Shuumatsu Nani Shitemasuka? Mou Ichido Dake, Aemasuka? Volume 1 Chapter 4 Part3

As Feodor ran through the base, he heard a bell ringing loudly.

The message communicated by the Winged Guard's bell changed depending on how it was rung. Two beats followed by three beats repeated was an emergency response drill. One beat and then two beats told everyone to return to their rooms and remain on standby. Two repeated beats - the Fifth Division's own original invention - warned everybody to arrive early because the mess hall was low on food; first come, first served.

And if the bell was rung by random beats without rhythm - as it now was - the message it sent went as such: "Emergency situation. All troops prepare for combat with unidentified third party."

"Fourth Officer Feodor Jessman, now entering."

"You're d.a.m.n late!"

As a panting Feodor burst into the Division Chief's office, he was intercepted by the Chief's loud rebuke. "Weren't you recuperating in your room, Fourth Officer? What took you so long?!"

"I… missed my chance to eat tasty donuts…" Feodor tried to catch his breath. "You can scold me later. What's going on? What sort of situation are we in?"

The Chief stared at him. He shook his head disbelievingly. "Explosions have been reported in three locations throughout the city. At present, we've dispatched most of the officers available to those areas to begin extrication of any nearby civilians, on top of confirming the damage done. I've had my hands full - there's not enough manpower anywhere."

"Three locations?"

He nodded. "The outskirts of the memorial district, the half-renovated slums in the seventh northeast district, and the private residence of former Baron McGuinness. Anything about that stand out?"

"…Maybe not." Though he said that, something still bothered him. "Can I see the map?" Spread out on top of the room's operations table was a large map of the city. Lead pieces had been placed on the three identified explosion sites as both indicators and paperweights. "Do you know who set it off?"

"No, we haven't found anything that seems like a clue right now-" The First Officer paused. "You don't think this was an accident either?"

Imps were said to be experts of strategy and good at seeing through lies. It wasn't due to some mysterious or special ability they had at their disposal, but rather the sort of slur that implied the entire race was warped or twisted in that manner. The stereotype was hard for Feodor to object to, as it was mostly true. Another difficulty was how surprisingly useful it was in situations like this.

"Obviously. When I was over here-" Feodor pointed near the old mine on the map, "I heard four explosions."

"…And why were you in such a place, exactly?"

"I missed my chance to eat tasty fried chicken." Feodor coughed. "Anyway, my point is, there weren't three blasts. Three of what I heard ought to match the places we know of, but as for the remaining one…"

He stretched out a red string across the map in a straight line. "Somewhere in this direction… it reverberated across a large area, so it's hard to pin down, but…"

"n.o.body heard anything like that."

"Another explosion probably disguised it. It was relatively small and a distance from this base. If you figure in the delay of the sound, it would hardly be difficult for them to overlap." Feodor put his finger on the base's location, searching for an intersection with the string he pulled to the other explosion locations. "Of course, it immediately fails as camouflage if we have even a single eyewitness testimony. At the very least, they could avoid getting caught by the military's response."

"…All that effort for what purpose?" the Division Chief asked.

"They must have intended to do something in the amount of time they had before the military intervened. If we had even one hint about who was involved, we might be able to divine their aims better, but… say, where is Private Selzel?"

"As he's our emergency liaison, we have him on standby in the neighboring room. He's with those four first-cla.s.s equivalent soldiers."

Feodor allowed himself a bit of time to think. The map showed three prospective locations for the fourth bombing to have occurred at, one of which was so probable he was nearly convinced he had the right place.

Still, he couldn't understand the intent. If the attacker had merely wanted to blow something up, there'd be no need for a large-scale diversion like this. After the explosion, while the military was distracted, what in the world did they want to do? What could they have done?

In the first place, the 38th Floating Island was about to be destroyed soon anyway, left to its own devices, so what was the need for these subversive activities-

"…It can't be…."

Floating Island 38. The airs.h.i.+p Utica. The eventual collison with Island 39.

The Croyance.

Could it be…? There's no way, no way at all, but…

It's impossible. I want to believe that. But the idea had already formed in his mind, and any other possibilities were becoming less and less plausible the longer he thought about it.

There's no doubt about it.

He didn't know who - he'd like to continue believing he didn't know who was responsible - but the person who'd decided on such a plan owned a supremely twisted heart, enough to make even an Imp like himself s.h.i.+ver.

"First Officer. I need your decision."

The Division Chief blinked, taken aback by Feodor's abrupt s.h.i.+ft in tone. "What now?"

"I'm taking Private First Cla.s.s Nax Selzel and heading to the Port District. Depending on the situation, we may need to detach blocks five, nine, and fourteen."

