Five Great Systems (5)
Green Ocean.
Three hundred angels arrived at the entrance to the elves' stronghold with the fey's assistance.
Their faces, having lost their radiant cores, were filled with fear of the unknown.
"Hmm."
The fey king, Crown, propped his chin on his hand.
"Useless."
He'd felt something off ever since Uriel, the Archangel of Destruction, had asked the fey for help.
"But I didn't expect it to come to this."
Angels reduced to human status.
Their aid to humanity was out of the question, but in another sense this was a boon for the fey.
"To become king of humans. The biggest obstacle on that path has disappeared."
Besides, Uriel was still intact; used properly, he could be a powerful asset.
"If we take the angels as hostages, Uriel will have no choice. We must press forward."
Why the angels couldn't become human.
"The fey mindset doesn't change easily. It's a crystallized sense of justice built over ages. Angels are different. If God's perspective shifts, they vanish."
Crown still found it hard to truly accept that such a thing had occurred.
Uriel watched in silence as the angels who had descended to the earth fumbled about.
Crown's mouth curved upward.
"They must be grieving, of course."
Angels who'd lost their standards were like children; Uriel would have to tend to them personally.
"The tasks you requested are finished. It was difficult to pull the fey away because of the wartime situation."
"…Thank you."
Even the fey king would not have dared say that in former days.
"But I'm worried. Now that the angels have fallen to human rank, they'll need everything humans need to live." They'll need food, sleep.
"Can you look after them?"
"Of course. But there's a small problem... At dawn tomorrow we plan to launch a surprise assault on the elves' stronghold. A fierce battle is expected, and we can't afford to detach forces."
"I will fight."
Crown rejoiced inwardly.
"If I go to the battlefield, how many troops can you spare? The angels will need support. At least until Satiel restores their radiant cores."
He understood the implication of that last remark but viewed it grimly.
"God's justice has been shaken. Even an archangel has already slipped beyond His hands."
He answered with that thought in mind.
"That's a difficult question. Uriel's martial power is incomparable to the fey. Still, given wartime constraints, we can spare about three hundred."
One fey assigned to each angel.
Not nearly enough, but at the moment the angels would be grateful for even one fey apiece.
"Agreed."
"Thank you. Uriel's joining will be a great help. Bring the angels to the quarters."
At Crown's command, senior fey led their subordinates to escort the angels.
"Follow us."
In a line toward the fey headquarters, the angels wore anxious expressions.
"Could you... could you turn the light up a bit? It's too dark to see."
Those accustomed to watching across space and time with the 'bent gaze' found human sight like blindness.
"We're at war, so we can't light it brightly. Please bear with it."
"Ah, right."
Another angel said, "My stomach feels odd. I sense something like pain. Summon a fey with restorative ability."
A rumble came.
"That's your stomach. It's saying it's hungry. We'll give you fruit—eat this."
The angel accepted the small fruit fey ate and waited blankly.
Impatient, a fey pointed to the angel's mouth.
"Put it in and swallow."
"Oh, right. Sorry. It's my first time doing this."
Watching the angels eat the fruit with awkward movements made Uriel sigh inwardly.
"This is maddening."
If their superiors knew nothing, it might even be preferable to fight the elves.
Suddenly a fey's mouth curved up.
"Now, now! This place is easy for enemies to spy on. It's better to crawl."
"Oh?"
Maybe it was an embarrassing act, and the angels glanced around.
But without the absolute divine standard, they had no courage left.
"Shall we?"
As the angels knelt and began to crawl, the fey themselves were taken aback.
"They're actually doing it?"
Like prisoners who'd always followed a warden's orders suddenly stepping into the world.
"They can't bear the terror of deciding for themselves. So they'd rather follow my standard..."
Watching the angels move away, a fey grinned.
"Hoho! Charming. The angels who always looked down on us are all obeying my words now."
Four fey of the Jin rank flew over.
"What are you doing?"
"Master Jin!"
Jin's face was sharp with reproach.
"Have you lost your mind? Even if the angels lost their radiant cores, Uriel is still intact. Do only what you can handle."
"Sorry. We truly didn't know what to do. It was just... a whimsical idea."
Jin exhaled.
The reason fey play tricks is that their mischief is without malice.
"I understand your intent, but restrain yourselves. If the angels are like this, we could be next. Do not forget why Crown is waging this war."
"Yes. Sorry."
As Jin's severity softened, the fey looked back at the angels and said, "It's terrifying—to have no standards. Will we someday be like that?"
