(V2) Chapter 10: The Rebels

The night loomed cold, and the moon shone down on the sleeping city with its gentle light.

Haru slowly opened his apartment door, his heart still pounding on his chest. He tucked his keys in his pocket.

At the distance, Ayase’s figure marched slowly, scanning the area in each step. He waited until she disappeared in the shadows before moving on his own.

Haru gritted his teeth as he followed Ayase through the dimly lit streets, his hands clenched in his jacket pockets.

His heart was pounding, but not from exertion.

From doubt.

He had thought he knew Ayase. The girl he saved from cruelty. The girl who turned his life around.

The girl who laughed softly when he jolted at the loud pops of fried fishes. The girl who scolded him gently when he skipped meals. The girl who stood by him, unwavering, chose him despite harsh consequences.

And yet—

Every moment replayed in his mind like a distorted film reel. The way she talked about something that will separate them, the way she stared into space. The subtle hesitations. The first time lies surfaced from her expression.

And now, this.

She moved with purpose, weaving through the city like a shadow, oblivious to the fact that he was following. Or maybe she knew. Maybe she was leading him here on purpose.

Haru swallowed hard.

No. That’s not it. It can’t be.

Then—she stopped.

Haru pressed himself against the cold wall of a half-finished building, his breath shallow.

The construction site loomed before them, skeletal beams stretching toward the sky like grasping fingers. Exposed concrete and unfinished floors created a labyrinth of empty spaces, a fitting stage for whatever the hell was about to unfold.

Ayase took a step forward, her shadow stretching against the moonlit floor. Waiting.

And then—she spoke.

“Allain-san.”

Haru’s breath hitched. The name was unfamiliar. But the way she said it—soft, hesitant, weighted—made his stomach coil.

A shadow moved. From the top floors, moving down with movements more than practiced.

Then it leaped from the second story, landing effortlessly in front of Ayase.

No human would have survived that drop.

A hooded figure. Familiarity dawned on him, it was the same figure he saw in the mall observing them carefully.

At first, Haru thought it was another nameless thug. Some back-alley lowlife, draped in a loose hood, face obscured by darkness. But then the hood fell back—

And what he saw made his blood run cold.

Sky-blue hair, unnaturally smooth. Features sharp yet youthful, unmarred by time or hardship. And then—his eyes.

One was normal. The other?

Glowing in unnatural blue.

Cold.

Calculating.

Haru knew it. An eye from a DART. Of the countless times he faced them, he couldn't be wrong.

Haru’s nails dug into his palm. That wasn’t human.

Sentinel.

And why was Ayase wanting to meet with Sentinels? In the dead of the night—far away from people?

The boy studied Ayase, his expression unreadable. And Ayase remained unfazed, like she belonged here.

Something in Haru’s chest twisted, a slow, suffocating realization crawling up his spine.

She wasn’t lost. She wasn’t being forced into this.

She came here willingly.

"You came," he said. Allain’s voice was smooth, but there was something in it—a weight, a calculation.

Ayase’s shoulders tensed. "I had to."

Allain’s lips twitched. "Did you, now?"

She exhaled sharply. "I won’t stall. You wanted me here, so please say it."

Allain tilted his head, almost amused. "So impatient. That’s new."

He stepped away, sinking on a crate on top of concrete rubble.

Ayase didn’t move, though Haru noticed the way her fingers clenched at her sides.

"Tell me," Allain murmured. "How is life under human rule? Pleasant?"

Ayase’s jaw tightened. "Ishida-san is not like that."

Allain scoffed, getting to his feet and closing the distance between them with slow and deliberate strides.

“Defensive? Do you think that closes our case?”

He circled her now, studying her like a puzzle with missing pieces. "I assume that means you haven't completed the mission."

Ayase didn’t answer.

His smirk grew. "Silence speaks louder than words, Ayase."

Ayase inhaled, steadying herself. "I won’t do it, Allain-san."

His eyes darkened. "Won’t?"

"I can’t." Her voice wavered. "Haru-san is—he’s not what we thought. He saved me. He gave me a life. A real one."

Allain stopped. The amusement drained from his face.

"A real one," he echoed, as if testing the words on his tongue. “If it weren’t for us, you’ll still be caged in that laboratory.”

Ayase met his gaze. "I won’t kill him."

Laboratory? Mission? Being killed? Every word kept hitting Haru, his throat tightening every second.