"…Huh?" His eyes dropped down to the map. The Port District was right underneath the red strings Feodor had laid out, also overlapping with the first explosion heard from the base. Much like the city itself, Lyell's Port District was one gigantic industrial project. To make expansion easier, it had been built by combining many huge blocks of material together. If they were to cut the chains and land anchors connecting these blocks together, then they could drop entire sections of the District down to the surface in one shot.

"What are you saying, Fourth Officer? We do this so soon after the bombings, and this whole mess will turn into a question of why we're supposedly demolis.h.i.+ng the Port District! Do you really believe we can do that without getting permission from the city-" the Division Chief stopped, blanching.

"If I'm mistaken," Feodor picked up for him, "it'll be a happy ending without anything bad occurring. But if you think there's even a slight chance I might be right, then we need to head there right now."

"…So that's what's going on." the Division Chief muttered bitterly. "Someone might be using the Croyance to pick a fight… That's what you think, isn't it?"

Feodor nodded. "Yes."

The word had barely left his throat when he heard footsteps running through the hallway. After some time, the door to the Division Chief's room was kicked open with a tremendous bang.

"Sorry for the interruption!"

Feodor stood and spun just time to see Collon and Lakish dash in, the former looking bemused, the latter ashen. Following behind them was Nax, grinning awkwardly and scratching his head. Two short of their usual lineup? No, first-

"You?! Why?!" Feodor spluttered. "Now isn't the time to go and burst into the Division Chief's office like this-"

"T-Tiat flew off just now!" Lakish pointed a shaking finger into the hallway, where Feodor saw Panival rus.h.i.+ng after the fading footsteps he had heard earlier. Her back shrunk into the distance until she turned a corner and disappeared from view.

"But why?!"

"T-that girl… she was eavesdropping on y-your conversation! I-I tried to stop her, but she didn't listen! And then, and then she suddenly ran off just now!"

Ah… so that's it. Listening to Lakish's panicky explanation, Feodor immediately understood. The day of reckoning has arrived earlier than expected.

The fairy soldiers were entrusted to them by the Second Division. Feodor was their superior and guardian in name only; he was a.s.signed to them because someone needed to be. In an emergency like now, they were probably capable of removing themselves from his command and moving freely in accordance with some other kind of orders besides the ones given by the Fifth Division. He could have made that prediction. Should have made it.

"…If a first-cla.s.s equivalent soldier abandons their station without following proper procedures… it will be treated as an act akin to desertion under fire." He had to squeeze out the words from his throat.

"P-please wait! Tiat, um, she's…!" Lakish spread her arms out, trying to form some sort of protest.

Feodor paid her little attention. "First Officer. Does Tiat know where the dug weapons are stored?"

"Come again?"

It was natural for the Division Chief to be surprised. Fourth Officers like Feodor were in no position to be aware of the existence of dug weapons. But there wasn't any time to ask questions. "…Let's see. First-cla.s.s equivalent soldier Tiat… she was the representative for the four of them. So I gave her, and only her, the number of the secret warehouse for those weapons."

"Understood." That settled it. "Excuse me. I've just recalled some minor business I must attend to. As before, I endorse Private First Cla.s.s Nax as the choice for the Port District's disa.s.sembly."

"Huh, me?" Nax pointed to himself, visibly confused. "Hey, whatcha going on about-"

Feodor broke into a run, ignoring him. "H-hey! Where're ya going?!"

He couldn't afford even the time needed to answer that question. He just ran faster towards his destination.

"…Annnnd he's gone," Collon muttered as Feodor's back disappeared into the hallway.

"F-F-F-First Officer! There's… there's probably… an important reason for this…" Lakish waved her arms, fl.u.s.tered. Feodor had just left his own station to follow after Tiat. Naturally, in an army currently involved in an emergency, his action was an unignorable sin.

The dumbfounded Division Chief only spared Lakish a single glance. "Good grief, those brats," he murmured. "Well, it can't be helped now. I don't have the time nor men to call them back here. When they return, I'll make sure to take my time reprimanding them…"

His eyes fell on an uncomfortable-looking Falcon. "Oh, Private First Cla.s.s Nax."

"Uh, hey, sir. Commander! How do I put this… can I go do my job…?"

"Sure." He waved a tired hand. "Go into the city and find people who know the Port District's framework. If they get difficult it's fine to threaten them. Drop the Port District afterwards."

"Uh huh, I see, 'right. Drop the Port District, huh? Makes sense." Nax nodded slightly. "…Wait, sorry?"

"The current targets to be dropped are five, nine, and fourteen. It might increase depending on how this situation progresses. Head to the site and drop all the blocks you deem necessary." The Division Chief fixed the soldier with a glare. "Well? There's no time! I won't repeat myself, so get your a.s.s in gear!"

