Chapter 39

Having to talk with Veltol with garlic breath would be upsetting, though—the thought took over as she slurped her noodles. That girl wasn’t the target of her revenge, and she wasn’t getting in her way at the moment. Machina said she was an old friend or coworker or something, but then she was brainwashed or hypnotized or something, and she was like an entirely different person now. In that case, nothing was to be gained getting on the offensive. The most fruitful course of action would be to capture Ange with Machina’s help and ask her some questions. Hizuki tried hard to contain herself, but the more she thought about the possibility of getting intel on Faceless, the more restless she got. “Hizuki,” Machina said while rolling the spinach-like edible film with the synthetic seaweed. “I know how you feel, but this isn’t the time. Let’s eat our food.” “…Yeah.” Machina’s warning made Hizuki regain her cool. Helping Ange—May—was Machina’s goal. Hizuki’s and Machina’s destinations were the same in the end. If Machina got to save May, Hizuki could get intel on Faceless. The best thing to do right now was to fill her belly and procure energy. She thought perhaps having a full belly before battle could lower her performance, but there was no way that could happen after eating some domestic ramen full of nutritious salt, water, fibers, proteins, and garlic. Hizuki gulped down the broth and wrapped the soggy synthetic seaweed with edible film and artificial rice to get a mouthful. In this moment, there was nothing else but eating ramen and rice. She had to eat ramen and rice. They had been touring ramen places for the last few days, but it was no problem to her, since all the fat went to her breasts and butt. Last time she told Machina that, she headbutted her chest without saying a word. “May…,” Machina whispered pleadingly. Ange did not respond, for she wasn’t May. “Ange…” “What?” “Could I ask a question?” “Okay,” Ange replied, making a mini ramen in her spoon. “We fought back in Akihabara, but I’m not sensing any animosity now. Is there a reason for that?” “I’m on a different mission at the moment. And it doesn’t include fighting you.” “So you don’t intend to fight unless it’s for a mission?” Ange nodded. “You didn’t think I could attack you?” “I imagined it when I saw you, but considering our last fight, I thought you wouldn’t want to fight inside the restaurant. I could tell from your estimated mana reserve and output that you try not to harm your surroundings.” “…Meet me after you’re done eating. I want to talk.” “Understood. I expected that, too. I was told not to attract attention, so I will focus on getting my nutrients for now.” The two kept quiet. She doesn’t think she’s attracting attention being a little girl with that weird outfit and bulky visor…? Hizuki Reynard-Yamada couldn’t help but worry about the associate of her nemesis. “Okay.” Machina put down her chopsticks, stood up, and looked down at Ange. “So you’ll do what I ask?” “Depends on what you ask.” “Let’s meet at the harbor. There are too many people here.” “…Understood.” Hizuki hadn’t known her for long, but she knew what Machina was thinking. She wanted to take May back from Ange. But that would be difficult. So her plan was to get ahold of Ange. It could be that Veltol had a way to turn her back. Hizuki stood up as well, determined to help her friend in whatever minor way she could. Only the owner of the restaurant, who had lived through City War II, could sense the tension in the air around the table at the back. Kinohara asked herself, Wait, what am I doing here again? The answer could only be that she let herself go along with the flow. Maybe she could find an opportunity for profit. She needed money in order to fulfill her ambition of buying the rights to Ishimary, IHMI’s mascot. The other reason was that it looked fun. Kinohara walked right behind the other three ladies. Machina led the way, followed by the visor girl Ange, and then the blond half-elf. Kinohara had seen the blond on the news. The only daughter of the Reynards and the figure at the center of the incident involving the Three Great Houses of Akihabara. She looked her up on her Familia; the girl’s name was Hizuki Reynard-Yamada. The related images showed her flipping the bird, and lots of ensuing memes. Poor girl, becoming an aethernet meme at her age. Kinohara didn’t know much about the visor girl. Apparently, she had history with Machina. Kinohara honestly felt a bit left out after how her encounter with Machina was brushed off the moment another acquaintance came in. That didn’t matter now, though. What Kinohara was most interested in right now was who made that visor. At the very least, it wasn’t in the G6 catalogue. She figured it had to be a new model or from some minor maker. The four of them arrived