"──What's wrong? I thought I had prepared a drink that would suit your taste... Didn't it agree with your palate?"

The sun had set in the west, and the curtain of night descended. In the courtyard of the ground base Eden, surrounded by flower beds with colorful flowers, there were two figures inside a gazebo.

Seated on facing benches, each of them held a glass with matching designs in one hand.

One half of the pair—a young man clad in a camouflage-patterned jacket—tilted the glass he held.

Taking a sip into his mouth, narrowing his eyes as he swallowed, he eventually exhaled a breath rich with the scent of alcohol through his nose.

"...Ah... Indeed, it has the taste I like."

"Is that so."

There seemed to be no falsehood in those words. The first sip of the tasting was over, and from the second sip, the glass was tilted more significantly.

The Adam's apple moved, and the contents of the glass gradually diminished. Eventually, the glass was dry.

"What kind of drink is this?"

"It's a distilled spirit made from wheat, just for experimentation. The water used was drawn from underground."

"I see."

Whether discovered in ancient records or made out of curiosity, either way, good things are good.

The other half with ice-blue eyes—Johann—held the bottle. In response, Moore also extended an empty glass.

The bottle tilted, and the colorless, transparent liquor poured in.

"──Thanks for cooperating with the operation."

"──That's fine. But more than that... I wanted an apology for the fact that Unchained wasn't the initial shot."

It seems he hasn't forgotten. It's only natural, Johan thought, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

"...I did intend to deceive you to deceive Nihilister as well."

"...Did it seem foolish or naive for me to willingly reveal my trump card to the enemy?"

Surprised, Moore quickly emptied the glass he held, pouring the strong distilled alcohol into his mouth. Although Johan wished he could savor it a bit more, he couldn't entirely fault the frustration.

"I'm sorry."

"Well, I don't really mind that much. I heard you carried me all the way here to Eden after I passed out. That's enough to call it even."

"...Did you hear that from Cecil?"

He nodded and affirmed, rummaging through the chest pocket of his combat jacket. He lightly shook the soft pack he pulled out, holding a cigarette between his lips.

Next, he opened the lid of an oil lighter, but...

"...What's wrong?"

"...No, it's nothing."

Johann felt a slight delay in lighting the fire. However, as if regaining his composure, he rotated the wheel, striking it against flint to produce sparks, and used the ignited flame to toast the tip of the cigarette.

"...So, what are your plans now? Are you going back to the Ark?"

"I haven't decided clearly yet. We just had a battle with the Heretics. Whether I return to the Ark or not, I need to check the condition of my subordinates first."

"Hmm," Johann nodded, taking a sip from the glass he poured with his own hand and swallowing a mouthful.

─Surprising that he can drink this like it's water.

Despite having almost his entire body replaced with machinery, the strength of the alcohol was still evident. It wasn't something a flesh-and-blood human could casually drink.

Whether to be amazed or exasperated, Johann, looked at the other party holding a cigarette between his fingers. He watched as Moore picked up the glass and brought the alcohol to his lips.

"─In that case, it might be good to stay in Eden for a while."

"...Hmm?"

With a puzzled look, Moore narrowed his dark brown eyes. Apparently, he found it unexpected that he wasn't being told to leave now that his business was done.

"...Is it that surprising?"

"...Well, to some extent."

"...Cheeky youngster. I won't ask what you imagined, but I was starting to acknowledge you a bit."

It seems a reevaluation is necessary. Johan isn't sure which time this is, but it doesn't matter.

"...Your tactics are too outdated. I speculate that when facing Rapture, you intend to move forward even before Nikke and the others."

"...How did you figure that out?"

Whether he thought it was unknown or not, Johann couldn't blame him for directing a surprised gaze at his lively junior.

"Fuuhh....Your tactics are too old-fashioned. I assume you wouldn't hesitate to engage in close combat with Rapture. You should be more flexible. ─If it were me, I could guide you. During your stay, I'll even give you some lectures."

A suspicious gaze ─ that's what Johann noticed was being directed from this cheeky junior. With a thin wry smile, realizing that his glass was empty, he directed the bottle he grabbed towards him.

