Chapter 159

…and lamented his crime, realizing that the illusory happiness he’d experienced was the feeling of the mammillary augmented Shiro on his lap. Sora pulled away in a panic, but— No you don’t!! Shiro swiftly clenched his hand tight. Kneading her large breast with Sora’s hand as if she wanted to add to his sentence, she told him. “…Fake boobs are superior! Fake boobs…are pads…!! Which means…you can touch them and squish them…you can do anything…and it’s okay! Is there, something wrong…with touching…a balloon, stuffed in the chest?!” …… ……Huh? Now that you mention it… Just as Sora was starting to be convinced— “……Mm. ” “S-sir… Ma’am!! Th-the control… W-we’re out of synchronization, we aaare!!” —Til, likewise thoracically enhanced, yelled over Shiro’s moan, for which Sora was thankful. “Come to your senses, Shiro!! A brother who sticks a balloon into his little sister’s chest and squeezes it saying, ‘It’s oookayyy, it’s just a balloon, gweh-heh-heh’ is seriously fucked in the head! And in any case, people aren’t gonna look kindly on it, you know?!” Sora gripped the deeply cracked joystick and screamed as a sight filled his newly reclaimed vision—the sight left behind by Veig, now far away. Shiro and Til, too, blanched and swallowed. Veig’s blade had just started to sink into the chest of Sora and Shiro’s unit, whereupon they’d shaken it off. His blow had activated the “big boob essence” within the sword—its conceptual rewriter—and broken through the junk pile around them. But it wasn’t its raw force at which they shivered. It was Veig himself, who’d produced this spectacle. Statues rolling at Veig’s feet, even statues of little girls that looked to have been cast aside, all showed prominent breasts. He was a pervert. «Tch, you refuse my ideal tits. Picky, picky… Who do you think you are, virgin?» “I know who you are if you’re fussing that even statues all have to have big boobs. You’re a pervert!” Sora howled on behalf of everyone, aghast at Veig. Then— —all three shivered: It’s as expected, but what a fearsome game. …The damage converged into the cores—yes, the cores that synchronized their souls with orichalcum. So, they literally smashed their souls together, and if his soul overcame theirs, it would infringe on theirs as it had just done. And if their hearts broke, just as their joysticks were cracking now, their cores would crumble… Ah… Indeed it was a collision of souls…!! The frame was safe; it wouldn’t break. But one wrong step, and big boobs would reign supreme, statues and all!! … They had to think a little about whether they’d rather cross that line or die…!! «…Hff… Who would have thought…?» Sora and Shiro’s unit was bracing itself with unconcealed terror. But Veig, facing them, seemed more interested in that unthinkable last moment, which he recounted with heartfelt pleasure. Yes— «First of all, for my fockin’ niece to be about as full of spirits as me… Who woulda thought?» Yes—Sora and Shiro’s unit was a masterpiece of a past talent and Veig’s only rival, Lóni Drauvnir. Even without the “big boob essence,” no one should have been able to move it but Veig. Moreover: «And ya demi-shifted that great big thing—and that firepower! Who woulda thought?» Indeed, just as Veig had done a brief while ago, they too had used a demi-shift to dodge behind him. And immediately afterward, the Gatling gun in their unit’s arms had unleashed a torrent of suppressive fire that cut through the ruins in the way, pierced Veig’s mech, and stopped him in his tracks. Such a powerful barrage should have been impossible without spirits similar in magnitude to Veig’s. «But what I really never woulda thought—» Veig named the yet more unthinkable, his voice tinged with both glee and ferocity. «—is that you’d dodge me without being able to react, and cut off my pursuit. How’d ya fockin’ do that?» Indeed. Neither Sora nor Shiro, nor even Til were able to react to Veig’s maneuvers. On top of that, they’d failed to dodge his strike completely and had lost themselves to an illusion for several seconds. So looking at that whole series of events— —what was their trick to pulling that off without being able to react or even be aware, the voice asked? “Ha-ha, something impossible in a game? Gotta be somebody cheating, obviously. ” “…If you can find…the trick…then try…to find it… ” “Uh, um! Should I not point out that both of you are dripping with cold sweat?!” Til quite needlessly ruined Sora and Shiro’s tough-guy act. «Ha!! Game’s on… You’d