at a desolate pier. At the edge, with the sea to her back, stood Ange. Machina and Hizuki faced her, while Kinohara remained behind. The waves crashing into the tetrapods played a forlorn melody. “Ange.” “What?” “Would you come with us?” Machina’s voice was serene, but Kinohara heard a tinge of supplication. “Where to?” “Let me rephrase that. Would you join us, as friends?” “No.” “Why?” “It’s not part of my mission, and besides…” Her words were the final nail in the coffin. “You’re my enemy.” Machina let out a deep, deep sigh. Heat. Kinohara felt sparking heat on her skin. The aether around her reacted to Machina’s mana and sparked with heat. Machina took a step forward, leaving a scorched footprint behind. “Warning,” Ange said as the chilling gust made her skirt flutter. “I will strike back at any aggressive behavior.” “You’re sharp. Yes, I’ll tie you up here and now.” Machina’s and Ange’s animosity filled the air. Wait. They’re going to fight? I suppose I should have seen this coming after the words they exchanged at the restaurant. What am I doing? My curiosity is getting the better of meowmeowmeow. Kinohara’s thoughts were helter-skelter. Hizuki didn’t seem like she’d try to stop them, either. Quite the opposite: She took a step forward, too. Clearly, there was more to lose than win here. Better to sneak out and go home. But as soon as Machina and Ange got into combat stance, Kinohara noticed it first. “Look up!” She jumped away after the warning, and without a moment’s delay, Machina grabbed Hizuki, still lost, and retreated. It fell top speed from the sky and crashed into the spot they had been standing on. The ground cracked loudly, and a dust cloud shot up. “Wh-what the hell?!” Hizuki yelled, to no response. The dust cleared. There was jet-black armor there. It stabbed a large black sword on the ground and knelt with its back to Ange. Its eyes and a circuit pattern all around its body lit up. Kinohara had seen that black armor before. “Alternative…?!” “‘Alternative…’?” Machina parroted. “IHMI’s fifth-gen prototype MG. But…” The Alternative magi-gear prototype was developed concurrently with Zerobase. In contrast with Zerobase’s steady design, Alternative was developed with as many features as they could fit into it. It produced a load too heavy even for an A-class licensed driver like Kinohara, or a physically resilient species like ogres. It was declared impossible for mankind to handle and lost to the in-house competition to the Zerobase before being sealed away. Kinohara had experience test-driving both the Zerobase and the Alternative. It could not be a human in that thing if it was full-spec. It does look quite different, though… The base was clearly IHMI’s Alternative. It had a tight form like the Zerobase, being more like a suit than an armor. But the general silhouette was different from what she remembered. It had IHMI’s dual sensors and MAGTEC’s visor sensors on top, with additions to its pectoral armor. The armor had a black Feyenoor-made offensive exhaust dragoncell coating and one M&B xeno launcher on each shoulder. All modified beyond warranty protection. It was like a chimera mixing various weapons from various manufacturers. The Alternative rose to its feet and pulled out the sword from the ground to carry it on its shoulder. Although Kinohara hesitated to even call it a sword. It was more like a cannon with a blade. She assumed that strange weapon had to be an Armory product, but she wasn’t sure. “Ange, what the hell are you doing?” A muffled, mechanical voice came from the Alternative. “Why are you with them? What about FEMU’s mission? You forgot you’re not allowed to fight? You gotta listen to your superiors, kid.” “I am not attacking them. We ran into each other at the ramen restaurant and came here en garde. Besides, the mission is complete. The Union Army is mobilizing. So there’s nothing to worry about, Superior.” “Okay, then. But wait, then that means you went for ramen looking like that?” “Affirmative. Why?” “Should you really be wandering outside and getting into ramen places wearing our uniform…?” “I was only told not to enter restaurants with this outfit in Akihabara. No instructions for Goar.” “You… Don’t take orders so literally!” “It’s not in the regulations. No problem.” “You sure…? Hmm.” Kinohara was baffled by the freaks’ casual exchange. However, she could tell from his manner of speech that the driver was a young man. “Who are you? Depending on your answer, I will have to—” “Woman,” the Alternative said, interrupting Machina. “Tell Veltol I will kill him. Me, no one else. Zenol.” “What?!” Machina’s jaw dropped, and her eyes bulged. Zenol. Kinohara knew that name. It was one of the higher-ups in the Demon Lord Army five hundred years ago. One of the Six Dark Peers. The Duke of the Karmic Sword. The Hero