Orders fell like a mountain, spreading through every corner of CCG headquarters in an instant.
"Confirmed location of the One-Eyed Owl. All combat personnel are to enter Level One combat readiness immediately."
The cold command echoed through the corridors. It was as if an invisible hand had seized the entire building by the throat.
The air was thick with the mixed scent of rust and disinfectant. On the faces of the personnel preparing for battle, the full spectrum of human emotion was reflected.
Some looked calm as usual, yet their knuckles were clenched white.
Some repeatedly inspected their quinque, fine beads of sweat seeping from their temples.
Others stood motionless by the windows, gazing blankly into the distance.
Everyone understood that this might be the final battle of their careers.
The shadow of the "Owl" had loomed over the CCG for far too long. It was not merely the highest-level threat in the archives, but a nightmare forged with the blood of countless colleagues.
Just as Kishou Arima was to ghouls, this mountain had to fall today, even if the road were paved with corpses.
...
Kousuke Houji stood quietly by the window, the glass reflecting his expressionless profile.
He handed a neatly folded sheet of paper to the young investigator behind him. "This is a large-scale extermination operation. Your name is on the list, Takizawa-kun."
The paper unfolded. The two words "last letter" branded themselves into Takizawa Seidou's eyes like steel fresh from the forge.
His hands trembled slightly as he accepted it, his fingertips brushing over the rough texture of the paper.
That night, he returned home for the first time in a long while. His mother circled around him in surprise. The steaming dishes filled the air with a fragrance that made his eyes sting.
"What made you come back today?" Faced with her question, he only replied vaguely, "I missed your miso soup."
Under the desk lamp in his bedroom, Takizawa sat before a blank sheet of letter paper for the entire night.
When the darkest hour before dawn crept past the window, he finally began to write.
Yet the moment he finished the final character, the string of reason snapped. Like a madman, he grabbed the pen and violently scrawled four twisted words over the neat handwriting.
I don't want to die
The ink bled through the paper like a festering wound. The young man who had always tried so hard to keep his back straight finally curled up on the floor, his fingers digging deep into his hair, letting out the cry of a trapped beast.
...
"Another will to write." Suzuya Juuzou drew out the last word lazily, his silver spoon poking into his strawberry sundae. "So troublesome."
Shinohara Yukinori watched as the boy licked cream from the corner of his lips and shook his head helplessly. "It's the rule."
"But I don't have anything I want to say."
"Then thank the companions around you." Shinohara looked toward the gradually sinking sunset outside the window. "After all... it might be the last thing you get to say."
...
In Iwao Kuroiwa's office, last letters fell like snowflakes onto the desk.
When he rose and looked around at those young faces, every word that resonated from his chest carried burning strength.
"Everyone. I stand with you."
The brief oath shattered the stagnant air. Some eyes reddened. Some silently straightened their backs.
Faced with the countdown to death, some shattered in fear, some stood firm in protection.
And more ordinary souls trembled as they tightened their grip on their weapons, preparing to step into the furnace of fate.
The cold night wind swept across the rooftop. Amano Hiro and Rize stood side by side at the edge of a high building, black and dark purple hair intertwining in the wind.
In the distance, a massive advertising screen scrolled glaring crimson text, like a tolling funeral bell.
CCG Headquarters has placed the 20th Ward under special martial law. A raid will be carried out on a certain café. All entry and exit is prohibited.
Rize's kakugan glowed faintly in the darkness. Her fingers lightly hooked the corner of Amano Hiro's clothing.
At the same time, in front of the television at the new residence, Touka curled up on the sofa with her knees drawn to her chest. The cold light of the screen flickered across her pale face.
"The residents have completed evacuation. The raid is expected to be carried out within the day."
The host's voice pierced her chest like an ice pick. Touka's pupils contracted sharply. Her fingers dug hard into her own arm.
The next second, she sprang up like a startled bird, grabbed her coat, and rushed toward the entrance.
Bang.
The moment the door hinge turned, two figures like mountains blocked the way.
Yomo Renji's eyes churned with a dark undercurrent in the shadows. Kirishima Arata's broad palm pressed against the doorframe.
"Where are you going?" Yomo's voice was like something soaked in an icy abyss.
"Anteiku..." The girl's voice carried a faint tremor.
"Stay." Yomo cut off the end of her sentence, his body unmoving. "The manager and Amano Hiro are there."
Hearing that name, Touka's tense back relaxed slightly, yet she still lifted her head stubbornly. "Are we just going to stand by and do nothing?"
Kirishima Arata placed a warm, steady hand on her head, his voice like solid stone. "If you go now, you'll only become the weakness aimed at them."
Yomo gazed at the distant sky where searchlights were beginning to glow faintly, then added with finality,
"Not causing trouble is the most help you can give right now."
...—
At a subway station in the 20th Ward at night, two figures stood quietly amid the drifting first snow.
Yoshimura Eto slowly raised her bandage-wrapped hands, letting the crystalline flakes fall into her palms. She watched them melt into clear droplets against her body heat and murmured softly,
"It's snowing."
Tatara leaned against the sign behind her, his gaze gentle as he watched the woman who always hid herself behind bandages. His silence was the firmest form of protection.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of Anteiku, Yoshimura Kuzen stood by the window, gazing at the falling snow outside.
His eyes were distant, as if through the whiteness he could see far into the past.
Knock knock knock.
The light knocking broke the quiet. Koma Enji pushed the door open, wearing the same hearty smile as always.
"Manager, the shop's been cleaned spotless."
Irimi Kaya leaned her head in from behind him, her eyes curved in a smile. "The documents have all been taken care of too."
Yoshimura Kuzen turned around and smiled kindly. "Thank you."
He walked to the coffee machine and personally ground and brewed coffee for his two old friends.
Hot water filtered through the grounds, releasing a rich aroma. Koma and Irimi watched his practiced movements quietly, warmth filling their eyes.
"Please." The manager set the two steaming cups before them.
Koma Enji lifted his cup in satisfaction. "Mm. Thanks for the wait."
Irimi Kaya said softly, "Thank you."
Yoshimura Kuzen looked around at the empty surroundings. A trace of loneliness lingered in his voice. "It's become... quiet."
Koma Enji set down his cup, his expression turning serious. "We will follow you until the very last moment."
After saying that, he returned to his hearty smile, as if he had merely stated something completely natural.
Irimi Kaya also smiled and added, "And Hiro and the others are still here. With that, what could you possibly be dissatisfied with?"
Outside the window, snow fell silently. Inside, the aroma of coffee intertwined with unspoken vows, adding a warm firmness to the night before the decisive battle.