Against the Endless Currents
I am swimming. Against the ceaseless onslaught of ocean currents, defying the infinite ripples spreading outward.
A storm infused with mana batters my body, while dark fog obstructs my straight path forward.
Time's flow has long vanished from my mind. I simply endure beyond what I can bear.
A roar erupts as a waterspout surges skyward. Waves crash down like a whale breaching the surface. Lightning fills the monochrome world.
Yet in the depths of that strangely serene ocean, I suddenly sense an unknown gaze upon me.
———!
The sea howls again. A vortex swirls beneath me, seizing my feet and coiling around my waist to drag my entire body down.
Whoosh—!
The water churns violently. I sink below the surface. My breath is cut off, but I move like a diving seal.
Snap—!
In an instant, a monstrous fish lunges and bites my arm. I tear out its teeth with my bare hands.
Swish—
Then tentacles wrap around my ankle. Some deep-sea abomination trying to pull me under. I sever it with my steel-hard throat.
“……”
I surface again. I survey the vast open sea around me.
The gale shows no sign of stopping—in fact, far off, a wave blots out the sky.
“Hm.”
Its scale dwarfs all else. Even I, unaccustomed to surprise, am momentarily speechless.
Ruuuuuumble……
A wall of water rises, devouring space itself.
Like an entire mountain range charging forth—a monstrous wave straight out of some movie I'd once seen.
“You were watching.”
A calamity that would drive any human to despair, yet strangely, I welcome it. This heart of mine remains calm and composed.
Because I sense someone's mana emanating from the wave.
“Sylvia.”
This is her doing. A petty ploy to wash me away.
Piercing beyond it, I declare.
“I shall come to you soon.”
I draw a deep breath, filling my lungs to the brim. Before the wave can strike, I dive.
Splash—!
The deeper I go, the greater the pressure clogs my ears, and sounds grow faint.
……Rumble.
The aftershocks of the colossal wave passing overhead.
But it's no issue. The lungs of Iron Man rival a whale's in capacity—I can hold out down here for hours.
“……”
The sea's profound, tranquil depths. I press onward through them.
And just then, a rather satisfying system notification appears.
◆ Trait Acquired: Swimming Gold Medalist
Gold medalist.
The modern term, now unfamiliar, etches onto my retina—and in the next instant.
Your Mental Fortitude overcomes the extreme situation. The trait advances.
◆ Trait Evolution: Mermaid
Grade: Rare
A human unafraid of the sea.
Naturally utilizes the ocean's waves and currents; moves as freely as on land, regardless of depth.
Sea monsters hold no hostility toward you.
Underwater breathing isn't included, regrettably, but I feel my body grow far more fluid. The deep sea's currents feel as familiar as something I could grasp in my hand.
With this adept motion, I cleave through the currents.
* * *
At the same time, Sylvia sits on the beach. She draws shapes in the sand with her finger, gazing at the distant sea—watching that person.
Right now, he is out there in that ocean. Approaching me. And I know why.
Because the Voice is the devil's creation.
Thud.
Suddenly, a swift bird lands on Sylvia's shoulder. A bear-panda settles on her knee.
“Mm.”
Sylvia strokes the two creatures and nods.
Perhaps they're no longer needed.
In this world where her mother is with her, that nameless man might no longer be necessary to her.
No—he is not.
“……Not needed.”
Sylvia had pushed him away. Raised fierce waves, unleashed a storm.
“Professor.”
The man she had always hated, loathed, and loved.
You are no longer needed.
Not now that Mom—Cielia, whom I love more than you—is alive here.
“So.”
Leave me be.
“—Sylvia.”
Suddenly, her mother's gentle voice approaches. Sylvia turns and smiles brightly.
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
“……Watching the sea.”
“Is that so? It's getting dark—shall we head back?”
“Yes.”
Sylvia stands. She takes Cielia's hand. They walk the beach together, waves lapping gently.
“……Sylvia.”
The sea breeze blows. Hermit crabs scuttle along. Sand sparkles in the sunlight.
In that scenery, Cielia calls her name. Sylvia turns back.
“Yes.”
“That person will come. Without fail.”
“……”
Sylvia's expression hardens. Her steps halt abruptly.
Why say such a thing now? She glares at Cielia with resentment.
“Why does Mom—”
“That person will protect you.”
“……”
Sylvia furrows her brow. Not understanding, she asks Cielia again.
“He will protect me?”
“Yes. He promised. Before I died.”
Splash……
A gentle wave rolls in, softly wetting the shore's sand.
The Voice's nature flows on like this, but Sylvia's time stops for a moment.
