Chapter 33

CHAPTER TWO Stand Back, Prisoner. Some time before the girl met the Demon Lord in Yokohama… A few hours after Veltol and Takahashi were captured in the warehouse, Hizuki Reynard-Yamada was in trouble. She was in a cheap hotel in Goar. Machina’s room. They had booked one room for Veltol and Machina, and another for Takahashi and Hizuki. Hizuki sat down on the bed and looked at the person beside her. “O-ohhhh…” Her friend, Machina, was wailing and sobbing. The reason? “Lawd Veltowl… Why diyou leave me behind…?” Her lord’s disappearance. A few hours prior, they’d received a message on their Familia from his tablet: “I’m going to Yokohama with Takahashi. Machina, I leave Hijiki in your care. Do as you see fit.” That was it. No further explanation. “Geez, stop crying already…” Hizuki held Machina close and patted her head. Machina buried her face in Hizuki’s chest, clinging to her and sobbing. Machina looked Hizuki’s age, perhaps even one or two years younger, but she was an immortal—she had lived far longer. Hizuki had only known about immortals from books, so they didn’t feel real. Doubly so when she saw one in this state. But after what happened in the two Akihabara factions and the short time she had spent with Machina and Veltol ever since, Hizuki came to recognize that the pair really was immortal. “Also, you’re not worried about Takahashi at all?” Hizuki asked. “Huh? I’m sure she’ll be fine with Lord Veltol by her side…” Machina raised her head. Her tears and runny nose were no more, and she wore a blank expression. “Wow, that was fast. Creepy.” Hizuki had heard about Veltol, Machina, and the immortals, including about how Machina had waited five hundred years for Veltol’s revival. Her reaction makes sense, considering the person she spent five centuries waiting for went away again…I guess? Hizuki was a half-elf with a human father and an elf mother. She had a longer life span than humans but a shorter one than elves. She was still very much a mortal and was still in her teens. The City Wars and the Fantasion were far-off history to begin with—she couldn’t grasp the scale of five hundred years. “Veltol didn’t leave you behind because you drag him down or because he doesn’t like you,” Hizuki said, gently rubbing Machina’s back. “I’m sure he saw an opportunity to sneak into Yokohama and didn’t have much time, so he decided it’d be better to go in with fewer numbers. I think Takahashi can do a good job supporting him.” “Ohhhh… I know… I know that, Hizuki… Takahashi has talent I lack, and she’d be of great help, and I realize veeeeery well that Lord Veltol made the rational choice… But still! I can understand the logic—but it still hurts! Uwuwuwu…” “There, there… First time I ever heard someone cry like uwuwuwu…” Hizuki patted Machina’s head again as the immortal cried into her chest. “This might actually be my fault,” Hizuki added. Machina raised her head. “What do you mean?” “I mean, I’ve nothing to do with your goals, right? The only reason a stranger like me is with you is to get closer to my goals, so there’s no reason for him to take me with them, is there? And even if I went with them, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I had to stay behind, and I needed someone to babysit me… In which case, that would mean Veltol didn’t take you along because of me.” “That’s not true,” Machina assured her. “You’re not to blame for this whatsoever.” “But—” “Of this I’m sure. For starters, you’re not a stranger. You’re one of us. It’s only natural for us to assist you with your goals. And you shouldn’t feel in debt because of that. We’re doing it because we want to.” “…” Honest eyes. Honest words. Hizuki couldn’t speak. She wasn’t used to such frank, direct remarks and feelings. She looked away, like always. She couldn’t be sincere. She lied even to herself. This was the most she could do at the moment: “Thanks…” Machina smiled, satisfied by that answer. “If you say I’m not a stranger…then I want to do something for you, too.” It pained Hizuki how weak she was. So… “I want to be stronger. I want to be able to fight…at least enough not to get in the way.” “Shall we do the usual, then?” “Yeah… Please.” Hizuki and Machina stood before each other in a white space with black lines in a grid. Hizuki held a sword, while Machina was barehanded. Their clothing remained the same. Hizuki swung down her sword to slash Machina into two, but it did not reach her. She was sure it would hit, yet she only cut the air. “Agh…!” She aimed for her neck from a low stance, but Machina dodged it within a hairsbreadth. Hizuki knew she wouldn’t hit her by swinging aimlessly, so she restrained her every movement for the sake of the one slash. She stepped her left foot forward