by Yuu Kamiya
With that, Emir-Eins took Sora’s breath away with one final statement.
“Triumph: Pwnd.”
Uh…true. If Sora had chosen Emir-Eins as his wife, that would essentially mean that he’d admitted it. How could he refute that?!
—How had he overlooked this? No, he knew! It was—!!!!
……I— Huh? Did I choose Emir-Eins as my wife? I mean…did I ever even have a girlfriend?
Yeah, I probably would overlook that. I don’t even have any memory of the premise of the argument!
“Sentimentality: This unit was able to win at any time.”
Regardless, Emir-Eins spoke with confidence, and Sora began to seriously doubt his own memories.
“Analysis: Master requested the unlocking of production mechanism, independent reproduction. Target of independent reproduction not specified. Therefore, goal was to avoid selecting one unit with whom to make babies and instead make babies with all units. Master is incredible.”
—Uh…no, that’s…not right, right?
“Admiration: Master’s unbound libido. Master’s unquenchable prurience. This unit loves it all.”
Sora looked to Shiro for confirmation of his memories, but she was still frozen, apparently not recovered from her shock. Emir-Eins continued her elucidation of what could not be conclusively stated to be a mistaken interpretation.
“Apology: This unit was challenged to prove eligibility for the role of Master’s wife, or else tolerate mistresses. This unit failed that test. Apologies. However, this unit will dedicate resources to equal twelve units in performance. This unit will try her best.”
Emir-Eins’s lowered head slowly rose, and there on the stage—in front of the audience—
“Declaration: Ex Machina wins. Reward is immediate reproduction with unit that emerged victorious. Waiting room before ceremony is preferred environment for wedding dress sex. However, scenario revised to wedding night—”
“Wait, wait, waiiit! A-at least give me a chance to check my memories!”
—Emir-Eins straddled Sora—And so we attend to our marriage bed—prompting him finally to object aloud.
“Rebuttal: Childmaster requested seven thousand children. Urgent task. Select clothed or un—”
“I did not! That much I’m sure of!!”
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that he’d lost his memory. Even so, Sora would never utter a value of that magnitude; that much he knew. So he grabbed Shiro’s hand and started running—
—and was able to resist.
That meant there was no binding force. What a relief. He hadn’t lost! His memories weren’t jacked!
“Hey, Einzig! The hell is this? That broad’s got made-up memories!” Sora hollered as he tumbled backstage at full speed, entirely confident in his words.
So many things about Emir-Eins had felt off to him. The way she didn’t approach him, the way she neutrally observed, so self-assured. It all came together now. The thing was that she, Emir-Eins alone—
“…Referencing memory. It seems that, in her memory…you are already married.”
Einzig’s apologetic remark verified it.
This entire time, only Emir-Eins had been thinking of a different world, a different dimension. Sora should have known. After all, even back when they were at the Shrine, she hadn’t spoken of whom he’d take—only “tonight,” only “anytime”—only when he’d take her! No. Even back when she’d ripped the porn from the tablet, she’d said, This unit will dedicate all resources to becoming the ideal wife for Master. It had already been her assumption that she was his wife!
“…When? Since when?! Since when have you been talking about being my wife?!”
The wedding dress seemed to get in Emir-Eins’s way. It took her a second, and then she caught up with him, but regardless looked at him curiously, still decked out as a bride.
“Reply: Master assigned nickname to this unit.”
“Well, yeah! Am I supposed to call you Alt-Emircluster Befehler 1? Or Ec001Bf9Ö48a2? Give me a break!”
“…B-Brother…how did, you…remember that…?!”
“Examination: Nickname also known as term of endearment. Master holds this unit in high regard.”
Emir-Eins proceeded as if Sora and Shiro’s banter didn’t register with her. But, as she drew her face close, she did answer Sora’s question: Since when?
“Conclusion: This unit holds Master dear. Therefore, Master and this unit are man and wife. Couple. Pair.”
—Since first sight.
Her face drew even closer. Their eyes locked; their lips gradually neared.
…
……BOOM! And IIIII…will always—
“Like hell! What, so you just assumed we were in love from the very beginning?!” Sora screamed.
He took a step back and cut the background music. That scared the crap outta me!
Sora was unnerved by the glimpse into the mind of a true-blue crazed stalker.
“Rebuttal: Assumed? …Negative acknowledgment. Fact.”
“…Honored unit… I command you to check your records and memories for consistency with those of the cluster.”
Einzig dealt a second blow to the bot with more than a few screws loose, but she kept coming.
“Rejection: Cannot accept necessity. Will not share love of—”
“The vote is done. Twelve units agree. Honored unit, I command you to compare your memory now.”
.
Emir-Eins seemed reluctant, but she was unable to oppose the vote of the cluster. After a few seconds, she sighed and shook her head.
“Report: Memory errors confirmed in all units except self. All abnormal. Weird. Crazy.”
You always knew the crazy ones by how they called everyone else crazy. Sora and Shiro, Jibril, Steph, and even all the Ex Machinas looked at Emir-Eins with great skepticism. Regardless, Emir-Eins shook her head and smiled.
