[417] The Second Purgatory (4)
"Shirone?"
Kanya's voice trembled.
It was definitely Shirone. But how could he be here?
No — that didn't matter now.
If the figure on the screen was Shirone, he could once again give the despairing rebels a new hope.
-Unit 5 has fallen! Provide cover!
Hearing the radio, Kanya snapped back to reality and turned toward the multivision.
Most of the Guroi were immobilized, but some firing systems still worked.
And they were all aimed at Shirone.
"Wait, no!"
Kanya slammed the radio button in a panic.
"Don't shoot! He's not an enemy!"
When there was no response, she still couldn't relax and moved closer to confirm Shirone's identity.
He stood there brazenly, unafraid to show himself.
"This is bad…!"
She hit the emergency eject. The cockpit's reinforced glass popped forward with a bang.
Kanya had ripped the piper from the Guroi's synchro machine and crawled out through the brush, hands raised.
"Stop! Cease fire!"
The platoon leader's voice crackled from the speakers of the escaped Unit 5.
-Firing commenced.
Tick! Tick! Tick!
Kanya squeezed her eyes shut, but all she heard from the three remaining Guroi were the metallic clinks of failing mechanisms.
"W-what's going on?"
As she stared in a daze, she realized the landscape itself was warping.
At the center of the distortion, a pair of enormous gears meshed and spun.
Sein's Equilibrium had calmed the chemical reactions in the gas.
"Misfire! Dud rounds, platoon leader!"
"Same here. Check the ignition plugs."
"No defects! Damn it…! Ugh!"
Boom!
Kuan and Etella had taken down one Guroi.
It had taken longer than their skill suggested, but the point was that two specialists in anti-giant combat had smashed a machine with sheer physical force.
The reinforced glass of the Guroi flew outward.
The pilot hung unconscious from the synchro rig, and Armin stood beside him.
It was the chilling hallmark of a space–time mage who, given coordinates, could infiltrate even sealed compartments.
The other crew members tore through the remaining Guroi, and the only intact machine left was the one the platoon leader occupied.
Gaold approached the Guroi, rubbing his chin as if he'd stumbled on something curious.
Instead of offering a hand, he looked up at the machine's violet face and said, "Get down. If you value your life."
With a crack, the reinforced glass shot up and the platoon leader, still clutching his piper, lunged at Gaold.
"Die!"
"No, platoon leader!"
Kanya shouted, but the Signa the platoon leader held was already falling above Gaold's head.
"Kanya?"
Gaold glanced back at Shirone. As if unrelated, his fist flashed and struck the platoon leader's jaw.
"Ugh!"
The man crumpled pathetically and rolled on the ground with glazed eyes.
If Gaold hadn't relaxed his Press magic, that blow would have wiped the man's face from the world.
"Do you know him, Shirone?"
Shirone peered, disbelief in his eyes, and looked more closely.
"Kanya? You're Kanya, right?"
Only then did Kanya seem to let go of her tension. With her piper ripped off mid-action, she ran up empty-handed and threw herself at Shirone.
"Shirone, Shirone! Waaah!"
Everyone was bewildered by the sudden, saccharine scene between former enemies who had been fighting to kill each other minutes before.
"Really… Shirone?"
No one among the rebels didn't know Shirone.
The Nephilim who had stopped Ilhwa's wine.
The uprising that started in Shamain District 73 had birthed the rebels, and they revered Shirone as the "Light of District 73."
Kanya wiped her eyes belatedly and forced a shy smile.
"Sorry. You were wearing something weird so I didn't recognize you."
Shirone didn't mind — anyone who had met him while he was disguised as an enemy would have done the same.
"It's okay. How's Rena?"
"She's with the main force. She'll faint from joy when she sees you."
"Haha. And your parents?"
"My father's still hale."
"…I see."
Shirone didn't ask about her mother.
Kanya had been in poor health even then; the fact she didn't mention it was enough to let him guess what had happened.
There is no good death in this world.
But Shirone hoped she had left surrounded by her family, at peace.
"How long has it been since I left?"
"Exactly 432 days."
Kanya hadn't had to think. The day Shirone stopped Ilhwa's wine was a landmark for the rebels; the count was memorized.
'Four hundred thirty-two days.'
It wasn't far off from the time zone Shirone had been living in.
The Gaphin Gate distorts space, so distance shouldn't cause a time discrepancy.
If local time here ran a bit faster, it was likely due to the planet's surrounding gravitational field.
Shirone asked the question he most wanted answered.
"I heard you were fighting Heaven. I came all the way here and I haven't seen an angel—or even a Mara. Why is that?"
Kanya shook her head.
"We don't know either. We fought desperately—well, mostly we retreated—but from some day onward the angels just stopped appearing. Even on days when patrols were supposed to be out."
Sein, hooked into the psychic link and listening, brightened and cut in.
"When exactly did the change start?"
"Hmm, maybe about one hundred thirty days ago?"
One hundred thirty days.
Compared to the original world's timeline, that placed it at roughly three months ago.
The first thing that came to mind was that contact with Gaold's guard who infiltrated Heaven had been cut off around that time.
'Something definitely happened in Heaven. What the hell is going on? Is it related to Miro? Or—'
The platoon leader frowned and examined the damaged Guroi.
If he was Shirone, the Light of District 73, there should have been no need to fight him — and yet they'd paid a heavy price because of it.
"This is bad. The damage is severe."
Shirone approached with an apologetic expression. The machine was beyond repair except by depot maintenance.
"I'm sorry."
"You've nothing to apologize for. We were the ones who struck first."
A female squad leader with some responsibility spread her hands in protest, looking wronged.
