What Are You Gonna Do If I Just Do Nuclear Fusion?
The universe.
An impossibly vast world, expanding faster than light itself, its edges forever beyond observation.
In the world I once lived in, matter, time, and space were treated as the three fundamental components that made up existence. Scholars of the basic sciences used to claim that on the stage of space, following the path of time, the actors called matter ran about with all their might—and that this was the world.
The school of magic, however, added interaction to those three and proposed four elements instead. I threw my weight behind that view as well.
Why is an electron attracted to a proton?
Because the electron and the proton interact.
Why do stars shine?
Because thinking that began from a single interaction—the weak force—led us to uncover nuclear fusion.
Yes. It is not that everything in the universe simply interacts; the universe can exist only because every form of matter interacts in harmonious balance.
Those interactions cannot be broken by any law belonging to the system of the universe itself. Already inside that system, whatever you do remains within the rules.
“But once we discovered that the existence of Outer Gods shatters that absolute certainty, every high-ranking mage—including myself—began to treat the fact with the utmost caution.”
Beating the Demon King and the Great Demon to a pulp, persuading the human coalition, traveling to the Empire to beg for budgets and personnel…
It had been one hell of a circus.
“In the previous world we employed every means available to detect Outer God activity and to glimpse their thoughts and actions.”
On the other side of the video conference screen, Secretary-General Peter and the various national representatives wore expressions of every possible shade. Most of them could best be described as having checked out entirely.
Here I was working so hard to explain things, and they couldn’t even bother to listen properly… Well, I might as well just finish saying what I had to say.
“Fortunately, the majority of Outer Gods simply sit still. Even among the minority that are active, almost none take any interest in humanity. Some take tactile pleasure from the crushing force of a black hole; others pick a single living creature and watch its every move for psychological stimulation…”
Yeah. When we first received the wavelength that basically translated to “Ugh, it’s sucking me in—ahh, ah, nnngh” while the thing was snuggling up to a black hole, you can imagine how the interpreter and I felt…
Or the Outer God bastard who decided to play matchmaker for a pair of hairy ten-micrometer protozoa and kept muttering “The true wife is definitely so-and-so…”
Hah.
“Evil Gods are one category of those Outer Gods. Among the tiny handful of active ones, we designated those that pose a direct threat to the survival of humanity.”
There had been one that slowly lengthened a planet’s rotation period while watching with fascination as a transcendent civilization collapsed. Another took the form of a sentient being, brainwashed and sowed discord among the powers of a galactic civilization, then sat back to enjoy the process of mutual annihilation.
Their direction was the same as other Outer Gods; the problem was that their chosen subjects were intelligent life—humans included.
As soon as talk of gods began, the audience’s reactions visibly soured. I swept my gaze across them.
“This has nothing to do with faith, religion, or cults. In the world I came from, gods were observable and wielded real power.”
I shrugged under the mixture of tilted heads, disbelief, doubt, and expectation.
“Well, I have no proof. Feel free to let the god talk go in one ear and out the other. What matters is the threat that is coming.”
At my casual “or not” mention, Secretary-General Peter on the screen raised an objection.
“That sounds far too vague. Setting aside whether we can believe it, we cannot even decide what we are supposed to do.”
His following explanation was not wrong.
“Until there is sufficient evidence for us to agree that humanity faces a crisis, and until the concrete steps we must take to prepare are clearly defined, the United Nations will not move. I state that position clearly here and now.”
Yeah. Fair enough.
“Then I respect the United Nations’ opinion.”
So I’ll respect your choice.
“…”
Silence.
It was cold.
“…Um.”
Anchor Cha Yu-rim, face full of fluster and shock, quietly tried to call my name. I stopped her and continued.
“It is not a level I cannot face alone. I simply lack the certainty that I can protect the entire Earth and all of humanity while doing so.”
I can fight.
But if the condition is that I must protect everyone while fighting, then I am not certain.
“When I ask for your help, I mean prepare yourselves enough to protect yourselves—not lend me your strength.”
A Hero has her pride, after all.
And while we’re at it, I would like magic to become universal. Not a technology for the few, but something general-purpose that can melt into everyday life.
“That statement sounds like a threat. Brandishing an uncertain terror and warning us to cooperate…”
“Yes. It is a warning, and I am trying to scare you.”