Gram’s nemesis, Zenol had lost to him in a duel during the Immortal War. He had also been on the list of the Immortal Furnace’s firewood. “Sir Zenol?! No, that can’t be… He’s not this sort of person…,” Machina said in confusion. Impossible for her not to be confused when the person before her had been supposedly burned in the furnace. “God’s Utopia Project will soon begin in Yokohama, and that island will disappear.” The armor calling itself Zenol ignored Machina again and spoke whatever it wanted to speak. “God…? Utopia?” Hizuki said. “As someone in the organization, I cannot directly put a stop to that man close to godhood. However, I would personally not have Veltol defeated. There is a reason why it has to be me who kills him.” “What’re you even talking abo—?” Zenol interrupted Hizuki: “So I’ll give you a piece of advice. If you plan on going to that island, make it quick.” “Swordman,” Ange told the armor. “What you are saying goes against the intel management regulations. And there is no point to the code names if you simply give them your name.” “So now you’re lecturing me?” “Negative. Simply a reminder to my superior. This isn’t part of the mission.” “Fine. Let’s go.” Machina, Hizuki, and Kinohara were absorbed in trying to make sense of what was happening and couldn’t say anything back. “See ya, you immortal fuck.” A magic circle expanded at their feet. Kinohara had no way of knowing this, but it was the same teleportation magic circle Machina et al. saw in Akihabara. “Wait—!” They disappeared before she could finish. “What…is going on…?” Machina looked into the distance. FEMU airships flew above the iron island beyond the black sea. Even all the way here, one could feel the ominous pulsation of the aether. Kinohara spoke to Machina’s back: “I’m not precisely following, but from the look of that aircraft, it appears that our client is trying to force the investigation without consulting with us. My subordinate is there, and I’ve prepared a way to get there in cases of emergency such as this.” Kinohara took a card key out of her pocket. “And I believe our interests align, as business partners.” It was a key for a private airship. “Would you like to come along?” Veltol’s group had left the remote shrine and was walking down the long, narrow stone corridor. The five pairs of footsteps echoed. “So what’re we going to do?” Sihlwald asked blithely from behind. Veltol and Gram walked at the front, followed by Takahashi and Aoba. “We just talked about it, Grandma,” Takahashi said. “We cleared our initial mission, so now we gotta take down the Progenitor, take over the island, and lift the curse on the Aobas’ life spans!” “Don’t forget about my goal here.” “…What was it, again, Grammy?” “Wha—? Uhh, well… Investigate…whether they’re making Scream in Yokohama…” “Oh, I kiiinda remember hearing that? Maybe?” “What is this Scream?” Aoba asked. Gram, bummed out, answered, “An illegal drug. There’s an epidemic going on outside.” “…The people outside are suffering because of it?” “Pretty much.” “I see.” Aoba’s expression darkened. “So anyways, that’s that. Got it, li’l miss dragon?” Takahashi said with deliberate cheer. “Hmph. I was only testing you. I already knew. I knew! So where is this Progenitor?” What an airhead… Takahashi rolled her eyes, but the elderly dragon didn’t care. “Aoba was a resident of the upper stratum until recently, and she doesn’t know,” Veltol explained. “We can only be sure that he must be in the upper stratum or in a similar central place, so for starters, we will go directly to the foot of the Atlas. We just talked about this, Sister.” “Did we?” “The dragon’s got one too many quirks, man…” “Shut up, brat! I know what we’re doing here! Beating up the fool calling himself a god and taking over the place, right?” “You have the general gist of it, but violence is only our last recourse. If they are willing to listen. But in any case, I want you to keep to yourself, Sister.” “What a drag.” “I-I’m so sorry… I can’t contribute anything… Th-they don’t tell us about the Progenitor’s location…” “It’s fine. Nothing that you have to apologize for.” Sihlwald locked arms with Aoba. She was oddly chummy with her; perhaps out of gratitude for being an important factor in breaking her seal? They looked like grandmother and granddaughter. “Sheesh, don’t be too clingy with her.” Takahashi locked arms with Aoba, too, on the opposite side. “Shut up, you useless brat! Get away! She’s mine!” “Ha! You’ll be full of regrets once you get a look at my super-cute hacking wizardry!” Takahashi and Sihlwald stuck their tongues out at each other, sandwiching Aoba. Meanwhile, Aoba was torn between bliss and embarrassment; she just wanted them to get along. “U-um, where…are we, roughly?” She changed the subject into a plea for help, to escape their pressure. “About