Chapter 4: Verdict Day
Emotionalism
T hen:
The empty puppet and the white bird who could not fly
ran hand-in-hand from all that worked to pull them apart,
and looked up at the sky.
The sky let them believe they could go anywhere.
That sky the chick’s wings could not reach.
But if they could, what would they gain?
the puppet wondered.
It was the day they had first met.
When the chick had spoken the puppet’s name.
A title shunned for meanings two
and a name sworn in three.
I am the sky. The empty sky. Your sky.
The puppet vowed on its name to bring that sky to life.
To break and smash every cage.
To forever defy that which held them down.
So—where do you want to go?
The puppet asked the bird, who implored…
It was the appointed day…only an hour until the game was set to start. All Sora could perceive clearly in the darkness was the hard seat and the feeling of Shiro in his lap. Behind him—
“Spirit-arm expansion…connected! I’m launching it, I am…!”
—he heard Til shout as she swung down her hammer. It struck at their feet with a boom.
Everyone was silently praying: Please, start up okay. Then spirit light raced through the seals and lit the small space, the cockpit that enclosed the three of them. Next, the unit’s field of vision was displayed across the whole surface of the cockpit.
They were situated amidst long-abandoned underground city ruins. It was a waste disposal site, metal refuse filling the remains of plants where everything had stopped except the eternal Holy Flame. This was the place where the unneeded scrap came to rest—in other words, their promised place. There stood their giant humanoid machine, heavy Gatling gun in both its hands. From the Demon Stance, it twisted back its left hand and fired in the eight-o’clock direction.
“Yuhh! It works, Til! Shiro, how’s it lookin’?!”
“…All systems, green… Leave the shooting…to me…”
Sora and Shiro shared a single seat in the cramped cockpit, checking the grip on the joysticks on either side. Sora held the right and Shiro the left, catalysts they held with orichalcum gloves while willing their body to move. They nodded with satisfaction as the unit took just the “cool pose” they imagined. They moved it like their own bodies—no, like one body, two in one. Both smiling, they controlled it more nimbly than their own bodies. Meanwhile, behind them…
“They’re not green, they’re nottt… Despite all that, the screen is all red, it iiis.”
Til whined in the second seat, clutching her hammer. The screen had gone red, alerting them of errors even in the startup process, even in the initial diagnostics.
“Are you truly sure about this?! Sir and Ma’am, you intend to confront the chieftain—with me, you do? In a four-day rush job like this? I can’t guarantee it went well, I can’t! I couldn’t even if we’d had forty years, I couldn’t! I—I don’t want to dieee…”
Yes… Combat through spirit arms. All damage would converge into their cores, which meant they’d lose the game if Sora’s and Shiro’s joysticks and Til’s hammer broke. It was a very safe battle game in which it was impossible to break each other’s frame. However…
Damage unrelated to the collision of their spirit arms, such as, oh, accidental explosions and other forms of self-induced damage were outside the warranty. So, they were all glad it had started up okay , sparing them a “dead end” before the game started, but Til’s point was that they’d have little room to complain should they die in a sea of flames any moment now.
« —Is this really going to go all right without Jibril? »
The voice chimed in from far beyond the vision of Sora, Shiro, and Til’s unit. It was a signal from the unit lying in wait at the top of an abandoned factory. They could just make out its silhouette at maximum zoom, but it was clearly distinct in style from the others: an iron golem that looked well-suited to be the boss of the end of some ruins. Its simple yet refined form was decorated with flowers, and several lines of spirit light glowed on it. This was Chlammy and Fiel’s unit.
“Yeah…Jibril can’t participate in this game. We knew it.”
Sora answered with a grin that everything was as planned. After all, differences in gifts were absolute—including burdensome gifts. As in the case of bullshit gifts that vaporized orichalcum upon synchronization due to excessive spiritual energy. Poor Jibril, unable to fulfill the game’s basic requirements, was left to sulk at Til’s hideout.
“What I’m more worried about is…are you guys sure you can do this with Chlammy as pilot …?”
Sora brought up another “gift” with a solicitous smirk.
In unit testing, Fiel had said she’d give piloting a try. Then she’d pushed all the limbs of her unit forward at once, fallen, and gotten its head stuck in the ground. She was unimaginably gifted when it came to being clumsy.
… How did you manage to do that with a unit that was supposed to move according to your will like your own body? Sora started to suspect that it was less a gift and more a curse that forbade the race from using tools, but—
« …We knew how it would be, too. I’m at least better suited than Fi. »
« Why, I’ll be providing support back here. There’s a proper place for each of us. ? »
The voice indicated the bizarre, insanely big cannon mounted on the unit’s back, which was apparently made of wood. So Chlammy was piloting and Fiel was shooting. Then again—
« … Just checking one last time. You’re fine if we go for the win for real , right? »
« Why, we’re more worried about you two. Can you really hold up your end of the bargain …? »
—“ ” were only human, too, after all. Chlammy gave a somewhat complicated reminder, while Fi prodded sharply.
“Not to worry. When we play—we intend to have fun. ? ”
“…Trust us…we’ll play …until, we’re satisfied… ? ”
But Sora and Shiro replied with irreverence, as carefree as could be. Sora also muttered:
“I doubt no one but Blank could take on Veig.”
Until our tricks come to light —that bit he kept to himself. Sora and Shiro cast aside their doubts and closed their eyes in anticipation of the start.
…Orichalcum gloves gripping their joysticks, Sora and Shiro—and Til—synchronized their souls, their three cores connected…and they moved as one unit. At the sense of their feelings lining up, as if they were holding hands with their hearts, Sora felt—
—it wasn’t bad… It was kind of like when Shiro would fall asleep on his lap. Their heartbeats, their breathing, even their emotions gently overlapping…it was, in other words, as usual. Sora and Shiro didn’t even need to connect through catalysts for their comfortable tension and pulsations to sync up. There was just Til, who was supposed to sync up likewise.
“…It’s six hundred seconds…to the start of the game…it is.”
As if in response to Til’s uneasy murmur, a device shot up before them.
It split into many pieces that attached themselves to the ceiling: countless cameras and shift anchors. They themselves had stipulated that the venue and their units would all remain secret until ten minutes before the start. The equipment Til had launched had been supplied by Veig for the purpose of broadcasting the game throughout Hardenfell. They felt the gazes of Dwarves on every monitor in this country, the second largest in the world.
Sora, Shiro, and Til. And Chlammy and Fiel. Two units, five people—they waited in the silence disturbed only by the burning of the Holy Forge, waited for the start of the game, the arrival of their opponent. And in the end—
“Let’s paaaaaartyyyyyyyyy!!!”
That didn’t come over the comm system; rather, it boomed from the external speakers. This thing appeared in the air over the venue, the blue particulate light of its demi-shift through the anchor following in its wake. Its flowing silver body landed kicking up a storm of scrap and rubble like a cannonball. This was the unit they’d seen six days ago, with just one difference, but still—
“We’re live!! Ya got the theme song goin’?! Ready to break down the highlights after I win?!”
Its left hand drew the ridiculously large sword from its back and brandished it at the countless cameras. It was ready to declare victory to all of Hardenfell.
No Dwarf could need to ask why. For indeed—
“It’s me—the mothafockin’ chieftain of Hardenfell!!!”
—it was, in fact, the greatest of all Dwarves, a talent unrivaled in this age…and his masterpiece.
……
Sora and the rest had no way of knowing what kind of cheers and music were going on at the other end, but—
« ……Mmm? So, this is the place, is it…? Well, I suppose anyplace will do, eh…? »
—on-site, these words were echoing emptily, while those present said nothing. Looking slightly peevish, he switched to the comm system—directing the head of his unit into the distance—and switched gears.
