GODDESS OF VICTORY: NIKKE story · Side stories
PRETTY STAR
15 scenes, 2,668 lines
1. PRETTY STAR: 1
222 linesMustang stares at the brilliant light beyond the monitor.
He closes his eyes slowly,
and memories of the past flicker across his mind like a fast-moving film.
*Sigh...*
Pretty...
I'm off!
Very well. Go on, then.
Oh right, I'm going to be a little late today. I've got an important meeting, so I'll grab dinner on the way. Just go ahead and eat without me!
You've been out quite a lot lately.
Uh... Well, you know how it is. It's crunch time.
Performance reviews are coming up, and that's when they decide who gets promoted. So yeah, I've got to pull a few strings.
...
... Hey, what's wrong?
No, it's nothing.
...
Oh! Now that I remember, didn't you say you were meeting someone today too?
Yes, I'm meeting a former colleague.
Oh, from special ops? Are you going back to being Hellhound?
Didn't we agree not to bring that up?
It's not exactly the sort of past to joke about.
Just messing with you, hehe!
But seriously... If anyone tells you to go back, don't. Promise me, okay?
Rest assured.
I have no plans to return.
Good! It's peaceful now, so you don't need to do that anymore.
Oh crap, I'm late. I gotta go! See you tonight!
All right, I'll see you this evening.
Freesia hurries out the front door.
Oswald stays where he is, staring blankly at the closed door.
...
A time of peace, huh...
Long time no see, Chief.
I'm no longer with special operations.
Still, I can't just call you Oswald.
... Very well. Just call me whatever's easiest for you.
Wow, it's been ages since you hung up your boots.
Indeed, it has been quite some time.
Then why are you still strapped?
Hmm... It's that obvious?
Haha, nope, it's perfectly hidden. Only folks in our line of work would notice.
It's a habit. I feel unsettled if it's not there.
I know what you mean. I'm the same.
How's everything been with you?
I'm doing well. The work itself is quite rewarding in its own way.
Heard you're the training advisor over at Elysion now.
Figures, I can't think of anyone better for the job than you.
They've been treating me very well, though the workload has been easing up a bit lately.
Hmm...
The man sitting across from Oswald gazes out the cafe window.
Outside, members of the Nikke Rights Committee walk down the street, holding their picket signs high.
... Yeah, makes sense. They're slowly replacing us with Nikkes.
After all, the dangerous, high-skill stuff isn't for us anymore.
Perhaps it's time you gave retirement some thought as well.
We can't really keep going, even if we wanted to. After all, special ops is exactly the kind of work a Nikke's built for.
Now that folks are retiring left and right, it's probably best to leave while the benefits are still good.
Yes, times are changing quickly.
It might be wise to start looking for something you can take on immediately.
... Sometimes I really miss those days we're out on operations together, Chief.
Is that so?
Oswald brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip.
I don't miss it.
I like how things are now.
...
You've really changed since I last saw you.
Oh, really?
Can I ask you something?
Of course.
Why'd you retire?
...
You were the one who made sealing the Ark possible, and a big promotion was just around the corner.
Sure, the Goddess Squad ran off at the last minute and caused a mess... But that wasn't on you.
...
I'm sorry...
No, that's quite all right.
Anyway, I can't for the life of me figure out why you decided to retire.
...
I honestly didn't think I had it in me to take on that kind of work anymore.
Because of Freesia?
So you do know her name.
Haha, everyone in special ops knows that name, and I'd bet it's the same even in the Central Government.
I mean, Hellhound Oswald himself—sorry, the Chief of Special Operations—had adopted a little girl? That was a shock, to say the least.
What made you decide to do that?
I'm afraid I don't know.
Hmm... I really don't.
So...
Are you happy now?
Oswald reaches for the coffee cup on the table.
It's empty, but he lifts it anyway, bringing it to his lips almost absentmindedly.
Yes,
I think I am.
Glad to hear it.
In silence, they watch the city stretch out beyond the glass.
So meticulously built that you'd never know it's underground, and humanity's last refuge.
Their eyes drift to the Ark, looming like a silent sentinel.
Suddenly, the calm shatters.
Outside, a group of Nikkephobes disrupts the Nikke Rights Committee's march.
Shouts and footsteps echo, and a brief scuffle ignites.
It just keeps getting worse.
They push the blame for the surface reclamation war on the Nikkes, turn citizens against each other, then quietly step out of the spotlight.
Heh, the Central Government hasn't changed one bit.
They're always looking for a scapegoat, but I never thought they'd throw the Nikkes under the bus, too.
Dragging the Goddess of Victory down and calling them the reason we lost... Honestly, it makes me sick.
I'd advise against making remarks like that.
... Now I get what you meant when you said you couldn't keep doing this.
Back then, I honestly believed that no matter how dirty the work, it was necessary to protect humanity.
We were getting torn apart, literally, by those insane Raptures.
But that's not the case anymore.
The surface hasn't been our problem for a long time.
It hasn't even been that long since we came down to the Ark, and already things have come to this.
All I can do is sit in my room and watch them tear down the very ones we used to look up to,
just to save themselves. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Ah, I see... So that's why you asked to meet today.
Yeah, I've been thinking about retirement too.
We've never really been the type to do ordinary work, right?
That's why I've been curious about what life after retirement looks like for you. I guess I was hoping for a little reassurance... or maybe just a bit of hope.
What do you think?
You know, I think it's time I retire. Seeing you doing well gives me some peace of mind.
That's why I'm done serving a place like this.
Up on the surface, I was blinded by grand ideals, but down here, I finally see things clearly.
I see.
I wish you every success.
Thanks, really appreciate it.
Once again, they watch the chaos beyond the glass in silence. The minor scuffle escalates, quickly spiraling out of control.
The Central Government intervenes, deploying tear gas. Both the Nikkephobes and the Nikke Rights Committee scatter in panic.
Through the crowd scrambling to get away,
Oswald catches sight of a very familiar face.
...
What's wrong? You don't look so good all of a sudden.
I'm fine.
Okay, seems things have quieted down. Shall we get going?
All right.
It was great seeing you.
Yes, I did enjoy it as well.
...
Wow, you've really changed a lot.
...
Oswald sits on the sofa, staring into the darkness.
He doesn't close his eyes. The moment he does, he hears the reproachful voices of his heroes.
Memories come unbidden,
of the times he betrayed the very people he once admired.
He tries to tell himself he had no other choice, but the comfort never lasts.
After all, the truth remains unchanged. He had abandoned them on the surface. He had turned his back on his heroes.
There was a time when that self-loathing consumed him, when he couldn't escape it.
He thought about ending everything dozens, even hundreds, of times.
But every time...
I'm home!
Huh? Hey, what are you doing sitting in the dark?
*Click*
The lights come on, and Oswald winces against the sudden glare.
Are you okay, Mister? Did you get into a fight with the person you met today?
But every single time...
he is saved by a girl with no ties to him,
who looks him straight in the eye and asks if he's all right.
... Mister.
Freesia.
Yeah? What's up?
I know you've been working with the Nikke Rights Committee.
...
Don't.
...
Um...
Just don't.
...
Why not, Mister?
It's too dangerous.
There's nothing wrong with doing the right thing!
How can I just stand by when people say the Nikkes are the reason we lost the surface reclamation war?
So all that talk about getting promoted wasn't about your job, after all.
Yeah... I'm getting promoted to team leader.
So, what's your goal?
I want to make everyone look up to the Nikkes once more!
How do you plan on doing that?
I'm not sure...
but I can't just stand around doing nothing!
Freesia.
The Ark has no need for heroes. There must be none.
Otherwise, they'll only be dragged down in the end.
What you're doing now isn't just pointless; it's downright dangerous.
I don't see it that way!
More and more people are joining us, and one day, everyone will see that
the Nikkes aren't a symbol of defeat, they're the Goddesses of Vic—
Don't do it.
...
Oh, come on! You loved the Nikkes, didn't you?
And the Goddess Squad too!
Not anymore.
Freesia gestures toward a pair of leather gloves inside an acrylic case atop the living room display cabinet.
Red Hood's signature is scrawled crookedly across the leather.
What are you even talking about? You keep them on display, clean the case every day, and always end up smiling whenever you look at them.
...
That lie doesn't make sense at all.
So why are you doing this?
There's nothing more painful than seeing someone you've long admired brought down.
Exactly! That's why we're going to stop it!
You can't stop it. The top brass won't allow it.
I know. The Central Government needs a scapegoat, and I get why they're letting those Nikkephobes run wild.
But are we just supposed to stand by and watch the Nikkes who risked their lives for us get treated like this...?
I wish we could do more, but for now, we can only stand by.
Now that I'm a team leader, I can do so much more!
And the committee gets to decide what it wants to take on.
You're looking at having a choice a bit too optimistically, aren't you?
Oh, am I?
...
I already told you, don't do that.
I'm doing it anyway.
Freesia.
... I'm crashing at a friend's tonight.
Freesia opens the door and walks out.
Oswald stares after her, stunned into silence.
Three days later...
Oswald watches the news, then bolts from the room.
As he runs, his hand slips inside his coat, checking the chest holster. The handgun is snug, exactly where it should be.
He arrives at the scene. The authorities try to stop him,
but he brushes past them effortlessly.
It's over. The plaza is a wasteland. Shattered furniture and broken equipment lie scattered everywhere,
and lifeless bodies are strewn across the ground.
Oswald scans the faces quickly.
Relief washes over him when he finds that she's not among them.
He exhales, and his phone rings.
Oswald heads straight to the hospital,
where he finds Freesia lying in her bed,
eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
2. PRETTY STAR: 2
284 linesNikkephobic activists disrupted the speech
and tried to force their way onto the stage.
Your daughter got caught in the scuffle and fell near the edge of the stairs,
breaking her neck and severing her nerves.
She is conscious but cannot speak or move.
...
Oswald listens quietly to the police officer's dry, emotionless explanation.
His eyes meet Freesia's, but he can't hold her gaze and looks away.
It appears your daughter previously signed a consent form for posthumous Nikke conversion.
In special cases like this, conversion can be done even while she's still alive,
but the decision rests with the legal guardian.
Is there any chance of recovery?
According to the doctor, there's no chance of recovery.
They say miraculous recoveries do happen, but outside of that, improvement is impossible.
I see you've held a senior position in the Central Government for quite some time.
That gives her a significant advantage during the conversion process. You'd also be able to choose the manufacturer.
If she's not going to be a mass-produced unit, you can even choose which squad she'll be assigned to.
...
How would you like to proceed?
I'll need some time to think this through.
Understood. How long should we wait?
I'll contact you directly.
Noted.
Please be aware that we can't be reached by phone on the weekends.
Got it.
The police officer steps out of the hospital room,
leaving behind only the beeps and whirs of machines.
...
... Freesia,
do you want to become a Nikke?
Freesia blinks.
...
Silence hangs in the air.
After staring at Freesia for a long while, Oswald finally speaks.
I don't want that.
I can't bear the thought of you forgetting me.
So...
Promise me you won't forget me.
Freesia blinks, tears streaming down her cheeks.
... All right,
until next time.
Freesia blinks,
and Oswald reaches for his phone.
EEEEEEEEEntertainment!
VIPs of the Ark, mes amis!
Enjoying yourselves, oui?
Soft murmurs ripple through the audience.
Oh là là, barely a whisper!
Tell me, did le spectacle tickle your fancy, mes chers?
The audience erupts in cheers.
...
Et voilà! Today's extravaganza draws to a close.
Take care on your way home, mes chers!
People are filing out, their footsteps fading into silence.
Mustang watches until the last audience member disappears, then makes his way backstage.
A staffer hands him a drink. He sips casually, then flings the remainder across their face.
Tsk, get the sweetness right. I won't repeat myself.
Mustang enters the monitor room
and sinks into an extravagant single-seat sofa that looks completely out of place.
A handful of staff rush to his side, touching up his makeup, spritzing perfume, and fixing his hair.
Which genius handled the lighting today?
That'd be Richard.
Fire him. That glare's unbearable.
How'd something like that even make it into the Ark?
The setup's exactly the same as always.
Do you have any idea how blinding those things were today?
... Richard has been with us for three years, and this is his first... mistake.
Fire him. Now.
... Understood.
And what's with the audience tonight? So lukewarm... Pathetic, every last one of them.
I give them a rare performance like that, and this is the thanks I get?
I'll look into it.
Who's in charge of marketing? Bring them to me.
He's just stepped out to the restroom for a moment.
Uh!
Didn't I say to wait here until the show's over?!
Am I a joke to you?
He's been unwell with gastroenteritis for the past few days. I was worried it might get worse if left unattended, so I sent him to the restroom.