"Unbelievable, isn't it? I don't know if there are still those who remember, but I was called the New Star by the Ark's media."

"...New Star..."

"That's right."

Holding the glass and bringing it to his lips, Moore retraced his memories.

"New Star" ─ that alias sounded familiar. Was it from some kind of database?

After about 10 seconds of silence, he eventually let out a small "ah" as if remembering.

"The commander who played a significant role in the Second Ground Reconquest War ─ Hmm? Wait... that should have been more than half a century ago..."

He appeared to be in his twenties, at least in terms of appearance. Youthfulness could be quite something.

Of course, this is assuming it's genuine ─

"...No, assuming is terribly rude. That would be impolite. ─ Should I call you 'senior' from now on?"

Suddenly changing his attitude like this ─ it was unsettling to say the least.

Despite already not having a human body, Johann couldn't help but feel a sensation of goosebumps.

---

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.

Exiting the shower room attached to the room, he roughly dried his hair with a towel, removing the moisture. Then, he absorbed the water droplets from his entire body. When he finished, he let out a big sigh.

He unintentionally stared at his own reflection in the mirror on the sink in front of the shower room.

His hair, with an equal distribution of black and white strands, creating a mixture that might appear gray from a distance.

"...Four years, maybe five."

Surprise ─ it wasn't that much. Everyone dies at least once.

However, the existence of a way to die other than in battle ─ that was surprising, Moore recalled.

According to the assessment results from the prodigy, Cecil, Moore had a high probability of dying in the not-so-distant future.

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"...Traces of radiation exposure..."

"Radiation exposure?"

"Yes. Upon examining the blood taken, we found abnormalities in your chromosomes. It closely resembles the conditions when exposed to a large amount of radiation. ...I apologize, but have you ever worked at the Ark's nuclear power plant in the past? Or perhaps experienced nuclear disasters, or approached an ancient-era nuclear power plant during a mission?"

Of course, he hadn't. Shaking his head left and right, he made a gesture of denial. Cecil looked puzzled and crossed her arms lightly beneath her chest.

"I see... considering that..."

──With so much DNA severed, why is he still alive?

As a possibility, his chromosomal abnormality ─ severe spermatogenic dysfunction ─ could be the cause.

However, if Moore has no memory of a situation involving exposure to a large amount of radiation, then it's a dead end.

"...From your blood, we detected a significant amount of substances that activate neurotransmitters such as serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine in the brain... any idea about this?"

"...What kind of substances are those?"

Unfortunately, he was an amateur in that field. In response to his inquiry, the prodigy searched for an expression that even a layman like him could understand.

"...To put it quite simply, these are substances that activate neurotransmitters in the brain, causing effects such as involvement in aggressive behavior, experiencing pleasure and euphoria, and increasing heart rate and blood pressure. Do you have any clues?"

"...Well, to say I have none would be a lie."

Interpreting involvement in aggressive behavior as becoming more combative, he came up with a possible clue.

"...The syringe."

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---

Flicking the almost burned-out cigarette into a portable ashtray, he sat on the edge of the bed and closed the lid of the portable ashtray. He placed it on the bedside table and then picked up a flat silver metal case.

The contents contained several needleless syringes, but the blank spaces indicated the number of doses used.

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"Tomorrow, please give me one. It's still a possibility, but it may contain potent drugs that affect the sympathetic nervous system."

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"However... it's a powerful drug. Avoid using it excessively. Think of it as a loan in front of your life... I hesitated whether to give it to you or not."

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.

First, Cecil's voice in the lab echoed in his mind, then the words spoken by Anderson when he was handed this case on the eve of the all-out battle.

"...A loan in front of life, huh."

"...As I mentioned earlier, your DNA is damaged in many places, missing pieces here and there. It's rather miraculous why you're still alive. However, there's a high probability that you'll suffer from diseases such as leukemia or malignant neoplasms within a few years. Medicine can be prescribed to delay onset, but it's merely buying time. Once symptoms occur, you will suffer seizures. Your life expectancy is currently at most 4 years, maybe 5. That's my diagnosis."

"...How long I can live is not the issue."

Moore scoffed at Cecil's resonating words in his mind, closed the case, and placed it on the bedside table.

