“Your battery is about to run out,” Kei said confidently. And he was right. The battery indicator on Brave’s visor was flashing.
Kei continued to provoke him.
“You can be the first victim. No, you’re not the first, are you? Some people in the Empire have already died.”
Brave snapped.
“Shut up! Don’t mock their deaths!”
“Their deaths? Who cares about death? Death is just skipping a single stage of events.”
Brave was serious, but Kei’s tone was light and mocking.
“What are you talking about? When people die, they’re not around anymore!” he yelled. But Kei’s attitude didn’t change.
“You do understand. That’s right. Unless you understand death the way I do, you’ll never understand the beautiful destruction I seek.”
“...Beautiful destruction? That’s bullshit!”
“The Demon King is...”
This time, Kei didn’t try to dodge Brave’s charge. He just raised his right hand. And then fired a mana ball with incredible strength. This was just when Brave’s battery ran out.
“!”
Brave took the mana ball head on. His mana canceler failed, and he was forced to face its full impact. There was the sound of an explosion. Brave fell from the sky, smoke trailing after him.
“The Demon King is what will bring death to all life in this world.”
He smirked as he looked down at the falling Brave. But just when Brave was about to splash into the sea...
“Switching to autonomous mode,” the Brave suit said. The lights on his visor came back on.
“It only comes on when the battery runs out...? Is this thing defective?” Hiroshi muttered to himself.
The Brave suit was absorbing the shock, but if Hiroshi hadn’t used his own mana to block, he would’ve died instantly.
“Micronuclear Reactor temperature stable. No radiation leak detected.”
“So this is the extra functionality that got added, huh?”
An internal micronuclear reactor. That was what was keeping Brave alive. It was the secret weapon that Kento had given him.
“What happened?” Kei said as he watched Brave’s plunge come to an abrupt halt.
“I’m still in the game!”
Brave flew back upward.
○
But Brave had other enemies.
“Stop it! Are you just a machine that exists to kill the Demon King?!”
“Demon king or not, he’s protecting us now!”
He could hear someone screaming at him from the mana screen he was monitoring. Yuko was watching the same screen.
“What’s going on?” Yuko said, looking at the screen, half-terrified.
The people in the Imperial Capital’s refugee camps were watching Kei fight on their monitors, and screaming. They were packed tightly into the evacuation center, but all of them were far more concerned with the fate of the Empire than their own plight.
“He’s fighting the Republic, so even if he’s a demon king, he’s OUR Demon King,” Yoshie said, sighing.
“But...!” Yuko screamed, but Yoshie just shook her head.
“Everything’s going just the way that new demon king wants it to. If the Empire gets the Faceless Power, they’ll want revenge. And they’ll probably do what Kei tells them to.”
Yuko’s blood ran cold.
“What exactly does he want to do?”
“That’s a good question... If we take him at his word, he wants ‘a beautiful destruction.’”
Yoshie was never perturbed by anything, but Yuko felt something cold run down her spine too.
“Beautiful destruction...”
“If he doesn’t mean destruction in the true sense, then it makes the question I had more plausible... My question, you see, is about the fictional nature of death in this world.”
From her expression, Yuko could tell that this wasn’t just one of her usual fancy speeches. There was a deeper meaning. If she was bringing the subject up now, no matter how strange it may seem, it must have had something to do with what they were discussing.
“The fictional... nature of death? Do you mean death isn’t real?” Yuko asked. Yoshie nodded.
“The existence of VPS. The existence of the Faceless Power. And then there’s Keina, who came out of nowhere and then disappeared. All of this indicates that we exist in some type of phase space accessible from the outside.”
Yuko didn’t understand what she was saying.
“W-What...? So death isn’t real, and other worlds exist? I don’t understand at all.”
Yoshie put her finger on her chin in thought, and then tried framing it another way.
“I’m talking about the afterlife. What if the things we call heaven and hell are real? And then the world we live in now is a lie. Maybe it doesn’t matter if you live or die. The technology to travel through time, as well as the existence of gods from the outer universe hint at something... What if all life in this world was fictional? That would explain everything.’
“B-But we’re living! We’re suffering! Right now!” Yuko shouted.