And just who do you think you are?
...
Who gave you the right to run the show while I'm away?
That's not the case.
*Sigh...* Not a single thing meets my standards.
And it's sweltering in here. AC, now.
Right away.
So... how are the ratings today?
4.1%.
Uh...
Un-freaking-believable...
Wasn't it 7% just last week?
Indeed, it was.
And 12% the week before that.
Correct.
Why the hell are the ratings still dropping?!
Our survey shows that the biggest criticism is a lack of novelty...
*Wham!*
Mustang kicks Hanson square in the shin without even standing up.
...
Do you think that's what I asked for? I told you to come up with solutions, countermeasures!
And here I am, parading on stage like some miserable clown, blowing kisses for everyone to see. And you... What exactly have you been doing?
Hey, Hanson.
...
Answer me, Director Hanson.
*Wham!*
He kicks Hanson in the shin again.
... I believe the main reason is the lack of new faces.
The Nikke celebrity project we had invested so much time and effort into...
was practically canceled.
At this point, there's no way for a Nikke celebrity to make an appearance.
It's all thanks to them royally screwing up that damn surface reclamation war!
That seems to be the main reason. Public opinion of Nikkes in the Ark has grown highly hostile,
so it's an inopportune time for a Nikke celebrity to step into the spotlight.
Tsk.
Hanson, do you have any idea how much I poured into the pockets of those big shots when the Ark was built?
I'm not sure.
A lot. A whole damn lot. More than you could even dream of.
And I kissed every ass I had to, all while spouting some crap about "the good of humanity," just to get my hands on Nikke manufacturing tech.
Why, you ask?
To secure the monopoly on Nikke entertainment inside the Ark.
Nikkes that don't age, that obey if you fry their brains a little... The perfect product to sell.
I stuffed them with cash, licked their boots,
and it worked. Flawlessly.
Then I lured in those pretty-faced, vain, empty-headed Nikkes and molded them into stars.
All that was left was the debut. One shot, guaranteed hit.
If everything had gone according to plan, I'd have ruled the Big Three,
and literally become the god of the Ark.
But then...
Those idiots botched the surface reclamation war.
So tell me, Hanson, what do you do in a situation like that?
... I'll make sure to calm the Nikkes and prepare for the next reclamation war.
Yes! That's exactly it!
Those fools couldn't stomach even a single scratch on their reputations, so they threw the Nikkes under the bus!
And of course, they had the nerve to officially declare that we lost due to the Nikkes' incompetence. Pathetic!
They didn't quite put it that way.
That's basically what they were saying. The Nikkes didn't live up to expectations...
so it's not our problem. Go sort them out yourselves. They won't die, they won't break,
so have at it.
...
Yeah, I get it. They had to clean up their mess. Fine.
But they destroyed my business! The one I poured years into!
And damn that war... Why start a fight you can't even win?
Uhm...
At this rate, we're finished. Absolutely finished.
There's nothing left for us. Nothing!
Hanson, fix this. Now.
I'll do my best.
I don't care how you do it. Just get it done.
Yes, I understand.
*Sigh*
My car?
It's waiting outside.
I'm heading to Ephialtes. Don't even think about looking for me.
... It seems you've been going there quite often lately.
How else am I supposed to blow off my steam, huh?
...
I'm leaving.
Hey, get me a change of clothes.
Mustang gets to his feet and strides out of the monitor room.
Hanson lets out a deep sigh.
Always working yourself to the bone, huh?
Since you know how hard I've been working, a little help would've been appreciated.
How exactly am I supposed to help? That person's a nightmare to deal with.
As I see it, you aren't exactly easy to handle either.
Thanks for the compliment. I almost feel rejuvenated.
... Shall we take this outside?
Why are you acting like that? You're scaring me.
It's important.
Look at this.
Mrs. Miss hands Hanson a document.
So, she's hoping to become a Nikke... She can't move on her own?
Yeah, she'd already worked her way up to team leader at the Nikke Rights Committee
when the Nikkephobes attacked her. Completely severed her nerves, poor thing.
Okay, but what am I supposed to do with her...?
Let's bring her in.
... Pardon?
A woman who died tragically while campaigning for Nikke rights.
Reborn as a Nikke, she's back to fight for the Goddesses of Victory in her own way.
Quite the picture, huh?
Are you suggesting we bring her into the entertainment industry?
That I do.
We don't even know what kind of talent she has...
At this point, her story is her talent.
... If we play our cards right, it could flip everything in our favor.
... I suppose... that may be true.
We're doing this, then?
...
Yes, I'd appreciate it.
...
...
Mister.
Phew...
Yes, it's me.
I'm so glad I remember everything!
Yeah, that's a relief.
So... where was I made?
Tetra Line.
Tetra Line? Why there of all places?
They said the chances of memory retention would be highest there.
...
Yeah, I think that was a great choice.
... How are you holding up?
I'm doing great!
Everything feels totally normal, like I'm still a human.
... It's crazy to think that not long ago, I couldn't do anything and was just lying there.
That won't happen again.
Yeah, looks like I don't have to worry about breaking my neck anymore. Should've done this ages ago.
Freesia,
that's enough.
...
I've come this far, so I can't stop now, can I?
Nikkes are managed by the Big Three, but they answer to the Central Government.
There's no way the government would allow their rights to expand.
From the government's perspective, the Nikkephobes are useful.
So you think it's okay to just let it be?
There's no helping it.
Hmph. I don't think so.
Now that I'm a Nikke, there's so much more I can do.
I'll make it happen, no matter what.
...
*Bzzz*
... Sorry, I'll be right back. I need to take this call.
Sure, go ahead.
*Bzzz*
... Secure line.
Oswald speaking.
Chief,
I heard your daughter became a Nikke.
Does she still have her memories?
Yes, her memories are intact.
Ah, thank goodness.
... And since she's your daughter, I took a quick look at the data, just to make sure everything looked normal.
Freesia... she's born to do this.
Born to do what? I'm not sure I follow.
Her combat skills are no joke.
If I had to exaggerate a bit...
that's Liliweiss for you.
...
Ah, of course, she's not quite at Liliweiss's level, but she's close.
Honestly, there's nothing stopping her from becoming the next Liliweiss.
...
...
Chief? You still there?
I have a favor to ask.
Oh...? Yes, go on.
Could I ask you to alter the data?
...
At this stage, becoming the next Liliweiss wouldn't do any good.
She'd just be used as propaganda by the Central Government.
More people would end up dying pointlessly on the surface,
and one person alone can't change anything.
But Chief, the mere fact that there's a successor to Liliweiss at this point...
Please, I'm asking for your help.
I can't let my daughter be sent to the front lines.
...
Pulling the father-daughter card on me, huh? That's a low blow!
I apologize.
All right, leave it to me. I'll make her look like just another ordinary Nikke.
Would that be possible?
Nothing we haven't handled before. Piece of cake.
Good thing Enikk's tied up with managing the Ark right now.
If everything goes according to plan, we should be able to monitor all sectors by next year.
Right on time.
I'll leave it in your capable hands.
Sure thing, guess I'll have to put retirement on hold for a while.
Thank you.
*Click*
...
Mister.
...
Still not done?
No, it's over. Why?
Tetra just called.
They want me to swing by the office. Apparently, they've got something to tell me.
Tetra?
Yeah.
...
I asked if my guardian could come too, and they said yes! Let's go together!
... What's going on? Why Tetra?
Why even ask? It's obvious, isn't it?
Tetra's in the entertainment business, after all.
They probably saw me and decided to scout me on the spot.
...
I don't think that's the case.
... Say what?
3. PRETTY STAR: 3
195 lines
...
Anis stares intently at her desk.
Every inch is scrawled with scribbles, so crude she can barely bring herself to read them.
She grabs a wet wipe from her bag and tries to clean them, but they won't budge.
... Permanent marker, huh?
Anis scans the classroom.
There's chatter here, soft snores there, music spilling from headphones, pages turning.
And through it all, she knows that they're all watching her.
She gets no reaction at all, as though she's not in the room.
Oi! Who the hell did this?!
Still no reaction.
Anis strides up to a girl talking with her friends.
The girl desperately tries to ignore her, but Anis leans in, their faces just inches apart.
Hey, sorry to cut in, but do you know who messed with my desk?
"I-I don't know," comes the predictable reply. Meanwhile, Anis stares at her without blinking.
Was it you?
Watching the girl vehemently deny it, Anis furrows her brows in frustration.
as she straightens and shouts at the class.
I don't even care who did this, just tell me why!
Huh!? What the hell?
If you're gonna screw with me, the least you can do is give me a reason!
The classroom becomes so quiet that you can hear a pin drop.
Anis sits at her desk and pulls out another wet wipe.
She scrubs furiously, and the scribbles start to come off, little by little.
The red writing comes off far more easily than the rest.
She stares at the red stains left on the wipe, then she shoots to her feet.
Without warning, she clamps a hand around the back of the girl's neck in the front row.
Argh...!
Hey, class prez! You're supposed to set the example, so care to explain why you pulled a stunt like that? And don't act like it's your first time, either.
I-it wasn't me!
Weren't you bragging about that new lipstick just the other day?
The color's hard to miss.
Thought you said it was expensive, but here you are using it to scribble. Must be nice having money to burn.
Anis clamps down harder on the nape of the girl's neck.
I-I wasn't the only one!
But you're in on this too! C'mon, class prez, step up and take the hit for the whole class!
Eeeeeek...!
The class president rips herself away from Anis's grip, rubbing her neck as she glares icily.
You wanna know why?
You're a nobody, yet you strut around like you're all that! That's why!
What the hell are you talking about?
You're an orphan!
You only got in here on some scholarship!
You've got absolutely nothing, so why do you strut around like you're in charge?
I'm the leader! I'm the class president! Not you!
...
Oh... I get it now.
You're from some perfect family, so you get to be class president.
And me? No parents, scraping by on government handouts, and suddenly I'm a threat to your precious spot.
That pisses you off, so you pull this kind of crap, right?
Puh-lease, know your place!
Just because everyone humors you doesn't mean they actually like you!
The classroom door slides open,
and the teacher enters.
... What are you doing?
...
... Nothing at all.
Sit. Class is starting.
The class president glances at the teacher and quickly returns to her seat.
The teacher eyes Anis for a moment before walking toward the podium.
Anis lunges at the class president.
Hey, I'm not done with you yet!
Gah! Teacher! Teacher!
How many times is this now?
Dunno. Can't remember.
Stop causing trouble.
She's the one who started it first. I didn't do a single thing.
I'm not saying she's in the right,
but things like this don't just happen for no reason.
It might help if you take a hard look at yourself.
Are you for real right now?
What?
Whoops, my bad! That came out wrong, haha. I just meant it's a shame you're only bringing it up now.
But hey, Teacher... I've thought it over, and honestly? I don't see a single thing I did wrong.
Hmm... You were the cheer captain at the recent sports festival, weren't you?
Yeah.
You volunteered?
Yep.
Why?
Obviously, I'm the best at it. I can plan the moves, lead the team, and have a pretty decent personality to boot.
And the others agreed?
How else would I have become the captain?
Why didn't you just let the class president have it?
...
You know how it is, Anis... The class president...
Yeah, yeah, her parents throw money at this school, and she's just as dumb and selfish as you'd expect.
Hmm. So you know, huh?
Guess that explains it, then.
Isn't that way too blunt for teaching a kid how messed-up the Ark really is?
You think this only started when you came to the Ark? No, it's a culture with its own history and traditions.
Hmm...
All right, Anis. Since we're talking about it, I'll be blunt.
You were abandoned at birth and bounced from one facility to the next.
Then, by some stroke of luck, you get picked for the chairman's so-called charity program—special admission for the underprivileged, just to look good in the papers.
And now you've got things you've never had before: free housing, free meals, free education.
So why isn't that enough? Why do you keep asking for more?
Wow, Teacher, that's a hell of a way to talk to a student. You sure that's allowed?
Yeah, and honestly? This is fine for you.
...
So, your answer?
Do I really have to be honest?
I've been honest with you, haven't I?
...
I just want people to like me...
I've never really known that feeling, but here at school... ugh, damn it, I'm tearing up!
Here, some tissue.
When I got to school, the kids actually talked to me and hung out with me.
It felt amazing, so I pushed myself even harder to get along with everyone.
I thought that if I worked hard and did well... maybe they'd like me for it.
You're lonely, aren't you?
Yeah, always.
Why don't you just quit school?
Wow, you really don't hold back, do you?
You're not going to get what you want here. The class president will keep pushing you around.
