Chapter 44

EPILOGUE Tracing the Scar After the collapse of the boxed island of Yokohama and the defeat of the Atlas, Kinohara picked everyone up and returned them to Goar on the airship. It was just before dawn, but naturally, the clouds hid the sunlight. Although the shock waves of the battle had opened holes in the sky, it was already back to normal. After blocking the Atlas’s sword, Hizuki fell from Sihlwald’s back and, having lent her Familia to Takahashi, had no way to stop her fall to the ocean. Fortunately, Gram was running toward the Atlas and caught her. He cast Water Walking on her, and she returned back to the ruins of Yokohama with Machina. She had been spared from being crushed under the Atlas, but now the city of Goar was in an uproar. “Mmm, yeah, should’ve expected it.” She looked through news sites from her Familia, which Takahashi gave back after the battle. The collapse of Yokohama, the mysterious light that struck down the FEMU troops, the appearance of the giant, the meteorites, the explosions, the dragon, the giant swords—so much happened that the aethernet was overflowing with discussion and conspiracy theories. “I mean, even I don’t know what in the world was going on, and I was there…” Now wasn’t the right time to hear her out. Her hotel roommate, Takahashi, was worn out, and she decided it was best to leave her alone, so Hizuki went out for a walk around Goar before the time came to return to Shinjuku. As she set foot on the pier, someone called out to her. “Uh, you…” “Yes?” She turned around and was astounded. It was the Hottie of Light. The one who saved her from falling into the gelid sea. Unlike then, Gram wore light armor and a blue cape, with a rusty sword hanging from chains on his waist. By the way, Veltol’s designation was the Hottie of Darkness. Next to Gram was the pretty woman Hizuki had met at the ramen place: Kinohara. “Ah. Um, thank you for saving me back there…,” said Hizuki. “Oh, it’s nothing. Sorry, Director. I want to have a word with her…,” Gram told Kinohara. “I believe it is against compliance to hit on a schoolgirl…” “Who do you take me for?! That’s not what’s happening here. C’mon.” “…Very well. There is a pile of work waiting for us, though. Keep it short.” Kinohara lightly bowed to Hizuki before leaving. “Let’s walk,” Gram said. “O-okay…” Hizuki followed by his side. Th-this is awkward… Between yin and yang, Hizuki was yin. Between light and darkness, she was darkness. Having lived in the shadows back in school in Akihabara, she was sensitive to this extro/intro divide. And the blond man next to her was light itself. The fact that he adjusted his walking speed to Hizuki’s pace was bigger proof than anything. In contrast, the Hottie of Darkness, Veltol, was the kind of man who walked at his own pace, without a shred of care or consideration. Standing next to a being of light was painful for a woman of darkness and low self-esteem like her. And more than anything… He’s the guy Meldia’s in love with. Hizuki placed her hand on her chest. The power within her, so strong until a while back, was now entirely quiet. Was it because she had used up her daily shot? Or was it from embarrassment? Hizuki’s gut told her it was the latter. Mmm, but I’m not a good talker. Even worse with someone I barely know… She would like to talk with him, but the only topic of safe conversation she had was Moebius Protocol. That said, this guy didn’t look like he watched it. Hizuki bet on it with the biggest, brightest smile she could force. “H-hey! Have you watched—?” Gram came to a stop as she spoke haltingly. She stared at one point beyond the sea. The ruins of Yokohama. Goar and FEMU airships flew above it to investigate. There was a dark tone to Gram’s gaze as he saw it. “Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Gram. Now I’m just a salaryman.” “Ah, umm, I, well, they told me about you. Ah, I’m Hizuki. Hizuki Reynard-Yamada.” Gram mouthed the word Reynard. “Should I call you Reynard or Yamada?” “Ah, no, just Hizuki!” She immediately regretted it. What are you saying?! I hope he doesn’t think I’m a creep. “So, Hizuki,” Gram began, unaware of her thoughts. “Your power… That’s the goddess Meldia, isn’t it?” “Huh? Ah, yes.” “…I see.” Gram turned to face her. “I’m sorry.” He bowed deeply. “Huh?! Why?! For what?!” “I heard about what happened in Akihabara. You got that power and Akihabara ended up like that because I escaped from my responsibilities. I know it’s not something easily forgiven, but I’m sorry.” Hizuki knew that the Hero Gram was once the feudal lord of Lu Xel, and that he abandoned his duties. But that was long-gone history for Hizuki. Something from