Chapter 47

Albert looked into the void as he murmured, “The Duchess of Weal and Woe… Back when we were in school, I wouldn’t have thought she’d meet her end this way.” “Is something the matter?” “Oh, it’s nothing. You should go enjoy the party.” “If I may be frank, I’m not good with crowded places. Although I do enjoy the attention.” “Ha-ha! First time I’ve heard of a reserved magiroid. I guess you take after your mother.” Indeed, Matoi was not human. She was an automaton equipped with an artificial spirit, an Einherjar-series magiroid designed and developed to destroy immortals and protect humanity. She was also a member of the Guild’s Hero Corps. “…Forgive me. I’ve had this bad habit of saying clichés since I was a student. I suppose I haven’t changed since my Akihabara days, even after the Demon Lord himself corrected me. I should get it into my head how different we are, you and I.” Albert smiled self-deprecatingly. “Question. What do you mean by the Demon Lord himself?” “Back when I attended Lu Xel, the Akihabara School of Magic, there was a transfer student called Veltol, the same name as the Eschaton Demon Lord. I was still a sheltered noble boy who looked down on the rest of the world, and he broke my ego into pieces. But even now…I don’t want to believe he and that thing are one and the same. Back then, I never would’ve thought I’d join the Guild and become president, either. You never know where life will lead you.” Albert said no more. Matoi had some questions left, but she had learned she would get no answer even if she pried further. She tried changing topics instead. “I wonder what my Great Sister’s—apologies; Zero’s—forecast is. We’re merrymaking here, but I do fear what would happen if the enemy boosted their forces in retaliation.” “We still don’t have precise calculations from the Eye of the Horodict. We could have exact forecasts if we had both eyes… In any case, the rough estimate is they shouldn’t launch an attack so soon after losing one of their True Six Dark Peers. That said, we can’t be sure; we must be prepared at all times… But let’s enjoy the moment, yes?” Humanity was in constant danger. As a magiroid, Matoi didn’t have any psychological burdens, but humans under continual stress needed a break. Right as she deduced this, Matoi received a message. “Commander, I am sorry to interrupt your talk with the cute Hero who defeated a Dark Peer, but Doc is calling me. I must head to the Lab.” “All right. You may go.” “I should be done with maintenance, though.” “It’s just parental love. Humor her.” Matoi cocked her head in confusion, and Albert chuckled. She then left the Bunker for the long hallway leading to the Lab. A silhouette stood at the end of the hall. Her black hair extended nearly all the way to the floor, adorned with one red tuft. She wore round sunglasses on her head and a dwarven jacket over a qipao. The peculiar-looking girl walked toward Matoi. “Howdy-do!” “Howdy-do, ma’am.” Matoi bowed to the girl right after she passed by. Hmm? A question mark popped into her idea circuit; she raised her head. I don’t remember seeing that lady. She looked her way to scan her, and a system message popped up: Immortal factor pattern id@anjk!”f%””/ Interference struck for just a moment. Matoi turned around; no one else was in the hallway anymore. The system message, the girl’s face, and the encounter itself had been deleted from her memory. “Oh, Matoi, honey.” “Eepyah?!” Matoi jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned to the source and found a full-borg man with four naked prosthetic arms; he was big even for an ogre. “What are you doing standing here?” he asked. “Ah, Lord Hio. There was a bunny—” “A bunny?” “Huh?” Matoi was taken aback by how naturally the word came out of her mouth. What was it that I just saw? She looked at the empty hallway. The event was gone from her cognition and storage; she was not aware she had come across an unfamiliar woman who didn’t belong in this city. “…Are you okay? Did you get damaged in the battle?” said Hio. “Negative. Self-diagnosis shows no issue.” “Hmm, you should have Doc check you either way.” “Yes. I was just about to see her.” “Oh, really? You had such a hard battle there, dear. Get some rest, okay?” The big ogre man waved his four arms and walked away into the Bunker. Once Hio was gone, Matoi entered the elevator at the end of the hall, which took her to the lowest layer of the White House. There was a short hallway and a door leading to the Lab. The automatic door opened, revealing a room full of machinery and a pile of junk of an unknown purpose in a corner, as well as a shelf cluttered with analog clocks. In the middle of the familiar sight was a lounge chair. Matoi’s visual sensors noticed an old woman in a hooded white