"...The issue is how long I can fight."

Cecil suggested consulting an Ark doctor for a second opinion, but Eden had technology and scientific capabilities that surpassed the Ark by half a century.

So, most likely, there would be no misdiagnosis. Unfortunately, that wasn't something to be happy about.

While Cecil recommended quitting smoking, he ignored it and lightly shook the soft pack.

Rather than being cautious about diseases that might develop years later, what he sought was nicotine and tar.

He lit the cigarette he pulled out with the unique metallic sound of an oil lighter opening to the tip.

As the purple smoke wafted, just as he meaninglessly stared into space, a buzzer for a summons echoed in the room.

"...Come in."

The time displayed on the wristwatch wound around his left inner wrist was 21:40.

Even though he hadn't made an appointment to meet anyone, he verbally gave permission for someone to enter.

As the door to the room opened, Moore recognized the familiar figure stepping inside.

"Excuse me. How are you feeling?"

"Rapi, huh? Ah, I'm fine."

Confirming the commander's presence, the squad leader directed her crimson eyes at him, and immediately, her brows furrowed.

"...I apologize for the late hour. I thought of reporting the squad's casualties..."

"Ah, right... I hadn't received the report yet. No need to bother coming here. You can report orally."

Moore, only halfway through his cigarette, couldn't be bothered to put it out to listen to the report. Perhaps it was too late to do so.

As he reached for the portable ashtray to extinguish the cigarette, a refined voice stopped him.

"Ah, you can stay in that position. Anis and Neon didn't suffer significant damage. Injuries were minimal."

"...That's good."

A sigh of relief accompanied the purple smoke.

The scene appeared unchanged from usual. However, Rapi sensed that something was different. There was no absolute certainty, but the feeling of discomfort was strong.

"...Is something the matter?"

"...What do you mean?"

For a moment, the deep brown eyes were directed at him. Immediately, the gaze shifted away, and the finished cigarette was thrown into the portable ashtray.

With a quiet sigh, she approached with legs clad in high-heeled shoes. Soon after sitting down next to him, she took off her shoes and climbed onto the bed.

Facing his back, she reached over his black short-sleeved shirt-clad back and grabbed his shoulders. She pulled him close, and with her own thigh as a pillow, she laid Moore down on his back.

"Is something wrong?"

"...No, nothing..."

—Still not good at lying.

Lying on his back, Moore's expression, now forced to be shown, showed no significant change.

However, they had a long history together. At least, it wasn't the typical relationship between a commander and Nikke. There was no way she wouldn't notice any subtle change in his behavior.

"...Really?"

Once again, when she asked, he let out a deep sigh, turned his head away from her, but kept it resting on Rapi's thigh.

"...Just a little... well... I was able to be cautious, that's all."

"...Cautious?"

"Yeah, that's right. Cautious."

Whether it could be said to be a big deal or not, was he feeling this discomfort for that reason alone?

Internally shaking her head, Rapi caught a glimpse of his profile slightly visible from the rich cleavage of the sleeveless shirt.

"...Today was quite busy. I'm a bit... tired."

Something was still off.

He openly admitted that he was tired. Those words came from him, who rarely uttered such complaints. The feeling of discomfort was intensified.

"...Can I leave it like this... let me sleep for 30 minutes."

"...Understood. If anything happens, I'll wake you."

"Thank you."

However, the thanks were as usual. This brought some relief to Rapi.

"—Rapi."

It was like a substitute for an eye mask. Moore placed his arm over his closed eyes as he prepared to fall asleep.

Thinking that he would probably drift off like this, he called Rapi's name.

"I will keep fighting until the end. I promise. I won't cause trouble for you guys... in return, please don't abandon me."

What did he mean by that? Rapi tried to ask, but faint snores began to be heard immediately. It was only a moment, but he seemed to have fallen asleep skillfully.

"Good night..."

Even if she asked about the true meaning behind his words, he probably wouldn't tell her. She was quite certain of that.

If it was something important, he would eventually tell her — that was the only thing to hope for.

Her slender fingers stroked his head, where black and white hair grew in equal proportions.

Although his eyes were hidden, Rapi, without getting tired of it, continued to gaze at him until he woke up.