better not let the cat out of the bag too easy and let me down.» Veig took a fighting stance following this bold statement, and the atmosphere grew tense once more. Indeed…among the things Veig “had never thought”— —wasn’t that they’d be able to dodge at all… The new tension made it clear: As he’d said, that was just a test run. Of course they should be able to dodge that. Now things would get real. Veig lunged at them again— «But first…» —or so he made it look, while without the slightest hesitation— «Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out, ya unworked titwad? You think I’m stupid?! Do ya?!» —he swung his mech’s left fist around with the full weight of the unit, roaring out of the blue. How could he figure it out? The projectile came from over seven thousand meters away at a magical speed close to that of light, from the mighty cannon hauled on the back of the unit of Chlammy and Fiel, who’d hidden immediately after the game began. They’d used that oversized bazooka to snipe at him the moment he let his guard down. There was no way he should have been able to sense their magic bullet. But somehow, he must have had a hunch. Seeing its trajectory as plain as day, he took it down with his fist. Iron fist intercepting ammunition. A collision—a flash. A roaring shock wave. Having laid waste to all the ruins around him, Veig stood calmly rooted to the spot— «…Oh, I see… This whole time…I was a rubbish-eater not worth living…» —and let such melancholic words spill across the comm line… But that was only momentary. «—Hey, damn you, titwad! The hell are you doing? You almost made me depressed there for a second. The hell?!» He pulled himself together just in time to dodge the second shot. Another voice answered Veig’s clear cry of fear and distress. «What am I doiiing? Why, I’m merely striking you with my soul— expressing my proclivities just as intended. » Fiel’s transmission as her unit once more disappeared brought another chill down Sora’s, Shiro’s, and Til’s spines. Yes—this…this fearsome game… It was truly a clash of souls. And so…!! What Fiel was expressing, as she momentarily dragged Veig deep down into the dumps— «I simply cannot abide you moles. You just rub me the wrong way! » —was a deep-seated, 100-percent-pure, utter rejection—an instinctive revulsion… What specifically had Veig seen and thought? They didn’t know. «Aren’t yer tastes a little out of line, witch?! If I lose, it looks like I’m gonna have a mental breakdown!» «Why, that would be wonderful. I was planning to commaaand you to do so after my victory anywayyy. » But Veig quaked and howled at the soul so intense it had sunk him into self-loathing until… …suddenly, he glanced around and looked up. «…Huh. Well—suppose I should have expected it.» Sora, Shiro, and Til’s mech had vanished, while Fiel, on the other hand, still knew where Veig was. «…I did say you could come at me with as many of whatever kinds of machines you wanted—and I never said you couldn’t meddle with the venue, either, did I…? So if you say the venue’s a secret until just before, then yeah…» Sora, Shiro, and Til all got the chills to hear Veig put his finger on the edge of their scheme so easily. Yes, they’d been able to dodge his first attack because they’d planted demi-shift anchors in advance. For the time being, they reloaded with ammo they’d likewise planted. «I should assume the stage itself is your machine—your hunting grounds, eh? Ha…» But they’d been well aware he had the intuition to read that far. So they got the chills not just because he’d revealed one of their tricks… «…You’re in way over your head—callin’ me prey…» …It was because they’d had the clear illusion of seeing his fang-toothed sneer as he spoke. Indeed—there was no rule that said you couldn’t prep the battlefield. Nor was there any dictating that players at leisure in their cockpit, like Chlammy and Fiel, couldn’t watch the broadcast that so helpfully relayed throughout Hardenfell their enemy’s movements. And so Chlammy and Fiel observed as the fight of Sora, Shiro, and Til versus Veig ratcheted up. The golem lay concealed in the shadows of the ruins, its propulsion deactivated to forestall spirit detection. But its residents frowned. They could never stand a chance in terms of machine specs or combat ability. So, when engraving rites on their machine, they hadn’t bothered with the specs at all. They’d put everything into one over-the-top weapon—a sniper rifle specialized in raw projectile power. A