“I…see.”
A stiff smile had settled on my face at some point.
Apparently, that tiresome nature—the one I’d always called my “knack for getting dragged into things”—was a curse that had been viewed as a disaster for the past several millennia.
As proof, the Tuners were all lined up in front of that Singularity monster with their weapons at the ready, prepared to put down that unparalleled disaster.
“Well, no wonder the government bunch is so eager to get rid of me.”
Even if that meant joining forces with Abel Arsene Schoenberg, the Phantom Thief.
“Take a closer look,” Bruno said, gently chiding me.
A single solitary figure was facing a different direction. While all the other Tuners were aiming their weapons at the Singularity, that figure held no weapon. In fact, its arms were spread wide as if it were trying to shield the monster.
“That’s the Ace Detective.” Bruno’s tone sounded mildly exasperated, but also as if he found it endearing. “Of course, the name of the position has changed with the times. It has been known as the Seeker and the Adventurer. Their mission has always been to pursue the truth, and they have quelled disasters by protecting the Singularity rather than killing it. Look.” Bruno flipped through the pages of the heavy book.
They showed a negative version of history.
The Tuner who was now known as the Ace Detective had fought desperately to protect the Singularities of history—and either the detective had been killed by the other Tuners or the Singularity had died. It was an unhappy legacy.
“Even so, no Ace Detective ever gave up,” Bruno continued. “They alone believed that the Singularity did more than simply bring about disaster.”
“…So the Singularities of every age have been protected by the Ace Detective? Or rather, by the ally of justice in that position, whatever it was called at the time?”
The last page showed the Tuners finally putting down their weapons with two figures in front of them. One was seated on the ground, while the other was gently holding out its left hand.
“Now, down to business.”
Bruno must have guessed why I was here. He led me into an inner room.
This room was also lined with dense rows of shelves, but in the center was a clear space with a table. Two books had been set on the desk, side by side.
“I once chose between knowing everything and giving that up in exchange for the ability to work a single miracle.”
“You’re saying those two choices correspond to these two books?”
Bruno nodded silently. Either know everything about the world or be allowed to make whatever one thing you want to happen. If there was something that could present a human being with options like that, it would have to be…
“Are these books the Akashic records?”
Or maybe “part of them” was a better way to put it. The bulk of the records had to be housed in the depths of the System—that inverted pyramid floating in the control tower.
If Bruno’s story was true, though, why had he alone been given the right to make such a powerful choice?
The System was said to manage this world like a program…but had it needed a human who could freely use that program? The sort of person Abel was claiming to be?
“Bruno, the Akashic records chose you, didn’t they?”
Maybe not as their one and only administrator but as an ally on humanity’s side who would guide the world properly.
“No, I won it for myself with my will.” Bruno looked uncharacteristically proud as he gazed at the two books. Omniscience or a single miracle? Since he was the Information Broker, it was clear which one he’d chosen.
“Now, what will you do?”
“No way. Are you telling me I could be omniscient, too?”
“No. You’ve been given two completely different options.”
Bruno pointed at the left book, then the right one.
“Will you choose the power to save your neighbor or the power to save everything else?”
Oh, that.
“So in the end, it comes back to that decision.”
These two choices could be rephrased as “save the girl or save the world.”
The white demon had said something similar once. That when the girl and the world were placed on the scales, there was no chance that I would choose the world. I had thought so, too. I’d also thought that made me a failure as the Singularity.
Now here I was, faced with that same question again. The girl or the world? I couldn’t avoid it. I needed that answer now, and I gave it bluntly, without hesitation.
“I’ll save the girl who’ll save the world.”
First, I’d save the girl—the detective—then she and I would save our companions. And finally, the world.
That was my answer.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” the world’s wisdom asked before the final judgment. “You might want to take a peek inside, just to see.”
Neither of us had touched the books yet.
Even so, light seeped out of them, flickering with what looked like moving images.
An idol was singing in a huge stadium. In the front row sat a couple who seemed to be her parents, smiling and cheering their daughter on.
A blond-haired girl was enjoying a picnic with her family. A mother was eating a sandwich her daughter had made, looking as if she found it delicious.
A blue-haired girl was in her room playing video games with somebody. A parent’s kind voice came from beyond the door, telling her to make sure she didn’t spend too much time gaming.
“Say the Akashic records respond to your will and save your neighbor, and therefore your companions. What then? You’ll be waking them from the happy dreams they’re having right now. Tearing apart those idyllic daydreams, in which no enemies of the world appear and there are no crises or evils.”
…I see. So Saikawa, Charlie, and Mia, who’d all stayed in Japan, had been trapped by Abel’s codes?
“I’m sorry.”
Right now, they were dreaming of their perfect world. Of the new world Abel was trying to create. Maybe the people from this country who’d vanished were doing the same thing.
“You’re about to shatter their dreams.”
A shudder ran through me. I was about to destroy their idyllic dreams…
“—I’m fine with that.”
They could resent me for it. I didn’t mind if they threw rocks or pointed spears at me. I already knew that, as far as the world was concerned, the Singularity was a cataclysm. That had been determined thousands of years ago.
“Even if they call me the Great Cataclysm later.”
I touched the book on the left.
A bright, piercing light instantly flooded out of it.
“This is the right choice, isn’t it?”
But Bruno wasn’t there anymore.
All I heard was what sounded like a single word:
“Corretto.”