No Game No Life - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 
DISCLOSURE 
 
On the island of Kannagari, capital of the Eastern Union, nestled away, lay the Chinkai Tandai District. In a fifty-story CTD skyscraper, ten stories belowground, there was, contrary to public reports, a floor one story lower: the eleventh floor. The sprawling hall held a national secret of the Eastern Union, their trump card against other races: a game. It was a VR machine located deep in a vast subterranean hall—or it was supposed to be, at least. That dark underground chamber, which should have been filled with equipment, was now— 
“What’s thiiis? I knew you were pathetiiic, but you just go plummeting beneath my expectatiooons. ? ” 
—occupied by a Dhampir dancing airily. In a broken scene, a patchwork of morning and night, of heaven and earth, of here and there, Plum smiled seductively (despite being male). 
“Oh…perhaps it’s just that I’m too powerfulll? Eh-heh-hehhh, sorry about thaaat.” 
With each of his deliberate steps, the broken scene transformed boundlessly. 
“—I hear a fly buzzing about… Why, that sound is intolerable.” 
Facing Plum, Fiel’s smile grew wider and more murderous. Each time the scene changed, everything changed, down to the flowing spirits; the very spirits with which Fiel attempted to weave a rite—compile a spell—vanished like mist. It was almost like—no, it probably was exactly like—Fiel was trying to weave with threads that mocked her for thinking they were ever there. 
“If you ask me, it’s high time—we restored some silence—to this place!!” she cried in a rage as the gem in her forehead flashed. Light traced a geometric figure through her body and discharged throughout the space. It shattered Plum’s magic (which had disguised the scene), the space, the spirits, and restored the gadget-filled hall. 
A four-thread rite “omit cast.” A spell launched instantly, virtually bypassing compilation—a feat of extreme difficulty for even the finest of Elf’s mages. It was with this that Fiel smashed through the spiritual deception, while with two more threads in parallel, she rushed to compile the rite she was after. 
She was after her rite to beat the game, her rite of hacking, designed for the Eastern Union VR system. If she could just compile that one rite—and launch it once—the game would be theirs. Chlammy’s victory against Ino Hatsuse would be assured. Fiel Nirvalen, rare among Elves as a hexcaster, was putting all her resources into this parallel compilation. Despite the extreme complexity of the rite, it wrapped up in seconds, and— 
“Oh, don’t tell me, don’t tell me… You’re going easy on meee?!” 
“—Wha…?!” 
But that laugh, which lied that seconds were an eternity, made Fiel’s thoughts cloud over. The scene had once more been the underground hall, but now, far from underground, they were high in the sky, plunging… 
“I thank you for your kindnesss. But please don’t worry about my feelings! Let’s see what you really have to offerrr. ?” 
As she watched Plum descend with them, merrily beating his little wings, Fiel gasped in astonishment. 
—Impossible! He’d recompiled and redeployed the magic she’d dispelled faster than she could cast? His casting speed transcended Elf? It couldn’t be…… But Plum had been waiting for her to get there. 
“Did you fiiinally figure it ouuut? Your memory, too, is so breathtakingly pathetic! ? ” 
The comment came not from the Dhampir before her— 
“Let’s think back carrrefully! I believe I told you—this!!” 
—but from what she touched with her fingers—her own mouth. She realized this only as—snap—the scene shattered again. 
“‘Please believe that you will be able to use at least one spell against meee!!’” 
Still in a patchwork space of indeterminate location, Plum recounted. 
“‘That will make crowing over you as you waken to reality even more enjoyyyable!’ And nowww…” 
Fiel’s fists trembled in anger when she saw him reclining on a sofa, sipping tea. 
“How many spells have you caaast? The answer, for your information, is zerooo! Ah-ha-haaa! ? ” 
She hadn’t even pulled off the omit cast. He’d made her think she had. Plum had the enraged Fiel twisted around his finger like a baby, and— 
“Oh, Mr. Inooo? It’s time I gave you some new target dataaa!” 
In the game—the one persistent image within that swirling madness— 
“Very well, Sir Plum! I trust it will serve me well!!” 
“Hey, Fi?! These assholes are blatantly announcing they’re interfering with the game!” 
—Ino received data from Plum as Chlammy protested. 
“…Interfering? Why, I can’t demonstrate the presence of a rite…!” 
“Ah-ha-haaa, it breaks my heaaart. I can scarcely hold back tears watching your futile toiiil! ?” 
…… 
Outside the game, Plum and Fiel were engaged in an unhinged magical battle. Inside the game, Ino and Chlammy were engaged in…what one might call an unhinged physical battle. 
“Die, Soraaa!” “I’ll smash you into pieces, you monkey bastard!” Their voices volleyed back and forth as NPCs that looked like Sora flew through the air, one after the other. Meanwhile, watching this spectacle unfold— 
“Hey, what do they think they’re doing to my daaarling?! What’s going on?!” 
—and furiously making a ruckus in her water bowl was the queen of Siren, Laila. Somehow managing to force a strained smile was a redheaded girl— 
—Stephanie Dola. What was going on? Laila asked. Steph answered the question in her head: It all started seven hours ago… 
 
It was when the island of Kannagari was flickering under the roaring shock from the Old Deus’s game board. Laila had popped out of the bulky backpack, along with a splash of water, but everyone instead gaped at the figure delivering—well, carrying her, we should say. No wonder the bag had looked so heavy. But wasn’t she still supposed to be in the Old Deus’s game—? 
“Pant… Pant… I relied too much…on the Eastern Union’s infrastructure…its power…” 
A red-haired Immanity girl sank to the floor in exhaustion. 
“—M-Miss Stephanie—! Why are you here?!” 
“P-pardon?! I’ve merely brought over Miss Laila and a letter!” Steph snapped back, misinterpreting Ino’s outburst as censure. 
“A l-letter, you say?” 
“Y-yes… The King and Queen of Elkia… I mean, Sora and Shiro— Eek!” 
“Yesssss! My daaarling!!! Hey, are you just gonna ignore me?! The only one allowed to humiliate me is my beloved daaarling… Oh… Oh, goodness, my heart… It hurts…” 
Laila noisily interrupted Steph with a few good slaps of her tail only to swiftly grow weaker—and smile brightly. “……Oh… Is this—? Surely this is what they call…love…?” 
“Gyaaaaaah—! Ah, no, that’s not iiit! You’re just out of water and dyiiing!!” Plum shrieked to see Laila, a Siren, incapable of living without water, had spilled the water from the bag as she leaped out and now looked to be on the verge of passing on, dying with a peaceful smile… 
A moment later. 
“Y-Your Majesty, wh-what do you think will happen to us if you d-diiie?!” 
Out of nowhere—skipping the intermediate process—Plum put Laila back in a bowl as he wailed. Despite his spectral state and unlimited access to his magic, Plum was exhausted. Only Fiel understood: He must have disguised time to keep it still as he desperately hunted for a bowl of water and carried it over. She shot him an icy glare. But Ino couldn’t have known this. No—Ino didn’t give a shit and roared in confusion. 
“M-Miss Stephanie, weren’t you over there—in the game of the Old Deus?!” 
Then who the hell was that—or was this…?! 
“Oh, you werrre the fake. Phew… I was scared out of my wiiits…” 
“—The…fake?” Ino howled, but Plum answered casually. 
“Oh, but of couuurse, a traitor who hadn’t lost their memories? That’s impooossible.” 
Impossible. Ino mulled over Plum’s strident declaration. Back in the bath, Sora had been saying something about impossible lengths for a cheap trick… 
“For one alone to get aheaaad, holding on to memories no one else possesses, would anyone agree to thaaat? Nooo one woullld… I know IIII wouldn’t. So then, it’s simpllle. ?” 
00b: 
—Among the die-bearers is one traitor whose memory hath not been collected. 

