"But... we can't just say he's a good person, right?
From his actions, I really don't see it."
Theresa spoke hesitantly.
She felt that perhaps her earlier thoughts were overthinking things—there was no need to consider someone like him so deeply.
"No, I never said he was a good person," Kallen replied with a slight nod.
"Whatever the reason, doing such things is still wrong.
But people are complicated—splitting everything into 'good' and 'bad' is too simplistic…"
When it came to this topic, no one understood better than her—especially when thinking of Otto.
And in the Ferryman, she faintly saw that same shadow.
It wasn't just cruelty or the ruthless methods…
It was that they both carried out evil in the name of firm belief.
People without belief—that's what was truly terrifying.
Take Delta or Kasumi, for example.
They weren't "stubborn"… or rather, they had stopped being stubborn long ago.
There are many kinds of persistence—some good, some bad—
but only those who persist can create impossible miracles.
Like the Captain's gentle, unwavering resolve:
his belief that he could save everyone, and lead them all to the perfect ending.
-----
At the very end, on the pier, they finally faced their last enemy—the Ferryman.
He wore a gray robe, face wrapped tightly in cloth.
He sat slumped on the weathered dock, voice emotionless and distant, tinged with disappointment.
"Too slow. You wasted far more time than I anticipated."
"You clearly could have walked straight here—yet you split into three groups and marched around like little soldiers in a drill. Circling around inside a fixed route… amusing."
"You even wanted to save your enemies.
Honestly, you're beyond saving at this point."
He didn't make a move—maybe the Captain's group had missed their chance.
Or maybe… the Ferryman simply didn't care.
To him, this was just a show to watch unfold.
Still, the three who rushed forward saw that things hadn't yet reached their worst.
They let out a breath of relief.
The Captain stepped forward, locked eyes with the Ferryman, and said steadily:
"You and I… are not the same."
"I don't care about Delta or Miss Ninja's identities. I just believe in helping every life, equally."
"I respect my opponents. Even when we meet on a narrow path as enemies—
I believe in winning fair and square, not through ambush or tricks."
‐Clap, clap.
A slow, sarcastic applause broke the silence.
The Ferryman looked at him deeply and said:
"What a grand, noble excuse. Tell me then… what exactly are you here for?"
"To steal the Ether Anchor? How disappointing. I don't think you've even grasped its true power."
"To save people from those collapsed worlds?
Absurd. Just the few of you—what can you even accomplish?"
The Captain responded calmly:
"Even if we fail… we'll still try. Besides, you and I aren't the same—
so how can you be so sure I won't succeed?"
"...Because I've already tried."
The Ferryman's voice was flat and calm.
He wasn't making an argument—he was stating a fact.
Yet those words made the Captain suddenly feel a strange illusion—
as if this man before him saw straight through him.
As he Knew everything about him.
"..."
The Captain, for a moment, really wanted to argue back.
What they had each gone through was fundamentally different—
their persistence, their ideals, simply weren't the same.
But he stopped, halted by some unclear, unspoken feeling inside.
"Do you see that box by your right hand? Yes, open it."
"Right now, a colorless, invisible poison gas is being released—and in your hand is a button.
Press it, and the gate at the pier will open.
The gas will flood the passage, and your friends will die."
"But if you don't press it, the poison gas will fill this pier. We'll die here very soon."
"So now… choose. The fate of everyone lies in your hand."
If he presses the button, the Ship Bridge opens.
If he doesn't, a small group of people will be sacrificed.
Two choices stood before him.
But no matter which one he picked, it didn't feel like the right answer.
It was like the infamous trolley problem—
right from the start, you're forced to choose.
But some things… just shouldn't be given up.
This was fundamentally a dilemma.
Luo Mo just shrugged, not saying anything about this setup he had created for himself.
He simply chose the lesser-picked option.
----
Elsewhere, in the Golden Courtyard, Elysia furrowed her brows as she faced the same decision.
In the end, she too, reluctantly chose the same answer.
Choosing doesn't mean agreeing—
it simply meant that there was no third option.
Yet seeing this forced others to reflect:
Had they, at some point in the past, also subconsciously accepted the idea
of sacrificing a few to save the many?
----
"Ah… So in the end, what makes you any different from me?"
You toss the button aside.
"A pointless question. The poison gas? It never existed to begin with."
"Not bad. You've finally started to think."
