The Black-Eyed Girl's Offer
"...Mmph... Mmmph..."
A month had passed, and I was still alive. Whether that was something to be grateful for, I wasn't sure anymore. Number 13 had survived this place and eventually met me in the distant future, so perhaps this was inevitable. But how long would this stretch of time continue? Would I have to keep living as Number 13 until the moment we finally met?
Clack... clack...
By now I should have lost myself, yet somehow I was still sane. It wasn't because I'd grown used to the pain—I could never get used to something like this. I had simply stopped resisting and accepted it. Even if these were someone else's memories, the excessive stress should have damaged my mind, but I remained perfectly lucid. Every time Number 13 lost consciousness from the agony and collapsed, I was flung out of her mind and regained my own awareness. The accumulated stress would blur and fade, just like last night's dream. Because of that, I had to face the pain fully conscious each time, trembling with fear as I climbed onto the operating table. In a way, it was an even deeper hell.
...It was horrifying. Number 13's life, forced to survive in this environment since childhood, was horrifying. The sight of those people pressing saws and hammers against a young girl's body without so much as blinking was horrifying. And above all...
"It's already been a month. My expectations for you are quite high, you know~"
Sarakael... This angel currently digging beneath my fingernails was the source of every ounce of disgust I felt.
"Mmph... Mmmph..."
Clack... clack...
One thing I could be certain of: none of the social, ethical, or moral values we held—any sense of justice or righteousness—applied to these beings.
"She's the first since her to undergo more than ten demonifications without any aftereffects from recovery."
Why this angel wearing a demon's skin never fell—I had been judging them by ordinary human standards of right and wrong. Each of them seemed to possess their own personal definition of justice. A justice not written in any doctrine, but one that existed in the mind of this angel called Sarakael.
"The time it takes for those hideous horns to sprout after each injection is getting shorter and shorter... but it'll be fine, won't it~?"
Over the past month, while enduring agonizing experiments and meaningless indoctrination, I had begun to piece together her twisted sense of justice. Sarakael was an archangel tasked with guiding wayward souls onto the correct path, exposing their sins, and reforming them. She spoke of humans as if they were literally another species—lower beings fated to die—and I could find none of the merciful, benevolent angel I had imagined in her. She viewed guiding the swarming masses of humanity efficiently as justification for treating ability users and anomalies as heretics when human law proved insufficient, much like Gabriel. She captured ability users and anomalies who might explode at any moment and harm innocents, dragging them into the Inquisition. Up to that point, it could be seen as preventive action for the public good. But she, being an angel, refused to abandon these sinners. She searched for value in them—one purpose being to use them to capture other ability users and anomalies. The other purpose was to find more effective methods to combat demons, demanding this kind of devotion from them. Rather than living a short life stained with sin, she judged that helping secure victory through devotion was far more valuable.
"That'll be all for today~"
Clack...
Thud...
Only after all ten of those hideous, jet-black, pointed nails had fallen into the tin basin, sticky with black blood, did the indoctrination session end. In my dazed, spinning vision, I realized a brilliant halo had appeared above Sarakael's head and wings had sprouted from her back. My sight was instantly flooded with light, and the severed body parts began regenerating back into their original, unblemished forms.
"...I'm always grateful."
Angel or demon... It sounded like something out of a fairy tale, but the relationship between the two clearly wasn't good. She genuinely believed that no matter how many prisoners died for the sake of their extermination, their sacrifice was noble and a worthy act of devotion. Sincerely... she truly believed this was right. Facing this alien being with whom language was shared but communication was impossible, I felt a fear that took my breath away.
*
"Hah... hah, finally... found... wait—"
The red-haired woman stumbled several times through the chaotic, ruined space before finally reaching the ability user responsible for the current situation. Without even fixing her disheveled breathing or her loose yukata, she tried to approach the collapsed Number 13, only to spot the counselor lying beside her and the strangely long black-haired girl silently looking down at the two of them.
"Who are you? What did you do to them?!"
Like the seasoned professional who had survived countless battlefields, she regarded the girl with her pitch-black eyes warily despite the child's small frame. Yet her caution proved meaningless. The girl suddenly plopped down on the spot and lightly patted the tatami floor beside her with her tiny hand, as if inviting the woman closer.
"..."
After a moment of hesitation, the woman carefully stepped forward. Her instincts had long since eliminated attack or retreat as options, and she had confirmed that both Number 13 and the counselor were still alive—their chests rising and falling with steady breaths. Her worried gaze swept over the two of them before finally settling on the counselor's arm and slowly lifting away.
"Do you really think a fundamentally selfish human can truly understand another person?"
The moment she reached the spot right beside where the girl sat, the question came out of nowhere. It was a vague question about whether humans, who carried selfish desires in their hearts no matter how kind they were, could ever truly understand another human being. The question felt oddly detached, and she had no obligation to answer, yet her mouth opened without much delay. She knew her own selfishness well enough that she held little expectation when it came to others understanding her.
"...Probably not."
The reason she still added "probably" was because of the counselor, who had stubbornly tried to understand even someone like her.
"Is that so? Then if you can't truly understand, how can you sincerely apologize? What even is that 'sincerity' in the first place?"
Only after hearing yet another vague question did the woman realize the girl already knew about the relationship between her and Number 13. The question of "how?" was meaningless right now.
"Not thinking of himself as special is one of the few good points about that brother of mine, but that means he needs to put in constant effort to become special."
"..."
Unable to answer the second question, the woman sat down beside the girl and looked at those pitch-black eyes with a reluctant expression. The girl had a cute appearance, but those black eyes felt disturbingly unsettling. Whether the girl noticed or not, she continued her own story.
"But thinking you can understand someone or heal their emotional wounds just because you've spent a few days together... don't you think that's a little arrogant?"
This wasn't really a question directed at the woman. The black eyes were looking down at the counselor, and her small, soft palm was gently stroking his cheek.
The woman couldn't quite grasp what this suddenly appeared girl was trying to say, but she didn't sense any hostility. That didn't mean her wariness toward the girl had eased, though.
"Ah, right. What about you?"
"...?"
The girl suddenly withdrew her hand from the counselor's cheek and looked straight into the woman's red eyes, a faint smile forming on her lips.
"I might be able to help you apologize sincerely."
That smile seemed to mock the woman, yet it also looked simply pleased, carrying a hint of playful mischief.
"...Does that have anything to do with solving the current situation?"
"Are you asking whether these two can wake up, or whether we can escape this reversed world?"
"Obviously both."
The girl's smile deepened as she quietly watched the woman answer without losing her composure even now.
"I see. You're a greedy one, aren't you?"
"...I hear that a lot. So what exactly can you help with?"
It would be a lie to say she wasn't uneasy seeing that deep smile on the girl's face, but the woman wasn't the type to waste time with vague probing. As if pleased by that attitude, the girl took the counselor's hand and held it out toward the woman.
"Right now, through this brother's ability... even a greedy girl like you should be able to go inside."