for a feint, aiming for the neck from the right… “Ah.” Machina grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm so she dropped the sword. She swept her off her feet, and Hizuki spun once in the air before crashing to the floor. “Gweh!” She coughed and instinctively shut her eyes. When she opened them, Machina was holding the sword and pointing its tip at her. Now’s the time… Defeat was absent from Hizuki’s eyes as she stared at the blade’s point. But then she was stabbed in the face. “Training program over.” Hizuki was logged out as soon as she heard the artificial spirit’s mechanical voice. “Gaaah! I can’t wiiiin!” she screamed, arms held up to the ceiling as she lay on the same bed in the same room of the same hotel. Hizuki had been training with Machina occasionally. She felt she needed strength to fight, more than anything, in order to accomplish her goals. Takahashi had given her—whether legally or illegally, she didn’t ask—a combat training program that used virtual space on the aethernet. “I can’t be beaten by a teenage girl now, can I?” Machina said to Hizuki. “Ugh… This won’t be easy. But, well, it’s amazing we can just practice anywhere, huh?” “Bless Takahashi’s soul. I think this is a military simulator.” “Should we be using it…?” “If Takahashi said we can, then it’s fine. It is incredibly convenient. What better place to train a soldier than in cyberspace? Although, keep in mind that this is merely an elaborate simulator, not real combat.” “Real combat…,” Hizuki repeated as she touched the Familia on her nape. Her mana reserve had been depleted following recent events, and she could use only the basic functions of her Familia until recently. It was a blessing and a great outlet for stress that she could now use programs like this that ate mana up. She turned to Machina’s bed and saw her face from up close. How do you get to be this cute? Hizuki was aware of her own good looks, but even so, she was overwhelmed by Machina’s breathtaking beauty. Machina sat up. “You have improved considerably, I will say.” “Really?!” Hizuki opened her eyes wide, still lying down. “I’m strong now?!” “No.” “Oh…” “I’m serious. Perhaps you’d be able to beat a girl your age, but you don’t have hope against the lowest thugs you’d find on the street.” “That bad…?” “Don’t worry about it. That is only natural. No one… Well, none but the very select few can become strong overnight. I wasn’t so different from you.” “Wow. I figured you were strong from birth.” “No way. Even dragons need to be protected when they are babies. Not to mention I was a hick from the sticks.” “Hick from the sticks…” “I never fought before becoming an immortal.” Hizuki felt like she was finally grasping Machina’s strength that seemed so vague even after their training. But she had only arrived at the foot of the mountain that was Machina and gotten a sense of its scale—the peak was still far beyond her sight. “In any case, I’m well aware now that I can’t beat a veteran.” “Knowing the extent of your power is very important. But I don’t think it’s very fruitful to always practice with swords… It’d be more efficient to try your hand at magic or shooting.” “I practice magic here and there… No guns, though. And I do swords…because I think they’re cool. They’re like the symbol of strength for me.” Hizuki wasn’t lying. Machina placed her hands on the bed on either side of Hizuki’s face, getting on top of her. Her long hair draped down as her crimson eyes gazed deep into Hizuki’s. “Hizuki, are you hiding something?” “Huh?” “You showed no resignation even as I showed you my power a moment before your defeat. Your hostility remained even as you knew the difference in power between us. That is something those with an ace up their sleeve do. And your failure to hide this reinforces how amateurish you still are.” “Man, you’re incredible… You can tell that much.” “It’s just experience. I am an immortal, after all.” “Umm, but…” “But?” “Assuming I have an ace up my sleeve, a secret technique or whatever, should I tell you guys?” “Huh? As you see fit. You don’t have to tell us.” Machina got away from Hizuki. “R-really?” Hizuki said. “I mean, I haven’t told you all of my secrets, have I?” “I…guess…” “As allies, it’s important for us to know each other’s capabilities. But there’s no need to know everything about each other. You can save it for whenever you think is the time.” Machina’s voice was gentle in her lecture. “Information is the most important thing in magic battle, even more than mana. Strategies become easier to devise when you have a hold of your opponent’s powers. If I were to know your secret, and someone read my mind with magic, that could be fatal to you. So you don’t have to tell me.” “I’d rather the right