“…Hypothesis: Only as examination of hypothesis, which is negligible in probability and assumed false—”
Her facial expression seemed to say, Ah-ha-ha, no way, no way. Ha-ha, that’s impossible. With mannerisms all too human, with a smile so strained you could almost see the sweat going down her cheeks, the mechanical girl examined the hypothesis, as if assessing the possibility that the planet was triangular—
“…Edge case: Umm… Could it be, Master has not…married unit?”
“I have not.”
Sora sent right back the conclusion that the planet was triangular. Appearing dizzied by a flood of errors, the mechanical girl tottered, and yet, she queried on.
“…Confirmation: …Master plans to marry unit.”
“I don’t.”
“Reconfirmation: Master plans to build ideal happy and loving family with—”
“—Me? Over my dead body. Lady, I don’t even remember dating you, nor do I plan to do that!”
Like a pious believer to whom it has just been proven that God does not exist, Emir-Eins at last asked the final question. Her mechanical face was somehow corroded with despair as she spoke.
“……Hypothesis: Unit was wrong…all along?”
“…Yes…!”
“That would seem to be the case! ”
“Well… It seems so.”
“…Yeah… Basically, just yeah… Hff…”
Shiro’s face was angry, Jibril’s scornful, Steph’s sympathetic, and Sora’s convoluted.
……
“Choice: Membership rejected. Acceptable. Then unit will win. Outcome equivalent.”
Emir-Eins headed for the stage.
“Einzig to all units: Autonomous memory deletion detected. Upload backup.”
“—Jawohl.”
Emir-Eins wanted to pretend it never happened. Einzig did not have the kindness to approve her request.
“Hey, wait, never mind that!! Shit, look at the Energy Gauge!!”
“…B-Brother…! W-we’ve, gotta…get on, to the next song!”
The audience’s outcry alerted
Sora and Shiro to the precipitous drop in their Energy Gauge, at which they squealed. It should come as no surprise. They’d brought up a girl literally as beautiful as a doll in a wedding dress, enchanted the audience, and then, of all things, announced she was married. What’s more, they told the crowd the whole show was a farce involving her husband’s infidelity, and then damn near did the deed itself onstage, only for Sora to reject it and run. This was more than a mere fail. If he’d been in their shoes, Sora would’ve likely been pissed enough to start a riot or something!
“H-Holou! Hurry, get back onstage! We’ll push you up a minute!”
They hadn’t a second to lose before the next song, or their Energy would drain completely.
“Report: As calculated. Conformant with original target. Based on…high-level calculations… Eegh…”
Emir-Eins straightened her expression and posture and tried to play cool…and failed.
“Sob: Unit rejected. Unit severely hurt. Requesting permission to self-destruct—rejected. Why…?”
Einzig affected a cool demeanor. He flashed a half smile and whispered:
“This is no time to self-destruct. For now—we have a chance.”
And so the twelfth round began. For the first time, things on the board unfolded the way Einzig and his comrades had calculated. Before all else, Sora and Shiro had to replenish their Energy Gauge so as not to lose on the spot. Which meant they needed an effect strike ASAP—they needed to rush to make the first bad move. In the opening, and just once, it shouldn’t be much of a problem for them to commit a blunder… However.
Light glittered onstage, and the sound warped to dramatic effect. It brought up their Energy Gauge. That it did, but—
“Whaaaaaat?! This only brings us to half?! Get outta here!”
—as Sora screamed, the gauge didn’t go up by very much, while the drain rate remained high. Sora, knowing full well that this was the natural order of things, nevertheless shouted on, pleading.
“I get it! I know how you feel! I totally get it! But c’mon, guys, let’s put it behind us!”
Even the Ex Machinas could recognize that it would not be easy to get the crowd going again once cooled. One or two effect strikes amounted to a drop in the ocean now.
“…B-Brother…! Let me…do the next…effect…strike…”
So, per their words as they flung pieces around dizzyingly, they’d have to spam that shit. Yes—spam shit moves. Three of them, four of them…
“Ngaaah! We’re serious here!! That face of yours pisses me off!!”
“Hmm…? This is our full output, to answer your challenge of love.”
“Then why do you have to keep giving me those flirty homoerotic looks?! Tag out, already!!”
“…B-Brother…we’ve got to…concentrate—!”
As Sora lashed out despite the caution of Shiro, Einzig was sitting pretty. He didn’t have to strike any effects. He could just pounce upon their every blunder. Ex Machina had returned from a contest of worst response to their true calling of best response. And thus, they dominated—waiting intently for their chance. One chance. Ex Machina’s ultimate chance. When it came—it would be Sora and Shiro’s fatal and hopeless peril.
—A single effect strike to end it all.
“On behalf of all the units, I thank you. Your madness has given us the opportunity to answer the challenge of love.”
“Command: Shut up. Explode. Requesting permission to run away—denied… Plea: Hilfe.”
Emir-Eins pushed away the gratitude of all the units and asked for the help of some unknown entity. Even rejecting the synchronization of her thoughts, she partitioned herself off, crouching in a corner backstage. But her sacrifice was nothing before this opportunity—this situation that put Sora and Shiro at an overwhelming disadvantage.
