I want to see Chuuya suffer as a human I wonder which poet first described the blue in the sky as the color of sadness. The Yokohama sky that day was a clear blue full of such sadness. The sounds of cars coming and going, the trains passing by, the hustle and bustle of the city: Everything was sucked into the azure firmament. Master Chuuya was simply sitting under that blue sky, halfway up the tallest building in Yokohama atop a slight protrusion on the structure. There were no handrails or safety ropes, just a few inches of protrusion between him and a drop to the surface far below. It was impossible to observe his expression from the ground. His motionless form was only staring straight at the sky and soaking in the breeze. He had been in the same position for hours. I was looking up at him. He did not answer my calls, nor could he hear me when I shouted his name, so there was no way I could contact him. “The hell is he doing?” asked Shirase, standing by my side. “Perhaps he doesn’t want to speak with anyone right now,” I replied as I looked up. There was surely only one thing on his mind in that moment: The detective was killed because of us. After the incident at the police station, we reexamined the evidence. The blue cell phone Verlaine had requested from the smuggler was the exact same phone that Detective Murase had on him, and when I looked into said phone’s history, there were saved messages and signs of usage that dated back six years. However, the phone’s serial number revealed that it was a brand-new model manufactured just six months ago. The paint on the shell was moderately chipped, which made it look like an older model, but dating that shell revealed that these marks were created recently from fingernail scratches or falling onto the floor. By contrast, I was able to confirm that the phone directory and call history inside the device all belonged to Detective Murase himself, and I learned from other detectives that he had been using said blue phone regularly for years. Put simply, someone must have switched the phone with a fake that was so finely crafted that Detective Murase himself did not even realize it. But for what purpose? I made another interesting discovery. There were traces of some sort of program inside the device that self-deleted after a certain amount of time. Now this is merely my assumption, but perhaps Verlaine wanted to eavesdrop on Detective Murase calling someone else. Therefore, he switched out the phones and waited for the detective to make a call. The program he used to bug the phone had since been automatically deleted, which meant he had already managed to eavesdrop on the call. He had no use for the detective after that and killed him. Detective Murase’s death was preventable. If we had paid more attention to the cell phone the smuggler had procured, or if we had realized how unnatural it was for Verlaine to converse with us as if he were passing the time instead of immediately killing Shirase, then we might have been able to stop the detective’s murder. However, there was no use in allocating memory resources to something that was already over because Verlaine was most likely already approaching his next target. Furthermore, the clue the detective left for us could guide us straight to Verlaine. “Phew… I honestly thought I was a goner back there.” Shirase’s harried expression looked somewhat forced. “Never thought I’d be targeted by a monster like that guy. I guess all future kings go through these kinds of hardships, unlike regular folks. It’s rough out there.” “I see.” He seemed happy, contrary to what he was saying. Yet another reason why human emotional circuits make no sense to me. “By the way, Shirase…,” I began. “Why are you still here?” “What? Why wouldn’t I be here?! That monster’s coming to kill me! And it’s your fault! Both of you! It’s only reasonable to expect you two to protect me, right? And I’m not going anywhere until this is over!” I tried to reason with him. “But you are not Verlaine’s target. It was the detective—” “There’s still two more targets, right? And there’s no guarantee that I’m not next!” It was a far-fetched argument, but an argument nonetheless. There were still two unknown targets. As long as there was a possibility of one being Shirase, then he needed to be stuffed into the trunk of a car and locked away until this was all over… But unfortunately, that was not an option. “Hey, don’t look so worried! It’ll be fine! I was the brains of the Sheep, and you’re gonna have me on your side now, so there’s nothing to worry about! I’ll help you find the next target in no time!” My arithmetic operator indicated it was highly probable Shirase was not the brains of anything but simply was useless in every other regard. I immediately shut down the operation. I did not want to know the truth. All of a sudden, I received notification that a different operation, which I had been running in the background, finished. “Hmm. Intriguing.” I observed the audiovisual data that made its way to my information feed and crossed my arms. “What’s intriguing? What are you looking at?” Shirase leaned forward and tried to follow my gaze, but the information was being displayed over my field of vision for the sake of convenience, so obviously, I was the only one who could see it. “The detective’s call history on his cell phone.” “Hmm? I thought it got deleted.” “It did. But I was able to salvage the history from the base station that relayed the call. I found the following conversation during my search.” I began playing the analyzed data from the speaker in my throat. The audio started with static—typical when restoring encrypted audio—but it slowly began to fade until the speaker’s voice was clear. “It’s me, brother.” It was Detective Murase’s voice. He was talking into the phone, so his breathing was mixed in with the audio. “The gravity manipulator came like you said he would. And there was someone with him! Just who is this guy? What’s