Everyone’s mad—not just one person’s insane. Lunatics who believe abnormality is normal, casting aside shared notions of incomprehensibility or confusion. Some mocked Aeshma’s crisis, others wept in anguish, and some clutched their stomachs, laughing like they’d lost their minds. Crucible members, pierced by chain Gatling bullets, scattering blood and flesh, were puppets shaped like humans crawling from chaos. Products of madness, unaware of their own insanity.

  Even if Aeshma died, it’d only mean the collective lost its head. If a replacement emerged, the Crucible would reform like an amoeba, regenerating a new head to fill the void and persist. Individuals formed the collective, and the collective, driven by the head’s insatiable desires, charged forward. Its structure and ethos were less an organization, more a colossal multicellular organism.

  Thus, Aeshma laughed. Like the lunatics surrounding her, she let out a shrill cackle, converting pain into pleasure, savoring danger signals as sweet nectar. Her pale pink lips trembled, sensually rubbing her swollen wounds. Aeshma was abnormality incarnate, a mad leader with incomprehensible thought patterns. Danan couldn’t hide his shudder at the empress’s lascivious, bewitching smile.

  He held the power to break her arm, to take her life instantly. Deploying his mechanical arm’s high-frequency blade, he could slit her white throat, spraying blood to end this lunatic. That would banish the chill crawling up his spine. But it was impossible. Losing Aeshma’s shield would turn Damocles’ bullets on him. Retreating wouldn’t work either—the encircling madmen wouldn’t let him escape. He cursed his naive, foolish underestimation of the Crucible’s madness.

  “What’ll you do, Black Man? Kill me?” Aeshma purred. “Go ahead. Bathe in my warm blood. What’s it gonna be?”

  “Shut up…!” Danan growled.

  “Why so pained? I’m the one hurting, suffering. You’re not in pain, not suffering. Right?”

  “I said shut up!”

  Cold sweat poured from him, her words stabbing his brain. A venomous snake embracing evil, swallowing sin… To Aeshma, good and evil, crime and punishment, were meaningless, valueless. She accepted everything, affirmed it, never denying.

  What now? Trapped, would he just die? No, dying would be better. Falling to Aeshma’s hands, body and soul, would be a living death. He refused that, even in death.

  His ragged breaths burned his throat, his racing heart ached. Repaired wounds throbbed relentlessly. Each passing moment eroded his mental leeway, leaving him cornered. He had to act, do something, or he’d die—torn to pieces, no question.

  His boots crunched collapsed concrete, debris falling. Glancing at Damocles raining bullets mid-air, Danan spotted multiple shadows moving on a rooftop.

  Those shadows… The Parade of the Dead? No, they wouldn’t intervene in a profitless fight. They weren’t that kind. Then who— “Danan, heat signatures detected. Flashbang,” Nephthys warned. A blinding light engulfed his vision.

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  “—!?”

  Burning retinas, tear-inducing agents in the air. The anti-machine flashbang, laced with chaff effects, temporarily disabled Danan’s mechanical arm, turning it into dead weight.

  “Danan! Message from the Parade’s leader! Reinforcements sent—survive, escape, now!” Lils shouted.

  Blinding light and disrupted balance affected not just Danan but Aeshma and the lunatics. Even Damocles moved erratically, like a fly buzzing around a light.

  Escape…? No, this was a chance. While Damocles’ systems were scrambled, while Aeshma and her madmen reeled, he could kill them all. Escaping only delayed the endless pursuit. If they’d chase him forever, he’d kill them.

  “Danan, what are you doing!? Move!” Lils urged.

  “I’m gonna kill them…!” he roared.

  “What are you saying? This is your last chance! When else—”

  “It’s a chance, alright! A once-in-a-lifetime shot to kill both leaders! Lils, you know it! If we don’t kill them, they’ll keep coming until we’re dead! So—”

  Kill them! Lumina’s bugs restored his vision. Deploying his wave-motion cannon, Danan issued orders to Nephthys. “Fire the cannon! Target: Damocles!”

  “Error,” Nephthys replied.

  “What—”

  “Insufficient thermal energy. Firing requires injury. Wave-motion cannon inoperable. Assistance from Eve required.”

  The cannon retracted. Clicking his tongue, Danan saw an assault rifle and a large-caliber anti-armor rifle thrown at his feet.

  “Fresh from the mid-level city. Use them well,” a voice said.

  “You—”

  “Don’t ask. Some things are better unknown. This is for Tefira. My feelings don’t matter, and I couldn’t care less about you. I’m helping because she asked.”

  The shadow—Materia—spoke and vanished into the air. Danan grabbed the weapons, checked their ammo, and dove into the building’s shadow, activating his arm’s auto-targeting.

  “Targeting correction—complete. Recoil control—complete. Ready to fire,” Nephthys reported.

  Her voice echoed in his mind, Lils’ heavy sigh in his ear. Pulling the trigger, the anti-armor rifle’s bullet, propelled by fierce recoil, hit Damocles’ electromagnetic barrier, sparking purple lightning before melting.

  As expected, standard bullets couldn’t pierce the barrier. To break that absolute defense and kill Damocles, only Code Onimus would do. But if he couldn’t finish Damocles within its time limit, or if it only burned the notebook, he’d face a grueling fight with the Crucible.

  Biting his lip, ejecting the empty casing, Danan muttered, “Lils, track the flashbang’s effect duration.” Hesitating at her question—“What about Aeshma? When will you kill her?”

  Aeshma, still under the flashbang’s effects, writhed, seeming to revel in it. A bullet to the head would end her, but as a useful shield—a spiked meat wall—she was tricky to handle.

  “Hey, Liars!” Lils exclaimed.

  “Danan, you okay?” a gruff male voice asked.

  “Barely,” Danan replied, wincing at the blood-mixed rasp in his voice as Liars laughed.

  “Found Hakara?” Liars asked.

  “…”

  “Guess not. Forgot, huh? You want to save Eve, right? Then you need Hakara’s Deck. No time to mess with Damocles and Aeshma’s whore, got it?”

  Right, Liars was right. First, complete the mission, then retrieve Hakara. The chaos of Damocles’ intrusion and the heated battle had made him lose sight of his goal. Taking two deep breaths, Danan slung the rifles over his back and darted through the building gaps.

  “And Lils? You’re the one holding Danan’s reins through comms. Step it up!” Liars chided.

  “Ugh… If Danan listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess…” Lils muttered.

  “Still, a woman’s job is to keep a man in line! Get up and do it right!” Liars barked.

  “…Danan, you heard her. Hakara’s in Aeshma’s stronghold. I got a map from Liars, so I’ll guide you,” Lils said.

  “Thanks,” Danan replied, sprinting toward the pleasure district, black smoke rising against the light-wrapped buildings.