Kujou Sara bowed before leaving, leaving me alone on the training field.

I sat down on a nearby bench, watching the troops practice—disciplined movements, precise but soulless, following orders without question. My mind couldn’t stop thinking about everything I had learned so far. Ei’s idea of “eternity” felt so cold, so distant from what I imagined ruling a nation should be like.

“But I still don’t understand… why do you take people’s ambitions away?”

I asked mentally, trying to make Ei see what I was seeing. A kingdom filled with fear and control, not prosperity and freedom.

For a moment, there was silence in my mind. Then Ei replied, her voice sharp and emotionless.

“In eternity, there is no place for change. Ambitions and exceptions are enemies of eternity.”

Her tone showed no doubt, no crack in her conviction. That firmness frustrated me. How could someone justify something so cruel with such indifference?

“And what if that’s true?”

I replied, trying not to lose my calm.

“They’re your people, your nation… and all you’re doing is taking away a part of who they are.”

It felt not only like an injustice, but like a betrayal of her own people. She was suffocating the aspirations of those who trusted her to guide their future.

“You would never understand. A mortal being could never comprehend the essence of eternity.”

Ei sounded as unbreakable as ever, her tone icy, as if my opinion meant nothing. But I couldn’t just leave it there. I had to keep going.

“This isn’t eternity. It’s selfishness.”

My inner voice was firmer than I expected, and I felt the weight of my words. For the first time, Ei fell silent, and a flicker of doubt began to appear in the emptiness she left behind.

“It is not,” she finally replied, her voice becoming more neutral, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as me.

“I do what is best for my people and for eternity.”

“No, you don’t.”

This time, there was no hesitation in my words.

“You do what’s best for yourself… Eternity isn’t remaining static. Look around you—Is Inazuma the same as it was years ago?”

My voice softened. I didn’t want to sound defiant, but I needed her to reflect.

For a long moment, there was only silence in my mind. Then Ei spoke again, this time with a faint emotion in her voice—one I had never heard before.

“No… it isn’t.”

That small acknowledgment gave me hope. I sighed and softened my tone.

“If the nation of eternity prospers, that’s fine. But eternity isn’t stagnation.”

Another pause, but this time it was different. I could feel Ei processing my words, her rigidity beginning to loosen.

“I… maybe… maybe I was wrong.”

Her voice sounded thoughtful, as if that idea had never crossed her mind before.

I sighed, relieved by her openness.

“Yes, you were… Inazuma is at war with itself… because of your selfishness.”

I was direct. There was no need to dance around it anymore. This was a decisive moment, and I knew I had to seize it.

“Yes…”
Ei admitted, her voice now much softer, almost a whisper.

“I have to fix all of this.”

That confession took me by surprise, but before I could respond, I felt something strange. My body began to freeze, as if I no longer had control over it. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I could only feel and observe.

“I’ll borrow the marionette’s body for now,”

Ei said—but this time not in my mind, but through my mouth. It was her voice speaking, not mine. I was trapped, turned into a spectator within this body, while Ei took the reins.

I couldn’t do anything. I could only watch as Ei, using this body, stood up from the bench and began to walk.