They’d been waiting for their chance. Ironically, it was just as the twelfth song reached its peak.
—It came.
“O Spieler. It is an honor…to answer your challenge of love.”
Einzig spoke from the “heart” as he took the piece to the shining square. All of Ex Machina, excepting the isolated resources of Emir-Eins, had worked synchronously to glimpse this opening. A square that fulfilled all the requirements and conditions, from which Sora and Shiro could never recover.
“With this, we have earned the bonus prize, those precious nude photos of you, Spieler.”
Einzig struck the effect. It was just—
Bzt.
—the same as their first: the effect of no effects, whereby all light and sound was stolen away.
Amidst the soundless silence echoed only the crowd’s murmurs.
All that shone in the pitch-black darkness was the board’s dim glow.
Illuminated by that dim glow were only Sora and Shiro—
“Next, let us earn the special prize: Let us hear your proof that you are not the Spieler, so that we may refute it.”
—and the Ex Machinas, including Einzig, who thus queried uncertainly of his determined victory.
“I see… We have to strike an effect to turn things back, or we’ll lose at the concert.”
“…But, if we…strike an effect…it’s determined…we’ll lose…”
“Hmm. If Shiro says it’s determined, it’s determined. No way to wind that back. You’ve got us there.”
Einzig acknowledged this inwardly: Of course. They’d run the calculations Rayo(33) = Rayo(7625597484987) < Rayo(10100) times. This had yielded them this one perfect chance, whereby the expected values fell into place for every last situational variable. There were 24.2 seconds left in the twelfth song. Even Ex Machina could not pin down how many times squares would flash for Sora and Shiro, or which squares would. But they could estimate the number of times from the trends established over twelve rounds: three going by the mean, two by the median. It was the endgame. Their options were, by nature, very limited, and then to commit a blunder when they were already on the ropes—it would be suicide… Though Sora and Shiro might be the most powerful of gamers, as long as the rules for how the pieces moved stayed the same, they could not escape their fate. If Shiro said it was determined—
“If we strike, we’re out in the chess game, and if we don’t strike, we’re dead in the show… Another double bind, huh?”
Sora’s summation made not only Einzig, but all the Ex Machinas think:
—So this is the best we could do even with such an overwhelming handicap… The Spieler, wielding power overwhelming, well on his way to equaling strength itself, tested us to see if we were suitable for him. We have with difficulty overcome this test—but we have yet to refute his proof of self, which is what we need to earn the right to make babies with him. Sora…must be the Spieler. And it is impossible that he could prove conclusively otherwise.
Despite all that, there was a feeling none of the units could shake. A misgiving.
The reason they played this game in which they stood to lose all. A fear.
In other words: What if he really isn’t the Spieler?
They repressed this fear to seek the proof. As for what came next, however:
“But this time…I ain’t got no ‘nice’ to hand you guys…”
—What…?
“I mean, this isn’t even really a double bind. Look—”
“…D00ds…we just, have to…do…this.”
Sora and Shiro grinned. And, as though it were obvious—like the flowing of the current—they slid a piece through the air. And made their move.
It was just—inevitable.
It was just—invincible.
They pounced right upon the blunder Ex Machina had made—to turn it all around—to put Ex Machina on the ropes.
“A blunder in the endgame is fatal. And not just for us.”
“…We’re…done…making, effect strikes…”
Sora and Shiro smiled, and Einzig gave a slight grin back.
—I see. Now he has us at an overwhelming disadvantage—no, all but cornered in this round.
But that will only give them six victories…still short of ultimate victory as the failure of the concert brings them to a loss. A loss he cannot avoid. So he chooses to lose winning at chess, surpassing our calculations. Truly, he is the Spieler… Not one to go down easily…
Then Sora interrupted Einzig’s thoughts.
“Okay, fine, there’s one way we can give you a ‘nice.’”
The siblings sneered as they said in unison:
““…Nice try, n00bs… ””
Simultaneously, as if on cue, a voice sang out, and Einzig opened his eyes wide as he directed his gaze to the stage.
Suddenly, in the muted darkness that enveloped the venue, on the stage wreathed in shadow, Holou stood idle, staring at the audience. The restless audience… No. In her divine eyes, which saw that which could not be seen, was only one spectator: the golden fox, the Werebeast. Her host. The Shrine Maiden. Holou’s friend.
The beast’s eyes, too, saw through the darkness, and they looked to the stage. To her. To Holou, who didn’t know what to do. Those eyes stared at her; that face Holou knew—the one she knew so well.
That unease. That worry. That face, the face of one who cursed her own lack of power—that face, for the first time in the eons Holou had seen, caused her to articulate this feeling clearly: The pained expression upon the face of her dear friend…was one she’d never wanted to see again—
She wanted it not!!
That instant, in the venue enveloped in muted darkness, a little light and a faint voice started. There was no accompaniment, no effects, only the delicate torch Holou lit herself and the voice with which she sang.
…It was terribly amateurish. It was shaky, awkward. But she sang on, dedicated, reaching and swaying and groping for something. There was something about it…something that bled right into you, something that filled you… Everyone listened intently.