coat sitting on it. “Doc, I’ve arrived.” “You’re here.” Doc welcomed her with a smile. “You could’ve waited for the party to end.” “I am not good with crowded places.” “You’re the only magiroid who says that.” “The commander told me the same thing.” “Well, the president can’t be wrong, huh?” Doc chuckled. Matoi did not know Doc’s real name. Records of her past were missing from the Guild’s database. She created and managed the OrAcle, a series of artificial spirits with fully autonomous thought that became the central control system of the Einherjar combat magiroids. She was also the chief engineer of the Lab and Matoi’s direct creator—her mother. “Hmm?” Matoi caught sight of a pair of women’s underwear hanging from a drying rack in the corner of the room. “Excuse me, Doc, cute and intelligent me has one question. What are those panties for?” “Hee-hee… You want to know? I had a little leak in the aftermath of the battle.” “…I have data showing the bladder becomes weak with age. You are old now. I suggest you consider retirement.” “Don’t treat me like some hag.” “Heh-heh-heh… Statistics show it is not wrong to consider you one.” Matoi kept her eyes unemotional as she curved her lips and held up a horizontal V-sign. “What’s that about…?” “It is a new cutesy pose I’ve developed. I believe I surpass my sisters in cuteness.” “Geez, where do you learn that stuff…? It is cute, though.” “Affirmative. I am your magnum opus.” “Heh. Thank you for the praise. Oh, your hair is messy. C’mere.” “Yes.” Matoi grabbed a stool and sat down with her back to Doc. They always did this. Doc looked at her untidy desk. Cleaning was not her forte. It was cluttered with junk, table clocks, and a circular mithril amulet of the Horodict faith with a six-eye design. Doc took a hairbrush out of the drawer and began brushing Matoi’s hair. The feeling of the brush in her hair and its ends caressing her skincover ran through Matoi’s nervous system. Matoi loved this moment more than anything. This memory was for her alone, not to be synced with her sisters. “Doc.” “Hmm? What is it?” “Question. I’ve always wondered, why are we Einherjars equipped with functions that are unnecessary for combat? I would think hair, for example, is inefficient for battle.” Doc stopped. Matoi thought of herself as a sword. A spear, an arrow, a bullet, a fang, a claw. No more. Saving the world was the Guild’s supreme purpose, and everything else was collateral. She acted human, but she put emphasis on herself as a weapon. Doc thought for a while before resuming brushing. “You don’t like it?” she asked. “Negative; I do like it. I simply can’t solve this question on my own.” “Why combat magiroids are equipped with functions that are unnecessary or inefficient for combat…?” “Yes. My analysis shows all these inefficient functions go against the purpose of our creation.” Assistance magiroids meant to help in people’s daily lives had a reason to resemble humans, but there was no such need for combat magiroids. Hence Matoi thought it inefficient. Doc spoke softly, as though reading a picture book to a young child: “The Einherjar are pure combat magiroids equipped with the OrAcle series of artificial spirits.” “…” “And among them, the magnum opus is the Hero of the Forge—Matoi.” “Yes.” “You are correct. I cannot deny you are disposable weapons meant to be inevitably destroyed. People can easily empathize with humanoids, and because of that, some of us agonize when one of you is destroyed. This isn’t beneficial to the organization.” “Then why?” “It’s a matter of pride. This battle is for the survival of the mortals. We created you not as mere machines, but as living beings, and we treat you as such. Using and disposing of unliving machines would make us no different from our enemy. And, you see, I don’t want you to just be combat dolls. I want you to be people.” “People?” That was impossible. A person was defined as an autonomous being with a soul and high-level thought. A soul could only be found in the living. No matter how outstanding, no matter their capability to show emotion identical to a human’s, an artificial spirit magiroid could not obtain a soul. Knowing that, Matoi said, “I’ll try my best.” “Ah-ha-ha, you really are different from your sisters. That’s so cute of you.” Doc smiled like a child. Matoi always thought the woman was childish for her age. “Agreed. My sisters may be cute, but I am the cutest.” She made a horizontal V-sign. “All right, you’re perfect now.” Doc finished brushing and pushed Matoi’s back. All the tension and stress emitting from her idea circuit were gone; calm cheer and bliss spread through her central circuits. “Thank you, Doc. Moments like this may be exactly what I fight for.” “Hey, I can do this however many times you want.” Matoi