Arou woke up.
This time—
there was no white void.
He stood in a dark, silent space, surrounded by a vivid purple glow. It was neither fog nor smoke, yet it felt suffocating.
The light came from nowhere.
As if the space itself emitted the color.
Arou took a quick breath.
"Why... is this place different?"
Footsteps echoed.
Slow. Relaxed.
"Hey, protagonist."
Arou immediately turned.
"Zata?"
Memories of their final battle crashed into his mind. The fused sword. The choice he had made. The world that had nearly been restored.
"Wait," Arou said.
"When we fought... who won?"
Zata smiled lightly, as if answering a trivial question.
"You did. Haha."
Arou frowned.
"Are you mocking me?"
"No," Zata replied calmly.
"I simply wanted to respect your determination."
Arou fell silent for a moment before glancing around the purple space.
"Then... why is this place so different from before?"
Zata looked upward, as if he had suddenly remembered something.
"Ah, this?"
He took a step closer.
"Because now it's time for the Seventh Game."
"The Seventh Game?" Arou repeated.
"Yep," Zata answered without hesitation.
"And in this game—"
His voice became flat.
"—I will erase Airi, Nora, Akari, Shi, Hikari, Priscilla, and Lumina."
The word erase fell far too lightly.
Far too easily.
Arou froze.
"They... wait. Then why did you release Nova, Shion, Arthur, Rei, and Feeth to accompany me?"
Zata smiled faintly.
"Because they're still necessary."
Arou clenched his fists.
"Why are you erasing those girls?"
"Ah."
Zata waved his hand dismissively.
"They aren't worthy of participating in this game."
Arou stiffened.
"Oh, really? Then what about Priscilla?"
"Wasn't she your subordinate—I mean, my subordinate?"
Zata's smile faded slightly.
"She became your companion."
Arou stared sharply at him.
"What do you mean?"
"I altered her fate," Zata replied casually.
"What?"
Arou was stunned.
"You... changed fate?"
Zata turned his face away slightly.
"Forget it. Don't waste time."
He raised one hand.
"The Seventh Game begins."
---
Arou opened his eyes.
He was standing directly in front of his house.
A house that felt far too familiar.
Far too normal.
"Strange..." he muttered.
"Why did I wake up here?"
There was no arena.
No audience.
No announcer.
Only a silent morning.
Arou looked around, his heart beating slowly.
"And this game..."
His hand slowly reached for the doorknob.
"What is it even about?"
The handle felt cold.
Colder than it should have been.
And for some reason—
Arou had a terrible feeling.
The Seventh Game
was not about fighting.
It was about loss.
---
Arou woke up with short breaths.
Not because of a nightmare.
But because of the silence.
He got out of bed, walked into the living room, and stopped.
The sofa was empty.
The table was neat.
No sounds.
Arou frowned.
"Wait..."
"Something's wrong."
His eyes scanned the room again.
"Why isn't Emi here?"
The name left his mouth naturally, reflexively, as though he said it every morning.
Arou tensed.
"Even though..."
"Zata never said he'd erase Emi."
The silence grew heavier.
Arou slowly sat down and lowered his head, trying to organize his thoughts.
"And also..."
"During the Sixth Game..."
He looked up.
"I never saw Emi at all."
The realization came late, but once it surfaced, it felt wrong.
Amid the battles.
Amid the resets.
Amid the chaos.
Emi had never appeared.
"Even though..."
"Zata hadn't erased anyone back then."
His heartbeat quickened.
"So..."
"What happened to Emi?"
The question received no answer.
Not from the house.
Not from the world.
Arou suddenly stood up and walked quickly to the bathroom. He washed his face and took a quick shower.
After changing clothes, he skipped breakfast.
He couldn't sit still.
Something was urging him outside.
Arou opened the front door and stepped into the morning.
The streets were there.
The houses stood as usual.
The sky looked normal.
Yet one thing immediately caught his attention.
Several houses...
felt empty.
Not because they were abandoned.
Not because they were ruined.
But because their residents had never existed.
Arou stopped walking.
Names appeared in his mind one by one.
Nora.
Akari.
Airi.
Shi.
Hikari.
Lumina.
Priscilla.
The world had adjusted itself to their disappearance—
too neatly.
Too perfectly.
As if they had never been part of history.
Arou clenched his fists.
"Then..."
"Why do I still remember them?"
A gentle wind blew.
And for a moment—
Arou felt like he was walking through a world
that had been reduced,
not reset.
The Seventh Game didn't erase everything.
It only erased
the people who should have mattered.
And somehow—
Emi
was not among them.
Yet she also
did not exist
in this world.
Arou continued walking.
With a conviction slowly forming inside his chest:
If Emi wasn't erased, yet she's gone...
then perhaps, from the very beginning, she was never a participant in the game.
And that possibility
was far more terrifying.
---
Arou stopped in front of a neighboring house.
A middle-aged man was preparing to leave, car keys already in hand.
Arou hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Excuse me, sir."
"Do you know where my sister is?"
The man turned, confused.
"Your sister?"
"Yes."
"Her name is Emi."
A brief silence followed.
The man looked at Arou, then slowly shook his head.
"No."
"I don't know anyone by that name. Sorry, I'm in a hurry."
"Ah... right. Sorry, sir."
The man left.
Arou stood alone by the roadside.
So...
Emi...
never existed...
The conclusion felt wrong.
Yet the world around him offered no contradiction.
Suddenly—
the air in front of him distorted.
A woman's figure slowly appeared.
Her hair.
Her posture.
Her eyes.
Arou froze.
"Emi...?"
The figure flickered, like a shadow forced into daylight.
"Arou," the voice trembled.
"Please..."
Arou stepped forward.
"Emi? Is that really you?"
"I beg you..."
Emi continued.
"Wake up."
"Wake up?" Arou repeated.
"What do you mean—"
The voice faded.
Emi's form became increasingly transparent, as though the world itself rejected her existence.
"Emi!"
Arou shouted.
"Wait! Where are you going?!"
No answer came.
Only empty air.
Arou stood motionless for several seconds before exhaling deeply.
"...Ah."
"Maybe I'm hallucinating."
He said it to reassure himself.
Yet his feet were already carrying him home.
---
The moment he arrived, Arou headed straight for the storage room.
The old wooden door creaked open.
Dust and the scent of old belongings filled the air.
"Hah—achoo!"
Arou immediately stepped back.
"Mask..."
He hurried to his bedroom, opened a drawer, and stopped.
Inside was a neatly folded face mask.
Unused.
Arou put it on and returned to the storage room.
Box after box was opened.
Old belongings.
Forgotten memories.
Then—
Arou stopped.
In his hand was a small teddy bear.
Its color had faded.
One button eye sat slightly crooked.
That teddy bear.
The one Emi always carried when she was little.
Arou stared at it.
"If Emi never existed..."
"Then what is this?"
His hand trembled.
"A false memory?"
"An object only half-erased?"
He slowly tightened his grip on the bear.
"Or..."
"Zata..."
His voice hardened.
"Did you erase Emi without telling me?"
Silence answered him.
Arou exhaled sharply.
"Damn it."
He said nothing more.
But for the first time since the Seventh Game began, Arou was certain of one thing:
Emi had existed.
The world was denying her.
And that meant—
The Seventh Game
didn't just erase people.
It edited reality itself.