"W-what?! Okay!" Perhaps because he decided it'd be faster than running down the corridor, the Falcon sprang to the office's huge window, opened it, and then took off. The First Officer silently saw him off.

"Uh, um… what about us?" Lakish nervously asked.

"Good grief…" The Division Chief sank deeply into his leather-bound chair, shaking his head. "Just stay here on standby. We have to be prepared for the worst-case scenario."

The Croyance, Restraining and Imprisoning Eleventh Beast, grows by a.s.similating the things it touches. The growth progresses at an extremely slow rate, and so the Croyance can be considered completely harmless to whatever it has yet to touch.

However, if it were to be impacted, the a.s.similation would explosively speed up. Even just stepping on it with your feet, for example, would enable it to instantaneously grab onto the soles of your shoes. If you sliced it with a sword, both the sword and the person holding it would probably transform into a ma.s.s of black crystal in one second. After a while, the accelerated growth would slow down and return to its original speed.

Now, what do you suppose would happen if the Croyance was. .h.i.t by an enormous blast wave?

Twenty minutes after he had excused himself, Feodor was in Lyell City's Port District. As he reached a position from which he could see his goal, he finally came to a stop. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he spun in a circle, taking in the damage caused by the explosion. Just as he'd predicted, it was impossible to miss. Especially when it concerned the most state-of-the-art profile of the most state-of-the-art airs.h.i.+p, the Utica.

Starting with the center of its body, more than half of the s.h.i.+p had already transformed into black crystal. Even now, he could hear something like the endless march of countless bugs emanating from deep within the airs.h.i.+p as the Beast continued to consume the steel and scarlet heavy metals comprising the hull.

At some point in time, someone had most likely planted a shard of the Croyance into the Utica. Considering its well-known growth speed, it was impossible for it to have secretly grown to this size without being noticed by someone. Now Feodor had no doubt in the matter: the earlier explosions must have been in order to accelerate this corrosion.

Now it was growing quickly enough that he could see it happen, even from this distance. If they left it alone, it'd start a.s.similating the other blocks in the Port District.

It was fortunate that there weren't any signs of people around. Even within the Port District, this block wasn't visited frequently by many s.h.i.+ps. On the other hand, it was somewhat disconcerting that n.o.body was around, not even working on or near the Utica, when the sun hadn't even set.

…I smell blood.

That made sense. Anybody who would call for help had probably been killed beforehand. Communications must have been further delayed when the explosions occurred and the unleashed Beast reached a size large enough to start a.s.similating the surroundings.

That's… the Croyance…

Although they'd always been able to see it along with the faraway 39th Island on days with good weather, witnessing one from this close up was a first for him. Its growth sped up when impacted. If someone slashed it with a sword or bombarded it, that would likely expedite its expansion to the degree he observed now. If that was the case, it'd explain how the situation had gotten this bad when not even a few hours had pa.s.sed since its discovery.

A sword. Now that he thought about it, Tiat had said it, hadn't she? Dug weapons like the Seniolis used by Lakish were swords. So did that mean her own weapon was the same way? Though he didn't know what sort of power it might have, wasn't a Leprechaun's fighting style to cut down opponents with a sword at melee range? If that's the case, then maybe…

A wild idea began to snake through his mind. He, who'd ran all the way here, hadn't actually made it in time. Tiat had pulled out her sword from some warehouse long ago and been here before him. Elevating her physical abilities, igniting her Venom, she'd slashed at the Beast with its roots spread in the engine room. But that attack didn't work, and the Beast only grew its strength like it naturally would.

The power of the strike became the Beast's speed of growth. That which was once a sword instantly transformed into crystal, and the corrosion reached up to Tiat's arms. Ever courageous, she tried to cope without releasing even one scream. But with her edged tool and both of her arms stolen from her, she didn't have anything left to break free. Her violent struggles only made her situation worse, and soon she lost her lungs and screaming became impossible. She lost her still-unseen strength, and at last transformed into a black crystal statue inside the empty engine room. Surely, the statue wore a seemingly satisfied smile.

"You're early, Feodor."

He killed the wild theory raging within him. His palms were soaked with detestable sweat. Secretly wiping them on the pants of his uniform, Feodor raised his face.

Tiat was approaching him, coming from the direction of the base. In her hands was a large sword, almost as long as the girl was tall. Judging by its l.u.s.ter, it was more or less metallic, but he felt concerned about the strange numerous cracks running through its blade.

Her expression was taciturn, showing no eagerness, no impatience, no fear - nothing. If he was forced to give it an emotion, then there might have been something like tranquility, faintly quivering behind her dull eyes.

"You're late, Tiat."

Somehow, he'd managed to arrive ahead of her. He felt relieved, deep in his heart.

