The Unfinished Sin (2)
Armin also knew it wasn't a matter of underestimating Rian's skill.
'When it comes to sheer sword power, a Knight of Macha is unrivaled—that's the consensus.'
But if you limited the question to technique, Kuan's movement could be called the finest among humankind.
'To bypass Havitz's perception. If Kuan can't do it, nobody can.'
With Sein's iron-ringed gaze and Meirei's ability, "God's Frequency," added in, it wasn't impossible.
'Even if it's only a one percent chance, it's worth trying. Havitz is that kind of person.'
Remove the ultimate evil, and the war ends.
"Before we go, I need to confess something." Meirei said.
"Terapos are a species that, by nature, pursue the good. But if good and evil erupt into an all-out war, they'll stop intervening in human affairs." Sein said.
"I know. The Terapos judge humanity, and if evil wins they'll destroy everything. Although if good has already lost, what meaning would that have…" Armin said.
"So when an all-out war of good and evil begins, you can't use 'God's Frequency' either?" he added.
"Yes. This might be our last chance. That's why I want to do it now." Meirei replied.
"Do what?"
Instead of answering, Meirei reached out to Dante.
"Got an awl or something sharp?"
Dante walked to the desk and tossed an awl—one of the tools used to punch holes in file folders—from a drawer.
"Thanks." Meirei snatched the handle, aimed the point at her ear canal, and continued, "An unorthodox form of God's Frequency is activated by blocking the ears. It cuts off the world's waves and lets in only the Terapos' frequency. But using your hands has limits—noise leaks in."
She paused, slid the awl into her ear canal, and pierced her eardrum.
As she slowly twisted it, nerves spasmed and her eyelids trembled.
That was the only change. Meirei pulled the awl free with a calm expression.
"It's done."
Blood welled from her ear and ran down her earlobe in drops.
"If it were only ordinary sound, it wouldn't be a problem, but the waves of the heart are very delicate. You've lost hearing in your right ear now, so you should be able to hear more clearly."
Dante caught the awl Meirei tossed him and, with a flick of his arm, let the blood splash across the floor.
Sein, acting as the one giving the orders, checked the time.
"All right. Let's move. The legions of Hell are advancing on Tormia. We have to extract Havitz before that."
As the assassination squad followed Sein toward the door, Dante called out to someone.
"Liria."
"Hm?"
"Be careful."
Liria snorted a short laugh. "Seriously—don't worry…"
She stopped, remembering, and turned to Dante. "You've been weird today. This isn't your style."
"What do you mean?"
"Why so serious, the coolest person in the world? You're at your best when you do things your own way."
Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she quickly put her serious expression back on. "Whatever you're planning, don't let your emotions sway you. Be yourself. I get scared."
The joke about dying if your personality suddenly changed had, by law's logic, some merit.
"Right." Dante relaxed into a smile, and Liria nodded in relief.
"All right, I'll be back." The door closed. Dante slipped into the wall's shadow, sat on a crate, and lit another cigarette.
'Iruki.'
They weren't particularly close, but maybe for that reason he wanted to have a drink with her.
"Got to have snacks," he decided, sprang up, and headed for the door. The deputy head of security bowed as he stepped out.
"Team leader, a report—activation codes for the Saenghwa—"
"Ena will take care of it." Ena, handing over some documents, looked up.
"Huh? What do you mean…?"
"I'm delegating all of Rope's authority. Ena, you don't need a handover, do you?"
The nobles would control the Saenghwa anyway, so it didn't matter who opened the code.
"Um…" Ena glanced around, realized she'd been promoted, and accepted it.
"What will you do, team leader?" she asked.
Dante's cold smile contrasted with the fire in his eyes. "To the battlefield."
He wasn't going to hide deep underground picking at cipher scraps. "I'm so pissed I might go crazy."
Omega 892.
After a long era and with Eden's growing population at their lead, Gefin had returned to Heaven.
But the angels weren't simply basking in peace.
"Why?" Kariel, who had analyzed the Gaiaans' tech through Babel, had reverse-engineered countless ancient weapons.
"Why have you returned?"
This would surely be different from previous wars, so Ikael was both pleased and horrified by Gefin's return.
"Fighting again? Aren't you tired of it? Accept your limits—humanity has already lost."
War gives everything to the victor.
"Heaven has absorbed humanity's technologies and advanced further. Even if you fight us again, the outcome will be the same."
Ashur arrived then. "Ikael." Before he could catch his breath, he saw Gefin's face and ground his teeth.
'Is the war between gods and humans starting again?'
Gefin spread his arms with a showy flourish and asked, "Did you miss me? You even looked like you were about to cry."
Ikael couldn't understand it. "You're saying that now? You don't think time has bewitched everything and erased our past, do you?"
