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"I am justice," the thing says.
They are things, all of them. Even the strongest of them is cockroach shit—not even that, because there is a place for cockroach shit in this world—and the strongest of them knows this better than the rest. Todoroki-senpai keeps her voice low and when told to unsheathe her swords, she thinks only: I am your weapon, Souge-sama.
But Makina is not the strongest, and instead she thinks: You are a lie. She aims her guns between the thing's eyes—at the dirtiest lie that leads to all the others. She pants but feels no heat: only pain and ants crawling where her arm should be, because her Keisei is here.
Keisei-sama, she reminds herself. Keisei-sama.
Damn that stupid boy. While he dresses up pigs and puppies in human clothes, the things take and take and take. Kagami is the rotted brain-meat splattered on the concrete; they are the smoke billowing from the chambers of her guns.
But Makina is not the strongest, and when she sees the picture of the white-haired girl and the man with centipede arms, she gasps as if she still breathes. A flower of blood blooms in her stomach.
I want to kill, says the voice she pretends every moment not to hear. I want to live. I don't want to die.