"Don't say that." Tiat replied, sounding unnaturally cheerful. He couldn't tell what might be going or not going through her mind. "I ran into all kinds of trouble. Obviously I could've gotten here earlier if I flew with my Venom at full power, but I don't have much confidence in my stamina, and then everything would be ruined if I ended up exhausted at an important moment and couldn't open the Fairy Gate."

"Panival should've been chasing you. Where did she go?"

"Oh, I gave her the slip. She must've not known my goal was even here. She'll find us soon, but there's still just a bit of time left."

"Incidentally, I think you probably know this, but a standby for combat with a third party has been announced." Feodor maintained his calm posture. "So I order you as your superior officer, Tiat Siba Ignareo. Withdraw immediately and await further orders."

"No."

As they talked, Tiat hadn't stopped advancing. She walked straight towards the Utica.

Feodor stepped into her way, standing up straight with his chest thrust out. She finally stopped. "Move it."

"I refuse. This place is a warzone now, and we don't let people who get in the way of our fight through."

Tiat's expression tightened. She raised her sword, pointing the tip at Feodor. "If you're going to say it's impossible for you to stand aside, then I'll have to hurt you a little. Just to warn you, if you're hit by this thing, it'll actually hurt a lot."

"That's unpleasant."

"Then shut up and watch me. Confirm how much my attack using high-level Venom goes through him and take note of it for the future."

As a matter of fact, if he thought only in the perspective of the battle with the Croyance, it didn't seem like a bad proposal. No weapon could surpa.s.s information. For future Winged Guard battles, and for the goals held by those alongside the Winged Guard, learning even a little more about the enemy would be valuable. If it was for that purpose, some casualties were acceptable.

He could do that.

"I think… it probably won't work," Tiat said. "But that's fine too. Even if you only learn our power won't work on it, then the military will treat Collon and Panival more carefully in the real battle with the Croyance of the 39th Island. That's a better ending than having all three of us die in vain at once."

Feodor dropped his gaze down to the ground. This area had been completely mechanized, so there wasn't any soil or rock left, but rather a number of copper plates spread out evenly with a hammer and fastened with cluttered rivets. "You, Panival, Collon, and Lakish too, why can't you all run away without fighting? n.o.body wants you to die, so why do you want to die?"

"Don't you dare go there. If we don't die, then we won't be able to save everybody."

In that moment, Feodor's entire body seethed. His blood rose and boiled, hot enough for his vision to be dyed crimson. He remembered, in an angry rush, the people of Elpis. The people his big brother tried to protect by risking his life, and the people who had taken his life to try and get some relief.

"…If you think about the future of Regul Aire," Feodor forced out, "it's probably more efficient to do as you said, right?"

"So you do get it?"

"For the sake of our great cause, it's probably convenient to those people too."

"I think you're just repeating what you said before… but well, that's right, isn't it?" Her eyes were becoming watery.

You speak of hope while crying? You muster up your bravery while frightened?

Don't think you can beat an Imp at lying.

"So please, move." Impatience and irritation leaked into her voice. "Call it a dramatic suicide or whatever you please, but let me go."

"Rejected."

"What-"

"You know, I detest characters in inspiring stories." Feodor shrugged his shoulders in his most insulting manner. "They do whatever it takes for others, even the world. They'll protect those sorts of people who - well, anyway, ever since a long time ago, I've always hated anyone who says they'll just go die to make other people happy."

"I…" Tiat raised her voice. "I don't understand! Hurry up and get out of the way! There's not much time left!"

"You know, my big brother said something to me once," Feodor remarked casually. "You shouldn't give up on this world yet. When the world murdered my brother, I decided to abandon it anyway."

He grinned. "But now I can do something much more important than that. It's not me insulting my dead big brother's ideals; it's just better for me to always take priority over other people."

Feodor gently spread out both hands, his posture the same as ever. He removed his gla.s.ses and threw them away. "I've decided, fairy soldier. The great cause? The future of Regul Aire? I won't give a d.a.m.n about that nonsense! If you say you want to stage your inspiring tale with all the races making appearances and holding hands, if you say you'll protect the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who shouldn't be protected, then all of you are my enemy!"

He slowly breathed in, then exhaled. His smile was savage, full of all the bursting emotions surging out of his heart. And then he hissed his declaration:

"I'll make myself a problem for all of you!"

An animalistic snarl emerged from Tiat and, as Feodor kicked at the ground, he saw her crouch. It was fortunate he'd already bent backwards in that instant. There was a whoosh like wildfire roaring through bush, followed by an unbelievable wind blast that tore at his body.

Hey, w-whoooa?!