A traitor whose memory…hath not been collected… 
“You can’t collect a memory that was never there to begin with, can youuu? ?” 
So she was a fake—a fabrication of the Old Deus. Ino wondered: If the Steph up there was a fake, then why would Sora and Shiro—? 
“I meaaan, look at it… Even if you count King Sora and Queen Shiro as one, that still makes six players in total. There are only five Race Pieces—so one of them wouldn’t logically be playing, would theyyy?” 
But— Plum continued, cutting Ino’s thoughts short. 
…………Wait. 
“So at least one who shouldn’t be there was theeere… Personally, I figured it must be Miss Stephanie or Miss Izunaaa… Wasn’t sure which ooone. ?” 
—Wait. Wait, wait—wait! 
What was this son of a bitch…? What was Plum saying? 
Race Pieces? 
“…Wait, what are you…? Y-you couldn’t mean…” 
Now then, calm down, Ino told himself. He asked, his voice trembling, “…th-that the players—must each wager Race Pieces?” 
Tell me it’s not so. Tell me I’ve misunderstood, he prayed in vain. 
“Oh, is that not so? That’s what Sora told me. That’s why I brought this letter—” 
Steph’s quizzical answer made Ino reel. 
…Ha-ha-ha… Wait just one moment, now. Don’t be ridiculous. That couldn’t be, certainly not, not in this world. It must be a joke or, failing that, a dream. Ino’s head—well, technically, as a specter, he didn’t have a head—managed to withstand the phantom pain, and he persisted. 
“W-well, now… If you could please pause for a moment. Even given these premises, wouldn’t they be one Race Piece short?” 
It was true the players were all VIPs of their respective races. 
Sora and Shiro of Immanity could bet The Immanity Piece. 
Plum of Dhampir could bet the Dhampir Piece. 
Let’s say Jibril, a Flügel councilor, could bet the Flügel Piece. 
The Holy Shrine Maiden, agent plenipotentiary of Werebeast, could bet The Werebeast Piece. Suppose either Ino or Izuna had been entrusted with it. 
Stephanie— All right, she had to have been a fake. 
But, then, still—we were talking about Ino or Izuna! Even if you counted Sora and Shiro as one person and discounted Steph, there were still five players and four Race Pieces… It didn’t add up!! 
As Ino refused to face the harsh reality, he was interrupted by an incessantly cheery voice. Under normal circumstances, someone speaking with such intoxicating allure would have been enough to enrapture him. 
“Oh, oh, guess what! My beloved darling said he’d step on me if I lent him the Siren Piece! ? He called me an ‘important trump card’! Squeeee! ? ? ” 
But under these circumstances, it elicited only rage and cut him off mercilessly. 
“So where’s my darling?! He promised he’d step on me and kick me and tie me up—” 
Well, then. Ino nodded and accepted reality. 
The bimbo plenipotentiary of Siren could bet…the Siren Piece. 
Ino’s eyes went dead, and everyone looked at him…with pity. 
“…What’s the poiiint of the Old Deus taking our liiives?” 
“…Seriously? You really didn’t see it?” 
“Why, Chlammy, you mustn’t expect too much of the big ol’ puppy dog. Don’t be mean! ?” 
Chlammy then repeated the condition she and Fiel had set down. 
“…We demanded all the territory of the Eastern Union and everything on it, didn’t we?” 
Indeed. “All the territory of the Eastern Union and all the personnel and resources in it.” 
“Even if Sora’s bunch loses, they’ll become Fi’s property. So even if she takes our Pieces… We have insurance, see?” 
In other words, if somehow they all lost, then their five Race Pieces would be lost. But in that worst-case scenario, Fiel, whose Race Piece would not be lost, would still secure everything in the Eastern Union—including personnel. 
“…Well, of course our main goal was to win and teach those jerks a lesson. However…” 
They also could prepare for a comeback from the far-removed prospect of disaster, she added. Meanwhile— 
“…Uh, um… Mr. Ino…?” 
As if Plum, Chlammy, and Fiel were not enough… 
“Did you…really not think we put in enough for the Old Deus to play?” 
!!! 
As if to illustrate Ino’s state of mind, a shock that rattled heaven and earth once again took out the lights, casting darkness over Kannagari. 
…Even Miss Stephanie was embarrassed for him. An indescribable mental shock made Ino feel as if his soul would melt away any moment. 
“Oh, cooome. There’s no need to fuss over details like thaaat. ? ” 
But no one paid much mind to the fluorescent meathead, who began fading like a dying glow stick. 
“Now you see why we need to hurry up and take the Eastern Union… When will these accursed shocks stop—? Hey, Fi?! Are you drunk again?!” 
“Whuuut? Why, Chlammy, you’re quite small-minded, toooo… I’m not drunk! ? ” 
“—‘Too’?! What do you mean, ‘too’? Small-minded and small-what-else? Why don’t you say it?!” 
“Huhhh? Obviously she means small-chested, Miss Board. ? Tee-hee! ?” 
“You wanna talk boards? I’ll throw you onto the chopping board and make a fillet out of you, fish-girl! What kind of moron would give up her Race Piece to get stepped on? You should feed your brain before you feed your ches— Come to think of it, Stephanie Dola!” 
Tears in her eyes, Chlammy screamed at Fiel and Laila, possessors of racks that brooked no argument. 
Then she turned her glare to a fellow member of the unfairly endowed class. 
“What are you even here for?! Did you just come to flauuuunt it like these bitches?! Do you only care about your boobs?! Is it so wrong to live modestly? Is it a sin?!” 
Steph screamed back, at the latest victim of Chlammy’s indiscriminate rage. “I said I came to deliver a letter! Won’t anyone listen to me?!” 
…But no one seemed interested enough to do so. Steph looked up at the ceiling as a single tear rolled down her cheek. 
Nope, no one was listening. Ino, for his part, wasn’t ready to listen to anything. The sound didn’t even enter his ears; he was about to dissolve into ash—or rather, ectoplasm, the spectral meathead. As he gazed out the window at the coiled sky, he became lost in thought. 
…So all the players in that game had not merely bet their lives. They’d put their entire races—and their fates—on the table…? Though their memories might have been erased, they’d all agreed, even the Holy Shrine Maiden and Ino himself. Why? How could everyone—how could he—take that kind of risk?! 
Ah… Holy Shrine Maiden. You had faith in Sora and Shiro, faith that they would betray each other and win. All without a single sacrifice… Ino had thought he’d had faith in the Holy Shrine Maiden’s convictions. Yet all it had come to was killing—not just that, but destruction, this spectacle of doom. O Holy Shrine Maiden, what did those siblings see, what did they plan when they bet our Race Pieces? Where is the plot? Where is the scenario in which no one will be sacrificed? 
And then someone answered Ino’s silent plea. 
“……Oh, forget it. I’m just going to read the letter, all right?!” 
This was by no means according to the plan of the resigned reader… 
“I shall follow the script Sora has set for me—a-all right? These are not my words, all right?!” 
…but exactly according to the plan of those speaking through her. 
“My dear muscle-bound abomination and all you fine n00bs.” 
. 
Steph read—no, was forced to read—that opener. It was enough to cast a pall of silence over the boisterous scene as Ino’s thoughts were brought back from beyond. Amidst a torrent of piercing gazes, Steph braved on. 
“If Chlammy and Fiel lose, Blank will humbly accept the pot.” 
“What? …Wh-what the hell is she—?” 
“Oh dear… Why? Is she going to cherry-pick all the best parts?” 
The second line. Chlammy listened suspiciously; Fiel was still drunk. The pot: one state of Elven Gard, their persons, the rite of hacking, etc., etc.—all that had just been bait. The one who had exploited it to close off their escape had been Plum. And Plum, who now held the reins in this game, would hardly accept such— 
—or so Ino thought, but the recitation continued, snatching away Plum’s reins. 
“And to Chlammy and Fiel’s demands: we’re adding Laila, so be good to her!” 
“Ohhh, Darling, I would do anything for youuu! ? I swear by the Covenants!!” 
“—Hey… Um— Wh-whaaaaat?!” 
The third line. Laila listened with hearts in her eyes while Plum wailed and Ino remained fixedly silent. Plum had been in charge precisely because he didn’t care if Ino lost. But now if that happened, if Laila was taken—Dhampir had the noose around their necks… 
“So now, if Ino loses, there’s about one little d00d whose race’s fate is gonna hang in the balance—” 
Everyone listened to the fourth sentence quietly, as if in a trance. Yes…that one little tweak was enough to reverse Plum’s position completely. Ino could just say, “Who needs Plum’s help?! I’ll kick your asses by myself.” 
“As such, you can laugh off his pathetic demands. Work his ass for free! ? ” 
And Plum would have no choice, even if all his demands were rejected. He had to ensure Ino won. Even if Chlammy and Fiel refused, he’d have to cut off their escape, just as he’d originally planned. And so……silence. The collective silence answered Ino’s questions. Whose plot was this? Where was the scenario in which no one would be sacrificed? 
It was their plot. That scenario was right here, right now. 
They’d sent Laila along with a little message. That was all. It was enough to sweep aside everyone else’s plans, exploit them, and block their exit. It was unbelievable, enough to give them all chills. Everyone was silent. And so the siblings—through their speaker—continued. 
“A-and then… Ummm! Before I read the last part, there’s this.” 
In the darkness of the blacked-out reception chamber, no one could see the others’ expressions. Only silence, wordless, heavy, weighed over the suffocating space. 
“It’s an appeal addressed to Miss Chlammy and Miss Fiel… They say the rest of you can read it as well.” 
Steph mustered up every bit of courage—and finally held it out. 
“……” 
Fiel shone a light, which illuminated Chlammy’s creepily insipid face as well as the equally creepy object that Steph proffered: a tube. Decked in snakeskin, decorated tastefully, yet sufficiently for anyone to recognize its dignity, it was clearly the work of a master. When the official-looking tube was opened, inside—was a slip of paper. Chlammy and Fiel peered inside using the light, as did Ino and Plum. It was a formal diplomatic document. 
It bore the seal of the Commonwealth of Elkia as well as that of the Kingdom of Elkia. It even included the signatures of Their Majesties the King and Queen of Elkia. A proper national missive. 
The handwriting was orderly, as magnificent as could be. And it read…as follows… 

