Faced with Metis's grinning, offhand delivery of something so horrifying, Sakiko's expression froze for only an instant before snapping back into cold severity.
"Stop spouting nonsense."
Her voice cut like a blade.
"A Shadow is born when a person's heart is twisted by desire. If the 'real' Mutsumi never existed from the start, then how could a derivative thing like a Shadow—something that depends on the original—ever come into being? That's pure nonsense."
She stepped forward.
The pressure pouring off her—borrowed from Gojo Sakiko's possessed body—fell like a collapsing ceiling.
Before, Sakiko had been wary. She'd thought Mutsumi might simply be fractured, and that being too forceful would only worsen the situation.
But now?
If Metis was merely a Shadow, then there was no reason to handle her like fragile glass.
And yet, despite the suffocating weight that would have made any normal person's knees buckle, Metis's reaction was unnervingly calm.
The cheerful, playful energy drained from her.
Her raised hands lowered slowly, and the air around her seemed to sharpen.
Metis's eyes narrowed. A self-assured, composed smile curved her mouth—measured, confident.
This was the "Metis Holmes" mode.
Because Metis, at her core, wasn't some seasoned mastermind. She was a newborn Shadow who still didn't truly know how to express herself. The closest thing she had to "personality" was imitation—pulling templates out of Wakaba Mutsumi's memory and trying them on like costumes.
To deal with Sakiko right now, she chose a detective film Mutsumi had watched.
She mimicked the posture, the tone, the smug little air of certainty.
Metis turned gracefully and sat back down on the messy bed as if she were settling in for afternoon tea.
She was looking up at Sakiko from the mattress, yet her gaze carried no hint of inferiority. If anything, it was the look of someone evaluating Sakiko—cool, level, faintly condescending.
"Sakiko… you understand the cognition world more deeply than I expected."
Her voice softened, then steadied, like an opening statement in a case she was sure she'd already solved.
"Since you already know what a Shadow is… then I'll start from the beginning."
She smiled.
"I'll tell you the real story… of the thing called Wakaba Mutsumi."
"At the moment Wakaba Mutsumi was born into this world, she was complete—just like any other ordinary child."
"She had a real heart. She could feel curiosity at wildflowers by the roadside. She could feel safe when her mother held her hand."
Then Metis's tone turned cold enough to frost the air.
"But under Mori Minami's pressure, everything changed."
"In Mori Minami's eyes, she didn't need a living child."
She needed a prop.
A tool—one that could show off her motherhood, prove her 'education,' inflate her reputation.
"Mutsumi's tiny heart, under Mori Minami's pressure, was like a porcelain shard being hammered every single day."
"It didn't become stronger."
"It collapsed at the root—shattering into dust so fine it could never be put back together."
Metis spread her fingers wide in a sudden gesture, as if reenacting the moment something beautiful exploded into powder.
"In that instant, the real Wakaba Mutsumi died."
"Not physically."
"Spiritually."
"She became a shell—an empty container with no soul."
Sakiko's heart clenched, hard and cold, as if a hand had reached into her chest and closed into a fist.
She bit down on her lip. The sting kept her anchored, kept her from losing herself to the vertigo of what she was hearing.
It was possible.
Horribly possible.
"Then what are you?" Sakiko demanded, voice hoarse. "If the real Wakaba Mutsumi is dead, who are you? Whose Shadow are you supposed to be?"
Metis smiled—soft, sweet, almost painfully beautiful.
"I'm a Shadow. And I am Wakaba Mutsumi."
She rose from the bed and padded barefoot toward Sakiko. She stopped so close their breaths would have touched if Sakiko weren't half-ghosted in the seam.
Metis leaned in, face identical to Mutsumi's, close enough to be intimate—close enough to be cruel.
"But I'm not 'Wakaba Mutsumi' as Wakaba Mutsumi."
She tilted her head, eyes shining with a mercy that felt like a blade.
"I'm Wakaba Mutsumi… as everyone else expects her to be."
Sakiko's pupils tightened.
