Chapter 9: Threads Beneath the Surface

Natsumi Kanzaki did not believe in grand conspiracies.

At least, not at first.

What she felt was something simpler, quieter, and far more dangerous—
a faint unease, like a loose thread on a perfectly woven fabric.
A sense that something meant to be hidden… was a little too clean, too polished, too intentional.

SOA’s speech played again in her mind.
Alexia Valenroth’s expression—furious yet perfectly controlled—followed right after.

Everything aligned in a way that felt wrong.

That night, Natsumi opened her private terminal.

Not to uncover a great truth.
Just to settle her thoughts.

Then a notification appeared.

Cat-Eye:
“You’re not wrong to feel uneasy.”

Natsumi froze.

Cat-Eye was not a journalist, not a whistleblower, not a government agent.

Just a username.
Someone who lived in the cracks of the system, piecing together everything the country tried to throw away.

Natsumi typed:

Natsumi:
“What do you mean?”

A reply came instantly, along with an encrypted link.

Cat-Eye:
“Start with the monster experiments.”

Natsumi hesitated only once—
then she opened it.

The screen filled with grainy footage.

No dramatic music.
No narration.
Just cold timestamps, sterile notes, and a chilling phrase:

“Biological Adaptation Study: Integration of Non-Human DNA into Human Subjects.”

Natsumi exhaled slowly.

Not weapons.
Not cures.
Not containment.

Integration.

The next clip showed unstable bodies, uncontrolled transformations, subjects losing awareness—monsters created not by nature, but by design.

Then one folder caught her eye.

SUBJECT-89

When she opened it, her breath caught.

A man stood in front of the camera.
Middle-aged.
Exhausted.
Eyes hollow yet determined.

“My name is Hondo Noburu.”
“If you're watching this… it means my time is running out.”

Natsumi leaned closer.

He inhaled shakily.

“My son is dying. No diagnosis. No cure. His body rejects every vaccine we attempt.”

The footage shifted to medical charts.
A small boy lay on a hospital bed.
His face pale, tubes lining his arms.

In the corner of the screen, his name flickered:

Saiga Noburu

Natsumi’s hands tightened.

Hondo continued:

“I am not searching for a weapon. I am searching for a way for my child to live.”

The next clip froze Natsumi’s breath in her chest.

Hondo stood before a secure containment chamber.

“This is blood taken from the Alien Orga… defeated by the First Sentai.”

His voice trembled—not with fear, but guilt.

“I understand the consequences. I understand the risk.”
“But if I do nothing… my son dies.”

The video jumped.

Saiga—much younger, weaker—lay unconscious.
Hondo injected the Orga serum into the IV line.

Hours passed.

Vital signs stabilized.
Color returned to Saiga’s cheeks.

Hondo laughed—helpless, relieved, breaking.

“He’s alive… my son is alive…”

For a moment, the footage felt like a miracle.

Until everything fell apart.

Alarms blared through the speakers.
Emergency lights flashed red.

The lab door burst open as armed officers rushed inside.

“Hondo Noburu, you are under arrest for the theft of national biological assets—”

Hondo stepped forward… not with fear, but resignation.

“Then allow me… to protect my son one last time.”

The recording cut—

Then resumed from a security camera.

Gunfire erupted.

Hondo collapsed.

But he did not stay down.

Bones shifted.
Muscles reformed.
Movement became unnaturally fast.

He rose—

No longer human.

A streak of monstrous instinct stormed through the hallway toward the children’s ward.

Cameras shattered one by one.

The footage ended.

Natsumi leaned back, breath shallow.

A message appeared.

Cat-Eye:
“After the incident, the boy was found at his grandmother’s home.”
“No official records. No public memory.”

Natsumi typed slowly.

Natsumi:
“So… Saiga was brought home?”

Cat-Eye:
“Yes. Many believe… his father carried him out before losing control completely.”

Her heart tightened.

She typed the question she feared most:

Natsumi:
“The First Sentai who killed the creature that night… who was it?”

This time, Cat-Eye took longer to reply.

When the message finally appeared, Natsumi’s chest went cold.

Cat-Eye:
“Arakawa.”

Her fingers trembled.

Cat-Eye continued:

“Meaning—Arakawa’s father killed Saiga’s father.”

The room suddenly felt too small.

Two families.
Two tragedies.
One hidden truth.

Red.
Saiga.
A destiny twisted long before either understood.

Natsumi whispered to herself:

“This was never about monsters.”
“This is about what humans do… when they call their actions salvation.”

Outside her window, Tokyo glowed peacefully—
unaware that history had just shifted, inch by inch, without a sound.

A new notification appeared.

Cat-Eye:
“There’s one more thing you need to know.”

Natsumi didn’t respond immediately.

Whatever came next… would not make the truth easier.

Finally, she typed:

Natsumi:
“Is it about Saiga?”

Seconds later, the reply arrived.

Cat-Eye:
“About his life afterward.”
“I have limited data, but if you want to understand who he was before all this…”
“Ask one person.”

A single name appeared on the blank screen.

Yumesaki Chisa

Natsumi frowned.

Natsumi:
“Why her?”

The answer felt colder than all the footage before it.

Cat-Eye:
“Because she knew Saiga before the world started lying to him.”

Natsumi closed her laptop.

For the first time that night, she didn’t open another file.

Instead, she grabbed her coat, stepped into the hallway, and headed toward a quiet corner of the city—
toward a small animal clinic run by a girl who lost Red,
yet still cared for life as if the world hadn’t already broken.

Yumesaki Veterinary Clinic.

Without knowing it, Natsumi’s next step would drag Saiga’s past out of the shadows—
straight into the light.

A light far more dangerous than any darkness he had ever faced.