My dear friends Miss Chlammy Zell and Miss Fiel Nirvalen: 
We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your trouble in wending all this way from a distant land when surely you must be pressed for time. We cannot but appreciate the immense effort and struggle it must have taken to prepare for this assault in such a brief period. Though it may be presumptuous, even impertinent, we are compelled to use these words to express our wish for continued deep friendship and our boundless appreciation— 
Suckahhhz! LOL 
With love, 
Sora and Shiro 
The 205th Monarch of the Kingdom of Elkia 

Steph then fulfilled her duty by reading aloud the end of the letter: 
“I knew you’d all betray us. Love you guys!” 
“…Good job, everyone… Or, as we say—GG! ? ” 
A hush enveloped the world. Contrasted with a stillness as if time had forgotten to flow, the glow of dawn peeked through the long night. The world slowly brightened. Ah, daybreak… It was a long, long time coming. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the roaring of waves reverberated throughout the chamber. 
“……How elegant…hee-hee.” 
Steph whispered, beaming madly, despite the persistent muteness of all present. Ino chuckled as Steph reached enlightenment—or rather, resignation—and came to a greater understanding of the situation at hand. 
In summary…it had been a whole load of nothing. Just like Plum, Sora and Shiro had read ahead to a certain extent about the game with the Old Deus before their memories were erased. And they’d had faith in everyone—in their betrayal, their mistrust—beyond a shadow of a doubt. While the Shrine Maiden had trusted that Sora and Shiro would certainly, better than anyone else, by means conceivable only to filthy, repulsive, twisted, broken lowlifes such as themselves, so grossly defective in personality and deplorable in both mind and face— 
—succeed in betraying and beguiling everyone to win. 
The Shrine Maiden had believed it. They themselves had believed it. Even Ino must have believed it. And so it was. That was all there was to it—a magnificent performance indeed. 
“—Well, then.” 
The two had betrayed and used them so thoroughly that it was somehow refreshing. Like everyone else, Ino squinted toward the rising sun as it started to flush the sky and thought: 
That said, when it actually happens to you, it’s annoying as hell, you monkey bastards. 
“Let us proceed with the game. I propose that we play Love or Loved 2. Have you no objection?” 
Ino started walking with a cheerful smile on his face, and everyone else likewise proceeded with equally cheerful grins. 
“No, that’s fine. But by the way, Mr. Ino, may I make a request?” 
Everyone, questioner and questioned alike, kept smiling, but— 
“Could we change the NPCs to resemble Sora? And as realistically as possible?” 
“Why, I concur. I, too, would like to make such a request. ?” 
“Oh, me too! I’d be delighted to see you blow him to smithereens! ?” 
—behind their smiles, the four of them shared a rage that roiled within. Yes. 
“Ha-ha-ha, that is no trouble at all. The game has stored specs on Sora from his last play, and from that, we can build a perfect avatar. But it would hardly be interesting if he were to perish too quickly, so let us set his endurance to the maximum value!” 
Yes, we are friends. We were allies all along. 
“Excuuuse me, Mr. Ino. I swear on my race we shall win this game, buuut…” 
“Prince Plum, please be assured that no words are necessary between comrades in arms such as ourselves.” 
Yes, now that they had gained a common enemy— 
“I pledge to devote all the strength of my nation to hang King Sora up by his feet and smash him.” 
—the comrades in arms walked off together as Steph and Laila saw them off. 
 