his relationship with Chuuya?! Call me back the moment you get this message!” Once the audio cut off, Shirase curiously tilted his head. “What was that all about?” “The time stamp suggests the message took place a short while after Verlaine broke into the police station. He left it on the answering machine while the station was in a panic. I tried phoning the number he called, but it was already disconnected.” “Uh-huh.” Shirase’s expression made it clear that he did not find the information useful. “So you think it’s odd that he called his own brother?” “I do,” I replied. “Because according to the records, the detective’s brother is already dead.” “What?” “I took a peek at Detective Murase’s personnel file in the city police’s internal affairs department,” I explained while opening the necessary information in my feed. “According to the file, his elder brother worked at an army engineering lab as a civilian researcher. However, he died in a lab accident fourteen years ago in April. His real name was redacted and he was simply referred to as N in the reports. There wasn’t even a single picture of him. I looked everywhere.” “N, huh?” Shirase frowned dubiously. “Detective Murase had only one brother according to his family registry. It’s quite curious. Maybe he had someone close to him that he simply called his brother?” “Doubt it,” came a sudden voice from behind. “Whoa?! You scared the crap outta me, Chuuya!” Out of nowhere, Master Chuuya was suddenly standing behind us. Ignoring Shirase’s complaint, he continued, “That detective told me his brother got him the job as a security guard at some military facility a long time ago. Said it was around the end of the war, and that was about nine years ago…which means his brother didn’t die fourteen years ago in April. He’s alive, and the records just say he’s dead.” “You mean…the military falsified the records?” asked Shirase. Master Chuuya nodded. “Yeah. No real other way to explain why there’s no photos of him or records with his real name. He’s dead to the public. A ghost that can’t be found. And that’s the kind of guy the military needed.” “But for what?” I asked. “I mean, it’s pretty easy to guess after all we know by this point, right?” He stared at us, his gaze harsher. “The detective’s brother was probably researching Arahabaki.” The utter shock suspended every one of my processes for 0.02 seconds. N was one of the humans who created Arahabaki…? “Arahabaki was an extremely high-level national secret, right? The kind of secret that other countries sent their spies here to steal. Obviously, the military didn’t want the researchers’ addresses or histories gettin’ out, so they ‘killed’ N and buried all his info,” Master Chuuya explained. “Sounds about right, doesn’t it?” I ran some calculations while replying, “All the researchers supposedly died in the explosion Arahabaki created that destroyed the research facility. Are you saying that this researcher, N, survived?” “Yeah, and he was probably the only survivor, too. That’s why Verlaine’s going after him,” Master Chuuya said. “His real name is unknown, his whereabouts are unknown, and there’s no way to get in touch with him. The only person that knew how to get in touch with him was…” “His younger brother, the detective…” “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. This doesn’t make any sense,” Shirase suddenly commented. I looked back at him. “What do you mean?” “What do I mean? I mean that you guys made so many threats about it that I wouldn’t be able to forget even if I wanted to.” Shirase haughtily placed a hand on his hip. “Verlaine’s gonna kill everyone who’s keeping Chuuya from leaving Japan. That’s what you guys told me! Scared me so bad I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. I mean, I wasn’t scared. But what I’m trying to say is…!” Verlaine’s objective was to take Master Chuuya with him. Shirase was right about that. Which meant… “In other words, N has some sort of information that would make Master Chuuya wish to stay in Japan. That is why Verlaine killed the detective. And N himself is next…” The researcher N was high on Verlaine’s list of priorities for reasons unknown to us. That was certain. Which led to the inevitable question: “What exactly does N know, then?” Master Chuuya shrugged. “Beats me. We’ll just have to locate him first to find out.” “Wait, wait, wait! I am not cool with this! Stop making decisions without me!” complained Shirase. “You’re gonna search for this researcher? The one Verlaine’s obviously looking for, too? No way I’m clashing with that guy again! Take me somewhere safe and protect me, damn it!” Master Chuuya watched Shirase flail his arms about for a full ten seconds before deeply sighing. “What are you lookin’ at me like that for?!” Shirase demanded. “Nothing… If I told ya, it’d just make things worse,” Master Chuuya said before averting his gaze. Shirase opened his mouth as if he was about to complain, so I decided to step in before things went south. “Unfortunately, I believe Shirase has a point as well,” I stated. “Verlaine is already far ahead of us on his search for N. To make matters worse, he is a former spy. He probably already knows where N is. Even if we were to begin searching ourselves and ended up learning where N was hiding, all we would find would be a dead body and Verlaine fully prepared for our arrival. There is an extremely high probability of that happening.” “No, that’s not going to happen,” claimed a sudden voice. It was an unfamiliar voice. One that belonged to an adult male. I turned around, but there was nobody behind me. Bizarre. I looked around in every direction to find the owner of the voice. “Where are you looking? I’m right here.” The voice spoke again; where was it coming from? “Hey, uh…” Shirase was staring at me strangely, as if he had just seen a ghost. That was when I suddenly realized what was going on. I was the one speaking. “You didn’t cover your tracks after accessing the