by Yuu Kamiya
“…They even managed to get the kids who weren’t cooperative with them to do what they wanted… They’re really something.”
It was impressive, she admitted. It was no wonder they were busy. But—
“Does it take that much time to help me?! Can’t they spare even two seconds for meeee?!”
—Now she was sure. They hated her.
This place deep in her city would be her grave.
“Hmph… There is no hope or salvation in this world. Everyone is alone in the deep darkness of despair.”
Waxing poetic, she made up her mind to wither there.
“…I never would have expected you to attempt poetry, my elder. Did you hit your head?”
When she raised her head, there was a light at the end of the darkness. A literal angel, walking to her and speaking.
“Oh, you’ve hit every place on your body. Well, that’s all right. It did take me some time to find you, though.”
“J-Jibsy… Y-you came to look for your big sister…?”
“Well, yes, though I’d prefer it weren’t necessary. I hope you won’t give me too much trouble, but…”
Without any trouble at all, Jibril teleported Azril out of the crack and saved her. Azril took back her words and apologized to the world she had cursed. Not just anyone, but her youngest, dearest sister had come to save her—!!
“Hope and salvation are real! Here they are! The world is full of light, and— Ngyah?!”
Blubbering and leaping at Jibril, Azril instead slammed into a wall with her face.
“I knew it! This is where it was… What a waste of time…”
Having warped out of the way as if it were the obvious thing to do, Jibril sighed, book in hand. That was one of the books Azril had when she fell, wasn’t it?
“…………Nyah? Hrh?”
Azril was dazed. Huh? Huh? Her thoughts spun in futility.
“…Uhhh… Huh? Jibsy… You came to…look for me?”
“Yes, Elder. I heard that you had this book when you slipped and fell, so I— Oh, I see! Pardon me. I apologize for my misleading phrasing. Let me correct myself.” Jibril glowed. Ah…her smile was indeed that of an angel. “I came to look for this book. I did not come to look for you, and I do not plan on doing so in the future. ”
—Darkness fell once more over the world. Up and down, nya-ha… I knew this world was crap…
“Well then, my masters are waiting, so I’ll be on my way.”
“Nyaaah! Waiiit, Jibsy, I beg you! At least carry me up—”
Azril grabbed Jibril tearfully as she caught her getting ready to shift far away. Then.
“……Jibsy. Why were you looking for that book?”
Azril cut herself short and narrowed her eyes to ask. It was a copy of an Ancient Dwarven book. Azril, no more designed to forget than any of the other Flügel, knew its contents word for word.
“My masters have been troubled by certain dolls. I thought I might give it another read to see if any clues presented themselves.”
—Yes. She was looking for writings about Ex Machina. And with that, she vanished into thin air.
……
Azril was once more left at the bottom of the city, alone in the dark.
“…Nyaaah? …Those scrap heaps…in Elkiaaa…?
But her voice came from lower than the bottom, and her smile’s shadow was deeper than the dark. Avant Heim himself swayed at this very different leader of Flügel. Like an earthquake of the heavens. As if you could hear fathomless malice. A vortex of emotion was swelling into view. With one word—
“Gather.”
—all the other Flügel except Jibril knelt before her that very instant. Azril, the first of the Flügel, the weapon created by a god to slay gods, what boomed from her was neither a plea nor a request. It was an order.
“We’ll shift Avant Heim to Elkia. Everyone get ready!”
Warp a landmass far larger than an island in its entirety to the next continent across the sea. What a bullshit order from a bullshit being. But all prepared without objection. Azril alone spoke:
“…Jibsy. Av’n’ and I would love to meet those rubbish dolls.”
Her murmur with a plastered smile was echoed by the cry of Avant Heim, which should have been as comforting as that of a whale but now brayed so as to make all who heard it shrink.
“I’m thinking we can talk. I figure we can have a fun chat.”
