The Age of History (3)
To Geopin, who had lived through countless ages, Miro was little more than a child — yet he acknowledged her extraordinary insight and her will to do what was right.
"She's the kind of person you could entrust the world to."
He liked that her self-confidence pierced the sky, and that she nevertheless thought with a completely open mind.
"The only question is... is Miro prepared to sacrifice everything for the world?"
"I'll do it. Besides, there's probably no one else who can. Unless there's another way."
If it was the only way to solve the problem, a mage would even lay down her life.
"No. That's not enough. You can't be made steward just because you can do it and want to."
She might have to endure a span far longer than a normal human lifetime — perhaps forever, utterly alone.
"The human heart has no limits, but precisely because of that it can break easily. If you regret it even a little, humanity will fall into the worst possible state."
"Even if the task calls more for heart than head..."
Miro clasped her arms across her chest and swayed her upper body left and right.
"That's your nature."
He liked that she didn't lose her sense of humor even in despair.
"Who would willingly take this on? It's right that I do it because there's no one else. This is a matter that must be approached coldly, and I can bear it."
"For how long?"
Miro fell silent.
"I know you're incredible. A hundred years? No, maybe a thousand if I told you to. But this isn't about that. You'd have to fight the thought that you might be alone forever. No matter how vast the space, you'd feel like you're trapped in a coffin, and reason can't stay whole in that state. I promise you'll go mad within ten years."
Unable to deny it, Miro asked, "What do you want me to do?"
Geopin held out his palm. Hexa's hexagon rose and became a metal box.
"Meta Gate. A Heaven device. It stores coordinates and warps space. This planet is distorted by a dimensional wall right now, so without this you can't come back."
"You're telling me to go to Heaven?"
"I'll give you one year. You must see and feel it yourself. Reason alone won't do. Without a mission — a vow that you'll absolutely accomplish it — I can't name you my successor."
As he handed over the Meta Gate, Geopin added, "It must never be taken. A system without a steward will eventually be conquered. That's why someone must be trapped in a solitude that could last forever." Miro stared at the Meta Gate, then lifted her head.
"I'm not whining, but why not you? Couldn't you be the steward?"
"I have a mission greater than that."
It was a short answer, and Miro did not press further.
"Then I'll go. Where do I go?"
"Galliant." One year later, a black sphere materialized at the warriors' refuge prepared in Galliant.
When Miro pierced space and arrived home, she was thinner than she had been a year before.
Geopin, sitting on the bed, closed his book and asked, "Was it a pleasant trip?" Watching Miro stare ahead without speaking, he realized it wasn't just her appearance that had changed.
She's ready.
A sense of duty beyond reason had settled in her.
"I'd like to hear some impressions, at least."
Miro's first words were blunt. "No one should approach Heaven. At least for now, humanity cannot bear the truth of the world."
Geopin nodded without resistance. "Have you decided?"
"I will do it. I'll manage the dimensional wall and keep the existence of Heaven from entering here."
Miro turned her body outward. "The Geopin Gate here will be the same. If an unqualified person reaches Heaven, it could give an excuse for invasion. I'll at least install a trial gate."
Geopin extended his hand as if encouraging her. "Do as you wish. From now on, the world is yours to guard. How you do it is up to you."
Miro made a gate of trials to judge those who would go to Heaven.
Geopin prepared to leave. "Then see you on the appointed day. I'll take care of the Istas side. And this may be meddling, but..." He hesitated a moment. "If there's something you'll regret later, don't hesitate — do it now. If there's someone in your heart, tell them. Share your love."
"You're really meddlesome."
Geopin gave a short laugh. "I don't think you'll make mistakes. It's just... leaving regrets behind seems too sad."
It would be unbearably lonely.
Regret.
A face rose in Miro's mind. When she remained silent for a long time, Geopin asked as if he'd expected it. "So... there is someone, right?"
Snapping out of her thoughts, Miro answered firmly. "No."
The judgment of the council of twenty hadn't been handed down yet, but she already anticipated the result. The world would push her into cold loneliness, and if that was fate...
"I'll accept it."
This time Miro asked, "Don't worry about Istas. There's a capable ally there. But what about you?"
"I must prepare to leave."
Unlike a year before, Geopin turned away first. "It won't take long." The first place Geopin sought was the No-Life Zone in Heaven's southern hemisphere.
Though named for a place where life had withered, it was actually where forgotten beings lingered.