« You really think you can beat me with that sort of rubbish? Are you fockin’ with me? »
As Veig’s deeply disappointed blame came through, everyone there had to admit:
— Yeah…it sure looks that way…
Face-to-face with Veig’s machine, even Fiel was forced to chuckle at the inferiority of her own. And then there was the one controlled by Sora, Shiro, and Til.
« …And even you can’t do better than borrowin’ some shit? If you’re mockin’ me, I’m gonna have to crush you. »
Indeed…it was “borrowed.”
The machine of Lóni Drauvnir, from six thousand years ago, which had been displayed at the Chieftain’s Hall. A relic of the past. Already an antique. Moreover, they had removed the offensive equipment from the shoulders. It was no wonder that Veig looked at them with spite and disillusionment. No one could refute that their unit was inferior to Veig’s. No, they couldn’t refute it…they couldn’t do that. However!
“Who the hell are you to talk?! You think we’re the ones fucking around?!”
They could rebut it!!
Sora spoke for Shiro and Til in the cockpit with him—as well as Chlammy and Fiel at the venue—and probably even Jibril, who was watching:
“You don’t even care if it’s alive now?! Why are you talking shit to us from a big-tittied robot ? Are you out of your mind?!”
…Bwoing…
There swaying in an annoyingly healthy manner was the one difference from the unit they’d seen the other day. The faces of all twisted in disgust at the big boobs that looked as though they had simply been bolted on. However—
« Hff… Inspired by those lovely raw tits, I found a way to reach even loftier heights, and you still can’t appreciate it…? What’s wrong with you? Are you one of those? Some pipsqueak who doesn’t know art when they see it? »
“You think jiggly boobs are art?! Hey, stop pushing them up! Stop pushing them forward! Stop twisting around!!”
Undeterred, Veig exhibited his mighty mammaries. Unable to take it, Sora clutched his head.
“…Look. It’s like game genres. When you specialize like that, you’re limiting the audience… And when you’re so specialized that what you’re looking at is narrower than the head of a pin, you really gotta expand your viewpoint and think like the man on the street— At least shape the whole mech like a woman, will ya?! ”
As for what was pissing him off: It would be one thing if we are talking about a female robot as in Virtual-*n, but this was just a bouncy lump of metal with huge boobs attached to a sleek frame.
…What was with the bouncing? Even liquid metal shouldn’t bounce like that!!
« Whaddaya want from me, kid? I gotta fight with this thing! You don’t get to rebuild it. That’s against the rules! The specs can tolerate minor cosmetic modifications like this—so I ripped my heart out settling for what I could, ya know?! »
“Rip all your guts out!! Why’d you have to stick those on something you were gonna fight with in the first place?!”
Their exchange continued across the communication line, unbearable to listen to. But on an entirely unrelated note—
“… It’s sixty seconds…before the game starts…it is…”
—Til mumbled, growing more and more uneasy, and, concurrently…
…the sound of steam from the Holy Forge filled the venue, heralding noon.
« …Arright, then—no changes to the rules or chips— »
Whomever he was responding to, Veig raised his mech’s hand and continued.
« It’s over if I break all your cores, or if you break mine… By the way, is this all the players? If you wanna allow new challengers, you gotta say so now. »
Veig asked high-handedly, somehow recognizing that Jibril wasn’t there. But Sora, Shiro, and Til likewise raised their mech’s hand and answered.
“Well, you know, we don’t have that many friends. The ones here are everyone. We’ll keep it closed to new challengers.”
“…No magic, other than, spirit arms and seal rites… Can’t use it anyway… No problem.”
« Why, we’re such good friends, I’ll let that sliiide even though it’s quite a problem. ? »
Fiel’s agreement was dripping with discontent as Veig gave a little smirk. The twist in his lips could be heard in his voice as he laid out the main point with resounding weight.
“Arright, ready to rumble? See if you can make me accept your soul.”
And so the three mechs and the six people in the cockpits each raised their hands and boomed out in chorus:
— Aschente —
« Ha! Niecey, you’re in this, too…? Ain’t got nowhere left to run, huh? »
“……”
Veig, who’d heard Til’s reedy voice, went on with a jolly laugh.
« Just so you know: I keep my promises. Don’t be expectin’ any mercy from me. »
—…Grk…
Through the catalysts, Til’s feeling as she tremulously gripped her hammer made its way faintly to Sora and Shiro.
…It was the natural feeling of one who looked to the sky despite not being able to fly. The trembling of her hands was that of throwing oneself into it —a mixture of fear and unease. However, when she realized they shared her feelings, the trembling subsided slightly. Yes…they felt the fear as it honed their focus to the max. Til likewise felt the unease… and for that very reason , felt herself filling with hope.
« …Ho, fockers. Let me add another chip. You got to tell me where you poked to turn on my fockin’ niece’s motivation, arright? You can do it after you lose and come to. »
Veig’s savage sneer was answered by the fire and brimstone that signaled noon—the horn of the Holy Forge, announcing the start of the game. Simultaneously, the clumps of metal, amalgamations of truth and falsehood, collided and produced an explosion louder than the Forge itself.
No sooner did the Holy Flame erupt to mark the start of the game than Chlammy and Fiel’s golem turned tail and disappeared into the ruins. The unit controlled by Sora and Shiro also fled without a moment’s hesitation. Veig’s specs were unknown, but clearly superior to theirs. And on top of that, the pilot was Veig. Close-quarters combat was out of the question. Therefore, Sora and Shiro went for the tactic of firing projectiles from mid- to long range—but.
« Mmm… Arright, I’m gonna check… whether you’re really playing me for a fool . You can dodge this, can’t you? »
The voice came through the unit leisurely watching them from four hundred meters away.
And then— something flew in front of their eyes, while before their brains could even process it, Sora and Shiro, and even Til…just perceived one thing. It was as incoherent as if several seconds had been lost from their memory. It was too sudden. Veig’s unit was supposed to have been four hundred meters away—and now it was before their eyes , raising its giant sword overflowing with light. All they perceived was the chill , the goose bumps rising on their skin with the knowledge that their unit was about to be cleft head to toe…
.
…Sora’s understanding just managed to catch up: Veig had hurled his sword and used it as an anchor to demi-shift before them…as Veig grabbed its hilt in his unit’s left hand. But understanding it wasn’t enough to evade it. Sora couldn’t even move. He just sat there watching the blade come down with literally all Veig’s spirits, his entire soul… A flash sufficient to take down their mech and reap their souls with it… It should have spelled instant death. But true to the Covenants and the rules, the damage converged into Sora’s, Shiro’s, and Til’s cores—yes—
“Agh ? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhh?!”
The blow assaulted their synchronized cores, and they screamed ?
……
The next thing Sora knew, he was on a hill, where a pleasant breeze was blowing.
“… Master. Why—why is it…you choose to flee…?”
Jibril stood before him, the mountainous peaks of her chest swaying.
“My flesh is yours…and yet you have never once sunk in your hands.”
—Wha…? Um, it’s not so much fleeing as desperately holding back.
“Why is that, Master? Is my flesh not worthy of your use?”
—Uh…why? B-because my sister—Shiro’s here, and…
His eyes wandered in search of an excuse not to cup the massive boobs of the teary-eyed Jibril…but what they found was the big-boobed Loli Shiro smiling beside him, giving him the go sign with her upturned thumb.
“Is it because you lack confidence as a man that you flee from my bounty?”
—Wha… Uh? Have I…been…fleeing…?
“Master… titties are not threatening. Please summon your courage and overcome your fear…”
—Oh… Okay, I guess maybe I have been fleeing; I mean…
Sora extended his arm to answer her prayer that he knead her ample bosom. After all, to refuse such a plea under these circumstances would be a boy’s shame. If his big-boobed sister, Shiro, said it was okay, then he shouldn’t have any motive to hold back!! And so, ah…if happiness had form, it could only be the form of this sensation!