…Yes. A fun chat would be desirable. Even Azril had finally begun to enjoy things. It wasn’t the time she wanted to make enemies of Elkia, Sora, Shiro, or, heaven forbid, Jibril. It would be best to settle things peacefully if possible. Though of course—
“If it’s not fun…I’ll kill them till there’s not a speck of dust left. ”
—that was just provided it was possible.
CHAPTER 2
RETRODUCTION
It was in the Eastern Union’s capital island—its capital city, Kannagari. There lived the Eastern Union’s creator, a golden fox whose residence was known as the Shrine. Currently, in this place where Werebeasts came to venerate her much as a living god—
“…You lot… I’ve been trying my best to keep my mouth shut, but…”
—there was the fox, first of all, whose patience at last wore thin as she finally opened her mouth to speak. She was a woman with a monocle and fox ears, her two large tails covered in lustrous fur. The founder of the Eastern Union and the agent plenipotentiary of Werebeast, the Shrine Maiden, watched—
“Hmm? Oh, we’re just makin’ ourselves at home. Don’t mind us.”
“…Keep calm…and carry on…”
“That you would fail to provide us with the grace of tea speaks volumes about the quality of your country, does it not? …Oh. Pardon, now that I think about it, I should scarcely enjoy to be served pet food. I must then commend you on your excellent discernment of your place.”
—as the group that had warped into the Shrine out of nowhere, without any proper greeting, had proceeded to lounge on the sofas quite at ease. They were Sora and Shiro, and the smiling Flügel Jibril, who scarcely had the standing to lecture anyone about politeness. One other personage was observing this brazen bunch.
“Holy Shrine Maiden. All you must say is ‘Get out,’ and I shall expel these ruffians posthaste.”
It was the aging Werebeast Ino Hatsuse, smiling as a blood vessel or two bulged from his face. Meanwhile, warping behind him upside down, Jibril went on smiling back.
“Dear me. It seems a little doggy has announced that he will expel my masters and their humble servant, yours truly. I must be hearing things. Typically, even animals are able to exercise proper judgment in whom they bite. ”
“Ha-ha-ha, pardon me; I had imagined that even a birdbrain would understand the Ten Covenants. However, put your mind at ease. Even uncomprehending riffraff such as yourselves will be swiftly removed from the property of the Holy Shrine Maiden upon the retraction of your permission to stay.”
—We still have a long way to go toward racial harmony, reflected Sora, Shiro, and the Shrine Maiden.
Once Ino had finished exchanging piercing glares with Jibril, he turned to Sora and Shiro.
“I expected that even you hairless monkeys would have perceived that there were more important matters at the current juncture.”
This section of the Shrine they had all gathered in was called the Annex. Looking up, they saw five screens of various sizes suspended from the ceiling. On them were five Werebeasts, presumably representing the Eastern Union in games. One of those Werebeasts they knew well.
Fennec fox ears and a big tail. A little girl, now crimson all over. It was Izuna Hatsuse in bloodbreak mode, running around the cyberspace city in heated virtual battle.
“…Dwarf? …Hardenfell? Looks like an ass-handing.”
It was the first time Sora had seen them, but, from the physical characteristics, it would appear that the opponent was Ixseed Rank Eight, Dwarf. A high race just below Elf—but against Izuna, they weren�
�t playing around so much as being played with. Other screens showed other opponents, but they were pretty much all getting rekt.
“This I’ll thank you for, loves. We’ve got all our bloodbreakers out in the field, with the exception of us two old ones. And the fish are biting.”
The Eastern Union had its full-dive VR games and its best gamers in full operation. They didn’t have time to chop all the fish that were coming for their block, looking, presumably, for hints as to Sora and Shiro’s true nature. So, as she of course grasped that Sora and Shiro were the ones behind it and acknowledged her indebtedness—
“So? You come knowing that we’re busy, and you’re in the way… Might I ask what you’re after?”
—she first gave a chuckle at Izuna’s leaping for joy at victory and then, back in her rhythm, she turned back to Sora and Shiro and asked.
“Sure. Frankly, we’re just really uncomfortable at the castle right now. Like, scared. So we came to hide here. You see…”
Sora’s voice suddenly dropped an octave. The Shrine Maiden and Ino narrowed their eyes.