magicannon: a cannon whose seal rites Fiel put all her spirits into so it could fire with the greatest force possible. Combined with her undying hatred, Fiel knew her potent soul was enough to overpower Veig. These two trump cards proved successful in impinging on Veig. Yes, just as set out in their deal with Sora and Shiro, they had plenty of chances to win. It was all going according to plan. And for that very reason, Chlammy and Fiel cursed at the screen silently: You nonsensical little shits… This was bullshit. It was absurdity they could predict but not comprehend. For instance— «Ha!! That’s a powerful shot ya got there—but your soul’s light as a feather!!» —there was Veig, demi-shifting using the sword he’d struck into the ceiling like lightning as an anchor. Then transforming his giant sword into countless curved blades that traced innumerable arcs through the air. Demi-shifting all over the place as they flew through every nook and cranny of the ruins. Bullshit. Or, for instance— «You can scratch my frame, but you ain’t touchin’ me!! I can’t hear your soul!» —there was Sora and Shiro, dodging the countless blades flying too fast for the eye to follow. Veig used blades as anchors to demi-shift, and although Sora and Shiro shouldn’t have been able to identify which anchor or how to even react— «Well yeah, if you’re gonna be screaming about how you’ll only accept uniformly huge boobs, we can’t help but joke around!» «…Brother…! Before, you joke around…shift…!» —they somehow identified it and somehow reacted. Howling a ferocious battle cry, they rained bullets on their opponent as if they’d known he’d appear behind them. How did such absolute bullshit manage to hit him? Even the near-light-speed magic bullet of Chlammy and Fiel’s sniping, while it had hit him when he let his guard down, was dodged the second time— «Did ya know?! Your taste in tits corresponds to the size of your self-confidence, ya mewling kitten!!» «Is that so? Then you’re one overconfident bitch!! Learn a little humility, little man!!» «Ngrah! Hey, I ain’t small! I’m packin’!! You’re the one who’s small!!» «I meant little as in small-minded! Are you saying my thing is small?! Th-th-that’s not even true!» They easily picked out the positions and moments in which Veig wouldn’t be able to dodge. Veig ended up coming up behind the building at Sora and Shiro’s back and slicing it in two. «Ha!! Only a small man can’t answer with “It’s big”!!» «…Brother…! …Even, if…he’s right…don’t listen to him!» «Hey, Shiro, knock off the friendly fire!! He doesn’t know what your brother is capable of—not that we want him to!» How did they dodge that? They couldn’t have seen it. They couldn’t have reacted to it. Even Sora and Shiro were just humans—!! Chlammy at last let out a gasp—Most incomprehensible was that which Sora uttered as Veig’s fist burst out through the crumbling building—an instant too late to feasibly evade—and Sora’s unit shifted just as it connected. «—Pshhh, no sweat!! Get outta here, ya big-boob fascist!!» «I—I, too! A-am not done yet, I’m not… I’m fine, I aaam!!» —How can they endure it? How can they remain so steadfast in their rejection of big boobs—?! My core would have crumbled into dust with the very first strike!! Their resolute resistance against Veig’s soul was the greatest bullshit against which Chlammy shrieked internally. It’s inconceivable. It’s bizarre. And these are mere Immanities? Mere humans?! They couldn’t be human. Normal humans «…Brother… Why, do you deny, my boobs…?» «Come again? What was that, Shiro?» —Yes…normal humans should behave like this. The sad voice of Shiro, who had buckled under Veig’s whispers, echoed in Chlammy’s mind. —Oh…I almost forgot. Chlammy smiled as Fi restarted their unit at the same moment. That’s right…Sora and Shiro are just humans. Mere humans, who go astray and fail. Chlammy was thus relieved to hear Shiro confronting her brother with the ultimate question. «…Brother, you’re a, lolicon… You like them, smooth and flat… But when I grow up and grow boobs…will you, not like me anymore? Will you…abandon me…?!» The question of: What will you do when she’s not a Loli anymore? Yes, the lolicon’s fateful question. The ultimate question. However… «How many times do I have to say it?! I’m not a lolicon! Besides!! You can grow big boobs, or get old and wrinkly, or even turn into a man!! Nothing could make your big brother not like you! …Hey, are you crying?!» …unlike the flustered Sora, Chlammy understood what