The storm came quietly.
Not thunder, not rain—but silence. The kind that follows when truth claws through the fabric of a lie. Reo stood at the edge of the workshop balcony, Tokyo's skyline stretching ahead like a slumbering beast, unaware of the battle quietly unfolding in its belly.
Doraemon stood beside him, arms crossed, his face uncharacteristically grim.
"You said you saw something else inside the Mindforge," Doraemon said. "Something older than Caius."
Reo nodded slowly. His eyes didn't leave the skyline. "It wasn't just older. It was… watching me."
He clenched the railing.
"Like it had been waiting for me to find it."
---
Meanwhile, in a forgotten archive beneath the 22nd-century Tokyo Dome
A hidden vault, untouched for decades, slid open with a hiss. Automated dust repellent systems flickered back to life, illuminating cold metal walls carved with digital glyphs.
Doraemon's holographic proxy hovered through the darkness, scanning.
"Project: Archive_09X… restricted even to Time Police. Who sealed this?"
The light landed on a single file labeled:
[GHOST INDEX: NOBITA_VARIANT_001]
A playback log pulsed beneath the title.
> "—Subject shows early signs of deviation. Intelligence spike uncharacteristic. Emotional detachment growing. Recommended: Timeline pruning."
> "—Subject has accessed forbidden gadget synthesis. Gadgets appearing without registry trace."
> "—...possible possession event. Entity unknown. Memory log wiped."
The final line blinked red:
> "PROJECT TERMINATED: TOO DANGEROUS TO EXIST."
Doraemon's avatar flickered in disbelief.
"They tried to erase him. Not because he was weak… but because he wasn't supposed to become him."
---
Back in the Present
At school, whispers followed Reo like smoke.
"Did you hear? Nobita turned down Shizuka again."
"He's acting weird lately. Taller. More… sharp."
"Rumor says he's dating someone older… an actress?!"
Reo didn't care.
He had no interest in school politics. Not anymore.
His desk was a war table. Inside his bag? A miniaturized, untraceable memory-core salvaged from Mindforge—the one holding fragments of Asuka's psychic signature.
He was studying her.
Not out of nostalgia.
Out of necessity.
Whoever Caius sent was no simple ghost.
She was a weapon forged from the ashes of a timeline that had never existed. A paradox in the shape of a girl.
And paradoxes, Reo knew, were just proof the universe was lying to you.
---
Later That Night
Yua sat in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her hair with slow, distracted movements.
She was alone in her apartment—rich, luxurious, but cold. The walls covered in posters of films she starred in. Smiles she no longer remembered faking.
She leaned closer to the mirror.
A flicker—barely a blink.
Her reflection moved on its own.
She gasped, backing away.
But the mirror remained normal.
She exhaled shakily and whispered to herself, "What's happening to me…?"
Then the lights in the apartment dimmed.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message:
> "You're starting to remember, aren't you? –C"
She dropped the phone.
Outside her window, a faint shadow—like a man in a suit with no face—stood briefly, then disappeared into the Tokyo night.
---
Elsewhere
Caius watched from a place that didn't exist.
He walked a garden made of broken clock hands. Beneath his feet, the grass was glass.
A woman in red stood before him.
Not Asuka.
Someone else.
"You've awakened the memory echo in the girl," she said.
"She was part of the first failed reset," Caius replied. "I want to see what remains of her soul when the puzzle completes."
The woman nodded.
"And the boy?"
Caius smiled faintly.
"He's becoming more than he was supposed to be."
His gaze turned distant.
"But the beauty of shaping timelines… is that even gods can bleed, if you aim right."
---
Back in the Present
Reo stood in the middle of the old Nobita's bedroom.
He had stripped it down—removed the comic books, the pointless toys.
In their place were blueprints. War maps. Schematics for a device codenamed:
MOTHERLINE.
A bridge not between minds—but timelines.
He turned to Doraemon. "Once I complete this, I'll have access to the entire memory lattice of Nobita across every reset."
"And what then?" Doraemon asked quietly.
Reo's smile was cold. "Then I find the version of me who lost everything… and I make sure he never has to again."
He picked up the Forgeblade, placing it into a glowing sheath marked with a strange symbol—an hourglass split by lightning.
"Caius started this war."
He stepped into the light of his holographic forge.
"But I'm going to finish it."
---