Staring at the katana in his hand, Hiro glanced at the wound on his daughter's neck—and in that instant, everything clicked.
An illusion…
It was all just a damn illusion.
The monsters he thought he'd been cutting down? They were his teammates. Every last one of them. And yet, somehow, he'd still seen them fighting beside him.
Thud!
Hiro dropped to his knees. His eyes were hollow, lifeless—drained of all color. With his daughter's death, whatever will he had left to survive vanished with her.
This brutal apocalypse… it was nothing but despair. No miracles. No hope.
His whole escape, all the running and fighting—it was like a fish flopping on dry land. A few desperate flips, and then… the inevitable.
Hiro knelt there, frozen. The kind of grief that doesn't scream or cry—just sinks in, deep and silent.
"You can die with some clarity now," came a calm voice from behind him.