military’s information terminal, so I traced them and found you.” My mouth moved, producing words in an unknown man’s voice. “We both have secrets we need to keep, so I apologize for my rude behavior.” I immediately ran a diagnosis. A third party had hacked into my feed. Disgusting! Fortunately, they hadn’t installed any malware that could alter my system or killware that could cause me to lose control. But it still felt absolutely vile. It was time to cut off the hacker’s connection. “Hold on. Don’t cut the connection just yet.” Master Chuuya raised his hand to stop me as if he knew what I was going to do. He then faced me and asked, “Who are you?” “Someone who needs your help.” My mouth was moving on its own. “And someone who could help you as well. I’m the man you call N.” “So you’re N, huh? How convenient.” Master Chuuya snorted. “But what’s with the sudden call? I figured you’d prefer to stay hidden.” “The tides have changed. I’m sure you all must have realized this, too,” freely continued the unfamiliar voice. I was honestly getting sick of putting up with it. “I’m going to be killed by the greatest assassin in the world at this rate, and the truth will be forever lost to the darkness along with me. I’d die before ever telling you all the truth—whereas, if I told you the truth, there would be no point in killing me anymore.” Right as I was vowing to pull my own tongue out if he talked for ten more seconds, N suddenly made a wonderful announcement. “I can’t say any more here, though. I need you to come meet me. I’ll leave my address in the robot’s feed.” Master Chuuya quickly replied, “Hey, wait. You want us to come see you? What exactly do you know?” “Everything, Chuuya. Everything about you,” the voice claimed in a calm, detached manner. “I can’t wait to see you.” The connection suddenly cut off. I wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but Master Chuuya seemed to feel quite the opposite. I drove up an unpaved mountain path, the car rattling until I stopped near our destination. This countryside location outside of the city was where the man known as N, the rude individual who hacked my mouth, instructed us to go. The evergreen broadleaf trees such as stone oaks formed a natural roof over our heads. It had been raining just before we arrived, so the bumpy ground was drenched in mud. There was no sign of any humans in the area, but my scanner found countless insects staring at us. I picked up a berry from the ground, wiped it off, then consumed it in one bite. It was delicious. “Ew…,” Master Chuuya grumbled in disgust as he watched. Shirase, who was walking slightly behind us, suddenly spoke up. “I don’t think we should do it. This is a bad idea. Let’s just go home. There’s not gonna be anything good here; I guarantee it.” I looked back at him after hearing him say that for what felt like the thousandth time. “My legs are killin’ me. I’m sick of this. I don’t wanna walk anymore. Hey, mechanical English gentleman. Think you could carry me on your back?” Master Chuuya and I exchanged glances. “You’re free to go home, Shirase,” he taunted. “Me? Go home? No way! It’s your job to protect me, y’know! I’m not leavin’ your side no matter what!” Master Chuuya faced forward once more, then scratched his head, an exhausted expression on his face. “Sigh… Somebody call a wahmbulance for this guy, seriously.” “Excuse me? Hey, Chuuya! Do you really think you should be talkin’ to me like that? Do you know who I am? I’m the generous soul who saved your life when you had nowhere to go and no memories of your past,” Shirase boasted with a waggle of his eyebrows. It was hard to describe Master Chuuya’s expression then with only a single word. To be specific, he looked like he wanted to smack Shirase in the head with a hammer, but he didn’t have a hammer on him, and he didn’t want to have to use his bare hands, either. It was a fantastic expression, so I took a picture and saved it in the folder titled FAVORITES in my storage. Master Chuuya sighed. “Fine. You can come with us, so ya think you can be a little quieter?” “See? You can’t beat me in an argument, Chuuya. That’s why I’m the king!” I heard Master Chuuya mutter, “I’m this close to punching him in the face right now,” under his breath. If anything, I was extremely intrigued by how a talented high-level member of a criminal organization decided to speak so softly that the person he was talking about could not hear him. We continued our exchange until we arrived in front of our destination. “This is it.” It was a barn. The wooden building was meant for storing hunting and farming tools in the mountains. It was debatable whether this could be called a building, however. The rotted wooden walls were halfway peeling off the structure, exposing the interior to the elements. Years of rain and wind damage meant hardly any of the thatched roof was left except for the bare framework. The blackened posts supporting the barn were so decayed that they looked like they dated back to the Stone Age. They were full of holes left by insects. Inside the barn was a wheelbarrow missing a wheel, a torn sieve, and ripped bags of fertilizer with their contents scattered about. “What the hell is this place?” Shirase sounded disappointed. “It’s just an abandoned old shack.” “This is the place.” I grabbed a hatchet hanging on the wall. The grip was rotting and bent halfway down. After scanning the barn’s interior, I inserted the hatchet into an opening in the floorboards, then gently pushed it forward until I heard a metallic click. The floor instantly began descending at an angle. “Whoa?!” The floorboards slid downward from the barn’s exterior walls, and the mountainside scenery slowly disappeared into the sky. In its place, black concrete walls with a metal railing came into view. The barn’s floor was an elevator that was taking us underground. The inside was lit up by red guide lights fixed to the walls, their crimson glow rhythmically illuminating our