Biological Program (3)
"What on earth are you saying!"
Officials from foreign states shouted in unison.
"You say you can't disclose it! Do you even know what kind of matter this is? If the Ivory Tower plans to monopolize this information—"
"We know what kind of matter it is."
Shirone cut them off.
"That's precisely why we cannot make it public."
The footage Shirone had viewed was neither classified nor mystical.
The reason it couldn't be spoken of was—
"Because it is the truth."
The truth Pisho had passed on at the cost of his body.
Some reach truth through enlightenment, but sometimes the truth itself is cruel.
"There will be no reversal. And the recording device has already been destroyed. The Ivory Tower will review it and then issue a public statement."
Dante raised his hand.
"Wait—Ivory Tower will review it? So you're saying the states are to be ignored?"
"We're not ignoring them. If it were merely a matter of words, we could announce it here. But given the repercussions, it's beyond what any single kingdom can handle."
Seriel had a rough idea, but his doubts weren't eased without hearing it himself.
"Can you at least tell us what it concerns? We have our own intelligence."
"Sorry. We need time to consider."
Seriel scowled while Iruki simply nodded.
I'll ask later, Iruki thought. Saying it can't be disclosed in front of a crowd was political rhetoric.
If it can be reported to the Ivory Tower, then they can tell me as well. That was enough trust.
"I cannot accept this!"
An enraged official shouted.
"We didn't come all this way to hear that! The whole world will condemn this!"
"You were not asked to come."
Shirone glared sharply at him.
"You may respond as your kingdom sees fit, but I advise restraint."
Hmph.
The Ivory Tower's judgement was always right—not because it truly was, but because they alone could enforce their will.
"Let's go back. What a waste of time!"
The Mael Kingdom official turned and the others followed. They kept arguing as they left.
"Are you really going to back down? We have a stake in the crusade. We should sue as nations."
"You won't win. It'll be a war of espionage. There's no perfect secret in the world."
When the officials left, Shirone said, "All done. Let's get something to eat."
Teachers and students from Alpheas School of Magic took their seats at a restaurant they'd reserved. It was a noisy, cheerful gathering, though a few were lost in thought.
With those who would leave gone and those staying remaining, Iruki approached Shirone.
"Hold on a moment." Watching Shirone follow Iruki into the trees, Seriel debated.
I should go too, he thought. He wanted to, but conditions had to be met.
You must be someone who absolutely needs the information. And someone who can be entrusted with it.
Amy stayed for the first reason, but Seriel felt he didn't meet the second.
He won't want me there, he guessed. Dante stayed put; Naid stepped forward instead.
"I should go, too."
Lise stopped him. "Just stay. If you want to tail them back there, you have to qualify on two counts."
"I know what they are." Any mage would.
"Then why do you want to go? You don't really need to know."
"Because I'm curious."
"Don't worry. The important thing is trust. Listen and keep your mouth shut."
"For me too?"
Naid blinked. "You won't tell me either? Are you sure you can do that?"
"Well, I— I won't ask. Right?"
Lise ground her teeth. "Just be quiet."
Naid smacked his lips and returned to his seat.
Shirone and Iruki went into the woods near the cemetery and perched on a rock.
"What happened?"
Shirone understood perfectly, but he only smiled.
"The footage of Pisho—what did it record? You really can't even tell me?"
"Yes. Sorry."
After gauging Iruki's reaction, Shirone's expression shifted into a grin.
"Just kidding."
"I knew. That was a terrible joke."
The Spirit Zone unfolded.
Since Shirone's mind itself was the strongest shield, Iruki felt at ease asking.
"So? What was it?"
Shirone moved to sit beside him. "The truth of this world."
Three hours earlier.
Before the head who'd set up the recording device left the building, he checked one last time.
"All set. Are you sure this place is right?"
"Yes, it's enough."
After he left, Shirone used his Material ability to form a new wall—an airtight chamber that didn't even let air through.
Pisho.
Shirone fashioned a small stool, activated the recording device, and the footage played.
"Shirone."
Pisho was there.
Not the classmate Shirone remembered—mutation had advanced so far only half his face was recognizable.
"How did this happen…"
"Sorry to startle you. There isn't much time. I have to solve one more problem. You understand, right?"
Shirone nodded.
"I'll be brief. The reason I gave you viewing access isn't because you're one of the Five Great Stars, nor because you're my classmate. It's because you're a Hexai."
The left side of Pisho writhed.