time never comes… Machina, do you have a mentor? Is it Veltol?” “A mentor? No, Lord Veltol didn’t give me much guidance. If anything, I would say my mentor is…Lady Sihlwald.” “The Dark Peer we’re here for, right? So this Sihlwald is strong?” “Yes, perhaps superior to Lord Veltol and Sir Zenol in hand-to-hand combat. The gap is so big, I would say I learned from the sheer number of defeats I experienced.” “Stronger than Veltol?!” “Under certain circumstances. The Six Dark Peers are immortals who have surpassed Lord Veltol in some skill or another.” “Wow, and that includes you? What’s your talent?” “That’s…a secret.” Machina placed her index finger in front of her lips and winked. “You set me up…” “Hee-hee. It is my trump card, after all. Lord Veltol used to shower me with praise for it back in the day. Ahhh… What could he be doing right now…? And Takahashi, too.” Hizuki got the signal that Machina’s mood was crumbling again. “Yeah, I wonder what they’re up to… I hope Takahashi’s all right.” “She should be. Lord Veltol is with her.” Hizuki figured Machina must have been right, as she’d known Takahashi for longer. “Okay, I’ll go back to my room now,” Hizuki said as she stood up. “Get some sleep, okay?” “I will. Good night, Hizuki.” After leaving the room, Hizuki headed to the 24-hour shop at the hotel entranceway to get something to eat. The lobby wasn’t big, and there was only one reception magiroid and a couple sitting on the sofas facing each other. “FEMU, huh…? That’s one big job,” the man said. “It’s all thanks to the contacts I made at my previous employer,” the woman replied. “You’ve got contacts in dangerous places… So, what’s your plan? The mission sounds pretty hard. You think you have a shot?” “You’re the one who should have a shot. It’s your job.” “Mine?!” “I secure the gigs, and you carry them out. Simple, yes? We’re always short on resources, and I have to take care of the rest of the business. This is the least you can do.” “I might as well quit!” “We’re only short on resources because you help people without monetizing the situation.” “I…I apologize for that, but c’mon…” They seemed to be having a work chat. Hizuki had nothing to do with it, so she ignored the pair and walked over to the shop. Back in Yokohama’s lower stratum, the moment Veltol and Takahashi met Aoba 100F after she was arrested and sentenced. The members of Team 045 finished introducing themselves, while Aoba 100F remained befuddled. First astonishing factor: Veltol. He was tall. Like, two heads taller than she was. That had to be against the men’s height code. He is a man…right? She wasn’t sure, because his hair was exceedingly long. Set aside the men’s hair code, this was against the women’s hair code. His awfully good looks also made her doubt he was a man for a second. His way of speaking was quite idiosyncratic, too. “Hey, you’re scaring the poor girl with your gigantic size, Velly.” The girl who introduced herself as Takahashi elbowed Veltol’s side. Aoba 100F had never heard of identifiers like “Veltol” or “Takahashi.” “You misunderstand. She is simply in awe of my might.” “I really don’t think that’s what’s going on here… Also, I forgot to mention it until now, but I’m shocked you can speak Japanese.” “Ha. Who do you take me for? I eat languages for breakfast.” “Well, I know that you only learned it to play untranslated Japanese games…but it’s still amazing. That way we can talk with folks like these who can’t speak elvish.” “Cough, cough!” The old man on the lower bunk bed got into a coughing fit and curled up into a ball. His name was Izumi 012M. He had trouble speaking, so Veltol had introduced him. Takahashi walked up to Izumi 012M and rubbed his back. “Whoa there, Gramps, you okay?” “Yes, I’m fine, cough, cough! Sorry, Takahashi…Veltol…” “Do not worry about it, sir.” “Thank you,” Izumi 012M said between coughs. Aoba 100F and these three were the prisoners of Cell 045—Team 045. Wh-what is it with these people? Aoba 100F wondered. Nothing strange about Izumi 012M. The old man was probably headed for the re-service area, due to old age getting in the way of his contributions, but he was a regular citizen. Veltol and Takahashi were clearly different. “Anywho.” Takahashi turned to look at Aoba 100F. “I’m so glad we got another girl. Being the only one is kinda awkward. Weird that the cells aren’t divided by gender, right? What with the one open-space toilet in the room and stuff. The digs here suck, but it’s nice to meetcha.” “Th-the pleasure is mine…” Takahashi’s smile was so bright, Aoba 100F had to squint. Takahashi’s hair length was within the code, but it had one streak of red. Aoba 100F wondered for a moment whether that was against the code, but no, length was the only thing it established. “Umm, and what’s your name?” “Huh?! Name…? You mean my identifier? Aoba 100F…” “Aoba…One-Oh-Oh-Eff…,” Takahashi mumbled, with her arms crossed and head tilted. “Everyone here’s got weird names, huh? ’Kay, I’ll call you ‘Aoba.’ Way cuter.” “Huh?” Aoba 100F—Aoba—grew wide-eyed at Takahashi’s remark. “B-but then how will you tell me apart from the other Aobas…?” The names—identifiers—of Yokohama’s citizens were composed of one of eighteen designations, three numbers, and one of two letters. After one fell to the lower stratum, a new individual with the same identifier was replenished to the upper stratum. As a result, there were multiple people with the same identifier in the lower stratum. “Don’t worry. You’re the only Aoba to me. Got it?” “O-okay…” She was sociable and had a bright voice and look on her face. Everyone on the upper stratum was also a “nice person,” but Aoba felt this was different. “This will be your bed.” Veltol pointed at the one before her. “You’re under Takahashi. Have her teach you how to fold the sheets. They check them.” “Y-yeshh.” “To think Velly would really follow the rules and make his bed…” “Ha. I esteem order above everything. I follow the rules a prisoner must follow. Not to mention, nothing beats the joy of finding a hole in the rules to break them.” “You’re talking about games again?” Aoba walked up to the bed to grab the sheets and found a book on top of it. A book she could recite from memory. The compilation of the Progenitor’s teachings. The Canon. On its spine was one of its verses—words of salvation. Let there be peace in the world. “Wake-up is at five. Keep breakfast short, because we must be at the church by six, and they won’t feed us if we arrive late.” Veltol offered Aoba this warning while eating a ration bar. “Y-yesh!” A soft bell’s melody woke her up back in the upper stratum, but the alarm in the prison was shrill and earsplitting. Aoba ate the same thing in a hurry. Saba unlike anything she had seen in the upper stratum. The cell teams took turns distributing the saba to all others. There were far more prisoners than officers, so it inevitably had to be part of their prison service. They were provided three saba: morning at the cell, noon at the service workshop, and evening at the dining hall. Morning saba was only this solid bar and a cup of aqa. “A dazzling beauty like me will slim down to nothing if this’s the only thing we can eat,” said Takahashi. “When I first heard them say saba, I thought they meant the mackerel fish… Is this like sanmamen without the sanma?” Aoba had no idea what she was talking about. The ration bar was a bit sweet, so not bad, but it was so dry, it felt like it would take away all her mouth’s moisture, and gulping it down was a trial. “Cough, cough!” “Gramps! Don’t try to wolf it down all at once!” “Ahh… Sorry…” “C’mon, no need to apologize.” “Six o’clock is prayer time. Not that I know who or what we’re praying to.” Veltol said this as if he couldn’t care less. Inside the grounds at the prison’s south, mechanical torii gates lined up. The chapel beyond them was of far poorer quality than that in the upper stratum. Izumi 012M didn’t attend. He was too old to walk this much. He wouldn’t take part in the service work afterward, either. Halfway through the way to the chapel, Takahashi tugged on Aoba’s uniform. “Aoba, Aoba.” “Y-yes?” “I’ve been wondering something since we got here. What’s that?” Takahashi pointed at a towering building. The 296-meter-tall landmark supported the circular plate of the upper stratum. Although the upper stratum was smaller, it still covered much of the sky. It was dark in here even at noon. “Oh, that’s the Atlas.” “You mean the titan that holds up the heavens? Y’know, from Earth mythology? But that’s a chapel… Pretty weird mix, huh? No way that thing holds the upper stratum on its own. There’s gotta be some magic at work… Although I can’t imagine the scale for it to support that much weight without breaking…,” Takahashi mumbled, rapid-fire. “Anyways, what’s this Atlas’s deal?” “It’s a sanctuary where they keep the Progenitor’s holy vessel. No one is allowed inside or anywhere nearby. They also say the re-service area is underneath it.” “So what’s this re-service area I keep hearing about?” “I don’t know the particulars… They say it’s a place below the lower stratum where people who can no longer serve the city due to injury or illness are made able to serve once again. It is a citizen’s duty to submit body and soul, after all…” “Hmmm. This whole Progenitor thing is pretty dumb.” Aoba could not believe her ears. She had never heard someone say something like that. She looked around. If an officer were to hear her disrespecting the Progenitor—their god—they could punish her like she saw on her way to the cell. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. “…I-is it dumb?” Aoba asked in a whisper. “Ah, sorry. It’s what’s normal for you, right?” Aoba’s heart raced. “Yeah, I’m just gonna be frank with you. It’s dumb. I don’t care if that’s what you and everyone else in the city believes. I hate this sorta thing. No offense.” “D-don’t worry.” It took Aoba courage to even utter those two words. To not worry about her going against the systems that defined her life. “B-but still, you shouldn’t say that to anyone else…” “So I can say it to you?” “Ah, y-yes. I…I also find it…strange…,” she confessed for the first time. She felt like she shouldn’t be doing this, but at the same time, she felt liberated. Her mentality changed; if she was already a prisoner anyway, then being disrespectful wouldn’t change things much at this point. Aoba looked ahead and spotted Veltol talking with someone from another team. “Good to see you again. How was the correction chamber yesterday?” “Veltol. Horrible… It’s so small and stinky, and there’s no food… I’m sick of getting sent there for collective punishment.” “Sounds hard.” “Oh, no, I had it relatively fine, thanks to your testimony. The actual perpetrators had it even worse.” “I would like to ask you some questions. Do you mind?” “Go ahead.” Aoba wondered what they were talking about as she entered the chapel. The inside was not so different from the one on the upper stratum, save for lower quality. Benches, a pulpit, light rays clearing the darkness, and a bass-heavy hymn. The crowd was jam-packed, be it because of the lower stratum’s higher population or the chapel being smaller than the upper stratum. “Looks more like a slums bar than a chapel, eh?” Takahashi quipped. Aoba had no idea what she was talking about. Prayer was the same as it was on the upper stratum. Reciting the Canon with the overpowering bass sound. The only difference was that the mood here felt much lighter than in the upper stratum. Veltol was particularly casual—to an offensive degree. Everyone had to stand during prayer. Yet he was reclined back, exceedingly long legs crossed, knee on the bench’s armrest, jaw on the back of his hand, staring ahead with tedium. Meanwhile, Takahashi had her forehead on the back of the seat in front, somehow dozing off in the middle of the loud noise. “…?!” Aoba was shocked to see the extent of blasphemy before the Progenitor. Sitting down—let alone dozing off—in the middle of prayer was unheard-of for her. There were no officers here. They all assumed it was obvious that people in church would be praying appropriately. There was no one there to chastise them. The people around them seemed unconcerned, or rather, they were looking the other way. Calling him out would mean that they weren’t focusing on prayer, either, and no one wanted to get involved in trouble in the first place. C-can they do that…? Blasphemy. Sacrilege. Heresy. This was taboo for any citizen. Yet despite her worrying, Aoba found their lack of restraint liberating. “Service work begins at eight AM. There’s a break at eleven thirty, and then work ends at four PM.” Service—prison work assigned to teams. “Team 045 works at the landfill,” Veltol added. “Watch out for the inherent dangers of the job.” “Y-yes!” Aoba replied. Takahashi still seemed sleepy. Work was easy: disposing of the garbage collected from the upper and lower strata. The landfill had a makeshift ceiling but open walls; one could see the other teams work from there. “Our job is to bring the trash here with the cart and throw it there. The end.” Veltol pointed at his feet, where cylinders with uneven teeth rolled to crush and grind the garbage. “Quite the easy task.” “I-isn’t it dangerous…?” Aoba gulped as she stared into the grinder. The machine resembled a monster with its mouth open. A single slip and it was over. “Naturally. Other teams say that work accidents are incessant. They do not think about workplace safety at all. I will take care of throwing the garbage; you focus on bringing it to me.” Aoba and Takahashi got to work. They worked on one cart together. The team in charge of transporting the garbage loaded it into the cart, and they took it to Veltol to throw into the grinder. Takahashi pulled the cart from the front, while Aoba pushed it from the back. “You’re such a lifesaver here, Aoba. I had to do this on my own before!” Takahashi said. “So, anyways, what’s this?” She pointed at the trash with her chin. “Umm…magar?” “I can tell as much!” Magar corpses lay on the cart. Common cattle in Alnaeth. They had twisted horns and stiff fur. They were similar in bionomy and uses to Earth’s sheep, and there was a time when their name was