by Yuu Kamiya
“…Your deviousness is so reliable, it makes my head hurt…”
“But!! That is only the beginning…!”
Sora boldly ignored Steph to lay out his grand aspiration, his endless end!
“Before long, we shall install relay devices not only throughout Elkia and Eastern Union, but throughout the entire Commonwealth!!”
Like TV or radio. They’d make Holou’s song boom over every realm!
“Even the assembled technology of the Commonwealth of Elkia is not yet able to achieve this… But—”
Sora’s eyes burned with the ambition to make it happen—
“Ohhh! Ahhh… Dear one… Why are you so cold…?”
—and suddenly reflected an unpleasant piece of junk that appeared before him, nose to nose, finger lifting Sora’s chin, teeth sparkling.
“You desire such a device… Heh, such a challenge is nothing before my power of love.”
“Don’t we have any other power source?! Hey, why are you even still here?!”
—I mentioned that Ex Machina had gone somewhere. Sorry, I lied. Most regrettably, there was one unit still here, for some reason, and it was Einzig.
But then…when you thought about it, it would be a waste for Ex Machina to leave. After all, their power was enough to take care of everything, for they were the perfect stage equipment. In fact, there had been plans to bring them properly into the Commonwealth fold in the future—
“Why? Hmm… What is there to wonder about a man desiring to stay by the side of the one he loves?!”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m—not—your—guy! I thought I bound you by the Covenants to abandon—”
“No. I understand now. You are not the Spieler… You are Sora.” Einzig smiled as if sentimentally accepting everything. “Set your mind at ease. For my love is pure and proper—I am in love with you!!”
“That does not put my mind at ease!”
—Why? Why did it have to be him? The trope was that the girls were still there. At the very least, that wasn’t the kind of line you’d hear from a guy!! Sora cursed this world that betrayed every sacred expectation geek culture had given him.
“…I must apologize. I will impose on you but one last time, of reluctance to part. It would honor me if you could overlook it.” Einzig’s tone had turned wistful. Yet, he concluded with an even brighter smile. “…I shall follow the other units—back to our base.” Turning on his heel, Einzig went on with a brisk voice. “Reproduction must now be my top priority…to produce the new Einzig, who will succeed this one who has long since passed his limits. Therefore, this is the time to set your mind at ease…for this will surely be our last meeting.”
“……”
Einzig walked off with his back to them. “It is true… My dearest, you are not the Spieler. But—” Still, he spoke loud and clear. “You are the Nachfolger. And we will never go back on our word again.”
—We have come to assist you. We are your allies.
The weight of his words brought to mind what he told them when they first met.
“Ex Machina will always be your ally. When you rise again to topple the world, we shall run to your aid,” Einzig declared, still walking. “…It might not be I. But whoever we are, we will bring you victory.” Yes: “Next time. This time, we will not go back on our word.”
“…We can’t make you wait that long.”
The machine that had chased one hope 5,982 years past the end of his service life now departed without turning. No—the man, who now meant to say good-bye.
“You hung in there for 5,982 years. Just hang in a little longer… See ya.”
“…Bye-bye… Let’s…play again…sometime, ’kay…?”
Still, their amiable words did not turn him back. Gallant and attractive, the only reply was a slight chuckle. Sora decided not to notice the trace of tears…
……
“Man, like, those guys were pretty hardcore. I mean, they were annoying and awkward, but…”
As Einzig’s form receded from view, Sora thought back on the machines with hearts and came to a conclusion. They’d embraced paradox and become like people—just as awkward.
—But perhaps more pure. They had persisted in an unfulfilled love for one they knew was gone…for thousands of years.
“…I guess I can see how the epic gamer who ended the war could’ve fallen in love with them.”
Sora so candidly summed things up, and Shiro and Steph chuckled and nodded softly—
—when.
“Hypothesis: If love specified for abandonment in previous game limited to Spieler…”
Gah!
A monotone voice echoed from behind the throne, practically making everyone scream.
“Corollary: …Then Master intended loophole to allow love of this unit for Master. Inescapable conclusion.”
That optical camouflage shit again? The maid robot materialized, her violet hair and skirt fluttering. Yes…it was the heretic of the heathens, Emir-Eins, carefully aiming her finger-gun at Sora’s heart.
“Determination and Confirmation: Master is in love with this unit. Bang.”
Her deadpan wink worked surprisingly well as she expressed the firing of hearts or something from her finger. But Sora, the word miss rising from his head as the poorly aimed shot passed him by, replied:
“Emir-Eins? Huh? You’re here, too?!”
“Acknowledgment: Always.”
“Even Einzig left! What are you doing here?!”
“Rejoinder: This unit is Master’s wife.”
“I’m—not—your—guy. How many times do we have to go through this? Did you delete and rewrite your memory again?!”
As Sora clutched his head and groaned at her hopeless persistence, she grew flustered— No.
“Panic: Misunderstanding inferred. Previous statement was not fact, but rather, the desire of this unit.”
“Oh, so you do get it…”
Expressing panic only verbally, Emir-Eins corrected herself placidly.