And all outside activities, even part-time jobs, are off-limits, so you're just stuck here.
At this point, you might as well quit and do what you actually want.
You're living your life well because you work hard and fight for what you want. Honestly, that's impressive.
But not here. Here, you'll get completely crushed, and all your effort will count for nothing.
The memories you make in school... they'll stick with you for the rest of your life.
So quit. Transferring would be tough... with your special admission and all.
Still, wherever you end up in the world, I'm sure you'll manage just fine.
Come on, Teacher, give me a hand, will ya?
No, you know how it works. I've got bills to pay, and the chairman's the one paying me.
...
Think it over. Now, go back to class.
Teacher.
There's nothing I can do.
I'm sorry.
...
Anis steps out of the teachers' room.
She pushes open the classroom door and steps inside. The lesson is in full swing.
The teacher talks, students scribble and whisper, but no one so much as glances her way.
Anis makes her way to her desk that's even more cluttered than before and drops into her seat.
After a while, she leans forward and rests her head on the desk, awake but motionless.
The lesson continues. The final bell rings, signaling the end of the day.
Murmurs ripple across the room, but Anis sits there, unmoving.
Gradually, the classroom grows quiet as time passes.
After a long while, Anis lifts herself from the desk.
The classroom is dark and empty as a loaded silence settles over her.
She packs her bag and heads back to the dorm.
All of her roommate's things are gone, but Anis just collapses onto the bed.
Voices drift in from all around,
but none of them are for her.
She closes her eyes and lets her memories surface.
The thank-you letter she wrote to a facility administrator, left unopened in the trash.
The time she asked a well-dressed peer to play, only to be slapped by their parent and splashed with water.
A friend she had made who was adopted and gone before she could say goodbye.
Meeting that friend years later and greeting them warmly, only to be met with an awkward, uncomfortable smile.
Dancing wildly on a stage, desperate for attention. At first, the laughter she got was intoxicating...
Until she realized it was mocking, and cried for days afterward.
A volunteer, who hugged her tightly with tears in their eyes, told her to take care when she left the second facility.
Unable to forget the volunteer, she looked everywhere, but all that remained was their cold digital gravestone.
The moment she tracked down the volunteer's daughter and begged for a hug, clinging as if her life depended on it.
At that moment, Anis is certain.
She must have been broken somewhere along the way, so desperate for love.
Anis opens her eyes.
On the first day of school, someone approaching her with a friendly smile.
Giving her courage when she had been timid and withdrawn.
Eating together, walking home together, talking endlessly.
The expectant looks when she volunteered to be cheer captain.
Practicing, laughing, and celebrating when they succeeded.
Feeling, unmistakably, that everyone liked her.
And at that moment, Anis is more certain than ever.
She isn't broken. She's better than she ever imagined.
That's why she doesn't want to let this slip away.
Even if it's fleeting—not even half a year—it's a time when she can finally like herself.
Anis closes her eyes again.
The next day...
Anis opens the classroom door and walks in.
Hey, good morning!
There's no response. No one even glances her way.
They finally finished the construction by the school gate. Gotta admit, it looks really nice!
The room remains silent. No one even looks at her.
... Hey, anyone got a clue what we're having for lunch?
She gets no reply. No one meets her eyes.
Uh... I finished all the homework. Wanna go over the answers with me...?
No one answers, or even glances in her direction.
...
Anis makes her way to her desk.
It's still a mess, with things scattered everywhere.
Amid it all, a single chrysanthemum blooms in a small vase.
...
Anis feels a sudden urge to grab the vase and smash it on the class president's head.
But she holds herself back.
She sets the vase in the corner of the desk, pulls a book from her bag, and begins studying.
Her eyes sting and her vision blurs, but she fights back the tears.
That day, she doesn't utter a single word until she returns to the dorm and crawls into bed.
4. PRETTY STAR: 4
126 linesMe? A celebrity? Really?
Yes, that's correct.
Tetra Line would like to formally invite you to debut with us.
...
Freesia pokes Oswald in the side.
See? I told you!
May I ask why?
I can't make sense of debuting a Nikke as a celebrity at this point.
And there must be a reason you chose Freesia, given that she's never shown any interest in the entertainment industry.
She's got talent.
Once she debuts, she'll shoot straight to stardom.
I'll stake my reputation on it.
I wouldn't be so sure about that.
You think I'd lie?
Yes, there's nothing backing that claim.
... I hate to brag, but I'm a very successful producer.
When it comes to spotting raw talent, no one even comes close.
Where did you get information on Freesia? You shouldn't have had any contact with her.
Every Nikke application goes through me. After all, we are a Nikke manufacturing company.
...
Tetra Line hasn't been doing well lately.
So you intend to make Freesia a symbol for advancing Nikke rights to gain support?
By my calculation, the Nikkephobes make up half the Ark's population,
and you intend to win over the other half by turning her into a celebrity.
... You work in this industry, don't you?
I suppose you could say that.
You're right.
...
Hanson.
As you said, Tetra Line's situation is indeed far from ideal.
Following the failure of the surface reclamation war, hostility toward the Nikkes has spread throughout the Ark.
As a result, Tetra Line, which had been preparing a major entertainment project centered on the Nikkes, is now taking a direct hit.
That's precisely why we need your daughter.
So, you're hoping to turn things around by putting a Nikke with a story in the spotlight?
I won't deny that,
but that's not the whole story.
The current situation is wrong.
Nikkes should be celebrated as the Goddesses of Victory,
not treated with scorn.
...
... I was only a child when the Rapture invasion occurred. I was powerless then.
But I remember watching them fight for us on television.
When I didn't know any better, I thought they were simply impressive. Once I learned the truth, I realized how noble their choices truly were.
And now, those very Nikkes are being made scapegoats, persecuted for circumstances beyond their control.
The Central Government's neglect has left even their supporters unable to speak openly.
This is wrong. It should never have been allowed to happen.
... Your daughter's story is a compelling one.
Someone who died fighting for Nikke rights was reborn as a Nikke and now chooses to fight again.
With Tetra Line's unparalleled character branding and promotional power, we can spread that story throughout the Ark.
I want those who fight for Nikke rights to be able to speak freely and with confidence.
... I may be overstepping, but you seem well-versed in this field. I believe you understand exactly what I mean.
...
Please forgive me for speaking of such a tragic death in this way,
but this is a rare opportunity.
Does she really need to be a celebrity?
I trust you know there's nothing that can shape public opinion quite like celebrities.
...
I'm asking you to give the Nikkes hope.
The Ark needs it now more than ever.
Oswald looks at Freesia,
whose eyes are sparkling like fire.
Deep down, he knows that
there is no stopping this.
So, let me get this straight,
I'm going to be a celebrity and fight for Nikke rights, right?
To sum it up, yes.
But we won't do it out in the open. Everything we do is under the radar.
That's the kind of thing we excel at.
...
Mister.
...
Oswald stares intently at Hanson.
I have one condition.
Sure, I'll do everything I can to accommodate it.
Hanson, stay by Freesia's side as her manager
and keep a close eye on everything she does.
You do realize he's a board member at Tetra, right? He's not going to waste his time playing some celebrity's manager...
Yes, I understand.
Hanson.
It's all right. That was my plan from the start.
And one more thing...
Under no circumstances are you to send her to the other side.
The other side? I'm afraid I don't follow...
Do you want me to go into the details of what really goes on behind closed doors at Tetra?
...
Who the hell is this guy...?
Make no mistake: this is a warning, not a request.
... Understood. I'll keep that in mind.
I'm counting on you.
It's a pleasure. I look forward to working with you.
Freesia gets up
and extends her hand toward Hanson.
Let's do our best together!
Ah... Yes, I look forward to working with you.
I'm Freesia.
Hanson.
Their hands meet in a firm shake.
Oswald's eyes linger on Freesia, noting the way she looks at Hanson.
Once again, he is certain that this cannot be stopped.
We start tomorrow.
The goal is a debut in six months.
It's going to be tough, so you'd better be ready.
Time drifts by.
Oswald finishes work and makes his way home.
He prepares dinner and watches the news.
The front door swings open, and Freesia stumbles in, utterly exhausted.
They share a meal and talk about her training, the house humming with the gentle rhythm of everyday life.
Freesia drifts off to sleep, and Oswald turns his attention to the work waiting for him tomorrow.
He's completely settled into this rhythm, this quiet repetition of days.
If life could flow like this forever, he thinks that there would be nothing left to wish for.
But a week later, Freesia steps into a new world.
That night, Oswald lies awake, wondering what he can do for her.
For nearly half a year, Anis has not uttered a single word.
The scribbles on her desk have mostly worn away. The chrysanthemum that sat in the vase is gone.
Everyone ignores her completely.
She tries to get angry. She tries to plead. Nothing changes.
Even the teachers stop responding.
There's no one to reach out to. Anis has no one.
On weekends, she lies alone in her dorm room all day.
Still, she goes to school, clinging to the tiniest hope that maybe, just maybe, someone will speak to her tomorrow.
Every time, that hope crumbles.
Eventually, she gives up. She says nothing. She expects nothing.
One day, after everyone leaves and the classroom grows dim and silent,
Anis stares blankly into space,
and for the first time in months, she speaks.
Why am I even still alive?
5. PRETTY STAR: 5
117 linesAnis sits on the rooftop railing,
staring blankly at the sky above.
She pulls out her phone
and scrolls through her recent messages.
"Hey, I have a question about something from class today, haha."
She tried to sound casual, but the message remains unread.
Her outgoing calls go unanswered, one after another.
And not a single incoming call has come through.
For a moment, she wonders if she's forgotten how to speak at all.
Ah, ah.
Her voice comes out just fine.
The absurdity of it all makes her lower her head and let out a small, shaky laugh.
Soon, the laugh turns into sobs.
Tears stream down, soaking her pants.
She wants to be loved,
really loved, in a way she's never known.
Anis makes one last call to her teacher.
It goes unanswered.
She pushes herself up, balancing on the narrow railing.
And then she closes her eyes...
One step, that's all it takes.
Just then,
music blares throughout the Ark, loud enough to shake the air.
It's bright and upbeat.
And over it, a woman's voice rises.
... A song...?
It's a pop song.
A light, pleasant melody with lyrics carried by a pretty voice.
Without even realizing it, Anis finds herself drawn to the music.
...
She knows it.
The song was not written for her.
And yet, it fills the air, calling out to her to keep going.
It tells her that she is worthy of love,
that she can get through anything life throws at her,
and that one day, she will look back on these moments and laugh.
Ah... ahh...
It cheers her on and wraps her in comfort.
It breathes courage into her.
It restores her sense of self-worth.
You
must live.
You have to live and taste the happiness life has to offer.
The lyrics ride the melody, gently nudging Anis away from the railing.
The song ends,
but she doesn't move from that spot until morning comes.
Tears streak down her face.
Encouragement and support fill her heart with warmth.
Anis whispers to herself, as if making a vow.
Wonderrrrrful!
Brilliant! Simply brilliant!
You actually went and did it, huh?
Thank you.
And the ratings?
The ratings came in at 41%.
Hah!
Well done, you make me proud.
... Thank you.
You kept coming to me for money, so I had to wonder what nonsense you were cooking up... and this is it, huh?
Her debut went off without a hitch.
Bet it cost a fortune to stream it live across the whole Ark.
Well, it wasn't exactly cheap.
If you need more, just say the word. I'll pour it in without hesitation.
You've done a fine job shaping her image. A Nikke who takes the stage for the others... Couldn't have timed it better.
So, what's next?
We're currently working on it.
Throw her into the spotlight. Every interview, every talk show, every damn variety program. I want her everywhere.
Push her to the limit. She's scrap metal anyway; she won't tire. Make sure everyone on the Ark knows her name.
So where is it, exactly?
What do you mean...?
That singing rust bucket. What's it called again?
Her stage name is Pretty.
Right, Pretty. Where'd she vanish to?
She went home.
Get her in here. It's time to celebrate. Have her start pouring the drinks.
I'm afraid that won't be possible under her contract.
A contract? What kind of crap is that?
One of the contract terms specifies that she must rest at home.
Screw your contracts!
You actually went along with this bullshit?
Her guardian was stubborn and flat-out refused to give his consent. What were we supposed to do?
Hmm...
And who exactly is the guardian?
I'll send the materials over later.
All right, let's just see how cocky this guardian thinks he is.
Here's the plan...
For the next week, I want every movement recorded. The rust buckets. The Nikkephobes. The opposition. Don't miss a single thing.
I'll deal with the Central Government myself.
If we play this right, we can turn it into something much bigger.
Wh-what exactly are you planning to do?
Just corporate whitewashing.
... Pardon?