faces. “Nice,” said Shirase. A childlike grin slowly spread across his surprised face. “It’s finally startin’ to feel like an adventure.” Interesting. So this was an adventure. Adventure was a classic theme in film. I’d heard that everyone got a thrill out of adventures. “Yeehaw!” I shouted while jumping into the air and pumping my fist. Perhaps I was gradually becoming more humanlike by the day. Master Chuuya rolled his eyes. After the large motor stopped running, we got off the elevator and found ourselves in a dim corridor. The gray walls were painted with black-and-yellow hazard stripes. We followed the path straight ahead as if it were inviting us into the darkness of the abyss. The courtesy lights on the floor faintly illuminated our faces. I sent a ping signal up ahead and received a response from the facility’s system a few seconds later. There was no doubting it. We were going the right way. After taking a right at the end of the corridor, we advanced even farther into the abyss until we passed through a double fireproof wall and found ourselves in a spacious underground depot. At the back of the tennis court–size area was a colossal fireproof partition wall with a small security station in front of it. All four guards stationed there—two inside, two outside—were armed and looking in our direction. Their eyes were empty. They took nothing about us into consideration, not our facial expressions nor who we were as people. All they saw were three suspicious individuals. “Halt,” the closest guard instructed in a firm, mechanical voice. Master Chuuya stopped in front of the muzzle of the man’s gun. “We have an appointment. Let us through,” he demanded calmly, as if the gun did not even exist. When the guard looked back, another guard faintly nodded to him. “We heard. But this is a top secret facility. We’ll need to examine your belongings and perform a blood test before letting you through.” “A blood test?” Master Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “What for?” “You three don’t even know what kind of facility this is?” The guard sighed with contempt. “How pathetic.” “The hell did you just say, you punk?! Do you even know who I—? Mmm!” “I am sure everyone knows who you are, so I believe keeping silent would be your best option.” I covered Shirase’s mouth before he started a fight. We ended up having our belongings inspected and our blood collected. The guard pressed a box-shaped blood-drawing device against Master Chuuya’s wrist. He said nothing as they took his blood. When I heard the sound of air being released, I knew it was over. His expression still had not changed one bit. Shirase also had blood drawn from his wrist. “Ouch! Whoa! Hey?! That hurts, damn it! Ow! You shoulda said it hurt before you pricked me, you jerk!” He flailed his free arm as if this was the most pain he had ever felt in his life. I was next. The sound of air pressure being released was followed by the needle breaking. “…” The guards and I made eye contact. I didn’t say a word. Nor did the guard who was holding the kit for drawing blood. He used a spare kit on my legs, neck, lower back, and every other place he could stab, but each needle broke. Before long, there was a commotion in front of the station. “Bring me a knife!” “Where was that saw again?!” More guards gradually arrived until the entire security team tried to draw blood from me. All their attempts ended in failure. After exhausting their resources, the guards stared at me and panted heavily, out of breath. I stood there with a blank expression and waited for them to draw my blood. A mysterious silence followed. I extended my neck until the inner joints were visible, then began to bob my head while I walked. “Look. I’m a pigeon.” “Ahhh?!” The guards fell backward. “Quit messin’ with them!” Master Chuuya smacked the back of my head. The guards eventually called headquarters and had me exempted from the blood test. The security guard guided us to the facility’s innermost depths. The interior was surprisingly not worth mentioning. There was nothing more than a white corridor with six doors on each side, none of which were numbered. Turning at the end of that corridor brought us to another corridor with six doors on each side. That was not surprising in the least; this facility was purposely designed this way to make it difficult for intruders to find what they were looking for. The reason why there were many turns was to prevent any gunfire from traveling long distances. In other words, there was something top secret here that they did not want stolen under any circumstances. The security guard typed something into the terminal at the end of the corridor and opened what appeared to be an ordinary wall that led farther into the facility. (My scanner had already discovered there was an area even farther back.) The back room was the research department, which was relatively spacious and full of people. Researchers wearing white lab coats bustled through the corridors. One was debating something with a colleague. Another was rubbing his eyes as if he had just awoken. Yet another researcher was frantically trying to wash a coffee stain out of her lab coat. There was even a man who clearly had not slept for three or so days. Militaries, police forces, and criminal organizations have their own distinct features throughout the world, but researchers are the same wherever you go. Even the ones in Great Britain hardly differed from the people here. They had a very laid-back demeanor no matter what they were studying, which was perhaps due to the fact that most of them lived here in the facility. We took in the sights until the guard behind us urged us to keep moving forward with the tip of his gun. “Don’t stop and don’t look. Anyone interested in the research we’re doing here doesn’t get invited.” “Uh-huh. Neat. You cocky little…,” Shirase began muttering to himself. I carefully collected various data until a few things became clear. This