A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 20

by Kazuma Kamachi

“Do you know what it entails?”

  “Do I need to answer that?”

  “A wall of bacteria.”

  Suddenly, the Academy City pilot veered the conversation elsewhere. That was how Ekalielya thought of the move—but she was wrong. Both thoughts were actually connected.

  “A killer virus transmitted through the air. The type that doesn’t only infiltrate your respiratory organs—it can get inside your blood vessels from nothing but skin contact. And it effectively decomposes oils, to boot. It will stop animals from breathing while also poking holes in filters like masks and air ducts designed for use against biochemical weapons. Once they scatter it, the usual countermeasures won’t be usable anymore.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “The Kremlin Report is a defensive procedure for nuclear weapon launch facilities…Should the nation suffer an invasion by an enemy force and those nuclear launch facilities be under threat of capture, the plan entails dispersing this bacterial wall around the facilities, precisely annihilating only the people, leaving the launch facilities unharmed. The procedure on how exactly to carry that out is the Kremlin Report.”

  “…”

  “Naturally, they’ll never send out an evacuation advisory for the Russian soldiers and civilians working at the facilities, nor the civilians living normal lives nearby. The procedure’s only priority is to guarantee the nuclear launch facilities’ safety. They still haven’t completed a vaccine that can combat this bacterial wall. It has an extreme resistance even to heat treatment. Sure, there are reports saying you can obliterate the bacteria by using incredibly dense ozone, but…You know what would happen if they did something like that to the infected, suffering victims, don’t you?”

  Ekalielya’s hands, gripping the flight yoke, quavered slightly.

  If that was true, it would change the meaning of this war.

  Academy City wouldn’t be fighting to make the Russian people suffer. Russia’s top officials had started this war on their own. They were about to greenlight an operation to cause further suffering to the Russian people they were meant to protect, who were fearful of the war’s trends and saw how the situation had started to get out of hand…Didn’t that mean Academy City would be fighting to stop that?

  Ekalielya felt something central to her mind, her core, was about to break.

  But she shook her head against it. She couldn’t deny the possibility that this was propaganda designed to sap her fighting spirit.

  “Words of an enemy nation. How could I believe something like that?! You’re the ones actually using military force to invade our lands and point your weapons at our people!! Am I supposed to overlook this real invasion happening right now because of some idle chatter with no evidence?!”

  “I thought you’d say that,” said the Academy City pilot, seeming somehow amused. “So I brought something with me.”

  She heard a bing!

  Modern fighter jet instruments had become digital monitors, able to display complex information from multiple angles. One of her many small LCD monitors had suddenly switched to a different screen.

  It had forced her communication port open and was squeezing information through.

  But that wasn’t what Ekalielya was surprised about.

  The values and sentences displayed on the screen almost stopped her heart in its tracks.

  “What do you make of that?”

  The Academy City pilot’s question came to her.

  “Are your leaders really protecting the Russian people?”

  Britain’s second princess, Carissa, had also spoken of the Kremlin Report.

  The distance between her and the Femme Fatale had closed almost enough that they could ram their noses into each other. Their swords ground against each other, and their heads pushed past the blades.

  The sword of light born of the Curtana Second’s fragment and the French sword Durandal: As they pressed their weapons, each in the realm of legend, against each other, they traded words as well:

  “…What was that?”

  “You’re the brains, aren’t you? Considering Russia’s circumstances and technology, and how Academy City’s invasion is currently going, you should be able to tell whether I speak true or not. Or will you spout some trivial nonsense about not believing it until you see the Kremlin Report with your own eyes?”

  A great force exploded between their blades.

  Each withdrew by about ten meters.

  The Femme Fatale, holding Durandal ready, told her quietly, “No matter how righteous the flag you fly, the fact is you’re using French land as a stepping stone to interfere with Russia. And France, having matured this much under the patronage of the Roman Church, cannot allow itself to disobey their orders now. Even if what you say about the Kremlin Report is true, it isn’t a reason for me to sheathe my blade.”

  “Are you being serious?”

  “You’re the one who caused a coup d’état to protect her own people and tried to destroy the Europeans, weren’t you?”

  “As much as was necessary.”

  Carissa didn’t deny it.

  She wouldn’t utter only words convenient for her—she easily admitted to her own ugly faults.

  And on top of that, she said, “But I don’t plan on killing anyone I don’t need to in order to protect my people. Not a single one.”

  “…”

  “What connection is there between Russian people being made to suffer from the Kremlin Report’s activation and you defending your French people?”

  “It’s…”

  “The Roman Church’s patronage? Did you really want that yourselves? Was it really protecting you? Right now, thanks to the pressure they put on you, you’ve caused a needless war and put your own people in a crisis, haven’t you?”

  The Femme Fatale stayed quiet for a moment.

  Carissa quietly brought the Curtana Second’s fragment, and the sword of light it created, to bear. “France is the only one mounting an actual magical offensive against the UK. Everyone else has figured it out—the Roman Church isn’t behind this war; Fiamma is…And if not for this petty squabble, we could go to Russia, too. You have the chance, right now, to avoid the worst-case scenario.”