That's enough. Bring the drinks.
And those scrap metals prepping for their debut? Call 'em all over here.
Tonight, we're gonna have some real fun.
...
...
Did you see that, Mister?
Yes, I did.
So... what'd you think?
You did great. You looked lovely, and you handled yourself really well.
Do these clothes suit me?
They do.
Hehe.
... Still, you might want to change into something more appropriate for a meal.
I know, but I really wanted you to see it!
But, Mister...
If I dance and sing, will it really make things better for the Nikkes?
Can I...
really give them hope?
If that's what you believe, then that's how it will be.
... Okay,
I'll go along with that.
6. PRETTY STAR: 6
177 linesTime moves on.
Pretty, the first celebrity Nikke, takes the Ark by storm with her debut song, Pretty Star.
Her gripping backstory propels her to stardom almost overnight,
and Tetra Line's relentless promotion only makes her fame soar higher.
Curious about how Pretty came to be,
fans begin questioning whether Nikke rights are really being respected.
With that, the Goddess Fall incident is thrust back into the public eye, reshaping how everyone sees Nikkes.
Riding the momentum of Pretty's rise, the Nikke Rights Committee grows in power,
while the Nikkephobes become bolder and more extreme in their actions.
Around this time, Mustang, CEO of Tetra Line, makes a major announcement.
At Tetra Line, we actively defend the rights of every Nikke!
They are not mere heartless weapons!
Non, they are comrades... liés to march forward with us!
En avant! With Nikke!
Riding the wave of Pretty's popularity, Tetra Line launches the With Nikke campaign.
They hand full control to the Nikke Rights Committee, taking a step back to sponsor it while solidifying their own corporate identity.
Infrastructure and support systems for Nikkes are built, and those facing persecution receive active care.
Hostility toward the Nikkephobes is no longer hidden.
From that day on, Pretty becomes the public face of the Nikke Rights Committee,
and the With Nikke campaign spreads across the Ark like wildfire.
Of course, it doesn't come without consequences.
Mustang, have you completely lost it? What do you think you're doing?
What?
The Central Government isn't just going to sit back and watch.
One of the Big Three openly picking a fight with the Nikkephobes? What do you think that'll accomplish?
They need the Nikkephobes, since it's the perfect tool for covering up their own mess.
Old age catching up to you? Looks like you've lost your edge.
Excuse me?
Does it matter to the Central Government whether people hate scrap metals or worship them? Not a bit.
All that matters is that they don't get blamed for anything.
Look at this mess, the haters and supporters tearing each other apart,
while the fence-sitters are too busy watching the circus.
Do you think the Central Government has time to get involved? No, they're way too busy for that.
Even if the supporters come out on top, the government doesn't lose a thing.
All they have to do is act like they're looking out for us, and the self-proclaimed intellectuals will lap it up.
As for past scandals? Easy, just grab someone, make an example of them in the square, and problem solved.
...
Sure, I was uneasy too. The last thing I needed was trouble from the Central Government,
but it's all taken care of, so relax.
You cut a deal with them?
Remember those rust buckets gearing up for their debut?
Yeah, they're already in an uproar over Pretty cutting in line, and now there's more?
Heh, don't worry. That's the last you'll see of them.
You don't mean...
Kitted them out with the best parts money can buy and sent one to each of the top brass. They'll be thrilled.
And if anyone thinks of messing with us, we've got leverage ready to keep them in check.
...
And if that doesn't work, we can always send Shade to slit their throats.
It's not exactly rocket science.
Do you even realize who these girls are?!
I raised them myself, with meticulous care!
Yeah, and I raised them on my dime. So they owe it all to me.
Even when they pay me back, they get something out of it. Beautiful, isn't it?
You disgust me.
You've got some nerve, talking to me like that.
Forget about the dead weights and focus on Pretty.
Forget her dancing and singing. Just make sure she's presentable.
Image is everything. Make her a symbol everyone will remember.
That's exactly what I'm doing.
And give her a taste of power and wealth.
...
Praise her, indulge her, get her addicted to the high life.
Make sure she never even thinks of going back.
What exactly are you trying to do?
This is just in case. It'd be a real pain if she suddenly decides she doesn't care about fame or money.
There's no way we're letting a prize like this slip away.
Make luxury part of her life, turn her into a celebrity.
Got it?
... Fine.
But Mustang,
you're going to hell.
Damn right.
As the company sponsoring Pretty and the With Nikke campaign, Tetra Line's stocks keep surging as it gains a pro-Nikke image.
At the center of it all, Pretty is stretched thin under the relentless workload.
Ughhh!
I'm sooo exhausted!
Don't sprawl out like that. What if someone takes a picture?
It's all good! They tinted it, remember?
But a thermal camera would capture everything.
Yeah, yeah, let them film. It's not like I ever get a break anyway.
Next up's the talk show, right? Three hours this time?
That's right.
I've got the script down pat. Now I just need to decide where to throw in some improv.
You really do work hard.
I know this is a bit out of the blue, but why do you push yourself so hard?
Hey, Hanson, have you ever seen the Goddess Squad in person?
Hmm... No.
Hehe, I have!
... What? When?
I remember seeing them as a kid during the Ark evacuation.
I even have Red Hood's autograph at home.
That's amazing... I can hardly believe it.
I'm not making this up.
Anyway, that's exactly why I work so hard.
I want to give people hope, just like the Goddess Squad did.
Sometimes, just being there, just being seen, is enough to lift people's spirits.
That's the kind of person I want to be.
And the more I give my all, the more I see that life is getting better for the Nikkes. So how could I ever slack off?
Still, it's rare these days to come across anyone who's Nikkephobic.
Yeah, that's such a relief.
It's all thanks to you.
No way! It's really all thanks to the staff, Mrs. Miss, and a certain director-slash-manager.
...
Hmm... Looks like I'll be getting home at dawn again.
Mister's probably still up... Ugh, I feel awful about that.
Isn't it time for Mr. Oswald to retire soon?
Nah, he says he can't sit still without his mind going a mile a minute.
You said you'd ask what was on his mind. Did you?
Noooo! His expression was so serious and stern that I couldn't even bring myself to ask.
Sounds like there's something going on.
... Yeah.
...
Ugh, I'm beat!
Hey, mind your legs while I'm driving.
Can we just stay like this for a while? I'm so exhausted.
They're heavy.
C'mon, how heavy could they be? This is a custom-built lightweight body, after all!
Move them now.
Seriously, why are you being so petty? Shouldn't you be grateful when a pop star rests her legs on you?
Or... is it that you just can't handle seeing the Ark's top idol showing off those flawless legs?
...
...
Hey, why'd you suddenly go all quiet?
You're right, so get those legs moving.
... Huh?
...
...
W-we're here. Let's get out.
Wha? O-oh, okay, l-let's go.
Meanwhile, the student saved by Pretty...
Uh, hey...
A-Anis.
...
A-Anis.
Yeah...
... Wait, what? Why...?
Um...
D-do you like Pretty?
Yeah... I like her.
Y-yeah? I, uh... I kinda figured, since you're always listening to her songs, hehe.
...
...
Um... I managed to get a concert ticket by chance...
Do you... want it?
Um... Anis.
The class president... isn't here today. I heard her cold's pretty bad, so she should be back tomorrow...
...
Anis lifts her head, eyes sweeping across the classroom.
The class president's seat is empty,
and all eyes in the class are on her.
So what...?
...
I-I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.
I've been meaning to... apologize for a while...
But... the class president is really scary...
...
I know it sounds like an excuse...
And I'll probably end up ignoring you again tomorrow, but... still...
We don't... dislike you. That part's really true... I hope you know that.
And... we all... prepared this ticket together.
Oh, yeah... H-here.
Anis takes the ticket.
I'm gonna have a blast.
The girl hesitates before Anis, then returns to her seat.
Anis turns toward the window, letting sunlight brush her face.
She slides in her earphones, and Pretty's music flows through her.
A small smile spreads across her face.
For the first time in what feels like ages,
she's glad to be here.
7. PRETTY STAR: 7
36 linesAnd time moves on.
...
Freesia is glued to her phone in the car.
What are you doing?
Just checking my social media.
Oh no, that mistake's so obvious... Everyone noticed it!
It happens. No one's perfect.
Still, they spent the time and money to come all this way...
Hey, Hanson, can we squeeze in a bit more practice?
Hmm... you're only getting three hours of sleep even now. Cutting back any more could be risky.
But...
... I'll cancel the dinner with the board. Honestly, we don't really need it.
But won't that make things harder for you?
It's fine. They know full well who they have to thank for their comfortable lives.
Sweet, thanks!
Next up is the With Nikke speech, right?
That's right. How's the script for that coming along?
I know my lines by heart, but I'm scared I'll get all emotional.
What if I burst into tears as soon as I get on stage?
If you feel like crying, then cry. What matters most is being sincere.
I swear, I look horrible in pictures whenever I cry.
No, you're beautiful.
Beautiful, huh?
...
So you think I'm beeeauuuutiful?
...
Anis steps into the classroom.
Her eyes meet a few of her classmates',
and for a moment, they share a silent greeting.
She slides into her seat. By now, the scribbles on her desk are almost completely erased.
Someone passes by and quietly leaves a piece of candy on the corner of her desk.
She unwraps it without a sound and pops it into her mouth.
Her gaze drifts to the window as she chews slowly.
She slips on her earphones and lets Pretty's music fill her ears.
Anis still doesn't speak at school,
but she isn't lonely anymore.
8. PRETTY STAR: 8
245 linesAnd time continues its quiet march.
...
Freesia is glued to her phone in the car.
What are you doing?
Just checking my social media.
Oh wow, everyone's still talking about that mistake I made on the last live stream.
Ugh... these people really blow these things out of proportion!
The remark you made at the With Nikke event was a serious mistake, and we're still dealing with the backlash.
Gotta hand it to them. People really love poking their noses in everyone else's business.
*Beep*
The speech is coming along nicely, I trust?
Yeah, it's going great.
What about the script?
At this point, a quick skim is enough. Who could memorize all that anyway?
So, what's the plan for your performance?
I'm going to cry.
Hmm. Smart move.
Like really bawl my eyes out. That should calm things down, right?
But don't overdo it. People get tired of seeing the same thing too often.
Of course. Oh, and I told the makeup team to make me look a little worn out.
Well, well. Looks like you can manage on your own now.
I couldn't have done it without my amazing producer!
You know there's a party after this, right? Make sure to show up and flash that smile of yours.
So this is all to just butter people up, huh? Count me out, I'm not singing.
I'm not making you perform. That performance's worth too much to waste on them for free.
See you later, then.
Okay!
*Beep*
Whew... I'm beat.
... Pretty.
... Wait, why'd you call me like that out of nowhere?
Are you doing okay?
Yeah, sure... but okay about what?
Well, just this and that.
...
Why do you ask?
It seems you've changed quite a bit.
I have?
Yes.
I've gotten used to it. I'm better at handling things now.
I can't let every nasty comment get to me, or even let my emotions run the show.
I'm a celebrity now, the very first Nikke celebrity.
I've got to take things in stride and keep my emotions in check.
Honestly? I think I'm pretty good at that.
... Yeah.
Are you happy now?
Absolutely,
I'm so happy I can't believe I didn't do this sooner.
I see...
As long as you're happy, that's all that matters.
...
Hanson,
I know I've changed a lot.
You're just exhausted. You'll feel better soon.
Yeah... it's hard. Really hard.
But I can't stop.
No matter how hard it gets,
I have to keep going.
Otherwise... I'll fall apart.
...
Why are you pushing yourself so hard?
Maybe things would turn out better if you took it a little easier.
...
I can't. I've become a symbol.
Pretty is the face of Nikke rights now.
If I mess up, the Nikkes get blamed.
If I do well, they're the ones who get praised.
So I can't take it easy.
But going full power all the time wears me down.
Right now, putting on a mask is the only way I can keep going.
... Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how heavy that must feel.
Honestly, it still hasn't quite sunk in for me.
How are you holding up? Feeling stressed?
It's intense... Living a life where everything I do is under watch, and every single action I make can have huge consequences.
But... once I'm home, I'm fine. I can just be myself.
I see Mr. Oswald has been taking good care of you.
No. He doesn't say much. He just makes me food, we chat a little, and that's it.
But even that's such a comfort.
...
Mister...
He doesn't show it openly, but he really cares about what I'm doing.
He loves the Nikkes as much as I do.
We're both huge Goddess Squad fans.
Once, he told me...
that I'm doing something he never even dared to dream of.
That makes him happy.
He says he's proud of me.
And that's why I can't stop.
...