"But that man put on a grotesque illusion first. If you'd been in our shoes, you'd have recognized him as an enemy."
Plu picked at the point.
"You aimed the arc first, though?"
"He started the quarrel first!"
"You guys misunderstood before he could start a quarrel."
The woman snapped.
"How could anyone not misunderstand? He looked like that and came at us like he was going to hit us!"
A brief silence followed.
When it was reduced to blaming Gaold's face, the platoon leader didn't want to argue further.
"Enough. Drop it and recover the machines fast so we can rejoin the main force. The main force isn't exactly relaxed either."
Sein asked, "Where's the main force?"
"The Plains of the Dead. They're conducting a giant-eradication operation."
The platoon leader walked to his Guroi.
"This is the only gear we can put into immediate use. I'll lead—follow me… huh?"
Gaold was standing behind him.
When the leader, foot in the stirrup, looked puzzled, Gaold nodded to the side.
"Move. I'll take it."
"What? You're going to ride that?"
Kangnan sighed and stepped forward.
"Why on earth do you want that? Even if you sync the piper, it won't move properly."
Gaold's solution was simple.
"Then give me the piper."
Kangnan looked to Sein.
It was an official question to the team leader: can we just let this man act?
Sein nodded.
Shirone would destroy Heaven; Gaold would handle the angels. He was the only person who could buy time against a swarm of angels, so it was best to leave combat matters to him.
"Let him do as he pleases for now."
Five minutes later.
Clank! Clank!
Gaold, piper attached, climbed into the Guroi.
The platoon leader, stripped of everything, could only stare into the distance.
Shirone watched worriedly and asked Plu, "Is this really okay? The mood finally thawed—stealing equipment like this feels…."
"He must have a plan. He's not the sort to ruin things just because he's curious, right?"
Shirone fell silent.
Plu, feeling a twinge of conscience, changed her tune.
"To be honest, I don't know either. But everyone here followed that association president to this point. I'm just trusting him like the rest."
Gaold connected the synchro rig to the piper.
When he slid his arms into the fittings, the Guroi mirrored the motion.
"Not bad. It actually feels decent."
With the reinforced glass gone, Gaold could see the landscape and began to move the tank.
"Hmm, what if I try this?"
He twisted the waist actuators to their limit and the Guroi's midsection began to spin like a top.
"Kekeke. Kangnan, look at this."
Gaold playfully swung the arm. Kangnan arched her waist to evade and couldn't help shouting.
"Ah, really! I'm going to smash it for real!"
Having already destroyed four Guroi, their complaints carried weight, and Kanya pleaded earnestly.
"Please, spare them. Guroi are precious equipment."
"Sigh. Fine. That guy's driving me nuts anyway."
Gaold finally took a proper look around.
Not as immersive as the Spirit Zone's synesthesia, but the multivision offered excellent visibility and the firepower was formidable compared to an air gun.
"How many Guroi does the rebel force have?"
"That's classified. Can't tell you."
The Guroi's barrel turned toward the platoon leader with a metallic clank.
It was impossible to tell where the joke ended and the threat began.
"Classified or not, I don't know. At most I'd know the regiment's equipment. One platoon leader wouldn't know the rebels' total production."
Gaold clicked his tongue and stopped the machine.
He climbed down, tossed off the piper, and quietly joined Shirone's group.
Kangnan folded her arms and glared.
"Why? You spent all day like you were going to ride it."
"It makes me nauseous. Worse than I expected."
Kangnan snorted.
Meanwhile, Gaold's mind churned.
'That won't be nearly enough. At least two thousand units? No, more.'
Gaold calculated the number of Guroi required to bring down a single ordinary angel.
* * *
By dusk, Shirone's group emerged from the forest.
They reached a hill overlooking the Plains of the Dead. From the top, the scene stretched to the horizon: the giant columns they'd seen in the morning and the rebel 1st Command's 23rd Battalion engaged in local skirmishes.
The battalion had thirty Guroi in total.
But because Kanya's squad had been detached as support, only twenty-five Guroi were currently in operation.
Divided into five squads, the Guroi units worked with infantry to lure a few giants at a time at least a kilometer from the formation, then concentrate fire.
Every time a giant fell, shredded to rags, Shirone's face twisted in horror.
Giants were still people.
The Mecha unit members had once been subjects; they knew that better than anyone, and a shadow fell across Kanya's face as well.
"Rule is to eliminate giants on sight. If they reach Yotunheim and unify their minds, they'll be able to wield that giant strength."
The platoon leader spoke as if making excuses, but he wasn't wrong.
If eight selves overlapped, the schema's pattern would become as lethal as a master swordsman. At that point a mere battalion couldn't handle them.
The group that had entered the plains returned to the main force quickly.
When the company commander saw they'd brought back only a single Guroi, at first he looked incredulous, then erupted in fury.
"What happened! You said it was Kergoin! I sent five units—did I send them to do this!?"
"Sorry."
The platoon leader kept repeating the same apology.
He was accountable and had no excuse.
But Kanya reacted differently.
Shirone had returned. And he'd brought a far stronger ally than last time.
That was a boon far outweighing the loss of a few machines.
"Company commander! I have a report!"
"Who are you! Can't you see the platoon leader is being scolded? Are you trying to undermine the chain of command?"
A Guroi pilot holds the rank of squad leader among the infantry, but reporting directly in front of the platoon leader was a grave breach.
Kanya couldn't wait.
With the giants' invasion line closing and information coming in by sound, this was something the highest commander needed to hear.
"He's the Light of District 73!"
"What? Are you spouting nonsense?"
Kanya exploded.
"Shirone has come!"