"Karatorsa."
In sunless darkness a tremendous presence passed, and a moment later a radiance was born.
The majesty of the Mudeunryong towering over Geopin was always awe-inspiring.
"Geopin."
Behind the fading glow of Karatorsa, the silhouettes of the Twelve Apostles flickered faintly.
"They're still a powerful race."
To remain so strong without special evolution since the early days of Omega—
"It must mean perfection."
At least they were the most perfect creatures Argones and Gaia could create.
"Why have you set foot in forbidden territory?"
Granted by Argones to preserve their species, the dragons waited in the No-Life Zone for their time.
"Don't be so cold. You were able to rest because we prevented the reset, after all."
Karatorsa wanted to get straight to the point. "So? Why have you come?"
"I thought I'd try a reset this time." A killing intent flared in Karatorsa's eyes.
"Human, I hate jokes. If you're serious, it means you've come to fight us."
"On the contrary. I want to make a bargain. First — the Apostle of Time has no forgetting, right?"
"Hmph. Don't compare us to imperfect human thought. We are the coldest of species. No information gets distorted." All information is stored as combinations of zeros and ones.
"Then our history can be seen neutrally. Help me, humanity."
Karatorsa pressed his face forward. "We are neither for gods nor humans. We only prevent any particular being's intent from intruding on the flow of time."
"That's what I want. A world that will never change, no matter what I do from now on."
"Your understanding is lacking." Karatorsa sounded exasperated. "If you succeed in intervening in something, Anke Ra could do the same. The existing time would collapse, and from then on it would be uncontrollable."
"What if I could transmit the Akashic Record's logs to you?"
The Twelve Apostles flared with light, and Karatorsa — who'd been staring blankly — asked, "The logs of the Akashic Record? You mean every event since the beginning, every atom's motion?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Karatorsa's tone turned provocative. "I know you can implement an outside signal. You call it the Idea. But even the Idea is a signal made within this world. And the Akashic Record belongs only to the one who dreams this world — Anke Ra. You cannot reach it."
"I can reach it."
Geopin pointed at the sky. "I'll send it from outside directly."
"...Outside?"
Karatorsa tilted his head and pictured the universe beyond the dark edge of the sky.
After a long silence he murmured, "You intend to go beyond the universe... and from there... transmit the logs to me?"
"Yes. I don't know what kind of world is out there, but I'll make it succeed. I'll hack the logs and fire them to you. In return, if I succeed you must guard the flow of time based on the Akashic Record's logs. Allow no variables."
"Leaving the photon realm. If you disappear..." Karatorsa's mind began to race.
"Anke Ra would have its only obstacle removed. Then it will attempt resets and try to fix all its past errors."
"Right. You must stop it."
"But there's a problem."
Karatorsa looked down at Geopin again. "Even if we guard time, who will stop Anke Ra? If you don't exist in the second era because you tried to reset while logs are detached, lower-level incidents will arise. Users will feel déjà vu, and angels might sense something amiss."
"Yes. The Akashic Record will crack. I've left relics engraved with my name. Not only for that, but they'll help you resolve contradictions in history."
"Hmm. Rather than confuse users, you plan to make the reset itself acceptable."
"That's the only solution. Even if you try to stop me, I'll reset. It's better to have the logs I transmit than to charge in blind." Long moments passed.
"...Very well."
The Twelve Apostles descended to the ground in human form, and Karatorsa straightened his great body. "The Apostle of Time has promised."
"Thank you."
As Geopin turned and Hexa's light shone, Karatorsa asked, "Are you sure it won't feel empty to you? From outside, this world might be nothing more than a single signal. Could you still love it seeing that? What if everything you treasured so far is false?"
"I can."
As the last heir of Gaia — that brilliant, integrated mind — Geopin spoke as its final vestige. "Even if it's false, even if something more nihilistic awaits beyond, I can love it."
He pressed his hand to his chest. "Everything I've lived, loved, and felt here is real. It will remain within me forever."
He was not leaving simply to leave. "I'm ready. It's time to return with what I've learned in this world. And that will be..." Geopin's body began to dissolve into particles of light. "To become a god with a heart."
As only his voice drifted through the air, Karatorsa fell into deep thought. "A god with a heart..."
He had thought the worlds would continue spawning new worlds and converge into endless voids. "We'll go the other way."
Beyond infinity.
So that in every world a god with a heart might dwell.