EPILOGUE

“THIS IS THE BUNKER. YoRHa M Squadron, do you read me?”

　The message came in over my SSU shortly after I’d finished listening to No. 2’s recording. I was still trying to process everything I’d just learned, and it had me maybe a little more on edge than I needed to be. So I didn’t respond right away.

　“YoRHa M Squadron, please come in. Are you there?”

　I recognized the operator’s voice. I’d heard her over the comms before. She had a calm, collected manner, though her words felt cold somehow.

　“Sorry,” I replied. “This is Gunner No. 22. Go ahead.”

　“Please report status and coordinate data for current location.”

　“Two survivors: units No. 9 and No. 22. Two casualties: units No. 2 and No. 21. Cause of death: logic virus infection followed by . . . self-destruction.”

　When No. 21 had attempted to catch us in the blast radius of his self-destruct explosion, No. 2 intervened, knocking him over the edge of a cliff. And then No. 2 had also self-destructed, though his act was a selfless one meant to save us from the threat of infection. He’d plunged his own sword into his chest and thrown himself off the side of the same cliff.

　But the operator didn’t ask for the details. “I see,” was her curt reply, and she left the matter at that.

　“Um . . . ” I ventured. “Are there any other survivors besides us?”

　“Contact has been established with Gunner No. 4. A backup unit is en route to his position.”

　“And . . . anyone else?”

　“Current status of squadron members other than you two and No. 4 is unknown.”

　I started to ask about the Resistance units but stopped myself. They were deserters. No reason to get Command involved, even if those three had survived. I felt certain they’d scurry off well before our backup arrived, leaving no trace of where they were headed.

　“Please stand by at your current location for rendezvous,” continued the operator.

　“And after that?” I asked. “What’s going to happen to us?”

　“After recovery by the backup unit, I’m told you’ll be returned to the Bunker for repairs and reoutfitting.”

　The words from No. 2’s SSU flashed through my mind. A full reformat.

　“I . . . see. Understood, ma’am.”

　The experiment had run its course. All survivors were scheduled for disposal―No. 4, No. 9, and me, too. Now that I knew the truth, I wondered if maybe we’d have been better off escaping like No. 21 had wanted. Maybe I should have agreed to his plan.

　I remembered how he said that he’d always pitied me, and how No. 9 had been so desperate to protect my feelings, shouting, “No! Don’t listen to him!” But I already knew what No. 21 really thought of me. I’d realized it a long, long time ago.

　And his words were all true: I had failed as an Attacker, and No. 21 was far more accomplished than me. I’d always been aware of my inferiority. I’d always known that my twin looked down on me. Of course he would.

　How could I not know what he thought of me? We were twins. He knew me better than I knew myself―just like I knew him more thoroughly than he ever could.

　So when he was taken over by the logic virus and said those things aloud, it was kind of a relief, to be honest. It showed me that even though he’d had those thoughts, he was embarrassed by them. He didn’t want to say them out loud for fear of hurting me. That was how much he cared about me.

　If the virus hadn’t undermined his self-control, he’d have probably kept those thoughts to himself until the day he died, all to let me hang on to the little pride I had left. That made me happy.

　It also made me realize that I should have―

　“No. 22? Is something wrong?”

　“Huh? Oh. No, I’m fine.”

　I hadn’t even noticed No. 9 lower himself to the ground beside me. I figured he must’ve heard my exchange with the operator. That was probably why he was speaking in an unusually hushed tone.

　“Sounds like we’re the only three left.”

　The instructor and No. 3, along with No. 6, No. 21, and even No. 2 . . . They were all dead. Pretty soon, we’d be gone from this world, too.

　I should have agreed to No. 21’s plan. I didn’t care anymore that it violated orders. I didn’t care whether it was right or not. I should have gone with him because he was my twin and I loved him.

　“No. 21 . . . ”

　I wondered where he was now and what had become of his soul. I wanted to be by his side again, and soon.

Everything feels still somehow, almost like when it’s snowing . . .

　Who waS it that said thosE words? I cOuLDn’t rEmeMber. But the words seEmed very . . . vErY . . . f . . . ? Fo . . . foNd? What waS “FonD”?

　I wAs aT the bottom oF thE sea. I kNew thAT mUch. And, um . . . TherE hAd beeN an explosion. I was throWn far awaY. I remembeRed. BefOre, it wasN’t thE sea. It . . . it was a . . . a fo . . . foReSt. It huRt. VEry muCH hurt. And I could nOT move. I rolleD. I wAS liKe a stone. RoLLing.

　When I oPeNEd mY eyes, machines were carryinG me. We were goINg far. Very faR, FAr aWAy. dEEp in tHE sEa.

　I wanted him to come back. I was so lonely.

　I Did noT wAnt to be aLoNE!

　It was cOld. Few SounDS at the boTTom oF the sea. I diD noT waNT to be there . . . Not aLONe. I wAS sUpPOseD to . . . to have **** bEsiDe me.

　I cRieD.

　A bIG machine cAme. A vERy . . . very . . . biG mAchine.

　LeT’S be tOgeTHer. LEt’s go togethER.

　leT’s . . . Oh. I aM soRRy. I was wRong. YoU arE nOt it. wE tried toGeTHer, but You aRe noT it. The toGeTHer I waNT iS thE togeTheR i WanT is . . .

　I . . .

　I . . .

　WHo is “I”?

　WhO Am I? WhAT iS tHIs pLaCE? wHY iS hE NOt hErE?

　T . . . tw . . . TwEn . . .

　N . . . Num . . . beR . . . twentY-two . . . ?

　WHEre aRe yOU? I aM cold. PleASe . . . bE neXT To mE.

　tWEnTY-tWo? whO iS tHAt? Who aM I? wHo ArE YOu? i dO nOT kNOw.

　bUT . . . I wAnT iT hERe . . . I want . . . nUMbEr . . . tWentY . . . twO . . . ?

　NumBer 22. RiGHt. ThAt’S your naMe.

　Come hERe. I’m coLD. NumBEr TwENty-tWO, nUMbER tWEntY-twO, numBEr twEnTy-tWo . . .

. . . sHoULd I go to yOU? It wILL be wARM beside YOu. I WiLL gO.

　NUMbeR TwENty-twO. Where aRE you? RiGHt now. I wiLL huRRy. I will bE witH You . . .