made a vow. Yes, to protect this happiness…I will fight anything. A solid oath by the Hero sworn to protect this world. Unbeknownst to her, that world would end in a matter of hours. “The spatial distortion in the air defense zone continues to grow!” “Pentagon operational!” “Civilian shelter evacuation is at fifty percent!” “Supplying from giga aether line! Launching pseudo-soul reincarnation reaction, Neo Six Paths engine running at full speed! Sixty-four Gungnir gates, eight Trishura gates, ready for launch! Loading Brionac; two hundred and twelve seconds until ready for launch!” “What about the Endgame Countermeasure Holy Nail?! Everyone, prepare for combat!” The Bunker was in an uproar like a jostled beehive. The operators worked the control panels desperately as reports were yelled from everywhere. The party was over. The enemy had struck while the main troops who had fought the Duchess of Weal and Woe were resting. Matoi was dressed in her combat vestments, standing next to Commander Albert. “Suggestion. Commander, considering the circumstances, I should be deployed right away.” “No, I don’t want you to be eliminated. Remain on standby until a new order comes.” “…Roger.” Matoi was idle. She prided herself as the Hero and knew she had to protect everyone, but she could not ignore orders and leave. “Spatial distortion ninety-eight…ninety-nine… We have a shift reaction! A large portal is opening!” The giant monitor displayed the skies over Washington. Within the air defense zone—the Pentagon’s detection area—a giant gate appeared. It was a portal connecting coordinates between two different spaces. Steel-covered dragons flew through the gate. “Mechanized dragons detected! Four hundred and thirty-two wyrms, thirty-six lindwurms, twelve dragons!” The steel dragons had propulsion devices on their wings, which, on top of the Dragonwing Effect, made them the swift rulers of the heavens. The skies of this world were dominated by mechanized dragons. However, humanity was also prepared. “All Gungnir gates ready to fire!” “Fire all Gungnir gates!” “Fire!” With Albert’s command, the sixty-four surface-to-air magi-optical weapons shot red lances of light toward the dragons of steel. The video feed was corrupted by the resulting explosions. “Are they down?!” “No, there’s enemy feedback! They’re still standing!” The video feed stabilized. Mechanized dragons emerged from the smoke. “That can’t be! Gungnir made a direct hit!” Mechanized dragons were still organic beneath the surface; the magic-repelling Dragonscale Effect was effective on Gungnir. Nonetheless, Gungnir’s power was massive. It was unthinkable that not even one would be felled. This meant something else had shielded them against Gungnir. “Titanic Dragonscale Effect reaction detected!” There was only one creature in the skies with such scales. “Titanic-class mechanized dragon warship! Black Dragon Duchess detected!” A giant black dragon, bulked up to three hundred meters long with mechanical armor, emerged from the portal in the sky. One of the True Six Dark Peers and the strongest under the command of the Eschaton Demon Lord. “Mini-portal opening in the Washington environs!” “Immortal factor pattern detected! Desecration, Thunder Slash, and Iron Shell emerging from the portal!” The monitor zoomed in on the three figures. First was a young blond man holding the rusty silver Holy Sword. Second was a woman in a suit holding a sheathed katana. Third was a ten-meter-tall magi-gear of debase form. “They’re sending all their combat Dark Peers?!” Albert cried. “Don’t engage the Duchess of the Thunder Slash; just keep her unsteady! But don’t let them completely off the hook! Throw as many thunderbolts as possible at the Duke of the Iron Shell!” “What about the Duke of Desecration?!” an operator asked. “…Leave him to the Paladin,” Albert ordered while opening a personal comms line. “Paladin, report in.” “Hiya, it’s meee. Their surprise attack is going swimminglyyy,” a young woman responded with much more cheer than the situation called for. “Hey, I know I’ve been alive a long time, but I gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a worse set of circumstances!” “Can you make it?” “If you’re asking if I can make it, then yes. I could survive. But I don’t think the whole group can win.” “…I see. I want you to take on the Duke of Desecration. I don’t think anyone else can.” “Okey-dokey! Beef up the east and west, then. I’ll go do something about the fallen former Hero in the south by myself. I mean, hey, it’s the mentor’s job to give her stupid pupil a scolding for forgetting his role as the Hero!” “We’re counting on you. I’m glad we hired you.” “I don’t usually take sides, y’know! You better get me a literal ocean of your best liquor when it’s over.” “I