[399] Rapidly Changing Situation (3)
Bang!
Shirone flung the dorm door open, slammed it shut just as hard, and dashed to his desk.
The notebooks he'd lined up neatly scattered across the surface.
He opened one, flipped through pages until he found a blank sheet, then sat down and picked up his pen.
"Core. I have to write the core first. So—what does core even mean? Right, core first—"
His mind was so fully alert that it couldn't handle all the thoughts racing through it at once.
The hand holding the pen trembled. It felt as if someone might slip into his head and steal his thoughts.
He sketched a broad guideline first. Relief washed over him at the thought that he'd escaped the danger of forgetting.
Still, his hands stayed busy; he spread open the notebooks he'd been keeping and began grafting countless ideas onto that core.
The pen tip skittered across the paper as if it might cut it.
His handwriting turned into a frantic scrawl to match his thoughts, and his eyes tracked the notes without blinking.
When the theory was finished, what remained was the math. Shirone ran a few simple physics checks to test feasibility.
Exact verification would require an expert, but rough formulas could determine basic viability. It was that kind of problem.
When the calculations were finally done, Shirone set his pen down with a decisive click.
On the last page, in the final line, the numbers exceeded what he'd hoped for.
Shirone stared at the notebook in a daze.
His throat made a small, unmoving sound as if his soul had been sucked into the page, and he swallowed.
Bang!
Both fists slammed the desk like hammers. He buried his face against his chest and trembled, frozen for a long time.
"Haa."
When he finally lifted his head, the initial elation of having created a new magic was gone from his expression.
"It actually... works."
It wasn't certainty yet. But in theory, it was possible.
Though it came with complex constraints, if the conditions aligned, Shirone could erase Heaven from the map.
A cold fear gripped him.
Because the possibility had seemed so remote—because he'd assumed it was impossible—he had never explored that territory. Now his thoughts reached into it.
Countering Heaven, which was preparing a final war, could be argued as a form of justifiable self-defense.
Reason says you shouldn't pursue experiences you don't have to; there's no need to go all the way if you can avoid it.
But—
If he'd known Aider's disposition in advance, would he have used the same strategy anyway?
That was a hard question.
If Aider hadn't attacked Maya, if Shirone had still judged it prudent to let him go, would the result be the same?
Mages judge efficiency by two measures: principle and gain. If Fermi tilted toward gain, Shirone prioritized principle.
Gain yields immediate results; principle guides the flow and ultimately brings larger benefits.
You can't say one is categorically better. But the plan to destroy Heaven was unmistakably tilted toward gain.
"I have to meet Ikael."
Why had she taught Ataraxia? Had she known that her choice would return as a boomerang capable of destroying Heaven?
"I have to meet Ikael."
He now had one more reason he absolutely had to see her.
* * *
The graduation cohort had already passed week twelve.
Students who'd been racing without a break found the atmosphere suddenly unsettled. More than the school—the whole kingdom buzzed.
Graduating students always had newspapers in hand. In the cafeteria, the park, the Magic Association halls, people talked about the shocking events there.
Former Magic Association chairman Michea Gaold wanted for treason.
Shirone read the headline at the top of the paper several times, then moved on to the article.
It reported an assassination attempt against King Adolf XII of Tormia ten days ago.
Adolf wasn't a tyrant and was popular even in Bashka, so the news shocked people.
Even more shocking was that the person pointed to as behind the assassination attempt was Michea Gaold.
Papers competed to publish related evidence.
They cited that two days before the attempt he'd stopped coming to the Association and gone into hiding—circumstantial evidence supporting the claim.
Students in the park grumbled.
"Traitor? After everything? What was he thinking?"
"Who would've guessed? He used to be the school's pride, now he's a disgrace. If he's a traitor, it reflects badly on the school too—could mess things up for underclassmen."
They spoke as if their anger came simply from Gaold not being around to defend himself, but Shirone understood their sentiments.
He read on.
Those who disappeared with Gaold included Gando, captain of the Magic Association guard, and Plu, the third-floor custodian.
Below the fold was the transcript of yesterday's emergency national security hearing.
Most Association employees recited circumstances that made them suspect Gaold's treachery.
Only Isabel—the Association's Grade-3 certified Magic Library manager—insisted on Gaold's innocence; she was arrested on the spot by the kingdom's intelligence agents and was currently detained.
"Huh. Things are getting messy."
Shirone folded the paper and looked up at the sky.
Gaold had plotted treason.
Could that really be true?
Someone of Gaold's caliber might be capable of treason.
But why?
Nade said, "Even a first-rank archmage ends up on the run when the state moves. What now? I saw strange people at our school earlier. Iruki, do you know anything? You get letters from your dad often, right?"
If Albino—the leader of the Yongroe—had information, it'd be reliable, but Iruki shook his head.
"He said it's premature. Besides, it's not something you put in letters. Those people were probably from the kingdom's intelligence service. They'll search everywhere Gaold could hide."
Iruki looked at Shirone.
He knew Shirone had visited the Magic Association during the break. It wasn't certain, but Iruki had the sense Shirone was hiding something.
"Shirone, do you know something?"
"..."
Shirone said nothing. Especially now, he had to be careful.
If Isabel, a Grade-3 certified official, could be arrested on the spot, there was no guarantee his friends—or he—would be safe.