  She had no doubts.

  She had no reason to have any.

  “So what will you do? I don’t remember France, the nation I’ve determined to be a long-standing rival, being this worthless.”

  Academy City, District 23.

  In this school district, a conglomeration of aviation and space-related technology, waited all kinds of aircraft. Normally, passenger planes for transporting people and goods were common, but now, it was dyed in a more martial color. A myriad of fighter jets, bombers, and transport craft were lined up in rows, with staff for maintenance running around among them.

  In their midst was one certain bomber.

  The HsB-02 supersonic bomber.

  Over eighty meters long. A top speed of a blistering seven thousand kilometers per hour—it was an aircraft that seemed to transcend physical limits of the earth’s atmosphere.

  A bomber.

  However, not a single bomb was loaded inside that vast pile of high-spec machinery. Only an empty hold—but anyone who knew the circumstances would have felt their spine freeze. Something far more terrifying than mere bombs was on board.

  “Hm-hm-hmm.”

  A woman’s humming could be heard.

  Along with the voice, filled with amused-sounding emotion, there was an audible cracking noise. One chair was placed there, and someone was sitting in it. A woman without a left arm and with a pulpy right eye. The edges of her yellow coat were charred black, and a pale-blue arm of flashing light extended from it. Countless medical devices were arrayed around her chair, and several tubes and cords were attached to the woman’s body.

  Shizuri Mugino.

  Academy City’s fourth-ranked Level Five, known as Meltdown.

  The reason they’d decided to send her onto the front lines in
Russian territory was a simple one.

  “…I caaan’t wait—can you, Haaamazuraaa?”

  And another Level Five had boarded a different bomber.

  “Wh-whoa! What, what is this?!”

  The shout came from the bomber’s pilot. Black-suited men were supposed to be on board this plane—a special force unit they’d be dropping into Russian skies by parachute. The team was ordered to confirm the movements of a Level Zero named Imagine Breaker and to quickly defeat him and knock him out if they could corroborate that he had allied himself with an enemy faction.

  They weren’t espers. However, they were a group of professionals, outfitted with the latest firearms and possessing the skill to precisely put down targets with inhuman motions. Supposedly.

  But now.

  Why was everyone in that massive cargo space unconscious?

  And…

  Who on earth was this girl, who looked like she was in middle school, standing in the center of them, sparks crackling every which way?

  “Hello! You’re gonna have to add another passenger to your list.”

  “…?!”

  Every part of the pilot’s body sensed danger. He tried to quickly leap outside the plane and raise his voice into a shout to inform others nearby of the crisis.

  Before he could, though, sparks flew.

  A high-tension current, regulated so that it wouldn’t leave aftereffects, forced the pilot’s muscles to contract, leaving him unable to move a single finger, much less speak.

  “Gah…?!”

  “Sorry. I’m at the end of my rope at this point, so no guarantees I’ll be able to hold back on the next one,” she told the pilot as he wheezed.

  Mikoto Misaka told him thus:

  “To Russia, please. Do your original job, and I’ll give you a pat on the back.”

  “Now then, what will you do?”

  Somewhere in Academy City, someone spoke—Aiwass.

  Aiwass was not human.

  And the one facing it, as if in concord, was not human, either.

  “…”

  Long hair, black, with a little bit of brown mixed in. Nervous eyes, visible through glasses. A girl with good proportions. That was how she looked—but in reality, she was an aggregate of AIM dispersion fields.

  Hyouka Kazakiri.

  Her eyes, as she confronted Aiwass, were not locked in her usual uneasy gaze.

  In them was, though slight, a conviction—a will to fight.

  To that girl, Aiwass spoke.

  “A being similar to you has been confirmed in Russian territory, yes. An archangel—the POWER OF GOD. No, if I were to acknowledge its incompleteness as a trait, I suppose I should call it Misha Kreutzev. Either way, humanity currently does not have the technology or military force to do anything about it. Once the trample begins, tragedy is sure to visit all people of that land.”

  “Then you want me to fight it?”

  “That is indeed a highly fascinating choice. Of course, you have no responsibility to make it.”

  “…”

  “You’ve started to consider specific plans? Well, if you say you will, then there is no need for worry. We have a disposition to prefer this village, inundated as it is with AIM dispersion fields, but should we use the Sisters scattered throughout the world as a medium and grant directionality to the AIM dispersion fields, we could extend the belt-shaped field area from Academy City to deep within Russia for you.”

  “That would be…” Kazakiri stumbled over her words for a moment. “Would that mean sending a virus into their heads again?”

  “If necessary,” answered Aiwass simply. “But it likely will not be. Last Order is not with us, so it may be difficult, but your objective now probably aligns to the Sisters’ benefit. Even without forcing the command tower to give the order, I would think the individual specimens would be cooperative.”

  “…”

  “Now then, what will you do?”

  “What will you do?”

  “Nothing.” Not even a second passed before Aiwass answered. “I only do things that I deem fascinating. The movements in Russia seem somewhat interesting, but I don’t feel enough interest or value to fight for it.”