promise.” The Paladin dropped the call. The disadvantage was obvious. The operators looked panicked. “Three True Dark Peers…after all the damage just one of them caused…” “Stand your ground! We have the Pentagon. They can’t touch us.” Washington was protected by the barrier of the holy Pentagon; this powerful shield blocked physical and magical interference. No matter how strong the True Six Dark Peers were, breaking through this wall was impossible. “Further spatial distortion detected in the large portal! That’s…” The portal the Black Dragon Duchess had emerged from grew larger. From there, a gigantic shadow. “That’s Shinjuku, the Flying Demon Castle City!” A city. A gigantic city in the sky appeared in the air defense zone. Glowing skyscrapers and the Tocho Titanic Reincarnation Furnace. The Demon Castle stood high like a mountain. The moving fortress in the sky—the Flying Demon Castle City of Shinjuku. The abode of the Eschaton Demon Lord Veltol. “The man himself…! Hey, at least they saved us the trouble of going after him!” one operator, the four-armed ogre Hio, exclaimed while looking at the giant city in the sky. Then the monitor showing Shinjuku went dark. “What? Is the power down?” “N-no, the power is fine. But we’ve lost control…” “We can’t use Gungnir, Trishura, or Brionac!” “We’ve lost the Pentagon!” “What?! What is happening?!” “Someone has hijacked the White House’s main control system!” “Hacking…? We’re not connected to the aethernet!” In the year 2149, one of the True Six Dark Peers, the Aether Hacker Duchess, had seized control of the aethernet and turned the fruits of humanity’s knowledge against humanity. As a result, civilization had partially regressed from magic-based to electric, machine-based. The White House ran on electric power as well; the Aether Hacker Duchess, even with her masterful skills, should not have been able to interfere with it. The monitor turned back on, showing a grotesque rabbit skull. “Phantom Runner… It really was you, little bunny!” said Hio. “I have no idea what magic you used, but we’re putting a stop to this now. Cut the system from the main and pull control over here! Can’t box a quantum rabbit—let’s grill it in miso!” Two more arms appeared from Hio’s four prosthetic ones, and the fingers on all eight arms began typing spells at high speed on the console keyboard and the 3D keyboards deployed around him. “Tsk…! You’re as dirty as ever, bunny rabbit!” Then the rabbit skull on the screen disappeared. “The feed is back?!” “Not yet! It’s—” A voice interrupted: “Listen, mortals, sufferers of the pain of life.” It was hard to tell whether it was a man or a woman, young or old. Next, the speaker appeared on-screen. A dragon skull with two twisted horns that pierced the heavens. A cloak as though made from darkness itself. A body soaked in shadow and four bony limbs like withered branches. Deep in the dragon skull, eyes burning bright vermilion like flames. “Immortal factor pattern detected… That is…” Everyone in the Bunker gasped as he spoke his name: “It is I, the Eschaton Demon Lord Veltol.” The leader of the Six Dark Peers who formed the New Demon Lord Army, the vehicle for humanity’s destruction. The Immortal King of the darklings. The enemy of all humans. “I shall show you mortals some mercy.” Blood dripped from the skull’s orbits as the Eschaton Demon Lord spoke. “You may take your own lives.” The words reached the ears of everyone listening and transformed into electrical signals within their brains. And yet those same words were so ludicrous no one could process them. “Well? Why are you refraining from suicide? I intend to torture you as long as possible during your destruction. I am allowing you to choose death for yourselves before falling into such a fate. Is this not mercy?” The Eschaton Demon Lord continued: “There is no meaning to life. No light. No value in limited life. It is but an illusion. There is no reason to maintain a world where your loved ones die. I have reached a conclusion. There is no meaning to your lives.” “Fu—” The first to open his mouth was the commander-in-chief and president, Albert. “Fuck off! We won’t give in after hearing that nonsense! We’ll fight so long as our life shines! That is what humanity is all about!” “I see,” the Eschaton Demon Lord said with deep disappointment as he took in Albert’s words. “In that case…I shall destroy you. As many times as necessary.” The Eschaton Demon Lord’s thin arm pointed to the heavens. “Del Stella.” Then the end began. A red, glowing, flaming meteor of insulated, compressed air shot at the Pentagon-less Washington. “Plates one through fifty-two damaged!” “Damage has reached the city! Heavy damage!” “The True Six Dark Peers have broken in!” “The Duke of Desecration has unleashed