A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 22

by Kazuma Kamachi

  They’d just be a toy with its power switched off.

  He hadn’t needed a reason to fight. In fact, he’d felt guilt at doing nothing with the great crisis unfolding right in front of him. And he’d gathered the necessary quantity of the required components. From the start, he’d never tried to reach out for something he couldn’t attain—instead, he’d prepared over a long period of time, slowly, like arranging wooden boxes to form a set of stairs.

  All for a single success.

  For a victory that needed no greater reason.

  And he had to be the same, he thought. Their natures were different, but they both had right arms possessing singular capabilities. And in actuality, he’d used that right arm to continue fighting. He’d probably never doubted the reason in the process. After all, he didn’t need to think about it. He had no reason to stand still, in fact.

  And so they’d be fighting in the same way.

  They should have been.

  They should have been, but…

  Ka-kreeeeeeeee!! A high-pitched whine echoed over the Star of Bethlehem.

  It was the sound of Touma Kamijou’s right arm deflecting the flow of Fiamma of the Right’s third arm.

  Kamijou’s Imagine Breaker couldn’t cancel enormous power sources involved all at once. But he’d taken advantage of that condition. When an attack from Fiamma came, he’d position his palm on the side of it, pushing it as if to move a train onto another rail; sliding it away to divert the enormous attack’s trajectory.

  How? Fiamma demanded.

  His right arm’s output level varied depending on the strength of the enemy he had to defeat. And right now, Fiamma had designated his target as the calamity called World War III, which could destroy the entire planet and pollute the surrounding space with huge amounts of debris. The Star of Bethlehem, Misha Kreutzev, the flesh and blood of the right arm serving as the Imagine Breaker’s vessel…If he was successfully drawing out the appropriate capacity—then the current Fiamma should have had the power to emerge victorious alone over science, sorcery, and the war itself in which all that was mixed.

  It was equivalent to the power to send all humans on Earth to the grave. He was trying to use it for salvation, but depending on its application, he could probably wipe out all of human history in an instant.

  And yet…

  “…How are you able to stop it?” he murmured.

  He reaffirmed his grip on the remote-control Soul Arm.

  In the skies, golden lights converged, and as Fiamma’s third arm moved, so, too, did those lights rain down upon Touma Kamijou.

  “It has that much ability? All it can do is erase preternatural powers!! All it does is grab whatever force it can’t fully cancel out and bend it!! …My right arm can sink an entire continent into the ocean in one swing. It could dry up the oceans with a single thrust!! You were an adapter, and all you were supposed to do is hold on to that flesh and blood until the promised hour. The stem of a potato, returning to the earth once the harvest is over—and nothing more!!”

  Guided by the 103,000 volumes, the power of salvation bared its fangs.

  A rain of gold began to fall.

  It showered down on almost half the Star of Bethlehem’s surface. Clusters of stone buildings toppled, one by one, and huge cracks appeared in the floor on which Kamijou and Fiamma stood. The pressure shoved the explosion out in every direction, and its destruction was so massive even Fiamma unintentionally covered his face with his third arm.

  However.

  Touma Kamijou did not fall.

  His right hand was aimed straight up. He’d forcibly repelled the initial attack, then caused it to burst like a milk crown. He’d caused its aftermath to strike the deluge that followed, twisting the light rays’ paths completely.

  How?

  That boy’s right arm couldn’t have had that much power in it.

  In the first place, no human could ever land even a single attack on Fiamma in his current state. It could be Vento of the Front or Acqua of the Back—though he could end them with a single swing of his right arm.

  “You still don’t get it?”

  Touma Kamijou’s mouth opened amid the ruins, the bombing from the skies having blasted away the ceiling.

  His voice was low and heavy.

  “You told me, remember? Your right arm’s power varies based on your enemy’s strength. The stronger your opponent, the more power you can draw out. And to get the maximum power out of your arm, you caused World War III to amplify the darkness in people’s hearts. In order to bring the enemy you needed to defeat out into the open and finish setting up for all this.”

  So what?

  Even now, as they spoke, World War III raged on. Tragedies were begetting tragedies, and the maelstrom of malice was spreading to every corner of this planet. Fiamma had multiplied his holy power by responding to that ugliness, and once his preparations were complete, he’d purify the entire world.

  “But in that case, you could also say this.”

  Kamijou rotated his right arm as if to feel out his shoulder, and as his joints cracked, he continued:

  “What if everyone’s hearts aren’t as filled with malice as you think they are? Then you wouldn’t be able to draw out the power you envisioned.”

  Fiamma’s eyebrow twitched.

  He glanced beyond the shattered walls, down toward the surface far below. Though the golden skies illuminated it, he couldn’t see past it. Maybe dust and vapor particles were overlapping in the air, forming a screen. The sight looked like the smoke shooting from the minds of those causing wars and killing one another, covering the world.

  “…That’s a bold assumption.”

  Fiamma of the Right shook his third arm.

  He gripped the remote-control Soul Arm tightly to receive the support of that boundless knowledge.

  Clear hatred shone in his eyes.