below the Atlas,” Gram said. “Y-you can tell?” “Yeah. I’m good at making maps of buildings and stuff in three dimensions… Or rather, I was forced to become good at it,” he said, looking into the distance. A memory best forgotten. “It must’ve been so hard…” “So much happened in the past…” “I would like to hear about your past.” “I can tell you once we’re done with this. I have plenty of stories to tell.” “Heh. Not as many as I,” Veltol interjected. “Well, I’d imagine! And why’re you making this a competition?!” “Hold on, you two! Isn’t it obvious I would win?! You’ve never seen any of the other four dragons, have you?! If only you knew Rathbent! That size! Like thiiiiis, I’m telling you! You keep your mouths shut, rascals! I win!” “…Sure enough, I doubt many have as many stories to tell as you, Sister…” “You got some from all the way back to the age of the gods. It’s not fair. Anyways, are all darklings this competitive?” “This dragon doesn’t have a scale of maturity!” “Pff-ha-ha-ha!” Aoba burst out laughing. This is so fun, Takahashi thought. Being with Aoba, with Velly, with Grammy…and even Sihlwald. She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of building a country and using it as a base for taking over the world, but she felt Veltol was capable of pulling it off. And she was sure it’d be fun. She got new friends; they had hopes of solving the issues of one of them. Everything was going right, and it’d keep looking up. She had no reason for believing it, and yet she did. Suddenly, the old stone corridor switched to a modern one of linoleum and concrete. The feel of something out of place filled the air, like it did back in the remote shrine. They arrived at a room right below the Atlas. Two old magiroids with guns guarded the entrance. Veltol looked at the magiroids from the shadows of the hallway and quietly said, “The guards must mean this is a critical spot. I wondered why the magiroids at the port didn’t use magi-guns, but I see it must be so they could remain armed in areas with low aether. Fire weapons work better here.” “Automata? They didn’t look this sleek back in my day. Anyhow, let’s stop dawdling and move,” Sihlwald said. “Yes, but they would send reinforcements if we were fo—” Sihlwald disappeared before Veltol finished talking. She ran up the wall to the ceiling, and, from the same blind spot magiroids suffered due to their humanlike shape, she swept her tail to chop off their heads, then pierced their chests to crush their mana engines with her bare hands. All of this in the blink of an eye and mostly silent. “Ahh! Their heads!! Like Veltol back there!!” “Don’t worry, Aoba, they’re just machines… And you don’t need to worry about Velly, either.” Sihlwald squeezed the magiroids’ heads like lemons while strolling back to the team. “Get rid of them before they see us and we don’t have to worry about reinforcements,” she said. “A swift and appropriate decision… And aren’t you sharper than before, Sister?” “To an uncanny degree…” Veltol and Gram each broke out in a cold sweat at the sight of her movements. The plate on the automatic door the magiroids were guarding read CULTIVATION ROOM. “Moving on,” Veltol said. The group waited with bated breath as the door opened and revealed a wide space with rows of steel racks. Planters filled the five-ledged racks, illuminated with strong white aether neon lights. A self-propelled machine with arms moved restlessly along the rows. The pots held water-cultured plants with red leaves. “Is this…?” Gram grabbed one of the leaves and pulled on it, revealing a reddish-purple rootstalk that looked like a face and limbs. “It is. Red mandrakes.” The main ingredient of Scream, the drug causing an epidemic in Goar. “You imbecile! Don’t uproot the mandrakes! Could you not stop to think they might scream?!” Veltol yelled, plugging his ears. “Mandrake selective breeding over the past hundred years made them not scream anymore. And even if it were a wild screaming one, you just have to cut off their mouth,” Gram argued back in annoyance. He looked at the armed machine systematically giving nutrients to the mandrakes and harvesting the flowering ones. “So it’s a red mandrake cultivation plant… That’s proof and reason enough for FEMU to intervene. This is the perfect environment for cultivating it in secret, too.” “So this is how they make Scream,” Veltol said. Gram put the red mandrake back and nodded. “Yeah. There must be a separate room for producing it.” “And the Progenitor rules over the island while overseeing its production.” “I’d imagine. Handling a plant this big has to be costly… Say, Veltol.” “Yes?” Veltol grabbed the red mandrake Gram put down and stared intently at it. “What’re your plans for these facilities once you get to the island?” “Get rid of them, naturally. Producing and using