When Shiomi opened Olga Marie's door, even he couldn't help but be startled.
It had only been a day since he last saw her, yet she looked visibly more haggard. Wrapped in a blanket, she sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, her back against it, frail and withered.
He had planned to bring her something to eat, maybe say a few comforting words.
But this was worse than last time.
"…Teacher?"
She raised her exhausted eyes and greeted him softly.
"You're awake?"
Shiomi set the tray down on the table and started to crouch to help her up. But she was hugging her knees tightly, curled into herself at the edge of the bed. There was no way to pull her up without forcing her.
So he simply sat down beside her.
Olga Marie didn't answer. She only gave a faint nod.
"Try not to dwell too much on the 'Alien God.' That wasn't something you, as the Director of Chaldea or as Lord Animusphere, could have prevented," Shiomi said quietly. "We should—"
"I read the report."
She pressed her lips together and forced the words out, her voice nearly breaking into a sob.
Shiomi fell silent.
He suddenly realized his mistake. He shouldn't have sent her the report so quickly. He should have waited until she had steadied herself.
"Teacher… what am I, really?"
She buried her face in her drawn-up knees. Her voice was thick with pain.
It was a grave question. One that cut straight to the core.
A question that should never have needed to exist—one she had never doubted before.
And yet, the truth behind the Bleaching had dragged it into the open. It was now clawing at her heart, demanding an answer.
Shiomi found himself unable to respond.
"If I was born as a Magus just to become part of Chaldeas… then the 'Alien God' standing there as Chaldea's enemy—everyone's enemy—is that the real me? And I… am I just a counterfeit stuffed inside a doll?"
"Marie."
Shiomi realized her sense of self was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.
Perhaps that was the true purpose of the 'Alien Planet' all along. To deliberately appear in Olga Marie's form—as Beast VII—just to throw Chaldea into disarray.
To shatter Olga Marie Animusphere from within.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
She covered her face, tears spilling through her fingers.
"I don't even know what I'm saying…"
It had been her teacher who gave her the precious spare doll Touko prepared, meant to serve as her new body.
It had been her teacher who pulled her back from a situation she never should have survived.
And yet now she was rejecting this self, convincing herself that the one who died in that explosion was the real Olga Marie.
"You don't need to apologize. It's only natural you'd think that way."
Shiomi gently took her hands and lowered them, wiping away her tears with a tissue.
"The appearance of the 'Alien God,' the true nature of the 'Alien Planet,' the truth behind the Bleaching… they all point back to your origins. To the thousand-year legacy of Animusphere."
He offered her a gentle, reassuring smile.
"You're going through an identity crisis. That's all."
"Because the 'Alien God' looks like you, you want to deny everything—to deny the legitimacy of your own existence. If you can deny yourself, then maybe you can deny this entire crisis of Human Order along with it."
He paused.
"But even if you deny it… that won't change the facts that have already come to pass."
"So that means I am the 'Alien God,' and the 'Alien God' is me. Otherwise… why would it look like that?"
Olga Marie forced out a smile, but it was more painful to see than tears.
Shiomi's gentleness only made it worse. If he weren't holding her face like this, she wouldn't even be able to look him in the eye.
Her original body. The Animusphere Magic Crest. All of it had been prepared as material for the birth of the 'Alien God.'
She herself had been a piece on the board from the very beginning.
More than that… the root of the disaster.
"That's not true. It's not…" Shiomi tried to deny it, but the words felt hollow even to him.
Self-awareness. Identity.
Those were things even ordinary people held dear.
And Olga Marie had always been proud.
As a first-rate Magus. As the Lord of Animusphere. Everything about being a Magus was the source of her confidence, the foundation of her self-worth.
Now that very foundation had been shattered.
Her talent. Her title. Her position. All of it had been cultivated by Marisbury for a plan whose full scope she had never known. For the family's 'Grand Order.'
If Marisbury had not died, Olga Marie's fate would never have been so simple as inheriting the Lordship and taking over as Director of Chaldea.
She had never hated the father who rarely showed her warmth or affection. On the contrary, she had respected him from the bottom of her heart.
And now even that respect felt like a cruel joke.
Understanding that Magi often lacked conventional morality was one thing.
Truly accepting it… and becoming one of them… was another.
If it were easy, she would never have been shaken by what happened to Mash.
Shiomi understood all of this.
And because he did, he found himself unable to offer empty reassurances.
He could only pull her into his arms and hold her tightly.
The warmth of him—unfamiliar, yet comforting—made her freeze for a moment. Then the tears came all at once. She clutched him instinctively, like someone drowning grabbing the only thing keeping her afloat.
If there was one decisive difference between her and the 'Alien God,' it was this—
She could feel the pain.
The feelings she had tried so hard to suppress, tried so hard to ignore, surged back to life in that moment.
"Teacher… please tell me I'm different from the 'Alien God.' I am, right?"
"Marie…?"
Shiomi stiffened for a split second.
Her arms had already slipped around his neck. Her body pressed against him as she slowly leaned closer, searching for his lips.
He should probably stop her.
He knew that.
But if even he pushed her away now… if even he rejected her… who would pull Olga Marie back from the brink?
There was more than affection in her darkened eyes.
He had always known how she felt. He had always kept a careful distance.
But now there was something else there—desperation.
A struggle between affirming herself and denying herself.
She didn't know what to believe anymore.
So she reached for him, as if he might hold the answer.
Before her expression could tip fully into panic at failing to reach him, Shiomi slowly lowered his head—and answered her.