  “This world is twisted. Control will never appear again. Even the basic four aspects ruptured beyond repair without me to fix them. Remaining resources, clashes between tribes, differences between religions, food shortages, state warfare, the destruction of the environment—all of it is tangled together so badly it’s now impossible to resolve them one at a time, in order.”

  “…”

  “And you would so boldly claim that I couldn’t reap the amount of malice I expected? You must be joking. That’s the sort of rubbish someone who didn’t know the meaning of the word malice would say!! The war is still going on, you know. And this great conflict is making everyone act to their hearts’ content!! Nations, tribes, religions, genders, languages, capital, bloodlines, talent—every single one of those little thorns pricking everyone’s minds has begun to spill into the outside world!! …You want to believe that people’s hearts are really that pure deep down? Humans would most certainly do all these things—what part of their hearts are you even looking at?!”

  “You’re right. I can’t see people’s hearts from the outside. Maybe a human’s essence really is something dark and grimy. Maybe I just don’t realize it, and even I have malice inside me I’d never want to believe was real.

  “But,” noted Kamijou.

  He would not end there.

  “A human’s true nature is greater than that.”

  “What…?”

  “How can you say for sure people only have one side to them? If we have black malice deep in our hearts, then who are you to say we don’t have another side to us besides that?”

  That’s right, thought Kamijou. A person’s heart was host to an incorrigible expanse of darkness. Humans were creatures who thought about more than just connecting with others. They also had qualities that led them to avoid others for many reasons: to protect themselves, to ensure their safety, to possess something. They were made so they could naturally take action that would hurt or eliminate others.

  But light slept in that space, too—an equal amount or perhaps more. The kind of goodwill you’d normally be too embarrassed about to mention
out loud. The level of justice that didn’t even feel the need to make itself known. Those sorts of things surely existed. You just couldn’t see them—but they were absolutely there.

  It wouldn’t make sense otherwise.

  If human hearts really only held malicious intent for killing and taking from others, civilization would have died out by its own hand long ago. The fact that they’d survived this long, the fact that history continued without interruption, clearly proved that the will to connect was stronger than the will to destroy.

  “I didn’t need a reason.”

  Touma Kamijou made a fist with his right hand again.

  “It’s not because I was strong—you failed on your own. People don’t need a reason to be able to fight for those they hold dear. They don’t need special powers to be able to fight for what they want to protect. That’s the power that saved me.”

  “For no reason?” Fiamma watched Kamijou as if looking at something unbelievable. “That conclusion only applies to us. For example, assume a nuclear missile is about to launch. We have the control key, and the console is right in front of us. Sure, we don’t need a reason to put the key in and stop the missile from launching. But people that don’t have the key can’t do anything to stop it.”

  “Nobody needs a key.” The argument didn’t even take a second to come out. “You could just stick a wire into the keyhole. Or you could pop open the console’s lid and plug a laptop cable in, too. And you could probably shoot a cannonball at the missile just before it launches. There’s always more than one way to solve something. It doesn’t give you a reason to stand idly by and wait silently as the missile launches…Everyone has the right to fight—fight for something you’d die to protect, even if you have to take on the entire world.”

  That’s absurd, muttered Fiamma. For the first time, he’d been forced to realize that this creature called Touma Kamijou was fundamentally different from what he’d expected.

  “You’re gonna give Index back.”

  A declaration.

  Touma Kamijou took a big step forward.

  “And not just that. The UK and Academy City—and the Roman and the Russian Churches. All that quibbling, all the fighting between science and magic, all the countries crushing one another in World War III—I’m ending all of it right now.”

  “You think you can?”

  As if to counter Kamijou’s approach, Fiamma of the Right spread his third arm wide.

  His lethal arm whose destructive force increased depending on people’s hostility.

  “Do you think you can win this enormous war without losing a single thing?! This pathetic world war is nothing but prep work. And the purification of the surface has already begun in response to the Star of Bethlehem. You still think you can score a free victory?!”

  “Sure I do.”

  On one side, the shadow leader of the largest denomination of Crossism, thoroughly bolstered by the aerial temple, the Star of Bethlehem; the worldwide malice, brought into focus through World War III; the knowledge from the 103,000 grimoires; the natural gifts of God’s Right Seat; and the flesh and blood of that singular right arm he’d severed and stolen.

  On the other, a high school student who had a unique right hand but otherwise no special traits.

  Yet, there was no need to be afraid.

  And so, Kamijou advanced ever forward.

  “Unlike you, I believe in how strong humans are.”

  Meanwhile, a deformed shadow appeared off the coastline of Barcelona, crashing against it.

  An aberrant, golden form, about one hundred meters long, like a giant arm or an enormous snake. A hand, reaching toward the sky—its five fingers half opened, standing tall, grasping nothing.

  The populace watched in trepidation. After all, this area was relatively far from the flames of the great war; the region wasn’t even in a state of alert.

  As all the civilians looked on, the golden arm changed.

  Brk-brk-brk-brk-brk-brk-brk!!!!!!

  From the ground to its fingertips, the golden arm began to swell explosively from within. Within moments, the palm’s form broke down, changing shape like a huge balloon.

  The distorted sphere made a creeeak-greeeak noise as it reached its limit.

