Chapter 94

“To be honest, I’m not sure I understand your situation. Japanese school life sounds like a coexistence of opposite extremes.” Ollerus shrugged a little. “I told you I wanted to talk, didn’t I?” “About what? And starting where?” “Now, that’s the problem. Where to start, indeed?” He seemed to fret over this, but Kamijou wasn’t sure if the guy was genuinely worried. Ollerus was close enough to being a magic god that he could touch it. What did he have to worry about? It turned out Kamijou was right. “Well, no point getting on my high horse and starting from square one,” Ollerus said simply. “I’ll explain things at the heart, and then you can ask questions, and I’ll fill in the gaps for you. That’ll be fastest.” “‘The heart’?” “Othinus, the magic god,” said Ollerus—the man who’d never called himself anything more than someone who should have become one. “Unlike me, you could call her a magic god in a perfected state. There is essentially nothing in the world she cannot do. Gremlin is bound together by her strength, so if you understand her motives, then you’ll understand the group’s. And…” He paused there, then looked at Kamijou’s right hand. “Fiamma of the Right may have triggered a world war to obtain your right hand, but Gremlin and Othinus aren’t after your Imagine Breaker. That’s the first thing I want you to keep in mind… The second is since they don’t need your ability for their plans, they don’t need to show you any consideration. They will have no mercy, no thoughtfulness; if you get in their way, they will come to kill you. That’s who you’re up against.” “……” It was easy to forget Kamijou was only a high school student. He had a lot of specialized experience now, but he was no formally trained soldier or martial artist. He wasn’t being supplied with professional gear or anything, either. Obviously, taking on an internationally active organization would put him at an incredible disadvantage. The mere fact he was considering doing so was proof of his amateurish miscalculations; he couldn’t gauge each side’s power against one another. Now that he was involved and had shown he could actually beat members of Gremlin in a fight, he was past the point of no return. If Kamijou withdrew, Gremlin would simply come to him to end things. And. Now that he was so involved, he didn’t plan on backing out halfway, either. Because if he gave up, it would be more than just his head on the chopping block. “You see, Gremlin formed because of Fiamma sparking World War III,” stated Ollerus. Even the English Church, professionals when it came to this kind of roughhousing, probably didn’t have this information. “Their mission statement is essentially, ‘Everyone decided Academy City and the science side won the war, but who even got to make that call?’ At the time, certainly no sorcerer was in the spotlight as much as Fiamma was…but he’s not everything a sorcerer can be—we haven’t even gotten a chance to go onstage—so don’t name yourself representative of all sorcerers and then lose, asshole. That’s basically what they’re insisting.” Was that why Gremlin was based on Norse mythology instead of Crossism? The Crossist alliance of Rome and Russia had lost. Were they angry at people assigning that loss to their own cultural sphere as well? “…Sounds like they’re pretty selfish,” said Kamijou. “They didn’t help during World War III because they didn’t want to get involved, and now they’re complaining they lost?” “Well, they wouldn’t have gained anything from helping Fiamma. And the people higher than Fiamma had things pretty much figured out: Even if he completed his system and everything was a success, the world wouldn’t be saved in the way he wanted.” Gremlin couldn’t accept the loss others were assigning to them. So they would settle the score personally next time. If Gremlin really was a ragtag fighting force brought together by an ideal like that, then… “Sorcerers’ societies have centuries of history behind them, if not millennia. Unlike those groups, however, Gremlin doesn’t have one unified ideal. A bunch of individual sorcerers picked up on the defeatist attitude after World War III, and then they started coming out of the woodwork, smashing their complaints about unfairness and injustice all together into one big ball called Gremlin. Naturally, sorcerers like them will try to prepare a suitable symbol to represent the sorcery side, in opposition to the winner, Academy City.” “…And that symbol is the magic god Othinus?” “Yeah, so the balance of power is easy to understand. Though we don’t know if Othinus brought all the sorcerers together or if the sorcerers rallied to her. Either way, the Academy City side of the scale has a huge weight on it now, so Gremlin likely wants to power up Othinus as much as they can… In essence, you can think of it like this: The group’s objective is to make Othinus’s selfish wishes come true.” “But can’t a magic god do anything and everything? Why would she need anyone