“…Brother… The boobs…are fake… Wake…up!”
As Sora massaged his unnaturally soft happiness, he heard a distant voice. Yes…from somewhere far away—a voice not of the fake sister beside him ? !
………
That’s right—fake is fake… It could never compare to the real Shiro—!!
With firm resolve, Sora escaped from the illusion and returned his awareness to the cockpit where the real Shiro awaited…
“Wha—?! Heyyy, Shiro! For a brother to squeeze the huge boobs of his eleven-year-old sister, isn’t that cause for a unanimous guilty verdict—?”
…and lamented his crime, realizing that the illusory happiness he’d experienced was the feeling of the mammillary augmented Shiro on his lap. Sora pulled away in a panic, but— No you don’t!! Shiro swiftly clenched his hand tight. Kneading her large breast with Sora’s hand as if she wanted to add to his sentence, she told him.
“ …Fake boobs are superior! Fake boobs…are pads…!! Which means…you can touch them and squish them…you can do anything…and it’s okay! Is there, something wrong…with touching…a balloon, stuffed in the chest?!”
……
……Huh? Now that you mention it…
Just as Sora was starting to be convinced—
“……Mm. ? ”
“S-sir… Ma’am!! Th-the control… W-we’re out of synchronization, we aaare!!”
—Til, likewise thoracically enhanced, yelled over Shiro’s moan, for which Sora was thankful.
“Come to your senses, Shiro!! A brother who sticks a balloon into his little sister’s chest and squeezes it saying, ‘It’s oookayyy, it’s just a balloon, gweh-heh-heh’ is seriously fucked in the head! And in any case, people aren’t gonna look kindly on it, you know?!”
Sora gripped the deeply cracked joystick and screamed as a sight filled his newly reclaimed vision—the sight left behind by Veig, now far away . Shiro and Til, too, blanched and swallowed.
Veig’s blade had just started to sink into the chest of Sora and Shiro’s unit, whereupon they’d shaken it off. His blow had activated the “big boob essence” within the sword—its conceptual rewriter—and broken through the junk pile around them. But it wasn’t its raw force at which they shivered. It was Veig himself, who’d produced this spectacle. Statues rolling at Veig’s feet, even statues of little girls that looked to have been cast aside, all showed prominent breasts. He was a pervert.
« Tch, you refuse my ideal tits. Picky, picky… Who do you think you are, virgin? »
“I know who you are if you’re fussing that even statues all have to have big boobs . You’re a pervert!”
Sora howled on behalf of everyone, aghast at Veig. Then—
—all three shivered: It’s as expected, but what a fearsome game .
…The damage converged into the cores—yes, the cores that synchronized their souls with orichalcum. So, they literally smashed their souls together, and if his soul overcame theirs, it would infringe on theirs as it had just done. And if their hearts broke, just as their joysticks were cracking now, their cores would crumble… Ah… Indeed it was a collision of souls…!! The frame was safe; it wouldn’t break. But one wrong step, and big boobs would reign supreme, statues and all!!
… They had to think a little about whether they’d rather cross that line or die…!!
« …Hff… Who would have thought …? »
Sora and Shiro’s unit was bracing itself with unconcealed terror. But Veig, facing them, seemed more interested in that unthinkable last moment, which he recounted with heartfelt pleasure. Yes—
« First of all, for my fockin’ niece to be about as full of spirits as me … Who woulda thought ? »
Yes—Sora and Shiro’s unit was a masterpiece of a past talent and Veig’s only rival, Lóni Drauvnir. Even without the “big boob essence,” no one should have been able to move it but Veig. Moreover:
« And ya demi-shifted that great big thing—and that firepower! Who woulda thought ? »
Indeed, just as Veig had done a brief while ago, they too had used a demi-shift to dodge behind him. And immediately afterward, the Gatling gun in their unit’s arms had unleashed a torrent of suppressive fire that cut through the ruins in the way, pierced Veig’s mech, and stopped him in his tracks. Such a powerful barrage should have been impossible without spirits similar in magnitude to Veig’s.
« But what I really never woulda thought— »
Veig named the yet more unthinkable, his voice tinged with both glee and ferocity.
« —is that you’d dodge me without being able to react , and cut off my pursuit. How’d ya fockin’ do that? »
Indeed. Neither Sora nor Shiro, nor even Til were able to react to Veig’s maneuvers. On top of that, they’d failed to dodge his strike completely and had lost themselves to an illusion for several seconds. So looking at that whole series of events—
—what was their trick to pulling that off without being able to react or even be aware , the voice asked?
“Ha-ha, something impossible in a game? Gotta be somebody cheating, obviously. ? ”
“…If you can find…the trick …then try…to find it… ? ”
“Uh, um! Should I not point out that both of you are dripping with cold sweat?!”
Til quite needlessly ruined Sora and Shiro’s tough-guy act.
« Ha!! Game’s on… You’d better not let the cat out of the bag too easy and let me down. »
Veig took a fighting stance following this bold statement, and the atmosphere grew tense once more.
Indeed…among the things Veig “had never thought”—
— wasn’t that they’d be able to dodge at all…
The new tension made it clear: As he’d said, that was just a test run. Of course they should be able to dodge that. Now things would get real. Veig lunged at them again—
« But first… »
—or so he made it look, while without the slightest hesitation—
« Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out, ya unworked titwad? You think I’m stupid?! Do ya?! »
—he swung his mech’s left fist around with the full weight of the unit, roaring out of the blue. How could he figure it out?
The projectile came from over seven thousand meters away at a magical speed close to that of light, from the mighty cannon hauled on the back of the unit of Chlammy and Fiel, who’d hidden immediately after the game began. They’d used that oversized bazooka to snipe at him the moment he let his guard down. There was no way he should have been able to sense their magic bullet. But somehow, he must have had a hunch. Seeing its trajectory as plain as day, he took it down with his fist.
Iron fist intercepting ammunition. A collision—a flash. A roaring shock wave. Having laid waste to all the ruins around him, Veig stood calmly rooted to the spot—
«…Oh, I see… This whole time…I was a rubbish-eater not worth living …»
—and let such melancholic words spill across the comm line… But that was only momentary.
« —Hey, damn you, titwad! The hell are you doing? You almost made me depressed there for a second. The hell?! »
He pulled himself together just in time to dodge the second shot. Another voice answered Veig’s clear cry of fear and distress.
« What am I doiiing? Why, I’m merely striking you with my soul— expressing my proclivities just as intended. ? »
Fiel’s transmission as her unit once more disappeared brought another chill down Sora’s, Shiro’s, and Til’s spines.
Yes—this…this fearsome game… It was truly a clash of souls. And so…!!
What Fiel was expressing, as she momentarily dragged Veig deep down into the dumps—
« I simply cannot abide you moles. ? You just rub me the wrong way ! ? »
—was a deep-seated, 100-percent-pure, utter rejection—an instinctive revulsion… What specifically had Veig seen and thought? They didn’t know.
« Aren’t yer tastes a little out of line, witch?! If I lose, it looks like I’m gonna have a mental breakdown ! »
« Why, that would be wonderful. I was planning to commaaand you to do so after my victory anywayyy. ? »
But Veig quaked and howled at the soul so intense it had sunk him into self-loathing until…
…suddenly, he glanced around and looked up.
« …Huh. Well—suppose I should have expected it. »
Sora, Shiro, and Til’s mech had vanished, while Fiel, on the other hand, still knew where Veig was.
« …I did say you could come at me with as many of whatever kinds of machines you wanted—and I never said you couldn’t meddle with the venue , either, did I…? So if you say the venue’s a secret until just before, then yeah… »
Sora, Shiro, and Til all got the chills to hear Veig put his finger on the edge of their scheme so easily.
Yes, they’d been able to dodge his first attack because they’d planted demi-shift anchors in advance . For the time being, they reloaded with ammo they’d likewise planted.