“This shit is actually kinda serious. We need your help—especially Gramps’.”
“…Mine, you say…?”
—The Shrine Maiden and Ino knew a thing or two about Sora by now. Sora, who always acted so aloof, so comfortable and audacious—was actually just a poseur. He’d never say it himself, and he’d never admit to it. But he knew this all too well, and since he had no mind to belie his true nature, certain others—Shiro, for starters—knew it, too. There had never been a time Sora was comfortable. Not once. He was always serious, always trying hard, searching desperately for ways out, clinging for dear life to Shiro. For this man to be evidently uncomfortable, and, of all things, to ask Ino Hatsuse for help… Anyone could see it was no trifle that Sora was most solemn to introduce.
“—I’m too popular. With maid robots. Save me.”
“…………”
I’m too popular. Ah, one of those lines all male-born individuals would like to say at least once. A line that, when actually heard from another, inspires the will to punch him in the face with all one’s might. But, ah… At last Sora felt he understood. I’m too popular. I’ve got too much money. Those were the lines—but! When you were actually in a position to say those lines, it really wasn’t awesome at all!! Those guys actually had real problems. Serious problems! Far too grave to be written off with envy and an “I wish…”!!
“King Sora, it sounds as if the situation is in fact quite serious. Allow me, Ino Hatsuse, to provide what little succor I can.”
As the agonized Sora wept internally, Ino gallantly nodded and placed his hand on his shoulder. With a warm and trusting smile, he added:
“If I may, Your Majesty… There is not a soul in heaven or on earth who would love you. Please rein yourself in. This is a mere obsessive fantasy, an idle delusion. I suggest that you take a nice, long rest.”
Ino’s pitying eyes made the subtext clear: Those babes of yours exist only in your imagination.
“…Ino Hatsuse. Fetch my private physician…”
“I am at your bidding, O Holy Shrine Maiden, but is this not the ideal opportunity to allow King Sora to pass away?”
“You say the chief of the Commonwealth is delirious? Think of what it could mean for our country. Let’s have him die some other—”
Sora would have interposed in the free discourse of the two.
“…Acquiring Master. Lösen: Asura-Apokryphon.”
However, another person’s voice echoed from the void, their presence speaking much louder than words—
“Discovery: Master located at last. Reward: Explain reason for move to these coordinates.”
A maid robot stood in the Annex of the Shrine as if she’d been there all along: the violet-haired Ex Machina, Emir-Eins, tilting her head quizzically. In contrast, gaping even more bewilderedly than the Shrine Maiden or Ino—
“Hey, wai— How’d you figure out…? How’d you even get here?!”
—Sora thought better than to answer, Because I wanted to get away from you guys.
“Reply: Reopened fissure in space left by Irregular Number. Time elapsed. Apologies for making Master wait.”
Emir-Eins apologized for entirely the wrong thing, and Jibril’s face appeared strained. Jibril had shifted them someplace Ex Machina wouldn’t be able to, as they couldn’t see the place and didn’t know it. She’d thought they wouldn’t even be able to track them, yet they’d reopened her hole in space. It hadn’t even taken an hour. One could hardly imagine Jibril’s mental state, but—
“…It seems…I have underestimated my opponent once more…”
—given the murderous intent in her voice, it was quite clear that her pride had taken a hit—
“—Wha…? Is it Ex Machina?! How—?!”
—all the while, Ino had recovered from stupor enough to shout, and the Shrine Maiden was now on her guard. But leaving all that in the dust, Emir-Eins— No, the Ex Machina just proceeded indifferently. That is to say:
“Lösen: Love Success Situation Forme—Checkmartyr—Prototype 0008.”
This came not from Emir-Eins’s mouth, but once again from the void—from several voices. This time, the interior of the Annex of the Shrine was rewritten into a different world. In contrast to the Shrine Maiden and Ino, who watched aghast, Sora and Shiro watched calmly, sighing:
—Seriously. These guys could make the perfect stage equipment.