else to help her pull it off?” “How do I put this? It’s because she can do anything that she creates problems.” Ollerus smiled sardonically, as if pitying a comrade. “Infinite possibilities is a great catchphrase, but if Othinus holds infinite good possibilities, then she also holds infinite bad ones.” “?” “Maybe it’s hard for someone young enough to still believe in infinite possibilities to understand. Consider a coin toss. It’s a fifty-fifty chance to get heads or tails. That’s the true nature of infinite possibilities. Each time Othinus takes an action, she has both a chance to succeed and a chance to fail. No matter how much she trains or practices, she still has a fifty percent chance to lose in a children’s quarrel. That’s how a magic god works.” Fifty percent was a big number. It was like starting a game of Russian roulette with three bullets in the chamber. “Academy City are the victors of this era. Gremlin and Othinus want to do something big against Academy City, and since the odds are so weak, they’ve got to fix them. Gremlin will want to wield what power they’ve gained to its full potential. They’re looking for a one hundred percent chance to grasp victory. To pull it off, they’ve needed to make some adjustments, some preparations. That was what bubbled up to the surface in Hawaii and Baggage City.” “…You’re telling me that was all nothing but prep work?” “You know, the name Othinus is an alternate reading of Odin, the highest god in the Norse pantheon. I think they’re following along with his legends. They’re trying to use Soul Arms symbolizing Odin’s nature to readjust Odin’s nature… Norse myths are myths of weapons. In those stories, the might of the gods manifests as powerful armaments. It’s really not that hard to figure out what Othinus is going for.” Ollerus’s tone was casual as he continued his explanation, disseminating information directly linked to the world’s very future. “Gungnir, the divine spear—a Soul Arm representing Odin’s martial prowess as god among gods. I’ll bet that’s why Othinus is messing with stuff all over the world: to assemble Gungnir. And perfect it.” The construction of the furnace using volcanic energy in Hawaii. The dvergr with the crafting skills to make legendary weapons from Norse mythology. The theft of the schematics from the mind of Brunhild Eichtbel, the Valkyrie who had once successfully forged a piece of the legendary spear. “That said, Gungnir wasn’t supposed to ever be completed. At least, not by only using the technologies that currently exist on Earth. But in Baggage City, Gremlin took even that condition out of the picture.” “?” “The development of holistic supernatural abilities is a technology that does not exist on Earth. Hypothetically, if someone could make that a reality, then Gremlin would be able to reach for completely new possibilities. They’d have the last piece of Gungnir.” When that spear was complete, Gremlin—and Othinus, the magic god leading them—would take definite action against the entire world. They’d do something that would make all the major conflicts and strife thus far actually seem like simple prep work. And with full fearless use of a power that had always carried a 50 percent risk of failure before. Ollerus was right. That would be catastrophic. Kamijou didn’t fully understand the terror of a magic god. Othinus had crushed his right hand, but even that hadn’t given him a glimpse of how deep her power ran. Still, he knew one thing for sure. He just had to think about it like this: Gremlin’s nature, which they’d shown in Hawaii and Baggage City, would continue to expand throughout the world. And he was pretty sure nobody except for Gremlin would want the hopeless changes that came with it. However. At the same time. “……” Kamijou glanced at his right hand. If Othinus’s goal was to manipulate her own possibility space, which normally gave everything a fifty-fifty chance of success, she didn’t need some sacred spear Soul Arm called Gungnir to do that, did she? Yes. His Imagine Breaker. His right hand nullified all sorcery. So in terms of possibilities, it wasn’t a stretch to say his hand set everything to zero percent. Maybe it worked the opposite way from Othinus, who sought greater power and a 100 percent chance, but if they were polar opposites…then she’d be able to take advantage of that, wouldn’t she? For example, let’s say every path you ever chose was always going to turn out to be the wrong one. In that case, by always choosing the opposite road, you would be able to take the correct path every time. Othinus would have plenty of ways to get what she wanted if she set that permanent failure state in stone. What bound her was that true balance of 50 percent. There was no way to take advantage of that—and once you knew the result, you couldn’t go back in time. This had led to her standstill. It didn’t matter which direction she spun the wheel—success or failure—because she would at least be able to determine