  And then…

  Simultaneously, a massive hand burst out of the Sea of Japan. It clenched tightly, as if to crush itself.

  What emerged a moment later was a rupture. A massive shock wave spread out in every direction, crushing even the gargantuan hundred-meter arm itself to pieces.

  Boom!! It was as though a huge space station had crashed into the water’s surface. A radial wall of seawater over thirty meters tall spread out in all directions.

  Carriers, escorts, amphibious assault ships, battleships, cruisers…It engulfed Academy City and Russian forces alike as their myriad ships of metal stood lined up in battle formation.

  “What’s going on…?”

  Seeing the massive catastrophe closing in on them, a navigation officer belonging to an Academy City affiliate let out a groan.

  In this situation, he couldn’t even decide: Was it better to seek shelter inside the ship or put on a life preserver and jump into the sea?

  “This isn’t even a war anymore! What the hell is going on with the world?!”

  At the same time, a similar golden arm had exploded on the eastern European front as well.

  What happened there, however, was not a high wave.

  Radiating out from the ruptured arm was a thundercloud at zero meters above sea level. The deep-black mass of water vapor licked explosively over the surface, and at the same time, the entire space rang out in a freakish sound. Sparks. Over a billion volts…The extreme high-pressure current would cause those swallowed in the thundercloud to burst into many pieces, and it would fry all the electronic devices loaded on board with their weapons.

  “No way…,” muttered an Academy City man to himself, bewildered at the approaching dark cloud.

  The scale of this calamity was just too big. The thunderhead spread out to the sides, extending several kilometers; at this point, he couldn’t avoid it no matter where he ran. And if it engulfed him, his body would explode in a matter of seconds.

  The man donned a thin smile at the insane situation—but then, somebody grabbed his ankle. It was from the underside of a wrecked Russian armored car. He lost his balance and got pulled inside.

  A moment later, the black cloud rushed over him from forward to back.

  Crackle-crackle-crackle!! There was a series of eerie noises, like train tracks shorting out. Even under the vehicle, he wouldn’t emerge unscathed. Part of the electric current, traveling through the ground and climbing up to him, zapped through his entire body without mercy.

  But he didn’t die.

  As the Academy City man moaned, it finally dawned on him.

  “You…,” he murmured, seeing the female Russian soldier who had pulled him in. “Do you understand this? We’re enemies. From your point of view, I’m an evil invader.”

  “An invader who would go to such lengths to stop the Kremlin Report? Anyway, this isn’t the time to be squabbling over the war anymore. Our chain of command is in shambles. We’re getting unconfirmed reports of things like this happening all over the world.”

  Glaring at the snow, blown up from the ground and still tingling with purple lightning aftereffects, the woman spoke as though spitting the words out.

  “I’m fighting to protect my family, too. Like hell I’ll sit by after coming this far just because we’re facing down the apocalypse or the extinction of humanity or whatever this is!!”

  Crack-crackle-crack-crack. They heard a sound like water suddenly freezing over.

  Immediately after, there was a massive wha-bam!!

  Some sort of huge ring had appeared on the surface of the ground visible from underneath the armored car. A material like pure gold with a radius of over a hundred meters—the giant ring was wider than a four-lane highway, and it was stuck int
o the ground at an angle.

  It’s almost like an angel’s halo, thought the Russian.

  More than that had changed, however. As if to follow along with where the thundercloud had just licked the surface, a bundle of riblike parts connected to the huge ring drew arcs through the air as if they were sharpened tips. Following that, bundles of cloth traveled in curved, riverlike lines, appearing one after the other and gouging out the ground and blowing away nearby parts of the conifer forest. Pushing themselves into this world by force, it looked like a giant toy box being overturned.

  It was a flood of enormous structures spreading out in all directions. Each and every one was a ridiculous size.

  Attempting to speak despite his throat suddenly drying out, the Academy Man whispered hoarsely, “…What the hell is going on?”

  “Damned if I know,” answered the Russian soldier as if to push him away. “The only good thing about this is that we’re on a snowfield. If this thing happened in a city area, it would topple all the buildings around it.”

  “Also…”

  A huge roaring vibration tore through the air.

  The black cloud had withdrawn, but the dangers hadn’t ended.

  There was no rule saying there could only be one golden arm.

  As long as those giant arms kept bursting out of the ground like this, there was no telling what dangers awaited them next.

  “Another one. What now?!” demanded the man.

  The female soldier ran a finger over the antitank rocket launcher. “Should be obvious. Finish things before it ruptures!! Give me a hand, Mr. Academy City. I need your city’s firepower!!”

  “Shit. I had my hands full stopping the Kremlin Report, you know!!”

  “Your end goal’s the same. Doesn’t matter if it’s a bacterial wall or some occult bullshit—we just have to wipe off the face of the earth every last thing that’ll needlessly kill people!!”

  Meanwhile, in the Strait of Dover, a golden arm about to rupture was cut through diagonally from the middle, then began to sink into the sea.

  Civilian and soldier alike were utterly dumbstruck.

  Amid it all, only the girl who had put a final end to the golden arm moved, twirling her staff.