appeared to be a military research division that had been studying special powers since before the war. That much became evident as I analyzed the conversations of the researchers we passed by. I would have loved to gather more detailed information, but this was a secret military facility. All electronic devices were protected from hacking and rejected any external connections. It would most likely take a lot of time and resources to bypass them. However, that information alone was enough for now. After pondering for a few moments, I spoke up. “I was thinking, Master Chuuya…,” I whispered at his side. “The reason why N is Verlaine’s next target… Perhaps he has evidence that you’re human.” “Huh?” Master Chuuya looked back in surprise. “Where’d that come from?” I viewed my data logs while continuing, “We do not know whether you are human or merely an artificial equation. Verlaine claimed you were an equation, but he did not offer any evidence to back up his claim. His word alone is all we have to go on, and that is exactly why he wants to dispose of those who know the truth—the truth that you are human. Because you would not need to go with Verlaine if you knew the truth. That is why Verlaine decided to target N. Everything would make sense if this was the case. Would it not?” “But why would Verlaine even lie?” “Because he could not convince you to come with him otherwise.” I was confident this was the truth. “He needs you for some reason, perhaps because like him, you can manipulate gravity, and you received said powers at a military facility. However, simply telling you to abandon the Mafia and join him would not work.” “So the fact that he’s trying to kill N is proof that I’m human?” “Precisely.” Master Chuuya appeared to be racking his brain over the subject. He faced the wall, scratched his forehead, scratched his nose, and crossed his arms. He then covered his face and hid his expression. I could hear him exhaling in short bursts. And then there was laughter. “Pfft. Ha-ha-ha… You’re such an idiot.” He let out a brief, exasperated chuckle. “So I am human, after all. I feel stupid letting something like this bother me in the first place…” I smiled as well because it felt like this was the first time I had seen him smile in a very long time. “The hell are you lookin’ at?” Master Chuuya glared over his shoulder at me while keeping his face hidden. “What are you grinning about? I’m not happy about the news. I’m indifferent.” “So am I.” As an extraordinary piece of machinery, I am able to lie with a straight face. “Then how do ya explain those eyes?!” “My eyes? I use them to see.” “I’m startin’ to figure you out.” Master Chuuya pouted as he glared at me. “You’re playing dumb on purpose, aren’t ya?” He saw right through me. After turning around and stretching in a forced manner, he began briskly walking ahead. “Anyway, let’s hurry up and get this over with! Looks like we’ve got an easy job to do today!” he shouted to no one in particular. My lips could not help but automatically curl into a smile as I watched Master Chuuya walk with a spring in his step. Our journey brought us before a certain door. After pressing the call button next to it, the guard stated the purpose of his visit. “Come in,” said a voice as the door automatically opened. It was the same voice that took over my vocal mechanism once before. A disgraceful voice. Behind the door was a spacious office. The window in the back was a computer-generated view of the beach, despite the fact that we were underground. The walls were completely hidden behind floor-to-ceiling oak bookcases. Technical books from around the world dutifully lined the shelves. At the back of the room was an antique desk with a man lying sprawled out in front of it underneath a large box. He seemed to have crawled under the box and was doing something, but I could not see his upper body. All I could see were his lower body and the soles of his shoes pointing toward the ceiling. “Sorry. Give me a second, okay?” he requested. “Adjusting the experimental isolation tank is taking a little longer than I thought. This tub was made to induce an altered state of consciousness and raise the output of special powers, but the gauge, the most vital function, is interfering with the tub’s magnesium sulfate solution. So right now I’m trying to exchange the positron decay gamma ray detector with something more precise.” “Why not simply implant an active marker in their blood vessels instead of relying on noninvasive measurements?” I suggested. “I tried that,” came the cheerful reply. “But that presented us with a new problem. The subjects’ skill activity potential gets all staticky. The human body can be very nonsensical at times, unlike yours… All right, that should do it.” The shoe soles—and the wearer of said shoes—crawled out from under the coffin-like box before wiping his hands and smiling at us. “Now, where should I begin? I’m sure you have plenty of questions, right? And I can answer all of them. You could basically say this is the final destination of your journey.” That face. There was no question about it. “You… I’ve seen you before,” Master Chuuya said tensely. “I figured you’d say that first.” Master Chuuya took a picture out of his pocket and stared at the man. It was the photo of him at five years old at the beach while holding hands with a young man in a linen yukata. The young man was smiling cheerfully, squinting from the bright sun. “I was in charge of Project Arahabaki, and N was the nickname the military gave me. N being the first initial of Nakahara. In other words…” The young man in the picture looked identical to the researcher in front of us. “…I’m your father.” The video showed a golden coin. One side was engraved with a fox, the other with the moon. It was beautiful yet somewhat melancholy. Someone was twirling the coin between their fingers. They were young fingers, but everything past their arm was off camera, so it was impossible to see