her future course that way. And if that was the case… Then wouldn’t that make Kamijou’s right hand valuable to Gremlin? “Oh, no worries on that front.” Ollerus’s answer to his question was short and simple. “Imagine Breaker isn’t compatible with Othinus’s ideals to begin with. Even if she realized it would benefit her, she wouldn’t think to actually use it.” “What do you mean…?” “C’mon, you’re killin’ me here, askin’ all these questions before answering mine,” said Ollerus, his expression not changing in the slightest. “Can I get down to the meat and bones of the issue with you? You use Imagine Breaker a lot. Do you know what it really is?” 6 November’s cold brought with it a decrease in open-air café business. Among the crowds flooding Academy City to prepare for some festival or other sat a few very obvious anomalies. All the tables at the café they had chosen were empty, save for theirs. The members of the group gave off the impression they just didn’t understand the finer points of the world, but they didn’t seem to mind this. The first person at the table was a dark-skinned girl with red-framed glasses, her silvery hair in a long braid. She wore a pair of overalls directly atop bare skin, making for a highly exposing outfit that was highly unsuited for the November weather. Nevertheless, she’d swaggered about in the same getup in Baggage City, located in the Arctic Circle in Eastern Europe, and she showed no more sign of shivering from the cold now than she had then. The second was Mjölnir. She (?) had lost every recognizable part of her human form, and now she looked like a black oil drum that stood a little over a meter tall. While she would have stuck out like a sore thumb on the streets of a normal city, Academy City brimmed with oil drum–shaped robots for cleaning and security, for better or worse. One more didn’t cause any particular fuss; the residents seemed to accept her as a part of this group. And the third one. A boy, delicate of frame, with pale white skin. That, plus his waist-length blond hair, gave him an effeminate vibe. His clothing consisted of mainly yellows and blacks, with a tight-fitting shirt and pants, plus a shawl around his shoulders. Of the group of three, he appeared to be the most normal…but in reality, he was the least. Thor. Sometimes called the god of thunder, he was a true warrior, even within Gremlin; his role was specifically to take command of direct combat operations. His might was prodigious, enough to actualize the very concept of war with just his individual strength alone. …However. “Mgrrr… Ugh, I can’t get myself going…” Marianne Sringeneier, all her energy suddenly gone, slumped over the table. Beside her, Mjölnir rattled back and forth a bit to express her concern and worry for her. They were both official members of Gremlin, the organization seeking to upend the world, but in Thor’s opinion, they weren’t all that great relative to the other people on the team. Despite the group’s size, the members were all surprisingly unconcerned with hierarchical relationships. Of course, getting into Gremlin at all was a problem. …Well, if Marianne’s not doing so hot, it’s probably because Kagun Kihara died, decided Thor offhandedly. Othinus the magic god was apparently still using Kihara as a puppet, but a puppet could never be anything more than that. No trace remained of his former life, and he would never go back to the way he’d been before his death. That said… Without Kagun Kihara’s “scent,” as it were, Marianne Sringeneier probably would have given up more on herself than she already had. To be honest, Thor wasn’t happy with how she was hanging around him in such a state when she already tended to be unstable. There was no telling when his entire view of reality would suddenly turn psychedelic. Combat was Thor’s specialty. He’d been single-minded in his pursuit of fighting others directly, and it had developed to the point where that was equivalent to all-out war. However. That didn’t mean the thought of spilling blood turned him on. He wasn’t some weirdo. He couldn’t stand gory movies, and he kept haunted houses at an arm’s length. That was why, he always gave a firm warning before getting started. “Hey. No precautionary attacks, remember?” he said. “Right, right…” “And that means no human modification just so you have a stock of tools for when the fighting starts, either, stupid. Do you even understand what I’m telling you?” “…Yeah, yeah…” They were right smack in the middle of enemy territory, and yet the only replies he could get out of Marianne were vague and noncommittal. The girl (?) in the form of a black oil drum rattled back and forth again. 