Things You Can't Choose (4)
In the Creas Defense Force medical tent, Alpheas was undergoing delicate surgery to set bone fragments.
Aside from Alpheas, dozens of wounded soldiers lay bleeding and groaning in pain.
"Huuugh…"
Restorative magic had kept them alive, but many of their bodies had suffered severe functional damage.
Liria asked, "Shirone, can you do anything for them?"
"There's nothing quantum phenomena can't do in principle, but healing someone is a tricky business. Hexa's power is a clash of two perceptions over the same world."
Shirone turned.
"Usually I win. You can't beat me when I'm perceiving the world with my eleven senses. But what if it's someone else's body, or a belief everybody accepts? If I told everyone the sun didn't exist, for example—that would probably be impossible."
Dante said, "Because everyone would think it impossible."
"Right. If it were me, I could snuff out the sun with greater force, but the mind isn't the same as the Law. Miracle Stream could take your life—death is a self-evident perception. But it can't make you a woman. That's a conviction beyond the five senses."
"Hm, a technique of the mind." Shirone produced a ballpoint pen.
"Hexa's core is a perfect mental state. For example, if I perceive that this pen doesn't exist…"
The pen vanished.
"It truly doesn't exist. That means my perception overwhelmed yours. But if you could replicate exactly the same mental state I have, you could do it too."
Shirone handed the pen to Dante. Dante took it and stared at it intently.
'The pen does not exist.'
He tried to wipe it from his mind, but the pen remained in his hand, real and present before his eyes.
"…I understand. No method can produce a perfect mental state. As long as you don't know what that state is, you can't block doubt."
Shirone nodded.
"It's a limit of perception. People are absurdly certain about their own bodies. From their standpoint, regenerating an amputated leg is simply inconceivable—no matter how desperately they wish it."
"What if they truly believe?" Eden asked.
"If someone believed in the power of the mind as unquestioningly as common sense—would healing become possible then?"
"Then nothing's impossible."
Shirone smiled.
"But if it were that easy, we wouldn't be fighting so hard. Fixing the principal's knee is easiest with lawful treatment. You don't need advanced math to solve a simple quadratic."
While Dante, Eden, and Liria passed the pen around, testing the quantum phenomenon, Shirone surveyed the infirmary and headed for the door.
Dante followed.
"Where are you going?"
All the demons in Creas city had been wiped out, and the refugees had joined the city.
"Anywhere. There are soldiers and people to share pain with here, but there are also places that aren't like that."
"You could use quantum transmission, right?"
"Simultaneity is a kind of setup. If two of me become aware of each other, one disappears. If both were five-sense beings they might still detect each other across a single wall, but I have eleven senses."
Dante fell silent.
"Quantum phenomena were originally built to construct systems on a cosmic scale. Using them inside a planet feels cramped. If two of me passed each other tens of kilometers apart, it would be like ordinary humans just barely brushing past." Shirone brought his fists almost together and slowly crossed them.
"Don't overcomplicate it. You mustn't perceive that there's another me in a given space. But what if a fierce battle breaks out somewhere? I'll max out my senses to fight."
He opened his right hand and covered his left fist.
"In that case, the one who perceives first becomes the real one, and the others turn to void. If I were on an important mission, that would create problems."
"I see."
"I want to move organically within what I can handle. There are many villages outside Creas—I'll go check them. While I'm gone, take care of things."
"Don't worry about that. But…" Dante had readily nodded, then his face hardened.
"How soon? The Emotion Sickness—when will it show up?"
That was why Shirone's group couldn't relax even after a small victory.
"Within twenty-four hours."
Shirone turned slowly.
"Prepare yourself, Dante. We'll all see a world different from before. Guard your heart. And…"
He wanted to say this.
"Save yourself."
The Kingdom of Fesia.
Demons poured into the southern kingdom of Tormia around two in the morning.
As one of the poorest nations on the southern continent, it lacked the supplies and manpower to stop them.
By around four a.m., demons cutting through the capital spread outward and massacred humans as they found them.
The port city Verikent.
The lifeblood of Fesia's 200,000 people soaked into the ground.
"Waaah! Somebody help!"
The demons taking Verikent were led by the brigade commander Della, under the 6th Corps.
Della, a demon of deception, took the form of a slight girl with glossy black hair to her shoulders.
But her true nature was the worst kind—someone who toyed with human emotions like playthings.