"I get it now. The reason you gave the Ether Anchor to Luna... You used her—let her build ties with those Theresas. Even if it meant burning her life away in the end—it didn't matter to you…"
"Because in your eyes, they're just useful tools."
"It seems you've figured out my entire plan. Very good."
"Also, I should thank you all—for pulling all those Theresas out from the cracks between fractured worlds."
"That way, when I ignite the Ether Anchor,
those Theresas will serve perfectly… as kindling."
"You bastard! Are you joking right now?!"
"Hard to accept? Understandable. But once you go through enough… you'll get used to it."
"If I succeed, then Miss Luna and those Theresa girls—will be the final sacrifices."
"But once they're bound to me,
I'll use the Ether Anchor to reboot the order of each collapsed world. Even if they're still drifting within the Sea of Quanta, there'll be no need to worry about the fate of collapse."
"Isn't this the result you were hoping for? This way, you no longer have to 'find a place for those who've lost their world to return to.'"
"...."
"I used to be like you. I wouldn't let go. I wanted to save everyone."
"I tried every method imaginable. Every single one… ended in failure."
"And eventually, I understood. A perfect ending… doesn't exist."
"If sacrificing a few can create hope for the many— then why not try? I'll end all these doomed futures. And I'm the only one who can do it."
The Ferryman spoke to everyone present.
His words were filled with flawed logic and contradictions, yet there was also a twisted consistency.
Still, his eyes never left the Captain— as if trying to examine something deep inside him.
Irene said nothing.
But her smile now carried a hint of sorrow.
"But how is this 'salvation'?" she said quietly.
"This is just you making excuses to justify your plan."
"All this talk of 'sacrificing the few for the many'…
People's lives aren't weights to throw on a scale!"
"You have no right to decide who lives or dies!"
"...So naïve. One person can only do so much."
"If you want to save more, you have to abandon a few."
"For example… starting with abandoning you."
The Ferryman smiled.
A blade materialized from thin air—and hovered at the Captain's throat.
In the next instant—a bolt of lightning flashed, slicing the blade cleanly in half.
Right on time.
"Heh—looks like I made it just in time!"
The drone drew a joyful arc in the air.
Charging ahead were Bronie and Sirin, followed by Himeko, Kallen, Delta, and Kasumj.
All of them stood together—facing him, opposite him.
Everyone was in place.
Aside from him alone, all were now his enemies.
"So… this is your choice?"
"Fine, fine. Saves me the trouble of dealing with each of you individually."
The Ferryman let out a wry laugh, then pulled out an Ether Anchor from under his black robe.
A dim, eerie flame burned silently atop it—
carrying a certain complex, mysterious aura.
"Now then… allow me to show you—"
"My Perfection."
His voice was calm, yet rang out powerfully,
echoing through the warship.
"To save everyone… You must be prepared to lose everyone."
That's what he said.
The battlefield changed—
and a digital, fabricated enemy appeared.
A Reversed, Incomplete Clockwork Construct—
it wielded a giant sword assembled from gears.
Its body was marked with symbols of time: clock hands, dials, and mechanisms.
Empowered by the Ether Anchor's flame,
it was overwhelmingly strong—beyond imagination.
"Farewell… Hyperion's Captain."
There was no doubt:
Even if they all gave it everything they had, they still could not match his power now.
Their desire to save everyone—
was destined to fail.
This ending had been sealed long ago.
Against the Ferryman, now armed with absolute power—getting this far was already an achievement.
But...
If only the plan could proceed as intended.
It was true.
From the very beginning, even before arriving here, they knew they stood no chance in a frontal battle.
The Ferryman, infused with countless Ether Anchors, was invincible in direct combat.
So the target of their plan… was never him.
Their eyes had always been set on that narrow crack between worlds.
Since their strength meant nothing in a head-on clash, it was better to look further—
Focus on the spatial zone he needed to complete his ritual.
During the burning, they could never win face-to-face— but that very moment might become the best chance to reach the narrow gap.
And then, from him—
From the Hyperion's Captain—
bring Luna back.
In this way, not only could they destroy the Ferryman's plan, but they would also truly save everyone.
As for the rest—
they would stall the Ferryman.
Using the time differential between overlapping spatial zones, along with Sirin and Irene's reverse-structured magic—Maybe… just maybe…
they could make it in time.