I've acted so spoiled with him
ever since we first met,
and he's never complained once.
He saved me... He really did.
Living together, he tried so hard
to be a good... ugh, I'm going to cry... a good father.
I tried just as hard to be a good daughter too...
I wasn't always great at it.
But now, I think I'm doing okay.
I want to be a daughter he can always be proud of.
That's why I can't stop.
...
...
Do you hate me now because I've changed?
...
Sorry, I was mistaken.
You haven't changed a bit.
You're just the same as always.
... Thanks.
I think it's about time I got my hands into politics.
Politics?
Isn't being the CEO of one of the Big Three enough?
No, I'm still under the Central Government's thumb.
Hardly what you could call a real seat of power.
And just what are you planning to do?
Nothing fancy.
I just want the whole Ark under my control.
Ah, the classic case of ambition ruining people.
But why now?
Because now's the perfect time to strike.
And how do you suppose you'd do that?
By profiting off Pretty.
...
I'll send Pretty out as the Central Government's PR ambassador.
They'll be ecstatic. After all, we're putting the Ark's finest propaganda tool right into their hands.
There'll be some backlash from the public, but only a tiny fraction.
Those who idolize Pretty will follow her blindly.
They always have. Did you honestly think they ever cared about Nikke rights?
And in return for handing them Pretty, I take my place in the top echelons of the Central Government.
Then what?
Well... If I manage to break into politics, the first thing I'd do is...
I'm talking about Pretty. I couldn't care less about what you're up to.
Same as always. Singing, dancing...
The only difference is their so-called fight for Nikke rights now just serves the Central Government.
Haha.
You really only ever think about yourself.
At the end of the day, the only thing that matters in life is me.
Living for others? That's just hypocrisy wrapped up as virtue.
Enough. I won't let you throw Pretty away like she's nothing.
There's a limit to ingratitude.
You're really going to use the very one who pulled Tetra Line back from hitting rock bottom and then discard her?
Get a grip. You didn't get here because you're exceptional.
You've been scraping by for so long that now you think you own the whole table.
What, lost your thrill all of a sudden? Want to get yourself fired?
Pretty still loves to dance and sing. And of course, she loves the Nikkes.
Exactly, that's why I'm letting her keep going.
If you do that, it won't be the same anymore.
So what? People change, and she's nothing but scrap metal anyway.
I'm warning you. Stay away from Pretty.
Don't push your luck. If you've got a problem, the door's that way.
...
Look at you, acting like some big-shot CEO. You're just a lowly producer.
Now get out.
Mrs. Miss glares at Mustang for a long moment before walking out.
Hmm... Hehe.
No way.
Uhm...!
Go to the Central Government? Not a chance!
Why not?
Why? Because I've been doing all this for the Nikkes...
You've done enough here. Now it's time to play in bigger waters.
Go to the Central Government. There, wealth and prestige beyond your wildest dreams await.
A life of entertainment unlike anything you've ever dared to imagine.
You really think that's what I wanted?
And you call yourself the CEO when you're so bad at reading people?
Umph...!
I'm not going. Not ever.
Oh really?
That's right.
Suit yourself. Retire then.
... Come again?
I said retire.
Why should I keep wasting money on a worthless hunk of junk that won't listen?
Retire, get out there and do whatever it is you love so much.
... But I'm the symbol of all Nikkes.
Then go handle it yourself.
Ready to sign the papers?
...
I took a worthless nobody and made you a star. And now? You're so arrogant it's insane.
Listen up, rust bucket.
Everything you flaunt around as some shiny symbol of scrap metals? It's all thanks to my money.
My hand behind every publicity stunt, every fabricated scandal, every crafted image, every record you've ever sold. Who do you think made all that happen?
You think singing and dancing alone would've cut it? You've never been that good at either.
Deep down, you know it was never enough.
That's why you're keeping your mouth shut.
...
Refuse my offer, and I'll kick you out and spread every vile rumor I can think of.
Pretty used to despise Nikkes, and the moment she became one, she put on a fake act of repentance just to fool everyone in the Ark.
No one in the Ark would fall for a lie like that.
You really think that?
I turned a nobody Nikke into the biggest pop star the Ark has ever seen.
Think I can't take it all away?
...
You have no idea how many people are just waiting for you to screw up.
Climbing up is hard, but coming down? That's a whole different story.
I could have you on your knees in half a day. Care for a taste?
...
Relax, I'm just joking. Why so serious?
Fine, two years. Just two years with the Central Government.
After that, I'll have you back here. No questions, no excuses.
...
Go ahead, think it over.
But how long do you need?
I'll talk to him.
That bastard... Him again.
Hm...
Fine, have it your way.
Three days. I'll cover you with the sick leave, so use the time wisely.
Now get out of my sight.
Freesia leaves the room.
Mm...
Hmm...
She still won't break.
Unbelievable.
Drowned in glamour and indulgence... and she's still standing?
Anyone else would've caved by now. Once they fall, I could've molded them however I pleased.
She's changed, though. Sloppier. Better at putting on an act.
But her core? Still intact.
Should I tamper with her NIMPH...? No, too dangerous. If I fry her mind, this all becomes worthless.
Huh...
Home.
No matter what happens, she goes home after every schedule. Like clockwork.
More than once, I thought I had her. She was right on the edge. Then she goes home and comes back perfectly fine. Every time.
That's where she's reinforcing herself.
...
That old man, Oswald.
He's the problem.
Mustang opens the safe and flips through the documents containing Oswald's personal information.
The pages are almost entirely redacted, each stamped with "Censored."
I figured he wasn't just some ordinary guy, so I let him be... But if he tries to get in my way...
Mustang picks up his phone, taps a few buttons,
and the call connects with a beep.
Pick up already! What, stuffed yourself into a stupor again?
*Beep*
Mustang here.
Nothing serious. Just thought I'd check in.
Haha. Yeah, you can tell, right? I've never been much of a liar.
... Anyway, there's someone I need to take care of personally.
I need some info, and he's not exactly your average guy, so I came straight to you.
Yeah, seems like a real big shot.
Hm...
As expected, very efficient of you. Appreciate it.
I'll be waiting for your call.
*Beep*
...
Heh. Isn't life just wonderful?
9. PRETTY STAR: 9
156 linesResign.
... Huh?
Go independent.
Geez, Mister, I already told you everything Mustang said!
Yeah, I heard.
What you're really worried about isn't losing access to Tetra's resources.
... Yeah, that doesn't scare me. I know I can start from scratch again.
But honestly, the rumors scare me more than anything.
Don't worry, they're just empty threats.
He wouldn't destroy something he had painstakingly built.
Mustang's not just some ordinary guy.
Neither are you.
...
You're in a league of your own.
I probably shouldn't say this, but right now, no one in the Ark can even think of touching you.
You're a symbol everyone looks up to.
So go ahead and forge your own path without worry.
Wow... hearing you say that really makes me feel so confident.
Okay then, I'll trust you and go my own way.
Yeah, I don't need anything else. With you by my side, I can push through anything!
... Good.
Okay, I'm gonna go chat with Hanson real quick!
... At this hour?
Yeah, I've gotta tell him right away!
...
Only speak to him.
Huh? What do you mean?
... It's nothing. Off you go.
Okay, I'm off! See you later!
Freesia sprints away.
Oswald's eyes follow her, and only when she's gone does he reach for his phone.
*Beep*
It's me.
It's been a while, Chief.
I have a favor to ask.
Sorry, Chief, but I'm turning in my resignation tomorrow.
I'm sorry.
*Sigh*
Guess I'll have to put off retirement again.
The next day, in Mustang's office at Tetra Line.
... What's this?
These are files documenting Tetra Line's internal misconduct.
They show records of Nikkes being regularly sent to the Central Government,
and the purpose of each dispatch is clearly recorded.
So that's supposed to scare me?
I just wanted to let you know about this.
Hm...
You just want me to leave Pretty alone, is that it?
Yes.
Huh...
That should be all.
I'll take my leave.
Hellhound Oswald, still playing soldier at your age?
I could bury you in an instant, but here you are, acting far too recklessly.
Go ahead.
I've got nothing to lose.
What about your daughter?
You won't touch Freesia.
I trust you're smarter than that.
Uhm...
Fine, I'll ask you one thing.
How'd it feel abandoning the Goddess Squad on the surface?
...
You did that, didn't you?
... The Goddess Squad deserted after the Ark sealing operation.
No,
I know exactly what you did. You abandoned them.
...
When you're the CEO of one of the Big Three, you get to know things. All kinds of things.
Old voice logs uploaded into machines. Transcripts from the Ark sealing operation.
Now... what was it again?
"Thank you, and the Goddess Squad, for everything you have done for humanity?"
Heh, how moving.
...
You really believed you scrubbed that clean, didn't you? No.
Anyone with half a brain already knew. They just looked the other way since the Hellhound was too valuable to lose.
And letting the Goddess Squad into the Ark? That would've been... inconvenient. So it was quietly brushed aside.
Now tell me. How did it feel?
Abandoning your precious heroes up on the surface.
...
Ahh... the poor Goddesses. Rolling around up there like stray dogs.
Just when it looked like they might finally set foot inside the Ark, they were played for fools and abandoned.
A tragedy. Truly.
Pretty adored the Goddesses, too. What a pity.
Without a word, Oswald walks past Mustang and heads for the door.
What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?
Stay away from Freesia.
Consider this a warning.
A warning? How cute.
Oswald grips the doorknob.
Oh, right.
I wouldn't open that door if I were you.
...?
...
!
Oswald yanks the door open.
Beyond it, Freesia's eyes widen in shock as they lock with his.
Whoops, I called our superstar Pretty and completely forgot about her.
Left her standing at the door. How utterly dreadful of me.
...
Freesia.
No way...
Mister, that can't be true, right?
...
It's true.
I did it, even though I can't explain why.
H-how...?
Freesia.
Oswald reaches out,
but Freesia swats his hand away.
Don't touch me!
...
Ugh... this is the worst!
Freesia dashes off.
Oswald stands frozen, eyes following her every move.
Meanwhile, Mustang laughs.
Haha! Hahaha!
Now that's entertainment!
That was a bit too much.
Huh...?
There's no need to come between a father and daughter, is there?
Have you lost your mind? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?
You could've just pressured them like you always do. Why did you have to split them—
*Wham!*
A fist smashes into Hanson's jaw, and he hits the floor.
Ugh...!
You think being Pretty's manager makes you someone special?
Listen closely, Hanson. Everything you have right now,
the clothes on your back,
the shoes on your feet,
the car you drive,
the room you sleep and wash in.
None of it belongs to you.
It's all mine. Every last bit!
You live a life most people could only dream of,
and yet you haven't earned a single thing yourself.
You play at being Pretty's manager for a while, and suddenly you think you raised her!
What if I took it all back, or simply reclaimed what's mine? What would you have left?
Nothing.
You'd be nothing!
So just stick to driving her around and handling her schedule!
Remember your place and don't overstep, Hanson.
...
Do what I tell you. Just like you always have and always will.
Understood?
...
Do I make myself clear?
... Yes.
*Sigh...*
You pathetic fool. What a loser.
If that father and daughter mean that much to you, the least you could do is put up a fight.
Now get out of my sight!
Hanson staggers to his feet,
bows his head, and leaves the room.
...
Tsk, pathetic!
10. PRETTY STAR: 10
170 linesTime passes in a blur.
Man... I'm pooped.
Freesia flops onto the opulent bed, letting herself sink into the soft layers.
A service robot glides over, setting wine and cheese on the table.
She props herself up and takes a bite, savoring the rich flavors.
Phew... I can finally breathe for a second.
*Beep*
Pretty, come down.
What? Why? I've done everything on the schedule for today.
A Central Government bigwig is here. Come say hello.
But the transfer's still a long way off, isn't it?
Better to let them know you early. It'll make things easier later.
... Fine.
You've got the 20-year vintage, right? I'm not going if it's not there.
Of course, everything's taken care of.
Now get your ass over here.
Okaaaay!
*Beep*
Pretty swings her legs out of bed.
When she opens the door, Hanson is there, waiting.
Ah! You scared me!
Where are you going?
The boss called. Apparently, someone important from the Central Government is here.
Before you go, can we talk about what happened today?
What, you mean me yawning?
That's right.
Ugh, I'm so tired! You do know I only get six hours of sleep a day, right?
You should have held it in. It was a memorial for the Nikke Rights Committee.
What now? Everyone losing it on social media again?
So what? It's already happened.
We can just get the boss to handle it, and that'll be the end of it.
Pretty.
... There you go, calling me that again.
Tell me,
do you remember why you started performing in the first place?
Yeah, I remember.