"Probably. Crown wants to become human. Human life never had fixed standards from the start. They think and choose without end. Those who make wrong judgments are eliminated; only those who make the right ones survive in that merciless environment."
The fey stared, mouths agape.
"We must become like that. The fey's future rests on this battle. Tell the younger ones not to play cruel pranks. There's always a 'what if.'"
"Yes, Master Jin."
Two fey followed the angels, and only then did Uriel stop his 'bent gaze.'
Watching the fey teasing the angels, a thought came to him.
"Is this the reality that befell us? Or perhaps this too is predetermined fate."
From the Age of Gods to the Age of Angels, from the angels to the fey...
"Finally, humans."
The world was moving toward uncertainty.
Imir's Deep Layer 1.5.
In the virtual world Ruber had created, Shirone simply stared out at the sea.
A year had passed since they arrived here, but that day could also have been only a few hours ago.
Behind Ruber, who watched Shirone on the beach, Gaold and the others stood.
They now knew this place was a dream, but it didn't feel false.
"It's like a spot-the-difference puzzle," Ruber said.
"A single picture looks perfect, but when you compare two, it becomes strange. The biggest problem is you can't tell which picture is the real one."
Sein asked, "Could it be that the picture called reality isn't the real one?"
"Yes, if you're human. But that's only when you're in reality. You're confused because this place is perfect. None of the five systems that make up this world is flawed."
Ruber turned.
"If you take reality as the baseline, logical reason goes to Drimo, and illogical emotion slips into the other-side world. We call them Ideal and Desire."
They are distinctly different.
"Drimo combines the two, sending necessary information into reality and unnecessary information into Diavis. In the end, reality is just one system where a particular logic applies. Drimo is a buffering system that mediates that information."
Sein said, "So time doesn't pass."
"Right. Even the undercoders have time that flows slower than reality, but time still passes. Drimo is different. If information isn't processed, time doesn't pass."
Gangnan asked, "How does information from the other side reach Drimo?"
"Through undercoders. The REM domain is a half-sleep, half-awake state. So there are two connection methods: closer to sleep, or closer to wakefulness."
In truth it's a hair's breadth.
"The former is falling into sleep and awakening; the latter is falling into sleep while awake. Demons sleep too, but they don't greatly affect Drimo—their ideals are weak. Conversely, the latter kind of undercoder is very active. Vast amounts of hidden code rise up."
"The nature of the information dictates the channel."
"Yes. An undercoder is merely a conduit for transmitting information. There's no administrator. Anyone can create a new world within it. If logical undercoders are humanity's domain, illogical undercoders are mostly made by demons—they specialize in hidden code."
Ruber looked back at Shirone.
"Reality isn't everything. A battle is being fought across all five systems. If we go out now, we'll only be killed by Imir's avatar. Perhaps the Five Gods could yet restore the will to live, but..."
Shirone didn't look like he intended to move.
"In reality... he led a really hard life. He couldn't delve deeply into thought. He'd lost the driving force to move himself. Maybe living comfortably here in this dream isn't all bad."
To live here.
None of the party complained much, but they still held lingering attachments to reality.
And that attachment would amplify, and before long drive them mad.
Miro, holding Arius, said, "That brother hasn't given up."
"Huh?"
"He said he's waiting. If he'd truly given up, he wouldn't be staring at the sea."
Sein said, "That could be true. Then what do you think he's waiting for?"
"Hmm."
Miro, lost in thought, said, "A dream."
"Ha! That's a grand phrase. But this place is a dream. I can't even trust my father."
"He's waiting for a dream."
Sein finally grew serious.
"Why?"
"Being able to do nothing means you have nothing. That brother is empty. To refill himself he must draw from something outside himself. What could that be? Only a dream."
The party fell silent.
They all pictured Miro in reality, not the nine-year-old Miro.
'Dream and reality. Does the insight into which picture is true remain?'
Sein stroked Miro.
"Now that you mention it, that makes sense. Yes, for now he can only dream."
Ruber smoothed his beard.
'Dream. A dream... could it be?'
Within Shirone wasn't his own dream but someone else's.
Gangnan asked, "What dream is he waiting for? Meeting a lover? The world he wanted?"
Ruber began, "Perhaps..."
If it can be transmitted like that.
"It could be the dream of a single flower."
The demon blade Armand.
The face of the human who dreamed the greatest dream, and the face of the Flowerfolk who loved him, rose up.