who exactly the person was. They were, however, speaking in an almost singsong manner. “Upon the tainted sorrow, no hope nor want of anything. Upon the tainted sorrow, to idly dream of death.” It was an intriguing poem. The words were not meant for anyone. They simply fell to the ground; it almost felt as if they would continue falling forever. As the poem was being recited, the golden coin began to emit a mysterious glow. The screen changed. Someone was holding a glittering coin in the center of the screen, but the camera was too far away to make out their face. The only thing discernible was how oddly spacious the concrete chamber was. The white light being emitted from the coin gradually changed into a vicious crimson until the entire screen was red. The screen changed again. The next video was of an observation room that looked over the large concrete chamber. One of the walls was a thick panel of Plexiglas; the chamber and the coin’s glow were visible from within. “Confirmation of deep skill lock code within the subject. Launching protocols eight hundred and six through eight hundred and seventy-two.” There were around a dozen researchers attending to their own calculations on this side of the Plexiglas. “Confirming expansion of special-ability light. Gradient increase is three hundred and twenty percent over the maximum allowable value.” “Don’t stop just yet.” The coin’s light grew even brighter and faintly illuminated the researchers’ faces. The light began to pulsate as it turned various shades of crimson, each darker than the last, until it transformed into a pitch-black mass that swallowed the light. “Gamma ray detector has exceeded its sensitivity limit. Internal temperatures rising.” The space itself in the chamber began to change as well. The floor rattled as pieces peeled off and were drawn toward the coin. But before they made impact, the pieces of flooring were crushed under the gravity, then pulverized into a fine powder before disappearing. Soon the space surrounding the coin began warping. “Visual confirmation of spatial distortion! Apparatuses two through six, ten, and fourteen have been destroyed!” “Subject’s vitals are reaching critical levels—no, subject is now in cardiac arrest!” The walls of the spacious test chamber were breaking away along with the floor, each piece successively crashing into the light. The room was no longer even retaining its original form. “Abort! Begin pumping water from the emergency tank!” All of a sudden, the space instantly contracted. The chamber itself twisted as it was drawn toward the individual with the coin. Then came a flash of light and an impact. The screen violently shook until the Plexiglas separating the observation room and test chamber shattered into thousands of pieces and scattered everywhere. The researchers floated in midair. There was a scream, and then the screen faded to black. “What even are skills to begin with?” asked N as he walked us down a path even farther underground. He was taking us to an underground laboratory to tell us what Verlaine did not want us to know. “To tell the truth, we researchers have almost no idea what skills are, either. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit after setting up such a magnificent research facility like this one.” We listened to his monologue while descending the stairs. N was in the lead with Master Chuuya slightly behind and Shirase after him. I was in the very back. “However, there are a few things we do know,” continued N, his tone light. “First, we know that no other organisms aside from humans can possess a skill. You won’t see a plant or a monkey with one, for example. Furthermore, humans can be born with only one type of skill. If the person with the skill dies, their skill disappears as well, for the most part. Also, no skill on its own can raze the entire planet in the blink of an eye. So in other words, there’s an output ceiling to these special abilities.” “Yeah, even I know that,” Master Chuuya cut in apathetically. “This is where things get interesting, though,” N said with a mischievous smirk that hid his true intent. “I said there’s an output ceiling, but the military wanted to know if there was any way they could go beyond that limit. And as it turns out, there kind of is. One method relies on skill singularities.” Oh? I was impressed he knew what a singularity was, and not simply in theory, either. He was a researcher who worked for the military studying the subject. Only a select few researchers in the UK knew of the phenomenon. It appeared that skill research in this country was far more advanced than previously thought. “Only a handful of people in the government know about this, but a singularity is when multiple skills interact with each other and develop into an even higher-level skill phenomenon completely different from the original ones,” N went on. “Anyway, the rules for maximum skill output don’t apply to the skill phenomena created by a singularity. Anything can happen. You could call this extraordinary event an error of special abilities—a skill fallacy.” The stairs came to an end, and we found ourselves at the bottom floor. The only noise that could be heard this deep underground were the sounds of our footsteps. In front of us stood a door. N took the key he had strapped to his waist and unlocked it. “So where are we even headed? And where were you going with that drawn-out story, too?” Master Chuuya demanded. “You’ll find out the answer to both of those questions very soon.” N smiled cheerfully. “This story is about the nature of your existence, so listen carefully, okay?” He then continued his explanation. “Now, a singularity is an extreme outlier when it comes to skill phenomena, but there’s nothing extreme about how they occur. The easiest method is to use two contradicting skills against each other. For instance, a skill that can always deceive its opponent versus a skill that always reveals the truth. Or you could