Rules of the Holy War (2)
Shirone and his group studied the characters flowing along the wall with concentrated attention.
Shirone shook his head.
"I don't know."
That Ultima couldn't decode them was proof they originated from the outside world.
"Probably characters," Arin said. "Their initial strokes are similar to the forms I've seen so far."
Kanis ran his hand across the wall at her words.
"A faint current."
Different grooves were carved into the wall, and electricity ran along them.
"I've never seen anything like this. If this is a language, there are too many kinds of grids. I can't find the same one twice."
Ares asked, "What does that mean exactly?"
"A language is a vessel for thought. If a civilization used this language, its thought would have to surpass human imagination. Otherwise, characters like this would just be a waste of space."
"For example, on a square grid you can make symbols by directing light—vertical strokes, horizontal strokes, right-angle marks, and so on. You could build a language from those combinations. The problem is the grids themselves are all different. Think about what kind of information would require a language like that…"
Kanis rested his chin on his hand.
"Maybe a way to denote time?"
"Time?"
"Say there's a word for 'apple.' One second later, an apple is still an apple. But with these characters, the meaning shifts with time. If you know a character's meaning, you can deduce the time. Past, present, and future could all be encoded in a single character."
A chill ran through them.
"A four-dimensional language. Still—can't we at least get a rough sense? Our lives are on the line."
"Deciphering ancient script is like solving a magic square. Characters have ranks. Their power varies depending on how many situations they connect to. Take 'apple' again: it's used for eating, dropping, opening—many common contexts. But phrases like 'wrapping an apple' or 'smoking an apple' are rare. If 'apple' were nobility, these characters would all be kings. None of the grids repeat. Even simple geometric shapes take different forms."
Glen pointed at the wall.
"That triangle there looks like one over here."
"They'll be subtly different," Ares said, activating his Crimson Eye. "The congruence of those triangles shows a 0.7-degree deviation. But is it really possible that none of the symbols carved into the pyramid overlap?"
"It is possible," Shirone said. "They're just hard to see. Mathematically, you can make infinite shapes. Because—"
Zulu said, "Pi. Pi goes on forever."
"Right. A circle can contain infinitely many shapes. It's like how mages define the Law's numbers. And if these characters correspond to the Law's primary number, they can't be decoded from the inside. Ultima from the outside world is required."
Kanis concluded, "So decoding is impossible. The characters engraved here can be applied to any situation. They even carry meaning without a context."
"Angel."
"Hmm?"
Sensing their gazes, Shirone explained. "As you know, angels are embodiments of concepts. They can apply one concept across every situation."
They called it the Judicial Halo.
"Therefore the status of an angel is the same as the status of the characters carved here. In short, all the characters written here—"
Ares muttered, "Are they all angels?"
Silence fell.
The procession of characters crawling along the wall looked like an angelic charge.
"Phew." Ares gathered his thoughts. "Okay. Suppose each character has power comparable to an angel, and those things fill this massive pyramid. Why? What for?"
"Maybe—"
Before Shirone could finish, a Harvester burst up from Kanis's shadow.
"Kanis, a wave." Something was emerging from the darkness that had swallowed the blue characters.
Veterans of many battles, they assumed combat stances at once and waited.
"What…is that?"
Seeing the figure made their heads swim.
The naked body was human, but perched atop its neck was a small pyramid.
Shirone activated Miracle Stream. "Identify yourself."
The pyramid-headed man, standing where they could see each other, thrust out his right arm.
A powerful wave rolled in, and a Harvester born from the vibration converted it into language.
—Arin, link the mental channel!
As a mental spell unfolded, Shirone and the others heard the pyramid man's voice.
—I am In人.
A chill ran down their spines, and instinct took over: they leapt to attack.
"Take it down!"
At the same instant, the timeline twisted.
"Taha!"
Yupra, having swung twin swords and sensing the change, came to an abrupt halt.
"What the—?"
The party had vanished.
Only blue characters, casting a cold light, passed through the dull, pyramid-strewn vista.
"Hmph." The pyramid-headed man leveled his sword into the darkness on both sides. "I don't know what trick you're playing, but you'd better come out. No one can pierce my sword-net."
He shuffled forward ten meters; footsteps sounded around the corner.
"There you are!"
Just as Yupra whipped his body around, a young swordsman rounded the corner.
"Valzac?"
A comrade who had practiced swordsmanship with Yupra in childhood.
"How are you here?"
Unconsciously stepping forward, Yupra snapped back to his senses and raised his blade.
No. Valzac is dead. And this is his younger self. The one I knew…
Everyone had called him a genius, but he had been caught in a wide-area spell on the battlefield and died.