7 What Imagine Breaker really was. That’s what Ollerus had said. Did he know the answer? Of course he did. Why else would he ask the question like that? But how? Didn’t the thing residing in Kamijou’s right hand come from the science side? “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the power in your hand isn’t a product of Academy City’s Ability Development tech,” said Ollerus plainly. “Of course, there are other examples of science-side abilities created without Academy City’s intervention: Uncut Gems, those unique espers who come into their powers naturally, outside this place… But there’s no proof you’re one of them, either. You’re someone with an abnormal power that developed outside Academy City. If I put it like that…well, this would make you a gray area, wouldn’t it?” “……” “When a group found you and interpreted you, well, it just so happened that group was Academy City, part of the science side. Nothing more. That’s why you’re convinced you can explain yourself with science… Here’s a hypothetical. If the sorcery side—say, the English Puritan Church—had picked you up when you were little, they would have explained you using their logic instead. You would have been convinced you were part of the sorcery side.” “Right… So what on earth is Imagine Breaker…?” “Well, that’s something you should figure out for yourself. But if you want to know how someone in my position would interpret it…” Gremlin wasn’t just science, and it wasn’t just sorcery. Ollerus was one of its two leaders, the other being Othinus. The man who should have become a magic god—his interpretation. “You—or should I say, the power in your right hand is essentially the condensation of every sorcerer’s fears and wishes.” “What?” “Those who master sorcery become magic gods. But even an omnipotent deity has fears. And I’m not just talking about that fifty percent restriction from before. I mean primal fears any sane, reasonable person would have when possessed of so much power.” While Ollerus would be one of the people most familiar with that fear, his expression remained steady. Was the mind of someone who had progressed that far simply beyond the ken of regular people? “Think back to Terra of the Left. A unique sorcerer who belonged to God’s Right Seat, just like Fiamma of the Right. If we put things in terms of his system of power, he was likely the closest among them to discovering Imagine Breaker’s true nature… Even closer than Fiamma, most likely. He researched the contradictions inherent in the power relation between the Son of God and the human who killed him. The result of which was an outstandingly unique spell called Light’s Execution.” “?” “Your Imagine Breaker is similar. It has effects that only manifest at the turning points of epochs and legends.” How did that link back to the fears of a magic god? Ollerus continued. “Magic gods bend reality to their will. This isn’t inherently an issue, but they may not always be able to return it back to normal. They live in the world where any desire, no matter how childish, becomes real—say, turning all the water in sewage pipes into orange juice. After bending reality time and time again, they run the risk of doing significant harm. Even if they try to revert things, once reality is too distorted, they may actually lose sight of what the original world was like in the first place. Where a magic god reigns, one meter can be longer or shorter, and one gram can be lighter or heavier.” “Okay, so that’s the fear. What’s the wish?” “Well, that kind of a world would be terrifying, right? You’d want some kind of insurance, just in case you go too far changing things to fit your whims, wouldn’t you? Broadly speaking, that would be a backup or a restore point for the world or a point of reference. Your right hand is kind of like the International Prototype of the Kilogram, I’d say. Even if someone warps the world beyond recognition, even if they forget the length of a meter or the weight of a gram, your right hand can cancel out all sorcery. The reference point would still exist. By taking your right hand and measuring the length, weight, temperature, and all that, the person who twisted reality too far would be able to recall what the former world had been like. Imagine Breaker would be a lifeline that lets them revert the world back at any time, no matter how drastically they’ve warped it.” That was the wish. With insurance, a magic god could indulge themselves to their heart’s content. They wouldn’t need any restraint or mercy. They could throw their desires and ambitions around as much as they wanted. In that sense, the wish—created unilaterally by the person in charge of the changes—was an incredibly selfish one. “Powers much like yours have appeared throughout history. They might take the form of a weapon, passing into the hand of valiant heroes. Or they could be a wall painting rumored to cure those who touch it of any illnesses. Or perhaps a cave that functions as a trial of some sort… The thing in your hand right now could just be another one of those forces. Or it could be multiple, occurring naturally, all assembled into a different form each time that wish is lost. I don’t know. But I do know this: Your right hand functions as the world’s reference point.” Ollerus paused there, then went even further. “The magic god Othinus hates how the world allowed Academy City, the science side, to win. She wants to distort it. From her point of view, not only does a backup have no value, it’s actively her greatest opposition. Even if Gremlin changed the age we live in, if something still remained that would allow it to be restored, they wouldn’t wish for it. They would fear it. Hence why she doesn’t seek Imagine Breaker… I mean, look at her organization. The only way to move forward they can think of is to cut off their lifelines anyway, right? Insurance is pointless to them. It’s just a foul temptation. And there is no greater insurance than the all-nullifying Imagine Breaker.” 