"Please, spare us. Please, please spare us."
About a hundred people who had fled through the alleys and onto the docks knelt and begged.
Men, women, old and young.
She scanned them and fixed on a burly man.
He'd spent his life fighting the sea and, unlike the others, showed a clear belligerence.
Della asked in the demon tongue.
"Don't you like me?"
The demon tongue sounded like dozens of sheets of paper being torn at once.
"What are you babbling, you filthy demon!" the man shouted.
Though he yelled, he also knew he had no chance against the demons.
'I'll slip through a gap and dive into the sea.'
Since the sun hadn't risen, he thought he could dive beneath the waves and hide on a ship.
"Looks like a captain. How about a duel? If I beat you, will you free me?"
Della considered briefly and nodded.
"All right."
Her voice in the human tongue was unexpectedly beautiful, which annoyed the man.
'Feign a fight and sidestep.'
It was twenty meters to the water.
A demon could close that distance in a second, but if he dodged the blow, things might change.
'I can dodge. I can—'
Like a revelation, sparks flickered in his head. He cut off thought and launched himself.
He didn't look back.
With breath still in him and trusting his instincts, he hurled himself and rolled on the ground.
'I'll jump from here.'
He saw the black sea.
When he plunged in with a splash, the trapped people cried out.
"Aaah!"
Their cries mixed envy for the living with the despair of knowing they would die.
"Not very human, but a human choice."
Della glanced at the people.
"One escaped, so you will pay for that sin. Before that… any takers?"
No sooner had she spoken than those who could run at full speed raised their hands one after another.
Della cackled.
"All right, I'll give you a chance. You there—backstep toward the sea. For every step you take, I'll kill one person."
The man called rose at once, but his face froze at her next words.
"Wh-what's the matter? You were going to abandon everything and run anyway, right? If you're going to do it, do it proudly. Start."
Countless eyes bore into him.
"If you refuse, I'll choose someone else."
Before he could decide, his feet moved of their own accord and he took a step.
"One for now."
Della swung and severed the old man's head.
"Kyah!"
A woman screamed, but Della struck her too and pierced her torso.
"Those who cry get killed too. Now, continue."
"Ugh…"
The man whimpered; Della even pointed out someone for him.
A child.
"Now, kill this one. What are you doing? Hurry and run. Or would you rather come back? You might want to wait until someone else kills you."
"Please… please spare me…" The more he begged, the more rapt Della's expression became.
"Walk. Or shall I trade you for this kid? He'll run off whether you die or not."
The bowed people's veins bulged with anger.
'Demon! Demon!'
Among them was Etella, once filled with goodwill.
There was still a spark of goodness in her, but it was a faint ember, like charcoal burned down to ash.
'What can I change?' She had sunk to the very edge of the abyss humans can fall into while hiding.
'We'll all die anyway.'
The fiend was coming.
The worst kind of human—the one who stalks a planet following only her scent—was coming.
Della shouted, "Fine! Then I'll give this child a chance!"
"Ugh!"
As the man shut his eyes and stepped back, Della's hand rose.
"Hohoho! I knew it!"
Just as she was about to split the child's head, screams came from the far side of the docks.
"Kraaaah!"
They were demon screams.
"What's that?"
Della turned; her eyes widened. Her subordinates were toppling in her sight.
From backlit silhouettes, hundreds of geysers of blood spurted up.
"Sniff, sniff."
A doglike scenting.
Then the clang of metal and the sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor.
"…Here."
A silhouette hauled a bundle the size of a wagon with one hand.
It was Shagal of the Soksageom.
When the unexpected guest broke the formation, Della frowned and barked an order.
"What are you doing? Go kill them."
As the demons charged, Shagal's arms disappeared with the hum of a bee's wings.
"Kraaaah!"
The Soksageom's peculiar structure—dozens of layered blades—swooped in and buried themselves in the demons' bodies.
Through the fully penetrated wounds, the demons' dark blood burst like fountains.
"Aaah!"
At the sudden appearance of a master not seen in Fesia, hope kindled in the people's eyes.
"S-spare us! Please save us!"
A woman ran forward, and emboldened, the others all rose and rushed at Shagal.
"Save us! Those evil demons—" A scream choked off as a Soksageom blade lodged in a man's neck and slaughter began before anyone could cry out.
Della watched, stunned.
"…What is that?"
It was inhuman. Not human at all.