“Summary: Ex Machina lost. Unit re…rejected by Master… Fatal misunderstanding… Chassis temperature elevated: Shame detected. Erasing memory—failed. Already disconnected; how… Hilfe.”
Despite her calm tone, the contents of her summary grew more and more distraught, to the point that smoke began to rise from her. After finally begging for help, she dropped her head limp like a puppet with a broken string, like a person tortured by the recollection of her humiliating past—but she didn’t leave Sora and Shiro time to worry.
“Defiance: Still. This world provides option ‘try again.’ So. Therefore. This unit.”
She raised her head again and looked straight at Sora with those glass eyes. While her hands shook, clenched together at her chest—did she notice?
“Wish: Again. This unit will express feelings to Master. Attempt this time…… Okay?”
Emir-Eins was begging, pleading for a rematch. As a gamer, how could he shut her down?
“…Ah, fine. But just one more time. And if you still get pwnd, let’s play a different game.”
To begin with, she’d just thought he was some other guy and fallen for him as an extension of that. If they were going to play again, Sora wanted her to play them, he implied. Emir-Eins plucked up her skirt, took a deep curtsy, and hummed:
“Lösen—Org. n—Checkmartyr—”
Then she took a deep breath. No—Ex Machinas don’t need to breathe. In that case…it looked to Sora as if she was steeling herself, shaking off her uncertainty and unease. Then, as had happened so many times before, everything around them was rewritten, and everyone braced themselves.
—However.
“Hesitation: Master… No. Contingency judged to require name correction—”
Emir-Eins just stepped, stepped toward him hesitantly. Nothing, not the scenery, not the time, nothing had changed. Not her appearance, not her voice, and not her dress—as she approached him. Not the Spieler. Not her Master. Him.
&nbs
p; “Identification: Unique and singular target, name: Sora…”
Yes—she called his name. She gingerly extended her trembling hands toward his torso and hesitantly squeezed as she buried her face in his chest. Rubbing it this way and that…as if to feel his heartbeat with every fiber of her being—
—she said only this:
“—Confession: This unit loves Sora.”
……
…………Uh. This was not good. Sora’s arms almost reflexively hugged her back, but he just managed to stop them. He applied his gaping, cracked diamond of reason as he looked upon the transcender who had at last reached truth. Truth. Yes. Like Holou. You could write out the most eloquent poetry of love in the finest calligraphy; you could present a thousand bouquets in front of a full orchestra. You could decorate your words with the most perfect grasp of preferences, conditions, and tastes…and still.
—They could never compare to this inexpert, artless, and desperately brief outpouring of desire from a single girl. They could never compare—to this truth—
The self-evident truth, that is, that this shit was like a hammer upon the diamond rationalization of his pathetic virginity that threatened to smash it to pieces—!! Damn…he’d never had anyone straight-up tell him they liked him before… Sora imprinted on her and was about to say, “I’ve always loved you, too”—
“Reiteration: This unit loves Sora. This unit is in love with Sora…”
—when his diamond was saved from certain destruction—only to be struck again—that is…
“Effervescence: This unit loves you. This unit loves you. This unit loves Master. This unit loves Sora. This unit loves you. This unit loves everything about you. This unit loves the way you are. This unit loves your eyes, your thoughts. This unit proposes hypothesis that unit wishes to be one with Master. This unit is capable of fusion by neutralization of spiritual boundaries—this unit is amazing. This unit congratulates self. Request to Zeichner. Oh. Unit was disconnected—”
“D00d, d00d, d00d, you’re freaking me out— Shit, you’re hot! Ow, I mean, literally, you’re literally burning me!”
His diamond was struck by a machine that was clearly out of control. It was enough to make him get those cracks in his reason patched up as he cried out. At length, his shriek managed to return Emir-Eins to her senses, if we are to judge from her gasp—
“Examination: Not yet able to control these feelings. Unfortunate accident. No one is at fault.”
She backed off and frantically collected herself—or rather.
“Correction: Master responsible for being warm. Master should think long and hard. However, unit delighted. Yay.”
“D00d, you actually haven’t changed at all, have you?! You’re just as married-to-me-in-your-head as you were when we first met!!”
The maid robot showed a perfect example of how to pass the blame, at which Sora squealed.
“Negative acknowledgment: This unit has not won. Yet. But this unit will try again. Indefinitely. This unit will do her best.”
They’d play a different game if he pwnd her… But…he hadn’t pwnd her. Emir-Eins made that clear—with a tiny, tiny smile. At which, abruptly, a murderous aura rose from beside Sora.
“…Where…did you learn…that, tactic…?!” Shiro growled like a wild beast faced with her natural enemy, her red eyes burning. “…Brother, didn’t have this…shoujo manga crap…in his porn…!!”
Sora wasn’t sure what was making Shiro so mad. But come to think of it, sure… Ex Machina had used his porn as a guide to approach him. He himself didn’t have a complete grasp of all the scenarios and content that had been in his collection. But if Shiro, with her photographic memory, said he didn’t, then…presumably he didn’t. Though one could not but shed a small tear at the fact that his little sister had memorized his porn.