was in Shiro’s heart as if it were her own. Yes, Shiro had been hit by Veig’s soul and was just temporarily conditioned by it. Her words were not her own., and yet neither were they entirely insincere… Sora was alarmed because he sensed that. Furthermore— «Uh, excuse me—th-the chieftain! The chieftain’s coming, he iiiis!» —Chlammy got Veig in the crosshairs so they could follow up on the attack of the out-of-sorts Sora and Shiro. That’s right…fake was fake. Whatever you did, it was the same as pads. However they might try, the weak could never become the strong…and that was why: If it was impossible to wipe away this feeling of inferiority—if one’s essence would be the same regardless of whether one had big boobs!!! “Then obviously it’s better to have boobs, isn’t it?!” As she pulled the trigger, Chlammy, having momentarily understood Shiro, was beyond Sora’s own understanding. From 820 meters, the unit that had cloaked itself even from spirit detection fired a shot that ripped through buildings. At almost light speed, the unknowable, unavoidable magic bullet rushed onward. But yet again— «—Ha!! You think that’ll work twice?! Ya dozy titwad!!» —just one other than Chlammy understood—or rather, probably just intuited. Veig, having known the trajectory before the shot was fired, leaped before the trigger went down…and escaped. Evaded the unevadable. But Fiel answered without surprise at his paradoxical transmission: «Why, yesss. After allll, that was ooonce. » Not having known the unknowable, Veig sneered back, while at the same time— «Aaargh! Who gave you permission to enter our lebensraum?! Begone, black devil!» «…Eegh?! Qu-quick, I need a newspaper…or a slipper—or—or bug spray…!» «I knew it, I diiid! The chieftain is more disgusting than a cockroach, he iiiiis!!» —his evasion let Fiel’s soul blaze on right into Sora, Shiro, and Til, infringing on theirs in an instant. They screeched as their Gatling gun roared. …Their thoughts temporarily drenched in Fiel’s soul, the three of them rained bullets on Veig. He cried out with the same amount of terror as Fiel’s blast, but more critically— «Biiitch! Ya damn bloody titwad! Just how much do ya hate me?!» —he cried out from the heartbreak of being called worse than one of those black beasts by his niece. Undaunted, Chlammy ignored him and turned to go lurk in the darkness once more. What sort of trickery were Sora and Shiro using to compete with Veig? Whatever it was, Chlammy and Fiel couldn’t imitate it. So it didn’t matter. If Sora and Shiro were going to act according to their deal, Chlammy and Fiel just had to live up to their end. In other words: exploit it and win! “We shall take the best and leave the rest! You shall be the sacrifice for my sizable dreams, Sora…!!” At the bottom of a dim hole a small distance from the venue, there was a girl calmly watching via broadcast as Chlammy disappeared into the darkness of the ruins, her voice tinged with tragic sobs. “…Um… So basically… Let me go over this, all right?” It was Steph, in Til’s hideout, where Jibril was watching the monitor, hugging her knees. Emir-Eins had brought Steph here just after the game began, and Jibril had explained the foregoing events. Emir-Eins hungrily fixed her eyes on the monitor, but Steph went on. “Sora and Shiro created a drug that would make another country sell itself for it—a poison, in other words.” “You archaeological artifact! You can’t even follow so simple a command from your master as to stay home, can you?” “So they were offered a game they had absolutely no need to play…and they accepted. Am I correct?” “Lament: Threatened by woman of unknown name. Critical. Top priority of this unit is securement of master. Therefore, evaded threat. Precedence over command. Flügel should agree… It’s not my fault.” “—Excuse me, are you listening?! And I do have a name!” Steph raised her voice at the two who seemed entirely uninterested in her recapitulation. Mumbling TL;DR to herself, she got straight to the main points, screaming as she went over the reasons why they were playing this unnecessary game: “Because they say they’ll only let friends run a tab?! And he said that he wouldn’t be friends with someone who didn’t like large breasts?! And this game is about whether women should have large breasts—?! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” …If the people of Elkia got word of this, it would be past time for a coup d’état and they would be well on the road to a revolution. The people be damned—Steph had half a mind to start one herself! But Jibril and Emir-Eins just looked at her pityingly. “You are as reliable as ever, little Dora, in failing to see past the surfaces of things…” “Enigma: Woman of unknown name competent in politics and economics, extremely incompetent in similar games. Unsolvable. Fallback: Lack of comprehension of master identified. Not eligible for love. Resignation recommended.” “I—I will do no such thing—and I said I have a name! It’s S—” Steph tried to change the subject, but Jibril interrupted her with a claim that made her gasp. “My masters have been called upon to settle with the tab of their old world.” “!!” Sora and Shiro’s past; their old world, before they came to Disboard. Steph couldn’t say she’d never thought about it. After all, how would she feel if she were suddenly thrown into another world…? …She’d want to go home. At the very least, she’d feel regret and homesickness. But those two showed no such signs—they never spoke of it all. So Steph always wanted to ask about it. Those two-in-one siblings, who had even toyed with a god… And surely, this past they never spoke of, that of these two who could accomplish anything if they tried… “Of all things, he asked them a most foolish question: Why did they flee? They simply took that as a challenge.” “—A…a most foolish question?” Steph was grateful to Jibril for cutting off her impertinent conjectures, but she did ask what was supposed to be so obvious. Jibril answered as if that very question were absurd. “In the first place, under what conditions can one say that one has ‘reconciled one’s past’?” “Truth: Our debts. Our sin. To reconcile. Does not change past events… Cannot.” “The past in which we killed each other, all the things which may have been wrong…all led to this day.” “Acknowledgment: Accept past. Proceed. Lesson of Master to Ex Machina.” Yes…Steph listened to those placid words, desperately holding back tears as she felt something well up in her chest. These two were members of Flügel and Ex Machina…who, in fact, had each lost something irreplaceable at the other’s hands. A past too enormous for Steph, born after the Covenants, to presume to understand… Still feuding, still at odds, even so, here they accepted the past, acknowledged it—and allowed for it… They shared that same hope. “And then to ask why my masters fled their past? It is as foolish as a question can be.” “Conclusion: Masters accept their loss. Redundant explanation. Calculation probability—zero.” So. Hopefully. The two servants continued together. “Just as I can now accept my past as all for the sake of meeting my masters…” “Vow: Masters fled in order to meet this unit. Past assigned meaning. Unit will assign.” Their words were like prayers. At last a tear ran down Steph’s cheek. Then Jibril once more gestured to the monitor. “From this perspective, the significance of this game is great indeed.” «Enough of your bloody claptrap! You’re runnin’ from tits ’cos you ain’t got confidence, ain’t it?! Ain’t it that right?!» «Shut up!! You scrubs who think any game that’s not a triple-A sucks can kiss my ass!!» “……This…argument is over whether they like large bosoms…?” The sentimentality-destroying repartee made short work of her tearful emotions. However: “Sigh: Explanation. Central point of contention of masters in this game is not value of large breasts.” “Oh, little Dora? Has my master ever said that he rejects large bosoms?” Hearing the two, Steph looked back at the screen—That’s right! The reactions of those invaded by the souls of Veig and Fiel were easy to recognize. However—what was the reaction from Sora’s and Shiro’s souls? Wait, in the first place…! “You’re right…!! In the first place—it’s not the case that Sora despises large breasts!” Yes, Sora was a lolicon. This was more indubitable than the existence of Tet. But Steph herself had almost forgotten that unforgettable day on which she had first met Sora—!! “He, uh, um…groped mine!” Steph interpreted the racing of her heart and the heat in her cheeks as anger as she screamed out. Yes…Steph knew what kind of man he was: a virgin who would take what he could get, who would boldly announce that he was recording the goings-on in the bath for his own, shall we say, self-gratification! In that case, what, in the end, was his contention? Steph asked with a look. But— “……Goodness? That is news to me, Dora.” “Confirmation: Inferred to be boast regarding size of own chest. Also—” —right then, two