He'd planned on dodging it with the subtlest of movements, and actually pulled it off, but it was far closer than he'd antic.i.p.ated. The great ma.s.s in front of him had rushed to point-blank range, Tiat's body swimming through the air almost like she was part of it. W-what the h.e.l.l's that?!

His mouth stiffened, or maybe it was that he smiled for some reason. He couldn't put together what was happening. Some of his hair had been ripped off by the wind - no, a fair few strands were now dispersing, dancing through the suddenly displaced current.

Tiat had closed the distance between them and swung her sword at him. The flat of the blade had been used, so she'd had no intention of killing him for the time being. He'd need to put aside whether or not the extent of that gesture was particularly meaningful.

Did she strengthen her body with Venom?! N-no way! Th-this has got to be a lie, right?!

Venom was commonly understood to be something akin to poison. Although in truth they were completely different, from a general perspective one could recognize that the two substances resembled one another functionally.

Loosely speaking, Venom was an energy that drew one closer to death. It couldn't be handled by those blessed with overwhelming strength or desire to live. Conversely, the weaker a person was, be it physically, mentally, or spiritually, the stronger their Venom burned. However, it only took a single misstep for one to be swallowed up by their own power and die where they stood.

For that reason, the military generally recognized Venom as something to be utilized by the weaker races as a way of making up for their inherent physical inferiority compared to other races. Although it was an unfavorable way to put it, the basis of their treatment boiled down to the idea that "it's admirable for the weak to fight the strong." While Feodor, for his part, acknowledged the fairies' strength, he too held the same mistaken impression somewhere in a corner of his mind.

Now he was swiftly realizing the extent of his terrible misunderstanding. If this is Venom in a controlled state, just what kind of amazing power could a berserk state create?!

"Aiiiieeeee!" A shameful, unmanly shriek spilled from Feodor's throat as his body somehow moved how he needed it to. It took him everything he had to just barely survive each brutal swing of Tiat's blade. Even while tears leaked from her eyes, she lunged at him over and over again. Every time she attacked, the wind pressure and her intimidating aura combined was almost enough to blow him over.

His face was frozen in a stiff grimace, and irritatingly damp sweat ran down his forehead without pause. Unlike the hand-to-hand training he was used to, he had absolutely no leeway to hide his real capabilities; his hands were out in the stance he knew best.

I'll get hit if I lose even a tiny bit of focus. If that happens, it just might be the end for me too.

I'm scared.

Oddly, the thought of running away never occurred to him.

"Finally I understand my feelings!" Feodor yelled out wildly, trying to provoke her. "That wonderful fairy soldier, Kutori Nota Seniolis, makes me sick to my stomach! She died stupidly, doing stupid things, and her juniors all start acting like idiots thanks to a big misunderstanding? She should take responsibility for it, shouldn't she?!"

Tiat didn't say anything, but her expression changed. Her face was still sloppy and tearstained, but a slight coolness mixed into her glare. Feodor couldn't help but back up a few steps, unnerved. I don't have any useful powers like spell vision or anything, so I can't tell, but I might've ignited her Venom even higher and more violently.

"And who else? Oh, that Willem jerk, too!" Feodor hastily babbled. "What the h.e.l.l's with the lovey-dovey c.r.a.p?! Weren't you just talking about some technical officer who screwed around with his ignorant kid subordinates? I respect him a lot as a man, in one sense, but as a person? I only have one vile word to describe him with!"

"Rrrrrrgghh!"

That'd done it. He could almost hear the snap as Tiat's thick blood vessels pulsed. Probably judging that she wouldn't be able to catch up to him at half-speed, she broke into a run with such force as to leave an extrlarge dent in the copper-covered ground.

Like I thought, it's come to this. Feodor held his breath, barely able to follow her movements. She really is amazingly quick.

Tiat hurled her greatsword into the sky. She was in front of Feodor's face long before it began plunging back down, her fists raised.

Why not use her sword? Maybe she figured out the threat alone wouldn't work? Regardless, she'd clearly adjusted to the situation, decided it was necessary to deal some damage, and made to drive her fists into his face.

That was the best possible scenario Feodor could have hoped for. He'd evaded her lethal-until-now sword for so long that he'd become accustomed to its general trajectory; if Tiat had unexpectedly changed her pattern of attacks to something completely different, Feodor wouldn't have had the slightest chance of avoiding it. But the choices of someone who chose to discard their weapon were much more limited. It wasn't as if he could see her movements, but rather that he'd predicted she would probably try to punch him.

Judging by how she moves in our daily training, her first step will be with her right foot. Keeping her distance like she's about to pounce from where she is, she strikes the nape of her opponent's neck from an angle slightly diagonally above them, with a blow ama.s.sing power from the twist of her left hip into right shoulder.