"Yupra, you've become a great swordsman."
"Ugh!"
Valzac's smile held no deceit, but Yupra felt insulted.
"Eliana would be pleased." Valzac's wife—also the only woman Yupra had ever loved.
"Shut up, you bastard!"
Bloodshot, Yupra vomited out gravitational force and lunged forward.
Where his blade had traced an X, Valzac was not there.
"Hah! Hah!" Mentally drained, Yupra let his arms fall and panted.
"What the hell was that?"
He could look back on the painful memory now, but it was so old there was no point dwelling on it.
More than forty years ago. I haven't thought about it in over ten years. So why… why is it appearing now?
"Kanis! Kanis, where are you?" Arin ran the maze-like paths without stopping, calling Kanis's name.
They had all vanished at once. What happened?
If this were a hallucination, Arin—the mental mage—would have noticed.
"It's not magic. It's actually happening."
He said he was In人.
There had been a structure identical to the Pyramid of Truth. Why is he In and not human?
She stopped moving. Wandering aimlessly wouldn't help. If they didn't find a clue, they'd keep missing each other.
A cry—wah-wah—sounded somewhere.
"Hm?"
She turned and a scene completely different from what she expected unfolded.
This is… Radum?
As her senses registered Radum, horrific memories surged back.
No. It can't suddenly be Radum. This is magic.
She subjected her mind to shock after shock, but the scene before her did not change.
Wah-wah!
The cries were real.
When Arin turned, an injured woman was running, panting.
She'd lost a lot of blood. But—this was the primary stroke of someone who had accepted death.
A shout rang out. "After her! Kill her on sight!" The woman ran past as if no one could see Arin; soldiers closed in.
"Damn it! Of all places to run to—Radum. We can't even raze it now."
Arin felt terror well up. Why is this happening? My heart—
Arin's mental flexibility was long-honed; losing control of her emotions was strange.
"I can't breathe." For some unknown reason, everything happening here felt unbearably dreadful.
"Kanis, please come. Please."
Who is that woman?
Meanwhile, Kanis, experiencing Radum just as vividly, pursued the woman quickly. Not as sensitive as Arin, his heart nonetheless pounded uncontrollably.
Where did she go? He saw her turn a corner.
Radum is my hometown. I could follow her with my eyes closed.
Soldiers charged. "Damn! She must be mortally wounded. How is she this fast?"
"What do we do, captain? If she talks, we're done for."
"Get her before that. She's probably trying to hide a baby. Listen for crying."
"A baby?"
"I heard it's twins. One boy, one girl. Don't let them get away."
Kanis felt his chest drop.
"Twins… No, it can't be."
"No! That can't be. Absolutely impossible!"
—Kanis, calm down. Your heartbeat is too fast. You'll get a shock to the brain.
No.
The truth—or rather, the days when he had suspected it might be true—flashed through him.
He had no memory of coming to Radum. But Kanis and Arin were both East Asian, and they had grown up almost the same.
No!
There had to be a reason. Of course not—how many East Asians had immigrated under the policies?
—Kanis! Breathe! You're going to die!
"Waaah!"
Panting, Kanis followed the woman down a shortcut through Radum.
She looked exhausted and dropped to her knees.
"Hey, you! Who are you?"
Kanis's face drained of color as he shouted close to her back.
"Uh—uh—?"
"No!"
Arin sat down and covered her ears.
"Sorry, little one."
The woman, having laid down fraternal twins, had one of their necks in her hand.
"Forgive your mother."
She knew what women in Radum were made to endure.
"Baby—"
"Death will be kinder. Don't worry. Your mother will follow you soon."
The woman looked at the other baby. "Forgive me. Live for your sister. If both of you die, I'll never be able to close my eyes."
Gak… gak…
The strangled baby's eyes rolled, then suddenly focused and stared at the woman.
"Ah—ah—"
Those were eyes seeing something, and the pale, terrified woman stepped back.
"AAAA!"
Half mad, she screamed and fled.
At that instant, Kanis and Arin's eyes met.
Shirone, lit by Hexa's smoke, turned back and asked, "What did you do?"
Their companions had vanished; before them stood only a man with a pyramid for a head.
"Where did everyone go? Answer me. If I judge your actions hostile, I will have to subdue you."
As Miracle Stream flashed sharply, the pyramid-headed man tilted his head.
"Why—?"
Ultima read the wave in the air.
"You are not bound, are you?"
Shirone frowned, unable to understand. The pyramid man spoke again.
"Why are you—"
It was something that could be called the karma of all creatures.
"Is there no cause?"