by Yuu Kamiya
Her words astonished the girl, still entirely unaware of things. The throne of the One True God… Did she mean the Suniaster? Somewhere in the midst of those hazy memories of hers, had that Great War truly concluded?
The Suniaster: the omniscient, omnipotent conceptual device. Were it true, if she had that, even these infinite questions of hers could be—
Afterward:
“Nggghh, you! Thou, thou, host! Hast thou not deceived me?!”
“Eh-ha-ha! The one who’s fooled is at fault. Everyone shall know that!”
Yes, if the girl won, the fox’s body would serve as her host until the fox died. And so, the victorious girl found her ether bound inside the fox. Until the fox died or—
“Now you’ll be in me till you get the One True God’s throne. ”
The girl’s mind raged, but the fox just kept laughing merrily.
The girl didn’t even realize: She was showing emotion for the first time. The god of doubt, who wasn’t even sure she existed, had unintentionally given the fox courage, the will to take on the world—and they became each other’s first friends. For as long as they shared a body, by the Covenants, they could never be apart.
“…Be at ease. I know well I’ve lost. I’ll keep my promise.”
By trickery unheard of in any age, the fox had made a friend who could never leave her. She looked keenly out at the giant chess pieces beyond the horizon.
“Keep asking your questions. I’ll listen and do everything I can.”
Strangely, the girl didn’t find that she minded.
“Until I get the Suniaster and you quit denying yourself, just stay put and watch.”
But the experience of talking to someone did make the girl feel something… Something.
Thus, the Eastern Union was born. Not from the girl’s power as an Old Deus; it wasn’t needed. Every time the fox said No, the girl asked Why. That was all.
We cannot defeat another race.
Why can ye not?
We are nothing without magic.
Why hath magic import?
We can never change reality.
Why would thou deem that so?
The girl asked Why, inspiring the fox—to create a country in the blink of an eye.
The blink of an eye to the god, mind you. To the fox, however, it was sixty years…
And it ended just as suddenly.
“…My time is up. Sorry, love. It’s time you got out of me.”
The golden fox, once young, broached the subject the night they took the city of Siren. She flicked the Werebeast Piece up with her finger as she broke the news to the girl inside her. Of course, the girl didn’t know what she meant…but she could guess.
“Is it they? The Immanities?”
The fox had apologized to her before when she’d expressed uncertainty that she’d be able to obtain the Suniaster before she died.
Unable to find what she called “the end of the conventions,” the fox told the girl she’d “entrust the game to someone.” The girl hadn’t minded particularly or even understood why the fox felt she needed to apologize. Certainly, the fox could never have been serious about uniting all the races and defeating the One True God.
But the fox had changed ever since those Immanities appeared, the girl thought. Or had she only reverted to the way she once was? It seemed the fox truly intended to obtain the Suniaster.
“Really, though. There’s no sense in us living together forever.” The fox flicked the Piece, smiling. “In essence, with you and I both as the agent plenipotentiary of Werebeast, there’s no betting the Race Piece.” Her next words took the girl aback:
“…Betting my life alone should be enough, so next time, I’ll leave it to you.”
“……”
Had the fox really intended to give the Suniaster to the girl? She was saying, If I can’t do it in my lifetime, I’ll let someone else. But she’d sworn to the girl, I’ll be your host till I die. Neither the fox nor the girl had the right to revoke that. But what if the fox reached the end of her lifespan…?
“That being the case, we must make a new covenant to supersede the old. We must play another game.”
The fox made a proposal: Before she died and the girl disappeared with her, the girl must play a game with another and pass on the covenant. However, the girl refused. You were the one who promised to see things through, she’d insisted—
“—Therefore, I’ll just cut my life short here.”
.
“…The one thing I won’t do is to let you die…,” muttered the fox, casting her eyes downward, but the girl mused silently.
She was a god but also a helpless girl, existing within the fox and doing nothing more. For her ether to be passed on, the covenant required the fox’s death. Were the fox to die, were the chain of the Covenant to be severed, the girl would deny herself and enter quasi-inactivity. But perhaps, in the brief time after she was released from the Covenant, she could use her power as an Old Deus to seize the fox’s soul, grant her perpetual life, and put her soul back where it belonged. In that case, all she had to do was play the fox’s game—and win—and once again use the Covenants to place her ether within the fox.
“…I consent… O Host… But not to thy death.”
It was for that reason the girl announced that she would consent to the game and apply all her power. What she failed to mention, though, was that she had no intention of passing her ether to anyone but the fox
And the girl was, in fact, unbound from the Covenant. But once she descended—once the fox’s death released her divine power—while the Immanities, Dhampir, and foxes all made up rules to suit their own needs, she realized something.
Now that the Covenant had concluded and she held the fox’s life, she no longer had the option to withdraw even from a game that put her at a disadvantage. She now understood.
The fox had never intended to die. Neither had she meant to pass the girl’s ether to someone else. Her goal had simply been to be rid of the girl.
She’d been betrayed again.
All the girl could do was ensure that whoever won would do so at the cost of her ether’s destruction. She’d have them bet as many Race Pieces as they had players and take hold of their souls…
“…Sorry, love. In spite of it all, I trust you.”
