War was about to break out over Planet Charlot, and on the Capital Planet, Cleo’s sister Lysithea had become rather nervous. She would sit down on the couch in Cleo’s office as he worked, only to shoot up and pace around the room.
Cleo sighed. “Your worrying won’t change the tide of the battle, Sister,” he told her.
Lysithea flushed red. “Well, aren’t you curious?! Even Cecilia’s nervous about this…”
“Right, because Lord Kurt—her fiancé—will be fighting.”
Cecilia was their older sister. She was currently engaged to Liam’s friend Kurt Sera Exner and living in House Exner’s domain. When she’d become engaged to Kurt and abandoned her claim on the throne, she had left the inner palace. Still, Lysithea was in regular contact with Cecilia, and had apparently heard from her right before this conflict was set to begin. Her big sister’s anxiety must also have worried her.
“There are so many people fighting whom I don’t want to see killed, like Lord Liam and Lord Kurt. When I think about what could happen to them, it’s difficult to stay calm.”
Lysithea’s pure-hearted feelings nauseated Cleo. He didn’t feel like his sister understood reality. What’s she talking about? Millions of people could die in this conflict. She’s so naive… She can only see what’s right in front of her, not the Empire as a whole.
Lysithea, who had become a knight to protect her brother, was a fundamentally good person, but she was too naive for the inner palace. This was why Cleo hadn’t told her the truth: that he’d secretly joined forces with Calvin to protect the Empire from Liam.
“Well, the count is strong. I’m sure he’ll win victory for us.”
Liam had overcome terrible odds many times. This time around, it seemed like he should actually have an advantage over Calvin’s side—at least, on the surface.
Lysithea composed herself to a degree. “You’re right. Lord Liam is strong! He really can do anything, can’t he? I’ve heard that even the prime minister thinks highly of his governance. If he keeps supporting you after you become emperor, Cleo, the Empire will be all set!”
“…I suppose so. Let’s have faith that the count will be victorious so that it can happen.” Internally, Cleo was disgusted at Lysithea’s simplistic thinking. If Liam wins, I’ll become his puppet, and the Empire will be under his rule. I won’t let that happen. He clenched a fist where Lysithea couldn’t see it. I clung to him to survive. Because of that, I’m close enough to reach the throne now. But I can’t stand the idea of remaining beneath him…
Until now Cleo had been desperate just to survive. Having obtained some stability, though, he could finally focus on other things. He wasn’t desperate now, and he brooded more often. Who was he to blame? The emperor, who’d made a sideshow of him? His mother, who’d insisted he was a man? No—who was using him? Liam Sera Banfield. The man who’d obtained everything that Cleo could never hope to. What was so different about the two of them? Why was Liam endlessly praised, while Cleo had been reduced to his puppet? The hatred in Cleo’s heart swelled by the day.
As he stewed, Lysithea attempted to chat casually with him. “Man… Lord Liam truly is amazing. He’s like a hero, really! If he didn’t already have a fiancée, I guarantee you that the ladies couldn’t stay away from him. I mean, he even makes me swoon sometimes. Cleo, I bet you—”
“I’m a man!” Cleo rose from his chair, furious.
Lysithea apologized, looking awkward. “I-I’m sorry. That’s right. You’re a man.”
“…Please be more careful.”
Lysithea didn’t drop the matter, though, even if she seemed sorry about broaching it. “Still, the truth is—”
“Drop it.” Cleo wasn’t hearing it. Irritated, he left his office.
✦ ✦ ✦
Theodore left Baron Glynn’s domain to visit a lab where he was surrounded by strange, masked researchers. This team, which specialized in various scientific and magical fields, was hastily developing a number of children inside capsules.
As Theodore peered into a capsule, a researcher told him apologetically, “Unfortunately, most of the specimens can’t withstand the quantity of information we input. Their brains or bodies fail, and they have to be disposed of.”
Theodore frowned at this disappointing news. “I believe I told you that failure wouldn’t be tolerated. Do you realize how much money we’re investing in this project?”
The flustered researcher began making excuses. “Rapidly grown clones can’t withstand the amount of data you’ve collected from Liam. We don’t have enough time.”
“You can’t even finish one or two of them?”
The children floating in the capsules had been cloned from Liam’s DNA. Many such clones had been grown rapidly in these information capsules and instilled with Liam’s data but hadn’t survived the process.
“They simply can’t endure the rapid aging and data dump on Liam and the Way of the Flash,” the researcher insisted. “Even adult bodies couldn’t withstand that input. And their life expectancy already isn’t long when they’re artificially aged this way.”
The researchers were trying to forcibly replicate Liam’s strength through cloning. Yet even if they succeeded, those clones wouldn’t live long, making them fundamentally flawed weapons.
Theodore was as agitated as the researcher. “You must succeed before this war ends! It’s pathetic that, with all these specimens, you haven’t yet had one success.”
“One did survive the process…”
“Then hurry up and show it to me.”
“It’s right over here.”
The lead researcher led Theodore to another room. In it sat a small child with messy, knee-length hair, wearing a hospital gown.
Theodore had been pleased to hear that they’d had a success, but he quickly let his displeasure show. “You deliberately made it a girl?” That surprised him; he’d thought that they would only make males, since they were cloning Liam.
The researcher seemed uncertain too. “It’s completely female, yes. We’re still investigating exactly what went wrong in that regard. But this is the only specimen to survive the installation of all Liam’s data.”
Theodore was relieved to hear that they’d pulled that off. “Well, if you succeeded, the gender hardly matters. So, this one…”
“Number 3588.”
When the researcher told him the clone’s number, Theodore turned to look at the girl. She did resemble Liam, but she had none of his outward arrogance. She simply looked up at Theodore curiously.
“So, how does Number 3588 perform? It must have strength rivaling Liam’s, right?”
However, the researcher shook their head. “No… Merely enduring the process doesn’t make for success. Number 3588 has a significant flaw.”
“A flaw?” Theodore’s brow furrowed.
Gazing down at Number 3588, the researchers explained the situation.
“It can’t perform at Liam’s level.”
“And its physical limitations mean it can only exert its full strength for a short period.”
“We can’t call it a success.”
An incomplete specimen who had survived the process, but nothing more—that was 3588.
“So it’s another failure!” Theodore spat, looking down at the clone.
Upon being labeled a failure, Number 3588 hung her head, but neither Theodore nor the researchers paid her any mind.
Theodore couldn’t accept the research team’s lack of success. He had assured Cleo that he would prepare a suitable clone of Liam, and failing to deliver would worsen the prince’s opinion of him. For his own self-preservation, he ordered the researchers, “Focus on training the AI. The mobile knight will be delivered on time, so be sure to calibrate the AI so it can be installed right away.”
“So we’re canceling the clone project? We’ll dispose of Number 3588, then.”
This project broke a taboo, so it would be best to leave no evidence of it.
Theodore stopped them. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll be in trouble if I don’t deliver some result. Number 3588 will pilot the mobile knight as our success.”
“Even though it’s actually a failure?”
“Even if it’s a failure, we can claim we achieved something if we can get it into the cockpit. Leave it alive until then.”
Thus, Number 3588’s fate was decided.