The World We Live In (3)
Because it was a matter that could cost her life, Marsha scrutinized the extra clauses in the contract.
"Shirone."
The one who gave her a second chance.
"I want you to be happy. You're the one who gave me back my family and my life."
So—
"I'll keep quiet. If that's what you want, I won't tell anyone, no matter what."
Marsha signed the contract.
Even standing behind a pillar of the main system, she was less than fifty meters from the battlefield.
But the sounds of combat were distant and muffled—she was lost in turmoil.
What should I do?
The file containing Omega 999's history.
By contract it should be sent to Fermi as-is, but the eighty-three percent was the problem.
How much of humanity's future remains? What if that eighty-three percent only contains records of the past?
I have to check. The messenger has to enter reality to send information to Fermi. If this is just canned data, I'll have wasted a precious chance.
Apocalypse-time and real-time differ; once she left, she'd be stuck waiting a long while.
I have to see. The only irreversible opportunity is now. I just won't tell Shirone.
She pulled out an analog watch and used the time difference to calculate real time.
Okay. If there's data from the future beyond today, it passes. If not, we'll mine again from here.
Marsha opened the file.
Entries written in human language filled the pages in chronological order.
Flip. Flip.
Her eyes barely took in the words.
She turned pages only to check dates—and color returned to her face.
It's here.
Not a lot, but the record bore today's date exactly.
Done. Finish here— At that moment a single line of text seized her gaze.
…What?
Before she could think, her brain inhaled an entire paragraph of events at once.
Marsha lifted her head slowly.
Even as she stood dazed, hand turning off the equipment, she was trembling.
So this was it.
Fermi said she would know the moment she saw it—and it was true.
Shirone.
Heat stung her eyes.
So that was it? Even knowing… you erased your memories?
A thunderous blast tore through the place.
"Marsha!"
She turned to see countless jets tearing through the operator's collapsed post.
"We have to get out now!"
When Freeman pointed toward the elevator and a route opened, Marsha darted forward.
"Hurry! Get in!"
Just before the doors closed, the operator—returned to her girl form—boarded.
"Phew. Thought I was dead."
"Good job, sis." The girl with the lollipop looked up at Marsha and frowned.
"Return it after this is over. Don't touch anything else. It's a private secret."
"Oh? Ah, right."
What the—?
Instead of the outrage expected from being called an old woman, her face was full of sorrow.
Smile Mark asked, "Any plan? There'll be jets out there too. We don't have the retrieval gear anymore."
"We'll hold them off— you run. Find somewhere safe and get out of the Apocalypse." Once, Shirone's discarded info—that Rosine had dismantled the Apocalypse—had been used by Fermi to craft an escape code, and that was—
Escape.
Smile Mark stared at the pill in her palm with concern.
"It takes up to ten minutes to get completely out. Is there a place that meets the conditions?"
When they reached the surface, as expected, a swarm of jets sealed the entrances.
This is too much.
Black Circle Mark looked up as if he'd spotted something and murmured, "Game over."
"Sis!" At the same moment, a flare of light burst from the left and swept the jets away in an instant.
Shirone landed in the cleared space.
"Hyung!"
The lollipop girl ran to him, and the Parrot Mercenary Corps let out a relieved breath.
"Why are you so late? We waited forever."
"Sorry."
Shirone counted heads.
"Everyone okay?"
"Yeah. First thing, get away from here. We need one last check before we leave."
Gathering them with Hand of God, Shirone shot up into the sky.
Jets pursued, but none could catch Shirone pushing to escape.
There really is no end.
Cities repeated in endless patterns and facades; there was no sign of nature anywhere.
"This won't do. Let's land where the jets can't see."
Shirone set them down where the jets were blind and asked Marsha about the mining.
"How did it go? Did it work?"
Marsha, trying to keep her expression steady, nodded.
"Yeah. Not perfect, but we achieved the objective. We just need to send it to Fermi."
"Thank goodness."
Shirone exhaled and scanned the surroundings.
"There's nowhere to hide. Jets will swarm in soon—get out of here."
No one objected; everyone took an Escape pill.
Marsha asked, "What's the order?"
No need to decide.
"Everyone leave together. I'll move once more and be the last to go."
"Okay."
In the end, Shirone taking responsibility was the best option, but Marsha sank into sorrow.
Why?
From behind Shirone—watching the distant city—he looked unusually forlorn today.
You shoulder everything and fight for the world… why? Why can't you be happy?
What Marsha saw was—
Shirone.
A flare announcing Omega's end and the history of humanity.
Amy dies.
It would happen six hours from now.
You can't stop it.
It was that kind of cataclysm—but if Shirone knew, the outcome might change.