the textbooks. Even if it eventually led to what happened to her, she didn’t see it as a direct cause. To begin with, she simply couldn’t see the man before her as someone who had anything to do with it. She didn’t mind, or rather, didn’t care, but it looked like he couldn’t not care. He sure is clumsily sincere. “Ah, no, I don’t mind. You don’t have to apologize, really.” She realized how bad she was at comforting him. “I…see…” Gram raised his head and looked at Hizuki. “Also…I don’t think there’d be any point in asking you, but…” “Ah, yes?” “Does she…Meldia…?” Gram squeezed the words out of his throat, as though peeling off an old scar. “Does she resent me?” Hizuki couldn’t act like this had nothing to do with her. She had a duty to tell him. “It’s okay. She’s self-righteous, overjealous, and stupid…” The medium of the goddess who loved the Hero smiled from the bottom of her heart. “But she’ll always care about you.” “And that is what happened while you went to Yokohama, Lord Veltol.” There was no reason to stay in Goar after Yokohama collapsed. Sihlwald was rescued, and Veltol’s immediate goal was completed—though he did not get to establish a nation. Back in Shinjuku, at Veltol’s streaming room, Machina gave a report of what went on while he was gone. Her chance encounter with Ange, her meeting with a black MG pilot calling himself Zenol. She should have told him sooner, but she decided it was best to do it once things calmed down a bit. Machina’s arm, which she’d lost from the use of the ultimate magic, was already healed to no discomfort in daily life by the time they reached Shinjuku. Veltol leaned back on his gaming chair, wearing his usual Demon Lord T-shirt and black tracksuit, and closed his eyes as he massaged his brow. “First May, now Zenol…,” he said tiredly. Machina had heard a summary of what happened in Yokohama. The closely managed city in a box, its administrator calling himself a god. And the death of their friend. They beat the Atlas, but that didn’t mean victory. The fact that they couldn’t save their friend still weighed on them. On Veltol, on Takahashi, on Sihlwald, and on Gram. “About that… I feel like it might not be the real Sir Zenol,” said Machina. “…What do you mean?” Veltol lifted his head. “I felt traces of May’s mana when I first met Ange, but as far as the man calling himself ‘Sir Zenol’ goes, not only did I not sense any of his mana, but it also didn’t look as though his memories and personality were being manipulated like in Ange’s case. There is something about his manner of speech and the aura about him… Not to mention, he had this clear animosity toward you—unthinkable of the loyal Sir Zenol.” “…We do have precedent for betrayal, sadly. I can hardly trust my popularity now.” “Lord Veltol! Marcus was a nincompoop, but you have to trust Sir Zenol’s loyalty!” Machina puffed out her cheeks in reaction to Veltol’s self-mockery. Zenol was a man Machina respected for his loyalty, which at times bordered on extreme. Machina realized how strong her loyalty to Veltol was, but if one were to ask who was the most loyal among the Six Dark Peers, everyone would agree it was Zenol. “It was a joke. Forgive me. I don’t mistrust Zenol’s loyalty, but…he became firewood, according to Marcus. He could have been lying, of course, but I suspect it was the truth. Let us make our current aim to rescue May and investigate this man using Zenol’s name.” “Understood. By the way, Lord Veltol…where is Lady Sihlwald?” Sihlwald had come with them to Shinjuku and would stay over at their apartment. Machina was thinking of going out with her to buy her share of daily necessities, although one had to question whether she needed them. “She said she was paying Takahashi a visit.” “Takahashi? I see… I wanted to talk about a few things, but oh well. We will have more time to talk later.” “…” Once Machina left the room, Veltol silently booted up his PDA and opened the streaming app. Checking the mic sensitivity, adjusting the audio mixer, checking the camera angle—he skipped every step he never did for preparing his streams. The stream title was, in elvish, “Doing something.” Veltol’s rule was to not stream when he didn’t feel like it, and yet he was clearly doing just that. “Hmm…” Even his greeting wasn’t on point before he opened a side scroller. Naturally, his viewers were confused as to what happened. It was obvious he lacked his usual spirit. One annoyed viewer commented: JUST STOP IF YOU DON’T WANNA DO THIS. That caught Veltol’s eye. He would normally ignore them or take the bait and argue with his viewers. “You…” But this time, he swallowed his words. “Forget it.” The only thing in his mind was