« I should assume the stage itself is your machine—your hunting grounds, eh? Ha… »
But they’d been well aware he had the intuition to read that far. So they got the chills not just because he’d revealed one of their tricks…
« …You’re in way over your head—callin’ me prey… »
…It was because they’d had the clear illusion of seeing his fang-toothed sneer as he spoke.
Indeed—there was no rule that said you couldn’t prep the battlefield. Nor was there any dictating that players at leisure in their cockpit, like Chlammy and Fiel, couldn’t watch the broadcast that so helpfully relayed throughout Hardenfell their enemy’s movements. And so Chlammy and Fiel observed as the fight of Sora, Shiro, and Til versus Veig ratcheted up. The golem lay concealed in the shadows of the ruins, its propulsion deactivated to forestall spirit detection. But its residents frowned.
They could never stand a chance in terms of machine specs or combat ability. So, when engraving rites on their machine, they hadn’t bothered with the specs at all. They’d put everything into one over-the-top weapon—a sniper rifle specialized in raw projectile power. A magicannon : a cannon whose seal rites Fiel put all her spirits into so it could fire with the greatest force possible. Combined with her undying hatred, Fiel knew her potent soul was enough to overpower Veig. These two trump cards proved successful in impinging on Veig. Yes, just as set out in their deal with Sora and Shiro, they had plenty of chances to win. It was all going according to plan. And for that very reason, Chlammy and Fiel cursed at the screen silently:
You nonsensical little shits …
This was bullshit. It was absurdity they could predict but not comprehend. For instance—
« Ha!! That’s a powerful shot ya got there—but your soul’s light as a feather!! »
—there was Veig, demi-shifting using the sword he’d struck into the ceiling like lightning as an anchor. Then transforming his giant sword into countless curved blades that traced innumerable arcs through the air. Demi-shifting all over the place as they flew through every nook and cranny of the ruins. Bullshit.
Or, for instance—
« You can scratch my frame, but you ain’t touchin’ me!! I can’t hear your soul! »
—there was Sora and Shiro, dodging the countless blades flying too fast for the eye to follow. Veig used blades as anchors to demi-shift, and although Sora and Shiro shouldn’t have been able to identify which anchor or how to even react—
« Well yeah, if you’re gonna be screaming about how you’ll only accept uniformly huge boobs, we can’t help but joke around! »
« …Brother…! Before, you joke around…shift…! »
—they somehow identified it and somehow reacted. Howling a ferocious battle cry, they rained bullets on their opponent as if they’d known he’d appear behind them.
How did such absolute bullshit manage to hit him? Even the near-light-speed magic bullet of Chlammy and Fiel’s sniping, while it had hit him when he let his guard down, was dodged the second time—
« Did ya know?! Your taste in tits corresponds to the size of your self-confidence, ya mewling kitten!! »
« Is that so? Then you’re one overconfident bitch!! Learn a little humility, little man!! »
« Ngrah! Hey, I ain’t small! I’m packin’!! You’re the one who’s small!! »
« I meant little as in small-minded! Are you saying my thing is small?! Th-th-that’s not even true! »
They easily picked out the positions and moments in which Veig wouldn’t be able to dodge. Veig ended up coming up behind the building at Sora and Shiro’s back and slicing it in two .
« Ha!! Only a small man can’t answer with “It’s big”!! »
« …Brother…! …Even, if…he’s right…don’t listen to him! »
« Hey, Shiro, knock off the friendly fire!! He doesn’t know what your brother is capable of—not that we want him to! »
How did they dodge that? They couldn’t have seen it. They couldn’t have reacted to it. Even Sora and Shiro were just humans—!! Chlammy at last let out a gasp—Most incomprehensible was that which Sora uttered as Veig’s fist burst out through the crumbling building—an instant too late to feasibly evade—and Sora’s unit shifted just as it connected.
« —Pshhh, no sweat!! Get outta here, ya big-boob fascist!! »
« I—I, too! A-am not done yet, I’m not… I’m fine, I aaam!! »
— How can they endure it? How can they remain so steadfast in their rejection of big boobs—?! My core would have crumbled into dust with the very first strike!!
Their resolute resistance against Veig’s soul was the greatest bullshit against which Chlammy shrieked internally.
It’s inconceivable. It’s bizarre. And these are mere Immanities? Mere humans?! They couldn’t be human. Normal humans ?
« …Brother… Why, do you deny, my boobs…? »
« ? Come again? What was that, Shiro? »
—Yes…normal humans should behave like this. The sad voice of Shiro, who had buckled under Veig’s whispers, echoed in Chlammy’s mind.
— Oh…I almost forgot. Chlammy smiled as Fi restarted their unit at the same moment. That’s right…Sora and Shiro are just humans. Mere humans, who go astray and fail. Chlammy was thus relieved to hear Shiro confronting her brother with the ultimate question.
« …Brother, you’re a, lolicon… You like them, smooth and flat… But when I grow up and grow boobs …will you, not like me anymore? Will you…abandon me…?! »
The question of: What will you do when she’s not a Loli anymore? Yes, the lolicon’s fateful question. The ultimate question. However…
« How many times do I have to say it?! I’m not a lolicon! Besides!! You can grow big boobs, or get old and wrinkly, or even turn into a man!! Nothing could make your big brother not like you! … Hey, are you crying?! »
…unlike the flustered Sora, Chlammy understood what was in Shiro’s heart as if it were her own.
Yes, Shiro had been hit by Veig’s soul and was just temporarily conditioned by it. Her words were not her own., and yet neither were they entirely insincere … Sora was alarmed because he sensed that. Furthermore—
« Uh, excuse me—th-the chieftain! The chieftain’s coming, he iiiis! »
—Chlammy got Veig in the crosshairs so they could follow up on the attack of the out-of-sorts Sora and Shiro. That’s right…fake was fake. Whatever you did, it was the same as pads.
However they might try, the weak could never become the strong… and that was why : If it was impossible to wipe away this feeling of inferiority—if one’s essence would be the same regardless of whether one had big boobs ? !!!
“Then obviously it’s better to have boobs , isn’t it?!”
As she pulled the trigger, Chlammy, having momentarily understood Shiro, was beyond Sora’s own understanding.
From 820 meters, the unit that had cloaked itself even from spirit detection fired a shot that ripped through buildings. At almost light speed, the unknowable, unavoidable magic bullet rushed onward. But yet again—
« —Ha!! You think that’ll work twice?! Ya dozy titwad!! »
—just one other than Chlammy understood—or rather, probably just intuited. Veig, having known the trajectory before the shot was fired, leaped before the trigger went down…and escaped. Evaded the unevadable. But Fiel answered without surprise at his paradoxical transmission:
« Why, yesss . After allll, that was ooonce. ? »
Not having known the unknowable, Veig sneered back, while at the same time—
« Aaargh! Who gave you permission to enter our lebensraum?! Begone, black devil! »
« …Eegh?! Qu-quick, I need a newspaper…or a slipper—or—or bug spray…! »
« I knew it, I diiid! The chieftain is more disgusting than a cockroach, he iiiiis!! »
—his evasion let Fiel’s soul blaze on right into Sora, Shiro, and Til, infringing on theirs in an instant. They screeched as their Gatling gun roared.
…Their thoughts temporarily drenched in Fiel’s soul, the three of them rained bullets on Veig. He cried out with the same amount of terror as Fiel’s blast, but more critically—
« Biiitch! Ya damn bloody titwad! Just how much do ya hate me?! »
—he cried out from the heartbreak of being called worse than one of those black beasts by his niece. Undaunted, Chlammy ignored him and turned to go lurk in the darkness once more.