Thus, at last the shocks from the Old Deus’s game board subsided, and the VR battle began. On that urban battleground where the continental domain and the Immanity Piece were once contested, this time the Eastern Union and a state of Elven Gard were up for grabs. Sora’s personal data from his last login was combined with Chlammy’s memory to simulate him as realistically as possible—in the form of a teeming throng of NPCs. 
—Perhaps this was a mistake, Ino Hatsuse thought as he ground his teeth. Having long been away from the front lines, it was no surprise he’d lost his edge, but this—! 
“Hey, old fart—I mean, man among men…” 
Behind him! To think an NPC with Immanity specs could catch him unawares… 
That’s what he got for using Sora’s personal data to spin up a lifelike representation. Just like the real thing, the nonplayer Soras read his movements to appear everywhere he didn’t expect. Ino clucked his tongue and spun his barrel around with lightning speed to spy… 
“…Wh-what do you think…? I wanted to look like you even just a little bit. Does it look good on me?” 
“?Damn you!!” 
There stood Sora, squirming and blushing with love in his eyes—in a loincloth. But the next instant, Ino’s fist moved with quantum quickness to deny his eyes from taking it in. That thing soared tens of meters like a cannonball and smashed into a building across the main road. That thing had eaten Ino’s fist, the boom from which, having transcended the sound barrier, was heard about the same time. 
“…Dear me, I did it again… I must be more careful…” 
In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten his Lovey-Dovey Gun—and launched his fist of justice, bound to purge all the evils of this world. 
Touching an NPC decreased your Love Power. This being a one-on-one battle against Chlammy, running out of Love Power would spell defeat. Though the contact had been brief, Ino ran in panic at the attenuation of his Love Power. He went to find the NPC Sora, now stuck in the wall like a stake, and pull the trigger to finish him (in a nonviolent sense, of course) and regain some energy. Ino leaped out into the street— 
“Hey, you!! I never said you had to go that far!!” 
—only to be greeted by Chlammy, screaming as she relentlessly fired at the raging Sora hordes. 
The rules of the game, of course, had not changed. It hardly bears saying that if Chlammy hit Ino once or Ino hit Chlammy, the game would be settled. And in a one-on-one battle between an Immanity and their Werebeast, it was a given who would win—and yet— 
“O—M—G! Look at that! It’s Ino! Squee! ?” 
“I can’t believe you guys! Weren’t we chasing Chlammy? What kind of sluts are you?!” 
“What? It’s not like either of them have boobs! Go for the pecs, duh!” 
Each and every Sora NPC—Sora A, Sora B, Sora C, and many others—caused quite a ruckus, all the while dressed in all sorts of outfits, from skirts to culottes to shorts. A rich variety of costumes, all designed for ladies. 
—Just then, a whirlwind and a crash rushed past Chlammy, a storm she herself couldn’t even fathom. 
“…Indeed, it is quite difficult not to punch them in this state… This was, after all, a mistake,” Ino groaned remorsefully as the Soras stuck into the ground and walls and soared through the air. But he smiled in inverse proportion as he shot them, blowing them away. Chlammy glared at him as she yelled, “And you didn’t really have to give them these actions and costumes, did you?!” 
“I grieve to inform you, Miss Chlammy, that those are entirely the choices of the NPCs’ artificial intelligence.” 
Yes, even the AI had been made as realistic as possible. In other words, even as a software simulation, Sora could not help but troll them. 
And Ino could not help but punch him. 
“Mr. Inooo, there’s [secret]! Kill them, kill them all— I mean, take them ouuut!” 
To those outside the game, it sounded like Plum had said “secret.” Ino, however, heard “twelve Soras, eight o’clock, distance six hundred.” 
“Heh, this will make sixty-four Soras. I leave the outside to you, Sir!!” 
“Leave it to meee! Let’s make this as big and bad as we can! It’s so gooood!” 
Ino ran off, accompanied by a shock wave, as Chlammy shouted, “Fi! I’ve still only got twenty-four Soras! How can I catch up?!” 
“…I’m, just…trying to do something…! Just a bit more—” 
At some point, this game had turned into a contest to see who could take out the most Soras. And it was only natural, Chlammy admitted, biting her nails. 
Plum was so confident he couldn’t lose to Fiel, instead of finishing the game with a snap as he very well could, he chose to enjoy whaling on Sora first. Ino went along with it, buoyed by his trust in Plum. Chlammy couldn’t ask for more; it would give Fiel more time to get her rite through. All Chlammy could do, meanwhile, was run. 
“…Honestly… I can’t believe how useless I am…” 
“Yeah… Jeez, Chlammy, you’re such a dumbass.” 
“?!!” 
One of the Soras responded to Chlammy’s self-deprecatory remark as he appeared behind her—but her reaction was a moment too late. Though she swung her gun around, he grabbed the hand holding it and pushed her against the wall. She was now trapped and unable to move, and the NPC continued. “…You drive me crazy. Don’t you realize your own competence and cuteness?” 
“My—what…?” 
Flustered, Chlammy tried to resist, but he plucked up her chin: 
“—You’re just so innocent. Do you really think I’m the only one who’s after you?” 
. 
“…Uh, uh… Wha—what are you…on about…?” 
He’d said all this to Chlammy with a straight face and so close that she could feel his breath, throwing her thoughts into chaos. 

No one had ever called her cute except for Fiel. And to think that, of all people (well, of course she knew he was an NPC), Sora would say it… It made her blush and only furthered her confusion. Help came from outside the game. 
“Why, Chlammy, you’d best kill him now. ? Remove his fingers and toes one by one until he dies. ? ” 
“And what are you on about, Fi?!” 
It came fully armed, in the form of Fiel the ruthless executioner. 
Notwithstanding, Chlammy couldn’t shoot him when she was being held up against the wall. Sure, she was trying to resist, but this avatar of Sora’s had the specs of the real thing, that is, a man’s strength. She couldn’t break loose; she couldn’t overpower him—and that somehow made her heart skip a beat. 
“That silky black hair… That porcelain white skin—” 
Ffp… Chlammy couldn’t help but be entranced by the sensation of him brushing against her skin… 
“Yes. That delicious flat chest is all mine—” 
And suddenly, her jumbled thoughts came back together. He’d just been trolling her. The moment she realized this, she moved like a machine. Stone-cold, unhesitating, and precise, she lifted her knee and thought she heard a cylinder smashing into a set of bearings. Sora writhed and fell over. Chlammy dug her heel into him, regarding him as if he were no more than a stain on the floor. 
“Fi, you concentrate on that rite… I’ll take care of myself…” 
“Why, very well! Chlammy, you hang in theeere!” 
Chlammy, now free of emotional distraction, knew what “hang in there” meant. It meant, Hang in there and murder the shit out of that Sora—which no one needed to tell her. Chlammy, eyes now completely void of light, answered the NPC by directing her muzzle at the thing under her foot. 
“I have two bits of news for you… First, you’re about to die.” 
In the meantime, her Love Power was dwindling, but screw that. 
She fired repeatedly. The bullets tore into and ripped apart one garment after another, leaving Sora stripped naked. She kicked him onto his knees, inviting cheers from Fi and Ino and Plum. 
“Second, how many times do I have to tell you…? They’re not done growing!!!!!!!!!” 
She fired again. Sora disappeared in a blaze of pink, and she turned and thought. 
Plum and Ino couldn’t lose if Laila was on the table. But even if they won, the spoils would fall right into Sora’s and Shiro’s hands; they couldn’t be too eager to wrap it up. 
As for Fiel and Chlammy, the tables had already been turned all the way on them. Their plot to tear Sora and Shiro a new one—to beat them—had already failed. And look how Sora and Shiro had even used Plum, who’d tricked Fiel and Chlammy. The two of them had tried to prepare for the unlikely but dire event of Sora and Shiro’s loss, but what could they do? 
…If those two were going to lose, it was beyond them. 
“So if we can’t win…we might as well let it all out… Heh-heh—” 
Yes, now it was simply a game of four—a two-on-two diversion. Having understood that at last, Chlammy’s smile grew more disturbing. 
“We might as well enjoy ourselves… We’ll kill you all, Sora!!” 
And so the NPCs that looked like Sora sailed into the sky, the ground, the walls—and exploded. 
 
