The Alchemist's Silence
The art museum at this late hour looked eerie, with only the exterior lights on and the interior completely dark. Come to think of it, I had returned here at this hour once before.
"This reminds me of that time."
"That time...? What do you mean?"
I felt as if my thoughts had been caught red-handed. It wasn't anything bad, yet I reacted like I'd been pricked by a needle.
"I mean the time when you came back begging me to let you see Harpy again, Ung-ssi."
So she really had noticed? No, it must have been a coincidence.
"..."
How embarrassing. I was so inexperienced back then... Though I can't say I've matured much since. A sigh escaped me without meaning to.
"Until you came to find me, I thought that even if I could hear someone's inner voice, the gap between us could never be easily bridged. But honestly, I was a little surprised when you returned and apologized properly."
"Back then... I went home and talked to Nero about it. She gave me quite an earful."
"Do people usually consult their pet cats for advice? And you're supposed to be the counselor here..."
She had a point.
"...Please pretend you didn't hear that last part."
After letting out her usual unpleasant chuckle, the team leader stepped into the elevator and descended underground. The elevator didn't stop until it reached the seventy-seventh floor, passing even the sixty-ninth floor where Undine was contained—the deepest level I had ever visited.
Unlike the upper six floors, the corridor here was dimly lit with only faint illumination, and no guards stood watch by the elevator. At this depth, perhaps the presence of people itself would be more dangerous. Still, it felt a little warmer than expected.
"A bit warm, isn't it? Two floors below us, on the seventy-ninth floor, there's a hot spring facility."
"...A hot spring?"
I vaguely remembered hearing about it once and being stunned, and now I was stunned all over again.
"The heat rising from the eighth floor couldn't be fully contained by the barriers, leaving an awkward space. It turned out to be perfect once Founder and Observer started enjoying the hot springs there. We should go together sometime."
"...Huh? Are we even allowed in there?"
"Access is extremely limited, but... it'll probably be fine."
Her casual, "it'll probably be fine" tone made me oddly uneasy, as if she planned to deal with any problems only after they arose. Still, the reason we had come to this floor mattered more right now.
"You don't need to keep looking around. We've arrived."
We had been walking down the corridor as the lights flickered on one by one in response to our movement. Following the team leader, who suddenly stopped, I halted as well. Before us stood a single door. Beside it, a sign read:
[ RL.7 - ALCHEMIST ]
When the team leader held her employee ID to the scanner, a voice confirmed authentication and the door slowly opened. The isolation room inside wasn't particularly large, and unlike the corridor, it felt cool—perhaps because the air conditioning was running. The most striking feature was a thick reinforced glass wall cutting across half the room, with another door on the far side that also required an ID scan to open.
Beyond the soundproof glass was a narrow space furnished with nothing but the bare minimum: a toilet, a bed, and little else. Instead of personal belongings, medical equipment crowded the area beside the bed. That meant the small girl lying motionless on the bed, as if dead, was the occupant of this room.
She wore a straitjacket with only one wrist freed, and countless IV needles were inserted into that exposed wrist, periodically administering something. The team leader spoke quietly.
"She is Nero's former master—the Alchemist. She was the only Stigma prisoner we managed to capture alive during the last nest cleanup."
...Nest cleanup. Stigma prisoner. I had heard all of this before.
"She was shot in the head and heart at point-blank range with 9mm rounds, yet she survived. Even now, she has completely healed those wounds on her own. It seems to be because she entrusted half of her soul to Nero."
"If she's healed, then why the IV needles...?"
"Sedatives and painkillers to help her sleep, plus essential nutrients. Prisoners who disobey Gabriel's orders suffer burning pain from their Stigma marks until they either comply or die."
"That's..."
I had heard that those marked with Stigma had to obey her commands blindly, were constantly monitored, and could even have their bodies taken over to say or do things against their will. Without physical shackles, they were still prisoners in every sense.
"I believe it would be kinder to kill them quickly and free them from their suffering. Does she still look alive to you, Ung-ssi?"
"But to do that..."
"Of course, Nero would have to die with her."
As expected.
"It's ironic. I came here to escape the fate of slaughtering countless innocent non-humans under Gabriel's will, yet the work I'm doing now is no different—I'm still killing innocent prisoners."
"Because there's no other way to save them..."
"Well, yes. The only alternatives would be for Gabriel herself to remove the Stigma or destroy her spiritual body, but that's not something we can ask her to do right now. So our current policy is to end the lives of Stigma-marked prisoners as quickly and painlessly as possible."
"...I see."
Nero wasn't marked with Stigma herself, but she seemed to be something like a familiar who carried half of the Alchemist's soul. Since Nero had no Stigma, the policy didn't apply directly to her. Still, I could now understand why the team leader had been willing to kill Nero outright as a means to an end. Of course, I had no intention of letting that happen. But the fact that Nero could only live if this girl endured the eternal agony of her flesh burning away... it was heavy. Truly heavy to accept.
The team leader probably hadn't wanted to show me this reality. Once I knew that the happy, ordinary days I spent with Nero were built upon someone else's sacrifice, there would be no going back.
"Come inside."
She opened the door beside the glass wall and gestured for me to enter. Following her in, I finally stood before the girl's bed—the one I had only seen through the glass until now. She looked older than Founder, but still no more than middle-school age. Her frail frame might have been due to severe malnutrition.
"There's a chance Gabriel could spy on us, however slim, so we always keep her eyes and ears covered. Still... would you like to try talking to her?"
"Talk... you mean?"
While removing the earplugs, I stared at the girl's stiff, white hair—more like the hair of an old woman than a young girl—and missed the moment the team leader stepped outside. From beyond the soundproof glass, she spoke into the microphone.
"—I've unlocked the block. She occasionally regains consciousness, though rarely. If possible, please try to talk to her about anything at all.—"
Even if she asked me to talk, what was I supposed to say? She hadn't given me any specific questions—just "talk." That made it feel even harder. As if reading my expression, she quickly added,
"—Anything is fine, really. I simply thought that hearing another person's voice might give her some strength.—"
"..."
...So that was what she meant. But the girl, who appeared to be in a deep sleep, gave off no inner voice at all. When people dream, you can sometimes catch stray thoughts or sleep-talk, yet she only breathed with difficulty, as silent as the dead. Since she supposedly regained awareness only occasionally, and that moment had to overlap with my presence here, I pulled over a nearby chair and sat down in front of her. Whether it was pity or guilt, I didn't know, but if there was anything I could do to help her, even a little, I wanted to try.
"...Huff... huff..."
...Yet after waiting with no results, the girl remained asleep as time passed. Thirty minutes, maybe an hour, had gone by. The team leader had turned away, perhaps to spare me the pressure, so I couldn't see her mask. Then a thought occurred to me: instead of waiting for her to wake, maybe I should just start talking first. It felt a little wrong to wake someone who was sleeping soundly, but sitting here doing nothing seemed pointless too.
"Um..."
But what should I even say...? Introduce myself?
"Alchemist, I suppose that's what I should call you?"
Speaking to someone without any response felt incredibly awkward, but the microphone was off and no one was watching or listening. Well, there might be recording, but... I had to try harder.
"...My name is Counselor."