lowered Ayumi to the ground, then turned back and ran to Haru.
"Yui, help her. I've got him."
Haru groaned when Daichi slung him over his shoulder.
"I can walk," Haru muttered, clearly lying.
"You're bleeding the most out of everyone…" Daichi said. "Shut up."
Yui grabbed Ayumi, helping her up again. Together, they limped toward the glowing crack. The energy radiating off it was cold and familiar — Limbo. Still alive. Still waiting.
Kaito was still standing in the distance, back to them.
Daichi stopped and looked at him — really looked. There was something different about him now. He wasn't glowing, not like he did when transformed. But something inside him was burning. Steady. Bright.
"Kaito…" Daichi's voice cracked.
Kaito didn't look back.
Daichi stepped through the crack with the others, the world folded shut behind them.
Kaito stood alone now, staring out over what used to be a city — reduced to blackened husks of buildings, twisted steel, and hollowed streets littered with broken things that once had names.
The sky had cracked open.
Above him, The Watcher floated like a puppet of smoke and bone, an impossible figure stretched thin across the heavens. It was growing — slowly, horribly — absorbing the pieces of this world into itself like a parasite feeding. Its tendrils dragged up concrete, trees, cars, people, spiraling them into the vortex of its core, where the emerald glow pulsed like a heart.
Kaito felt the ground shake under his feet. He looked down and realized it was disintegrating.
He tightened his fists. He could still feel where Yui's voice had cracked. Where Daichi had looked at him like he mattered. Where Ayumi, half-conscious, had grabbed his sleeve. Where Haru had barely opened his eyes and whispered, "Stay safe…"
Kaito's throat ached. He hadn't said goodbye. He couldn't.
Because then he wouldn't be able to do this.
He stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on the monster above. His transformation hadn't come back. His magic hadn't recharged. He had nothing but his body, his mind, and the last remaining scraps of his soul.
But that would have to be enough.
"Hey!" Kaito shouted.
His voice was hoarse — it cracked mid-word. But he didn't stop.
"Hey!! Are you just going to act like I'm not here..?!"
The Watcher turned.
Its face was not a face, just a swirl of eyes and mouths and jagged edges. But one eye — massive and glowing like the sun — locked onto him, It saw him.
Kaito's heart pounded. He felt cold.
But he didn't run.
He reached into his pocket and touched the emerald embedded in his transformation item — the stone that was once vibrant and full of life, now dull and splintered. It pulsed faintly, like it recognized what was about to happen.
Kaito whispered, "Just a little longer. Please."
He took off running.
The Watcher shrieked — not in rage, but amusement. Its claws whipped down, striking the earth behind Kaito and missing by inches. Debris exploded around him. Rubble cut into his arms. One of his knees buckled and he hit the ground hard, coughing, gasping — but he crawled back up.
He didn't stop.
He ran in wide circles, ducking, dodging, yelling, "Look at me! Over here!"
Every second he bought was a second the others had to reach The Jester. To find the clock. To make this plan work.
"Please work… please…"
Another strike came. Kaito rolled away, scraping his palms. Blood smeared across the asphalt. His glasses cracked and fell from his face. He didn't pick them up.
He squinted up at the monster and smiled through bloody teeth.
"You're not even strong…" he whispered.
He said it for himself. To keep the fear from swallowing him whole.
The Watcher loomed lower now, focused entirely on him. Kaito could feel the weight of its attention pressing down on his soul. Like it could see every memory, every fear, every secret. He felt stripped bare.
But he stood up anyway.
Tears blurred his vision. His chest hurt.
He thought about his parents. About how he'd never really told them who he was — never said anything about his life, or the way his soul ached every time he fought. He thought about his younger self — the one who ate lunch alone, who kept his head down in class, who thought no one would ever care if he disappeared.
He thought about Yu's kindness, Haru's confidence, Haruka's bright smile, Ayumi's outspoken personality and Airi's quiet strength.
They made him feel like he belonged, they accepted him. A claw swung down, too fast to dodge.
Kaito didn't try to run. Instead, he reached up with both arms,staring into the eye of the monster.
"Is this all that remains?" the Watcher says at last, his voice a low grind of thunder and rot. "One trembling boy playing the hero.."
Kaito doesn't answer.
The Watcher lunges forward with inhuman speed. In an instant, Kaito is caught. A hand like a stone pillar wraps around his torso, crushing his ribs against his lungs. Kaito chokes, gasping — the air knocked from his chest like a punch from the world itself.
The Watcher lifts him off the ground.
His body dangles, legs kicking, too stunned to scream.
"Children," the Watcher murmurs, almost amused. "So easy to manipulate. So eager to bleed for a cause they can't even understand."
He lifts Kaito higher, tilting him in front of his ruined, eyeless face. Black mist coils from the gaps in the Watcher's mask. "Do you have any idea how many souls I've eaten?" he whispers. "How many children just like you, desperate and noble, threw themselves at me like moths to flame?"
Kaito stares at him — sweat and blood dripping from his chin, jaw tight.
The Watcher's grip tightens.
A sickening pop sounds from Kaito's back — a rib cracking.
His whole body jerks.
"I've devoured them for centuries," the Watcher continues, low and cold. "Every last one made me stronger. Wiser. Eternal."
Kaito coughs blood, his head lolling slightly.
The Watcher tilts his head. "Any last words?"
Kaito's teeth grit together, jaw trembling. Blood oozes from between his lips as he forces his head up to look the creature in the face.
"Burn in hell.." he rasps.
The Watcher's claws begin to close.
The sound isn't a snap — it's a grind. Vertebrae crushed one by one. Kaito's body convulses violently in his grasp, eyes blown wide, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Blood pours from his nose, his mouth, his eyes — his fingers twitch once, then go still.
The last thing to give is his neck — crushed at the base, letting his head drop limp as a rag doll.
His emerald — once glowing with light and life — flickers dimly, then fades into nothing.
The Watcher stares at the boy's limp form for a moment, his expression unreadable beneath the shifting shadows of his face.
Then, like he's throwing away scraps, he flings Kaito's shattered body to the side.
It hits the ground with a dull, wet thud — bones broken in ways that don't bend back, arms twisted beneath him, his head at an impossible angle.
His glasses fall beside him, cracked and smeared with blood.
No light returns to his body.Just stillness. Final and absolute.
The Watcher lowers his massive hand to inspect the last remaining piece of Kaito, his emerald. It glimmers faintly in his palm — a soulstone, pulsing softly like a dying heartbeat.
He brings it to what might be his mouth. Rows of unseen, jagged teeth split the black mist. And he bites down.
CRUNCH