"You're misreading this. We didn't come to fight."
"Huh?" Ikael blinked, thought for a moment, and a faint color returned to her face. "…You mean you're surrendering?"
If a Gaiaans representative raised a white flag, they could at least be granted some dignity.
"No. We refuse to recognize Anke Ra." Ikael's voice rose; it felt like a taunt.
"You say you didn't come to fight and yet claim you'll be gods? Are you playing with words?"
"Maybe we are." Gefin extended his hand. "As the Gaiaans' representative, I request a conference with Anke Ra. Take me to Ra."
Ikael—and the many angels already present—stood agape. "You want to…meet him directly?"
"Yes. I know better than anyone how long our war lasted. I don't want more pointless wars of attrition. I came back to settle things with Ra."
Metiel shouted, "A mere human dares claim he will meet a god? Even we angels cannot see him without a summons!"
"If you refuse…" Gefin's eyes flared. The Gaiaans' idea expanded massively and pierced the sky. "Then let's try it again."
Most angels showed hostility, though few voiced it. 'No matter how sure Heaven's victory might be… they are Gaiaans.' Ages of battle memories flashed through the angels' minds. 'They always clawed back the situation just when you thought it was over. That's the maddening part.'
Fight or compromise? Opinions split, and Ikael stepped forward as representative.
"You deny gods and yet ask to meet one? No words will convince him."
"I can." Ikael's brows twitched. "I will stay."
The angels murmured as Ikael fixed her full attention on Gefin. "I'll give up becoming a god. In exchange, let the remaining Gaiaans leave. Would that be enough for negotiation?"
"I…" Ikael paused, realizing she first needed to gauge Anke Ra's disposition.
"All right." Her voice amplified through the Ataraxia, the symbol of the archangel's authority. "I will arrange the conference. But only you may attend."
"That's enough." Gefin turned, and all the Gaiaans filling the ground simultaneously severed their links.
Because the conference's outcome could determine whether war resumed, angels kept watch.
Gefin rose into the sky and approached Ikael. "Shall we go?"
"Hmph." She turned coldly away, but her face crumpled as she moved off. 'Sigh.' Why was she like that? 'How many regrets have I had since Eija disappeared? If only I'd held on a little tighter at the end, if only I'd been honest…'
Gefin came alongside her. "You look like you have something to say."
"That…"
Ikael's lips moved, but no words came, as if something choked them off. "If you stay in Heaven, will you live with us?"
She realized anew how hard it was to wrap feeling in sound.
"Hmm." Gefin nodded. "Perhaps that's how it will be."
"It—" The answer was lacking, but when Ikael turned away her mouth quirked into a small smile. "Good. I'll help you a lot."
Oblivious to the sadness in Gefin's eyes, Ikael arrived at Arabot.
At the top floor where Anke Ra resided, she bowed before the door. "Anke Ra—McClain Gefin, representative of the Gaiaans, requests a conference."
The door opened slowly, and a drumlike pulse escaped from Anke Ra.
= = =
The massive lump of flesh thudding like a heart was grotesque, but Gefin showed no surprise.
Ikael rose, cheeks flushed. "You agreed to the conference. Mind your manners. Come find me when it's done."
" Ikael." She stepped aside when called. "Why so?"
Gefin's expression was mournful despite having fought fiercely against time itself; Ikael had never seen him look like that. 'Of course. He has to give up what he so desired.'
Ikael offered comfort. "Don't be too sad. There are ways to live happily with us. Even Anke Ra—"
"The heart continues." Gefin tapped his own chest twice, extended a finger, and pointed at Ikael. "I hope you will carry it on, too."
"What do you mean?" Ikael tilted her head, but Gefin didn't answer. He approached Anke Ra.
"Wait! Gefin—!" She reached out, but the stone gate slammed shut with a thud, cutting her off. It was the realm of divine inviolability.
"Anke Ra." Gefin walked up to the gargantuan, ceiling-reaching monstrosity, and its beating stopped for an instant.
Leather split across its center with a drumlike sound; an eyeball bulged out. "Mac…clain…in…" Nerve endings all around tuned their discordant sounds into vocal waves.
"Gefin." At last the settled voice—majestic and tranquil enough to be called a god's—answered. "You who deceived the world and denied the Law, why do you seek me?"
"You know. I intend to leave the Photon Realm. I have a way to avoid destroying the world. Let all the Gaiaans except me depart."
"I forbid it." Anke Ra's tone was absolute. "You have caused trouble in every instant of time. I do not trust your words."
"That's why you are not a god." A long silence followed.
"…What do you mean?"
"Not being trusted means you're not known. If you do not know me, you are not a god. So why don't we settle here who the true god is?" Gefin spread his arms, staring at his reflection in Anke Ra's pupil. "Swallow me."