The first thing Kenjiro registered upon waking was an unnerving silence. The phantom echoes of battle, the screams of the dying, and the soul-crushing grief that had been his constant companions for what felt like an eternity had finally faded, leaving behind only the quiet, gentle rhythm of his own breathing. He lay still for a long moment, the softness of the bed beneath him a stark, almost obscene contrast to the cold, blood-soaked rock of the cursed shore. He was safe. They were safe. It was over.

He slowly pushed himself up, his muscles aching with a familiar, satisfying soreness. The grand, opulent suite was bathed in the soft, gray light of dawn. And standing by the large, ornate window, staring out at the waking city, was a figure silhouetted against the pale morning sky.

It was 03. He was just… standing there, his arms crossed, a silent, brooding statue of impossible beauty. Kenjiro's heart did a stupid, traitorous little flutter. He noticed a faint, shimmering aura around the man, a subtle distortion in the air as if he were a vortex, slowly, almost imperceptibly, drawing in the latent magical energy of the room.

"H-hey," Bombom's voice was a rough, sleep-filled croak. "Stop farming aura around me. You're taking all of mine."

03 turned, his mismatched eyes holding a familiar, weary sadness. There was no mockery, no condescension, only a profound, soul-deep exhaustion that seemed to mirror Kenjiro's own. "I... don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice a quiet, melodic whisper. "I just came to check if everything is okay. It's all my fault... again."

The self-blame in his voice, the sheer weight of the guilt he carried, was a punch to Kenjiro's gut. He remembered the alternate, the broken god born from this same pain. He couldn't let that happen again. "H-hey, don't say that," Bombom said, his own voice surprisingly firm, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "You—I mean us—we did it. We saved you, and he, or me... whatever. We saved that weirdo. It's all that matters."

A small, genuine, and utterly breathtaking smile touched 03's lips. It was a rare, fleeting thing, like a single, perfect star in a dark, empty sky. "I guess you're right," he said. "See you soon." He opened a portal of pure, swirling darkness, the shadows reaching out to embrace him like an old friend. And then, he was gone.

Bombom let out a long, shuddering sigh, the tension he hadn't even realized he was holding releasing in a single, weary rush. "He took all of my aura," he grumbled to the empty room, though there was no real heat in the words.

He swung his legs out of bed, a new, unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He had faced the end of the world and survived. He had stared into the abyss, and the abyss had blinked. He felt… good. He walked out of his suite and descended the grand staircase, the sounds of celebration growing louder with every step.

The moment he entered the main hall, a roar erupted. The entire guild was there, a teeming sea of adventurers, mages, and warriors. They were cheering, they were laughing, they were raising their glasses in a toast to the heroes who had saved their world.

"We did it, Bombom!" "We are heroes of this world!" "All thanks to Bombom!"

He was mobbed, a dozen hands clapping him on the back, ruffling his hair. He felt a hot, furious blush creep up his neck, a familiar, comforting shield against the overwhelming wave of genuine affection. "C-come on, guys..." he stammered, his tsundere defenses kicking into high gear. "W-we all did it."

A familiar, musical voice cut through the din. "Alright, leave some air for him." Ryo appeared, parting the crowd with the easy, charismatic authority of a true leader. The adventurers reluctantly backed away, giving their hero some breathing room. "Ready to continue your adventure?" Ryo asked, his eyes twinkling with a familiar, mischievous light. "Or did you forget about Elara?"

The name was a splash of ice water, a sharp, grounding reminder that even with the cosmic threat averted, his own, personal war was far from over. Bombom's face locked into a mask of grim, serious resolve. "Of course not," he growled. "I will take my revenge." He looked around at the cheering, adoring crowd, at the strange, dysfunctional family he had somehow managed to assemble. "Well," he added with a huff, "I should take revenge on everyone here, too. You're all weird."

Ryo just laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "Of course you wouldn't. We are friends." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Alright, new mission. One of your friends told me you had a mission to stop rockets hitting the sky near the harpies."

Bombom's mind flashed back to the floating golden city, to the magnificent Harpy Queen and her surprisingly reasonable request for fitness advice. "Oh... that," he said, a strange, almost nostalgic fondness washing over him. "I almost forgot. Glad you remembered me."

"It's a B-Rank mission," Ryo explained. "You'll go there, gather more information, and return to us. We can't mess with the company behind the rockets directly. You've also messed with the elites. They are starting to look at us."

Bombom sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Some old fart weirdos that hide themselves. Just say what my team will be this time."

"Well..." Ryo mused, "everyone's tired. So, the day after next, I'll come with a new team. Let your friends rest a bit."

"Whatever it is, I'm in," a familiar, arrogant voice grumbled from behind them. It was DragonSlayer.