A chill of fear grips her.
“……How do you know?”
That Mom is already dead.
Sylvia's voice trembles as she asks. Cielia smiles brightly, placing a hand on her head. Then whispers softly.
“Sylvia. Because I am your mother. Not a fake, but the real one.”
“……Ah.”
Something bursts inside Sylvia's heart.
Suddenly, her breath catches. Tears stream unbidden down her cheeks.
“That's why I have to leave.”
“Why? Why? If you're real, stay with me.”
“……Shh.”
Cielia presses a finger to her lips. Sylvia looks up at her with a tear-streaked, sodden face.
“He'll tell you the rest when he arrives.”
Splash—
Waves crash against the beach, scattering like jewels.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ifrin sits on the ship's railing, staring out at the sea.
“Ahh. Professor! Can you hear me? Over. This is Ifrin, over. Respond if you hear me, over.”
She was sending a message through the crystal orb linked to Deculein when—
Thump!
A playful shove on her shoulder.
“Gyaah!”
Ifrin whips around in terror.
It was Vice Security Director Premien.
“Argh! Gyaaaaah—!”
Ifrin glares at Premien's face and screams, vividly conveying the shock she'd just felt.
“Aaaaaah—! Kraaaah—!”
“……”
“What the hell was that—?!”
“Is it that startling?”
“My heart nearly stopped!”
Premien nods impassively and sits beside her.
“Professor Deculein is out there in that sea, yes?”
“……Yeah. He went into the ocean. Said he'd swim there.”
“And you don't need to go?”
“I can't. How could I even?”
The storm and winds still rage. All of it laced with mana—a disaster.
Even the winter king Zeit might perish if caught in it.
“Is the professor alright?”
“……Yeah. He won't die. Not the professor.”
Ifrin knows. At least for now, Deculein won't die. He lives on into the distant future.
In other words, he's still invincible……
Wait, does that mean the future where he dies hasn't changed? He just dies further ahead, so he survives now?
No, regardless, isn't the goal to change it to a future where the professor doesn't die?
Suddenly pondering, Ifrin snorts to herself.
“Duh, of course we change it. If it doesn't change, is that even the future? Futures exist to be altered.”
“Why the sudden muttering?”
“……Nothing.”
Ifrin pulls a pocket watch from her waist.
A wooden pocket watch. Some thing whose purpose she still doesn't know.
Premien asks.
“What's that?”
“Dunno. No effect at all.”
“May I touch it?”
“……”
Whoosh—Ifrin slyly tucks the watch back at her waist, eyeing Premien warily.
Premien says.
“Let me see it. I have a knack for 'hypotheses.'”
“……Hypotheses?”
“Yes.”
Premien taps her temple.
“Multifaceted thinking is my talent. Applies to everything except stocks. Stocks are madness.”
Ifrin hesitates but figures what the hell.
She'd never figure it out alone anyway.
“……Give it right back.”
She hands over the pocket watch. Premien places it in her palm and extracts her 'thoughts.'
So-called Materialization of Thoughts and Memories. She considers all possibilities from multiple angles to form hypotheses. Theoretically, she condenses a month's worth of one person's thinking into ten minutes.
Soon, Premien speaks.
“……It might be a catalyst.”
“Catalyst?”
“Yes. Amplifies a caster's magic efficiency.”
“Then it's useless. I tried that—no change.”
“Or a catalyst that imbues specific mana into items.”
“……Into items?”
Ifrin frowns. Premien nods and returns the watch.
“Put something on this pocket watch.”
“……Put something?”
“That crystal orb, even.”
“……”
Ifrin looks dubious but places the crystal orb on the watch. She whispers softly.
“Professor. Can you hear me?”
“……”
“……”
……No response, as expected.
Ifrin shakes her head. Premien clears her throat awkwardly.
“Hypotheses aren't always—”
Squeak—Ifrin yelps in shock.
“Oh! You made it? Have you met Sylvia?”
—……This is Sylvia.
“Huh? What? Why do you have the professor's crystal orb?”
—Because I took it.
“What does that even—”
Suddenly, Ifrin feels dizzy. Her mana drains rapidly; her body goes limp and heavy.
A familiar sensation.
From long ago, in some place where time tangled……
“Vice Director. This is weird……”
Ifrin turns to Premien.
“……Huh? You?”
Her head is lolled over.
The woman who'd been fine moments ago has suddenly passed out.
“Anyway. Sylvia, you—”
Ifrin's words cut off.
A voice booms in her mind.
To converse with someone from the future in the present timeline requires considerable mana.