have two skill users who both can see the future fight each other. Usually, one skill will beat out the other, but in some rare cases, you get a completely new skill different from the original two. This is what we call a contradictory singularity.” When I glanced to my side, Shirase was mumbling, “Mmm… ‘Contradictory…’ Mmm…” “Shirase, I understand that this is a difficult subject, but please try to stay awake while you walk,” I told him. “Now, Chuuya…” N was speaking to Master Chuuya by his side. He was clearly pretending like he did not even notice Shirase’s existence. “I told you that you needed at least two skills to create a singularity, right? But some people out there can create a singularity all by themselves.” “What?” “They don’t need another person’s skill. Instead, they can create a point of singularity by colliding their own skill against itself,” N said before he began to twirl his index finger. “The German researcher who first discovered such an ability called it a self-contradicting skill. Hmm… Let me give you a real-life example. Once there was this boy who could amplify the skill of anyone he touched. Super convenient. So what do you think would happen if he used it on himself instead of someone else?” “I mean, I guess he’d just amplify his own skill, right?” “Exactly. In other words, he amplified the skill to amplify the other skill, which amplified the skill to amplify skills that amplify skills. This self-referencing continued nonstop as he endlessly amplified his own skill. The resulting infinite loop of energy violated the principles of special abilities and created a singularity. The excess energy was converted into mass, which created a high density warp in space. The boy was sucked into the giant whirlpool of gravity and taken away to the other side, never to return again.” Interesting. It all made sense now. “So that was the skill user with the coin from the video earlier, correct?” I asked. “Exactly. It was a destructive skill, the kind activated just once in a lifetime.” “…Wait. Don’t tell me that warp in space is—” Master Chuuya’s voice was stiff, his expression tense. “Hold on. Let me finish, first,” N said, interrupting him. “A self-contradicting singularity can occur not only in Germany and Japan but all around the world as well. It happens once every few decades. In ancient times, people used to believe these phenomena were the work of God or demonic beasts, but nobody knew exactly what happened as a result. After all, the creator of the singularity would always die along with it.” While Germany, France, and England were fighting for power on the battlefield, their military researchers were engaging in fierce competition of their own. It would be no surprise if Japan, Germany’s ally, happened to end up with some of Germany’s skill weapon research and technology. “These skills are dangerous; they not only kill the user, but they suck in every other surrounding individual as well. And they can only be used once, to boot. That’s why you can’t really call a singularity a weapon,” N said with a stern look on his face. “But it’s also true that it provides a near-unlimited supply of energy. How would you be able to extract it as a controllable resource, though? That’s the question that jump-started the entire study. And before long, one country figured out how to actually use it as a weapon. One of the world leaders in skill research: France.” France. A spy for the French government. The king of assassins. It finally made sense. “They turned a singularity into a weapon? But how?” Master Chuuya asked. “With the heart.” “What?” “The heart. The human mind,” N intoned almost as if he were reading a poem. “Normally, you would use some sort of device if you wanted to manipulate a massive energy source, right? But as I mentioned earlier, humans are the only organisms who can use these special abilities. In basic terms, you could say that only the human soul can use the energy of a skill. That’s where a French researcher decided to use a cloned body combined with a persona model to make the skill think it was human and had a soul. Tsk… Even I’m disgusted by the idea. But they were successful—terrifyingly so. And born from their research was the spy and skill user Verlaine: a skill with a personality and the ability to manipulate gravity from a singularity. A few years went by until those of us in Japan got our hands on the French research paper and tried to create a skill singularity using the same method. And that…” After a heavy sliding door opened, N had Master Chuuya go in first. “That was Project Arahabaki,” N revealed with a serious expression as the door swiftly closed behind them. Shirase and I were left standing in front of the door; it took me 0.03 seconds to realize what was going on. “Master Chuuya!” I slammed my fist against the door, but the bulletproof and explosion-resistant material was extremely hard. There was no indication that it would give way. N’s voice came out of the intercom next to the door. “Chuuya and I need to be alone for this,” he stated in a flat, emotionless tone. “Project Arahabaki is a national secret, after all. Plus, I only got permission for one visitor. And besides…” A moment went by as if he was briefly thinking about what to say next. N then continued: “Chuuya should probably see this alone. I doubt he’d want anyone else, especially his friends, to witness this.” All of a sudden, I felt a large object moving on the other side of the door. When I scanned the area, it appeared that the other side was an elevator. Master Chuuya and N were most likely going even deeper underground, which astonished me, since we had already traveled so far down. I tried hacking into the elevator’s control system, but I couldn’t. Not because of some sort of defense mechanism, but because I couldn’t get any wireless signal. That was when it hit me. This was what was commonly referred to as an electromagnetic anechoic chamber. The concept is simple. Lining