Ixasorde Diel! Signal growing! Encountering Paladin!” “Thunder Slash and Iron Shell have commenced battle!” A storm of reports followed shock and rumble. “I must go…!” Matoi could not stand back and watch. “Commander, I’ll join the fight!” “Go!” Albert cried. “You help the defense team and buy us time until the Pentagon is back online. Once that happens, you’ll face the Eschaton Demon Lord Veltol!” “What about the True Six Dark Peers?” “Someone else has to take care of them. You’re the only one with a chance of defeating the Eschaton Demon Lord.” “Roger. Matoi sorties!” As she left the Bunker for the hallway, someone grabbed her hand. “Wait!” It was Doc. “Haaah…haaah… Thank goodness,” she said. “I made it in time.” Doc was breathing heavily; she’d forced her aging body to run all this way. She looked panicked and desperate—as did Matoi. “My apologies, Doc! This an emergency; we can talk la—” “Matoi!” Matoi’s memory contained no recollection of Doc using such a loud voice. “Come,” Doc said. “But—” “This mission is your top priority!” Doc held her hand tight and pulled her away. The two walked through the pandemonium and got on the elevator to the underground. Doc sent the elevator all the way down to the Lab. “Excuse me, Doc… What is this priority mission…?” She did not answer the question. Matoi’s idea circuit burned in desperation. What was she doing while everyone in the Guild fought? The elevator was uncomfortably loud. They reached the Lab where Doc had just brushed her hair. Doc walked to a corner of the room and tossed aside the piled-up junk. “Matoi, help me get this stuff out of the way.” “…Roger.” The floor came into view under the pile. There was a hatch. Engraved on it were the words First Lab. Doc opened it, revealing a long staircase on the other side. “There’s more underground…? And it says First Lab…” “Yes. To be accurate, this is the Second Lab. It was built on top of the first one after it was abandoned,” Doc said as she went down the stairs. She opened the thick door at the end of the staircase. It was dark on the other side. Doc pulled down the electricity lever on the wall, and the First Lab revived with a mechanical whir. It was still dark inside, even with the light—just a single old lamp that creaked under the shock of the battle above. The room was covered in dust, showing how long it had been neglected. In the middle of it was something big, covered by cloth. Doc pulled the cloth off, throwing dust into the air. Under it was a chair connected to multiple cables. Matoi recalled from her memory bank a film she’d watched in the recreation room in which a criminal was executed in an electric chair. Doc placed her hand on the back of the chair and said, “Sit down.” The rumble above ground echoed all the way to the First Lab; pieces of the ceiling fell. “…What is this?” Matoi asked. “There’s no time. Just sit down.” Matoi did as she was told. “D-Doc…?” Doc secured Matoi in place with a belt and worked the machinery swiftly. “What is this…?” Matoi asked. Doc checked the gauges while operating the console and replied: “A time machine.” It took some time for Matoi to process the simple answer. “A time…machine…?” “Space-time magicology describes this world as a tree. It’s the space-time tree theory. And the branches—the space-time branches—extend infinitely in constant intervals, and at the end of one of these branches is where we are. You can’t normally go forward or backward from the end of that branch, but a time machine does away with that law to activate time-travel magic.” “I know that! That’s not what I mean. There’s no way such a thing can exi—” “I’m telling you it exists, Matoi. This is it.” Doc didn’t seem like she was joking. She wouldn’t joke around in such an emergency to begin with. “About twenty years ago, as humanity’s territory kept shrinking under the New Demon Lord Army, the Guild designed a plan to change things,” Doc explained calmly. “Its name: the Back to the Future Project. To save humanity’s future by altering the past. A pipedream—that we managed to make reality. In theory, at least. I was part of the development team.” Doc talked as though it was no big deal. But Matoi knew the path there must’ve been more difficult than she could even imagine. “It is perfect in theory. My mother—the notes she left behind helped me complete the device.” “Question. I don’t understand why you didn’t use it if it was complete.” “It’s got a huge defect. The most common theory in contemporary space-time magicology says if one were to go back to the past and alter cause and effect, the current timeline of 2149 would disappear, and us with it.” “Disappear… So altering the past would create a paradox, causing everything on the branch that occurred from that point forward to