Antic.i.p.ating her instinctive movements, Feodor countered her. He ducked into a dodge to bait her fists into an useless downward curve and then threw himself forwards, swinging out his left hand in an arc as he did.

One blink's worth of time pa.s.sed.

And then Tiat collapsed facedown onto the ground as Feodor spun and grabbed her arms, twisting them into her back and forcing her into a pin.

Her sword made a grating, clattering noise as it hit the ground a second later.

"Ah…?" It took a moment for Tiat to figure out what had happened. She blinked a few times, her face blank. Feodor sucked in several huge, painful breaths, his heart hammering away in his chest. It felt as if he'd stopped breathing for a few hours.

"It's my… win."

Still pinned down, Tiat strained to twist her neck to the side and glare at him with one eye. "Y-you-!"

"I won't take back what I said," Feodor panted harshly, still recovering his breath. "But they must really have been wonderful for you to praise them so much. Their service must have been distinguished and worth praising, they probably saved Regul Aire more than a few times, and just in general, they lived their lives to the best of their ability. Even someone like me would have my conscience p.r.i.c.ked to insult people like that, if that's true."

"Then why're you-"

Finally regaining his breath, he yelled, "But! Right now, those two are responsible for putting your life in danger!"

A short silence pa.s.sed.

"…Huh?" Tiat looked up at him with a gormless, boneheaded expression, almost a full half of her malice fading. It seemed that she couldn't comprehend one iota of his words.

"It's true!" Feodor snapped. "I don't know if you bunch are either too naive or just simple in the head, but for those two to prance off the stage after displaying their great beautiful love story - isn't that the worst?! I mean, if you girls were raised to love self-sacrifice so much it somehow magnified the splendor of your romance-addled brains, that's so dumb it makes me laugh, even though it's not funny at all!"

At this point Feodor was just shouting whatever nonsense flooded through his brain, too caught up in the momentum to understand what he himself was saying. Tiat furrowed her eyebrows, trying to work through his words as her face slowly stained red with fury.

"Who the heck loves self-sacrifice so much it magnifies the splendor of their romance-addled brain?!"

"You, moron! You have absolutely zero self-awareness, no awareness whatsoever!"

"And, and, what's with the "simple in the head" and "naive" stuff?! Aren't you treating me and Lakish way too differently?!"

"If you get that much, maybe you do have some self-awareness after all!"

"That's the part you take away?! You're unbelievable!"

"Are you trying to make me mad?! Nasty tricks like that won't-"

Feodor would have continued, but just then, too many things all happened at the same time.

First of all, he found that his vision had suddenly blurred and s.h.i.+fted. It took him a moment to figure out that Tiat had thrown him off with a sudden burst of outrageous power. His pinning technique and supposedly advantageous position was all rendered null, blown away by sheer brute strength.

He slid backwards, scrabbling for purchase until finally his right hand closed onto some rope attached to a nearby weight. He grabbed onto it, swinging around in a giant arc with the momentum of his body. Just for a second he glimpsed Tiat's green eyes, seeming almost to say I'm sorry.

S-

She kicked off the ground, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the sword she'd thrown earlier, then reversed direction hard enough to make the copper ground ripple. She sprinted with all the speed of the wind, charging towards the Utica and the Croyance dwelling within it.

Even his controlling voice couldn't possibly reach her in time now. The cracks running through her sword blade expanded into visible gaps, overflowing with brilliant light.

She's trying to do something. Something that can't be undone. Although Feodor knew it, he was helpless to do anything. Frustration choked him, like a swimmer trying desperately to tread water instead of drowning.

Sto-

Light entered his eyes. There was a brief delay, then a tremendous, ear-piercing, explosion.

Feodor, his mental faculties long ago pushed to their utmost limits, immediately realized what had happened. Even after being pushed away by Tiat and sent rolling onto the ground, even unable to recover his stance, he instantly understood the despair approaching completion before him.

The gunpowder hidden within this place had been prepared in two stages.

He didn't know the finer details of the a.s.sailant's plan, but without a doubt, he knew who had done it. Her intent must have been to wait for the military to gather around the Croyance, rendered visible by the first explosion, and then dispose of them all in a single blow - or else to signal time's up to officers arguing about whether to drop the Port District or not. Either way, it formed an insidiously twisted trap.

The fortunate thing was that a mere two people had been caught up between the jaws of the trap. Unfortunately, those two people were Tiat as well as Feodor himself, and the trap was about to close.

Stop-

In a flash, the black crystal corrosion swallowed the Utica up entirely. Of course, it didn't end there. Before his eyes, the engorging crystal raced down the anchors mooring the once-airs.h.i.+p and at last began spreading into the Port District.

The speed of Tiat's charge wavered, as the explosion shockwave hit and buffered her. The black crystallization continued racing forward, hungrily reaching for her feet.

