The way Ice Doll put it was in more scientific, geological, and astronomical terms. It would have been simple to say she was lying and dismiss it out of hand—which also would’ve been a lot easier on me. However, this icy figure was holding a sword right now because it wasn’t a lie. And she’d cut down Siesta. It wasn’t the sort of argument I could deny based on sentimentality.
“…Is this the other secret Abel mentioned all that time ago?”
He’d told us that the world held another big secret in addition to the Akashic records. In the end, we’d never managed to find it.
“As such,” Ice Doll said, coming full circle, “we will board the Ark and depart for Another Eden.”
That was the only way people living on this planet could escape disaster.
“Specifically, though, how are you planning to get there?” I asked. They couldn’t possibly intend to fly the whole continent there like a giant spaceship.
“The basic concept is similar to the ‘door’ you yourself have used, but there’s no need to get into all the details right now.”
“One more question, then. Wouldn’t it be possible for the whole planet…or rather, the whole human race, to jump worlds? Why do you need to base this on a myth and select certain bloodlines?”
“Moving the Ark will consume all the energy that remains in the System. It isn’t nearly enough to manipulate the programs of eight billion humans. —Besides, the world for which this ship is bound has different civilizations. That will make us an invasive species. No doubt you understand what that means.”
“…A battle for survival, huh?”
Even if we got through the disaster and found another planet, we’d only be borrowing space there. We were bound to start a war if we tried to control it. In order to avoid that, we’d have to know our place in the world. That was why they were selecting certain people to save—and culling their comrades with their own hands. So they would be able to live in secret, huddled together in a corner of the new world.
“That is why we need you. Not the Ace Detective, whose very premise is to die in the line of duty, but you, the Singularity.”
I involuntarily reached for the gun at my hip.
“On this new planet, we want to avoid conflict with the original inhabitants as much as we can. In the event that it becomes inevitable, the Singularity will be our weapon. You can be used as a negotiation tactic. After all, you are a weapon that can be detonated at any time, under any conditions.”
“…So basically, you’re telling me to be a human sacrifice?”
Was that why Ice Doll had kept the Singularity alive all this time? So they could use me as a shield for the human race when they ventured to Another Eden?
“Do I have a choice?”
“No. If you refuse, the number of companions to join you onboard the Ark will dwindle by the day.”
That was by no means an empty threat.
She wouldn’t just take out Siesta; Nagisa or Charlie would be next. She could also dispatch other government officials, though, so maybe it would be Saikawa, Noches, Mia, or Rill.
“Now, Singularity. Board the Ark to save our world.”
“To save…the world?”
“Yes. Your choice will create a future for this planet.”
…Oh. In other words, if the Earth was going to be destroyed whether I was on the Ark or not, then saving the world would mean helping to preserve the seeds of the human race. And if I was the only one who could carry out that role…
“It’s all right.”
At the sound of Ice Doll’s voice, I looked up.
“I promise you that we will inherit the last wills of those who are not selected.”
The moment I heard those words, I knew what my answer would be.
“I refuse. That’s not something the survivors can say.”
Only those who were entrusting their last wills to others could express a wish like that. If a person died and someone left behind claimed that they were inheriting their last will, that was just an empty excuse meant to pacify their survivor’s guilt. There was nothing survivors could do for the deceased.
That wasn’t just true of last wills but of living wills. We gave everything we had for the sake of our wishes, stoked our passions, and struggled frantically before finally entrusting all of that to someone else. It was only then that you had the right to pass it on. You couldn’t just inherit a will with words. If a person really existed who could do that, it would be someone whose mission was ensuring that wills—both living and dead—continued unbroken.
“Do you people have the resolution to back that up?”
However, that question applied to me, too. I didn’t know whether I was really qualified to entrust my will to others at this point. When I talked to Lot earlier, I’d made it sound as if it were already a fact, but maybe that was all the more reason to make sure of it now. I hadn’t chosen the world back then, so maybe I should ask the neighbor I’d entrusted my will to in my place.
“I swear. A position whose ‘very premise is to die in the line of duty’? That’s just rude.”
A familiar voice echoed through the great hall, and an instant later, a gunshot rang out. Ice Doll fell to her knees. The bullet had pierced her right leg.
“—How?” Although the dignitary didn’t turn around, she realized who her enemy was and was stunned.
“You want to know how? Isn’t it obvious? A wound like that would easily heal in five minutes,” I answered in her place.
The bloodstains that had covered the floor earlier weren’t there now; it was as if that blood had been absorbed back into her body. The girl standing on the platform was unscathed.
“After all, Siesta’s the Vampire.”
Which takes us back to over a year ago.