vanish. Correct?” “Exactly. And we didn’t find a way to overcome this. The president before Albert put the project on ice. It’d mean destruction either way if we couldn’t survive, he said,” Doc muttered bitterly. “He closed off the Lab and ordered us to destroy the time machine. I hid it all, though. Then I joined the Einherjar project the Guild had been working on at the same time. The OrAcle artificial spirit-powered humanoid autonomous weapons.” “And then we came to be.” “Yep.” Doc nodded. “Now the enemy has launched a successful surprise attack. I’m not knowledgeable about war, but I can tell we’re going to lose this one. That’s why I brought you here.” “…” Matoi still wanted to run to the aid of her comrades. The impulse came from somewhere other than her idea circuit’s logical thinking. The chances weren’t zero, but her calculations did show a most likely defeat. “This time machine is finished on paper—it’s never been tested. We’re still taking our chances here, but if the Eschaton Demon Lord destroys everything, then it’s the same as if everything vanished from changing the past. Better bet on this one, right?” “Did you tell the commander…?” “No. He knows nothing. I’m acting on my own.” Doc paused her hands and shot Matoi a severe glance. “Matoi, humanity’s last Hero. As lead engineer, I’m giving you your final quest.” “Yes.” “It’s a journey into doom. You must alter the past and erase this timeline. Whether you succeed or fail, not only you, but I, our comrades, and the world you fought to protect will disappear. Still, I ask of you—change the future.” Chagrin, disgrace, humiliation, ignominy. Doc spoke with indescribable shame. Even with a mechanical body and magical brain, Matoi could tell how Doc felt. So… “Roger. I will handle it, Doc.” …Matoi, humanity’s last Hero, nodded resolutely. It was an important mission full of uncertainties. Who knew if this would work to begin with? Still, she was sure she would accomplish it. “The Eschaton Demon Lord Veltol began annihilating humanity in the far east in 2099. The turning point must be somewhere there. The machine will determine the turning point and transport you to a nearby time and place.” “So I will go to the past and slay the Eschaton Demon Lord Veltol.” “Yes. If you defeat him, there is a high chance we can avoid annihilation. He created this situation. But…” Doc pondered for a moment. “…there’s a chance he might not be the one you have to defeat.” “What do you mean…?” “I mean you must consider every possibility. A fight might be unavoidable in the end, but fighting is not your only choice. Also…” Doc touched Matoi and connected to her encrypted comms. Through them, she installed a few programs and documentation on Matoi’s idea circuit. Pseudo Eye of the Horodict installed. Space-time divergence measurement program installed. Causality interference measurement program installed. Doc gripped Matoi’s hand tightly. “We don’t know where you’ll end up, and we don’t know how likely it is you’ll succeed. You won’t have any support there. You’ll be by yourself to complete this mission.” “I understand. I’ll do it. I’m outstanding. But Doc…you can’t come with me?” “The machine is built for just one person. And you have the best chance of pulling this off.” “I see…” “You’ve got this.” Doc gripped Matoi’s hand tighter. “I’m sorry,” she said. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” The tears fell on her decrepit, spindly, yet beautiful fingers. “Question. I don’t understand the logic behind your crying.” “I’m ordering my child to leave me forever. What could be sadder…?” “Negative. I calculate that tears are unnecessary, Doc,” Matoi countered. “I…” Many emotions were produced as her idea circuit overheated; her vocal medium was too thin on data to convey them. The words wouldn’t output. She couldn’t find a way to transmit her feelings. Instead, she softly held Doc’s hand. “…I’m sorry, Doc. I can’t put it into words.” Technically, her expressions couldn’t change much. Yet Matoi smiled. “But please, please do not cry. I’ve received so much love from you. And let me tell you one more thing.” “Matoi…” “Thank you so much for creating me and making me so cute.” Matoi made a horizontal V-sign, the latest cutesy pose in the year 2149 FE. “I’m going, Doc. I’ll save the world.” “Go, Matoi. Trust your sense of justice.” Matoi booted up the time machine and set the time-traveling magic in motion. There was not enough to say as parting words, but there was no time to tell it all. There was no physical shock to the time traveler. “…!” However, Matoi’s idea circuit made her feel pushed to the back, like under the inertia of a flying vehicle in sudden takeoff. The counter-timestream magic made the surrounding aether kick up a storm. Her memories flashed before her. Doc’s