the friend he failed to save. That, and the Progenitor’s words about faith and those who gave it. “Everyone.” The life of Aoba and the concept of faith that he saw on the secluded island made a clear change in Veltol’s outlook. A change in viewpoint regarding those who pointed faith at him. “Uh, erm, well… You always… Err, there’s something I want to tell you.” His words were faltering and detached. He didn’t know how to show respect for someone whose face or name he didn’t know. The Progenitor said there was no way the feeder would have any special feelings for the food. That had to be wrong. He had to show it was wrong. So Veltol said, to everyone who offered their faith to him: “Thank you.” The majority of the viewers understood the will behind the expression. That these were no businesslike, mechanical words of gratitude. They came from the bottom of Veltol’s heart. Nighttime in Shinjuku, after everything in Yokohama was over. Takahashi was on the rooftop of a building. The same place from where she hacked the holodisplays around Shinjuku in order to temporarily raise Veltol’s faith. “Haaah…” She sighed, leaning back on the railing and staring at the nighttime lights. She’d been doing the same thing ever since she came back to Shinjuku. Nothing. Just staring at the city. She heard wings flapping, followed by a voice calling to her from behind. “So you were here.” Takahashi slowly turned around. “Hey! Sihlsy.” It was the Black Dragon in human form. Sihlwald floated in the air, flapping her wings, before landing and folding them back. She was wearing a tracksuit and a shirt that read “dragon.” Where did they sell those things? And could she extend and retract her wings at will? Takahashi wondered. “You’re the only one who has ever called me that and will surely be the last… Very well. I’ll allow it.” “Thanks.” Takahashi laughed, dryly, weakly. “So? Whassup?” “Mm, well, I… Veltol told me you were here.” “Really?” “For pity’s… What’s with that lack of spirit?! It’s so obvious, I’m getting depressed just looking at you! At least pretend to be all right.” “Whaa? I’m perfectly all right.” Takahashi giggled weakly. “Sorry.” The smile vanished from her face. “I’m really not all right.” Sihlwald stood next to her and popped her head through the railing to look down at Shinjuku. “From the ground, it’s such a terrible, dirty place full of idiots,” said Sihlwald. “So why is it that, when seen from above, the lights of their lives look so beautiful? I think this all the time with the passing of the ages, but it underlines how much the world has changed.” Sihlwald looked at Takahashi. “As a dragon, and I’ve related with people for a long time… And I still don’t understand your feelings completely. Yet even I know that it’s not good to hold your worries to yourself. Speaking to somebody about it might lighten the load, even if it doesn’t solve things.” “I’m not…” Takahashi stopped herself. “Yeah…,” she said. “I was thinking about that moment. When I…killed my friend. When I killed Aoba and the souls of everyone in Yokohama.” She hung her head, and the words came out one after the other. “I killed a friend, I killed so many people, and I don’t feel regret, and no tears come out. Did I not care about her? Do I not have a human heart? Did I think of them as just data? Were we not really friends? Would I do it again if the same thing happened to Machina or Hizuki? Without tears, again?” She forced a smile. “So, yeah. Stuff like that. The usual.” “What?” Sihlwald furrowed her brow. “What’re you talking about?” “Huh? Whatcha mean?” “You did not kill Aoba.” “Huh…? But she was—” “You saved her and everyone else from that imbecile calling himself a god.” Takahashi was thunderstruck. “The only one you helped kill was that evil and tyrannical iron god. And only you saved your friend. Get it right. No wonder Veltol doesn’t come, either, when you’ve got such mistaken ideas in your head.” “…” “Ugh, I was wondering what you were worrying about, and it was such trifles. Be proud of it. Of course you wouldn’t cry. You want to shoulder the sin of killing a friend on top of that of slaying a god? You really are a little girl, to mistake saving for killing. Grow up.” Sihlwald shrugged. “Hold your head high, Takahashi. You destroyed the evil god and saved the soul of your prisoner friend. You are a hero. That I guarantee you.” Words of salvation. The anxiety bubbling up inside her dissipated, melted away. Finally, tears flowed from Takahashi’s eyes. Her soul, too, was saved in this moment. “Yeah… Yeah…!” Sihlwald gently embraced Takahashi. The girl sobbed in the dragon’s arms. She prayed for the peaceful repose of her friend’s soul.