A look of pure, unadulterated panic flashed across Bombom's face. "Oh no," he whispered, turning to Ryo with wide, pleading eyes. "Say no. Please say he will not come."

Ryo just laughed. "That's perfect," he declared, clapping a hand on the warrior's shoulder. "You're already in. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Bombom." And with that, the CEO walked away, leaving Kenjiro alone with his most persistent, most annoying, and most infuriatingly loyal rival.

"W-what?" DragonSlayer stammered, his usual arrogance faltering under the sheer, unmitigated venom of Bombom's glare. "You didn't want me to come?"

"Of course not!" Bombom snapped, his voice a high, indignant shriek. "You're a pain in the ass!" He turned his back on the stunned warrior and stormed away.

"H-HEY!" DragonSlayer screamed at his retreating back. "DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME! I CAN STILL STAB YOU!" When Bombom was out of view, the warrior just sighed, a long, weary sound. "Whatever," he muttered to himself, and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Kenjiro, needing to burn off the fresh wave of annoyance, headed for the gym. He expected to find it empty, but a small, familiar figure was in the corner, surrounded by a strange, shimmering aura. It was SynchroNoice. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes closed, his face a mask of intense concentration.

"H-hey, little pink bearded guy," Bombom said, approaching cautiously. "How's it going?"

But there was no response. The small man was completely lost in his own world, his aura pulsing with a quiet, focused power.

"Oh, hey," a cheerful, familiar voice said from beside him. It was Taguro. "Don't mind him. He'll be out for some weeks, or maybe months. He told me he was okay with it."

Bombom looked at his copycat, a confused expression on his face. "So, you're telling me, while he was 'out,' he told you he'll be okay? Okay..."

Taguro just shrugged. "W-what? Don't trust me?" A strange, almost defensive look crossed his face. "He was boring anyway, wasn't he?" he asked, turning his head to look at a random, blank section of the gym wall.

Bombom sighed. "I want to go back and fight the giant eye again," he said, the words a bitter, frustrated whisper.

Taguro's cheerful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of genuine, stark terror. "H-hey, don't say that," he stammered. "He was super scary. But..." A slow, knowing smile returned to his face. "I knew Bombom would win by going back in time."

The words hung in the air, cold and heavy. Kenjiro's blood ran cold. He slowly turned to face his copycat, his red eyes narrowed into two, sharp points of pure, unadulterated suspicion. "I never told you I went back in time to save us," he said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. He crossed his arms. "Explain yourself. Right now."

Taguro started to sweat. His cheerful, confident facade crumbled, replaced by a mask of pure, panicked terror. "Y-yeah," he stammered, his eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape. "A-about that... uh--"

"H-hey, Bombom," a soft, gentle voice interrupted them. It was Lyrielle. She stood in the doorway, a shy, hopeful smile on her face. "I-I hope you're okay..." She blushed a deep, furious crimson and looked away, her long, fiery hair hiding her face.

Taguro seized the opportunity. With a final, panicked glance at Bombom, he bolted from the room.

"Don't think I'll let that slide," Bombom called after his retreating back, his voice a low, cold promise. He turned back to Lyrielle, his harsh expression softening as he looked at her. "I'm all okay," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Still tired, like everyone else, but okay."

"Y-you... sure?" she asked, her emerald eyes full of a genuine, heartfelt concern.

"I mean, that giant eye was inside me and it opened my back," he said with a shrug. "You can take a look." He turned, lifting his shirt to show her his back. It was perfect, smooth, and unblemished, as if the horrific, reality-tearing wound had never existed.

She reached out, her fingers trembling as she gently touched his skin. A hot blush spread across her entire face. She closed her eyes, concentrating, a soft, green light emanating from her hand. "Y-yeah," she whispered, her voice full of a profound relief. "Everything is fine. You are clearly healthy. Your HP is 100%."

Bombom turned back to face her. "My HP?"

"Yeah," she said, her professional healer's instincts momentarily overriding her shyness. "Your health points. I mean... not everyone can see it, but some high-skilled healers can..." She suddenly realized who she was talking to, and the full, overwhelming weight of the situation came crashing back down on her. She blushed an even deeper shade of crimson and began to stutter again, before quickly turning and rushing from the room.

Bombom was left standing there alone, his mind a whirlwind of confusion, suspicion, and a strange, unfamiliar warmth. He sighed and, with nothing else to do, he began his workout. He needed to think. He needed to plan. He had to go back to Merlin, to talk about Taguro, about the Eye, about everything. But that could wait. Right now, another, more pressing matter was on his mind. The giveaway date. He sighed, a slow, contemplative smile spreading across his face. Maybe, just maybe, he should just invite Lyrielle and call it a day.

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