messy desk, with the clocks and six-eyed amulet on it. Doc’s lab coat’s hood was blown back, and Matoi saw inside it for the first time. She instantly referenced all the data in her memory. Her memories of the sight after her first boot-up, of her sisters and comrades in the Hero Corps, of the citizens of Washington. Undecipherable static flooded her idea circuit. Cleaning solution spilled from the corners of her visual device lenses. And the next moment, she let out a scream. “■■■■!” She could no longer hear any sound once the counter-timestream began. She knew it was too late, but she tried reaching out. Her movements were terribly sluggish compared to her intent. Doc and her surroundings were pulled and stretched away. Only Matoi’s thoughts continued as everything around her kept being pulled away into white light, before even that was pulled away into darkness. Then a floating sensation. The regret of one thing she had left to say remained. She was sure she could push herself to say it next time, yet there would be no next time. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the counter-timestream travel came to a close. Month of the ■■■■■■■, Day ■, 2■■9, F■, ■■:■■ The first thing Matoi felt was gravity. Snowy static filled her vision; it was hard to tell where she was. “Hnnn…” The static subsided bit by bit; her vision began to return. I’m here… Her remaining ability to calculate proved she had safely crossed time. It…worked… The view surrounding her was, naturally, not the underground laboratory. She lay on an altar made of skullia. Her idea circuit surmised she was in a temple. “Doc…” Of course, Doc was not there. Sadness, regret—Matoi pushed these emotional waveforms down and concentrated on the mission. She could do this solely because she was a machine. She lowered her field of view and found herself naked. The combat vestment she had on was gone. Her skincover, hair, nervous system, mana engine, and other magic motors seemed to be unharmed. Matoi surmised her combat vestment had vanished en route because it was made of aether thread. Her defenses were greatly diminished, but she had to take the hit and move on. Overload smoke came from the time machine as she stood up and ran a check on her operations. The impact from the time travel had damaged her slightly, but her organic-metal frame could be restored by pouring mana into it, and her skincover was made of red dragon cells that automatically regenerated. She could recover without any special treatment. “All green.” She then ran a self-diagnostic and got results back right away. Control system error in mythic performance armament Gulagalad. Limited use of drive mode; full-drive and overload modes unavailable. Restoring system. Immortal factor and causality interference measurement programs unavailable. Restoring system. Teleportation magic Swampman unavailable. Impossible to restore system. External memory storage damaged. Impossible to restore system. Numerous systems were failing, and some were unusable. The damage to Swampman and the external memory storage was particularly discouraging. Unlike Matoi’s regular memory storage, which contained her personal and synced experiences, the external memory storage was the database of outside installations. Now Matoi could only rely on her own experiences and memories. That said, she was fortunate to have lost only that much after going through untested time travel. “First, I must get out of here.” Judging from the terrain, air, and aether, she was underground. Matoi walked up to the surface. She traversed the otherworldly building and up the long, stopped escalators until she reached the labyrinth’s exit. She opened a heavy metal door and was blinded by the light that streamed in. There it was—the world. The outside was filled with far more information than she had learned in the White House. The light was overwhelming. Vivid and bright aether neon burned her visual device. Light seeped from the buildings’ windows. Light glowed from the commercials on the giant holographic displays on the buildings’ walls. Light shone from the red lanterns hanging from the eaves. It ran from the taillights of the old ground vehicles that seemed to crawl along the streets. It blinked from the drones and flying vehicles soaring through the skies. Light, light, light, light… It was all multiple times brighter than anything in Washington, humanity’s last stronghold. Matoi was overwhelmed by the amount of new information not sourced from the OrAcle’s calculation power. System partially restored. The system voice read the time and coordinates that appeared on her visual interface. Aether clock synchronized. It is currently year 2099 of the Fused Era. Month of the Gryphon, Day 2, 08:12. Coordinates: Shinjuku City.