Game Clear
Conan glanced up at the countdown, its final minute slipping away, drew a deep breath, and spoke. "This is only my own take on it, and I'm not sure whether it's right. But judging from everything Noah's Ark has declared and done so far, I don't think it approves of people who arrogantly decide the fates of others. As for whether or not to press the button — that choice belongs to each of you."
At the very end, he added one more thing. "I can't promise what I just said is the correct answer, but I'm certain the blue button is the wrong one. It's obviously a trade-off that sacrifices everyone else for the sake of a single person — and it would go against the Hydro Archon's own wishes."
With that, Conan stole a careful, sidelong glance at Morofushi's reaction.
Emori and Kikukawa exchanged a look, silently asking each other with their eyes: Well? Do we press it or not? Unable to decide, they turned in perfect unison toward Morofushi and left the call to him.
Feeling their gaze, Morofushi turned to find Emori and Kikukawa staring at him, and answered with open exasperation. "What are you looking at me for? There's no button on my face. Didn't he just spell it out? Either press red, or don't press anything — take your pick and leave me out of it."
Kikukawa gave an awkward smile. "Come on, Morofushi, we just wanted to know what you'd pick, so we could go along with you. That's how we've always done it, hasn't it?"
At those last words, Morofushi's body went rigid for an instant before he recovered. "The past doesn't have to repeat itself this time. Make your own choices."
Kikukawa found it a little odd that Morofushi was reacting differently than usual, but he didn't dwell on it. If Morofushi was going to decide for himself, then so be it. After a moment's thought, he said, "Then I'm going with not pressing anything. Conan's argument makes sense to me. Besides, Noah's Ark only said pressing blue means failure — it never said what happens if we don't press at all. Might as well find out."
Hearing that, Emori mulled it over and lowered the hand he had been holding ready over the red button. "Fair point. We only made it this far because Conan helped us so much. And honestly, the Hydro Archon and Furina are both so admirable that I couldn't bring myself to choose their sacrifice with my own hands. Let's leave it at that."
As the countdown ticked steadily lower, one hand after another fell away from the buttons — everyone, that is, except Kikukawa and Emori, who had already withdrawn theirs.
Ran, Natsuyu, and the members of the Detective Boys had known Conan far too long to doubt him now. And though Morofushi said nothing, his movements made it plain enough that he intended to follow Conan's advice as well.
Five seconds remained. Every eye turned upward to the glaring crimson digits as they waited, tense, for the final result.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One!
The countdown vanished, and in its place the image of the Hydro Archon and Furina's dance flickered back to life.
But this time, the guillotine blade suspended above the Hydro Archon no longer held still. It fell.
Before anyone could even react, both the Hydro Archon and Furina vanished from the screen.
"Wait, what?! We didn't press the red button!" Genta couldn't help shouting.
"That's right — you didn't make a choice. So the story is simply proceeding along its original path."
They hadn't expected any reply at all, yet the moment Genta finished speaking, Noah's Ark's voice rang out through the space, startling everyone.
Seeing that Noah's Ark would actually answer questions, Conan pressed on at once. "Then what was the point of that whole choice?"
"Honestly... it really didn't have any. I simply wanted to see whether, when faced with a situation offering only two options, anyone could find a third. Call it... a prank."
By this point, Noah's Ark's voice no longer carried its original cold detachment. For the first time, it sounded like an actual child — with just a hint of mischief in its tone.
"Don't worry. By the time you reached this stage, you had all essentially cleared the game already. Whether you pressed the red button or pressed nothing at all, it would have counted as a clear. Oh, and by the way — if even one of you had chosen the blue button, that would still have been an outright failure, and none of you would have woken up." With that final sentence, Noah's Ark's voice turned cold again, as though deliberately trying to frighten them.
The expressions on everyone's faces went utterly blank — Conan's most of all.
So all that careful analysis of his had been for nothing? And besides — what kind of person would choose to press the blue button anyway?!
Once it became clear that Noah's Ark had no intention of answering any more questions, the group turned their attention back to the image floating above the space.
Furina's figure reappeared on the screen — seated alone on the divine throne of the Opera Epiclese, weeping by herself.
The scattered water droplets from the Hydro Archon's sacrifice drifted down before Furina, carrying with them the last blessing of the Archon to her other self.
The scene shifted to the exterior of the Opera Epiclese, where rain poured down in sheets — as if it were the very embodiment of the grief in Neuvillette's heart as he witnessed the Hydro Archon's final moments.
In silence, they watched Neuvillette stand amid the torrential downpour and declare the pardon of all Fontaine's people, absolving them of their sins.
Then, his full power restored, Neuvillette set out to strike at the very root of Fontaine's calamity — the culprit who had made the prophecy reality: the All-Devouring Narwhal.
They had only just begun to sink into the sorrow of watching the Hydro Archon sacrifice herself to save Fontaine when the screen showed Neuvillette arriving at the Narwhal's domain, at the far end of the lightless sea of stars.
It's beautiful.
Even with grief still lingering in their hearts, no one could deny it — the scene before them looked exactly like a sea of stars out of a dream.
The colossal All-Devouring Narwhal gliding above that stellar sea, occasionally plunging beneath its surface, and the duel waged against it by the fully empowered ancient dragon Neuvillette — it was a spectacle that truly took the breath away.
Just as everyone was thoroughly absorbed in the battle, waving imaginary flags and cheering Neuvillette on, eagerly anticipating the even more spectacular scene of him finally bringing down the Narwhal — the screen abruptly went dark.
"That's all for now. Everything past this point is paid content. You can't watch it yet."
Before anyone could even protest, Noah's Ark delivered that line.
"Paid content?! You're doing this on purpose!" Genta fumed.
He had spoken for every single one of them.
Even Conan and Haibara felt a flash of indignation — after all, no one could watch a story cut off right at its climax and remain unmoved.
At the same time, Conan found himself surprised. He had never imagined Noah's Ark would have this sort of personality. When he'd first heard its declaration, he'd assumed it would be the composed, coldly logical type — and yet here it was, pulling pranks. Right now, it seemed less like some terrifying artificial intelligence and more like an ordinary little boy.