Reunion in the Abyss
The passage of reunion was dark and endless. Though wide enough for countless people to walk abreast, she traversed it alone. The silence was so complete that the only sounds echoing through the enclosed space were her own footsteps and breathing. The path ahead was treacherous and bleak, stirring endless fear, yet Ellyse Bertman did not stop. She kept running. Toward the faint, beautiful light shimmering in the distance. Chasing that radiance. She had no idea what lay beyond it. That very uncertainty filled her with fresh dread, but she pressed forward, one steady step at a time. In that way, she passed through the long corridor of her life—a map no one had ever seen, a path no one could ever witness.
At last she reached the dazzling brilliance she had once glimpsed. Ellyse closed her eyes and flailed. Then, finally, she opened them.
Inspector Ellyse Bertman had come face to face with the villain.
She met her childhood hero.
REUNION.
It had been a long wait. Long enough to bring tears to her eyes without warning. Yet even as Inspector Ellyse choked back sobs, she did what she had to do. For the sake of justice.
The inspector leveled her gun at the hero. Because that was what duty demanded.
Ellyse Bertman had run all her life to reach this moment. Today was no different.
What must it feel like to finally meet someone you have longed for over many years? If you encountered the prince who once saved you as a child, what emotions would rise within you?
Even after becoming an adult, Ellyse Bertman occasionally found herself wondering. Was that person living well? Was he still out there saving others? If he saw her now, a fully fledged inspector, would he praise her and say she had done well?
Unable to resolve the resentment from that day, she had piled up questions in every direction. She had also wished, always, that they might meet again someday.
But not like this.
Inspector Bertman had never wanted to meet her hero drenched in human blood inside the laboratory of a mad scientist. Beyond the brief flash of joy, what surged through her was shock, terror, a crushing sense of responsibility, and doubt.
…Why?
Ellyse Bertman had never forgotten the memory of being rescued by him as a child. She could never forget. Therefore, she recognized at once that the man before her was that very hero.
Good heavens—he was wearing the exact same outfit as ten years ago.
She felt a rush of gladness at his unchanged appearance. And then she felt horror at the sight of him covered in red blood that was unmistakably different from the blood of monsters.
He had beaten to death the researchers who participated in human experimentation and the monsters they created, all to save someone. That was how Ellyse chose to understand it. Even if he had committed murder, it must have been to save lives. She wanted desperately to believe that.
Yet if that red blood truly belonged to people, then the fact that he was a murderer who had carried out private punishment remained unchanged. Under the laws of Westania, he was a criminal. Before he was the hero who had saved her as a child, he was a suspect she, as an inspector, was obligated to arrest.
Ellyse Bertman felt a terrible fear at that realization.
I have to arrest this man?
Even as the question rang in her mind, her hands moved with dutiful precision. Perhaps it was the aftershock of the day’s real combat. The sense of duty she carried as an inspector confronting evil suppressed her doubts and acted first.
Click. The sound of chambering a round sounded unusually loud today.
…Ah.
Ellyse Bertman realized she was pointing a gun at the hero of her childhood. She realized he was looking straight at her.
Did he recognize me?
The moment that question arose, she knew she had to speak.
“You are under arrest for committing a crime in my presence.”
So she said it.
Ellyse Bertman noticed only then that her vision had grown blurry. She felt ashamed of herself for still being unable to hide her tears, the traces of her soft heart. Why had she come all the way here? She felt an unreasonable resentment toward the man before her. And she felt fear. She prayed he would surrender quietly so she would never have to shoot him. At the same time, she hoped she would never have to see him in handcuffs. She wished they could both live out their lives without any such terrible event occurring. She harbored those completely contradictory desires.
Ellyse Bertman no longer knew what she was doing, or what she ought to do. She tried to regain her composure by breathing as slowly as possible, then took cautious steps toward the suspect she was supposed to apprehend.
The distance between them was finally closing.
On the other hand, Demian Cloud watched her with a momentarily dazed expression.
…Why is she here?
