"Anything can be fought. The better question is: can we survive?" There was an answer for that and no one was going to like it. "Not as we are, now. Most of those who fought another entity with the same name on Crystallis had been on that planet for years mastering the Job system. Onion Knight was far more powerful and we could combine different skills after ten jobs were maxed. It's not so here."

What that meant he'd leave for the scientists. He's a weapon and he knows it. "The idea of searching for the other four or locating the summoner is a more survivable option, and against what every fiber of my being wants."

He wants to punch something. Hard. With a darkness-blanketed fist. Not any of them, mind, he'd never hurt an innocent, but he's getting old for a replica. Next thing everyone knew, he'd be shaking a cane or something from his apartment balcony telling young whipper snappers to get off his metaphorical lawn.