Chapter 79: The Blood of Heritage

The underground laboratory, now half-collapsed, trembled with the aftershocks of the explosion that had shattered the north wing. Sparks still leapt from ruptured conduits, and the cracked walls seemed to wheeze like a dying beast. Mayu stepped forward slowly, her breath ragged, the blade in her hand slick with hot, dark blood.

She had survived. Once again. But at what cost?

Around her lay the bodies of two new creatures, fused into grotesque blends of metal and flesh. They had been swift, feral—a perfect merger of advanced military hardware and predatory instinct. Yet she had overcome them, fueled by a cold rage that only grew stronger.

Her path brought her to a half-opened blast door. A faint green light flickered from the security panel, evidence that the system had been breached. She slipped inside, expecting another ambush. Instead… silence.

The chamber was circular, its perimeter littered with shattered stasis tanks and scattered folders. At the center, a still-active console displayed fragmented data:

> Subject 01 – Status: Indeterminate

Subject 13 – Activated

Subject 17 – Failure

Project A.K.I.R.A – Final Phase Pending

Mayu's heart skipped.

She approached the console, fingertips brushing the screen. Her breath caught when an old image flickered into view: a figure strapped to an operating table, face hidden by a respirator mask. The eyes… pale blue, yet achingly familiar.

A memory surged.

She, as a child, running through a white corridor with a boy at her side—laughing, fleeing the white coats. Akira. The name tolled in her mind like a funeral bell.

> "You'll protect me, won't you, Mayu? Even if I change? Even if… I become a monster?"

She fell to her knees.

The puzzle pieces snapped into place. Akira had never vanished; he had been altered. Transformed. Her comrade-in-arms… her heart-brother. Project A.K.I.R.A was not merely an acronym—it was his name.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

She whirled, blade raised. Emerging from the shadows stood a figure clad in black implants, mask removed, eyes gleaming gold.

> "You remember me, Mayu?"

His voice was rough, distorted—but beneath it, she heard an almost imperceptible tremor of tenderness.

> "Akira… it's you?"

He pulled off his mask entirely. His face was scarred, etched by time and modification, yet unmistakably his. His eyes, though now golden, spoke of pain, nostalgia… and rage.

> "You should have let me die," he whispered. "You don't understand what they did to me."

> "I understand all too well," she replied. "They did the same to me. But I fought to stay myself. You can still fight, Akira."

He laughed—a fractured, hopeless sound.

> "Too late. The last lock has been released. I am nothing now but a weapon. And my orders are simple: eliminate you."

Mayu clenched her teeth.

> "Then come."

The clash was brutal. He lunged with superhuman speed, and she barely managed to absorb the blow. Their duel shook the chamber—steel against steel, memory against present. She recognized in his movements the training they had once shared. He anticipated her techniques… as though they still fought side by side. But now, they were enemies.

> "You hesitate," he spat. "You don't want to kill me."

> "And you—don't have to kill me either."

He screamed and unleashed a flurry of vicious strikes. Mayu answered with clinical precision. She could not let him win. Not now—not without bringing him back… or stopping him for good.

As he aimed a blow at her torso, she rolled aside, drove her blade into his shoulder, then vaulted clear. He froze, blood seeping, turning black at the wound.

> "You could have struck my heart," he said softly.

> "I strike for truth, not death."

He dropped to his knees. A spasm wracked his body—then another. He howled… a child's cry, distant and broken. His body trembled; for a single heartbeat, his eyes flickered back to that pale blue.

> "Mayu… save them. All the others… they still suffer…"

Then he collapsed.

Mayu stood motionless, her throat tight, breath unsteady.

He was alive—but for how long?

Footsteps approached—the sound of reinforcements. More clones? The Professor's final squad? It didn't matter. She was no longer alone. She now carried Akira's burden… and that of every other captive.

She straightened, blade in hand, and whispered:

> "I will free you all. I swear it."