Ifrin nearly drops the watch.
“No way.”
She swallows hard, retracing her thoughts. She stares intently at the crystal orb atop the watch.
“Sylvia. What's the situation there?”
Is this Sylvia not from the present, but from the 'near future'?
Is this wooden pocket watch the catalyst connecting to that future?
Sylvia says.
—I killed Deculein.
“……What? What do you—”
Ifrin's eyes widen in horror.
Then a brain-rattling shock hits her.
“Ugh…… Grk……”
Foam bubbles at her mouth, but she endures. Forces herself to hold on. Quickly separates the watch and orb.
She tucks the watch at her waist and clutches the orb.
“……Gonna die.”
She hasn't fainted, at least. Ifrin checks her remaining mana—nearly depleted.
Drip—drip—drip—nosebleed too.
“Vice Director. Thanks.”
Ifrin speaks to the unconscious—no, fainted—Premien. She pours her scant mana into the orb.
No time to waste.
“Professor! Professor!”
The near-future Sylvia said.
She killed Deculein.
Grateful for the excellent hint.
“Professor! Professor!”
Future or Sylvia's lie, doesn't matter—once heard, that future can surely be changed.
Futures exist to be changed.
“Professor! Professor! I'll call every minute! Answer if you hear me!”
* * *
I reach land.
Through the maddening mana disaster, I finally arrive at the island of the Voice.
The scenery is unexpectedly peaceful. No trace of demonic energy—that is, demonic mana.
—Professor!
The crystal orb in my pocket crackles to life.
Normally, it wouldn't work underwater. The sea's mana interferes with transmission.
“I have arrived.”
—Phew, thank goodness! Professor! Sylvia said she killed you!
“……”
—Future Sylvia said that! I figured out the pocket watch! But it's fine. We can change it! So don't let Sylvia take that orb!
I take Ifrin's words to heart. But I silence the orb for now.
Because across the nearby beach, someone stands tall, gazing down at me.
“……Sylvia.”
Sylvia.
She stares at me with an emotionless face. No expression, no feeling betrayed.
“It has been some time.”
I straighten my attire. Cleanse shakes off the water; I tidy my hair and tie.
“……”
Sylvia remains silent. She glares at me for a long while. I do not avert my eyes.
“……Follow me. I have words for you.”
At last, her words are bold. I nod and take a step.
“As you wish—”
“No. Do not move yet.”
“The reason?”
“This is the island of the Voice. Many long-dead people and extinct races dwell here. Voice zealots abound.”
Sylvia approaches. Each step hesitant yet resolute, laced with complex emotions.
“They'll kill you if they find you alone.”
Now right before me, she looks up. She's grown quite tall—her eyes reach my jawline.
……She's grown, yes, but now I see: high heels.
“Do not die yet.”
Sylvia extends her hand—no, her fingers. She pinches my sleeve between thumb and forefinger.
Like handling something filthy.
“Stay with me and you're safe. Don't stray from my side.”
Sylvia speaks in her usual dry tone. Her appearance has changed much from a year ago, but that ambiguous intonation is the same.
—Sylvia said she killed the professor!
Ifrin's words flash in my mind.
I nod.
“Very well. Will you show me the island too, Sylvia?”
“Don't utter my name with that filthy mouth.”
She twists my sleeve with her fingers. Her own petty assault, it seems.
I reply calmly.
“With pleasure.”
“Don't let go of my hand.”
Sylvia walks ahead. Not sure if this counts as holding hands, but I follow.
From the beach to the road, another city's scenery greets me.
Round blue roofs on low houses. Voice magic shops lining the streets. Stolen glances from all around.
Yet none emit demonic mana.
That's the mystery—
“Hungry?”
“……”
Sylvia's abrupt question.
No question mark, but from past experience, it's clearly one.
“Why ask that?”
“You swam.”
Sylvia points at a street vendor. Hot dogs on the menu.
“Those look good. Aren't you hungry?”
Still pinching my sleeve with two fingers, she asks with an innocent face.
I shake my head.
“No need.”
“……”
Sylvia nods faintly. A glimpse of sadness, then it turns icy cold.
She speaks again.
“Tell me if you get hungry.”
“You two~ Want to buy a flower~?”
Then a woman with a flower basket approaches us.
Sylvia glares and growls. A bizarre keee— leaks from her mouth.
“Sorry, Mom~!”
The woman flees in fright. Sylvia glances at me and mutters.
“Don't draw attention. Don't talk to anyone. Everyone's dangerous to you.”
A kindness I'm utterly unaccustomed to.