voices continued emotionlessly and instantly rendered Steph’s reddened face white. “You intend to advertise that you have been used by my master, do you? ” “Command: Disclose context of humblebrag immediately. Rejection not recommended. It will hurt.” —When he hasn’t even used me…? Steph felt as if their words and gazes were physically stabbing her and almost passed out. “Reserved: Matter at hand has priority. Master rarely speaks of own past.” “And thus, this game has greater significance in terms of my master’s present.” Behind their words, Steph felt just as if she could hear what their eyes were telling her. …Has it really not occurred to you, Stephanie Dola? Look at that Sora—that virginal young man surrounded by so many women. But in only one case has he spontaneously, voluntarily, of his own will… …groped someone’s boobs. Yours, bitch!!!! “I had taken it to mean that he preferred little girls and wondered only about his position on breasts, but…” “Recalculation: Irregular data added. Master preferences. Mature body observed as compatible in one instance. Reanalyzing.” Jibril started scribbling in her book, while Emir-Eins’s head made scratching noises. I see… Steph swallowed. If Sora really would go for any female, then why hadn’t he touched any of them? No, why was it that, even as of now—he’d only touched Steph? It was, indeed, a question of his present situation, his preferences!! “In any case, this is a test of my master’s ideals. His soul will speak to them. The answer is at hand.” “Critical: Remaining Ex Machina cluster attempted to identify master preferences, failed. Revelation imminent.” If he liked small boobs, they would remake themselves at once with small boobs. If it was confirmed that he liked little girls, they would remain little girls for eternity, they vowed resolutely. Yes—for a future that would prove the past all to have been to bring them together—! Today, they would prepare for that day of reckoning, they declared with conviction. Steph had her own thoughts on the matter: —I doubt that revelation will come… Actually, as Steph summed it all up in her brain, her suspicion turned to conviction. Sora, indeed, would go for anything. Or, put more simply—he didn’t even really care. But in that case—if it was impossible to make peace with the past, if it was unacceptable even to justify it—if, just as these two had declared, the past would be proven to exist for the sake of their meeting—then what about the present? What sort of answer would those two offer for their victory…? Steph swallowed quietly and followed the others’ lead in staring at the screen seriously. —Why, in fact, had only her breasts been squeezed? Not even realizing that that was where her attention lay, alas…she watched in perfect earnest…… However, on the other side of the screen—in the cockpit, responsible for controlling the mech as it raced across the stage—Til, more than anyone, was wheezing with questions. The backs of the two competing neck and neck with Veig seemed distant. How? …She wondered at ways of using a spirit arm she’d never even imagined… «Heh, I’m finally startin’ to see it…! The secret of how you do the impossible!!» His strident laughter filled the cockpit… Ah… How could a grubby little mole like Til, with neither the spiritual amplitude of Veig nor the rite-compiling chops of Fiel, accomplish this? These bullets fast enough to catch Veig, this curtain fire solid enough to stop him— «I know how you get that impossible firepower. It’s by intentionally overloading catalysts and discarding them, ain’t it?!» Yes—under the storm of Sora and Shiro’s Gatling gun, Veig had seen through this. “What, you’re talking about that?! D00d, that should go without saying. Of course we’d do that!!” “…Using magic to accelerate bullets… Laughing…at Newton’s, third law of motion…” Smiling, they declared it the basic principle of otherworldly artillery. …Til had lamented the fact that she didn’t have the spirits to pull off a single spell without spirit-arm boosting, nor could she control a booster sufficiently to prevent explosion. Sora and Shiro had laughed. —Why bother controlling it? —It’s gonna blow up? Excellent. Blow it the hell up. And so their projectiles fired from their cartridges by means of intentional failure and runaway. They careened toward Veig at twenty-four times the speed of sound, difficult even for him to follow. However… «Oh, sorry ’bout that. Okay—the really impossible part.» …just as Veig’s ironic voice boomed