Humanity's Destination (1)
The Apocalypse mining crew couldn't tell friend from foe with the androids standing before them.
"What are you? Human or machine?"
"We are the Zets."
The lead android said.
"We are those who have perceived the principles of the cosmos. Beings of absolute perfection, free of all vexation."
"Run."
When Shirone spoke, those who called themselves Zets took a half‑palm stance.
"Save sentient beings."
As the mantra was inscribed on their faces, metallic spheres engraved with the same script materialized above their palms.
Projectileization.
It was the method machines used to pierce living things.
"Form is emptiness, emptiness is form."
The spheres shot forward like flashes and bombarded the road ahead; the thunder of explosions embroidered the city.
"Ugh!"
The mining crew hiding behind the Miracle Stream stared, stunned, at the unscathed pavement.
"Damn! What the hell is this made of?"
"The Law."
Shirone said.
"This city is enforced by the Law. Our hearts cannot affect it."
Perfectly flawless, perhaps.
"Go."
Shirone cast Hand of God.
"I'll hold them—mine whatever information you can. We must find the cause."
Marsha said.
"But how? There are no artifacts left in this world. Everything's been cleaned out."
The artifact Marsha had carried had long ago turned to dust and vanished.
"If it's the Law, there should be a database. Find the main system and hack it."
Marsha asked incredulously, "That's Buddha, though. So you want us to… hack Buddha?" The Zets analyzing Shirone's Hand of God displayed mantras on their facial screens.
"The pinnacle of vexation."
The lead Zet said.
"Suffering beings, follow us. Vexation springs from ignorance; perceive the universe's truth and erase the doors of desire, and your vexation will vanish."
"Are you trying to make me a machine, too?"
"The boundaries of life and death are mere attachments. You must accept a single truth."
A single truth.
As expected, what had been unified was not the heart but the Law. And if the world now stretched out before them was the result of that…
Then God had won.
No—nothing was decided.
If a variable arose anywhere in the Five Systems, the Apocalypse could still change.
If this world had reached the apex of the Law, hacking the database right now would be difficult… but if the Shirone Sphere was completed, if the Twelve Apostles prevailed, if the otherworld were purified—
Or anything else!
Shirone clenched his fist.
"The fight isn't over. Humanity, people will rise above the Law."
"Desire begets nothing but suffering. Free yourselves from clinging to existence and open the gate to rebirth in bliss."
His tone was benevolent, but fierce Laws condensed into projectiles around the Zets.
"Annihilate attachment."
Shirone, blocking the fleeing mining crew, swatted the bullets aside with Hand of God.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each time the Law detonated, Shirone's head spun.
Incredible.
Not as extreme as Nane, who had renounced the path, but the machines' enlightenment was forceful in itself.
When he used techniques of the heart to defend against the attacks, the Zets expressed emotion through a sudden silence.
"O King of sentient beings."
A single mantra filled the displays.
"Hmm."
Zets projecting the same characters between buildings surged forward, humming in low tones.
"Ooooooom."
An uncountable number pressed toward him; cold sweat ran down Shirone's spine.
I won't hold out long.
As the time for Gis's press conference neared, the protest noises in front of Delta grew louder.
"Resign, King Gis of Jaive!"
"Remove the ruler who squanders citizens' taxes! Drag him down!"
Amid the echoing shouts, Gis stood before his office window.
"You miserable brats!"
He lifted his chin and bared his teeth; his right hand was stroking himself.
"Keep talking, huh? Come on, make me more excited."
Mairun, reviewing the press materials, adjusted his glasses and approached.
"The draft has been prepared. Please review it."
"Hah! Hah!"
Gasping and shaking his torso, Gis snatched the papers Mairun offered.
"Ah, damn! Give it a little shake."
"All right."
While Gis's hand toyed, Mairun's serpent‑sharp eyes swept the contents.
"What is this? Who drafted this?"
"The secretariat—"
"No, never mind. Is this serious? Telling me to cry while talking about my daughter's death?"
"To stir sentiment—"
"Who doesn't know that? It's so contrived! Do you know how quickly citizens pick up on this stuff?"
Gis slapped the paper down.
"A journalist will ask. Then you suddenly choke up… huh? How can you be so out of touch with the times? That's why you never get ahead."
"I'm sorry."
"Delete this sentence too: 'No pain compares to losing a child.' It's too aggressive. Parents whose children aren't dead won't keep living in sorrow. It just reads like 'my kid's dead, now pity me.'"
"I understand."
"Don't use inversion. The moments where he stammers are all concentrated at the end. Spread them out a bit…"
When Gis went to grab a pen from the desk, Mairun shuffled after him in short steps.
"Fine. Fix it like that."
"Yes."