8 It was evening. Normally, this was about the time when everyone headed home from school, but this restriction had been lifted now that prep for the Ichihanaran Festival was underway. Kamijou had been temporarily released from school for only a short break to refresh himself. “…I’m screwed.” Index would still be in his dorm room, but it didn’t seem like he’d be able to get back there anytime soon. While festival setup was partially to blame for this, he also doubted he’d have time for any detours until he figured out why Ollerus was here and whether he could be certain of their safety. Academy City’s security was incredibly tight. While many sorcerers had slipped inside before, Kamijou doubted it had been an easy task. They couldn’t have entered without taking on significant costs and risks to themselves. What, then, merited Ollerus coming here? It couldn’t have only been to answer Kamijou’s questions, surely. A skin-piercing chill had already crept up on him. He felt a kind of loss in his heart, possibly because he’d left the hustle and bustle of his classroom. The feeling seemed to make him remember them: Ollerus, who should have become a magic god, and Othinus, who had exceeded him and actually become one. And then there was Gremlin. How much longer would this pointless, peaceful interlude last? Would Kamijou go after Gremlin, or would Gremlin come to Academy City for him? Whatever happened, the feeling in the air wouldn’t keep going forever. And that made the thoughts rush back. The chaos in Hawaii. The hell in Baggage City. They weren’t just random incidents happening throughout the world. Academy City had directly caused them. Plus, if Gremlin’s goal was to object to Academy City having achieved victory in the era in which they lived, then he couldn’t even deny the possibility this city was the focal point for the global disturbances. The snowball of violence hurtled toward him. What would he be able to protect? And for how long? Kamijou couldn’t find a clear answer to those questions. Still, even though his lack of ability to answer was to be expected of a Japanese high schooler with average fighting ability, it was clear he was not currently in a position to give up on the answers altogether—because Gremlin and the magic god Othinus viewed Imagine Breaker as a threat. Combat—deadly combat—was inevitable at this point. Now it came down to when, where, and how it would begin. “……” Kamijou shivered candidly as he imagined this place, these streets ripe with a festival-prep mood, morphing into what Baggage City had been. Defeat was self-evident. There would be situations where he wouldn’t make it in time. And even if he did, even if he arrived before it was all over, he could barely even think of what he’d be able to do about it. This was the worst kind of chaos. He couldn’t let anything connect this city to such a horrible outcome. That was Kamijou’s deep, unshaking viewpoint. Just then… “Misaka…?” he muttered, suddenly spotting among the crowds someone he knew: a girl with short brown hair, wearing the uniform of the renowned Tokiwadai Middle School. An expensive-looking coat was draped over her shoulders. Was she out buying things to prep for the Ichihanaran Festival, too? She was number three in Academy City. A girl nicknamed Railgun, who possessed the most powerful of all electric-producing abilities. Their eyes suddenly met. When Mikoto recognized him, she walked over. Kamijou raised a hand. “Hey, Misaka. Are you out on prep wor—?” He didn’t have time to finish. Whump!!!!!! Without mercy, without restraint, Mikoto Misaka abruptly slammed down her fist on the top of his head. She’d put everything she had into that blow. Kamijou’s vision blinked on and off for a moment. Tears came to his eyes as he fell into an anguished crouch. Meanwhile, Mikoto snorted at him. “…For someone who left me out to dry back in Hawaii, you’re sure being friendly, aren’t you?” “Ah, agh…” “I don’t have any idea how the heck you convinced yourself that your debt was repaid, but I’m ready to blow my freaking top. I should beat you to a pulp and stuff you in the dumpsters over there. In fact, I might be furious enough to.” “…I’m, uh, I’m really sorry.” “Not good enough!!! Nowhere near good enough, pal!!!” “Look, even