  Even if humanity died out and the world disappeared, Aiwass probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

  One built up intricate plans one by one for some grand goal, and one who had the power to destroy the world with one fingertip but never acted except on whims and fancies—which one of them was really more terrifying?

  “You may go.”

  Kazakiri thought for a while, then said, “However, I have a condition.”

  “You would ask me? I’m not the one with a bombastic ‘plan’ in mind.”

  “Do not lay a hand on my friends, please.”

  “If they never whet my interest, then you may name any you like.”

  “…If you do, then I will turn against you both, even if we devour each other in the end.”

  “Still not enough to be called a threat.” Aiwass smiled faintly. “Those very words could instead draw my interest, you know.”

  And the pilot of one of Academy City’s supersonic fighters deployed over the Sea of Japan, for the first time since entering the battle, let out a desperate cry.

  “?! Evade!! Turnrightnoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!”

  “?”

  Ekalielya, of the enemy Russian Air Force, frowned—but realized why a moment later.

  Something.

  A big hunk of something was hurtling straight through them, between each military’s aircraft.

  Roar!!

  The explosion and shock wave tearing through the sky came later than the actual object. It shook the top-of-the-line fighter Ekalielya piloted like a tree branch. If it hadn’t been a Russian plane with excellent mobility and stability, it would have stalled and fallen out of the sky. She looked and saw that even the Academy City–made titan, which was over eighty meters long, had almost lost its balance from the impact.

  “What…?! What was that just now?!”

  The new bogey had come from Academy City. It was probably something they’d developed. Considering the situation, it was highly possible it was another cutting-edge aircraft. But Ekalielya couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. The object she’d witnessed a moment ago, with her own eyes, was clearly something that ignored all extant aviation sensibilities. It wasn’t just a UFO. They were treated as metallic aircraft made of unknown technology—Ekalielya thought of them as mysteries—but mysteries on a level that humans could manage to accept. That was because they were vehicles, controlled on the inside by some sort of creature.

  But that thing from earlier had been different.

  For just an instant, that which had leaped into Ekalielya’s vision was…

  “An…angel…?” she murmured. “What on earth was that…?”

  “Fuck, don’t ask me…I’m just as surprised as you.”

  Though they had no way of knowing, it was a being called Fuse Kazakiri.

  However.

  She wasn’t being controlled by a third party this time. Her own will shone clearly in her eyes. As she tore through the skies, something creaked and grew out of her right hand.

  It was a sword. A mass of destructive force was created, one that was incredibly unsuitable for how she was normally.

  It was almost like her will to fight had taken physical form.

  Fuse Kazakiri flew through the Russian skies faster than any other airborne creature.

  Her uncontainable desire to protect her “friends” would likely lead to a fierce battle, a direct confrontation between angels.

  Yes:

  Science and magic.

  A battle between two angels created two wholly different ways.

  Touma Kamijou was headed to the center of that battle.

  He’d boarded one of the Elizalinan vehicles in the motorcade. He’d directed one of them to a different place in order to send off Accelerat
or, but the other vehicles were smoothly proceeding toward Fiamma’s castle.

  He’d found a bundle of parchment on the unconscious Accelerator.

  He didn’t carelessly touch it, since it might have been a magical item, but instead, he left him Index’s name. The name of the girl who would tell him the parchment’s meaning.

  “…Yeah.”

  He smiled a little to himself.

  The fight against Academy City’s number one had been unexpected, but he’d gotten a lot out of it.

  “I’m the one dawdling about, doing nothing but worrying. I didn’t exactly have the right to talk big in front of Accelerator.”

  Lesser, who was sitting next to him, looked at the side of Kamijou’s face.

  He still had his eyes set forward, grinning, as he continued to talk to himself with such energy it was like he was beating the pulp out of his former self.

  “Reasons? Justifications? I never needed any of those!! Do I have to have a logical motive to stand up for someone?! Index is suffering. And she can’t give that smile she always does. Fight for that!! Isn’t that enough?! Quit thinking up excuses!! Stop hesitating and hesitating and looking for more rational reasons!!”

  Yes: Just like during the coup in London, when he’d wasted no time stepping up to the plate against the new queen with Curtana Original in hand, his voice had a strange kind of heart in it.

  “Is leaving everything to Fiamma going to solve it all?! What the hell does it matter if you feel guilty toward Index?! No matter what that bastard says, is any of it a reason to stop wanting to rescue her?! It was never enough reason to stop me, was it?! No matter how grandiose he was being!!”

  He’d returned.

  The motivation granting this boy strength had settled back into its original position.

  “I’m not protecting her because it’s right!! I’m not saving her because the rulebook says I have to!! I just want to—me!! You don’t need to stop for anything, asshole!! You don’t need to debate whether it’s right or wrong, and you don’t need to look for clues to figure that out!!”

  After letting his voice get loud, Kamijou forced himself to quiet down, until he continued softly, “…Yeah, I am the worst kind of person. I was lying to Index that whole time—I’m a garbage human. Maybe, with the life I’ve led, I can’t proudly claim I’ve been protecting her.”