“—And that was how the world’s records were rewritten.”
I was in the control tower relating the memories I’d retaken to Siesta and Ms. Fuubi.
I’d remembered everything. Our memories had been rewritten, but not by Abel. The world’s records had been falsified by the will of the world itself.
“We couldn’t even question it.”
We’d forgotten everything, accepted the miracle of Siesta’s awakening with no context as a matter of convenience, and started living in peace.
I’d attended university with Nagisa and worked at the detective agency Siesta had established, basking in the epilogue of that story. Over a year had passed since the Great Cataclysm—the original meaning of which we’d even forgotten.
“So this thing was the cause of it all, huh?” Still smoking her cigarette, Ms. Fuubi kicked the weakly glowing System. The culprit that had rewritten the world. “A reboot. But why did it rewrite our memories, too? The only goal it had was taking the Akashic records back from Abel, right?”
That…was a good question. Why had it needed to drag us and the entire world into this?
“What do you think, Siesta?” I asked.
“Maybe it was something like a forced update,” the detective said, attempting to deduce the answer. “The program it executed was meant to ensure that the System wouldn’t be exposed to danger again. In other words, all data regarding the Akashic records were selectively erased from the world after the reboot in order to hide them again.”
“I see… Meaning we forgot the Singularity and the Phantom Thief because they were memories that linked directly to the Akashic records?”
“But look at the state it’s in after going so far to protect Pandora’s box.”
Siesta was looking at the enormous pyramid that had fallen to earth. Looking at it now, it was hard to believe it had ever floated in midair shining with that brilliant light.
“It reclaimed part of the Akashic records from Abel, but I bet it wasn’t able to restore them completely.”
Maybe I couldn’t actually call it proof, but even though it had been more than a year since the Great Cataclysm, no enemies of the world had appeared. Could that be because, as I’d guessed at the time, losing the Akashic records meant there were no absolute standards for good and evil anymore, so the boundaries had blurred?
At the same time, the damage to the System was probably why a shadow had fallen across the Oracle’s ability to see the future, as well as the Information Broker’s omniscience. Without even being aware of it, the Tuners had lost the power of their wills. …In fact, Siesta had almost gotten killed at the Ritual of Sacred Return the other day. A mistake like that would never have happened back when she’d been able to use her will, even if she’d only been using it unconsciously.
“I swear, what is up with the world?”
There was no way this had resolved the situation.
If it was a sure thing that no disasters would happen again and no more enemies of the world would appear, Bruno Belmondo would never have played the part of a great evil himself. Some future threat was bearing down on us. That was why he’d given us a warning.
“I guess we can’t really say this is something we’ll have to deal with ‘from now on.’”
At this very moment, Yggdrasil’s seeds had spread so far around the world that they were beginning to impact the areas in which humans could live and work. We were being swallowed by evil just after becoming aware of the fact that we knew nothing. The Great Cataclysm wasn’t over yet.
“We’ve spent over a year like this?”
Apparently, once again, I’d been soaking in a lukewarm bath that was gradually getting colder, unaware of what was happening around me.
Ms. Fuubi was smoking a cigarette a short distance away, lost in thought. I glanced at her, then sat down again.
“You’ll get wrinkles between your eyebrows if you keep making that face,” Siesta said, sitting down beside me.
“I’ve got the kind of face people forget if they don’t see it for three days anyway. It would be a good thing to develop a distinguishing feature or two.”
“A ‘face people forget if they don’t see it for three days’? That’s an interesting self-evaluation.”
“Uh, it was your evaluation. You told me that way back when.”
“Did I? I should probably take it back, then.”
Looking at my face, Siesta smiled softly.
“Even after sleeping for a year and three months, I didn’t forget your face, Kimi.”
I felt as if a thorn that was stuck in my chest had been removed. I gazed at Siesta for a little while, then heaved a long sigh. “To tell you the truth, I was a little worried.” The words had come out before I knew I was going to say anything, and Siesta looked perplexed. “When we realized something strange was happening to the world and found out there were holes in our memories…there were moments when I thought maybe it was some sort of mistake that you’d woken up. That maybe I was daydreaming.”
What if this had been some new ideal world that Abel had created, for example? Had we clung to a happy dream and gotten trapped in it? —But no. Back then, we’d accepted this unfair world, and that was the reality in which we’d retaken the detective.
“I’m glad you’re still you.”
I said it without averting my gaze, looking straight at Siesta’s profile. There was no point in being embarrassed or trying to hide anything at this point.
“You’re being so honest.”
“Isn’t it best to be honest?”
“Well, since you’re in this mood, Kimi, let me ask you something.” Siesta stood up, still watching my face. “Just before I woke up, did you…?”
There was silence for a few seconds, during which Siesta kept her eyes on me. Then she seemed to change her mind, turning to face forward again. “Anyway, we should probably start thinking about what comes next.”
At that, I stood up as well.
As we’d just been discussing, the Great Cataclysm wasn’t over. We had a mountain of things to deal with.
“For starters, we’ll need to tell Nagisa and the others about this.”
Nagisa was currently off looking for Charlie, who’d gone missing.
Unless the situation had changed, Ookami and Mia would be with her. We needed to fill them in on the potential crisis that was unfolding, and we had to do it fast.
“Also, we’ll need to confront the people at the top,” Ms. Fuubi said, joining the conversation. By “people at the top,” she probably meant the Federation Government dignitaries. “How much of this do they remember? If they knew everything, kept it under wraps, and held the Ritual of Sacred Return, we’ll need to ask them why.”
“Definitely. Assistant, can you contact Noel?” Siesta asked.
“Yeah.” I took out my smartphone. Noel de Lupwise was the granddaughter of the late Bruno Belmondo and a member of the Federation Government. She had entrusted us with the Sacred Relics, so she’d probably help us out.
“Shall we go?”
When I turned around, I saw a door.
It was the exit to the control tower. For better or for worse, the power of the Singularity seemed to have returned to me.
“This is where it all started, huh?”
It had all happened because of this nature known as the Singularity.
The Singularity was said to be able to overturn unfairness of all kinds and make anything happen no matter how improbably convenient—even if the very person wielding it ended up becoming a calamity. Yet despite this, the Ace Detectives had protected the Singularity throughout history.
“What’s the matter?”
I’d stopped in my tracks, and Siesta was staring at me, puzzled.
I’d always been protected. By Siesta, by Natsunagi. Maybe an anonymous person, someone I hadn’t even known about, had been protecting me even before that…
“No, it’s nothing.” Shaking my head with a grin, I kept walking toward the door. “I’m just getting tired of a story where I’m always the one being protected.”
Though that didn’t mean the story was over.
I’d gotten my wish. The detective was awake. However, the world hadn’t been saved yet. So—
“It’s still too soon for the epilogue.”
—I put my hand against the door that would lead us to the next story.
“You’re pretty conceited for an assistant.”
“…Not fair.”