such things can only be a thorn in the side for a ruler.” “…I see.” Gram sighed in relief. Aoba stared at the red mandrake Veltol was holding. “This…is making the people outside suffer? There really is…no righteousness for what we believed in…” Looking at the truth behind the object of your faith had to feel like having your entire life boycotted. She looked so frail, she could fade away at any moment, and Takahashi wanted to show her support. She gripped Aoba’s hand tight, so as to keep her by her side. “Hey, there’s another door over there.” Takahashi pointed at the end of the corridor. Outside that room was a console like the one in the remote shrine, with another plate. Takahashi read it out loud: “‘Re-service Area’…” The place where those who could no longer contribute to the city were sent. Veltol stroked his chin. “This re-service area must be the core of the city. It is most convenient to have such a top secret facility like the red mandrake plant so close to the nucleus of operations. As they say, hide a treasure in a dragon’s nest.” “Veltol. Don’t tell me you’ve actually hidden treasure in my nest,” Sihlwald said. “…” “Look me in the eye!” “Wait, that’s the place where they send everyone. Is Gramps gonna be here?” Takahashi asked. “I—I wonder…” Aoba fidgeted before the door. Takahashi and everyone else were also on edge, in their own ways. Their way there had been too lax. There was basically no security. Veltol touched the re-service area door. “There is a seal here. Not as strong as the remote shrine’s, so forcing it open would be possible, but…” “But what? Just blow that up and move—” The door opened by itself before Sihlwald could finish talking. “What? How?” Sihlwald babbled. “…Looks like it’s inviting us in,” Veltol said. The five of them set foot into the re-service area. It was shrouded in darkness. “I can’t see…” “Hold on, I will light—” Just as Veltol was activating an illumination spell, all lights in the re-service area turned on. The place was one-fourth of the remote shrine’s size. Takahashi’s eyes opened wide. “What…is this…?” The walls were covered with jars. “Those…are human brains.” Sihlwald was right. Brains and part of the spine stabbed by multiple cables floated in the red liquid inside the labeled containers. The closest one read KANAGAWA 033M. You couldn’t see the walls, so covered were they by the sheer number of jars. Takahashi’s eyes were drawn to one of them. It was no round brain but a spongy, shriveled fruit. There were a few more with similar contents. She recognized it. It was the same thing the old man fishing at the Goar pier had caught. The fruit jar’s label read ISOGO 085F. The lamp shining on it turned red, and an arm furnished to the wall took it away before replacing it with a new jar. This one didn’t have a fruit but a human brain. Ah, so it wasn’t a fruit that we saw at the port. It’s gotta be one of this after they threw it out into the sea…but… “What the hell…is this place?” Takahashi’s voice trembled. One person responded: “The re-service area. That’s what the sign said.” Takahashi turned to look at the speaker. “Huh?” It was Aoba. But she looked strange. She was frozen solid, her eyes not blinking and emitting a faint blue light. “Aoba…?” She slowly moved to the front of them. “You’re late. I’ve been waiting for you.” “Wait, what’s gotten into you, Aoba?” “I am not Aoba 100F.” From Aoba’s mouth, with Aoba’s voice, it said: “I am this city’s administrator. They call me the Progenitor.” “The Progenitor…? A-Aoba, what in the world are you—?” “Calm down, kid.” Sihlwald put her hand on Takahashi’s shoulder. Shivering hostility oozed from her every pore as she glared at Aoba. “She’s not Aoba now.” “Correct. I am currently speaking to you through Aoba 100F’s body.” “Aoba’s body?! Fuck you! Let her go!” “Excuse me?” The Progenitor’s voice was serenity itself, contrasted with Takahashi’s spitting anger. He spoke as though guiding a lost child or lecturing a naughty one. “No, you don’t get it. This body and soul are my creation, my belonging, and I have the right to do as I please with it. I find it curious, though. How despite having the same soul, the same container, the same education, the same environment, for whatever reason, small differences arise little by little… There are cheerful ones, introverted ones, obedient ones, rebellious ones. Despite the similarities, there is a healthy amount of diversity.” “Progenitor,” Veltol said, not letting him talk further. “You mentioned you were waiting for us. You knew we were coming here?” “Yes, I knew. God observes it all, through the Big Brother surveillance system. It works even under very low aether levels and transmits my citizen’s sight to the system, allowing me to share what they see.” “No hiding from you, then. But why let us come so far if that is