I started for the Nikkes, to restore their honor
and to be a symbol of hope for all of them.
Then why are you acting like this?
Hanson, I just got back, and I'm exhausted.
...
There's no such thing as a perfect pop star.
We all mess up once in a while, but we can always do better next time.
You've done well so far.
Just keep going a little longer...
For how much longer?
...
How much longer am I supposed to keep pushing myself?
And...
Why should I even try?
...
Where am I supposed to draw strength from?
Mister? No, I could rely on him at first,
but in the end, he turned out to be the worst.
All that talk about heroes and ideals? Lies. He abandoned the very people he claimed to care about.
My safe place? Nothing but a filthy, rotten pit.
The person I looked up to? A fake, a hypocrite.
If there's no one left to lean on, what reason do I have to keep going?
... Am I not enough?
...
No, you're not.
You're nothing more than Mustang's puppet. You have no free will.
If he finds out I'm counting on you, he'll crush you in an instant.
Do you even have what it takes to fight him?
Can you really break free from his control?
... Yes, I can.
Oh, yeah?
Pretty glances at the camera on the ceiling,
then moves to stand in front of Hanson.
Kiss me.
...
Come on, kiss me, Hanson.
...
...
See? You really can't do anything, can you?
Freesia brushes past Hanson, bumping his shoulder as she goes.
Hanson stays rooted to the spot for a long moment.
Freesia lives in a lavish mansion provided by Tetra Line.
She hasn't returned home once, nor exchanged a single word with Oswald.
After losing her umbrella, she slowly falls under Mustang's influence.
Under Mrs. Miss's guidance, she gradually transforms into a pop star.
Then one day, during a press conference about a downtown alcohol-fueled incident,
more than twenty armed Nikkephobes swarm Freesia.
*Rat-tat-tat-tat*
...!!
Get down! Don't move!
Where did they even get weapons like that?!
Goddammit! Where the hell is the Central Government when you need them?!
*Rat-tat-tat-tat*
Agh!
I'll distract them! When I do, run!
There's a car behind us! Get ready!
Wh-what are you saying?! You'd die if you got shot! Then I'll—
They've got anti-Nikke weapons! You won't be safe either!
Here I go...! One, two—
Wait!
From the entrance, waves of mass-produced Nikkes from the Central Government surge in,
crashing with the Nikkephobes in a violent firefight.
Gunfire and explosions tear through the air, screams ripping from every corner.
Freesia huddles beneath the podium, clutching her head, her own cries piercing the chaos.
And then, just like that, everything goes silent.
Phew... almost bit the dust there.
...
Freesia steps carefully off the podium.
The dead are everywhere. Humans. Nikkes.
She freezes.
An officer in full military dress spots Mustang and rushes over.
*Crack, crack* Nikke fragments crunch under his boots.
He greets Mustang with a wide, practiced smile, rambling excuses.
"The Nikkephobes had been quiet lately. We didn't expect such a large-scale attack."
He insists it's a relief that Mustang is unharmed and desperately promises it will never happen again.
Freesia lowers her gaze.
She takes in the fallen Nikkes,
then lifts her head.
Her eyes meet those of a mass-produced Nikke silently clearing the bodies of her comrades, unnoticed by everyone else.
Her eyes are empty. Hollow.
For a brief moment, that empty stare rests on Freesia, then returns to the grim task of sweeping up the remains.
Freesia collapses to the floor.
A scream rises inside her, silent and raw.
No...
They've fallen.
Not again...
No, not like this!
The next day, Freesia cancels all her activities.
The media reports she's in a slump,
and for the first time since her debut, she goes on an extended break.
So... really no one's volunteering for the chairman's visit performance?
If you're willing to endure a little embarrassment in the auditorium, there'll be a scholarship and other perks.
You don't even have to be that good.
Silence falls over the classroom.
Hmm... Okay, no one's volunteering.
Each class has to have at least one, so now you're putting me in a bind.
Should I just pick someone myself? You wouldn't like that, right?
Come on, just grit your teeth and do it. It'll be over before you know it. Help me out here.
The class president raises her hand.
I recommend Anis.
...
As soon as the class president finishes speaking, a heavy silence settles over the room.
She listens to Pretty's songs all the time, so singing and dancing to one shouldn't be a problem for her.
...
So... what do you think, Anis?
Anis stares daggers at the class president.
Drunk on her small victory, the class president smiles faintly at Anis before turning away.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Anis finally speaks up at school.
Yeah, I'll take care of the performance.
... All right, whenever you've got a song in mind, just send me a message.
Okay.
All right, that's it for today. Get home safe.
With that, class ends for the day.
Anis narrows her eyes, her gaze fixed on the back of the class president's head.
Without so much as a glance, she hurriedly packs her bag and slips out of the classroom.
... That piece of shit.
A-Anis.
Uh, yeah?
Wh-what song are you going to do? Pretty Star, right? It's her debut song, after all.
I-I have footage of her live performance... so I'll send it to you.
Oh... Yeah, thanks.
Y-you move so well, Anis. You'll totally nail it.
Are you going to sing too?
Yeah... I guess so?
I've also got a high-quality backing track we can use.
I-if it's okay with you, I can help out too.
You mean the class president? It's fine.
Y-you're gonna be doing a Pretty song, after all.
Two of my faves together... Hehe, I can put up with the class president for this.
...
A-are we starting today? Maybe we should. D-do you want to go together?
Uh... y-yeah.
11. PRETTY STAR: 11
189 linesFreesia wanders the streets with her cap pulled low over her eyes and a mask hiding the rest of her face.
Hanson walks at her side, matching her pace without a word.
Up ahead, a citizen presses an empty can into the hand of a Nikke walking down the street.
The last of its contents already drained.
The Nikke lets out a sigh, takes it from him, and tosses it into a nearby trash bin.
Freesia and Hanson keep moving.
The Nikkes stationed at the public facility stand guard, their uniforms disheveled and their bodies worn and battered.
A group of students lingers nearby, snickering as they hurl scraps of food at them for sport.
The Nikkes don't react. They don't even flinch.
No one steps in. No one tells the students to stop.
Freesia and Hanson continue down the street.
In a dark corner of the park, a mass-produced Nikke is getting pummeled, her body swaying with each hit.
It isn't supposed to hurt. The attackers wield nothing but cheap plastic rods and their own hands, hardly enough to cause real damage.
But that Nikke's face twists in pain.
Freesia and Hanson keep walking down the street.
They pass a shop where a Nikke stands awkwardly at the entrance.
The owner refuses to sell to her. She fidgets in place, unsure whether to plead or leave.
From the neighboring store, another shopkeeper watches her with open pity but says nothing.
Freesia and Hanson keep walking.
A little farther on, a drunken man uses a Nikke as a target for his slurred abuse.
Another is subjected to crude jeers and harassment.
One stands rigid as someone spits in her face.
And then...
a citizen breaks down in front of another Nikke and shouts,
"It's because you lost that we ended up like this!"
The Nikke lowers her head like a criminal awaiting judgment, simply enduring it without protest.
Freesia and Hanson turn their eyes away from the scene and continue on.
They find a quiet spot in the far corner of the park and sit down.
Freesia's tears fall.
She weeps over and over, lost in her sorrow.
This is all my fault...
I caused this.
... Things were different in your heyday.
I can't say there were no Nikkephobes, but people were careful about how they acted.
At least society treated Nikkes kindly back then.
Everyone believed you would be a symbol forever.
There's no such thing as forever, is there?
Everyone expects me to be perfect.
I can do it
but it never ends.
How long do I have to keep being flawless?
I'm tired too. It's hard.
And the moment I slip up even a little, everyone judges me even more harshly.
And that affects the whole world.
Because I'm a symbol, and everyone looks up to me.
So I gave up. It was just too much.
... And this is the result.
...
I don't know if I can do it again. Because... it would never end.
... If only Mister were here...
...
Tell me...
What exactly am I supposed to do, Hanson?
... I don't know.
*Bzzz*
...
*Bzzz*
... Take it. I'm sure it's Mustang.
... Sorry.
Hanson answers the phone. A torrent of shouting blasts from the other end, harsh and unrelenting.
When he hangs up, he turns to Freesia with an unreadable expression.
... Go ahead.
I'm just going to sit here for a bit.
... Sorry.
Freesia does not respond.
Hanson rises from his seat, casts her a quick glance, and then takes off running.
The park is silent under the night sky.
Freesia stares into the empty space, lost in thought.
...
I just don't know anymore.
C-c-c-can...
...?
C-can I get your autograph...?
... Who are you?
F-f-fan. I-I'm your fan.
... You know who I am?
Pretty...
... How'd you know?
Your body shape and fashion style...
... You're a stalker?
No way.
...
How on earth did you figure out it's me?
'Cause I'm a fan...
How old are you?
Seventeen...
... You're still so young.
Freesia stares at Anis intently.
Her eyes glitter with excitement, betraying the thrill she's trying to contain. It's the unmistakable expression of a fan.
Sit. I've been feeling a bit down, so let's chat for a while.
Wow, really?
Shh! Keep it down, someone might hear us.
Hehe. Hehehe.
Anis sits down next to Freesia.
Wow, this feels like a dream.
...
Why do you like me?
Because whenever I see you, I feel like I can take on anything.
Oh really?
I don't know... You just give me strength.
You know, I used to get picked on for standing up to the popular kid in class,
but listening to your songs helped me get through it.
And now, I feel like I can handle whatever comes next.
It's like this little spark of hope that tells me things are gonna be okay.
Hope...
Yeah.
At first, your songs totally saved me... Wait, scratch that. They gave me strength.
Then just seeing you on TV was enough to keep me going.
And now? Even a photo of you does the trick.
I've been stirring up all kinds of trouble lately.
...
So, for me, you're still at your absolute coolest.
Hehe, is that so?
Thank you. You really know how to comfort people, and you're so mature for your age.
...
...
Oh, right! I've been practicing Pretty Star lately. Wanna see?
I'm going to perform in the school talent show. You know that super-popular kid I told you about?
Yeah, she set me up for this on purpose to screw me over.
Kids these days really don't mince their words.
And after that?
I haven't really thought about it... Just wanna get a little payback.
You've got a dream, hope, and the drive to make it happen.
It's all thanks to you.
...
Did I... really give you hope?
Can I really keep doing this?
...
Haha, okay.
Let's see you dance. Show me what you've got.
Huh? Really?
Yeah.
The quiet park comes alive under the night sky.
Anis dances with pure joy, as Freesia watches, a soft smile lighting her face.
A song signaling the start of their journey plays vividly in their minds.
One, two, three, four. And stretch...
Streeetch!
Yes, that's it! That's it!
And right here. Bam, bam, bam!
...
Wow, you're really talented.
Oh yeah? You think I can get back at her?
For sure, she won't know what hit her!
Hahaha.
That was so much fun.
Hehe. I know, right?
By the way, I noticed you always tilt your head back during breaks on stage. Why do you do that?
Is it some kind of breathing technique?
I do? How'd you know?
Well... I've watched tons of your practice videos and stuff...
Oh wow, you're such a big fan.
Damn right!
...
Up on the surface,
it was so nice to just sit and watch the clouds pass by.
Especially when you'd been waiting for someone endlessly. Somehow, watching them made time fly, and it felt really good.
Oh...
Anis looks up at the sky.
I can't see anything, though.
Well, yeah. It's night, and we're not even on the surface.
...
Whoa, it's getting pretty late! Shouldn't you be heading home and getting some sleep?
Oh... yeah.
Oh yeah, the autograph! I almost forgot the most important thing.
It's fine. I already got something way better.
Hehe, fair enough.
...
Me... your idol forever? Really?
...
All right, I'll hang in there. Thank you.
See ya. Stay safe.
Anis runs ahead, brimming with energy.
Freesia watches her for a while, then turns and starts walking away.
...
An idol forever...
12. PRETTY STAR: 12
161 linesThere's no such thing as a pop star that lasts forever.
Never has been.
Time passes, tastes change, and eventually, even the brightest stars fade.
It's just the way things are.
In a way, it is only natural.
There's a reason people say you should leave on a high note.
You mean retirement?
Yes, retirement.
After that... people don't nitpick every little detail anymore,
and you get more freedom, in a way.
Even if your fame fades, it doesn't matter. You've retired, after all.
Your fans will get it since you can't keep running at full speed forever.
...
Why? Do you want to retire?
I'd be lying if I said I didn't.
That won't be easy.
Mustang won't just let it happen. He'll use any means necessary to keep you from leaving.
I figured.
You know by now he stops at nothing to get what he wants.
I guess there's no getting out of this, huh?
I doubt it.