Dammit, I won't make it in time.

Just as Feodor accepted it, a magnificent gthunk echoed through the District. The world tilted. His whole body s.h.i.+vered, overtaken by a peculiar floating sensation; an illusion of the ground suddenly disappearing beneath him.

Then he realized it was no illusion.

The dropping of blocks five, nine, and fourteen. It seemed that the things he'd ordered had somehow been executed just in time. A foolish Fourth Officer and first-cla.s.s equivalent soldier might get swallowed up in the collapse, but if it led to the salvation of the Floating Islands, there was no need to hesitate.

Grunting with effort, Feodor reached to Tiat with his right arm. Time seemed to slow to an almost frustrating degree as the anch.o.r.ed rope, which he'd just managed to free, snaked out and coiled around her ankle. Tiat fell, her balance broken by the rope. Unfortunately, he lacked the strength to reel her back.

Unchecked, Tiat would likely have crashed into the Croyance head-on and been killed. Feodor had delayed her death by just a few more seconds. But just a few, and then it would be unavoidable.

And then, I suppose, my turn will come a little later afterwards.

Feodor didn't want to die. At the same time, he had accepted in his heart that his fate was now inescapable; he would fall to his death. Resignation left his body drained of energy.

For now, inertia continued to move him. Somehow he managed to order himself to smack the ground beneath him, even roll onto it, until finally the blocks underneath him crumbled and gave way to thin air. There was a frightened yelp from Tiat, and then Feodor began falling.

The Croyance cannot a.s.similate what it cannot touch. If I'm completely thrown into the sky, then I can avoid that threat.

Naturally, it didn't change a single thing about the irrevocable fact that he would eventually reach his death, merely altered his course somewhat.

…Well, I guess that's fine, Feodor thought to himself. Dying in vain is still a better means of throwing away your life than self-sacrifice.

Feodor's shoes flailed uselessly at the copper-sheeted earth that fell away beneath him, slipping farther and farther away until at last his entire body was falling through a world without gravity.

Dear my beloved, terrible, but splendid older brother. Entrusting himself to the s.h.i.+very floating feeling flooding his senses, Feodor whispered words into his heart. From here on, your younger brother-in-law will go to where you've gone. The world you tried to protect, the world that killed you - I tried my best to be the villain who would destroy it somehow, but it turns out I wasn't up to the task. Thinking about what I've done these past five years, I'm really very ashamed with my results.

But there's just one thing that even I can be proud of. Since that day five years ago when I lost everything, I've survived by keeping in mind that I can't get too close to anybody. I did it so that whenever I died, in whatever manner it might be, n.o.body would want to mourn me. I can disappear with my head held high, without having some fool turn this death of mine into a moving ballad. My wish has been granted. Now, I will try and vanish into the void by myself. Holding this in mind, I'm sure that I've surpa.s.sed you, who continued to be stupidly strong and n.o.ble wherever you went-

Something's weird.

The floating sensation had vanished before he knew it. No matter how much time pa.s.sed, he wasn't cras.h.i.+ng into the surface. More than anything, he felt something strangely warm wrapped around himself.

He nervously opened his eyes. Tiat's face was there before his eyes.

"…Uh…"

Slowly, he started putting together the pieces. Somehow he had ended up clinging to Tiat's body. A large pair of phantasmal clear pale-green wings had appeared from her back. It was those same wings that held them suspended in the air.

"So you're… alive?" Feodor asked.

"Yeah." Not daring to move her neck, Tiat affirmed her existence with her voice alone.

"Are you… we… flying?"

"Yep. Thanks to you throwing this thing at me, I was able to make it just in time." With some effort, she shook the anch.o.r.ed rope wrapped around her right foot.

I used the few seconds you gave me to generate wings, grab you, and get away from the ground before the crystallization reached us. Feodor surmised she would have said something to that effect if not for the difficulty of flying while carrying him taking up her focus. I see… Venom can do this kind of thing as well? Feodor had thought he'd understood it to some degree, but this experience had thoroughly exposed his rank ignorance on the subject.

"I guess that means it's my loss." He drew in a breath, then sighed deeply. He might have exhaled onto a weird place, because Tiat suddenly emitted a small scream and dipped in the air briefly. "In the end, I couldn't stop your attack."

"Really? I feel like I'm the one who lost. I wasn't able to fight that after all, and I'm still alive." They were starting to reach what remained of the Port District. "What you said to me earlier… there's no way I could've replied to that."

"Earlier?"

Tiat didn't reply for a while. "…If you've already forgotten, that's fine too."

What's with that?

Both of them continued hugging each other, rising through the air little by little. Far in the distance, the sun was beginning to set.

"So we both lost, then?" Feodor asked. "What an unsatisfying conclusion."