the case?” “Two reasons.” “Two…?” “One: to get you to break Sihlwald’s seal. She activates the aether lines, and I used their aether to manage the city, but as the keystone affects the land directly, it gets in the way of the spell I need to achieve my plans. I had to get rid of it.” Veltol raised an eyebrow upon hearing the word spell. “However,” the Progenitor continued, “she is too great to get rid of. She could have ruined my plans, so I had you unseal her instead.” “You used me, huh…? And what’s the second reason?” Sihlwald asked. “The second reason, my other plan, was fulfilled the moment you unsealed Sihlwald.” “What…?” “You cannot interfere with my plans after unsealing her. So I didn’t mind letting you roam free. You were dancing in the palm of my hand from the very beginning.” Gram took a step forward. “You’re processing the sight of everyone in the city all by yourself?” “No, even I am not that omnipotent. That would be impossible. Big Brother requires massive processing power. Which is why everyone takes care of it.” “Everyone…?” Takahashi said. The Progenitor nodded. “Can’t you see?” He made Aoba extend her arms wide. “The paralleled brains of the citizens are the city’s management and arbitration mechanism: the Mothers.” “This… They’re…all…?” Takahashi spoke hoarsely as she looked at the massive number of brains. How could she process the fact that they were all this city’s people? “Those who become unable to contribute to the city and me are brought here to do away with their bodies and turn useful again—that is the re-service area. They age too quickly due to the makeup of their souls, but their brains are different. They are not as greatly impacted as their bodies. And they have the duty to serve until the very last drop of blood. After too much load, their brains shrivel up and, unfortunately, must be discarded. They cannot be used even for food at that point.” “Then…Gramps…?” “Yes. Naturally, Izumi 012M is here, too. He is serving again. They all serve with great glee. They bathe in the stimulant, filling their brains with ecstasy and letting them use multiple times more power than usual. This is their paradise. How wonderful Scream is. Not only is it a source of income, but it helps them help me.” “Th-that’s… You’re…” Takahashi covered her face with both hands as she listened to the Progenitor’s deeds. “And then?” Veltol asked. “Let me hear it, Progenitor. What is your goal? Surely not just pretending to be god on such a tiny island?” “You should know what I’m planning, Veltol.” “…What?” He knew. The verse written on the spine of the Canon. The final goal of the Progenitor. “World peace.” The same thing one Demon Lord purported. “World peace. Interesting,” Veltol repeated with a self-mocking smile. “And how would you bring it about?” “Is there any other way? World peace cannot be achieved without absolute rule. Or do you find my answer risible?” “Far from it. I believe just the same.” “Is that so? Then that makes us comrades, doesn’t it? Things should go smoother if you could give me a hand.” “…” Only Gram stared at Veltol instead of the Progenitor. “Fool,” Veltol scoffed. “I am looking for peace under my rule. A sham of a god who only sees their folk as tools cannot possibly achieve a peaceful world.” “Sounds like you’re saying you’re different, but is that so? Aren’t we the same?” “What?” “Have you done anything for all the people who believe in you? Have you given them thought? Have you thanked them from the bottom of your heart?” “…” Veltol did not respond—or could he not? “You haven’t, have you? Of course. You may feel grateful, but no one thanks water or oxygen from the bottom of their heart. That is what receiving faith is all about—it’s like food. One who feeds on the sacrificial sheep, on the magars raised for slaughter; the eater doesn’t hold special feelings for their food. Becoming an object of faith means becoming a resource. Our existence alone creates mutual aid. There is no need for thanks.” “You mean to lecture me?” “My, we’ve gone off course. I’m sure you must have your thoughts on this, but in any case, it’s true that I’m not a god in a spiritually higher meaning. I can’t receive faith from humankind yet.” “Whatever you might be planning, I will put an end to it. I shall take you down and claim this island.” “Good. You can do as you please with the island. I will give it to you. I don’t need it anymore.” “What…?” Veltol raised an eyebrow. “But put an end to my plans? No, no. I just told you. They’re already complete. I have sufficient faith, and the dragon is free. All that’s left for me now is to become a real god.” “What do you—?” “Listen, my dear ten thousand citizens.” He proclaimed: “Enriedo-Gongujodo.” The maginom’s proclamation activated the remote spell. The Atlas unleashed the aether it absorbed from the