“Reply: For this trial, unit sampled advice of woman…”
“…Hnguh? Uh, m-me?”
Since no one really cared about Sora’s tears, Emir-Eins proceeded to point out the source of her information. Then something seemed to occur to her. She must have searched her memory and found no entry for Steph’s real name.
“Request: Informal naming system not compatible with Ex Machina processing. Rename.”
“Did someone finally just tell me to abandon my name?! It’s Stephanie Dola!”
“Deprecation: Disclosing most useful information from advice of entity provisionally labeled Unknown.”
Sora began to weep, bringing the total number of people with tears in their eyes to two, including Steph. Emir-Eins continued on indifferently.
“Elucidation: Master permits lies, jokes—but not lies to self.”
Then, with a “Therefore,” Emir-Eins smiled faintly.
Even Sora, who was so good at reading people, could just barely follow what she was saying. But in the end, he didn’t know what it meant. She kept grinning. It was a declaration of war against all other women.
“Pledge: Until precise moment functional life of this unit ends, this unit will never hide her love.”
“…?!”
“—Uh, whaaa…?!”
Emir-Eins left Shiro and Steph speechless and pale as she turned.
“Estimation: If this unit restricts operational output—this unit can operate six whole years more.”
With that, she faced Sora again and took an elegant obeisance with the implication, See you again. As for Shiro and Steph, she gave them a glance, with an expression that this time was clear. It was a sneer.
“Determination: This unit will not lose—to foes who are not true to themselves. Easy. No sweat.”
Well, then. What’s wrong? Smile, Sora, virgin, age eighteen. Ex Machina’s still here! And just as you wanted, you’ve got your perfect stage equipment, and she’s a girl! Not even a girl who thinks you’re someone else, but one who’s spelled out in no uncertain terms that she loves you. You’ve come all this way surrounded by gorgeous girls and women from many races, and yet, this is the first time one has said she loves you. Weren’t you looking forward to this? Was this not the trope you desired?
It was just that…this girl seemed a little bit…off. Wicked enough to, for some reason, look at Shiro and Steph as if they murdered her parents. Imagining what would happen if Jibril showed up gave him the chills…and…another thing. For some reason, it seemed as if everyone was looking at him as if they wanted to stab him now… Hmm…
“Man…how do alternate-world protags maintain their harems?”
Sora decided that, at any rate, he wasn’t up to it. That much he knew for now. Instead, he focused all his energy on how to get out of this situation.
This commotion now behind him…Einzig chuckled, acknowledging his jealousy for Emir-Eins. He walked slowly so as to record every bit of this scenery he might never see again. In this city, built up by their distant descendants, which could be expected to endure—
“…O thou. Ex Machina. Presumed to be individually named Einzig…”
—someone was standing there, so naturally to the point that it seemed unnatural. Out of place in a city of Immanities, yet, as if she belonged there. With her inkpot, a god in the shape of a little girl…Holou spoke.
“Thy advice hath enabled Holou to form a provisional hypothesis as to the nature of hope and wishes…methinks.”
“…………”
As Einzig stood silently, overcome by a strange sensation, Holou heedlessly failed to get her words out repeatedly. What was it she wanted to say? What was it she wanted to tell him? She seemed to guess hundreds of millions of times and verify each guess—
“…Holou hypothesizes…she must convey thanks… Gratitude!”
Awkwardly, but with a smile, she got her point across. Einzig— No, Ex Machina…replied:
“A god is a god for that she is a god. Therefore, we shall never be able to answer thy question.”
Puzzled by this unprompted utterance, Holou cocked her head to one side. But even the speaker himself did not kno
w its meaning any more than she did. They continued speaking as if their voices were merely being played back, their thoughts clouded by noise.
“But we shall reply to thy doubt. Doubt is the heart. Therefore, thou who questionest the doubt art the heart.”
Einzig did not know. None of the surviving units did.
“Thou art she who resolveth the will. Thou art she who wisheth for hope. Thou art she who is life in all who have hearts. Yet, thou art she who doth not perceive it.”
Only one person knew the question that Ex Machina had been unable to answer for eons.
“Thus, let us now answer thy question of that distant day.”
“Our answer: If thou wilt hear us…we will talk.”
The question was known only to that god who had asked it, who now stood wide-eyed. It was an answer to Holou’s former self, the Holou from a past far too long ago to conceive.
“…O ye, is it as suspected…? Are ye the machines of that day…?”
Holou gave a bitter smile. Even after filtering the noise, Einzig couldn’t grasp what she meant. The machine man turned his head as he suspected a failure of severity exceeding that which had been detected by his self-diagnostics, yet—
“I must thank thee again. However— Holou…is fine now!”
He felt strangely convinced by Holou’s smile. He left her just a narrow-eyed smile in return and slipped away into space.
“…Accursed Tet. Foul knave… Thou dare call Holou too fast?” Holou mumbled, grinning. It was just her now.
“How perverse! Holou is outstripped by her own creations!”
Loaded once more now, the memory, as ever, had a number of consistency errors. It must have been all the damage and logical faults: The data was inordinately abstract and fuzzy. But even Azril, no, everything that had been alive that day had heard it.