Fragments of cognition theory—things she'd learned in blood-black corridors and Palace shadows—snapped together like a puzzle clicking into place.
She stared into Metis's eyes, and in a whisper, she and Metis spoke the same sentence at the same time.
"Cognition… is everything."
Metis beamed, delighted—pure as a child who'd just been praised.
"You really do get it."
She began to pace lightly across the floor, bare feet making soft slapping sounds against scattered clothes and plushies.
"Yes. In this world, cognition is everything."
"Even if Wakaba Mutsumi's original heart collapsed and her true soul vanished…"
Metis spread her arms as if embracing the air itself.
"…the body she left behind still had a heartbeat. It still breathed. It was still a physical object that existed."
"It sat there and played guitar. It ate. It moved."
"It continued to exist as the symbol 'Wakaba Mutsumi.'"
"So, in everyone's eyes—except her own—Wakaba Mutsumi was still alive."
"Mori Minami needed a perfect doll."
"Wakaba Takafumi needed a sweet, obedient daughter."
"Teachers, classmates, and all the people who wanted access to Mori Minami's connections or Wakaba family benefit…"
Their collective expectations piled up.
Metis's smile sharpened.
"And their cognition… produced a miracle."
"If the container was empty… then those expectations filled it."
They poured into the shell and forced something to take shape.
They created Wakaba Mutsumi's Shadow.
Sakiko's breathing quickened.
The thought was nauseating—like the world itself had decided that if the original self was gone, it would simply install a replacement.
A counterfeit born from other people's desires.
Metis, watching Sakiko's face, looked pleased.
Back and forth, she swung her legs at the bedside as she continued, voice dripping with amusement.
"It was chaotic in the beginning."
"Everyone had a different 'Wakaba Mutsumi' in their head."
"Mori Minami wanted a puppet."
"Wakaba Takafumi wanted a gentle daughter."
"Classmates wanted an honor student."
"And even the same person's expectations would contradict each other from one moment to the next."
"So countless twisted Shadows were born inside that small body—packed in like sardines."
They struggled. They shoved. They fought to exist.
But most didn't even survive long enough to start an inner war.
"They were born from expectation… and died the instant they couldn't satisfy it."
"If they did even one thing that didn't match what the outside world expected at that moment…"
Metis's fingers snapped in the air.
"…they'd vanish like corrupted data being wiped."
"For example, if a lively Shadow was born and she smiled at Mori Minami…"
"…and Mori Minami frowned because 'that isn't Mutsumi'—"
"That Shadow would disintegrate on the spot."
"Because the outside world rejected her existence."
"So she had to die."
Metis's eyes turned darker.
"And the biggest judge, of course, was Mori Minami."
"Every day she demanded the impossible."
"She cut away anything 'extra.'"
Countless "Mutsumis" died soundlessly under that blade.
"Until finally…"
She lifted her chin.
"Mori Minami sculpted a perfect doll."
"One that could endure any pressure, satisfy any demand, and execute every order with a blank face."
Sakiko's chest hurt.
Even without living it, hearing it was enough to suffocate.
She could see it in her mind:
A child sitting alone in a vast hall, surrounded by enormous shadows. Each shadow reaching in with hands that wanted to reshape her into something useful.
Sakiko had always thought Mutsumi's quietness was her personality.
Her gentleness.
Her patience.
Now she understood it was the only fragment that survived after endless annihilation.
A residue of "safe" that remained when everything else was punished to death.
Metis watched Sakiko's pained expression, satisfied, and continued.
"Among all those Shadows, only one survived in the end."
"The one you knew best."
"The quiet Wakaba Mutsumi. The one with the thin expressions. The one who followed you around like a piece of wood."
"She survived because she fit the definition of a doll."
She could carry everyone's expectations without collapsing.
Then Metis paused, and her voice softened.
There was something like envy in it.
"…Honestly, to every version of Wakaba Mutsumi, you were special."
Sakiko blinked, caught off guard. She lifted her gaze to meet Metis's eyes.
Metis slowed her pace, words echoing in the messy room.