“Having betrayed and deceived me, will thou manipulate me to trust in thee?”
And she’d twist the rules to protect the fox whether she won or lost. That was all she could do.
The girl still could not fathom why this was necessary, but…
“I’ll manipulate you, sure… ’Tis time you stood on your own two feet.”
Yes, this game would prove it. In other words—
“’Tis time you realized… Trust the traitor. Faith and doubt are one and the same.”
If they could send the traitor to the goal, she wouldn’t destroy her ether. But one way or the other, she was sure she’d disappear.
Thus, the game began with those who longed to kill her. Or was it…? She watched them placidly and reflected.
She wondered what she had done wrong, but she didn’t ask.
The Suniaster—the omniscient vessel one might obtain by collecting all the Race Pieces and defeating the One True God.
It was perfect. She would begin by obtaining the Pieces of these five races. She would ascend to the throne of the One True God and gain the answers to all her questions… And then. And…then—
…I shall learn…why she abandoned me…
So the girl thought, but she didn’t know what they meant—her trembling hands, her downcast eyes, these swirling emotions…
What is it to believe? It can never be proven.
If you say it can, if you insist there is an answer…
After making me feel this way, give me a good answer.
If you can prove it, then do so…
Such were her thoughts, but she didn’t know what it meant.
And so, as if waking from a daydream, Sora an
d Shiro took in their surroundings, their thoughts still cloudy. Both they and the Shrine Maiden beside them saw the same thing. The grandeur of the land that had been swirling in the air was gone. It was a black room. Narrow, dim, cold, stark—a space that rejected the world in its entirety. In its center was a nameless girl, an Old Deus, all alone and clutching her knees. It was…a place they knew, a sight they recognized. It was back there—their old world. This room was just like the one where they’d locked themselves away, turning their backs on everything. It felt the same. The world was closed. The girl opened her mouth.
“What is it to believe? Thou so boastfully claim it is ‘to doubt’…”
Her voice wavered, scared, far removed from her divine dignity. But Sora and Shiro…knew.
They knew this was the girl’s original form.
Having seen the memory— No, even before that. Sora and Shiro had known ever since the game began, since they first met the Old Deus.
Sora and Shiro recognized her eyes ever so slightly peeking through.
Those eyes had a familiarity unbefitting of a higher race, a god.
Sora and Shiro knew those eyes…long ago…
They were the same…the eyes they’d seen staring back at them in the mirror.
Not the eyes of a god or a human. The eyes of someone betrayed, hurt, struggling. A child who did not yet know what she could do, how she could live. That was why…
“—What am I…?”
She could only ask. Begging. Pleading. Blaming.
Born knowing nothing, wishing nothing. Knowing nothing, yet pressed to question infinity. Knowing nothing, yet living, trying to know, and dying. Knowing nothing, yet roused, used, fooled, cheated, and betrayed… And finally, of all things—To doubt is to trust? Were that the case… What meaning had she as a god of doubt…? As she studied this joyful lot and put forward her question laced with loathing…
“Uhhh… Hey, Shiro. Actually, I guess I should ask you, Shrine Maiden.”
…Sora couldn’t take it, so he turned to his sister—and then to the Shrine Maiden.
“I know it’s a bit late, but—let me confess. There’s one thing I never got, all this time.”
Sora sneered at the Shrine Maiden, his gaze reproachful. Sure, he’d managed to figure out this game’s real victory conditions. While there were things he’d failed to predict or straight-up flubbed—he’d even suffered a loss—despite all that, he’d more or less gotten it. But even so—
“What’s the point of the Old Deus playing? I never got that part.”
Well really, you didn’t need a point to play a game, he thought. You didn’t even need a purpose. Prizes and awards? Those were just bonus achievements. You played because you wanted to—no more, no less. So if he had a chance to play with a literal god-tier gamer, he’d instead ask what point, what purpose, there was in not playing. Sora had begun to consider, though, that it seemed this was not the prevailing view (a revelation that fueled in him the proud belief that these days he was becoming more and more mature). Despite his own filter, he realized the Shrine Maiden had bamboozled the Old Deus into participating.
But what had made the Old Deus play? He just didn’t get the point. Why had she gone to such lengths to create this practically cosmic-scale game—?
“…Now, this is crazy, but let me check…”
Sora took a breath.
“Could it be that your friend betrayed you, all, like, I still believe in you, love, pompous as all get out, and you were, like, The hell is that?! You hurt me so bad, and you’re saying you trust me?! Whaddaya mean, trust?! What do you think I can trust? You’d better bet your life on it if you want to prove it to me!! If you’re not gonna, I’m gonna become omniscient and omnipotent and get the answer myseeelf!!” He adopted a convincing impression of a female lead, right down to the dramatic gestures, then switched back. “Right. So don’t tell me that’s all it was, was it?”
“Huh-heh-heh… See? She’s a troublesome one.”
Sora and Shiro shot icy glares at the Shrine Maiden as she cackled.
Sora’d asked the question but already knew the answer. The game was now over, and he’d gotten back his memories collected at the start. His memories indeed verified that, before the game, he’d been asked, What is it to believe?
