Part one hundred seventy five — Old Rivals

　Himari settled properly into the underground facility over the following days, the same quiet corner near her mother's—near his mother's—capsule becoming something like her own permanent post.

　Kai gathered everyone that first evening—Chloe, Himari, Nyxara, Sophia, and the handful of survivors still adjusting to their new reality—and laid out everything plainly, no detail softened.

　"They took Ivy and Enzo," he said. "They took everyone else permanently. I'm not letting either debt go unanswered."

　Nobody argued.

　News reached Tearmoon within the day, carried through whatever channels still functioned between the scattered branch offices.

　Kai reached Ace directly through thought communication that same evening.

Stay with Yuki, he told him. Keep the elite soldiers close. I don't know yet how far this reaches.

Understood, Ace replied, something grim beneath his usual dry composure. I'm sorry, Kai.

Me too.

　It was two days later that Nero finally returned—materials gathered, exactly as promised, though he hadn't come back alone.

　Two figures walked beside him, and Nyxara's expression shifted the instant she registered them.

　"Nero," she said slowly, "what in the world did you do?"

　"No.5," the male figure said, grinning. "Been a while. What, two years?"

　"Four thousand," the woman beside him corrected flatly.

　Nyxara pressed a hand to her own forehead.

　"You freed No.1 and No.9."

　"They were still sealed," Nero said, unbothered. "Seemed rude to leave them there, given I was already in the neighborhood."

　"They're old rivals of ours," Nyxara explained to Kai with a sigh. "No.1, No.5, myself, and No.8, before he became Nero. We go back considerably further than four thousand years, if I'm honest."

　No.1 studied Nero with obvious, growing disbelief.

　"You've gotten considerably stronger, No.8."

　"Nero," Nero corrected sharply. "That's my name now. Given to me properly. Don't call me the other thing again."

　No.1 and No.9, apparently unwilling to simply accept that at face value, attacked him without warning—testing, the way old rivals tend to.

　It wasn't close to a fair fight.

　Nero's evolution had left him in an entirely different category than either of them remembered, and he handled both attacks with the same casual, faintly bored efficiency he brought to most things these days, treating the whole exchange like correcting a couple of overconfident children.

　No.1 stared at him afterward, genuinely stunned.

　"How did you become this powerful?"

　"I told you," Nero said. "I was given a name."

　No.9's own curiosity sharpened immediately.

　"By whom? Whoever's capable of that is worth knowing."

　"Demon Lord Kai," Nero said. "He can give names. New bodies too, if you're willing."

　No.1 and No.9 exchanged a look.

　"We'd like to meet him," No.1 said.