through, their bullets, which had been striking him with relentless accuracy, whiffed for the first time. And Veig’s slash flashed with movement even Til couldn’t follow: «Can ya own up to your trick for responding without reacting?» Sora and Shiro’s mech demi-shifted to evade and open up the distance with ease. Veig darted through their immediate return fire. The wild cycle of evasion and engagement continued. Feeling Sora’s and Shiro’s backs grow ever farther away, Til pondered, her expression growing increasingly gloomy. —How did they dodge these attacks? —How did they land these shots? They couldn’t see what was going on. They couldn’t even react. Even Sora and Shiro were just humans. But Til could answer her own question. She knew all the answers. —They weren’t dodging. They just weren’t where Veig would attack. —They weren’t landing shots. Veig just happened to be where their bullets would fly. It was more or less sophistry, playing with words—but that was the nature of their trick. They couldn’t act or react fast enough. So Til had fulfilled their order. «—Damn you… You’re movin’ before you move, aren’t ya?» Yes—a paradoxical feeling had led that arrogant voice to point it right out. Til had built them joysticks that let them input commands in advance. So how had they evaded Veig’s first strike? Veig had announced he’d attack. As of the moment before that, they’d already performed the input to shift out of the way, turn to where Veig would be, and fire… That was all. But even now, they remained toe-to-toe with the strong, continuing to anticipate the future again and again. They saw a different future from that which Veig saw only as a hunch, a superior future. No, they didn’t just see it—they remade it every time. Was that just a trick? Were they just weak humans…? She couldn’t see what they saw. She couldn’t even imagine it. Most of all— «In that case, all I have to do is move with the assumption you’ll read me, yeah?!» “Spoken like an OP scrub, all right!! Damn it—shit’s gonna get real now. You ready, Shiro?!” “…Mm…! Cancel that move…! Brother, use…your adrenaline dodge!” —their input queues drew on Shiro’s calculation and Sora’s finesse, prediction and leading, tactics and strategy. With all of these working together, they were just barely able to stay ahead of the game. But now that the cat was out of the bag, if they ever lost the initiative…it would be too late for them to do anything. But Til most of all found herself unable to understand the emotions of Sora and Shiro that came through the catalysts as she gazed at their backs… In the midst of the utmost tension and panic, they seemed to be having the time of their lives. Their hearts burned with a joy that was above all that, played on top of all that. …Suddenly, Til felt their backs getting away from her. And there, in what was supposed to be a small cockpit— —she saw it…the high, blue sky. That very sky…she’d seen as a child. That…very sky…she’d stopped seeing, at some point… At that sky…where the two in the same cockpit, with the same cores, controlling the same machine were not…Til finally looked down…with a smile of resignation…and grasped it. Just as Sora said, she wasn’t even the lowest… Those two really had flown… That white-winged bird in that black sky. If to be able to do such things, to be able to reach such heights was what it meant to be weak, then it was true that natural gifts could never be overcome…including the natural gift of being weak. She grasped that the top and the bottom alike…lay far, far away from her… «Well—that leaves just one more impossible, don’t it…?» The resounding transmission continued, and the feeling of the crack running through her core, too, felt far away…as did the mech which, hit by the iron fist that had finally caught up with Sora and Shiro’s piloting, fell to the ground. “Aaagh… Neverrr… I’ll never accept your boobular fascismmm!!” “…B-Brother…I—I…really…can’t have…boobs?!” As did the voices of Sora and Shiro, resisting Veig’s glandular ideology. Everything, even the cockpit screen showing Veig’s machine looking down at them, even the question he asked…seemed far away… «…If you can do that much…why’d ya run…?» …His question was clear-cut, free of rebuke or blame or even despair. But Til certainly couldn’t answer that, nor could anyone else— Then. «Damn you… We were havin’ a moment there. Ain’cha ever heard of tact, ya bloody…» Again with a hunch—Veig anticipated the blast that hurtled forth at almost light