"Humanity has uncovered many things. We roughly know the principles by which the world turns. Still, there are questions we cannot grasp. Where, exactly, is this place?"
Why do we exist?
"In truth, the fact that anything exists at all is odd. Once something exists, it implies a cause."
Who created the universe?
"An alien lifeform—Argones. A parasite consuming my body. That's what's telling me this."
Pisho pointed at the writhing mass.
"There was never a universe to begin with. Therefore we never existed, either. There was no initial event where something existed somewhere. Shirone, it's just nothing—nonbeing."
"From the outset there was nothing, nothing happened, and it's the same now. There is no such thing as 'existence.'"
"Then why—?"
Pisho on the screen answered.
"Why do we feel as if we exist? Why does the universe seem to be there? Those are errors born from our inability to perfectly comprehend nonbeing."
Shirone fell silent.
"There's nothing. Truly nothing. We merely mistake it for something. But who makes that mistake? Where is that subject? That doesn't exist either. That's the point, Shirone."
Pisho struggled and raised a hand.
"To explain nonbeing, you have to borrow the concept of being. That's where it goes wrong—time, space, illusions. If you move a pencil on a desk to another spot, does the old spot become nonbeing? Absolutely not. Even the idea of moving something is being. Humans cannot imagine true nothingness. What we can approach is knowing that it's unimaginable. That's as far as we get."
Shirone tried to imagine nonbeing.
He could conjure a logically consistent, conceptual void, but that wasn't true nothing.
To imagine truly, the imagining self would have to not exist—so imagination itself becomes impossible.
"I call this Infinite Nonbeing."
Pisho smiled awkwardly. "It's a concept we cannot approach, but we humans name things nonetheless. Anyway, Shirone, if you trust me, you can understand it now."
Pisho's eyes changed.
"There's nothing—only illusion. It's not indeterminate. The very fact that you think you're mistaken right now is itself a mistake. It simply isn't there. You have to understand that it isn't there."
Pisho's shoulders writhed more violently.
"All of it is within the illusion."
Just as humans cannot conceive of nothingness, they could not truly conceive of everything.
"Everything is a matter of perspective. Differences in perspective about nonbeing separate good and evil, right and wrong, love and hate—countless things. In reality there is nothing. Yet I'm conveying this to you, not to you as you are now, but because—"
Pisho's shoulder suddenly burst with a wet pop.
"An illusion is freedom, isn't it?"
Shirone caught his bitter smile.
"You can find the research on Argones in the Chaotic Lifeforms Laboratory report. The problem is…this thing knows too much—by human standards. And for some reason, it seems to have a mission to erase any life that approaches this secret."
If the footage were made public, Argones would eradicate all humanity.
"There's no time. I'm suppressing it with drugs, but it'll awaken soon. Shirone, you must choose. Will all of humanity fight it, or will you fight alone?"
Pisho's mutation accelerated; his head twisted as if it would snap.
Damn—
Shirone felt the bitter grief of being unable to help.
"Argones is the source of all life. But you are different. You are free from its domination."
Because you're a Hexai.
"Whether it's infinite nonbeing or infinite being matters not. Even if it's an illusion, it was the world I existed in. So—"
"Pisho!"
As Pisho's eyes rolled back, Shirone lunged toward the image.
"I made sure to…pass this on to you. Shirone…"
At last Pisho's neck snapped completely, the mutated cells collapsing and oozing away.
"Ugh! Ugh—!"
Shirone clutched the footage and wept.
"No. No—"
That was why there had been no corpse in the coffin.
When the host died, the cells liquefied and spread like porridge.
Shirone slumped back to his seat, head bowed in thought.
Why is that important?
Pisho's message revealed the truth of the world, but it seemed nothing would change.
Why would Argones want to erase humans who accessed this secret? A key to the outside world.
Infinity. The Infinite Mage.
Couldn't imagine a state of nothing?
A chill ran through Shirone—after reaching the Ninth Sense he had made no further progress.
A flicker flashed across his retina. He snapped his head up.
"What is it?"
The footage wasn't over. Pisho's cells—now viscous droplets—began to writhe.
They moved with a livelier activity, the surface swelling.
There's more?
Finally, the slime, taking on the shape of a person, walked toward the screen, dripping thin liquid. Where a mouth should've been, a circular aperture opened and then tore wide as a voice leaked out.
"Shi...ro...ne..."
It was Argones—the father of living creatures.