What sort of trickery were Sora and Shiro using to compete with Veig? Whatever it was, Chlammy and Fiel couldn’t imitate it. So it didn’t matter. If Sora and Shiro were going to act according to their deal , Chlammy and Fiel just had to live up to their end. In other words: exploit it and win !
“ We shall take the best and leave the rest! You shall be the sacrifice for my sizable dreams, Sora…!!”
At the bottom of a dim hole a small distance from the venue, there was a girl calmly watching via broadcast as Chlammy disappeared into the darkness of the ruins, her voice tinged with tragic sobs.
“…Um… So basically… Let me go over this, all right?”
It was Steph, in Til’s hideout, where Jibril was watching the monitor, hugging her knees. Emir-Eins had brought Steph here just after the game began, and Jibril had explained the foregoing events. Emir-Eins hungrily fixed her eyes on the monitor, but Steph went on.
“Sora and Shiro created a drug that would make another country sell itself for it—a poison, in other words.”
“You archaeological artifact! You can’t even follow so simple a command from your master as to stay home, can you?”
“So they were offered a game they had absolutely no need to play…and they accepted. Am I correct?”
“ Lament: Threatened by woman of unknown name. Critical. Top priority of this unit is securement of master . Therefore, evaded threat. Precedence over command. Flügel should agree… It’s not my fault.”
“—Excuse me, are you listening?! And I do have a name!”
Steph raised her voice at the two who seemed entirely uninterested in her recapitulation. Mumbling TL;DR to herself, she got straight to the main points, screaming as she went over the reasons why they were playing this unnecessary game:
“Because they say they’ll only let friends run a tab?! And he said that he wouldn’t be friends with someone who didn’t like large breasts?! And this game is about whether women should have large breasts—?! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
…If the people of Elkia got word of this, it would be past time for a coup d’état and they would be well on the road to a revolution. The people be damned—Steph had half a mind to start one herself! But Jibril and Emir-Eins just looked at her pityingly.
“You are as reliable as ever, little Dora, in failing to see past the surfaces of things…”
“ Enigma: Woman of unknown name competent in politics and economics, extremely incompetent in similar games. Unsolvable. Fallback: Lack of comprehension of master identified. Not eligible for love. Resignation recommended.”
“I—I will do no such thing—and I said I have a name! It’s S—”
Steph tried to change the subject, but Jibril interrupted her with a claim that made her gasp.
“My masters have been called upon to settle with the tab of their old world .”
“ ? !!”
Sora and Shiro’s past; their old world, before they came to Disboard. Steph couldn’t say she’d never thought about it. After all, how would she feel if she were suddenly thrown into another world…?
…She’d want to go home. At the very least, she’d feel regret and homesickness. But those two showed no such signs—they never spoke of it all. So Steph always wanted to ask about it. Those two-in-one siblings, who had even toyed with a god… And surely, this past they never spoke of, that of these two who could accomplish anything if they tried…
“Of all things, he asked them a most foolish question : Why did they flee? They simply took that as a challenge.”
“—A…a most foolish question?”
Steph was grateful to Jibril for cutting off her impertinent conjectures, but she did ask what was supposed to be so obvious. Jibril answered as if that very question were absurd.
“In the first place, under what conditions can one say that one has ‘reconciled one’s past’?”
“ Truth: Our debts. Our sin. To reconcile. Does not change past events … Cannot.”
“The past in which we killed each other, all the things which may have been wrong…all led to this day.”
“ Acknowledgment: Accept past. Proceed. Lesson of Master to Ex Machina.”
Yes…Steph listened to those placid words, desperately holding back tears as she felt something well up in her chest.
These two were members of Flügel and Ex Machina…who, in fact, had each lost something irreplaceable at the other’s hands. A past too enormous for Steph, born after the Covenants, to presume to understand… Still feuding, still at odds, even so, here they accepted the past, acknowledged it—and allowed for it… They shared that same hope.
“And then to ask why my masters fled their past? It is as foolish as a question can be.”
“ Conclusion: Masters accept their loss . Redundant explanation. Calculation probability— zero .”
So. Hopefully. The two servants continued together.
“Just as I can now accept my past as all for the sake of meeting my masters …”
“ Vow: Masters fled in order to meet this unit . Past assigned meaning. Unit will assign.”
Their words were like prayers. At last a tear ran down Steph’s cheek. Then Jibril once more gestured to the monitor.
“From this perspective, the significance of this game is great indeed.”
« Enough of your bloody claptrap! You’re runnin’ from tits ’cos you ain’t got confidence, ain’t it?! Ain’t it that right?! »
« Shut up!! You scrubs who think any game that’s not a triple-A sucks can kiss my ass!! »
“……This…argument is over whether they like large bosoms…?”
The sentimentality-destroying repartee made short work of her tearful emotions. However:
“ Sigh: Explanation. Central point of contention of masters in this game is not value of large breasts .”
“Oh, little Dora? Has my master ever said that he rejects large bosoms?”
Hearing the two, Steph looked back at the screen— That’s right!
The reactions of those invaded by the souls of Veig and Fiel were easy to recognize. However—what was the reaction from Sora’s and Shiro’s souls? Wait, in the first place…!
“You’re right…!! In the first place—it’s not the case that Sora despises large breasts !”
Yes, Sora was a lolicon. This was more indubitable than the existence of Tet. But Steph herself had almost forgotten that unforgettable day on which she had first met Sora—!!
“He, uh, um…groped mine!”
Steph interpreted the racing of her heart and the heat in her cheeks as anger as she screamed out. Yes…Steph knew what kind of man he was: a virgin who would take what he could get , who would boldly announce that he was recording the goings-on in the bath for his own, shall we say, self-gratification! In that case, what, in the end, was his contention? Steph asked with a look. But—
“……Goodness? That is news to me, Dora.”
“ Confirmation: Inferred to be boast regarding size of own chest. Also—”
—right then, two voices continued emotionlessly and instantly rendered Steph’s reddened face white.
“You intend to advertise that you have been used by my master, do you? ? ”
“ Command: Disclose context of humblebrag immediately. Rejection not recommended. It will hurt.”
— When he hasn’t even used me…?
Steph felt as if their words and gazes were physically stabbing her and almost passed out.
“ Reserved: Matter at hand has priority. Master rarely speaks of own past.”
“And thus, this game has greater significance in terms of my master’s present.”
Behind their words, Steph felt just as if she could hear what their eyes were telling her.
…Has it really not occurred to you, Stephanie Dola? Look at that Sora—that virginal young man surrounded by so many women. But in only one case has he spontaneously, voluntarily, of his own will…
…groped someone’s boobs.
Yours, bitch!!!!
“I had taken it to mean that he preferred little girls and wondered only about his position on breasts, but…”
“ Recalculation: Irregular data added. Master preferences. Mature body observed as compatible in one instance. Reanalyzing.”
Jibril started scribbling in her book, while Emir-Eins’s head made scratching noises. I see… Steph swallowed. If Sora really would go for any female, then why hadn’t he touched any of them? No, why was it that, even as of now—he’d only touched Steph? It was, indeed, a question of his present situation, his preferences!!
“In any case, this is a test of my master’s ideals. His soul will speak to them. The answer is at hand.”
“ Critical: Remaining Ex Machina cluster attempted to identify master preferences , failed. Revelation imminent.”
If he liked small boobs, they would remake themselves at once with small boobs.
If it was confirmed that he liked little girls, they would remain little girls for eternity, they vowed resolutely.
Yes—for a future that would prove the past all to have been to bring them together—! Today, they would prepare for that day of reckoning, they declared with conviction.
Steph had her own thoughts on the matter:
— I doubt that revelation will come…
Actually, as Steph summed it all up in her brain, her suspicion turned to conviction. Sora, indeed, would go for anything . Or, put more simply—he didn’t even really care .
But in that case—if it was impossible to make peace with the past, if it was unacceptable even to justify it—if, just as these two had declared, the past would be proven to exist for the sake of their meeting—then what about the present? What sort of answer would those two offer for their victory…?