Mr. Kamijou accepts responsibility on every front this time, okay?” “Sure, sure. But I bet you’re secretly happy I didn’t have to see all the stuff that happened after that, aren’t you? I bet you’re feeling heroic now, you selfish prick.” “……” “God, at least deny it!!! Learn your freaking lesson already! When it comes to pure fighting power, I’m definitely stronger than you, remember?! Ask me for help!!! I’m telling you, I’m here to help, so let me!!!” As Mikoto yelled and shrieked at him, Kamijou had a thought. If Gremlin were to invade Academy City, would he ask for her help then? He’d managed by himself in Hawaii. But he’d taken a grievous blow in Baggage City, one he’d been powerless to stop. Was that a good enough reason to ask for her help? Was it a good enough reason to prevent her from getting involved? Maybe this was the opportunity to decide, once and for all, his stance on the matter. “Hey, Misaka?” “What now?” “You remember what happened in Hawaii, right?” “…Yeah, when you tossed me out like yesterday’s trash? In another country, no less?” “I’m being serious. Think of all the havoc Gremlin caused back there. Then consider a group that would make them look like just the start of it all. If that group showed up in Academy City, do you really think it would be right to put your friends on the front lines?” “…Hmm.” “I’ll be honest. I know I’m being contradictory. Like yeah, I want as much help as I can get, but if I let someone I know get wrapped up with monsters like them, I feel like it would be easier to just handle it all myself.” “That’s not a very fair question,” decided Mikoto. A moment later, something else happened. “But you’re too late to be worrying about that now. And it’ll cost you your life.” Suddenly, the girl’s tone shifted. A brilliant light exploded from the tip of her right hand. This made Kamijou realize something was odd about everything that had just transpired. That first punch she’d dealt him. Why would Mikoto Misaka, the girl who reflexively shot high-voltage electrical currents from her bangs at him, use brute strength instead of her ability? “You… What…?!” “Still don’t get it, do you? I’m about to lap you.” Whhrrrshhhh!!!!!! The noise thundered like a baseball bat swinging at full speed, pushing the air away from it. But that wasn’t the essential threat—it was the light shining from the right hand of Mikoto, or whoever it was. …An arc discharge? Like a burner used for welding or fusing?! Kamijou’s vision blurred terribly. He dropped his hips as the fusing blade passed straight overhead in a sideways swipe. With a burst of light like a camera flash, it brutally sliced through the propeller of the wind turbine behind him. “Wow, that’s pretty cool. Didn’t realize you’d figured out how to do more than just block stuff. If you’d tried it with my attack just now, you’d have been done for as soon as you stopped.” There was more than just one slice. The tall pole toppled into several chunks like a daikon radish chopped up for dinner. The reason was simple: Each of the five fingers on Mikoto’s right hand was producing an arc fusion blade. She could probably do that with her ability. If he recalled correctly, though, she usually relied on a sword made of iron sand in close combat. This wasn’t about what she was or wasn’t capable of, however; an arc fusion blade didn’t seem to fit her principles or interests. “Why…you…!!!” As Kamijou’s face erupted in fury, the person wearing Mikoto’s skin tried to thrust their left hand at his head. Five more arc fusion blades were sprouting from those fingers, too. The attacker used their arm like a pile bunker, thrusting and firing in a single action. Swinging his head away from the blades, Kamijou let loose a right uppercut at his opponent’s left wrist. It connected. Imposter-Mikoto’s left arm bounced upward. Kamijou took a step in, twisting himself into the open space, and grabbed Imposter-Mikoto’s neck with his right hand to shove her into a nearby bench back first. As he held her there, he cried, “You’re not Mikoto! Who are you?!” He heard a crackle. The skin of whoever was pretending to be Mikoto Misaka began to split around the wrist he had his hand around. As Kamijou stared in blank amazement, the tears in the imposter’s skin widened. Not across her whole body, exactly. Everything that gave Mikoto her form, including the coat and hair clip she wore, began to show cracks. “I think you know what I am.” As the fissures widened and ran through her body, someone spoke from her partially missing lips. A moment later, the collapse of the imposter’s false body went past the point of no return. The image of Mikoto shattered into a million pieces, exposing an effeminate young man with pale skin and blond hair. He smiled thinly, his throat still pinned to the bench. “I guess I’ll introduce myself. Thor, god of thunder, at your service. I’m on direct combat duty for Gremlin… And as you’ve gathered, we are already inside the city.”