But I…
Marsha clenched her teeth and stifled a sob.
I can't tell him!
If she fixated on someone special, Yahweh's standards would collapse.
How much it must have hurt?
Even after hearing of Amy's death from Fermi, he erased his memories for the sake of the world.
How many tears did he shed?
He must have asked and asked again.
Denying and denying, searching every way to change the outcome.
"Sis."
Shirone turned.
"Why the long face? Don't worry too much. I'll leave from a safe place too."
Marsha avoided his gaze and swallowed the pill.
"Okay. I'll be waiting."
Of course, by the time Shirone returned, the data would already be with Fermi.
"See you outside."
Her mind going hazy, Marsha suddenly opened her eyes and spoke.
"Um… Shirone."
"Yes?"
His innocent face made her heart ache more, as if he would listen to anything.
I have to tell him.
Isn't that what I should do?
What use is humanity? That boy forgave me. He gave me a new life. So I—
If the price of confiding was death, she would not hesitate to give her life.
But this was Shirone's choice.
A criminal like her could not imagine the near-infinite sacrifice he bore.
"Just… thank you."
Marsha hid her feelings and gave him a small smile.
"I'll look after you for life, Jjasha."
"Haha."
Marsha's body—or rather, her mind—dissolved like heat haze and vanished.
"You're hopeless, honestly." Shirone shook his head, stretched, and looked up at the sky.
"Shall I depart too?"
Though a god-ruled future hadn't changed, Shirone did not despair.
Thank you.
There was a heart here too.
Even if it could never happen again, that heart—through Shirone—would help shape humanity's future.
So—
"Goodbye." The Apocalypse.
"Mica."
■ Construction progress: 31.6548 percent.
The Shirone Sphere's operating speed had accelerated dramatically—paid for only with pain.
"Ughhh!"
In construction that transcended human knowledge, method and efficiency meant nothing.
I can go faster. Faster.
As he focused, his brain felt like it was burning; a scent of smoke filled the air.
…Is this real?
At that moment a solar wind rushed in.
"Amy."
Using his transcendental telescopic sight to pull in light, Shirone detected fire colliding with fire.
The Phoenix screamed.
"Kiiiii!"
Sharing the same attribute, the stronger flame would inevitably swallow the weaker.
"How—"
The Phoenix fixed its gaze on Amy, already three thousand kilometers away.
"You can be faster than me?"
"It's the sun."
The two fire avatars, resonating with the sun, communicated through radiated light.
"Of course that goes both ways. But—"
Amy smiled.
"I'm a professional mage."
With innate prescience and spontaneous combustion, she could move to anywhere on the sun.
"Our inherent powers are different. You know that? On my planet you'd be a Tier-2 creature."
That wasn't weak, by any means.
"…Is that so?" The Phoenix swelled, its fierce eye visible even three thousand kilometers away.
"Does a mortal dare to look down on me!" The Phoenix charged at full power and, swallowing Amy's body, shot upward.
"Rrrr! I am fire!"
As it dove toward the sun, a small whirlpool formed in the Phoenix's chest.
"Huh?"
Convection violently intensified; the Phoenix's wings and neck twisted.
"Kraaah!"
Complete combustion.
Wrapped in a pillar of flame, the Phoenix realized its constituent essence was being drained away.
"No! No—"
The whirlpool exploded, and Amy—burning in the form of a woman—stood upright in the air.
"Kroak! Kroak!"
Before her stumbled a bird no larger than a human.
"Krrr!"
With no essence left to hold form, the Phoenix bowed its head in resignation.
"Well, no cause for complaint. From phoenix to… now you becoming me, after all."
"Yeah."
Amy said, "And someday we'll break down again and become something else in the universe."
"Heh heh."
The Phoenix looked out at the endless cosmos, a corner of its beak lifting as it closed its eyes.
"From fire to human. Usually it's the other way around. Though forgive me—having reached a nonhuman state, why not rule the universe?"
"Because I'm not alone."
Amy stepped closer to the Phoenix.
"If I'd existed alone, I'd never have come this far. I'm one human indebted to the people who helped me, those who died for me, those who fought me, those who hated me. That's all I am."
For reasons she couldn't explain, faces of everyone she'd met rose up at once.
"You're not a nonhuman. You're a human." Amy laid the half-melted, toppled Phoenix across her knees and stroked its beak.
"You don't have to shine alone anymore. Let's bring light to everyone together."
"A human, huh…"
Gazing into the infinite, the Phoenix smiled and closed its eyes.
"Yeah. That'll do."
As the phoenix form melted, its essence soaked into Amy's flame.
It was a flame of the heart stronger than any law.