Steph swallowed quietly and followed the others’ lead in staring at the screen seriously.
—Why, in fact, had only her breasts been squeezed? Not even realizing that that was where her attention lay, alas…she watched in perfect earnest……
However, on the other side of the screen—in the cockpit, responsible for controlling the mech as it raced across the stage—Til, more than anyone, was wheezing with questions. The backs of the two competing neck and neck with Veig seemed distant. How?
…She wondered at ways of using a spirit arm she’d never even imagined…
« Heh, I’m finally startin’ to see it…! The secret of how you do the impossible !! »
His strident laughter filled the cockpit… Ah… How could a grubby little mole like Til, with neither the spiritual amplitude of Veig nor the rite-compiling chops of Fiel, accomplish this? These bullets fast enough to catch Veig, this curtain fire solid enough to stop him—
« I know how you get that impossible firepower. It’s by intentionally overloading catalysts and discarding them, ain’t it?! »
Yes—under the storm of Sora and Shiro’s Gatling gun, Veig had seen through this.
“What, you’re talking about that?! D00d, that should go without saying. Of course we’d do that!!”
“…Using magic to accelerate bullets… Laughing…at Newton’s, third law of motion…”
Smiling, they declared it the basic principle of otherworldly artillery.
…Til had lamented the fact that she didn’t have the spirits to pull off a single spell without spirit-arm boosting, nor could she control a booster sufficiently to prevent explosion.
Sora and Shiro had laughed.
—Why bother controlling it?
—It’s gonna blow up? Excellent. Blow it the hell up.
And so their projectiles fired from their cartridges by means of intentional failure and runaway. They careened toward Veig at twenty-four times the speed of sound, difficult even for him to follow. However…
« Oh, sorry ’bout that. Okay—the really impossible part. »
…just as Veig’s ironic voice boomed through, their bullets, which had been striking him with relentless accuracy, whiffed for the first time. And Veig’s slash flashed with movement even Til couldn’t follow:
« Can ya own up to your trick for responding without reacting ? »
Sora and Shiro’s mech demi-shifted to evade and open up the distance with ease. Veig darted through their immediate return fire. The wild cycle of evasion and engagement continued.
Feeling Sora’s and Shiro’s backs grow ever farther away, Til pondered, her expression growing increasingly gloomy.
—How did they dodge these attacks?
—How did they land these shots?
They couldn’t see what was going on. They couldn’t even react. Even Sora and Shiro were just humans. But Til could answer her own question. She knew all the answers.
—They weren’t dodging. They just weren’t where Veig would attack.
—They weren’t landing shots. Veig just happened to be where their bullets would fly.
It was more or less sophistry, playing with words—but that was the nature of their trick. They couldn’t act or react fast enough. So Til had fulfilled their order.
« —Damn you… You’re movin’ before you move, aren’t ya? »
Yes—a paradoxical feeling had led that arrogant voice to point it right out.
Til had built them joysticks that let them input commands in advance. So how had they evaded Veig’s first strike?
Veig had announced he’d attack. As of the moment before that, they’d already performed the input to shift out of the way, turn to where Veig would be, and fire… That was all. But even now, they remained toe-to-toe with the strong, continuing to anticipate the future again and again. They saw a different future from that which Veig saw only as a hunch, a superior future. No, they didn’t just see it—they remade it every time.
Was that just a trick? Were they just weak humans…? She couldn’t see what they saw. She couldn’t even imagine it. Most of all—
« In that case, all I have to do is move with the assumption you’ll read me , yeah?! »
“Spoken like an OP scrub, all right!! Damn it—shit’s gonna get real now. You ready, Shiro?!”
“…Mm…! Cancel that move…! Brother, use…your adrenaline dodge!”
—their input queues drew on Shiro’s calculation and Sora’s finesse, prediction and leading, tactics and strategy. With all of these working together, they were just barely able to stay ahead of the game. But now that the cat was out of the bag, if they ever lost the initiative…it would be too late for them to do anything. But Til most of all found herself unable to understand the emotions of Sora and Shiro that came through the catalysts as she gazed at their backs…
In the midst of the utmost tension and panic, they seemed to be having the time of their lives. Their hearts burned with a joy that was above all that, played on top of all that .
…Suddenly, Til felt their backs getting away from her. And there, in what was supposed to be a small cockpit—
—she saw it…the high, blue sky. That very sky…she’d seen as a child. That…very sky…she’d stopped seeing, at some point… At that sky…where the two in the same cockpit, with the same cores, controlling the same machine were not…Til finally looked down…with a smile of resignation…and grasped it.
Just as Sora said, she wasn’t even the lowest… Those two really had flown… That white-winged bird in that black sky. If to be able to do such things, to be able to reach such heights was what it meant to be weak, then it was true that natural gifts could never be overcome…including the natural gift of being weak .
She grasped that the top and the bottom alike…lay far, far away from her…
« Well—that leaves just one more impossible , don’t it…? »
The resounding transmission continued, and the feeling of the crack running through her core, too, felt far away…as did the mech which, hit by the iron fist that had finally caught up with Sora and Shiro’s piloting, fell to the ground.
“Aaagh… Neverrr… I’ll never accept your boobular fascismmm!!”
“…B-Brother…I—I…really…can’t have…boobs?!”
As did the voices of Sora and Shiro, resisting Veig’s glandular ideology. Everything, even the cockpit screen showing Veig’s machine looking down at them, even the question he asked…seemed far away…
« …If you can do that much… why’d ya run …? »
…His question was clear-cut, free of rebuke or blame or even despair. But Til certainly couldn’t answer that, nor could anyone else—
Then.
« Damn you… We were havin’ a moment there. Ain’cha ever heard of tact, ya bloody… »
Again with a hunch—Veig anticipated the blast that hurtled forth at almost light speed. Grumbling at that soul which made him depressed just to remember it, that soul which therefore had to be dodged, he slid one small, unruffled step to the side.
« Anyway, you ain’t even got anything to do with this… I get what you’re trying to say— Wha…?! »
Or he tried, but it came anyway, leaving behind sound, light, everything. Undeniable— infinite in speed —it transcended space and arrived with a shock wave that flattened the surroundings. It was a direct hit, right in his mech’s chest, knocking him hundreds of meters—
« …Oh. ? I see, a demi-shift shot… Right, an Elf can demi-shift without an anchor … Yeah, a grub like me could never come up with ideas like— Hey, whaaa…?! »
—and yet it didn’t seem to be enough to break his core, his spirit.
« Damn bitches, gimme a break, will ya?! I’ll beat ya to a pulp, ya shiiits ! »
Veig recovered from his depression in a moment and dodged the second shot. He blew his top high enough to bust through the ceiling, and then glanced at Sora and Shiro’s machine, which had managed to get up in the brief interval.
« ……Oh… That’s how it is…? You bitches are a decoy… »
His voice—
« Guess I gotta go crush them before I listen to your soul, huh? »
—sounded as if he had seen through everything. He scoffed.
« All right. You can play with these babies. I’ll be back in a minute. »
Leaving behind countless curved blades to attack Sora, Shiro, and Til as well as blue light, Veig leaped away.
And far, far, away, the golem decorated with countless flowers by now was not bothering to hide. The Holy Forge that pierced the skyless heavens at her back, the pilot, Chlammy, tutted once and pondered.
The demi-shift shot… That had been their third trump card—and a very risky one , the kind that had to finish the opponent off if one were to survive afterward. Of course. The moment the opponent knew they had a shot that was more or less undodgeable, they themselves would become the top-priority target… And then—
—this is what would happen. Just as the blades flew, the sleek silver frame appeared from thin air, an enemy superior to them in both specs and technique.