“…”
“If there were a meteor with a fifty-percent chance of colliding with Earth, you would decide to throw every resource you have at destroying it. I want all of humanity to feel a threat of exactly that level.”
Was that a bit strong?
But I needed this hard line. The awkward feeling I had been sensing from the start—the UN Secretary-General was not questioning me so much as hunting for reasons to distrust me. At this rate I would only be jerked around by their interrogation.
“Do you have no intention of persuading us at all? Only that would explain this attitude…”
Apparently it had been too strong. His face had gone so red it looked ready to burst.
Fine, burst. I was sick of boring, pedantic explanations.
“Me? Persuade you? Why should I? Once about a billion people die later, everyone will listen to me.”
“What?!”
I waved a hand dismissively.
Thinking about it, it was also a hassle, and I felt no particular need to convince a bunch of stiff-necked bigwigs. If they experienced the disaster once, the way I said, they would listen on their own—so why should I bow and scrape to soothe their feelings?
A billion was a slight exaggeration, of course.
Anyway, I held the key, and the foreign suit-wearers in front of me were just frustrating people who kept flexing their necks without even knowing what they stood to lose.
“My conditions are these: participate in open joint research on magic, and spare no human or material resources for it.”
So I simply threw my demands at them unilaterally.
“In return I will provide generous information on magic and various new technologies. We can also prepare countermeasures against the Evil Gods together.”
Of course I would have to open the honey pot I was sitting on a little.
I gestured to the tall female agent standing in the corner of the studio. Time to show them.
—Nod.
“So… I should give you an example of what you might gain from joint magic research, right?”
Goodbye, political representatives.
Treating the UN ambassadors packed on the screen as the CEOs of each country’s trading partners, I rubbed my hands together with a salesman smile.
Ordinary people watching the news would see me too, but who cared? From this moment on I was a sales rep out to peddle product.
“Have any of you heard of nuclear fusion?”
—Murmur murmur
“I’m about to show you some insanely cool magical engineering tech… so make sure you go around spreading the word, okay?”
I called out, “Let there be light.”
And there was light.
Afterward, the rumors spread like wildfire.
During the break, word came that several originally scheduled news segments had been canceled.
“The science representatives who were supposed to join the discussion saw the nuclear fusion device and postponed their interview slots.”
“Oh dear.”
“Human-rights groups also notified us they would delay their interviews until after the UN dialogue…”
“Oh dear.”
And so the news schedule was drastically shortened.
“Please come with us for a moment.”
For the roughly one-hour gap I was hauled into a black van under the pretext of “rest,” and received a mysterious phone call.
“Hello?”
Minister of Foreign Affairs
Ah.
Without thinking I gripped the phone with both hands and bowed my head.
After that, a great many words were exchanged.
“Come on, how big a problem could that really be…”
“Yes, yes. Take care.”
It felt less like a scolding and more like encouragement? Or maybe a pep talk? I hadn’t been chewed out as badly as I expected; instead I only received a gentle lecture.
Hmm.
It was the stance of parents gently chiding a child who had accidentally broken a cup.
When the long broadcast schedule finally ended and I returned to the facility, it was already nearly midnight.
“Phew… bed~!”
—Thud
Face planted into the pillow, body flung onto the mattress—pure paradise.
It felt as if the energy I had burned all day was finally flowing back. The Hero who once fought ten days and nights without sleep had become a useless unemployed mage whose only remaining strength was raw power and whose stamina had vanished.
Diving into bed still wearing the clothes I had worn outside might look unhygienic to modern people. But for a battlefield mage it was perfectly ordinary.
"Purification. Cleaning."
⟨ Flash! ⟩
One little click of magic and it was done.
If only magic could make everything possible… but apparently there was no spell that erased this vague unease.
“…Will it be all right?”
With my face buried in the pillow the world was pitch black. Even when I flipped over and stared at the ceiling it remained just as dark. Turning on the light probably wouldn’t change much.
“I can’t keep putting on shows forever.”
Half-threatening the UN Secretary-General had taught me something.
Shows no longer meant anything. Whatever they were plotting under the surface, whatever intentions they harbored—it was none of my concern.
From now on: research into methods of opposing Outer Gods, and the establishment and operation of the Magic Bureau that would support that research.
The launch of a United Nations task force—yet one whose stance was not to support me.
While I turned those things over in my mind, the night grew deep.