simply translated as sheep. The corpses were relatively new, before putrefaction. “And we’re throwing this away?! What even is up with this stuff?! Is it real? This isn’t what we threw away yesterday! And it’s kinda oversize, don’tcha think?!” “I think it might be leftovers from Communion.” “Communion?” Takahashi repeated. Aoba nodded. “Saba offered to the Progenitor. Only consecrated things can be used in Communion, so the rest gets thrown away…I suppose. I always wondered where the leftover consecrated magar went.” “Isn’t that a waste? Couldn’t we get better food if we handed it out to people here? It’d definitely be better than that bland paste…” “Everything within the domain is the Progenitor’s… Even taking things that are not consecrated is forbidden in this city. We can only eat what the Progenitor bestows us.” “Oh, piss off. This is mad heavy, too! Maybe if I ask Veltol to switch places… No, wait, that’d probably actually kill me.” Veltol, meanwhile, pointed at the grinder, calling out to a man from a different team working nearby. “Kanazawa, do you mind?” “Veltol. Thank you for your help before. It was thanks to you that no problem happened in the end. Everyone else is grateful, too.” “Please, don’t mind it. Now, I have a question. Where does this go?” “Ah, it leads to the sewers that connect to the ocean.” “I see. So this is why Goar’s sea was filthy…” “Unfortunately, I don’t know much else, since I don’t belong to the maintenance team.” “Hmm… Do you happen to know which team does? I would like to ask further questions.” “Maintenance is 003, 028, 107, and 171’s job. Should I get you in contact with the team leaders?” “I would appreciate it.” Takahashi kept towing as Aoba observed the conversation. “What are they talking about?” Aoba asked Takahashi. “Dunno, but you can bet Velly’s scheming something. He’s doing things pretty grassroots this time… I guess due to all the restrictions. Anyways, just let ’im take care of things.” Takahashi wore a serene smile. “Y’know, there was this big turf war vibe when we got here, and folks were super leery of us. But then Velly solved it in one day. Said the best way to do stuff was to get everyone’s trust first.” “He does seem very friendly.” “The guy’s a master at rallying people up.” Finally, they got the cart to Veltol. “Gosh, I’m pooped. Velly, we’re here!” “Good job,” he said, before throwing the refuse in the grinder. The flesh was torn apart, the bones crushed, and blood splattered as the grinder consumed it. Aoba fainted at the sight. “Eleven thirty. Time for our lunch break. We must go back to work at twelve, so don’t take it too easy.” The team in charge of rationing at the service workshop brought them their afternoon saba: aqa in a pouch and a box of partitioned vividly colored paste, the C-tier saba sometimes handed out in the upper stratum. “I really don’t like this…” Takahashi frowned as she removed the spoon from the back of the box’s lid and grabbed a mouthful of pink paste. Her frown deepened once she gulped down some aqa. “The pink one’s got this chemical sweetness and awful texture to it, the blue one tastes like toothpaste, and the white one’s just bland. You don’t like this stuff, do ya, Aoba?” “E-ermm…I am used to it. Hee-hee…” Aoba turned to look at Veltol. He was already wolfing down the paste with gusto. “It’s not bad,” he said. “You just like anything so long as it’s edible!” “I must admit, compared to what I had to eat during my worst times, all the food here is quite appetizing.” “You gotta raise your standards, man!” The last word echoed throughout the wide landfill—“man, man, man…”—as Takahashi threw herself backward onto the rusty floor. Aoba listened to everything they said with great interest. Takahashi rubbed her nape, with a big sigh. Aoba hadn’t noticed before, but she had some metallic thing there. “I’m gonna lose my mind here without my Familia…” “Too bad they took it from you as soon as we arrived.” “U-umm… What is this…Familia?” “Ahh, err, well…” Takahashi lowered her head to show Aoba her nape. The protection cover shielded the nerve connector. Her Familia was supposed to be connected on top of the cover, but it had been confiscated when they came to Yokohama. “It’s a machine you put in here, and it’s super handy. The culmination of civilization and an absolute must for life in the modern era.” “Huh…” Aoba tilted her head in confusion. “My artificial spirits were parallel copies, and it was my outing device, so no big deal, but, like, I’m an artist, y’know? I’ve got my quirks for my gadgets.” “Okay, okay. I was already thinking about buying you something with the reward. I shall get you the same as the one you lost,” Veltol said. “Whoa! Seriously?! Get me a new one, then! The one that’s