Choice 1

The might of the Saint Legion was nothing like that of a typical corporate combat unit. These were the finest elites, meticulously cultivated by a megacorp that ruled the world—a fitting imperial guard.

"Abandon the upper floors entirely. Consolidate on the lower levels. Form a thick defensive line."

Klaus's command skills were undeniably impressive as he directed his forces against them.

"Overwhelm them with numbers—no fancy tricks."

He was especially adept at handling elite opponents.

"Don't get caught in the enemy's tactical maneuvers. Hold your positions. We are the defenders."

The Saint Legion pressed ferociously, while Klaus's private soldiers resisted. Their brutal clash had dragged on for over two hours.

"Even mechanized units are just infantry inside a building. Punch through their cyberware with armor-piercing rounds."

Yet even they had a force they couldn't withstand.

"Ignore the electronic warfare. If an attack comes, shut down your cyberware. No bitmancer can seize control of all of ImmuneWire."

"S-Sir..."

A soldier beside Klaus, who had been issuing orders from underground, spoke up.

"...Why can't they do it?"

Klaus sighed at the foolish question in this dire situation but responded calmly. A leader needed patience to keep the rank and file fighting.

"Can you drive a car and fly a plane at the same time?"

"..."

"Trying to control every electronic device in ImmuneWire HQ is the same. Humans can't do it."

The headquarters was too vast. As a megacorp spanning the globe, total domination of the entire structure was impossible. At least in theory.

"Then that means... they're a god or something?"

"What?"

The soldier pointed skyward. Klaus looked up, activating his cyberspace vision. His eyes glowed blue, but what awaited was a pristine white sky.

Pure white data, originating from the rooftop of ImmuneWire HQ, was infiltrating every system in the building, slowly descending.

Klaus and countless others stared in stunned silence. If a god descended from the heavens, would it look like this? There were bitmancers in the Saint Legion too, yet their presence went unfelt. Klaus's own bitmancers could only gape in awe at the miraculous sight.

If a god had come to earth, this is how mortals would react.

"Is that really... just one person doing this?"

Now he understood the Saint Legion's cries of "Messiah" and "Maria." What had Cashian Krabets been like in his prime? No, even he couldn't have done this. The princess wasn't a second Cashian. This was the one and only Neige.

Soldiers' morale plummeted like dripping water, and the enemy surged with momentum. Klaus was clearly losing.

Six hours remained until Erebus's activation. They couldn't hold out that long like this.

In that moment, Klaus blankly recalled his past. The brilliant talent, passion, genius with which he'd challenged the world. The self who'd believed sharp talent could shatter any wall. The past where he'd crashed against that wall and shattered.

Was it truly just a lack of talent that kept him from changing the world? No, talent was decided at birth. He couldn't accept that the luck of one's birth set the limits of life.

The collective was stronger than the individual. Even if that individual was a god.

"...Destroy or shut down all electronics and cyberware."

"Sir, we can't win against the Saint Legion like that."

"Doesn't matter! Winning isn't the point. Just endure."

Killing the enemy wasn't key. Erebus would decide everything.

"Is the Erebus reconfiguration complete?"

"Yes, sir."

"Advance the activation."

"...Sir! Erebus will become unstable."

"No choice."

Klaus turned to those slated for Erebus insertion.

"You'll replace the 'Saint' Cashian now."

Ecstasy lit their faces—the very reason he'd selected them.

"Ready for the glory?"

"Yes, sir!"

Klaus gestured, and technicians hesitantly manipulated Erebus.

Seated in the electronic warfare chair "Constellation" provided by the Saint Legion, I kept hacking relentlessly.

This was ImmuneWire HQ. Machines ripe for my exploitation surrounded me on all sides. With V and Z's support, I seized them one by one, absorbing their processing power as fuel for further hacks. Repeating this infinitely would conquer the entire HQ.

A task possible only with AI backing.

My brain feels like it's melting. This must be my limit.

[Master's brain is still within safe parameters.]

[Still safe.]

'Just a figure of speech.'

'How much time left?'

[5 hours until next activation.]

I gazed down at Erebus below. Humanity's bastion stood unscarred amid the war. I'd pushed the enemy back considerably. With five hours left, victory might be possible.