Yoshie nodded silently.
“We’re each independent. We each have our own thoughts. So the world exists. But we can’t deny the possibility that the world is fictional. Unless we face death, as death...”
“I’m totally lost... What are you saying?”
“I’ll explain the rest.”
Yoshie and Yuko turned around, and saw that the speaker was Fujiko Eto. She’d gone off on her own. If she’d come back, that meant..
“I went back to the land where the Demon King was born.”
○
It was well-known that Fujiko was researching information about Black Mages. But even though Fujiko had thought she’d prepared for any contingency, she’d found a secret that even she couldn’t believe. It was the reason the Demon King was born as a weapon. And the true nature of the world.
The key to the black mage traditions that Issei Suzuki had given her had teleported her to a secret lab deep within what appeared to be a jungle. The lab clearly predated the empire’s creation. It was an ancient building made from rotting concrete.
There was a sign on the entrance that read “_____ labs”, the name being impossible to make out. Someone had scratched it off.
—A lab... But it predates the Empire...
Fujiko became suspicious. Any labs dating from the time of the first development of magic would be old. But this place seemed too old. The most they could’ve done here was work on basic theories.
Fujiko went inside.
The lab was still in good order. There were rows of computers, and cardboard boxes stacked in various places. It looked like someone was about to move. But it was still ancient. The years and the plants from the jungle outside had done their work on the structure, and it felt like simply touching something would cause it to fall apart. When she went to open the top of a nearby cardboard box, the whole lid ripped off in her hands.
Inside, there were old papers.
The papers were in bad enough shape that she was reluctant to try and peel each piece apart, but she could still make out the words on the first page. It was a document having to do with early research into magic. Something involving nanomachines.
“So this was where the very first wave of research was performed, then...”
Fujiko went deeper into the facility, opening boxes as she went. She didn’t find anything useful, but at the very deepest part, she came to what looked like the director’s office. And there, she found a journal.
It was a black leather binder, with a sizable amount of pages. If this belonged to the director, he’d been keeping it for a long time. But when she glanced through it, she could see that he’d been doing more than just recording the days events. It was the musings of the director, who’d been grappling with a certain doubt. Specifically, that doubt was...
—A fictional world?
This research would undoubtedly bring happiness to later generations. But at the same time, that happiness depended on a certain falsehood. The results of the research performed at this facility was proof of that.
As she read the rest of the book, her body began to break out in a cold sweat.
Summarized, the contents were as follows.
“Many people have wondered if the world was fictional. For example, you may know that you exist, but perhaps the rest of the world is just an illusion. But there’s a clear response to that argument. The existence of other people. If you exist, then you must admit the existence of other people who think, and exist, as well. If you accept the death of others as equivalent to your own death, then you know that even if someone dies, the world remains.”
“So, even if you die, the world will continue on. But there is one thing that you cannot prove or disprove. What if this whole world is somebody’s dream? There’s no clear answer to that question. You can hypothesize that this world was made by god, or perhaps a story dreamt up by an author. But it’s impossible to prove the existence of god, or an author, from within the world.”
“Except, that has now changed.”
—Unbelievable... If this is true...
Fujiko shivered. The world was fictional. That was the answer the research described in this journal had come to. It said “If someone went to the afterlife and came back, they could prove that this world is fictional.”
The conclusion wasn’t spine-chilling, so much as it was maddening.
To die and come back... To “resurrect.” That concept was present in every religion ever to exist. Perhaps by believing in resurrection, people instinctively realized that they could make the world into fiction.
If the person who died and came back had the same mind, then you could prove the world after death existed. And if there existed a world after death, it meant that someone existed outside this world.
That being would be a god, in the true sense. A god of the outer world. If resurrection was true, then perhaps this world was a lie.
A fictional world created by this outer god.
The journal spent many pages discussing how to prove the world after death existed, but this next line was the only one that mattered.
Subject 1 went to the afterlife and returned, and for this reason he is called the Demon King.
—Of course, Akuto died... and was reborn! So the first demon king also...
Fujiko remembered what had happened then, and shuddered even more.
She read more of the journal. The lab director’s thoughts had begun to move in a direction that she hadn’t anticipated.