Baffled as to the question’s meaning, he’d answered, as a matter of course, To doubt. Doubt and faith were synonyms, yet, of all things—she’d demanded he prove it. Figuring she must have been setting them up to smash each other all “prisoner’s dilemma” style, he’d proposed:
How ’bout, if we get the traitor to the goal, your ether stays intact?
It was a game that assumed everyone would betray one another. He’d sarcastically made mention of all kinds of conundrums like the prisoner’s dilemma, but could it be…? Had the detective’s plan, the Old Deus’s plan, been nothing more than a test of the prisoners’—Sora and Shiro’s—faith?!! Come on!
Sora heaved a sigh, his eyes glossed over like a dead fish’s.
“…Grown-ups sure are geniuses at complicating things, huh?”
“Aren’t they? It truly boggles the mind… Huh-heh-heh-heh-heh!”
“What are you laughing about?! You did it to us, didn’t you?!”
“…The root…of all, this evil…was the Shrine Maiden…”
The Shrine Maiden looked away and laughed self-deprecatingly as Sora and Shiro flung accusations at her.
“…You said it. I went and snarled it up. Stupid ol’ me.”
The dusky room creaked in response to her self-mockery. They noticed that with every creak, the room’s master—the girl cowering on her knees—flickered in and out like a candle about fade away.
“…Right, then. Didn’t I say this is where it gets real?”
Having seen the girl’s memory, Sora and Shiro knew what was happening. Now that her covenant with the Shrine Maiden had been severed, she was starting to deny herself. Her finite divine power had been released just for a bit and was now attenuating without end.
“I gave her back the ether I chained by the Covenants. Yet—”
At this rate, she’d disappear again…becoming a sacrifice. That’s why the Shrine Maiden calmly threatened Sora and Shiro, her face bent into a twisted grin.
“If you don’t pull apart this mess we’ve made—you lose. ”
“—Not that I’m one to talk, but you’re actually an awful person, Shrine Maiden…”
“I’m certainly no better than some gamer… Still—”
In a sudden reversal, the Shrine Maiden dropped her voice and looked downcast as she continued, “I was wrong… But even now, I don’t know what I should have done.”
Of course. As long as she was in the Shrine Maiden, the Old Deus wouldn’t disappear. But in the end, all that meant was that she was hanging by the Covenants. She lacked any awareness or perception or answers to her questions—and as soon as the shackles of the Covenants were removed, look what happened. They’d been two in one. Just like Shiro and Sora themselves, the siblings thought. But—there was one critical difference.
“—I still want to help her; I do.” The Shrine Maiden no longer knew if she deserved to call herself a friend, but… “Even if mine were the hand she ultimately reached out for…I still want her to choose whose to grab. But if I don’t know how to get her to do that, and if I can’t—”
Finally, in that splintering room, the Shrine Maiden admitted, “—then I’ll use someone who can, even if it means getting you two mixed up into it.”
Even if, in the end, it isn’t my hand she’s holding…
“She’s too troublesome, too much of a child to even be tossed aside… Say something, will you?”
Even if the girl berated, scorned her, the Shrine Maiden still had something she couldn’t concede. And if she was sure there was someone who could hold that girl’s hand, then she wouldn’t care what anyone thought of her.
Sora and Shiro smirked at the Shrine Maiden.
“Very
well, then. I’ll say it as many times as I want: Don’t screw with us. We got this.”
“…Props…for not…tossing her, aside…this time!”
Sora and Shiro never intended to let the Old Deus die. The Shrine Maiden didn’t have to beg or threaten them. In fact…
“This is some real casual shit to end with. Goddamn anticlimactic.”
Groaning in condescension, Sora and Shiro approached the girl…
The Shrine Maiden watched with slight apprehension as the two of them stepped forward, brimming with confidence. Was it really as simple as they thought? An Old Deus’s very being, their time scale, the depth of their definition of the world—these were all fundamentally different from “living things” such as herself. The polar opposite, even.
That was why, way back then…the Shrine Maiden had been unable to say anything to the girl struggling with questions. She’d bound them together with a complex promise, a winding covenant, that only became further entangled with each exchange they shared, twisted in the chains… And thus was born their bizarre symbiosis, this complicated relationship. She wanted her friend—or, at least, the girl she considered her friend—to laugh, even cry now and then, of her own volition, without the constrictions of the covenant binding her. The Shrine Maiden wanted the girl to have fun in spite of it all. That was why she’d severed that chain—just for that.
She’d had no choice but to make things so complicated.
And yet, the Shrine Maiden still had no idea what she could do after unlocking the shackles. All she could do was to dig her nails into her palms, tighten her fists, and watch as her friend cried pathetically, disappearing. They’d been through the worst together, their lives on the line so many times—for over half a century—and still…
The one thing she knew was that this would be the biggest gamble of her life, perhaps her last. As she stared at Sora and Shiro, the two on whom she’d bet it all, practically praying—
“…Uhhh. So you were asking what a god is—what you are, right? Simply put—” Sora let out a slow sigh, then crouched down near the girl. “Why were you born? What’s your purpose in life? —Pffft!! ”