Flames blurred every boundary.
The rising heat haze painted over every outline, making them indistinct. Amid a battlefield surrounded by reddish shadows—the sources of heat and light—hung the desolate smell of burning.
Two women stood there.
The outcome was obvious. The black-haired girl stood proudly on her feet, while the gray-haired woman remained collapsed on the ground, desperately gulping down what little oxygen remained.
But the heat did not melt only the scenery.
If one followed the source of the two gazes meeting across the distance between them, one would discover expressions entirely at odds with their circumstances.
A devastated face.
A bitter smile.
At first glance, it seemed as though their positions had been reversed.
The monster who had once been her friend moved her lips, then bit down on them.
The voice she spat out was ragged beyond recognition.
“……You’re asking if I’m happy?”
Seria staggered back to her feet.
Her pupils were unfocused, but the flames burning within those eyes remained unchanged.
The same was true of Celine’s pupils across from her.
At last, cracks began spreading through the dried-up lake.
Like parched mud splitting apart.
Like a volcano trembling just before eruption.
“Of course I am.”