[599] A Rootless Tree (1)
Shirone's mind seeped into the light.
It was why he could keep his eyes open amid a brilliance that could not possibly be brighter.
'This place—'
As if his body had vanished and only his consciousness remained, he had no sense of standing.
He raised his hand but felt nothing; he could look anywhere, yet saw nothing.
At minus one second before 0:00 in the upper layer of Istas, where even time had been lost, Shirone came face to face with Geffin.
"Hexa."
When he turned his mind toward the voice, a shimmering shadow appeared far off.
The closer it came, the clearer its shape became, but waves of light interfered with that clarity as if to forbid any further approach.
'Is it really human?'
Shirone couldn't be sure.
The black silhouette clearly had a face and limbs, but the light's distortion lengthened the whole body into a stick-like shape, and some parts were thin, as if broken off.
"Are you Geffin?"
Geffin did not answer, and the thought that it could vanish at any moment made Shirone anxious.
"Answer me! You have an obligation to speak to me! Who am I? Am I Ikael's child?"
"Hexa. You are a result."
Shirone did not want to be called Hexa.
"Say it plainly. I'm very angry right now."
After pausing as if choosing its words, Geffin's voice continued.
"You have no cause."
"What—"
Where in the world is a being without a cause?
"You are a result. Pure chance. Therefore free, and therefore able to fight."
Even if he couldn't accept Geffin's words as truth, it felt devastating.
"No parents, no reason to have been born? Is that what you mean?"
Even dust drifting in the cosmos must have more meaning than this, he thought.
"Answer me! Are you saying Ikael is not my mother?"
"Once, she was a mother."
A surge of fury rose in him for no reason he could find.
"Don't evade the question. Say it clearly! Come out here! Don't hide—show yourself!"
"I am before you. Only I am not present before you."
Was Geffin malfunctioning?
They were clearly speaking the same language, but Shirone couldn't make sense of it.
"Do not analyze; accept. Take it as a whole and become one. That is Ultima."
Only in that instant of direct perception did Shirone finally understand.
The word was "erasure." You don't exist here now.
"I'm not asking for much. I only want to understand. Who am I? How can I know?"
"When you know everything, you will know everything."
It wasn't a riddle or evasion.
For an entity that transcended human thought, that was the only truly certain answer.
"When I know everything..."
Interpreted by human standards, it meant reaching the end of truth.
"How do I meet you?"
"Beyond Infinity."
He'd seen those final words in the Gaia people's record in the ruins of heaven.
"Beyond Infinity...?"
Shirone managed to keep speaking with Geffin, but this phrase resisted interpretation.
"How is that possible?"
Anyone who understood what infinity meant would ask the same thing.
"It means there's no end, right? How could you surpass that?"
"Why assume it has no end?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? Numbers go on forever—"
"Have you ever reached the end of numbers?"
Shirone fell silent. Of course he'd never reached it—that was precisely why it was called infinity.
"Infinity is only the largest concept humans can conceive. See the ultimate. At the end of Infinity, surpass Infinity."
Shirone asked again.
"Are you saying numbers... have an end?"
"There is one."
Geffin's answer was resolute.
"And beyond it, I am there."
Geffin's silhouette began to shrink.
"Wait! I haven't heard anything yet."
"I have conveyed everything. My existence here is the last."
Once the upper layer closed, Geffin could not be found anywhere in this world.
"I will be waiting at the Ultimate."
As Geffin dwindled to a dot and vanished, a vast storm of light surged in its wake.
No external force touched him, yet Shirone's mind reeled as if swept by a wave, and then it began to disassemble into its smallest units.
"Wait. Wait—"
As the light faded, he saw the back of the hand he had been reaching toward Geffin with, and at that moment Shirone's eyes closed.
* * *
"Shirone! Are you all right? Shirone!"
When Anchal tapped his cheek, Shirone's eyes snapped open.
"Hah!"
A shock of sensation hit him as if he'd been dismantled and reassembled, all his senses reconstructing at once.
"Where am I?"
"Outside Istas. You bolted out the door. I followed right after and found you collapsed."
As his senses steadied, Shirone's eyes drooped halfway closed.
"Did you meet Geffin?"
Anchal asked just before Shirone drifted back toward sleep.
It was another key piece of information about the upper layer, but Shirone wasn't certain.
'Did I meet Geffin?'
He remembered conversing in the light, but the memory lacked the tangibility to be sure it hadn't been a dream.
"I don't know. But this I do know for sure."
A single tear slipped from between his half-closed lids.
"I... have no roots."
Shirone sank back into a deep sleep.
* * *
"So you're leaving?"
Vice-Principal Olivia tipped her teacup while facing Anchal, who had come to pack his things.
"I've obtained all the information I wanted. I must report to His Majesty the Emperor. And of course to Valkyrie. Then San-hwangke and Chilwangseong—the three imperial spheres and the seven royal courts—will all learn of it."
Olivia wondered if Anchal would really hand over a secret to another power so readily, but she had no desire to meddle in politics.
"Anyway, it might be good for you too. With the upper layer closed, there's no need to seal Istas."