releasing soon!” “Heh. Opportunist.” “I was fine taking it off for class in Akihabara…but not having it at all here is givin’ me some serious withdrawal…” “Perhaps they should regulate Familias before Scream. In any case, without magic, I can’t connect to the aethernet.” “There’s still tons of stuff you can do offline… Can’t you pull something off with magic?” “I just reminded you: I cannot use magic here. Not because of any interference, but due to the overwhelming lack of aether.” Aoba didn’t know about magic to begin with, so she had no way of knowing that there was little aether in the lower—and upper—stratum. Veltol and Takahashi had noticed this deficiency as soon as they arrived in Yokohama. Magic—the means to control the aether in the air with mana and bend the laws of reality to re-form phenomena. Aether was needed to create mana, too, and even with some reserve, it was impossible to manipulate and transform what wasn’t there. It was the most important element of magic. Aoba continued listening to their conversation, wondering what this magic thing was. “Even the facilities are all electrical. It’s not so bad that I can’t maintain my immortality, but performing any magic is impossible. Here, at least.” “Are we gonna be okay?” “Worry not. I have a plan.” “Then let’s ditch this dump quick and get back home. No worries about my attendance, thanks to the program I wrote, but Hizuki shouldn’t be missing her shifts.” “Easy. There is a process to this, as there is to everything. It is foolish to challenge the dungeon’s boss without proper preparations.” “You never beat ’em on your first try even when you do prepare!” The tranquil break went by. Although she didn’t understand the slightest thing about what they were saying, a smile popped onto Aoba’s face as she heard them talk. “It is now four PM. Service work is complete. Time to go back, exercise, and shower before six o’clock. Dinner is at seven, and lights-out at nine.” Once their work was over, exercise and shower time went by quickly before dinner. Evening saba was served in the dining hall furnished with long tables and chairs. “This place is like a school cafeteria,” said Takahashi. Aoba had no idea what she meant. Most prisoners in the southern zone gathered there. The place was terribly crowded, and the mere act of eating was an ordeal. Aoba sat between Takahashi and Veltol. “U-umm… A-are you not eating?” Aoba timidly asked Veltol. It was C-tier saba again, but Veltol wasn’t touching his. “No. Izumi doesn’t get lunch and dinner because he is unable to go to work, so I’m saving mine for him. I cannot leave a roommate behind.” “Gramps’s gotta be hungry,” Takahashi said. “B-but then wouldn’t that make you hungry, Veltol?” “Although food complements mana nutrition and makes my reserve more efficient, I mostly do it for enjoyment rather than necessity.” Again, Aoba did not understand a word of that. After eating, they headed to the cell. The time before lights-out was boring. There was nothing to do, so Aoba skimmed the Canon. The verses she could recite with her eyes closed had degraded to simple words that slipped away from her heart. Takahashi was on the bed above hers. On the lower bed beside was Izumi 012M, already asleep after eating. Above him was Veltol, crossing his legs to fit into the bed, also reading the Canon. His bed used to be below Takahashi’s when they first arrived, but she insisted he give it over to Aoba. “Aoba,” Veltol called as he looked away from the Canon. “Y-yesh?!” Her voice cracked. “I want to ask you something. Have you ever heard of Sihlwald or the Black Dragon?” “Sihl…wald…?” She had never heard of it. It was nowhere in her memory. “Down…” And yet a sound came to mind. Something within her. Deep within her. Someone yelled. Shouted at her to go down. The urge was similar to when she was in the upper stratum. She subconsciously understood that it didn’t mean the lower stratum, but even lower. The impulse became stronger after she fell here. “Aoba?” “Ah!” Aoba came back to her senses. “S-sorry… I don’t…think I know it…” “I see. That is fine.” “O-okay…” “Aobaaa! Talk with me, too!” Takahashi popped her head upside down from the bed above. “Eep!” Aoba jumped in surprise. “H-h-hey…” Today, she had learned that Takahashi, while a prisoner, was not a bad person. Being a sinner should mean being a bad person, and yet Aoba couldn’t see her that way. “We’re roomies now! Let’s be friends, ’kay?” “Umm…” “Hmm?” “Wh-what should I call you…?” “Just Takahashi. That’s what everyone calls me.” “…Takahashi.” Takahashi, Takahashi, she said to herself. “I-I’ve never heard that name before.” “I doubt there’s Takahashis here. Everyone has similar names in this joint.” “I-it’s pretty strange. Erm, could