“A stowaway?”
Percival Gardner looked up to see that her immediate superior, Haruka Amagiri, seemed slightly troubled.
The Lindvolus was over, and the officers at Stjarnagarm finally had a chance to take a breather. But that wasn’t to say that Asterisk was free of trouble. Percival was still a rookie officer, but she was sent out into the field seemingly every day and had returned to headquarters now only for a quick meal.
But as far as Percival was concerned, the busier she was, the less time she had to be worried by stray thoughts.
“Right, a stowaway. This kind of thing’s pretty rare, but, well, we’re dealing with a minor here. She wasn’t carrying any form of ID, and she won’t tell us her name or what happened to her, either.”
Haruka was now considered the second most capable officer in the force after Helga Lindwall, though you wouldn’t guess it at first glance due to her calm and gentle demeanor. Of course, anyone with the right training would recognize her for what she was. In any event, she was always relaxed—a sight that made Percival realize what it meant to possess real strength.
Calm, gentle, direct, and strong—the polar opposite of herself.
“But…there was a number, tattooed into her right shoulder.”
“…!”
At these next words, Percival leaped up with a jolt, almost falling from her chair.
That sounded just like the serial number that had once emblazoned Percival’s right shoulder, proof that she had formerly belonged to the Institute.
“…I understand. I’ll take her statement.”
“Thank you. I’ll inform the commander and have her leave this in your hands.”
“Understood.”
Normally, such serial numbers were erased at the time of shipment. And besides shipment, there was only one other way out of the Institute.
Disposal.
Percival clenched her teeth as she marched briskly through the corridors of Stjarnagarm’s headquarters.
After the Golden Noontide, Percival had been required to undergo an extensive period of hospitalization. Her mind, manipulated by the Varda-Vaos, had needed considerable time to recover, and even now, she still occasionally had flashbacks to the days she’d spent under its influence.
Yes, unlike with Ursula Svend, whose consciousness had been completely hijacked by the Varda-Vaos, Percival’s memories remained intact. As if she would never be permitted to escape the truth of what she had been trying to accomplish, nor the gravity of her sins.
Thanks to the integrated enterprise foundations’ desire to keep everything secret, the strong evidence of intense brainwashing, and some personal intervention from Claudia Enfield at Seidoukan Academy, Percival had been conditionally exempted from any form of punishment. But that wasn’t to say that she had been forgiven for her actions. And more importantly, she couldn’t forgive herself.
Unable to stay at Gallardworth, she decided to drop out, though her friends did everything they could to stop her. That was when Helga, the commander at Stjarnagarm, reached out to her.
If, Helga told her, she wanted to atone for her sins, what better way could there be than to protect this city and its people? Those words had brought Percival to Stjarnagarm, and she had remained with the police force ever since.
In retrospect, the integrated enterprise foundations were probably happy with this arrangement, as it would enable them to keep a close eye on her future activities. While Helga’s dislike of the IEFs was well known, the organizations themselves seemed to think highly of her, though they were sometimes frustrated by her actions.
Still, no matter how hard she pushed herself as part of the city guard, Percival still hadn’t been able to forgive herself. Perhaps she never would.
Even if—
“…”
As she turned over these thoughts in her mind, she realized that her feet had already delivered her to the door leading into the interrogation room.
Putting her mind in order, she knocked, then turned the handle.
“Oh…”
Inside was a young girl, standing in the middle of the room despite the supplied chair.
No sooner had she laid eyes on Percival than she cowered, retreating fearfully to the back of the room. Her dull gray hair was disheveled, her dress dirty. It was clear at first glance that she had no one else to defend her. She looked to be around twelve or thirteen years old.
“Hmm…?”
Percival felt a strange sense of incongruity as she watched her.
The girl stiffened, shrinking back.
What’s this…?
She hadn’t been able to believe it, but there could be no mistake.
“One-one-five-seven-three-three-nine-four,” she began.
“…Huh?”
“That was my serial number, when I was there.”
“…!”
The girl stared back at her, wide-eyed.
“Won’t you talk to me for a minute?” Percival suggested, offering her a chair.
The girl hesitated for a moment before accepting the invitation. After that gesture, she seemed to open her heart ever so slightly.