Demian was bewildered for several reasons. He had never heard that she was participating in this operation, nor had he imagined they would meet in this place. Because he knew her identity. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to encounter her like this—his entire body drenched in blood. It had to be that damned demon’s doing. He was certain of it, yet he could not shake off his current discomfort.
I saved you.
He had no intention of saying it outright or showing it. But neither had he expected to have a gun pointed at him by the very person he had personally rescued.
Demian subtly lowered his gaze and quickly scanned his own appearance. A pitch-black mask covering his entire face. A skintight suit stained with green and red blood. He was no child; he was a grown man dressed like this. Of course, if someone suddenly ran into him at a crime scene, it was only natural for them to aim a gun at him. He could understand the sentiment, yet the situation remained just as awkward.
Whether she remembered this appearance or not, it was an exceedingly troublesome predicament.
“Raise both hands above your head.”
Even if she said it with that tearful face, there was no way he could comply. He could not throw away everything he had built simply for the sake of one person’s achievement and memory.
Demian took a hesitant step backward, his hands neither fully raised nor lowered. Each time he retreated a few steps, the inspector advanced the same distance. The gap between them refused to close.
“…What are you doing? Stop immediately.”
It repeated endlessly.
Why am I doing this?
Demian felt a surge of doubt. Why was he humoring this ridiculous charade? Shouldn’t he be escaping the scene right now and grabbing that damned demon by the collar? What on earth was making him face this inspector with such half-hearted behavior? There was no chance a mere pistol could pierce his suit and kill him, so what was he afraid of? He should ignore this long-awaited reunion, take a few bullets if necessary, and simply leave. Shouldn’t he?
…Hah.
Demian Cloud looked at the inspector, who was still crying with a troubled expression. Even in this moment, she was diligently closing the distance, step by step. Demian stopped moving, clenched his eyes shut, and finally made his decision.
Yes. If he wasn’t going to surrender quietly…
I am Demian Cloud!
If he wasn’t going to reveal himself and go to prison… then he should stop toying with her and leave this place at once. That was the right thing to do.
His hesitation had been long, but his action was swift. The moment he decided, Demian Cloud turned his back on Ellyse and ran.
The inspector had already sensed his intent. Yet she could neither shoot nor stand still, so she simply chased after him.
“S-stop! If you do not comply, I will fire! I really will shoot, so please stop!”
Announcing a shooting schedule even she herself could not predict, she blindly pursued the villain before her.
Demian glanced back for a moment and felt his mind reel at the dizzying sight. He pressed a hand to his forehead, beginning to debate whether he should subdue her first before continuing his escape—
──────────Click.
The primer cried out. Perhaps the sound had not even been audible, yet the villain noticed the omen. He instinctively knew what was about to happen. So he halted his flight, spun around completely, and ran straight toward the inspector.
And then he witnessed it.
In the distance, the laboratory wall suddenly swelled outward, followed by a burst of roaring flames. The ground shook. The floor shattered and crumbled, and through the collapsing debris, the inspector fell. Ellyse Bertman, suspended in midair. A young lamb with a dazed expression, clearly unaware of what had just occurred.
Demian had no time to rationally judge whether his current actions aligned with his purpose. He simply threw himself forward. He caught her flailing hand. Then pulled her straight into his arms.
Ah. I’ve done it now.
With that thought, fragments of the laboratory and piles of rubble rained down on Demian’s head like a violent storm. And he, too, fell downward. Still clutching the woman in his arms tightly.
They fell.
“…Ugh.”
Ellyse Bertman groaned at the throbbing in her head and the faint pain spreading through her entire body, then opened her eyes. The surroundings were dark. Something blocked the space, making it narrow. It was probably debris from the building—piles of rubble. And someone was right in front of her.
The moment Ellyse realized this, something began to drip, drip onto her face. After a little more time, once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she understood what it was.
Blood was dripping steadily from the cracked mask. The hero who was holding up every piece of debris above her was bleeding.
“…Ah.”
He was dying.