If I can't be a pop star forever, and I can't retire,
what does that leave me with?
... At this point, all I can do is delay the inevitable.
And in the end, I'll vanish completely, leaving no trace.
...
I'm sorry.
... I didn't expect you to say something like that, Mrs. Miss.
I'm the one who made you a pop star,
so I always knew this day would come.
Still, there was nothing I could do.
Was it for the money?
Money? I already have more than I could ever need.
... The Ark was drowning in darkness. It needed a star,
and you were born to be that star.
A star...
Bright stars cast their light over everyone.
Those who gaze up at them are captivated and forget their troubles, even if only for a moment.
For that brief instant, pain fades, and all that remains is joy.
That's the power of entertainment.
...
You're a star. The Ark's star.
My job is to buy as much time as I can until that star dims.
Until the next one rises.
So I'll help you with anything... except retirement.
... I don't know whether I should thank you or resent you.
Then resent me. It'll make things easier.
You seem troubled. Have you talked to your father?
...
Don't tell me you haven't gone to see him even once all this time?
Yeah,
I don't want to meet that person who would abandon his heroes...
...
...
What's wrong?
... Oh right,
there really aren't any... stars who last forever.
...?
Sorry, I should get going.
Thanks for talking with me.
Huh? All right, take care on your way.
Freesia lingers in front of the door, caught between leaving and staying.
She hesitates again and again, unsure if she should go back.
At last, she turns to leave,
but then, a soft cough drifts from inside.
Frozen for a moment, she finds herself reaching for the door, stepping inside as if drawn by some invisible force.
The house she remembered was always bright, always clean, always warm, always welcoming her like an old friend...
...
But now, the house is dark.
The smell of alcohol hangs heavy in the air.
Cold bites through the rooms.
Freesia turns on the light.
Countless empty bottles are scattered across the floor.
Oswald slumps on the sofa, staring at Freesia with a vacant, hollow look, as if his mind has drifted far away.
...
Mister.
Freesia,
you're back. You've been through a lot.
Oswald wobbles to his feet,
swaying slightly as he passes Freesia and stops in front of the kitchen.
Hold on, I'll make you something.
Oswald rummages through the fridge, but finds nothing.
*Cough, cough*
Hmm, this is quite the predicament...
Mister.
It's fine, I'll figure something out.
Oswald searches the cupboard, but it's completely empty.
Mister.
Go ahead and watch some TV. I'll have something ready in a minute.
Dad.
...
Look at me.
...
Please.
Oswald turns around.
Freesia looks at him for a long moment,
then reaches up and gently strokes his cheek.
Why does your face... look like this...?
...
Have you been eating properly?
Yes.
All good health-wise?
Yes.
Why's the house such a mess? It used to be spotless.
And you never drank before. Why are you drinking so much now?
It's just for today.
That's a lie.
I know you better than anyone.
Why are you living like this? Huh?
...
Because you're not here.
...
Since when...?
Since you left.
...
Freesia hugs Oswald tightly.
Sorry,
I'm back.
Freesia and Oswald sit across from each other.
Water is all they have to drink.
With cups set between them, they finally talk about the things they've avoided for so long.
I abandoned my heroes.
... There were reasons, yes, but nothing that could ever excuse what I did.
I was consumed by guilt... and the thought that I had betrayed them... I didn't even want to be alive.
But you were there.
Just knowing you were there made it impossible to give in.
It was enough to comfort me.
So I kept going. I kept living, as best I could.
Yeah, I know that better than anyone.
That's why I... left... and why things ended up like this...
...
I know you can't forgive me.
I won't make excuses.
Abandoning the Goddess Squad was my fault.
I can't explain why, but I won't deny it.
I just... couldn't bear to see my heroes—everyone's heroes—fall apart.
...
I don't know all the details,
but I'm sure you had your reasons.
Even if I can't say for sure, I know something terrible would've happened if the Goddess Squad had come to the Ark.
They could've been broken, fallen from grace, or even died.
That's why you abandoned them.
You didn't want to see any of that happen to them.
You wanted them to remain as heroes forever.
...
Yeah, I think I get it. Heroes aren't allowed to break. They're supposed to stay untouchable.
But time, people, the world... They tear them down anyway.
In the end, every hero falls.
And when they do...
they take the people who believed in them down with them.
... Something happened, didn't it?
Oh, it did, but it's all right now.
I'm glad I came to see you.
I'll be back in a bit, so don't start cleaning! Let's do it together when I get back.
...
Will you come back?
... Yeah, I will.
I'll always come back.
I can't leave you alone.
... All right, I'll be waiting.
... Okay.
13. PRETTY STAR: 13
156 linesPretty announces her return.
She offers a heartfelt apology for her past recklessness and promises to return to her true self.
She steps away from the spotlight as a pop star, dedicating her days and nights to defending Nikke rights.
The Nikke Rights Committee, once weakened by her erratic actions, quickly regains its influence,
and public support rises once more to the heights of her heyday.
Pretty shines as the Ark's star and stands as its symbol.
She knows better than anyone the ripple effect of her actions across the Ark.
Driven by that awareness, she strives to show only her best self, and her efforts begin to bear fruit almost immediately.
Ugh, so busy!
I'm not even singing, and it's this crazy? How on earth did I even manage all this back then?
Still, things have been going well lately, and I can't help but think back to when you first debuted.
Feels like I've gone back to square one.
... Then we'll start again.
Think you can keep going?
Absolutely.
Come on, let's nail the next one perfectly!
All right, let's go.
Not bad. Sprucing up her image before heading to the Central Government, huh?
Smart move. She's a first-rate celebrity, I'll give her that.
Pretty handled it herself.
She's been wreaking such a mess, I was honestly starting to get worried.
My finest product for the Central Government is rotting right before my eyes.
So, she's still going home?
Yeah, every single day.
...
Tch.
What's the matter? Upset that you can't control everything?
I suppose not even the great Mustang could come between a father and his daughter.
Silence!
... Never mind, results are what matter.
Go all in for the Ark's superstar.
Naturally.
I-I finished recording everything.
You were amazing, Anis! I really think our class is going to win first place.
Oh, stop it...
I honestly think you'd make a great pop star.
I-I really mean it.
... A pop star, huh?
Yeah, i-if you ever become one, I'd want to be your manager.
It'd be so much fun, traveling around, performing everywhere...
Hey,
keep it down, will you?
...
Um... Anis.
Are you really gonna keep acting like this around the class president?
What do you mean?
Sh-she's probably just going to keep picking on you...
Why...?
I dunno. Maybe this is as far as things go.
That's a relief, but...
Are you really okay, Anis?
Hell no, I'm this close to smashing her face in...
Anis stares at her friend standing in front of her.
Hehe...
What about you? How are you holding up?
I'm fine. I-I never really stood out in class, anyway.
Hmm... Thanks, I guess.
Anis gazes absentmindedly into the classroom through the window.
... Hngh, hngh...
The class president nervously chews her fingernails.
... Heh, what's the worst that could happen?
Pretty continues her activities without pause,
steadily building recognition beyond even the heights of her heyday.
And just when her fame within the Ark hits an all-time high...
The venue is Arkrian Hall! We've got a five-hour extravaganza lined up!
It's been a while since my last concert, and I'm super nervous, but I'll give it my all and make it unforgettable!
Pretty announces her comeback concert.
Did you get it?
... Nope, the competition was insane... I couldn't even load the site.
I heard they sold out in, like, three seconds flat.
What about you?
Hehe.
Don't tell me...
Ta-da!
No freaking way!
I-I'm actually pretty good at this, hehe.
I-I only managed to get one ticket, but still...
Hey, don't "only" me. One's a win. I mean, that's huge!
All right, that's one down... So where the heck are we getting the other...?
Um... Apparently, you can't get one now unless you buy from a scalper.
I heard the prices have shot up fifty times...
F-fifty times?! Wait, so how much is that exactly...?
A-a lot. Like... a whole lot.
Whoa, that's insane...
Um... Anis,
you can have this.
Huh? What about you?
It's okay.
I-I think it'd be better if you watch it instead of me.
I-it's not like your goal is just to watch the concert, right?
You want to learn something from it, right?
...
You've been giving it some serious thought, haven't you?
Well... I guess you could say that.
Then it makes sense for you to go, Anis.
She slams the ticket onto the table,
then bolts as if fleeing the scene.
Huh? Wait, hey! Where're you running off to?!
While running, the girl glances back and flashes a grin.
A concert? What on earth is she thinking?
She's already at the top in everything else, so now it's time to do the same as a pop star.
She's working like she's possessed,
and she just... won't give in.
That's what makes Pretty shine.
Fine, let her do as she pleases.
I'm curious to see just how far she'll go.
Are you feeling confident?
Of course,
I'm in tip-top shape.
This is going to be my best concert yet.
All right, I'll be looking forward to it.
Since tomorrow's a big day, get some sleep tonight and don't push yourself too hard.
You worry about the silliest things.
We're here. I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning.
Okay, drive safe.
Will do, see you tomorrow.
Um... Hanson.
Yes?
... No, it's nothing.
I'm heading in. See you tomorrow.
So, it's tomorrow...
Yeah.
I've got a ticket.
What? How'd you manage that?
Asked a former coworker for a favor.
Oh... the guy who couldn't retire because of you?
Has he retired now?
No, not yet.
Haha, seriously?
...
Dad, could you not come tomorrow?
...?
I'd probably get way too nervous if you were there.
It's my comeback concert, and it really means a lot to me. I just don't want to be tense.
I'll send you a video later.
...
All right, I won't.
Phew...
How have things been lately?
Honestly, it couldn't be better.
... Good, I'm glad to hear that.
Yeah, me too.
14. PRETTY STAR: 14
311 linesAnis feels like she's dreaming.
Arkrian Hall is packed to the brim with humans and Nikkes alike.
A massive stage stretches out before her,
and on it, Pretty commands the room with an almost overwhelming presence.
Wow...
Anis is certain of it.
The first concert she's ever seen will be the best of her life.
...
Oswald stares at the worn leather gloves in the display case.
Red Hood's messy signature is barely legible now.
...
... Could this be another connection forged by Red Hood?
I owe her in more ways than one.
The TV hums in the background, broadcasting nonstop coverage of Pretty's comeback concert.
No matter which channel he flips to, it's all the same.
Oswald gazes at the ticket in his hand, lost in thought.
Hmm...
I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be a bad father, just this once.
Oswald straightens his outfit.
*Thud*
Something hard presses against his chest.
... I won't need this.
He pulls out his handgun and sets it inside the drawer.
Ticket in hand, he steps out the front door.
Everyone! Are you having fun?
The audience erupts in cheers.
Phew! I haven't moved this hard in ages! I'm a little out of breath!
Let me just stand here and chat for three minutes, then we'll jump right back in! Sound good?
Another raucous wave of cheers sweeps over the venue.
On stage, Freesia launches into some light banter.
Honed by countless variety shows, her words flow effortlessly, leaving the audience hanging on every line.
... She's incredible.
Spellbound, Anis watches Pretty on stage, hanging on every word.
Then, she notices something off about the three figures ahead of her. Their movements are strange.
The crowd in the stands is shrouded in darkness, making it hard to see clearly. Even so, Anis doesn't take her eyes off them.
They fumble, searching for something.
One pulls a metal rod from their coat.
Another retrieves a heavy-looking chunk of metal.
The last moves with practiced precision, assembling the pieces together.
A flash of light.
The completed object catches a faint glow for a moment, its outline glimmering in the dimness.
... What?
All at once, Anis realizes that what they've assembled is a gun.
!!
Anis charges forward, but the crowd is packed too tightly. She can barely move.
Still, she forces her way through.
Slowly, a path begins to open.
She pushes harder, closing in on the three figures.
Just a little more, and she can stop them.
In that instant, the person in the center jumps up
and raises the gun,
aiming straight at the stage.
Ahhhhh!
A chill runs down Oswald's spine.
A sound you'd never expect to hear at a concert reaches his ears.
It was the sharp clicks and clanks of a gun being assembled.
Oswald lunges toward it, heart hammering.
Up ahead, he spots the three acting suspiciously.
His hand slips into his jacket.
!!
It's empty. He left it at home.
Without thinking, he tears forward.
In that instant, the person in the center jumps up
and raises the gun,
aiming straight at the stage.
... All right, everyone! Next time you see a Nikke, make sure you greet her with a smile, okay?
They're the Goddesses of Victory,
who put their lives on the line for us!
The crowd explodes into cheers.
At the same time,
someone vaults onto a folding chair.
Freesia catches sight of a dark circle aimed at her.
A gun barrel.
