Chapter 5
Chapter 5
In this world, it must have been around ten years ago.
It all began with a meteor that suddenly fell from the sky.
Where it came from, why it came, who sent it.
Humanity here never even had the luxury to ask such questions in the first place.
The rate of contamination was too fast, to the point that even scientists in heavy protective suits were infected the moment they approached it.
The initial invasive colony that came with the meteor was less a living organism and more a mass of combined organic molecules.
What people now call Xenobeasts were entities that polluted planetary environments to suit themselves and absorbed genetic information from native lifeforms to evolve at extreme speed.
In the process, they consumed, mutated, and reconfigured both organic and inorganic matter without distinction.
Some became massive cell-like clusters that no longer resembled anything recognizable.
Others became biological weapons refined by retaining only the advantages of existing lifeforms.
Some even mimicked the operational principles of machines, creating grotesque imitations of technology itself.
If they had remained completely unpredictable, humanity would have already fallen.
But at some point, they began to converge into stable forms based on absorbed genetic data.
Thanks to that, humans were able to classify their traits, ecosystems, and weaknesses, and give them names.
Not full understanding, but enough to know what to kill first.
And so humanity spent ten years slowly being pushed back, yet still managing to protect cities and people.
And I was still standing in the middle of that war.
The aircraft took off.
It flew through the sky.
And arrived inside the belly of the whale.
As it forced its way through torn flesh and membrane, the interior was strangely quiet.
And there he stood.
The major.
Exactly as he had been, red scarf, flight jacket, the same man who had raised his hand at me before departing.
He did not smile.
He did not resent me.
He simply stood there, as if he had been waiting.
His eyes, even as he flew into the whale, were unnaturally calm.
But the explosion never came.
The major simply disappeared.
Uselessly.
Meaninglessly.
The Sky Whale released its bodily fluids.
Screams erupted everywhere.
People were crushed like dry leaves under falling mass.
My mistake.
Because of me, because I made the wrong contract.
“Haa—!”
I opened my eyes.
I was drenched in sweat, the damp blanket clinging to my body.
Only after realizing it was a dream could I finally breathe out.
I covered my face with my hands and curled up for a while.
“Damn it… damn it.”
I was soaked as if I had been thrown into rain.
Every time a contract ended, it was always like this.
I never agreed to this kind of price with the devil.
Things that never happened, possibilities that could have happened, they all ate away at my mind.
I pushed the wet blanket off and stripped the sheets, throwing them into the washing machine.
My throat felt dry as sandpaper, and my legs trembled as I forced myself to stand.
I staggered to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold can of beer.
The sound of the tab opening echoed through the room.
Cold foam slid down my throat.
I drank until the can was empty, swallowing repeatedly without stopping.
The devil watched the entire time from the sofa.
As always.
“…What is that look supposed to be?”
Only then did I turn and properly look at it.
The devil was no longer in its usual form.
It had taken the appearance of a girl, around fifteen years old.
Perfect silver hair and unnaturally clear blue eyes.
A mouth that looked like it was smiling even when it wasn’t.
Just sitting there was enough to make people uncomfortable.
“That look again,” I muttered.
The devil only grinned.
“Fran, you have a visitor.”
“…A visitor? At this hour?”
If the devil called it a visitor, then it probably wasn’t someone throwing insults or causing trouble.
I glanced at the clock.
5:30 a.m.
Early, but not impossible.
But why wasn’t the guest in the living room?
Someone that urgent should already be inside.
A bad feeling crept in.
“You didn’t…”
“You didn’t give permission, so I didn’t let them in.”
The devil said it casually, sipping coffee.
This damn shameless bastard.
I threw on a coat without even drying off properly and rushed to the front door.
I opened it quickly.
“Ah.”
On the cold steps outside the office sat a child.
Maybe just over ten years old.
An age that should have been filled with laughter and school days.
But the child’s eyes were already dead.
The moment the door opened, she looked up at me.
And the moment our eyes met, I couldn’t breathe.
Those eyes.
They overlapped perfectly with the major’s eyes from my nightmare.
……
I brought the small guest inside and seated her.
“Want some snacks? Or tea?”
“Ah… t-thank you.”
The devil casually placed tea and snacks in front of her.
Something it had never once offered me.
The child glanced at it curiously.
Even from her perspective, it was hard to see the devil as anything but human.
“Wait a moment. I’ll be right back.”
I quickly wiped myself down, changed into something presentable, and returned to sit across from her.
“Sorry for the wait.”
“It’s okay…”
The child hesitated, then began placing items on the table one by one.
Documents.
An appointment letter.
A death notice.
A medal.
Military-issued items.
Folded, creased, worn from being handled too many times.
She had clearly read them over and over.
Tears had dried in places, leaving faint stains.
After laying them out carefully, she looked straight at me.
“These are my dad’s.”
There was no need to ask who her father was.
I already knew.
Marcus.
No, now promoted posthumously to colonel.
“…So you’re Colonel Marcus’s daughter.”
“Yes. My name is Lina.”
“…I’m Fran.”
An awkward silence followed.
I broke it first.
“You understand what those documents say?”
“Yes. I can read. I read everything.”
I looked at her.
She knew everything before coming here.
After a brief hesitation, she asked.
“Did you make my dad contract with a devil?”
She wasn’t crying.
She wasn’t even holding it in.
She had already learned that crying wouldn’t change anything.
“Yes. I was the one who mediated the contract.”
I didn’t hide it.
There was no reason to lie.
I couldn’t separate myself from his death.
“I know why my dad went. I don’t know everything, but… I know enough.”
Her voice was steady, though damp.
“Then tell me why you came.”
I forced the words out.
Was it revenge?
No. I couldn’t assume that.
This was a child who had lost her family because of a choice I helped create.
Whatever answer came next, I had to hear it properly.
“So I can understand.”
She looked down briefly, then raised her eyes again.
“My dad said something.”
I stayed silent.
“He told me not to worry. That he’s a coward compared to mom, so he would never leave me behind.”
A pause.
“He said he would come back.”
Her fingers trembled slightly.
“He said he would definitely return home.”
Soldiers from G-51 searched for days.
In the end, only fragments of his body were recovered.
He had only kept part of his promise.
I couldn’t say anything.
“So I had to know.”
She pressed her finger lightly on the document.
“No, I needed to know.”
“If he went there even after promising me, then there had to be a reason.”
“…”
“If I don’t know that, I won’t know how to think of my dad.”
That was why she came.
A heavy silence settled.
Those words sank into me more deeply than expected.
She wasn’t crying.
But she wasn’t whole either.
She had come here to understand the truth behind a death.
War makes children grow up too fast.
But if I was one of the reasons for that.
And if that child was now sitting in front of me, looking at me.
It felt like something was tightening around my throat, making it hard to breathe.