"At that time, everyone wanted something from Wakaba Mutsumi."
Her parents wanted reputation.
Classmates wanted distance.
Those circling the Wakaba household wanted profit.
"They all wanted to take something."
"In their eyes, Mutsumi wasn't a child."
"She was a commodity. A tool."
Metis's gaze locked onto Sakiko.
"But there was one exception."
"You."
"Toyokawa Sakiko."
"In that twisted time, you demanded nothing from Wakaba Mutsumi."
"You didn't care that she was a famous actress's daughter."
"You didn't care if she was talented."
"You asked her to play because you wanted to play."
You grabbed her hand, dragged her to rehearsal rooms, went bug-hunting, babbled about your music dreams—
Not because you needed something.
Because you were simply… being with her.
"You respected her will."
Even if her only response was a nod, or silence—you didn't punish her for it. You didn't insist on a 'proper' reaction.
"So when she was with you…"
Metis smiled faintly.
"She didn't need to satisfy anyone's expectations."
She didn't have to fear instant death for a wrong expression.
"You were her only safe zone."
Because in your cognition, Wakaba Mutsumi didn't need to be defined at all.
That fragile Shadow, beside you…
Finally felt something like real existence.
Sakiko felt no joy.
Only a freezing dread that ran down her spine.
She remembered the safe room inside Mutsumi's Palace—the wall of old photos of the two of them as children.
She'd thought it was friendship.
Now she understood that, back then, she had been the one place where Mutsumi's existence was guaranteed.
No wonder those memories formed a sanctuary.
It wasn't just happiness.
It was survival.
And that only made Sakiko's guilt sharper, more unbearable—like a rusted saw grinding back and forth in her heart.
She took a breath and forced the shaking inside her down.
She was not a child anymore.
She wasn't the little girl who could accept "whoever" as Mutsumi.
She wanted her Mutsumi back.
Even if that Mutsumi was a Shadow forged from other people's expectations.
Even if she was a counterfeit.
"She's still mine," something inside Sakiko snarled.
She lifted her eyes, voice hard.
"Then what are you?"
"You said the Mutsumi I knew was the one Shadow that survived and stabilized into a 'perfect doll.' If that's true, why did you appear? Why is there a Metis?"
Metis looked at Sakiko, and her smile turned razor-thin.
"I told you."
"Cognition is everything."
"And my birth…"
She drew out the words, savoring them.
"…came from your betrayal, Toyokawa Sakiko."
Sakiko went rigid.
Her face drained of color.
"My… betrayal?" The words came out like a broken echo.
"Yes." Metis's voice was calm, almost gentle.
"For a long time, you were her safe zone."
"But then your family fell apart."
"And you changed."
"You weren't the Sakiko who wanted nothing anymore."
"When Mutsumi became the messenger between you and Nagasaki Soyo…"
"You turned impatient."
"Obsessive."
Hostile.
"And when you decided to build Ave Mujica…"
Metis's eyes glinted.
"You piled pressure onto her."
You needed her technique.
You needed her mother's resources.
You needed her to stand on stage as the perfect Mortis.
"You demanded she keep up."
"You demanded she sacrifice herself for your dream."
Metis tilted her head.
"And at that moment… what made you different from Mori Minami?"
"You also began to have strong, specific expectations for Wakaba Mutsumi."
"The last refuge… disappeared."
Mutsumi realized that even beside the person she trusted most…
She still had to perform a role to survive.
Metis spread her arms wide, like a preacher announcing a gospel.
"She loved you too much, Sakiko."
"She was terrified she couldn't meet your demands."
Terrified she'd fail your expectations.
"So she began to wish…"
That there would be someone who could meet them perfectly.
Someone who could bear the pressure for her.
Someone who could protect Ave Mujica—
Protect Toyokawa Sakiko—
No matter what.
"And I, Metis…"
Her smile widened, and it was almost innocent in how monstrous it sounded.
"…was born to answer that wish."
"From Wakaba Mutsumi's love for you, tangled with fear."