"True—good news for the graduating class. One formidable rival is gone."
"Of course I'm a professional, but—"
Anchal reflected on his time at the school.
"The current graduates are quite strong. Dante, Canis, Fermi as well."
Those names were imprinted in Olivia's mind, too.
"Why tell me? Wasn't what happened in the upper layer top secret?"
Anchal chuckled.
"You don't trust me. I really will share the information with Valkyrie. It's a matter too large for one empire to hold. And..."
Anchal thought of Shirone waking that morning.
"Even if I kept silent, the person at the center of the incident still attends the school."
"True..."
What Anchal had revealed about the upper layer was astonishing.
"Yolga threw a ripple into Miro's heart, and that ripple continued, giving Shirone the option to leave Miro's space-time. Are we merely living inside predetermined time?"
"You can't conclude that. I think this way: it's not that time is fixed, but that we possess a conviction that lets us make the same choices."
Like Yolga, who advanced despite knowing death.
"Conviction, huh."
Anchal slung his backpack over his shoulder and stood.
"I must go. Time's tight. Give Shirone my regards."
"Do you think this will harm Shirone?"
"I can't promise. I'm only a cog of the empire. But..."
Anchal paused, then said, "As director of the Jincheon Space Bureau, I'll do my best. Tell him to contact me if he needs help."
"All right."
That the bureau director who handled the empire's secrets was within reach was a network beyond ordinary imagining.
"Then—"
"Wait. One more thing."
Olivia stopped Anchal at the door.
"Miro gave Shirone the chance to choose, which means she remembers the upper layer incident, right? How can that be?"
After Geffin's disappearance, Miro should have forgotten Yolga's death; that would have been expected.
"Who knows. That's a question even I have. In any case, Miro is powerful enough to be called beyond human. But on the other hand, perhaps Yolga's death didn't merely erase memory—it might have changed Miro herself."
"Hmm, that could be."
Anchal shrugged.
"It's just conjecture. Only Miro will know the truth."
"Yes."
Only Miro would know.
* * *
"Paré!"
In the Roblang Kingdom, in the basement level two of the Marika Hotel, the party was in full swing as usual.
No one failed to know that Miro had been camped at the hotel for days, and she had matched the tavern record by downing a staggering twenty-one glasses of polka.
"Unbelievable, miss! Twenty-one polkas! I saw legends when I was sixteen—are we witnessing a new legend today?"
"One more and she'll beat the record! After thirty-four years, no less!"
Hearing that, Miro offered the empty glass she had just drained.
"My name cannot be missing from any 'best'!"
As cheers rose, Sein pulled Miro back with an exasperated look.
"Stop drinking. You're actually drunk."
"Aww, so what? Today is a good day."
At a secret political meeting at the hotel, the politician Miro backed had gotten a motion passed.
"I'm leaving soon, so I should enjoy Roblang's specialty to the fullest."
"No matter who you are, if you drink like this you won't hold it together. Think about the crisis."
Both of Miro's cheeks were flushed as she pointed with a lopsided posture.
"Heh, so you're saying you'll wait until I'm so drunk I collapse? Creepy. Fine, let's see."
Dropping her cup on the table, Miro called out.
"I challenge you!"
"Good! Hey, everyone, gather round! This is the moment a new legend is born!"
Sein sighed.
'Why is Miro doing this?'
She never missed a good time, but he'd never seen her binge like this.
"Sein, this drink is called polka."
Miro watched the two streams of liquid—two colors—swirl into the cup while resting her chin on the table.
"I don't want to know."
"Long ago, Roblang's fishermen enjoyed two kinds of liquor. Polt, a distilled spirit from the north, and Enka, a fermented drink from the south. When they set out to distant seas, northern and southern crews argued over which drink was better. Eventually a captain, tired of the fights, suggested a compromise: instead of fighting, mix them and drink together. That's how polka began."
Looking at the whirl of Polt and Enka, Sein finally understood Miro's intent.
"What does 'Paré' mean?"
"You and me. All of us."
"..."
The polka was complete.
"Now! If she drinks this, the miss is the best!"
"Drink! Drink! Drink!"
Miro raised both arms and grinned.
"Good! Let's begin!"
When Miro grabbed the cup, everyone fell silent as the strong liquor slid down her throat.
"Whoa...!"
All the drinkers watched until the last drop was gone, then jumped to their feet.
"Wow! She did it! It's the record!"
Miro took a deep breath and dozens of voices cried out in unison.
"Paré!"
"Ha! That felt great!"
Miro stuck out her tongue and collapsed into her chair, but Sein no longer scolded her.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"Yeah. I drank more than enough. I'll leave in the morning."
"Will you remember any of it when you wake?"
"Heh. Doesn't matter if I don't."
Miro looked up at the ceiling.
"Feelings remain, after all."
"...I see."
Perhaps drunk, the lamps' light blurred.
'Yolga unni, you're watching, right?'
Small yet vast, low yet looking higher than anyone else.
Miro raised her empty glass toward the beautiful face shimmering in the swarm of light.
"For the future you and I will build..."
Paré.