"Was that Beast the only winner?"

"Who knows? I wonder about that too."

In the end, they'd only danced around the threat of the Beast without tackling it at all. Although they talked as if their fight was over, it felt like that wasn't true.

Ultimately, it seemed like a little more than half of the entire Port District had escaped destruction. Feodor saw Nax standing in a corner of the leftover skyport, looking annoyed and waving his hands at them. Lakish was next to him, fallen to her knees with her face twisted in sadness. When she saw them, she started incessantly screaming and waving her arms as well.

"…So that's that. I guess… I wasn't able to beat my big brother after all."

"What?"

"No, nothing." Feodor huddled against Tiat's body again. "You're warm…"

He slowly closed his eyes.

"Um…"

"What is it?" He cracked open one tired eye.

"If I can't be like Kutori… how do I live my life from now on? Do you know?"

"h.e.l.l if I'd know. But…" Trying to be delicate, he answered her to the best of his ability. "You should look for that as much as you want to. Maybe that's what living really means."

The next few days almost flew by. He got chewed out by the Division Chief a lot, then rewarded and praised for his accomplishment, making for a troublesome week overall.

Since he'd gotten time off for the first time in a long while, Feodor decided to go out into the city. Not bothering to ask the Division Chief for permission, he dove under the wire-mesh fence and went outside the base.

A vague thought crossed his mind to head to the old mine. He wanted to savor piles of the fried chicken he'd failed to buy back before the incident occurred. As before, it would take some walking to get to, but for someone like Feodor who wanted to eat something heavy, hunger was the best spice.

As Feodor walked down the road, he was reminded again of how unkind Lyell was even to people living there. The city roads got overly complicated: some places had hidden switches that had to be flipped to open otherwise inoperable doors, there were junctions with many or few possible routes, as well as places where the road sharply turned, always accompanied by the sudden hiss of steam blowing over you. It was natural for anybody unused to Lyell's structure, or even those long used to it, to find themselves walking down strange back alleys if they stopped paying attention to their path.

"…Here we are." Walking down a new road with a wrapped fried chicken in hand, Feodor noticed a park that seemed like a pleasant place to rest. He entered it and parked himself on a rusty bench, taking a bite of his chicken. Meat juice came flowing out of it. As he expected, it had cooled by now compared to when it was first given to him, but that also meant it was at a temperature where it was much easier to enjoy.

And, of course, it was spicy - deliciously spicy. While contently chewing on it, Feodor nonchalantly called out to the other person in the park. "Long time no see, sis."

"Yes, it's been some time," the silver-haired woman he knew so well answered in a familiar tone, walking over to sit on his bench. How long had she been standing there without his knowledge? "Around five years now, Feodor. Oh, but aren't you oddly lively?" She nodded. "Yes, yes, you certainly are."

"Don't say something like that. I actually almost died last week."

"So I heard," she replied coolly. "I certainly didn't expect to find you in a place like this. What's more, for you to have joined the Winged Guard, and then stick your neck into my plans. I most definitely never expected such things of you. Why, oh why did you ever go and become a soldier in an organization like the Winged Guard?"

"It's all in pursuit of my goal and my grand ambition, naturally. I'd prefer if you didn't get in my way."

"Oh, that was never my intention. But, I wonder… if you were to appear in my way, should I trample over you as usual, hmm?"

"I do wonder what you actually think of your blood relatives, sis."

"How rude. I'm not so cold, you know? If you'd died, I would have at least mourned you just a little. If I felt like it, I might even have had some flowers delivered to your grave."

"That'd be surprisingly kind for you." Feodor bit off another piece of chicken. The woman next to him quietly smiled. She was his actual older sister, and once the wife to the Corps Commander of the Elpis Defense Force.

"So?" Feodor kept his eyes focused on his chicken. "Were you the one who used that vial and unleashed the Croyance last week? To go and waste that kind of ultimate weapon… what did you want to do with this Island?"

"Well…" She giggled, placing a finger to her lips. "How about I keep that a secret for now? Don't you worry, I won't become a hindrance to your plans."

He sighed. "Whenever I talk with you, sis, I start understanding all over again just how much us Imps have become an ill-natured race."

"Oh my, such a cruel thing to say."

"Blame your own behavior." Feodor finished off the last of his chicken.

The woman rose from her bench. "Now then, though I'm glad I got to see my cute little brother, I unfortunately don't have much time, so I need to go," she said. "But we have so much to catch up on, so much I've been waiting to talk about. Shall we meet again? Sometime next week, perhaps?"

"…Sorry. That's not gonna happen."

"Oh?" She looked let down, very much like a young girl who had just opened an empty present.

"I won't ever promise to meet with someone again. That's something I decided on that day, five years ago."