The Celestine Incident - Ship No. 2 (1)
Following the trail of viscous puddles, my gaze landed on several corpses. Medical staff, security personnel, facility managers, even teachers. Among them, not a single examiner. Literally zero.
“I was told they’d stationed a ton of people here?”
EX-rank examiners were relatively rare assets, so only about four had been left in the lobby while the rest were sent up to the ship. On top of that, there had been an entire company-sized unit made up solely of S-ranks.
“And all those examiners just vanished?”
“I-I don’t know what the hell is going on either. Anyway, this isn’t the time to stand around. We need to find survivors first.”
The examiners from Ship No. 1 who had joined us got straight to work cleaning up the lobby without a moment’s rest. They collected the bodies, scooped up the gruesome organs, wiped away the blood, and cleared the debris. Above all, they were frantic in their search for anyone still alive.
“N-no… I hate this… I hate it…”
When I looked back, Mezlen was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t the only one. Everyone’s mental state was severely exhausted.
“It’ll be okay, damn it. It’ll be okay.”
Matus was doing his best to comfort her, but it wasn’t enough. Her condition looked dire.
Her mental condition has deteriorated rapidly after witnessing a shocking scene. If this state continues, it may lead to anxiety disorder, dissociative disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder.
It was starting, just as I expected. Mental wounds were far more dangerous than physical ones. If left untreated even for a moment, Mezlen would end up a broken shell of a person—better off dead. For the sake of the future Outer God biologist, I had to prevent that at all costs.
“Cartesia.”
I quietly called her name. In response, an irritated message flooded my mind.
“Do not casually utter my true name.”
A prickly reply, as usual. But then what was I supposed to call her? Calling her “Outer God” just sounded weird.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor? From an inferior species to me?”
“Then I’ll make it an order.”
I mentally calculated the remaining fron. Excluding the 100,000 I’d set aside for the tech tree, I had about 50,000 left. I poured it all in with the command.
“I’m going to use a wide-area skill to help with mental recovery.”
“…So pushy.”
— The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ approves your request.
Cartesia was an Outer God who valued contracts and compensation above all. As long as I had enough fron, I could force her hand.
— Alert: The PN values of all living beings within 20 meters of you have decreased by 200.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Mezlen’s ragged breathing finally calm. Mental stabilization skills were something even most Constellations lacked. On the other hand, every Descartes-type Outer God possessed them. In moments like this, Cartesia really was an incredible patron.
She grumbled and complained, but as long as you paid the price, she’d do whatever you asked.
— The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ falls silent.
— You have received 500 fron in sponsorship.
See? There she goes again, giving me more.
“There’s a survivor over here!”
An examiner waved from the distant desk. Those of us who had been lounging in the chairs jumped up and ran over.
“…Professor Kendra?”
Our homeroom teacher was there, her left shoulder completely gone.
***
Kendra was immediately transported to the hospital.
‘The pillars… be careful of the silver pillars…’
Because it had been an emergency, there hadn’t been time to ask for details. That was all we got. Her arm had been severed quite some time ago, so reattachment surgery seemed unlikely. She would probably have to live with a mechanical arm for the rest of her life.
What a shitty thing to happen. And yet, in this world, it was all too common.
Once the search was over, the examiners focused on sending the students home. Welton and his group exchanged a few words with me before leaving. Now I was the only student left in the lobby.
“…Your homeroom teacher surviving was a miracle.”
EnaBet spoke with a bitter smile. She had been assigned to guard me.
“Normally, after that much time, she would have died from blood loss. Whether the Constellation was watching over her or she was just lucky…”
“Probably both.”
I was simply grateful she hadn’t died. EnaBet lowered her head and put a cigarette to her lips, but after glancing at my face, she put the lighter away again.
“Student. Want a candy?”
“Is it a throat lozenge?”
“Peppermint.”
I cupped both hands and accepted the mint candy. The refreshing mint flavor seemed to cleanse some of the heavy atmosphere.
“My friend used to give me candies like this all the time. She should be on Ship No. 2… I wonder what happened to her.”
“A girl?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a guess.”
I let out a small chuckle. EnaBet changed the subject. She looked around the now-cleaned lobby and sighed.
“When you work as an examiner, you see scenes like this more often than you’d like.”
“It must be hard.”
“Not as hard as it is for you kids.”
She laughed softly and patted my shoulder.
“Anyway, your name was Eidel, right? You seem to have some special ability… but you should head home soon too. There’s a high chance that other ships have avatars as well.”
“I’m worried about my little sister and that friend of mine. Just being allowed to stay here is already a relief.”
“You’re brave.”
A shadow fell over my forehead and then vanished. EnaBet hesitated, then slowly lowered her hand.
“Sorry. It reminded me of a junior I used to pat on the head.”
“…”
The air froze. I smiled awkwardly. The corner of EnaBet’s mouth curved up slightly.