a room with plates made of conductive metal such as iron will reflect radio waves, creating an isolation chamber that electromagnetic fields cannot penetrate. It is the same principle as putting a cell phone into a microwave and finding that it doesn’t receive any signal. The estimated safety value of this mission decreased by 7 percent. I was in a state equivalent to the human emotion of anxiety. What was N after? The elevator’s motor sounded. Chuuya’s expression didn’t change, even after being separated from his friends. He simply shoved his hands in his pockets and observed N’s face as if he were staring at a clock on the wall. “You really thought you could trick me like this?” Chuuya said after a few moments passed. His voice was dry, hollow. “I’m not trying to trick you at all. I was simply looking out for you.” “Just so ya know, I’m gonna fill my boss in on whatever you show me,” he replied apathetically. “I don’t give a damn about any national secrets or whatever.” “Be my guest.” N flashed a suggestive smirk. “Who knows if you’re going to still feel that way after learning the truth, though.” The elevator faintly rumbled while they descended before eventually stopping. The door opened. There was a short hallway up ahead. While the interior was no different from the facility above, the dirt and dust piled by the corners of the floor showed the area’s age. At the end of the hallway was another door with various notices plastered on it such as QUARANTINE and DESIGNATED SEALED DEPARTMENT BY ORDER OF THE DIRECTOR OF INTELLIGENCE. The edges of the old papers were tinged yellow. N tore off the notices one by one. Chuuya watched him out of the corner of his eye. “Just tell me already,” Chuuya suddenly said as if he didn’t care about the answer. N turned around. “Just tell me. It’s not like it’s gonna scare me or anything. I’m not human, am I?” N didn’t answer Chuuya’s question but simply looked silently back at him instead. “After hearing you ramble on like that for so long, I’d be stupid not to realize it,” Chuuya continued brusquely. “I’m the product of Project Arahabaki. In other words, I’m a singularity with a will of its own, and I was made using the same method Verlaine was created with. Right?” N smiled uncomfortably. “What would you do if you were? The truth is behind this door. Are you afraid to find out? Would you rather I tell you now, so you can go home without having to see it for yourself?” Chuuya didn’t reply. He just glared wordlessly back at N. “I’m fine with that if that’s what you want. The only thing important to us is to have Verlaine believe that you know everything. You don’t actually have to know everything, though.” Chuuya stared at the man while apparently racking his brain over something, but before long, he spoke up once more with firm resolution in his voice. “Piano Man and the others tried to investigate to see who I really was, and because of that, they got killed.” There was something reflecting in his eyes that was not there. It was a past memory—he was looking at his friends from behind. “Take me inside. I have an obligation to know everything for their sake.” There was no hesitation in his voice, and there was no possible way to ever get him to change his mind. That was what the power behind his words was conveying. N grinned. He then opened the door in place of a reply. On the other side of the door was what appeared to be a large factory so massive that the back wall couldn’t even be seen. Between the floor and the ceiling was a mesh foothold that acted as a second floor of sorts that Chuuya was standing on. The mesh flooring creaked. Chuuya’s knees buckled, but he managed to grab onto the railing to prevent himself from collapsing. “Are you okay?” “I know this place,” responded Chuuya with a pale expression, ignoring N’s question. “I know this place, damn it.” “I know you do.” Sweat began to drip down Chuuya’s forehead. His eyes remained focused on his surroundings. After emotionlessly looking down at Chuuya, N began to speak in a monotone as if he were reading numbers from the phone book aloud. “This is Research Facility B. It was modeled after Research Facility A, which was located in the Settlement. The layout is exactly the same. This is the closest thing we have to your birthplace since the explosion destroyed the other facility.” Phantasmal voices echoed in Chuuya’s head. “Intruder!” “Seal off doors eight through fifteen!” “I want the Ops Division equipped with class A gear and prepped for an ambush!” Before he even realized it, Chuuya was walking. It looked exactly the same. The same sights he’d been so used to staring at all those years and years. Soldiers and researchers came and went. Armed soldiers ran past Chuuya. It was an illusion. There was nobody there. It was simply a memory from his past. “How many intruders? Are they armed?” “Two intruders, both unarmed!” Screams echoed in his head. It was a memory of that day. The last time Chuuya ever saw this place from that view. His legs eventually carried him to a specific location. “You were inside here.” It was a black cylinder that extended to the ceiling, roughly wide enough for three adults to wrap themselves around it. The surface appeared to be glass, but it was opaque and black, making it impossible to see what was inside. However, Chuuya knew. He knew what this was. He turned to face it. It was something he was intimately familiar with. This cylinder had been his whole world—at least, so he’d thought. A bluish darkness. A cradle to separate him from the outside world—and to protect him from it. But that cradle was suddenly destroyed by an unknown illusion. The cylinder shattered as someone’s hand grabbed Chuuya. Chuuya remembered that hand. It was Arthur Rimbaud’s. And next to Rimbaud was Paul Verlaine. “Your existence is miraculous, Chuuya,” N marveled as if in song. “In the end, we were unable to repeat the same phenomenon here as we did with you.”
Chapter 108
42 min read