« …Ho there, fockin’ titwads. I got a promise to be back in a minute, so, sorry— die right here, right now . »
Chlammy chuckled to her backseat companion.
“…Fi? If we go head-to-head with that thing…how much chance do we stand?”
“Why, it’s not even a conteeest. We’re trapped, true to the deal …”
They’d rather it not be the case, but it was a cold, hard fact. Fi answered despondently, and Chlammy nodded back. Yes—trapped. Checkmate. They’d known: That silver frame, that monster—was some bullshit that spelled doom if they let it close. That was why Sora and Shiro had agreed to provide a diversion until they lost…
That was the condition of cooperation. That was the deal. And Sora and Shiro, believe it or not, had actually followed through. Now Chlammy and Fiel’s chance had crumbled. They had lost. And that was what would lead to Sora and Shiro’s victory…!!
……But—
“Fi… It’s all right… I won’t lie to myself anymore…”
—Chlammy uttered something so contrary to reason. Yes—the two who had said they could go for the win had made it so much fun…
All right then. With that, they had no regrets ? !!
“I won’t make you lie anymore, either. From now on—I won’t fear you, Fi…”
Yes—after all, Fi had told her that any Chlammy was the real Chlammy whom she loved.
“ Any Fi…is the Fi I love!! So—answer with your heart!!”
Fi opened her eyes wide and smiled from ear to ear. It wasn’t too late ?
“ ? If we go at it with all we’ve got—we’re not done yet, are weeee?!”
“Why, of—course—nottt! It’s the showdown—let’s see what we have!”
They called a little early—as their fourth trump card raced through their bodies.
…Yes…Fi released the power from the two rites she’d been expending on sealing off her emotions so as not to scare Chlammy—
« ? ?! »
—and right then, from the machine before Veig’s eyes, Fi’s feelings expanded in the manner of a detonation. That instant, Veig lost his composure and reflexively jumped backward into a defensive stance.
…Meanwhile, link tattoos glowed all over Chlammy’s and Fiel’s bodies. They sped up time within their bodies so that Veig’s movement felt to them terribly slow as their golem positioned its sniper cannon at its hip.
The feeling unleashed like a vortex was not malice, not bloodlust, and certainly not malignance. It went over a line that should not be crossed—a third line, which should never be crossed. It was a pure offering, gushing forth from every corner of Fiel’s heart.
Knowing now that it would not easily break, Chlammy gripped her soul firmly and thought. Ah, she had known all along… He had only been lying about the true nature of her soul… In other words…
…what is it that makes boobs real?
…If it was true that any fat or air she could stuff in them would just be pads—fake boobs—then what was contained in real boob? Authentic big boobs? What was it that her small boobs lacked, for which even conceptual stuffing could not compensate? It was simple. Even Sora had never said you couldn’t get big boobs. Rather, he had declared without compunction that if you only took his medicine every day, you too could have big boobs. You could. You could have big boobs. Big, fake boobs. If you weren’t to take pride in that—
“—This humble chest of mine…is filled with my soul…!”
Indeed…her boobs were a vessel for her very self: Her dreams. Her ambitions. Her journey, as she struggled in the pursuit of the ultimate boobs. Her will, and her pride—!! Chlammy bellowed it without reserve, and Fi nodded with a bright and shining smile. Yes—by now…even Chlammy could see. When the conceptual rewriter—when the “big boob essence” had given everyone big boobs…
…what had made Sora rage so fiercely…
…was simply—
“How dare you alter my Chlammy without permission and then call her fake…”
—What would they do? It was simple—defined by their mutual vortex of feeling.
They weren’t going to kill him. Why would they kill him? They needed him alive.
“… Why, if you’ve no awareness of the crime you’ve committed…we shall have to teach you…”
What he needed was not death. It was understanding .
“…Then you’ll learn just what you’ve meddled with—and repeeent .”
—Get on your knees and apologize. You hear me? Do it, bitch.—
So the overwhelming form exhorted Veig. He still couldn’t grasp its meaning.
But when the golem turned red as the light bent from the vast number of spirits—an amount greater than Fiel’s own—Veig merely had a hunch he should lower his stance—
« …Ho there, looks like I ain’t gonna be able to make it in a minute… Sorry, I’ll be late. »
—and he gave Sora and Shiro a heads-up. His intuition told him he’d better respond with all his spirits as well, so he poised himself at full attention.
Ah… One race unrivaled in seal rites, another in spirit arms: the Dwarf, Veig Drauvnir, indeed a peerless talent, the greatest of his age—but let it not be forgotten who was unrivaled in compilation of sophisticated rites. The Elf, Fiel Nirvalen, likewise. Though she might not stand at the top, she was one of the few who could stand as his foe.
Two machines facing each other in a vortex of spirits and pleasure. Staking their fates, their cards, their blood—staking that which lay deep in their souls—they stood poised for battle. In fulfillment of distant vows from long ago, destruction raged like a storm, under the protection of the Covenants.
Meanwhile, apart from that barrel-blazing dystopia, Sora’s consciousness floated, singing the praises of love and peace, in utopia.
Ah…they all called him: Shiro, Til, Jibril, Emir-Eins, and Steph of course, and even Izuna and Holou. They bashfully begged him to massage their plump breasts. Yes…in this indisputable utopia, the ample-bosomed beauties all asked him in the same sweet whisper:
Oh, what more do you want?
More? What more could I ask? he answered without a moment’s hesitation.
Enveloped in titular bliss, he knew he had everything… For a great chest is a great thing. It should go without saying. It felt good to squeeze. It was erotically appealing—such basic, self-evident truths did not merit discussion. Who would not clutch his head to ask, Why is chocolate delicious? and be answered, Because it’s sweet ? Do you then assert that dark chocolate is not delicious? If all you want is sweetness, then go eat some sugar. If one were to ask where lay the appeal of large bosoms and insist on one simple answer, Sora’s would be this: It lay in their symbolism. Indeed, big boobs are symbolic… To be frank: Don’t they give you the sense that you could squeeze them and get away with it ? To gird this theory, let us imagine what sorts of onomatopoeia we might use to describe the act of squeezing large breasts.
—Bwoing. Jiggle. Floof. Listen to your intuition: No harm no foul, right?
Now let us imagine the sorts of onomatopoeia we might use for small breasts.
—Boop. Plink. Bwip. Have you any doubt that this is a crime?
Therefore: What more could he ask for?! Embraced by a legion of voluptuous beauties, Sora was sure: I mean—I’ll say this once and say it again…I love…boobs……?
………
“ Eeyaagh?! Uh, huh-wha…?! Wh-what was that? I’ve no idea, I’ve nottt!”
Sora was roughly brought back to reality by the shock that abruptly shook the whole stage. To be more precise, it was Til—to be yet more plain, Til’s almost stark-naked abdomen —her highly elastic tummy slapping against his back that brought Sora back at the speed of sound—
“—Whoaaaaaa?! Hey—shhhiiiiiiiiit!!!”
—as the curved blades came at similar speeds. He just barely managed to dodge that one that had grazed him. And— shit —he clucked as its path curved above his head.
Veig’s parting gifts turned in the air like boomerangs to attack him. It was as if they had some homing ability. They were easier to deal with than Veig himself, but—
“…Ah…if I had, big boobs…and it was an accident—then you could get away with it…with me…”
Shiro mumbled, her eyes bereft of light. Her joystick looked like it was about to break into pieces. You could see what that little scratch had done to her. She asked as if in a trance:
“…I’ll pretend not to like it, okay? Brother…are you that against…big-boobed Shiro…?”
Sora could see ever clearer that if they took a direct hit, her core—her heart would break. He held her on his lap and did his best to speak gently.
“Shiro. I’ll tell you once and tell you again… Your brother loves you no matter how you look.”
