Masanori blinked away bleary darkness to stare at the speckled, cosmic sky torn apart by Ootoriko’s sheer will. He remembered what it felt like to be filled with that much hate and despair—a dark cloud had surrounded him to the point that he’d been ready to tear apart the cosmos to kill the Dragon Goddess.
Now… he understood that no goal, no pain of the past, was worth tearing himself apart from the inside out to accomplish it. What a fool he’d felt like, holding onto that much rage, when he discovered that Shirashi, the Dragon Goddess, was already dead.
Even if he hadn’t been surprised. What wretched goddess would survive insurgency?
In any case, Shirashi had never been worth the anguish Masanori had gone through every day to carry that grudge on a pedestal.
The whoosh of Ootoriko’s
