INTERLUDE FIVE

People slammed to the ground, one by one.

In the cold downpour, without resistance, without noise, without blood, without screams—only the sound of people collapsing traveled through the dark, dark streets that night. Every one of them an adult wearing shock-resistant armored clothing. The bald streetlights illuminated their firearms in puddles with glares.

They were Anti-Skill officers, tasked with the security of Academy City.

The fallen didn’t move.

Not even a fingertip.

But near them could be heard short, quick footsteps.

As though weaving between the victims, lying quietly on the wet road, was the slender silhouette of a woman moving languidly across the rainy streets.

The woman under the streetlights didn’t have an umbrella. The thin, threadlike rain struck her slim, young-looking figure. She wore a woman’s kirtle, a kind of clothing that gave birth to the dress. She also had a thin leather belt on her waist, along with detachable sleeves running from her wrists to her upper arms. Think of it as a glorified version of what bank and mail clerks wear. On her head was a simple hood, hiding all her hair.

If one had some interest in history or archaeology, they might have pinned it as the common garb of a French citizen around the fifteenth century.

However, because its main color was a gaudy yellow, one couldn’t call it archetypical, either.

A subtle jingling of metal could be heard.

It came from the piercings in the woman’s face. She had holes in her ears, obviously—but also her nose, lips, and even her eyelids. Her lips opened, and she stuck out her tongue, letting a chain fall from it. A small necklace-like chain linked to the opening in her tongue and reached down to waist level. A cross-shaped charm hung from it.

It had all been done in the knowledge that she was ruining her face.

In Crossism, “metal piercing” held deep meaning. Originally, the Son of God had been pierced with nails and lances when he was martyred. By carefully selecting the places to pierce, it was possible to freely construct certain spells, too.

“Hmm.”

The woman, face fully pierced, looked around her, then kicked a wireless radio at her feet into the air. She caught the spinning, square device with one hand. The feeling of mud made her frown slightly.

She twirled the radio in her hand like a pistol, then brought her mouth near the microphone.

As if whispering into someone’s ear, she spoke.

“Helllloooo, Aleister?”

With a buzz of static, the voice of a worried Anti-Skill officer came back. But the woman ignored everything he said, as if addressing somebody who couldn’t have been listening.

“I bet you’ve wormed into all these regular lines. I’d really appreciate it if you talked to me already.”

Bzzt came the sound of a switch flipping.

The sound quality immediately cleared up.

“What is it?”

“Oh, if you really want to know, I guess I can tell you.”

“Just to confirm, you didn’t actually think I’d fall for a taunt like that, did you?”

“Sure did. I’ve already stomped on three General Board faces, and you wouldn’t respond to that.” She spun the radio around and around in her hand. Her face held a hint of disappointment. “There’s only twelve on the General Board, right?”

“We can replace as many of them as we need.”

“My, how scandalous.”

“I have many ways to deal with it.”

“You know, Aleister. I’ve been thinking. Maybe you don’t actually exist. Maybe you’re just a 3-D image, or maybe you just put a weird machine in your corpse and use that to move.”

“Dreamlike assertions. You’re no scholar—you’re suitable as an innovator.”

“The collective will of the General Board is hidden behind your opinions…or so I thought, but huh, guess I was wrong. You don’t seem flustered at all.

“Maybe I’ll just crush a few more of ’em, then,” she muttered.

The radio remained silent.

It was like he’d said it would take more than that to affect him.

“Well, whatever. You know my name?”

“Perhaps. I do make it a point to investigate the likes of rebels and thieves.”

“God’s Right Seat.”

Smoothly.

The woman named the strongest, most deeply rooted organization on the sorcery side.

A single name, sunken into the depths of the dark of the dark of the dark of the dark of the dark of the dark of the dark of the dark of the world’s largest religious order, the Roman Orthodox Church. Even among its two billion followers, only a handful knew the name. As for those who did know it, if they were judged “unworthy of knowing,” they were immediately put to death. The term held that much secrecy.