Then a flash erupts from its mouth.
You can't be serious...
Oh, but I am. No matter how I look at it, this is the only way.
No hero lasts forever; every star falls, every symbol breaks.
Time, people, the world itself... None of them will just leave you be.
But there's one way to change that.
One way to remain a symbol who never falls from grace, who never breaks.
... Absolutely not. You think I'd entertain that for a second?
Come on, Mrs. Miss, you know exactly what I mean.
I'm going to give it everything I've got, harder than ever before.
I'll push myself so far that even at my peak, no one could compare. I'll become a superstar no one can even touch.
But I'll need your help, more than ever.
I can do this. This time, there's a real finish line.
And when I reach the very top, I'll hold a concert.
Something big will happen. I can feel it.
And on that day, in that place,
I'll shine forever.
...
Why are you telling me this?
Please...
find the next star.
I won't shine forever. Even the brightest light fades with time.
Before mine does, I need you to discover who will shine next.
The Ark's new star.
That's something only you can do, Mrs. Miss.
...
We... no, I've
created a monster.
I never meant to drag you into this.
It just hit me.
You're the first and last teacher I'll ever have.
Ah, a bullet.
That's the thing flying at me, huh?
Back when I was human, I only ever saw a flash. Never the bullet itself.
So that's what a bullet really looks like. Crazy that something so small can kill someone.
It's slow, though. I can dodge it easily.
Maybe I can even catch it.
But a normal Nikke probably can't pull that off.
Oh right, Dad mentioned something about Liliweiss in the hallway the other day...
Maybe I really do have a knack for combat. If I'd become a Nikke sooner, could I have ended up like the Goddesses?
But what if it hits me and I'm fine?
No, no, it's okay. I swapped to a lighter frame and made sure the area around my forehead is fragile.
Let's see... At this angle, it'll hit my neck. Better shift a little.
Yeah, this position's good.
I'm kind of amazing, huh? Dodging bullets and everything.
...
Okay, that's enough. This is it.
No matter how I think about it, this is the only way.
I'd be lying if I said I don't have any lingering feelings.
But I don't regret this.
...
I leave the rest to you... Mrs. Miss.
Hanson... I'm sorry.
And...
... Dad,
I love you.
Thank you for being my dad.
I was really, truly happy.
Goodbye.
Pretty crumples to the floor.
A chorus of shrieks ricochets off the walls.
People shove and scramble for the exits as the venue spirals into chaos.
Meanwhile, Anis charges the Nikkephobes and grabs one around the waist.
Aaaahhh! Aarghhh!
She lets out a raw, desperate scream and refuses to release her grip.
The butt of a gun slams into the back of Anis's neck.
Her body goes limp, and she drops hard to the floor.
The fleeing crowd does not look down
and tramples past her in their panic.
Oswald barrels into the Nikkephobes and grapples with them,
but his alcohol-wrecked body won't respond fast enough.
They shove him aside and slip into the chaos of the escaping crowd.
He struggles back to his feet
and heads for the stage, compelled to see the truth for himself.
...
Freesia.
She lies motionless on the stage.
No...
... Mr... Oswald...
...
No.
Freesia.
Oswald pulls Freesia into his arms.
In that instant, he understands everything she was trying to do.
A storm of grief and pride surges through him.
Even so, he...
Ahhhh... no...
All he can do is let his grief spill out.
Pretty was shot and killed during her comeback concert.
The three suspects are arrested within twenty minutes and identified as extreme Nikkephobes.
They confess that they committed the crime to halt the rising influence of the Nikke Rights Committee, the very organization that had backed Pretty.
After their confession, their whereabouts are never revealed.
The world reels at the truth: a symbol of the Nikkes and the Ark's star has been murdered by Nikkephobes.
Within the Ark, the Nikkephobes become targets of absolute condemnation, and their influence collapses almost overnight.
At the same time, Nikke rights begin to rise sharply.
Enikk enacts new legislation, making the mistreatment of Nikkes a punishable crime.
Thus, Pretty leaves a lasting mark on the Ark,
remaining an idol and a revered figure forever.
Hanson walks through the streets.
Up ahead, a citizen presses an empty can into the hand of a Nikke walking down the street.
The last of its contents already drained.
All of a sudden, someone steps in and knocks the can away.
Hanson keeps moving.
The Nikkes stationed at the public facility stand guard, their uniforms disheveled and their bodies worn and battered.
A group of students lingers nearby, snickering as they hurl scraps of food at them for sport.
The Nikkes don't react. They don't even flinch.
Moments later, the students are detained by the A.C.P.U.
Hanson continues down the street.
In a dark corner of the park, a mass-produced Nikke is getting pummeled, her body swaying with each hit.
It isn't supposed to hurt. The attackers wield nothing but cheap plastic rods and their own hands, hardly enough to cause real damage.
But that Nikke's face twists in pain.
Citizens step forward, confronting the attackers.
Meanwhile, someone supports the Nikke, offering words of comfort.
Hanson keeps walking down the street.
He passes a shop where a Nikke stands awkwardly at the entrance.
The owner refuses to sell to her. She fidgets in place, unsure whether to plead or leave.
In the shop next door, the owner beckons her over.
He passes her the goods and holds both her hands gently but firmly.
Hanson keeps walking.
A little farther on, a drunken man uses a Nikke as a target for his slurred abuse.
Someone steps in to fight on her behalf.
Another is subjected to crude jeers and harassment.
Someone steps forward to help report it.
One stands rigid as someone spits in her face.
Someone throws a punch in response.
And then...
a citizen breaks down in front of another Nikke and shouts,
"It's because you lost that we ended up like this!"
The Nikke lowers her head like a criminal awaiting judgment, simply enduring it without protest.
Hanson steps forward and yells at the screaming citizen,
"It's thanks to these Nikkes putting their lives on the line that we're alive today!"
Hanson finds a quiet spot in the far corner of the park and sits down.
His tears fall.
He weeps over and over, lost in his sorrow.
Freesia...!
... Goddammit,
the plan's fallen apart.
...
You're telling me you had no clue until it blew up?
Explain yourself, Producer.
How would I know?
You damn well should have!
Do you have any idea how much money I poured into this?
And my position! My damn position! What are you going to do about it?
... You really don't care about anyone but yourself.
Spare me the lecture and tell me what you're going to do about this!
I'm done.
I can't do this anymore.
... What?
You heard me, I quit.
Do you... even know what you're saying...?
Did I stutter?
Ah... uh...
And what, you got some other way to make a living?
I've got plenty of money, though it's money I earned while you treated me like dirt.
I will find them, mark my words.
Find who?
And there's nothing you can do to stop me.
Live long, you miserable piece of trash.
Ah... uh...
Hah!
Go on, scram! I don't need anyone,
least of all you...! Hahaha!
*Bzzz*
... Damn it. Can't they leave me alone for five seconds?
*Beep*
Yes, it's me.
I apologize for what happened with Pretty. There were... complications.
... Sorry, what?
Her body?
Well... yes, it's still there. It's been delayed because of the funeral and all that.
Mmm...
Why would you need it?
No, I don't have a use for it, but...
Hmm...
All right, I understand.
I'll take care of it. If that's all you need, there's no reason for me to refuse.
See you then. Yes.
Thank you.
*Beep*
Hmm...
Thanks, Pretty. Even in death, you've got your uses.
Hahahaha...
Now that's... entertainment!
With a soft click,
Oswald returns home and switches on the lights.
He starts preparing a meal.
Two plates are set neatly on the table.
After eating, Oswald settles onto the couch
and plays Freesia's performance.
He keeps watching
until he drifts off to sleep.
He wakes up
to find it's his day off.
The performance plays again.
He remains absorbed,
watching until sleep claims him once more.
For Oswald, time has stopped.
... You're awake.
I see you know who I am.
Yeah, I've seen you on TV a few times.
... I see.
How's Pretty doing?
...
... I'm sorry.
...
... Five people lost their lives at the concert.
Of those, the women whose brains were intact were taken in by Tetra Line and turned into Nikkes.
You're one of them.
...
Your name is Anis, right?
Yeah.
I heard what you did for Pretty at the park.
You have my thanks.
How'd you know about that?
... Because there was a fool who could do nothing but watch from a distance.
Someone who couldn't bring himself to comfort her, to stand against anyone.
??
Sorry, that probably came out kind of strange.
...
Anis,
have you ever thought about becoming a pop star?
...
The Ark needs stars
like Pretty.
PRETTY STAR: END
15. PRETTY STAR: 15
123 linesA long span of time passes, unnoticed but steady.
After her performance, Anis is busy tidying up backstage.
No, I've got this.
Chill, Mint and Prika's got this. It's automated now, remember?
Again? I can't with those two...
Hanson walks over to Mint and Prika.
Hey, pop stars aren't supposed to be doing this! I've got it covered, so go on inside and get some rest, all right?
Anis lets out a chuckle at their interaction.
As she packs up the equipment, her gaze drifts and lands on something in the distance.
A middle-aged man is still in his seat,
his eyes fixed intently on the stage.
Slowly, Anis begins to make her way toward him.
Hello there.
Good evening.
You've been showing up a lot lately. Feels like I keep seeing you everywhere.
Yes, I come whenever I can.
I like it here.
Anis bows her head politely.
Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it.
...
If I remember correctly, you said you liked Pretty.
Oh yeah, I talk about her whenever I get the chance, haha.
Do you want to be like Pretty?
Oh, really? Why's that?
That's because she gave me hope when I had nothing.
I know I can't ever be like her...
But I want to give hope to others, too.
That way, Pretty's memory will live on forever.
...
I see.
Thank you, that means a lot to me.
Oswald gets to his feet, gives Anis a quick nod, and walks away.
And from that moment on, their paths never crossed again.
...
*Beep*
Hello.
I have a favor to ask.
I figured you'd be calling.
What can I help you with?
I'd like to leave a record.
... Of your daughter?
...
No, Freesia will live on as a symbol.
The world won't let her be forgotten.
Then, what kind of...
...
Chief, the Goddess Squad's records have all been completely erased.
Even leaving a single record now would be a serious crime.
I have come to a firm belief:
those who have illuminated the world must not fade, nor be forgotten.
If the world rejects their existence,
I will ensure they are preserved, even if it means leaving them in the farthest corners.
When the world is finally filled with light again,
I want that light to reach them as well.
Please, help me.
...
Got it.
Looks like retirement's off the table... again.
I'm sorry.
More time slips by.
Unable to escape the march of time, Oswald's hair has turned completely white.
He dots the final period on the last page.
Closing the book, he sets a pair of worn leather gloves on top and shuts his eyes.
Leaving a record while evading the watchful eyes of the Central Government is no easy task.
In the end, though, he succeeds.
Oswald feels the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.
Just then, someone taps him on the shoulder.
I'm here.
Ah, you've arrived.
How have you been?
Same as always.
...
I'm sorry, Arthur. I didn't take care of you the way I should have.
What are you saying?
I've always respected you, Dad.
After my biological father fell in the line of duty, you took me in and raised me without ever asking for anything in return.
You gave me the strength to stand tall in a world like this, and for that, I'm truly grateful.
If there's one thing I resent,
it's that my old man never got to retire because of you.
...
I'm joking. My father always respected you,
and so do I.
... I've been training hard
to live up to your expectations.
I didn't quite make it to Deputy Chief, which is a bit of a letdown, but I've made a bit of a name for myself in the Ark, haha.
You've done well.
The Best Seller Squad will be formed, as you desired.
Records that must never be forgotten will be passed down through many generations.
And one day, they will return to the world.
Thank you.
Arthur's gaze lingers on the book in front of Oswald.
Huh, I've never seen this book closed before.
... And you even took out Red Hood's gloves.
...
Did you really finish the whole thing?
Yes, I've just finished it.
That's incredible.
Well, looks like the hard part's all yours from here.
It's all good. If I can't do it, my son will.
Isn't that right,
Burningum?
Grandpa, I think keeping records on paper these days is a waste of resources.
Watch your tone, young man! Don't speak to your grandfather like that.
It's fine. He's not wrong.
...
Have you really finished it?
That's right. Since you said you wouldn't read it until it's finished, I pushed myself a bit.
Come over here and sit down. I'll tell you all about it.
Okay!
Burningum climbs into Oswald's lap.
You troublemaker, really.
I said it was fine,
but still... you should probably lose some weight.
Grandpa, you said it's important to eat well at my age, so I did just that.
... Only problem is, you took it a little too seriously.
Hahaha.
Now then... Where should I begin?
...
Once upon a time, there were those who fought for humanity.
They were called the Goddesses.
Truly, they were beings worthy of being called the Goddesses of Victory.