Shiro was still caught in the illusion. Her cheeks flushed. Yet Sora continued:
“But if we submit to Veig’s way of thinking, I’ll end up rejecting any Shiro that isn’t big boobed !!”
“ ? Uh . Wha…? …Uh, ee…eegh?!”
That knocked her to her senses. White-faced, struggling against despair, she took hold of her joystick once more.
That’s right… A big-boobed Shiro? Truth be told, he had no problem with that. She was fundamentally a perfect, flawless beauty. The materials were just too good; it was obvious. But that son of a bitch. He messed with Shiro based on his own shit taste. And on top of that, he called everyone without big boobs fake. And he rejected all that had come before, the past and the present—
—Veig had rejected his actual sister.
He’d rejected Shiro in her entirety ? !!!
Who the hell was going to break? Not me! Not until I make you understand who’s got the shit taste, asshole!! The Gatling gun and the siblings flared at another blade curving at them.
“…I—I…can’t take…any more, I can’t…!”
But amidst the roar of their muzzle as they took the blade down, even more than Sora and Shiro—
“…The unit, my hammer, and I are at their limits, they are…”
—the unit, the hammer, and Til whined together that they were about to break.
…To begin with, it was a miracle that their mech even worked. It wouldn’t have been surprising for it to break down at any time, or even to explode right at the start.
“…I knew it, you two flew, you did… You were birds, you were…”
But Til sounded even closer to breaking, having already broken into tears.
“If you only had a better machine, you could have…won…even…against the chieftain—”
And she went on: There never was a place for junk like me…
But.
Boom…
The boom of their Gatling gun as it took down another blade, along with the explosion of their left arm, drowning her out.
“Ha-haa! Six left!! …Uh, sorry, Til, I wasn’t listening. What did you say?!”
“…She said…it’s her fault, you…became, a big-boobs fascist…”
“The hell?! How could that be? Her tummy just totally made me into a loli—ow!”
Sora goofed around, and Shiro elbowed him. Their grins implied…
…that they hadn’t heard her. Til’s eyes lolled about.
“Hey, Til, you overworked?! Humans can’t fly, you know?! We’re cheating, that’s all it is. We’re cheating!!”
Indeed, in the first place, they were mere humans, mere weaklings—mere cheaters. You could dress it up with words like ingenuity , but:
“Even if an airplane flies, it’s not a human, but an airplane that’s flying, you know?!”
“…And… we’re not even, the ones …who built—the airplanes, you know…?!”
.
What made Til gasp? Was it the sound suggesting that the Gatling gun in their right arm which had felled the blade was about to break? Or was it a recognition of the irony in the savage sneers of Sora and Shiro?
Indeed, these were the black arts of the weak, those who had to resort to such measures to win. The numerous tricks Sora and Shiro had shuffled out to compete with Veig—their strategies, their tactics; mathematical prediction, informed inducement, far-ranging academic disciplines and theoretical frameworks—all of it.
“All we’re doing is patching together stuff we’ve borrowed from others !!”
The proud weak, the lovable fools—humans had endlessly maintained a way of life antithetical to the forging of Dwarves. The human way was a process of failure and error which continued pathetically on and on…while even so going on struggling, flailing in the dark.
Until something just happened to fit together. Until something was born from a mistake —a miraculous byproduct of wandering lost. It was by patching things together that they drove that forward. But still , they cried out—!!
“Still, that’s not enough to win—so…!”
“…Gotta, collect, more…!”
The limited legacy of Dwarf. The stubborn theory of Elf. And—
Til’s eyes opened wide.
What was reflected in those pale blue eyes, most likely, was the ultimate despair engendered by five curved blades. Their silver traces carved the air, coming at them faster than sound, their trajectories fatal. The Gatling gun and the right arm that held it were smashed up. Their frame was on its last legs, unlikely to be able to make it through another demi-shift. But that was why , Sora and Shiro savagely sneered. They were echoed by a roaring explosion. The next moment—
“We’re flying on the wings we borrowed from your way of life .”
“ ? Ah …”
…Til gaped again at the frame that soared high into the sky, and at Sora’s laugh—but a feeling different from that of a moment ago coursed through the catalysts.
—It’ll go out of control and blow up? Excellent— blow it the hell up .
The explosion of their legs propelled them so now they were way up looking down at those five blades. Her feeling was directed toward those two, who aligned their sights with those blades, and toward herself, who looked to the high, blue sky within that cockpit…
She looked up with confusion, worry, and even resignation.
High and blue… It was the sky…
The mountain of failure and error she’d piled up from the things she’d found haphazardly, not even knowing what value they had…
It all came together as if someone had made a mistake. She’d seen that sky as a child, and then it had gone from her—and now here she was. The heights she’d never even imagined …the place she’d longed for. Now—the three of them together had leaped there —at last Til realized.
“Come on… How long are you going to hold back?”
Sora pulled up the corners of his mouth and howled at Til over the roar of his fire piercing the blades below.
“ ? Smile !!!
“Isn’t this the ultimate moment you thought you’d only see in your dreams?! Here you are in the sky!! Beyond the limits you thought imaginable—so how does it feel?!”
……Gasp… Til chuckled ambiguously as the machine fell ?
And then, the clunky mech, reduced to an immobile heap of metal by the devastation of its limbs, collapsed onto the ground.
« ……Hff… Oh, good God! Ah well, I suppose we’ve had our fun! »
Chlammy’s surly tone came through the comm system of the once-humanoid machine that was now a pile of scrap.
« Go do as you like, as per the deal !! Waaah! Fiii, I can’t staaand iiit! »
…Ha-ha… Looks like Chlammy and Fiel really hung in there, too… Sora and Shiro smirked together in the cockpit.
“Yeah… I’d say we’ve had our fun, too. Didn’t think we’d make it this far. ? ”
“…Mm… Now…from here, on…it’s, your turn to play…Til. ? ”
“…………Uh. Um? I… What?”
They turned to Til as if handing off a controller. She looked back blankly.
“ We can’t beat this. Doesn’t matter what kind of machine we have… We just can’t.”
“…We can’t… answer the question … We can’t… settle our past …”
For a moment, they looked down as they spoke. But only for a moment. Then they gazed into Til’s eyes with smiles of heartfelt fun… Yes, they looked into those pale blue eyes, which were hotter than red-hot yet had been quivering with naked fragility. The fire that had smoldered, I won’t accept it , and, I won’t give in …rebelling passively . The eyes at last lit with a will that could no longer be shaken… I want to win —
“But, Til—I think, now , you can answer. Right?”
“…Til… why did you run …?”
“ ? !”
Yes…the third person at whom Veig’s question was directed, the main heroine—his niece, Til. She could do it, they said. But Til peered back into Sora’s eyes as if trying to determine the truth behind his words.
“Hey. Even if you build an airplane to fly, that doesn’t make you a bird.”
—Sora, the dark sky , spoke back.
“But birds don’t build airplanes… Why do you think that is?”
—The sky of a color higher than blue, from beyond the greatest heights, smirked back.
“FYI, there are things you can only see when you’re lower than anyone.”
“…Let’s blast off…so high…together, higher than the birds . ? ”
They invited her where she’d begged to go.
—Til looked down and grinned.
“Heh, heh-heh-heh. Heh, I say. Excellent, then, leave it to meee!!”
—If it was a place reachable only by the most inferior—
“There’s no spirit-arm artisan worse than me in the worrrld, there’s not!!”
—then no one but she could get there!! She shouted forth her zeal and her thirst, and the absolute truth—namely!
“For I ? am as smooth as a dolphin, I aaam!!!”
“Hey, okay, I sort of get it, but just let me say this: You are talking about beards , right?!”
Sora cried out just to make sure, but he was no longer in the scope of Til’s concern… Seeming as unstoppable as a fired arrow, Til violently kicked open a hatch of the cockpit and flew out.
With blinding speed, she started fixing her cracked hammer…
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