it be…that y-you’re from outside?” “Yeah. You can tell?” Takahashi leaned over her bed and twirled in the air by supporting herself from the edge to sit down on Aoba’s bed. “Guess it’s obvious, huh?” “Yes… There is something different about you.” “I’d imagine. Everyone here’s, like, all uptight and polite. I’m sure me and Velly are an oddity.” “I thought Veltol was a woman when I first saw him… There are no men with hair that long, because of the hair code…” “Y’know, they shaved him bald when we came here. But then his hair just grew back in an instant. They gave up.” “My! Is everyone from outside like that? Can you grow your hair that quickly, too, T-Takahashi?” “Nah. I’m normal. It’s just that Velly’s an immortal.” “He’s what?” “He can’t die.” “…There really are people like that?” “Eeyup. I’ve got another immortal friend, even.” “Really?!” “She kinda resembles you, in a way.” “Um, Takahashi, why did you come here from outside?” “I… Well, Velly had something to do here… Wait, should I be telling you this? Eh, he didn’t ask me to keep quiet, so whatever. He would’ve said so if I shouldn’t.” Aoba was engrossed by Takahashi’s rapid chatter. Talking to her was stimulating like she had never felt before. It was like a desire burning within her got stronger and stronger. “Um, Takahashi, may I ask you something?” “Whassup?” “Erm… I—I…” Aoba hesitated. “What is it? Just tell me! We’re friends now.” The remark gave her courage. “Could you tell me about the outside?” She was worried that asking about it would be forbidden, since the Canon said that those outside were sinners who didn’t get to enter the utopia. One could see the outside from within Yokohama. The lights of the city beyond the blurry panorama. But those weren’t real lights. To Aoba, the real lights were these people here with her. “I…” Takahashi watched as Aoba hesitated whether to say it. “I want to visit the outside world, too.” Takahashi blinked and smiled. “Heh-heh-heh. Sounds great! Let’s hang out outside. I gotta tell you all about it first. C’mere, let’s have girl talk.” During the short time before lights-out, Takahashi told her about all sorts of things. About herself, about Veltol, about her friends, about the city outside, about the foods that were tastier than the paste. Simply hearing about it gave Aoba more, so much more joy than the mandated bliss from the upper stratum. It was perhaps the happiest she had ever been in her life. She couldn’t help but wish this moment could go on forever. Izumi 012M heard the talk, too, and laughed between coughs. “Wh-what’s the matter?” Aoba asked. “Oh, nothing. Your conversation was just that fun,” he said. “Wanna join the girl talk, Gramps?” Takahashi asked. Izumi 012M shook his head. “No, it’s enough for me to hear you talk. I also used to have this wish to see the outside. Which is why I fell to the lower stratum… But hearing you talk about it now, I’m sure I wasn’t wrong in thinking that.” The old man smiled. “Aoba 100F.” He looked at her. Then he spoke as if he was entrusting her with his wishes. “You go to the outside. For me. Please.” The next day, after Aoba, Takahashi, and Veltol returned to Cell 045, Izumi 012M was nowhere to be found. He had been sent to the re-service area. Although they didn’t show it, the folks at Cell 045 were considerably impacted by Izumi 012M’s sudden disappearance. After evening saba, Takahashi and Aoba sat shoulder to shoulder on the lower bed, when Takahashi said, “Hey, Aoba.” “Y-yes?” “What’s the re-service area?” “I—I don’t know a lot myself… They only ever told me that it’s the final place where those who could no longer serve the Progenitor go, so they are able to do it once again.” “I see… Then maybe he’s doing fine over there.” “Yes… I’m sure. I’m sure he is.” After a while of silence in the cell devoid of the old man’s coughing, there was a violent knock on the door, followed by an officer’s shout: “Stand back, prisoner! A new inmate has arrived at Cell 045!” Takahashi and Aoba looked at each other. “Wonder what they’re like…” “H-hopefully they’re not scary…” “Do not fret. There is nothing that can surprise you anymore, remember? Not after knowing us irregulars. Keep your head up,” Veltol said as he jumped off the bed and stood tall with arms crossed to welcome the new inmate. “Get in, Ryal,” barked the officer. “I know. You don’t have to push me like that…” The new prisoner entered Cell 045. He was a man. Human. Young, perhaps not even twenty. Blond. The man’s eyes opened wide the moment he saw his new cellmates. “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?!” “YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU?!” Veltol and the blond man reacted the same way and shouted each other’s names: “Veltol?!”