“Thanks for indulging me. An EX-rank examiner personally guarding someone like me.”
“If you know that, shouldn’t you go somewhere safe?”
“Isn’t the safest place right next to you, Examiner?”
“Cheeky brat.”
I looked up at the sky. Three stars that looked like dots. They were Celestine Ships 1, 2, and 3. Ship No. 1 had stabilized. That left Ships 2 and 3. Ship No. 4 had drifted off course and was out of consideration.
I had two choices. But before making any decision, I needed permission from EnaBet and the other examiners. Permission to go up there.
Obviously they wouldn’t give it easily. Maybe I could talk them into it somehow. With that thought, I lowered my gaze back to where EnaBet stood.
“…”
But where EnaBet should have been, there was only empty space. She had vanished. And not just her—the other examiners who had been patrolling the lobby were all gone too. There had definitely been more than thirty of them.
A chill ran down my spine.
— The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ has detected a sinister presence.
“Run, you brat. Bottom right.”
The moment I read the forcibly opened status window, I threw myself to the left.
Schunk!
A steel skewer shot up from where I had just been standing. It traveled diagonally from bottom right to top left. It had a silvery sheen, which momentarily blinded me.
“Duck, brat.”
It took me 0.03 seconds to process Cartesia’s words and react. I lowered my head, and a silver spike passed just above it. I had nearly lost an eye.
“Oh? You dodged that too.”
After dodging two attacks, a voice rang out. The next moment, the owner of the voice revealed itself. What slithered up from the floor took on a humanoid shape. At least it had four limbs. Its torso was emaciated, its entire body pure white. Its arms and legs were unnaturally thin compared to its body. Its fingers were exceptionally long, and its face looked like it had been smashed flat from the screaming figure in The Scream by Munch.
— Avatar ‘Yodel’ has descended.
— Eliminate it!
***
Celestine Ship No. 2. Before the practical exam began.
“There is a possibility that an avatar will appear.”
Instructor Isaac Clark, who was overseeing the exam, made the announcement.
“As you all know, there is a small hole in the Ether Belt. Until the scientists find a way to repair it, we have no idea what kind of tricks the Outer Gods might pull. Right now, we are in an extremely vulnerable state.”
As expected, the students began to stir. Unease rippled through the crowd like a wave.
“Seriously, I really didn’t want to tell you this.”
“They’re only seventeen. They’re still kids. We had no choice.”
Isaac chuckled as he spoke with his subordinate examiner, Kizel. His eyes were fixed on one particular girl. A beautiful girl with a golden ponytail. Her deep blue eyes radiated intelligence, and her flour-pale face exuded gentleness. Her beauty was enough to steal the soul of anyone who looked at her.
But that wasn’t what Isaac was paying attention to. He had been carefully observing the girl’s expression from the start.
“Look at her. Her name is Rustilla. From the very beginning, there hasn’t been a single trace of agitation on her face. Instead, she’s been calmly inspecting her sword the whole time.”
“Indeed. She’s a rare talent.”
Kizel was also a veteran examiner who had grown up on the battlefield. He could instantly recognize promising seedlings just from their expressions and posture.
“With a face like that… wow…”
“Hey, you.”
Isaac lightly smacked the back of Kizel’s head.
“That girl already has someone.”
“I suppose so. With a face like that, if she didn’t have at least one boyfriend, wouldn’t that be a waste of a lifetime?”
“Waste? Hardly.”
What mattered most to an examiner was combat ability. An unattractive face could be fixed with plastic surgery. But a flawed mindset could never be corrected. In that regard, the girl named Rustilla had talent. She possessed an extraordinary level of composure for her age. Composure was the foremost virtue of any examiner.
“She has a Constellation, and her technique is excellent. Her fundamentals are lacking, but that’s not because she’s deficient. It’s because ordinary swordsmanship simply doesn’t suit her. And she has the potential to make up for it.”
“In short, she was born with a freakish physique for combat?”
“Exactly. She might make a huge impact once she joins the military.”
The two examiners ended their conversation there. Isaac began explaining the practical exam events. On Ship No. 2, which orbited farther out than Ship No. 1, they would be evaluating combat capability in outer space.
“Battles don’t only happen on the ground. How well can you suppress a long-range monster in zero gravity with nothing but a single sword? Or how quickly can you recover when your stance is thrown off by the gravity of an outer planet? Even the smallest details like these can determine a person’s fate.”
“U-um… isn’t that a bit too difficult?”
One student raised a hand and complained. The level of the test was more suited for cadets at a military college.
“Yeah, it’s way too hard.”
“Hmm, is it?”
When grumbling erupted from all sides, Isaac stroked his chin. Just five seconds earlier, the stellar cluster he commanded had begun sending him a signal.
“Then how would you handle the current situation?”
Rumble!
The ceiling shook. The students’ heads turned blankly upward. Dozens of massive hexagonal silver pillars were falling toward them.