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Noir's eyes never opened again.
Eugene quietly gazed at her face, which looked as peaceful as if she were merely sleeping. There was no sign of pain, no hint of lingering regret — just a serene, self-satisfied expression.
Noir Giabella had died.
He turned his head to look at the distant sunrise, which was already hanging in the sky above. The night had passed, and morning had arrived. The light descending from the twilight sky illuminated the city. A once vibrant place was now reduced nearly to rubble, with most buildings collapsed.
Eugene paused to look at the frozen Ferris Wheel, then let out a short laugh.
"It's over,” he said.
Noir Giabella was dead.
He felt it deeply once again. A sudden pain surged from his severed arm, and his chest felt as if it might burst or tear open. His whole body trembled with a chill, and his head spun as his vision began to blur.
"I’m going to faint," Eugene stated.
He chuckled bitterly. Disregarding everything else that had taken place, he had used Ignition twice in a row. Even discounting the successive use of Ignition, he could not have been fine. He had endured mental attacks in nightmares and had fought fiercely on the line of death in reality. His injuries were not limited to his left arm; even his insides felt shredded. It was a miracle he was even alive, and the backlash from pushing himself so hard was more than mere discomfort.
"Sienna,” he called out.
Eugene unclenched his hand, which was still covered in blood. It revealed a necklace. He looked at Noir's left hand, at the ring on her ring finger, and sighed deeply.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Sienna, who had been sitting slumped, flinched at his question.
She replied with a pout,...
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