The hallway outside the office remained quiet.
Scrapper walked alone toward the restroom at the end of the corridor.
He pushed the door open.
Creak...
The room was empty.
Only the faint drip of water echoed from the sink.
Scrapper stepped inside and stood before the mirror.
"..."
He turned on the faucet.
Cold water flowed over his hands.
He splashed it onto his face.
"...Maybe I'm just tired."
He looked up.
His reflection stared back at him.
For a moment...
everything looked normal.
Then—
his head suddenly felt light.
"...What..."
He grabbed the edge of the sink to steady himself.
"I shouldn't be..."
"...feeling like this."
He closed his eyes for a second.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly looked back into the mirror.
His heart skipped a beat.
Standing behind his reflection—
was a dark figure.
Its features were impossible to make out.
Only a black silhouette remained, motionless.
Scrapper spun around.
"...!"
Nothing.
The bathroom was empty.
His breathing became heavier.
"...No."
He looked back at the mirror.
The dark reflection was still there.
Standing silently behind him.
"No..."
He shook his head.
"No..."
"That's not happening."
His mechanical tentacles twitched uneasily behind his back as he continued staring into the mirror, unable to tell whether he was seeing an intruder...
...or something only he could see.
Flashback...
The wind blew through the empty road.
A lone figure stumbled forward.
Step...
Step...
Scrapper.
His clothes were torn.
Blood covered the side of his face.
One of his mechanical tentacles hung broken behind him.
The rest sparked weakly with every step.
His mechanical arm was gone.
Only a bloodied stump remained beneath the torn sleeve.
His remaining hand trembled from exhaustion.
"...Hah..."
"...Hah..."
Every breath hurt.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
Still—
he kept walking.
At last, the familiar buildings of Morguin Town appeared in the distance.
Scrapper stopped.
His vision blurred.
"...So..."
"...I made it."
He continued down the quiet street until he reached a small hill.
There—
stood a large tree with a wooden treehouse built into its branches.
Scrapper's eyes widened slightly.
Shiro stood beneath the tree.
Beside him was Mina.
Fresh flowers rested at the foot of the trunk.
Mina buried her face against Shiro's shoulder.
Soft sobs escaped her.
Shiro gently held her, saying nothing as he looked at the flowers.
Scrapper immediately understood.
"...They..."
"...thought I was dead."
He leaned against the wall of a nearby building.
A sharp pain shot through his body.
"...Tch..."
Blood dripped from his fingertips onto the ground.
For several moments...
he simply watched them from afar.
A small smile slowly appeared on his battered face.
"...You're alive."
"...Both of you."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Then quietly pushed himself away from the wall.
Without calling their names...
Without taking another step toward them...
Scrapper turned around.
He walked away in silence.
His footsteps disappeared into the evening, leaving Shiro and Mina unaware that the man they had mourned had been only a short distance away, watching them one last time before vanishing back into the world.
Jaha Town...
Night had already fallen.
Rainwater dripped from the rooftops as a cloaked figure staggered through the streets.
It was Scrapper.
A dark cloak hid his face.
His broken mechanical tentacles were wrapped tightly beneath the fabric.
Every few steps—
he winced.
"...Tch..."
His missing arm throbbed beneath the bandages.
Blood still seeped through the cloth despite his efforts to stop it.
He turned into a narrow alley, hoping to avoid the crowded streets.
The alley was dimly lit by a single lantern.
Scrapper leaned against the cold brick wall.
"...Just..."
"...a little longer."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Then—
a voice echoed from deeper within the alley.
"Who's there?"
Scrapper's eyes snapped open.
He slowly straightened himself despite the pain.
His remaining hand instinctively moved toward the knife at his waist.
The alley fell silent again.
Only the sound of dripping water echoed between the walls as Scrapper stared into the darkness, waiting for whoever had spoken to reveal themselves.
The voice grew closer.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
He wore a grey hat pulled low over his head.
A long black cloak concealed most of his body.
Scrapper narrowed his eyes.
"...Who are you?"
The stranger continued walking.
As he passed beneath the lantern, his face came into view.
An expressionless white mask.
Like a face that showed no emotion at all.
😐
He stopped a few steps away.
Scrapper remained on guard despite his injuries.
"...Scrapper."
"Member of the Calamity Table."
The masked man gave a small nod.
"A Noctarion."
His voice was flat.
Calm.
Without emotion.
Scrapper frowned, searching his memory.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"...Oh."
"You're that one."
"The Fourth Noctarion..."
"...Void."
Void nodded once.
"It's a pity..."
"...to see you like this."
His tone never changed.
It was as emotionless as the mask he wore.
Scrapper let out a weak chuckle.
"Yeah..."
"Yeah."
"Thanks for caring."
Void stood silently for a moment.
Then he slowly raised one hand.
"Look at my finger, please."
Scrapper blinked.
"...Why?"
Void's answer came in the same calm voice.
"Please."
"Look."
Scrapper sighed.
"...Fine."
His eyes followed Void's raised finger.
Void slowly moved it...
...from right...
...to left.
Back and forth.
Smoothly.
Silently.
Scrapper's gaze followed the movement.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
The pain in his body seemed to fade.
His tense expression gradually disappeared.
His eyes became unfocused.
He stopped speaking.
He stopped moving.
Void lowered his hand.
He studied Scrapper for a brief moment.
"...Good."
Without another word, the Fourth Noctarion turned around.
His black cloak disappeared into the darkness of the alley.
Scrapper remained standing where he was—
silent...
motionless...
staring blankly into the empty space where Void had been only moments before.
Back to the present...
The bathroom door slowly opened.
Creak...
Scrapper stepped into the hallway.
His head was lowered.
His footsteps were slow.
Rin looked over and smirked.
"What took you so long?"
Scrapper didn't answer.
He simply stared at Rin.
Rin's smile faded.
"...Scrapper?"
Alya frowned.
"Scrapper?"
For a brief moment—
everything was still.
Then—
WHAM!
One of Scrapper's mechanical tentacles shot forward.
It slammed Alya against the wall.
"Ugh...!"
The impact drove the air from her lungs.
A cough escaped her lips.
Blood splattered onto the floor.
Rin's eyes widened.
"What the—?!"
Without hesitation, he swung his scythe.
The blade sliced toward Scrapper's neck.
Clang!
Scrapper caught the shaft of the scythe with one hand.
"...!"
Rin tried to pull it free.
It didn't move.
Scrapper's grip tightened.
Then—
Boom!
Another tentacle slammed into Rin's chest, knocking him onto his back.
Before he could recover—
two more tentacles wrapped around him and pinned him to the floor.
The stone beneath him cracked.
"Gah!"
Rin struggled against the metal restraints.
"What..."
"...what's gotten into you?!"
Scrapper didn't answer.
His face remained blank.
His eyes were empty, fixed straight ahead as though he weren't seeing either of them.
Alya, still pinned against the wall by the tentacle, forced herself to look up.
"...Scrapper..."
"...wake up..."
But the only response was the slow, unsettling twitch of the mechanical tentacles as the hallway echoed with the sounds of Rin struggling and Alya's labored breathing.