Steph could do nothing but twitch as she observed this ghastly spectacle occurring both in and out of the game. 
“You call this realistic as possible?! How stupid can these people be?! Don’t they know my daaarling ? would never say anything like that? He’d only use the most foul-mouthed insults ever!!” 
Meanwhile Laila, the stupidest of all, complained in her turbid bowl. 
One perhaps couldn’t refute that it was natural, Steph thought. But seeing them each display their malice toward Sora so openly: 
“S-still… A-at least no one has lost… Right?!” 
Despite her fear of this unhinged assemblage, Steph summoned the courage to put forth her opinion, and yet— 
“I wonder! I am losing years off my life to stress at Mach speed!” 
“Look at how I’ve lost all the charisma I managed to buiiild! ?” 
“Why must I endure this physical toil? I feel it’s lost all meaning!” 
“As for me, I feel my pride waning by the minute!” 
The four promptly and roundly rejected it. Even so—no, for that very reason—Steph cracked a smile. 
“But you all…look like you’re having so much fun.” 
. 
“If Sora hadn’t stopped you, I don’t think you’d ever have been able to play with those expressions on your faces.” 
Steph looked down, and then— 
“Miss Stephanie, may I ask just how much you knew?” 
Ino spoke from within the game, and everyone awaited Steph’s answer. 
Steph had been cloned and kept outside the game. How much did she remember? What did she know of the past—or the future? Steph answered: 
“…I don’t remember what happened just before the game, myself.” 
As one might well have guessed. 
They turned their thoughts back to the game. Not even an Old Deus was above the Ten Covenants, which protected the Ixseeds from all injury and violation of rights. It was not possible to view or alter the contents of one’s mind without permission, and unauthorized reproduction was out of the question. So Steph must have agreed to be cloned, right there at the start of the game. And it could reasonably be assumed that her memory had been collected just as theirs. But— 
“I do remember what Sora and Shiro said when we left Elkia.” 
Yes, when Steph had left Elkia with what Sora called his “trump card”—that is, Laila—in her backpack, he and Shiro told her: 
“—‘There will be some haggling over the game’s content’…” 
They hadn’t known exactly what the rules would be, but conversely, it meant the two of them had known the rules to a certain extent. 
“Then they gave me this sheet…and told me to read it when that time comes.” 
Taking out the paper Sora and Shiro had given her—the directive—Steph remembered. Yes, that time, forty-one days earlier. 
Steph had stood alone in the Garden of the Shrine, bemused. Laila must have woken up; Steph could feel her kicking through the backpack. But Steph had no idea why she was here—and realized she must have lost her memory. She rushed to open the piece of paper entrusted to her, and— 
“…I nearly fainted. I am sure you can guess what was written.” 
Steph’s sigh was met with a silent but universal chuckle. They could guess, all right. Everything. Every single thing from these last forty-one days was written there. 
That it would be a game of deceit and betrayal. That their Race Pieces would be demanded as the buy-in. That Plum would betray them, and correspondingly, Fiel and Chlammy would attack. That, therefore, it would be a long game and that it was possible to leave in the middle. That the Shrine Maiden would surely have some trick up her sleeve, and thus, there would be no normal way of winning. Everything. It’s not hard to guess how Steph felt after reading all that. 
“Mad, isn’t it? …Hee-hee…” 
How in the world had she permitted this before she’d lost her memory? Was she just as insane as them? After all— 
“I didn’t know why we should be playing a game of betrayal against each other, in which five races would be doomed if we lost, when someone might die in any case… I didn’t understand any of these things. None of it.” 
She’d been torn with anxiety and bewilderment, when— 
“Then…I remembered what Sora and Shiro had said.” 
Don’t worry. It’ll be okay, Shiro had told her. 
No one’s gonna die, reassured Sora. 
They’d made up their minds. 
“—‘Trust us… Trust that we’ll all betray each other…’” 
But remembering that, in itself, hadn’t told her much. Trust? In betrayal? They couldn’t be serious. And she couldn’t be optimistic. At least someone, at worst all five races, would be sacrificed…she’d thought. Anxious and worried—shaking uncontrollably—day after day, she’d looked up at that sky. From outside the game…all she could do was wait, week after week… 
Yet, among all the things she couldn’t trust in, there was one thing—just one—that she could: her faith in the end of that slip—her orders: 
“Steph, we’re counting on you to stop it all so no one loses.” 
“Don’t let us down, Steph. Sorry, for leaving you out, but…” 
She trusted in their faith in her. 
That was what had brought her this far—but now… 
“—Now, looking at you all, I’m finally able to feel relieved!!” 
Steph shook her head and laughed: 
“You’re all—having fun!” 
Anyone seeing Steph in that moment would be captivated by her smiling face. And yet, that smile harbored just a twinge of loneliness… 
“So now I have faith that the Old Deus’s game will be fun in the end.” 
While Steph spoke so reassuringly, she thought about why she hadn’t been allowed to play. She could guess. 
It had been because they couldn’t trust her to betray them. That…should be something to be proud of. To delight in. But seeing the gamers before her, she felt a little jealous. A little…just a little mad she couldn’t play. 
 
In-game, Ino smirked at Steph’s words. Well, now. Sora’s final message had been honest and true. 
“I knew you’d all betray us. Love you guys!” 
It implied that, without a single sacrifice, he’d trust them all to the end—and take down the God. Now Ino felt he had glimpsed what it was the Holy Shrine Maiden had seen in those two that he himself couldn’t. What she had chosen to believe in. 
“…But that still leaves some questions…” 
Such as, of course, what the Shrine Maiden’s plot was. No, what the true purpose of this game was. There were so many riddles. Ino took on the most inexplicable one of all. 
Why had Sora and Shiro worked with the fake? They could conclude that Sora and Shiro knew she was fake from the moment the game began, and yet— 
“Would they truly give their dice to a fake of unknown provenance and uncertain faith…?” 
Ino thought back to twenty-three days earlier. In the bath, Sora and Shiro had handed the fake Steph their dice without compunction. We’re all in the same boat, he’d even said. An act that could hardly be more dangerous… Why would he do such a—? 
“E-excuse me… Mr. Ino?” 
“Yes? Whatever is the matter, Miss Stephanie?” he responded with unprecedented cheer as Steph’s voice echoed from outside the game. Steph, as if somehow uncomfortable with the goings-on, inquired quite sheepishly: 
“W-well, if I may… To punch Sora while sitting on his face… I just think it just seems a tad inappropriate! I—I mean, this is just my opinion, mind you?! Oh—oh-ho-ho…” 
She spoke with such courage as Ino continuously pummeled the Sora NPC. Every punch shook the ground. The road cracked; it was turning into a crater. With no regard for his dwindling Love Power, Ino went on filling the air with thuds: 
“Miss Stephanie, have you ever heard the phrase ‘two separate issues’?” 
Sure that this was the very moment for which this VR machine had been born, Ino gave the smile of the century. 
“Uhhh, well! Y-you know, they say the more two people fight, the closer they are…” 
“In thaaat case, everyone must have been the best of friends during the Great Warrr. ? ” 
Plum, likewise outside of the game, responded to Steph’s desperate attempt to patch over the situation. 
“U-ummm— And Sora himself said something about how, you know, with enough stupidity, you’ll end up a genius!” 
“So…,” Steph continued. “If you hate each other enough, then perhaps you’ll end up the best of friends! Perhaps that’s how just about anything works, don’t you think?!” 
As the thud of Ino’s fists continued filling the air— 
“I—i-i—in the first place, didn’t you all betray one another?!” 
—her words stopped him, made him think. 
“Sora said it himself! He trusted you to betray him!!” 
00b: 
—Among the die-bearers is one traitor whose memory hath not been collected. 

…One traitor. Not one fake or one liar—one traitor. Sora had indeed said so—I knew you’d all betray us. If that was how just about anything worked—if there was no greater faith than that knowledge— 
“Could it be—? Could it truly be, O Holy Shrine Maiden? Could it be—it’s…?” 
The words hit Ino. The words Sora hadn’t said, back when the game had just begun, as he had trolled him. 
Who really gives a shit who’s the traitor? 
So Sora had implied. Now Ino could see why. Who was the traitor? Ino himself. They all were. Everyone had betrayed everyone. Everyone knew they’d all betray one another. Then the Old Deus bothered to identify “one traitor” in the rules. Just who on earth— 
—was the “traitor” the rule referred to? 
 