upper and lower strata all across Yokohama in the blink of an eye. Aoba’s body was enveloped in blue light. “Huh?” Released from the Progenitor’s influence, she noticed what was happening. “Takahashi.” She instinctively reached out for Takahashi, and Takahashi tried to grab Aoba’s hand. “Help—” But it was not to be. Aoba’s body vanished into particles of light. Her hair disappeared first; then her eyelids, exposing her eyeballs; then her lips, exposing her teeth; then her skin, exposing her muscles; then they vanished, too, to reveal her organs, her nerves, her bones; she crumpled as she lost all support and spilled out and evaporated before touching the ground. Her uniform fell to the floor. The only remnant of Aoba’s existence. It all happened in a single moment. “—” Aoba’s body turned to aether before she could utter her last words. The cathedral on Yokohama’s upper stratum—two thousand people were gathered under the Progenitor’s orders. They all vanished into light as they prayed. Aoba 022M, the individual who reported Aoba 100F to the Law Office, felt his own body and consciousness fade among everyone else’s as he said, “This is my punishment for kicking another person down…” All life evaporated from the upper stratum, leaving only the ringing of the bell behind. Yokohama’s lower stratum. Conflict broke out between the eight thousand prisoners and the few law officers. Veltol’s influence lit the fire of rebellion among some of them, provoking their first protest. “Listen to the Progenitor! Silence! Be still!” “Did Veltol really die?!” “Release them from the correction chamber!” “Huh? My body…” But it was all for naught. Everyone in the lower stratum faded away. “Huh…? Why…?” Aoba had just vanished into light. Takahashi staggered and picked up Aoba’s uniform from the floor. It was still warm. “What…what just…?” Takahashi muttered weakly. “The Final Service.” The echo of a man’s voice responded. “The Final…Service?” “Why do people fight?” He—the Progenitor—began to preach. “There are many reasons. Hunger, disparity, inequality. The distress over it is the root of conflict. Chronic disease and karma. The source of worldly desires is because souls are trapped in the impure land.” “The what?” “Then what is one to do? Escape it, of course. Get rid of the body pinning us down. Then the souls trapped in the impure land will be released from worldly desires, all will gather under the same faith, personal boundaries will disappear, the herd will meld into one, and the world will achieve peace. This is what will bring us to divine enlightenment, my redemption, and their Final Service. This island in a box was a test for that.” “Stop blabbing about shit no one gets and actually explain what’s going on!” “By releasing the Black Dragon, Sihlwald, I was able to activate this spell to trigger the curse in their souls and turn their ten thousand bodies into aether to extract their souls and transform them into data.” “…What?! You can’t transform people’s souls into—!” “Yes, you can,” Veltol interrupted Takahashi’s yelling. His voice was the same as always, yet it sounded so cold as to ingrain fear in those who heard him. “The technology to turn souls into data was already done five hundred years ago.” “Indeed. Your friend told me. The invincible reincarnation: Methenoel. That is where I got the idea from.” “Marcus… I did tell him about the ritual. A man of his level would certainly be able to analyze Methenoel, if within limits.” “I transformed the bodies of the ten thousand citizens into aether and stored them in the six-realms mechanism inside the pure Atlas. Then their souls are turned into data and the direction of their faiths forced one way. They become fuel for faith that transforms my soul, embedded into the Atlas, into godhood.” “Your soul is embedded in the Atlas? So you’ve turned even your own into data already?” “Yes. And from its main system, through the servitude of all my citizens, I reach godhood. At the same time, the Atlas itself has become a perfectly imperishable divine body. This was already set in stone. It’s already too late, for you, for the Far East Merchant Union surrounding the island after receiving a tip, and even for the Guild.” “What? When did FEMU…?” Before Gram could finish his question, the re-service area shook. “An earthquake?!” Gram held Takahashi up. The shaking didn’t stop; it only grew stronger. “Farewell, intruders. In your last moments, celebrate the advent of the new generation’s god. Extol the absolute world peace that comes beyond the rule of terror and destruction.” The ceiling collapsed. Debris fell with a thunder, and the brain jars fell to the floor and broke, their contents spilling out before getting crushed under the rubble. The collapse extended beyond the re-service area. The entirety of Yokohama crumbled.