It’s been less than a day, and yet, so much has happened. Satoru nearly died in battle against Toji Fushiguro, unlocking RCT at the last minute to save himself. Suguru was mortally wounded as well, until Shoko patched him up. Riko Amanai did not survive, and it’s the last thing on Satoru’s mind, even as he carries her dead body through rows upon rows of applauding ignorants at the Time Vessel Association. His whole body is still humming with cursed energy, infinity forming a barrier between him and the rest of the world.

Satoru feels like a god. Really, he is a god. Compared to everyone else here, he’s hopelessly beyond their reach in ways they’d never even have a hope of grasping. The memory of what it felt to grasp Hollow Purple for the first time is still fresh in his mind, lingering. His fingers itch with the brief urge to launch one inside this building. He’d bring he whole thing down on top of him. No one but him would crawl from the wreckage. What would that feel like?

“Hey,” He whispers. “Do you want me to kill them? I don’t think I’d feel anything.”