But he had made a rare miscalculation.
—The one who had defeated him was not the Dragon Sovereign he had deeply suspected, but Sunday, the key figure they needed to approach in the Script.
Elio, an Envoy of the End, had already been set up once...
This matter...
Was truly unsettling.
The group looked at one another. Their eyes seemed laden with heavy thoughts, as grim as the sky before a torrential downpour.
"I think part of the plan must be carried out immediately."
A mechanical voice abruptly tore through the surrounding silence, as eye-catching as the first ray of dawn.
"Although we do not know exactly what Elio saw, one thing is certain—"
"He is desperately trying to avert a disaster."
"The scale of that disaster is at the level of an Aeon. Before a catastrophe of that level, even if we must take certain risks, we should press on."
"If we hesitate for too long, the worldline may return to its original course, and the result... will be terrible."
"It will not be as simple as Elio losing his lychees."
"A war of gods will be on the verge of erupting."
The towering mechanical warrior spoke with unwavering resolve, like an imposing iron tower.
Her gaze swept across her companions' faces as she spoke solemnly.
"Because the outcome might be a war of gods, we should go stop it no matter how dangerous it is?"
"Still, darling, carrying out a mission with an uncertain Script comes with the risk of dying. You need to be prepared."
Kafka's expression was like a still lake, utterly undisturbed.
She looked at the mechanical human, her words carrying an unmistakable undertone.
"...That is the most basic duty of a soldier."
This time, a young girl's voice came from within the mechanical armor.