speed. Grumbling at that soul which made him depressed just to remember it, that soul which therefore had to be dodged, he slid one small, unruffled step to the side. «Anyway, you ain’t even got anything to do with this… I get what you’re trying to say— Wha…?!» Or he tried, but it came anyway, leaving behind sound, light, everything. Undeniable—infinite in speed—it transcended space and arrived with a shock wave that flattened the surroundings. It was a direct hit, right in his mech’s chest, knocking him hundreds of meters— «…Oh. I see, a demi-shift shot… Right, an Elf can demi-shift without an anchor… Yeah, a grub like me could never come up with ideas like— Hey, whaaa…?!» —and yet it didn’t seem to be enough to break his core, his spirit. «Damn bitches, gimme a break, will ya?! I’ll beat ya to a pulp, ya shiiits!» Veig recovered from his depression in a moment and dodged the second shot. He blew his top high enough to bust through the ceiling, and then glanced at Sora and Shiro’s machine, which had managed to get up in the brief interval. «……Oh… That’s how it is…? You bitches are a decoy…» His voice— «Guess I gotta go crush them before I listen to your soul, huh?» —sounded as if he had seen through everything. He scoffed. «All right. You can play with these babies. I’ll be back in a minute.» Leaving behind countless curved blades to attack Sora, Shiro, and Til as well as blue light, Veig leaped away. And far, far, away, the golem decorated with countless flowers by now was not bothering to hide. The Holy Forge that pierced the skyless heavens at her back, the pilot, Chlammy, tutted once and pondered. The demi-shift shot… That had been their third trump card—and a very risky one, the kind that had to finish the opponent off if one were to survive afterward. Of course. The moment the opponent knew they had a shot that was more or less undodgeable, they themselves would become the top-priority target… And then— —this is what would happen. Just as the blades flew, the sleek silver frame appeared from thin air, an enemy superior to them in both specs and technique. «…Ho there, fockin’ titwads. I got a promise to be back in a minute, so, sorry—die right here, right now.» Chlammy chuckled to her backseat companion. “…Fi? If we go head-to-head with that thing…how much chance do we stand?” “Why, it’s not even a conteeest. We’re trapped, true to the deal…” They’d rather it not be the case, but it was a cold, hard fact. Fi answered despondently, and Chlammy nodded back. Yes—trapped. Checkmate. They’d known: That silver frame, that monster—was some bullshit that spelled doom if they let it close. That was why Sora and Shiro had agreed to provide a diversion until they lost… That was the condition of cooperation. That was the deal. And Sora and Shiro, believe it or not, had actually followed through. Now Chlammy and Fiel’s chance had crumbled. They had lost. And that was what would lead to Sora and Shiro’s victory…!! ……But— “Fi… It’s all right… I won’t lie to myself anymore…” —Chlammy uttered something so contrary to reason. Yes—the two who had said they could go for the win had made it so much fun… All right then. With that, they had no regrets!! “I won’t make you lie anymore, either. From now on—I won’t fear you, Fi…” Yes—after all, Fi had told her that any Chlammy was the real Chlammy whom she loved. “Any Fi…is the Fi I love!! So—answer with your heart!!” Fi opened her eyes wide and smiled from ear to ear. It wasn’t too late “If we go at it with all we’ve got—we’re not done yet, are weeee?!” “Why, of—course—nottt! It’s the showdown—let’s see what we have!” They called a little early—as their fourth trump card raced through their bodies. …Yes…Fi released the power from the two rites she’d been expending on sealing off her emotions so as not to scare Chlammy— «?!» —and right then, from the machine before Veig’s eyes, Fi’s feelings expanded in the manner of a detonation. That instant, Veig lost his composure and reflexively jumped backward into a defensive stance. …Meanwhile, link tattoos glowed all over Chlammy’s and Fiel’s bodies. They sped up time within their bodies so that Veig’s movement felt to them terribly slow as their golem positioned its sniper cannon at its hip. The feeling unleashed like a vortex was not malice, not bloodlust, and certainly not malignance. It went over a line that should not be crossed—a third line, which should never be crossed. It was a pure offering, gushing forth from every corner of Fiel’s heart.