It was expected that they’d all betray one another. But then, if someone they didn’t think would betray them did— 
…There it was—the answer. 
…… 
Forty-two days since the start of the game: the 306th space. On the stone-paved road west of the Elkian domain’s capital echoed the sound of hooves and wheels. Sora smirked with Shiro on his lap as the carriage they’d obtained in Elroble jostled them. Another sign passed by with exactly the same words he’d become so accustomed to seeing— 
—Select one of the seven souls held by the Old Deus to be killed, whereupon thou shalt be transported to the final space. 
This Task, which had repeated for six spaces— No. Rather, this Task, which surely repeated from the 301st space all the way to the end, had been written with who knew what intent, concentrated by who knew what means. In fact…when you got down to it, it was just a cheesy play on words. Sora chuckled. 
—Let’s go over the rules. 
03: 
The result of the roll of the dice shall be determined randomly, whereafter ONE of the dice used shall be lost. 
10: 
Each TASK shall be transcribed upon a sign, and these signs shall be placed upon the spaces of the board in random order. 

The roll of the dice was random, according to Shiro’s random number analysis. 
Yet the order of the Tasks was arbitrary, not random. 
01: 
The seven are granted ten DICE that apportion their TIME OF SUBSTANCE . 
06: 
Each player hath the right to create fifty T ASKS at the start of the game. 

The dice were granted to seven. 
Yet, the Tasks were written by players. 
Now, there were three rules only the Old Deus could have set. First—the leader alone would be saved but wouldn’t gain anything. Second—the one with the Shrine Maiden would maintain the lead. Third—this traitor rule. Yes, in this game into which the Shrine Maiden had coerced or tricked the Old Deus, there was a traitor such as none of them could have conceivably allowed—one whose memory had not been lost. From the fact that these rules had made it through, what could one infer—rather, conclude? Let’s run it down. 
Who had written these Tasks, and how had they been lined up? 
“That one’s pretty obvious, ain’t it?” 
As Sora snarked, the carriage rolled on—to the 307th space. After the load screen, they found themselves at their destination—and there she was. As Steph and Sora (Shiro in his arms), climbed down from the carriage, they saw her just ahead of them. She looked back without reaction, without a flinch, just there. Who was she? 
“It has to be you. Player 7, the nameless God.” 
Yes. She who held a dried-up brush against her cheek, sitting atop an inkpot about her own height, floating in the air, in the guise of a young girl. Her steel-colored eyes now looked back at them and reflected not a thing in the world. There she was, her presence filled with an intimidating air as if a cataclysm were drawing near. And yet…despite all this, Sora felt her entire being seemed illusive—hollow. Like some sort of prop or doll. Sora dared to continue speaking as if to provoke her. 
“This Task requires someone like you—not a die-bearer, but always in the lead—who can move anywhere and anyone but is still a player.” 
Pretty cheap trick for a god. 
“You wrote it, and you put them all at the end while calling it arbitrary. What other possibility is there?” 
Just as he was sneering, the Task sounded. 
—Select one of the seven souls held by the Old Deus to be killed, whereupon thou shalt be transported to the final space. 
—All right, let’s go with this answer. Sora smiled more deeply. 
“If someone finishes normally, probably, almost certainly—this chick’s dead.” 
The game had been started under duress; therefore, that would be the logical result. And even suppose they were to finish and make a demand to avert that. What kind of demand would work? They’d had their memories collected before the start of the game, so they had no way of knowing. But if Sora and Shiro hadn’t allowed that—a sacrifice—then it was simple: They just had to not think logically. 
“Whoever knows what demand will prevent the Old Deus from dying is the one who has to finish the game.” 
“…S-so you’re saying…you know?” Steph asked from behind, but Sora just cocked his head and looked back at her, his smile carved into his face like a crevasse: 
“Not me. You’re the one who knows.” 
Sora’s portentous words weighed on Steph. No, rather, on the one whose memory had not been collected, the one who knew what to demand— 
“That’s your cue, Traitor… Or should we call you Fake?” 
“…………Par…don??” 
The one who looked like Steph stepped back, her face wrenched with fear and confusion. 
“—It’s you. You’re gonna fulfill this Task and make it to the goal.” 
Sora stepped forward as if chasing Steph, almost commanding her. And Steph, seemingly uncomprehending, gave a parched cry: 
“Y-you’re asking me to name someone—to kill them…a-and finish?!” 
“Not someone. The one who won’t die if she releases them.” 
—Now for the final answer. Sora grinned. Release one of the seven souls held by the Old Deus? Which seven souls? One would think it would be the seven die-bearers’. Their bodies had been divided among the dice, and their souls lived on under the protection of the Old Deus. If she released them, they’d die. However! Steph was a fake! And the Old Deus was a player?! And, wait, what about the Shrine Maiden?! Ah, just which seven souls did she mean?! Goodness, who to sacrifice—?! 
…Should we at least pretend to worry about it like that? Sora and Shiro sneered to each other. 
One would say the question was: Who should die? 
They would say the answer was: No one, dumbass. 
If they weren’t going to sacrifice anyone, then they didn’t have time to worry about it. 
“You just need to cancel out the existing sacrifice—bring back the one who’s already died.” 
Yes. The Old Deus had even gone so far as to shove in that rule that the leader be spared to protect her. She carried her body with her always. This one’s body hadn’t been divided into dice—and the soul could, therefore, be released without leading to death. 
One who was already dead and thus could die no more. One who was invisible to Sora and his companions but had disappeared with the Old Deus at the start of the game. 
One undoubtedly at the side of the Old Deus who floated aloof. One of the seven—the seventh. 
“You can just say ‘the Shrine Maiden.’” 
Reaching his conclusion, Shiro looked at Sora as if to say, Of course, while Pseudo-Steph looked dazed. No one spoke, except for Sora, who amped things up. 
“And thus! The Shrine Maiden’s soul returns to her body, and we’ve revoked one sacrifice!” 
As if dancing, as if singing, he gestured to the traitor. 
“You shall be transported to the final space, and— Congratulations!! You are the winner!! Take your victory lap, savor the taste of success, bathe in champagne on the podium, and make your demand—!” 
He froze—then said it. 
It was the third rule only the Old Deus could have made, the demand that could be known only by the fake Steph—one whose memories and actions had been tampered with. 
“…The demand only you, the traitor, could know: the demand to keep the Old Deus alive! ?” 
. Confusion and bewilderment left a silence. The traitor shook her head and gave the obvious answer. 
“I—I don’t know…what you’re…talking about… F-first of all—you’re saying, I’m a fake…?” 
Yes. Sora and Shiro themselves knew the fake would not know herself for one. Then she must be the clone, created with the authorization of Steph herself. That made it all the clearer: She’d do Steph’s will—Sora and Shiro’s will. She’d betray them. So Sora calmly stuck it to her. 
“—D00d. You remember depositing those Tasks? If there are only 350 spaces, and we’ve got Tasks only the Old Deus could’ve written—where are yours? Can you tell us what I said before we left Elkia? Where’s Laila? Where’s the letter, the instructions we gave you?” 
Of course she couldn’t answer. But Steph could have. 
“……L-let’s just suppose you’re right… Hypothetically, mind you!” 
She tried to argue. 
“I-if I get to the goal and say the Old Deus’s demand, won’t that mean the Old Deus wins?! Sh-she could be demanding all of our lives, everything we wagered! In the worst case, everything—” 
“Nah. Thing is…it doesn’t mean she wins.” 
Sora cut her off. Look at the rules: 
13: 
The die-bearer who first reacheth the goal shall be the VICTOR , whereupon the game shall end. 
14: 
The Old Deus shall be bound to fulfill the demands of the VICTOR to the full extent of her authority and power. 