The events unfolding further confirmed Jibril’s records. And just as the echoing voice had said, this was the eighth time this space-rewriting shit had gone down. Ninth, if you counted when they first showed up. It was getting old. Per the book’s writings, it seemed they added matter to rewrite the scenery without changing the matter that was there. Complex lines raced through space, forming polygons, rendering images. Intermittently, chaotically, yet steadily, that which lay above the surfaces of matter—the void—was filled at high speed by the 3-D textures spat out by Ex Machina to build a virtual environment.
…Make no mistake, this was still the Annex of the Shrine. Still matted with tatami. But no one would think it was in this state—not even the Shrine Maiden, who lived here. Time, space, nay, causality itself were transcended to loose a sight to behold—
“………”
First, there was Sora, suddenly clad in a suit.
“…You wanna see my panties? I’ll show them to you… Because I love you, Teacher… “
“Oh, no faaair! Teacher’s thing belongs to me! Right, Teacher? “
“Um, Teacher? When I think about you, I start to feel all funny…down here. I wonder why?”
“Teacher! I want you to give me another…private health lesson. “
Then there were girls wearing backpacks, spouting out lines that would be difficult to write while sober.
…Altogether, there were eleven schoolgirls as small as Shiro—or even smaller—who we are certainly not saying were elementary school–aged. So here they were, after school in a virtual elementary school. Among the transfigured Ex Machinas was a quiet girl in glasses and a tough little tomboy. But all were in fierce competition for their one true love, Mr. Sora, and a certain “fatal act.” Something like that.
…A fearsome power had created an even more fearsome and ridiculous sight. Everyone was dumbfounded. Only the girls in question continued to clamor on.
“Ooooh… We’ll never settle this at this rate…”
“Okay, then whoever makes Teacher feel the best gets to keep him!”
“Okaaay!”
“All righhht, I’m not gonna lose, so watch my smooth, flat little—”
“Like hell, it’s okay!! Knock it off, you psychos!!”
As their folly approached its inevitable conclusion—We should all just do it first!—and the little girls began to pull off their clothes, at last, Sora’s mighty roar shook the classroom.
“Hell no, hell no! I’m not doing it with any of you! And none of y
ou gets to keep me, okay?!”
At the back of the classroom were Shiro, seated with her hand on her cheek; the Shrine Maiden in a sailor uniform; and Ino, practically busting out of his schoolboy uniform. They were all staring at Sora as if he were dirt, and Sora yelled as if it were capable of chasing this fact from his awareness.
“Why nottt?! Because we’re kids?!”
“Don’t you know all characters depicted are age eighteen or over?!”
“Shut the hell uuup! That’s not even the issue! All the organizations and important people and stuff, they never listen to that kind of logic; if you’re gonna do that kind of crap, you gotta gate it at least! You wanna get me locked up?!”
After shouting the little girls down, at last, Sora clutched his head and pleaded:
“…Please. I’m begging ya. Just, get lost for a while… ’Kay? …Seriously.”
As if they’d finally concluded that he meant it, the polygons broke. The sunset classroom turned back into the good old tatami room as if nothing had happened, and the self-described elementary school students of most dubious legality reverted compliantly to their proper forms. Back in the Annex of the Shrine with eleven non-loli maid robots, transcendental computers far beyond oracle machines—scratch that, beyond hypercomputers—used their staggering power for purposes most pointless and analyzed the data without evident emotion. So—
* * *
“—Target sexual arousal index curve analyzed. Resistance factor speculated. Initiating adjustment deliberation.”
“Sexual arousal confirmed above baseline. Moral conflict speculated. Searching for solution.”
—Having freely laid bare Sora’s sexual predilections, they calmly began shifting home.
“Hey, don’t just slander me and then leave!! King Sora loves boobies, too, y’know?!”
Sora stood in the Annex of the Shrine, screaming at the sky as the veritable shitstorm faded into nothingness, and then there was silence.
…Uh…
“…So. Would you care to explain?”
“Explain what? I told you, I’m just too popular with maid robots!”