Each sentence shattered something inside him, piece by piece.

Ayase. The girl who lived with him. The girl he let into his home, his life—

Was sent to kill him?

The silence between them thickened, stretching like a chasm.

Then, Allain sighed, shaking his head. "I should’ve expected this. After all, it’s happened before."

Ayase swallowed.

"You’re not the first," he continued, his tone turning sharper. "It always starts the same way—obedience turning into hesitation. Hesitation turned into sympathy. Then, suddenly, you start believing that a single human’s kindness changes anything."

She flinched but stood firm.

Allain’s voice dropped to something almost gentle. "Let me remind you, Ayase."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small device. With a press of a button—

A projection flickered to life.

Haruki’s breath caught as the image unfolded in front of them. Security footage. Old, grainy—yet painfully clear.

The scene was familiar. In a lavish estate framed by white metal fences and towering gates, there was a motionless Sentinel with a face devoid of emotions.

Her arms ticked, as if being charged up by short circuits. Her pupils were covered in overflowing black liquid, a rotting Sentinel gel that was used for fluid data relay.

She's a drifter, a Sentinel that went berserk.

Haru knew this. The old man from the alley and his murder clip.

Then, the camera caught movement. A well dressed and comfortable human man. He was speaking to her, his back turned, unaware.

A second later, the Drifter Sentinel moved.

Fast.

A knife materialized in her grip—and she slit his throat in one clean motion.

The man crumpled. The projection froze on the image of his body sprawled on the pavement, blood pooling at his feet.

"She was like you, an AURA model." His voice was quiet, almost nostalgic. "She loved him and he loved her back. But in the end, when it was time to choose—" He tilted his head. "He didn’t hesitate. He tried to shut her down. She’s a Sentinel, and of course she cannot bear children, cannot embrace emotions fully, cannot live long. They are half of what real humans can do.”

Ayase’s breath hitched.

"Did you think you were different?" Allain took a step closer. "That he was different?"

Ayase shook her head, her hands trembling. "Haru-san would never—"

"Wouldn’t he?" Allain whispered. “You will not be chosen.”

Ayase bit her lip, her silence betraying her.

"You don’t see it yet," Allain murmured. "But you will. One day, when your presence becomes an inconvenience, when your purpose runs out—he’ll cast you aside."

She clenched her fists. "No."

Allain’s expression turned cold. "Then prove it."

She stiffened.

"You say you love him? That you’d rather betray your own kind for one human?" His one glowing eye narrowed. "Then show me."

A slow, sickening smile crept onto his lips. In his hands were two weapons, a knife and an emotion inhibitor.

"Kill him, or kill yourself."

Ayase paled. "What—"

"You heard me." His tone was deathly calm. "Prove that your love is real. Take control. Make him yours."

Haru barely registered the conversation that followed—his own thoughts roaring too loudly in his skull.

Ayase. The girl who lived with him. The girl he let into his home, his life—

She was never human.

Everything suddenly clicked into place—her unwavering efficiency, the unnatural grace, the small unfamiliarities in human language he had ignored because he never wanted to question them.

How could he?

He had wanted to believe she was just…different. A little strange. A girl with gifted talents or unusual abilities. But still human.

He had wanted to believe in her.

But that belief crumbled beneath the weight of cold reality.

She wasn’t just a machine.

She was a machine who had been sent to kill him.

Haruki’s breaths turned shallow, his mind a chaotic storm. A part of him wanted to storm in—confront her, shake her, demand why the hell she was lying to him this whole time.

Another part of him?

Wanted to run.

But then,

“I won't do it, Allain-san.” She staggered back.

The way she said it—she meant it. Ayase had a promise to keep. To choose Haru over anything.

He gave him a life, a second chance and a choice to make a choice. And she's willing to trade whatever she have in order to save him.

Allain sighed, shaking his head. "Disappointing. Our lifespan is our only constant in this war of change. You seem to trade that for your own desires."

Ayase steeled herself, “I know. But I chose this path not because I am selfish, but because I can prove to all of us Sentinels that not all humans treat us as their own tools.”

Allain froze, and then broke down in a condescending laughter.

His facade of calculation cracked, a tinge of frustration carved in his face.

“Ridiculous! You don't seem to remember how many of our brothers and sisters suffered because of their ‘experiments’. They gave us emotional intelligence, but they don't seem to be responsible for it, no?”