The full extent of her authority—didn’t impinge on their rights. 
“…That’s right. Simply put, you, the traitor, are the victor. Didn’t I tell you?” 
If someone who would never betray them were to actually betray them— 
“You’d betray me, Shiro, Jibril, Plum, Ino, Izuna—even yourself. You’d betray everyone’s betrayal.” 
The demands of the Old Deus—the Race Pieces, the Shrine Maiden’s life, everything. Without letting her have any of it, they’d just…make it through, without sacrificing anyone. 
That was all they’d sought when they began the game—for everyone to make it. 
“You’re even gonna betray the Old Deus’s faith that we’d never let the traitor make it to the goal! ?” 
…… 
There was a long silence but for the howling of the wind and the overwhelming presence of the Old Deus, who remained disinterested in everything, her expression vague. This all went on for who knows how long, until the downcast girl who looked like Steph whispered, “Sora… Shiro… Am I…a fake?” 
Her voice trembled as she asked, but Sora and Shiro replied with aplomb: 
“…Yeah… I mean… Look—” 
“It’s not like we ever had any intention of letting Steph play.” 
The real Steph would be in the Eastern Union by now, with Laila. Just imagining the faces of those sorry bastards made Sora smirk. 
“In that case… Who am I…?” 
Still downcast, “she” cried out: 
“Am I just a pawn?! A puppet?! What will happen to me once the game is over?!” 
She shook, letting out the weakness she hadn’t shown even in the battle with Jibril. 
“—Did you rely on me to win the game…?” 
Sora had declared that there would be no sacrifices, and if there were to be any, then they’d all go down. Steph had been impressed, and that had been why she’d desperately repressed her fear all this time. 
“Did you think…since she’s a fake…it’s fine if she disappears…?” 
But as she shouted her resentment, Sora merely said: 
“Uhhh, uhhh, um, th-that’s— It’s not, uh, whaaa?! Sh-Shiro, help!” 
“…Brother… Whenever, a girl cries…you…lose, your cool… Dumb virgin.” 
He was truly at a loss for what to do. Shiro glared at Sora as he panicked. It seemed he wanted to say it really wasn’t like that, but Steph was still looking at him with tears in her eyes. 
“…You won’t, disappear… You won’t, die… Don’t worry.” 
Following Shiro’s pronouncement, Sora took several deep breaths, cleared his throat, and continued: 
“Uhhh, let me repeat myself. We’re not gonna sacrifice anyone.” 
For starters—why had she been excluded from the list of souls held by the Old Deus? 
“…The Old Deus doesn’t have the soul of Stephanie Dola. According to the Ten Covenants, you wouldn’t have been made without Steph’s permission. And look! Me, Shiro, and Steph wouldn’t agree to toss out a fake once the game was done! C’mon.” 
So, you know, they’d presumably dump her memories from this game into Steph outside or something… 
“Uhhh, how do I say this…? Look… Steph wouldn’t betray us… So—” 
Sora averted his gaze just slightly and grumpily, bashfully, explained. 
“—as long as you’re a traitor, we can’t call you Steph.” 
In exchange, Shiro gave a thumbs-up and added: 
“…We’ll see you…on the outside…! Say… ‘I’m home.’” 
“Yeah… Right, and then—we’ll respond with your name, ’kay?” 
……Heh. Heh-heh. 
She broke out in giggles. 
 
The traitor who was apparently not Steph took a step toward the Old Deus, her limbs trembling ever so slightly—as were Sora and Shiro, who couldn’t keep themselves from giggling. Even she who was apparently not Steph could see why. Sora and Shiro themselves had no proof that they were definitely right. In fact, they’d made a lot of mistakes in this game, for instance with Jibril. 
What if she made it to the goal but she didn’t make the right demand? What if she chose the Shrine Maiden and the Shrine Maiden died? What if, after the game ended—she disappeared after all? And what indeed if the Old Deus had set it up so they all lost? 
Countless anxieties rushing through her head, the traitor…raised her lips into a smile. She trusted them. She had been selected as the traitor because they trusted she’d never betray them. That must have been why they’d entrusted everything to her on the last move, trusted her to betray them. Look at what they’d done for Jibril, all for the sake of preventing any sacrifices. Everyone would be smiling at the end of the game…so the traitor made her decision. 
She looked straight at the Old Deus—and named the soul to be released. 
“The…Shrine Maiden!” 
Then, with a whoosh, the entire landscape slid. But in that moment, the face of the Old Deus, cold and emotionless as always…somehow…looked like that of a child…about to burst into tears. 
 
A bell jingled. 
In place of the girl who’d disappeared, they were teleported to a grassy knoll overlooking the sea. A pleasant voice rang out, clear as a bell, accompanied by the sound of wooden sandals. 
“…Phew… ’Tis been forty-nine days since last I had a body… Scarce do I recall it being so heavy…” 
From behind Sora and the others…came a figure with two large tails, clad in Japanese-style garb, swaying into view… The golden fox. 
I’d rather not get old… The Shrine Maiden seemed to smirk. Sora and Shiro inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Mmmm-hmm!!! Looks like we win—amirite?!” 
“…I’m so…tired… I wanna, get in bed…and sleep…” 
Meanwhile, they stretched theatrically and showed off their fatigue. 
That same moment— 
Whoosh, the last two dice disappeared from each of their chests. Now back to ages 18 and 11, respectively, Sora and Shiro looked to the sky, where, presumably, the final space lay forty-four moves ahead. 
Fake Steph must’ve made the right demand. The landmass rumbled, swayed, and crumbled… Clearly, the game was over. 
“Well… Considering we tasted defeat, I guess we can’t say we kicked ass… Sigh, I missed a bunch of things, didn’t I?” 
“…It’s not…your fault… I made…a lot of mistakes…too…” 
Sora and Shiro were sullen as they reviewed their results, grieving their loss. Eventually, they would sulk off to bed and talk about it tomorrow. 
“Heh-heh! Well now, you two, you’ve made it through all their traps, even hers—” 
But the Shrine Maiden butted in with a merciless— 
“And yet you’ve forgotten all about mine? Poor me! ?” 
—and wicked laugh, which grabbed their attention. 
Expressionless, emotionless, lifeless as ever, the Old Deus sat atop her giant inkpot floating in the air, but— 
“…Why did ye not seek thine own victory…?” 
“…………” 
Sora and Shiro frowned dubiously in unison. There was the Old Deus, much the same but somehow different. Her words, formerly etched directly into their brains, now reverberated in their ears. Her presence, before a menacing tidal wave, now seemed like a mere stage setting, surreal. 
As if she’d quit being a god. 
“…Why did ye not seek thine own benefit…?” 
Even her tone seemed somehow different—childish. But Sora didn’t seem to get what she was asking. 
“Sorry, I’m not following. We won, right?” 
They had sought their own benefit and thus won. They had gained the advantage. There was no doubt in Sora’s mind. But the Old Deus’s expression shifted, and she held her head as she lamented. 
“…Why did ye not take it from me? Why did ye not permit me to die…?” 
“…Uhhh… ’Cos, I mean, look… This is a game, right?” 
Sora checked, as if unsure for a moment, and took a breath. 
“Why the hell would we kill such an epic gamer?! It’s, like, 10/10, would play again!! Besides, if we let you die, that’d be a huge-ass weight on our conscience! No way we’d be able to handle that!” 
“…It wouldn’t be, fun… We’d feel really bad… Plus, we’re totally chicken…” 
“You bet your life without a second thought, and you’re chicken… Quite an amusing joke!” 
Though the Shrine Maiden teased him, Sora turned and yelled, his expression dead serious: 
“For real, man!! I can’t take it anymore! I’m just gonna say it, all right?!” 
He’d been planning to tell Jibril later, but instead he clutched his head and shouted: 
“You guys! Listen to Tet just a liiittle bit more, at least!! I can’t even freakin’ believe how you’re just leaving him out like this!! Sure, he might be an obnoxious little bitch, but when you get this far, you gotta shed a tear of sympathy for the li’l guy!! The Tenth of the Ten Covenants. C’mon, guys!! Repeat after me!!” 
—Let’s all have fun together. 
“What’d happen if you killed each other?! I’m starting to think I’m the one who’s messed up, so lemme ask you somethin’!” 
Sora recalled what they’d seen when they played Jibril: That world that bounced between taking to being taken, killing to being killed, hatred and despair alone repeating in an unlimited cycle; a world Sora’s old world could have devolved into with one false step— 
“—Is that shit really so goddamn fun?!” 
…Silence. Then… 
“…I understand it not— I understand it not, I understand it not, I understand it not, I understand it not, I understand it not, I understand it not!” 
Each time the Old Deus whispered as if about to clutch her head, the game board broke further and the rumbling grew more intense. At last, her voice shaking— 
“If that be so, then indeed— What is it to believe—?” 
“—? It’s to doubt, right?” 
Sora answered her blankly and without hesitation. It’s all kinda fuzzy…but didn’t we just prove that when you can trust someone once you know they’re gonna betray you? Sora looked confused. 
At last, the Old Deus gritted her teeth and shouted tearfully, very much like a child throwing a tantrum. 
“?If that be so— Then answer me this!!” 
The crumbling of the board reached their feet. 
“Why? did my host betray me? Answer, ye lowly beings!!!” 
As if her shriek was the last straw, everything broke down, with just one person offering a parting thought. 
“Well then, do take care of my troublesome friend here. If I’m to borrow a phrase from you—,” said the Shrine Maiden, smirking devilishly like a fox, and just then… 
“—This is where it gets real. How exciting! ? ” 
…something black swallowed Sora and Shiro up. 
 