What's actually happening? How are things unfolding?
Had Gaold really attempted to assassinate the king?
Shirone judged the likelihood low.
A project he'd been preparing for twenty years was now only months from ignition. An assassination might have been part of the plan, but failing so utterly felt wrong.
"The articles say Gaold was arrogant and often insulted foreign diplomats, even the king. Yet he kept his post. Some emotional equilibrium between the two powers must've been maintained. Suddenly that balance broke. Why now?"
It was too reckless and monumental to occur right before a Heaven-bound operation they could scarcely prepare for.
"Or maybe that's precisely why it had to happen."
Shirone rewound time in his head.
"Gaold prepared the project for twenty years. Perfect information control is impossible. As ignition time neared, someone somewhere started trying to put out the fire. That's the most plausible reading."
If that hypothesis was true, it was the worst-case scenario.
Shirone was one of the figures tied to Gaold's project. If the kingdom's intelligence service dug, his name would surface.
Who had moved? The Tormia kingdom? Or something beyond it? How much did they know? How long could they keep it hidden? What should he prepare for?
"...Rone. Shirone."
Iruki's voice pulled him back. Shirone turned to him.
"Yeah?"
"What's with you? You look pale. Are you okay?"
Nade watched him with concern.
"Huh? You're right. Shirone, can you tell us what's up? I didn't want to pry because I thought you might be troubled—but if it's more than you can handle alone, we'll fight it with you."
He couldn't risk telling them. To speak would be to send his friends into danger.
Of course Iruki and Nade probably already suspected something. Because of that, they'd understand his silence.
"Sorry. I'll tell you everything when there's a chance."
Iruki wasn't hurt.
Shirone wasn't stupid. If talking would solve it, he'd have said it long ago. It only angered him that he couldn't help his friends.
"Okay. We'll pretend not to know. But don't be stubborn. The most important thing is you. If you get into danger, I'll do whatever it takes."
When Iruki of the Merkodine family said that, Shirone felt a measure of relief.
Albino had said nothing in his letter, but perhaps Iruki knew more than anyone. It was plausible for his household.
"Thanks. But I'm fine. I'll go back to the dorm. I need to think."
Shirone stood up coolly, but inside he felt differently. He was glad Iruki and Nade were there. In the worst case, Amy and Rian wouldn't be left in the dark either.
Even if he failed, these were people who could protect his loved ones.
That was enough for him.
* * *
With summer, rainy days came more frequently.
The morning had been bright, but the fickle weather soon let loose rain.
The early monsoon had arrived.
After midnight, Shirone stood by the window watching the steady fall.
Three days had passed since Isabel's arrest, but Gaold's whereabouts remained unknown.
Sensationalized papers had turned him into a public enemy.
People presumed to be from the intelligence service had vanished. They might simply have gone to ground.
Assessments still proceeded, but students' morale had noticeably sagged.
The kingdom's greatest mage—the Magic Association chairman—had been reduced to a miserable state; that shook confidence.
I wonder if Isabel is okay.
As far as Shirone knew, Isabel wasn't one of Gaold's personal guards.
So had she defended Gaold at the hearing out of simple loyalty?
Or was there something about it he didn't know?
He remembered her kindly explanation of a laser-guiding algorithm.
And how, on the last day, she slipped a Cubric onto his finger and gently taught him how to use it.
Knock. Knock.
The sound made Shirone's heart drop.
It was already past midnight.
There could be no reason for anyone to visit his room at this hour—teachers would be asleep.
Knock. Knock.
Shirone slipped into the Spirit Zone. He kept the radius extremely small so the person outside wouldn't notice.
Moving toward the door on muffled steps, there was still no voice from the stranger.
"...Who is it?"
No answer meant it wasn't one of his friends. If it had been them, they'd have signaled somehow.
If they tried to break the door, they'd teleport away. He fixed that one rule in his head as he closed the distance.
At the door, Shirone peered through the hole in the panel.
He scanned the corridor in tense silence; his face went slack for a moment, then he hurriedly grabbed the doorknob and opened it.
"Senpai?"
Plu stood there, clutching an injured shoulder.
She looked exhausted, her face pale, bluish lips trembling. She'd clearly been through hell.
Her clothes were tatters, and she wasn't even wearing proper undergarments—her skin showed through the soaked fabric.
Only the mage's look behind her glasses remained from her old composure.
"Shirone..."
A flicker of relief crossed Plu's face, and she collapsed into Shirone's arms before she could finish speaking.
"Senpai. Senpai."
Shirone helped her to the bed, scanned the corridor carefully, and closed the door without a sound.
When he returned, Plu was sitting up, arms crossed over her chest. It was a considerate gesture; there was no hint of shame in her resolute expression.
For a moment he thought of making her a warm drink. In the end, the thought remained just a thought.
She had fled from Bashka to Creas School of Magic.
That she had come all the way here to someone as powerless as him meant their situation was far worse than expected.
"Senpai! What happened? I was so worried!"
There was so much Shirone needed to hear he didn't know where to start.
Plu paused as if choosing words. After a moment, her face twisted in anguish.
"Gando—no, Gando..."
Plu slowly turned to Shirone. A single tear ran down from her steel-sharp eyes.
"Gando betrayed us."