But Aleister replied smoothly, too.

With no sign of emotion.

“Well, now. A group labeled terrorists had a name like that, didn’t they?”

“Hmm.”

“This seems a little reckless for a PR stunt.”

“Feign ignorance if you want. Just make sure you don’t regret not begging for your life now, when all this is over.”

“You aren’t making light of this city, are you?”

“Oh my. You don’t have a grip on how your own city’s doing right now? Communication problems already? Well, please excuse me. You see, I can’t even count the number of enemy soldiers I’ve made a mess of. Ha-ha. Even the operator’s down?”

“…”

“Sixty percent. Seventy percent. Eighty percent might be pushing it. Whatever. It’ll be one hundred percent soon enough. ‘Anti-Skill’ and ‘Judgment,’ were they? It’s because you try to defend yourself with such cheap labor that I can just waltz in and detach your head. You must at least know you’re done for, right?”

“Heh.”

“?”

“If you think you’ve broken through Academy City’s defenses, then ignorance truly is bliss. You don’t understand the true form of this city.”

“Really, now?”

“What I mean is this—you aren’t the only one with something still hidden. Of course, we might defeat you before you find out what mine is.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll crush anyone who stands in my way. It’s been a predetermined rule since I was born.”

It seemed like they were exchanging words, but each was only talking at the other, saying what they wanted.

The woman looked at the mud-covered radio.

“I am Vento of the Front. The ultimate weapon out of two billion.”

And last, she said this:

“I will destroy everything in this single night. You, Academy City, the Imagine Breaker, the Index—all of it.”

With that, the woman calling herself Vento crushed the radio in her bare hand.

The person, Aleister, was in a room of a building with no windows.

A cylindrical life-preserving device sat in the middle of the rectangular space as though enshrined there, and the person floated upside down within. The red fluid it was filled with permeated Aleister’s body through the mouth and nose, continuously acting on every single cell.

There was normally no real illumination here—only the countless lights like stars, created by the mechanical indicator lights completely covering all four walls of the spacious room. But right now, blinking red warning lights were intermittently brightening up the vast space.

As mentioned before, this room had no equipment to illuminate it.

The red light was actually the amalgamation of countless errors displayed on computer monitors. It went to show how much of an emergency the entire Academy City area found itself in right now.

Because of just one sorcerer.

Because of one of the God’s Right Seat.

Academy City, which hadn’t been swayed even by the Croce di Pietro.

“…”

In less than an hour, almost 70 percent of the Anti-Skill officers upholding the peace of Academy City had been laid to waste. As far as the life signs told Aleister, none were dead. But if the city fell before they awoke, it would be impossible for them to regroup. Damage reports and reinforcement requests flooded in from all over, but it would be a great bother to answer every single one of them.

The city was on the verge of death.

And yet—

Despite that—

The person Aleister wore only a smile on his lips.

An inexplicable smile—one that could apply to any emotion and yet applied to none at all.

“Fascinating,” he whispered. “So incredibly fascinating. This is why I cannot stop living. A chance to use it has finally appeared. It is too soon…but my plans are holding things up. Irregularities are the greatest form of entertainment.”

He toyed with that emotion, rolling it over his tongue. At the same time, he delivered countless control orders to his instruments from within his life-preservation machine. Touching one of the wireless devices, he flung frequencies and secret codes at it to connect to those who crawled like worms through the darkness of Academy City.

“Hound Dog—Amata Kihara,” said Aleister.

After receiving a curt response, he ordered something extra.

“School District i, the Five Elements Society…The involuntary diffusion fields. It’s a bit early, but we will use Hyouka Kazakiri to crush ‘them.’ I don’t mind if you need to take off her limbs. As soon as you capture the fleeing serial number 20001, bring her to the point I specify—quickly and courteously.”

Then, with a smile, he said:

“I’ve waited with bated breath for so long for showtime to begin.”