“…So why did you come to this city?” Percival asked bluntly.
There was no point in asking her name or age. What she needed to know was her intentions.
“I—I… They didn’t need me anymore… Th-they said I wasn’t n-necessary anymore, that I couldn’t be of any further use… So before they could dispose of me, I… I—I was desperate to escape…” The girl spoke falteringly, her voice thin and trembling. “I…I don’t really know where it was…but I saw a city…with, er… A Festa? A Lindvolus? Anyway, I saw a video of it…and it was so, so beautiful… I—I…I wanted to go there…! S-so…!”
Before Percival knew it, the girl was leaning forward in her chair, pouring her heart out.
“Oh…!”
Perhaps having noticed her own excitement, the girl blushed, looking down at the floor in embarrassment as she pulled back.
“…I see. In that case, I have one more question,” Percival asked quietly, her eyes narrowed. “Are you hiding your true strength?”
“…!”
The girl swallowed.
There could be no doubt about it. Percival’s eyes would have seen through any attempt at falsehood. The girl was concealing immense power. In all likelihood, she was just as strong as Percival herself. Otherwise, there was no way she would have been able to escape from the Institute.
And if she was that capable, there was no way that the Institute would have disposed of her. Deceiving the staff there would have required a great deal of determination and ingenuity.
In other words, she had chosen the path of disposal for herself.
“H-how…? N-no one ever saw through me before…” The girl was staring straight at Percival with a bewildered look.
“Why did you hide it?” Percival asked.
Then, staring at the ground, the girl answered in a small, mosquito-like voice: “B-because…I—I was scared…”
“Scared…? Of your own powers?”
The girl responded with a robotic nod.
There was clearly a contradiction here. Afraid of exercising her own abilities, yet longing for the stage of the Festa and wishing to enter it for herself.
But Percival understood her painfully well.
Not everyone was capable of coming to terms with their feelings and desires. There were those who found themselves unable to choose, never able to abandon one desire to pursue another.
“I understand. Now, for my last question.” Percival paused for a moment. “What do you want to do now?”
The girl looked away, her jaw clenched as though she was holding back her words. Finally, after a short silence, she shook her head and looked up, filled with determination. “I—I…I want to be in the Festa!” she said firmly.
“Very well. In that case, I can help you.”
“Huh…?”
As Percival held out her right hand, the girl’s eyes widened in surprise.
To her, Percival was little more than an officer of Stjarnagarm, a figure whom she had only just met. She didn’t even know her name.
Besides, Percival didn’t even have the authority to do this. While Haruka might have let her conduct the questioning here, the promise she’d just made clearly transcended the scope of her duties. Depending on how things ended up, she might earn herself more than just a simple rebuke or admonishment.
Maybe she was just compensating. Perhaps she was trying to make amends by helping this girl because she had been unable to save her own friends.
That said, this was the first step that she had taken on her own. It wasn’t Subject #11573394 at the Institute who was extending her hand here, nor Agrestia wielding the Holy Grail, nor even an officer of Stjarnagarm—it was Percival Gardner herself.
“…”
The girl stared at the proffered hand for a moment, then, timidly, she reached out to accept it.
Her hand was small, but warm.
As Percival held on with her right hand, she used her left one to open an air-window. The fact that the girl had escaped from the Institute meant that she had no name, nationality, or anything else. At this rate, she would probably end up in a facility where there was a ninety percent chance she would be preyed on by other children. There may have been plenty of good people in this world, but the kind who flocked to foundling children were usually the bad ones.
It would take a great deal of effort to keep that from happening.
What the girl needed wasn’t the power of an individual, but that of an organization.
“…This is a surprise. I wouldn’t have expected you to call me, Gardner.”
The face in the air-window was that of Elliot Forster, Gallardworth’s highest-ranked pupil and student council president. It had been ages since Percival had last seen him, and he looked to have grown—he was taller now, an imposing representative of Saint Gallardworth Academy.
“It’s been a while, Percival.”
Standing by Elliot’s side was his girlfriend, Noelle Messmer.
Just as the girl had, Percival made up her mind and bowed her head to the two figures in the air-window.
“I’m sorry for coming to you so suddenly, but I have a favor to ask… Will you help me?”