Relieved of the role of right hand, Gis took the revised pages and returned to the window.
Voices from the citizens reached him.
"Resign, King! Resign!"
"Heh heh heh! Annoying, aren't you? The more you shout, the more I'll take. Stuff this in your mouths and get lost… ugh!"
Gis flinched.
"Krrrgh!"
Mairun, tidying the draft, watched Gis's back as he emitted rough groans.
Is he really human?
How lightly must one regard others to do such things without shame?
Just as no one is embarrassed to strip in front of animals, to Gis humans are… livestock, or worse.
"Phew, that's refreshing. Done with the edits?"
"Yes."
As he zipped up, Gis approached and Mairun bowed courteously, handing over the revision.
"All right, proceed with this."
"Press conference in ten minutes. You must go to the venue. Capital security will provide bodyguards."
The venue at Delta headquarters held not only reporters but dignitaries from many nations.
Albino said, "If Gis is coming, the cleanup's finished. He'll want to air everything out here and leave, but Tormia's trap is still intact."
"His Majesty the King will enter!" Reporters stood as Gis climbed the platform with a hardened expression.
"Good day. Citizens of the capital, people of the noble districts. Today, in this place—"
When his speech ended, the reporters' questions followed.
"Is it true you attended a secret gathering? There are allegations of perverse acts."
"That is not true."
"So the article is false? There were deaths. Be frank."
"The banquet did take place. But it was an ordinary gathering that commonly happens at the temple. There was no sexual entertainment, and the reports of deaths lack substance."
Unless information was deliberately leaked, everything that happened within the temple remained tightly secret.
"Are you saying it really didn't happen?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, this temple determines humanity's future. Would the kings of various nations gather and engage in things too obscene to speak of? Is that common sense?"
Nobody knew. No one had ever been king.
"There's a rumor Princess Rebekah has died. Can you comment?"
At that moment, color drained from Gis's face.
Thinking of his daughter's face, his lips trembled and his chest felt torn.
"My daughter… ugh!"
Gis did not hold back his emotions and began to wail.
That was all.
Albino's eyes went cold.
He is not without feeling. No—precisely speaking, he understands feeling.
Of course he would be sad at his daughter's death.
So what?
Gis thought inwardly.
My child died and I'm sad—so what? Being sad is being sad. Am I supposed to starve because of it?
Albino murmured, "He feels, but only to a point. He uses that coldness to his advantage—shame, conscience, even sorrow over a child's death."
"That's what makes him strong."
It might be the pinnacle of psychological killing.
"By natural selection carnivores developed fangs. If human society is a field of survival of the fittest, the lack of emotion could be seen as a kind of evolution."
"Looking back through human history, rulers have almost always been cruel."
"Right. If animal evolution is driven by feeding and reproduction, what reshapes humans is money and power. That's a force incomparable to a beast's fangs. Emotions are quickly neutered, and the 1.5‑generation humanity is born."
"Will only such people remain in the end?"
"Who knows. It contradicts humanity's ideals, that's clear. But if you released a hundred 1.5‑generation people and a hundred first‑generation people into the same space, what would happen? The first‑generation would be wiped out instantly."
There was no denying it.
"Emotions—how soft things make humans fragile—is something every human knows. Yet they can't discard them. Like herbivores love grass, emotions are a reason people live. Predators' tastes are different."
"They eat the animal that eats the grass."
"Right. Even now."
Gis hid his dark thoughts and continued speaking.
"I fully accept responsibility for disturbing public sentiment. Therefore, I now—" He bent at the waist.
"I formally beg forgiveness. Give me a chance to make amends; I will show you at the temple."
A king apologizing—an unprecedented event—sent reporters' pens flying.
Albino murmured, "A finishing blow."
Gis, who actually bowed deeply, felt an exhilarating lightness.
Here, have the bait you like. How is it? Feels great, doesn't it? This is new for you, right?
A king apologizing to citizens.
If you give them pride, they'll live. But I can't stop at that. I must possess the most expensive things in the world. I must have every woman I desire. I must enjoy luxuries every day that ordinary people couldn't afford in a lifetime.
Pride?
What nonsense. You idiots—the neck and back are meant to bend. They're for picking things off the ground. To attach meaning to something a three‑year‑old can do…
It's far too easy.
Ah, yes.
Thinking he would again rule over them, his desire boiled.
I'm the king. I'll take it all. Why? Because I have the power to do so.
A reporter shouted, "Don't insult us! Citizens aren't so foolish as to be fooled by political gestures!"
Another retorted, "Watch your language! He is the King of Jaive! Show respect!"
Hurry up and finish this. Go do it elsewhere. Annoying.
The reactions of citizens who would read the article would soon boil over, but Gis didn't care.
Whatever they say… it will never be a single, unified opinion.