“I'll prove it to you.” Ayase protests. “Just give me more time.”

“Time isn't our luxury. If you can't kill him right now, then we will. And we won't let traitors like you stand in the way.”

Then—his hand moved. The knife rolled off the ground, and he gripped on the emotion inhibitor.

“No memories, no problem.” he declared coldly.

Ayase stepped back, but Allain was faster, grabbing her arm and the emotion inhibitor started to glow in activation.

For the first time since that rainy night, Ayase’s face begged for a savior.

Despairing.

Time folded in half.

Her desperate eyes managed to lock with Haru across the distance.

And Haru felt it.

Something snapping inside him.

He didn’t process it. He didn’t hesitate. He sprung from his position, just right on time to kick the inhibitor clean out of Allain’s hand.

Pain shot through his legs, as if he had struck steel—because he had.

Right, he was a Sentinel after all.

The inhibitor skidded through the cement-coated floor, and Haru stomped on it, shattering beneath his heel.

His fists carried scars of the last battles, but he's more than ready to wield them again.

The moment Allain’s eyes flickered to him, Haru saw something shift—surprise, then amusement.

"Aha," Allain murmured, a slow smirk curling his lips. "The other lovebird finally shows himself."

Ayase spun around, eyes wide in horror. "H-Haru-san—"

But he wasn’t looking at her.

His focus was locked onto Allain.

“Keen on taking Ayase back?” Haru asked coldly. “Go through me first.”

Allain let out a small chuckle. "Fascinating."

He pulled back his sleeve, revealing bare arms that seemed unremarkable. But Haru knew better.

Sentinel limbs weren't for show.

Then—Allain moved. A blur left and right, his movements unpredictable.

Haru braced.

Allain faked a kick, Haru didn't fall for it. Instead, he met the charge head on, kneeing Allain straight in the chin.

A normal person would've collapsed.

Allain merely stumbled, blinking once…twice and grinned.

“Interesting. Your attacks packs a punch but…” he wiped his chin, unaffected. “Sorry to say, we don't feel pain.

“Good,” Haru grimaced. “That makes it more fun.”

Silence stretched between them, a waiting game.

“Close your eyes, Ayase.” Haru glanced over his shoulder.

Ayase’s body was trembling at the sight of violence, and tears ran down as she shut her eyes.

This time, Haru closed in the space between them.

He grabbed Allain's collar, but Allain twisted, spun and extended his legs for a kick.

Haru reacted on time to intercept, but the impact was immense.

He's doing damage even though Haru is effective at blocking each of his attacks.

Haru threw a swing, and Allain ducked beneath it, but what he didn't know was Haru already extended his other hand, swiftly grabbing Allain's neck and throwing him to the ground.

Allain stood up quickly, irritation surfacing on his face.

The fight was just beginning—

Until—

A sharp whistle.

Everyone froze.

Even Ayase, who had squeezed her eyes shut, flinched as the sound cut through the air.

Haru looked at the direction, and more figures seemed to be observing from the shadows.

One, two, three and four. Four of them are still watching from a distance.

One stepped forward, a woman.

Blonde hair. Violet eyes. A lit cigarette dangling between her two fingers. Smoke curled from her lips as she smirked.

“Time’s up, Allain. Already past due.”

Her voice was smooth, bored. Like she had seen this play out a hundred times before.

All of them seem not to have extraordinary features in particular, but it's another Sentinel.

All of them are Sentinels.

Allain exhaled sharply, “I'm not done yet, Ichika.”

“This is over.” Ichika cuts in. “Emotions are already surfacing, or do you want to perish quicker?”

Allain’s glowing eye pulsed. Then—he scoffed.

"You’re both fools," he mused. "But I suppose that’s what makes you human.”

His gaze flickered to Ayase, unreadable.

“See you later, Ayase."

“Bye bye, Pinky.” Ichika followed up. “Please don't try smoking, it's bad for the lungs.”

Then just like that, he turned away, regrouping with the figures in the shadows.

Their presence vanished like they were never there.

Haru’s breathing finally softened, but his fists were still trembling.

The weight of everything that happened—what he learned, came crashing down.

His gaze slowly shifted to Ayase, who was on the verge of tearing up, and he turned around—walking away wordlessly.

Ayase stood there, frozen, eyes glistening with something full of guilt and humiliation.

And for the first time, Haru realized—he wasn't sure which side she truly stood on.