The island of Kannagari, capital of the Eastern Union. Deep in the basement of the Chinkai Tandai District. Plum and Ino versus Fiel and Chlammy—the epic game that had unfolded inside and outside virtual reality had ended. The difference between winner and loser was laid out cruelly, as clearly as in a diagram. 
On one hand, the winners were wreathed in joy. 
“Tell meee, how does it feeel? Tell meee, how does it feel knowing you couldn’t pull off a single spelll? ? ” 
“Heh, heh-heh-heh, ha-ha-ha-ha! I, Ino Hatsuse, look back on my life without a smidgeon of regret!” 
Ino looked completely satisfied as Plum flitted through the air and riled up their opponents. 
Ino wouldn’t be able to do it again now that he had a physical body—that NPC massacre for which he’d utilized his bloodbreak. He gave himself over to the glorious sense of achievement, experiencing such rapture that he would hardly mind if he were to keel over at that very moment. 
Plum, for his part, had used his incorporeal form to send off a barrage of magic without regard to the attenuation of his soul. He’d bombarded Fiel with the full force of the true form of Dhampir, shutting her down—and not only that, he’d plunged her into manifold layers of waking dreams and made a perfect fool of her. He was beside himself with glee. 
On the other hand, the losers were cloaked in despair. 
“…I lost to a mosquito… I lost, I looost… Hee-hee— Just kill me.” 
“…Pant, pant— Fi… There was nothing you could do… After all, they cheated…!” 
Fiel mumbled and let out a hollow laugh as Chlammy panted and consoled her. 
It would have been futile to expect Chlammy alone to compete with Ino in physical prowess, let alone with his bloodbreak. Meanwhile, Fiel had pushed her magic to the limit—no, beyond the limit. She’d resorted to a multilayer rite that incorporated a seal rite… She’d used her trump card, the seventh rite, and now the gem in her forehead was muddied, clouded darker than ever before. 
And despite this, she’d failed to surpass Plum even once. Hence, compared to the dullness of her eyes, her gem looked crystal clear. 
“…Why, if I’d known it would be like this, I’d rather have been born a flower… Chlammy? If you see me in the next life, don’t put me in a vase… Please nurture me in a bed full of natural fertilizer…” 
“Hey, what do you mean? Where are you going, Fi? Fi!!” 
The scene was divided between joy and despair, light and darkness. Steph’s face was drawn as she watched this deciding moment, this literal split between light and darkness. But at this time, she still didn’t know that this was better than what was to come. Thus—it all happened at once, bringing about chaos mingled with light and dark. 
“??! …Huh? Wha…? Where—am I?” 
Like a muddied stream, Steph’s mind flooded with memories from the past forty-two days. As she was thrown into confusion by her contradicting memories from having been in two places at once, the shrieks of two others rang out with far more urgency. 
“Ghuhh?! Wh-what is this blood—? I-I’m not ready to die! I retract my previous statement!” 
“Eeeee!! I-it buuurns! I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dyiiing!! My queen! Blood, blood, I beg you!!!” 
Apparently, Ino and Plum had also returned to normal at the same time Steph regained her memory. They had a physical tab to pay. Ino retched up blood and started begging for his life. Plum flew to Steph’s side, descending on Laila’s wrist as she slept in her bowl. And then? 
“…It seems my masters have prevailed after all— Oh?” 
Jibril’s passionate comment as she casually shifted in had suddenly turned into a puzzled head tilt as she took in the spectacle. Steph was shouting ironically, having remembered the game and the unending fear and abuse she had suffered at Sora’s and Shiro’s hands. Plum looked on the verge of evaporating as Laila was refusing his sudden demand for blood, Fiel was chanting Die! Die! as Ino was convulsing deep in a sea of blood, while Chlammy, too exhausted to move to help him, wailed… 
Hmm. 
“You all seem to have thoroughly enjoyed yourself, given your smiling faces! ?” 
“I wouldn’t call this look on my face a ‘smile’!!!” Steph insisted before suddenly asking, “…Wait… Jibril, where did you come from?” 
“The Shrine. Ah yes, and Miss Izuna is on her way as well, but more importantly—” Jibril gestured casually, and they were able to view the scene outside. 
It appeared to be a cataclysm. The spiraling sugoroku board, a carbon copy of the planet created in the firmament, seeming to reach into space itself. Now it was breaking, crumbling, collapsing under the power of gravity as if the natural order was being restored. Measuring over 350 ten-kilometer squares across, these were better considered landmasses than rocks. If even one were to fall into the ocean, it would cause a massive tidal wave, and if one touched down on a city, the damage would be catastrophic. The landscape crumbled and began melting away, as if it had never existed… 
…but. 
“…Where are Sora and Shiro? …And the Shrine Maiden…?” Steph had finished the game, and as the game board crumbled…her memories had flooded in, her physical body restored. 
“Would it be accurate to say the game has concluded? Where are my masters…?” whispered Jibril. 
But suddenly, amidst the deluge of memories, Steph recalled what the other Steph had been compelled to wish for at the final space. 
Return the ether possessed by the Shrine Maiden to the Old Deus. 
…That was it. That was all. She’d been compelled to wish it. Steph didn’t know what it meant, but it appeared that things had ended with no one dead, without a single sacrifice… 
“—The game’s not over yet, is it?” 
“…Pardon?” 
Looking at the black specks far out on the crumbling board, Steph murmured: 
“Because…that girl…the Old Deus…still hasn’t smiled.”