"My mission was to replace the Mutsumi who couldn't endure anymore."
"To protect Ave Mujica."
"To protect Toyokawa Sakiko."
Sakiko stood there, blank.
Her mind emptied out.
Images flashed—forming Ave Mujica, the rehearsals, the tension, the demands, the way she pushed and pushed and pushed—
Metis wasn't some random anomaly.
She was something Sakiko had forced into existence.
A product of her greed, her rage, her refusal to lose.
She had destroyed Mutsumi's last safe place with her own hands.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy rhythm of two breaths.
Then Sakiko spoke again, hollow.
"But… Ave Mujica still disbanded."
Metis's smile cracked.
She let out a long sigh and wilted.
The sharp "detective" veneer peeled off in an instant, revealing the childish, helpless girl beneath—the one who didn't know what to do when reality refused to cooperate.
"…Yeah," Metis murmured, staring at her bare toes. "Ave Mujica still disbanded."
"Because Mutsumi's idea was wrong from the start."
She looked up at the ceiling with empty eyes.
"That idiot thought if she performed well enough…"
…then Ave Mujica could continue.
And if Ave Mujica continued, it would protect the Ave Mujica worldview—
Protect the Toyokawa Sakiko who had nothing left.
"But she was naïve."
"Ave Mujica's survival was never determined by her effort."
"Not even by your effort."
"That band was born from capital operations and interest exchanges."
"From the beginning, it was destined to be controlled by capital."
"It was a toy."
"A bargaining chip Mori Minami used to trade for profit."
Metis's voice echoed softly, as if she were reciting a verdict.
"When capital's interests clashed with your pride and your will…"
Disbanding was inevitable.
Then—
The light in Metis's eyes twisted again.
She began to laugh.
Low at first.
Then brighter, sharper, tipping into something dangerously ecstatic.
She jumped off the bed and rushed up to Sakiko in a few quick steps.
"But now it's different, Sakiko!"
Her cheeks flushed with an unhealthy heat. Her hands flew as she spoke faster and faster.
"You can enter the cognition world now!"
"And you have power so strong it can even twist the real world!"
"This kind of power stands above all rules!"
She lunged forward and grabbed Sakiko's wrist.
By all logic, Limitless should have prevented physical contact—but Sakiko instinctively let the barrier drop.
She wouldn't run.
Not from the Shadow she had created.
Metis's eyes widened to their limit as she leaned close.
"You can change people's cognition easily!"
"Capitalists? Mori Minami?"
"In front of you, they're all just puppets you can move however you want!"
Her grip was frighteningly strong.
"If you want, you can make them believe supporting Ave Mujica is the only reason to live!"
Then she smiled like a fanatic.
"We can rebuild Ave Mujica!"
No—
"We can go further!"
"You can rewrite the consciousness of the whole world!"
Make everyone drown in our worldview!
Make them hear nothing but our music!
See nothing but Toyokawa Sakiko!
Turn them into the most loyal believers!
Let them offer their souls to your dream!
Metis's face—Mutsumi's face—was filled with a warped longing and a sick, shining hope.
"Sakiko."
Her voice trembled with devotion.
"Rebuild Ave Mujica with me."
"Let's take this disgusting reality…"
…and shape it into what we want.
Make it our eternal stage.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
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Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 165)
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TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
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I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter250)
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Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
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Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
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Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
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Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 248
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
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Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/40
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 125
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 145
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 120
I Can Copy Unique Skills 115
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My Harem Is Indescribable 100
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 105
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 67
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 105
Still playing traditional Honk 80
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 85
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 78
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 80
Checking In in Demon Slayer 85
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 100
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 85
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 80
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 90
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 75
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 80
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DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 70
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 80
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 80
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 57
The Uma Musume Who Became 55
I'm Definitely Not the King of 60
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
Naruto: I'm Konoha's Local Men 35
Honkai: World Modulation Mode 34
I, the Elden Sword Saint 27
Dio Brando Is Challenging FGO 24
No One Knows Pokémon Better 18
I, Sakazuki, Won't Go Down Tha 20
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