Then Erebus suddenly spewed massive data streams in all directions.

"...Chairman, you seeing this?"

I urgently contacted him, and a reply came swiftly.

Judging by the battlefield, Klaus had deemed five hours untenable.

"We have to stop it. Send our experiment results to Klaus..."

My mouth moved before my frantic mind caught up, but I trailed off. Klaus wasn't naive enough to trust the enemy. Why his obsession with Erebus? Legitimacy.

Even if his faction died here, operating Erebus without Cashian would be etched eternally. That granted Klaus all justification. To humanity, Erebus meant that much.

The problem was succeeding.

I stared at the white data spreading like paint.

My abilities had surpassed human limits. Not arrogance—an objective assessment. So, beyond simple judgment, I pondered what only I could do.

"Hack Erebus...?"

He'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠overheard my mutter, his voice trembling. But he didn't stop me.

The opponent was Erebus. I understood his concern.

"...Just take out whoever's controlling Erebus."

No Erebus system could be destroyed. Only the humans inside—precisely targeted. A gamble against hacking's essence.

"But someone's gotta do it."

Not out of kindness. Ignoring this chance would haunt me forever.

A familiar voice whispered then. Svetlana.

"What method?"

V reacted instantly.

[Optimal strategy.]

[No need for direct confrontation with Erebus.]

A physical breach in reality, not cyberspace.

"...Sis, let's do this."

One: I draw the gaze of the collective controlling Erebus, preventing horrific orders.

Two: Svetlana breaches the underground, opening the core path.

On success, I infiltrate and eliminate the collective.

Strategy briefing over, I shifted consciousness toward Erebus.

There it was. The core of the system safeguarding humanity: Erebus. Like a giant beholding the Great Wall.

This entity had upheld Erebus until now. But...

Strange data streamed from afar. Neither human nor inhuman. It entered the giant's body, puppeteering eerie movements.

"Uh.!@$%..Uh?"

Noisy, garbled form and voice. Brutal. A shattered human personality?

Why did every attempt at paradise on this earth birth hell?

[Prediction: Collective will act in shared unison.]

Their shared action was clear: Defend Erebus, repel intruders. Above all, view me as enemy.

"%!!#Princess...?"

The giant raised a hand. A massive barrier formed to shield it.

The collective meant to replace Cashian, fused with Erebus.

Fine. Let's fight.

"Our goal is the entrance to the Erebus core."

"Yes, ma'am!"

In reality, countless units advanced on the Erebus management facility. Among them, Svetlana's Secretariat 3.

She racked her rifle, checking the armor-piercing round in the chamber. It could penetrate even chitin cyberware.

Gazing at it, Svetlana recalled first meeting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the chairman—the only time she'd held such ammo and failed to kill.

Svetlana had been a street mercenary. Unlike money-chasing grunts, she sought meaningful work over dirty assassinations, personal vendettas, trash cleanup for the rich.

She chose Cashian Krabets's assassination.

ImmuneWire hyped their chairman as a "saint," but she dismissed it as propaganda. Judgment for a fake idol.

Breaching his rare public event's security, she reached him—and faced reality.

"Why..."

All the hype was true. A frail body that couldn't withstand bullets or fists. Even with a gun to his head, he monitored Erebus data.

Her world crumbled. She loathed her past self, who'd mocked elites from the gutters as nightly solace. That loathing lingered as her flawed philosophy, but she embraced it to distance her old self.

Instead, she chose a new life.

"...Child, breaching security to reach here—impressive."

The life Cashian spared her for.

"Work by my side?"

Truly meaningful work. He gave her what she craved. Her loyalty endured, extending to following Neige.

Those two would change the world. She was their guarding knight. Nothing filled her heart more.

Her steps breaching the underground held no hesitation or fear—thanks to that conviction.

They reached a place familiar to any ImmuneWire secretary: the emperor's throne room, entrance to the Erebus core.

And predictably, Klaus and his secretaries held the defensive line.

Svetlana discarded her rifle, drawing a pistol loaded with armor-piercing rounds and an ultrasonic knife. Her secretaries followed suit.

"They favor smoke grenades. Check your lung cyberware."

"All clear, Director!"

The secretaries drew smoke grenades in unison.

Just before entry, Svetlana declared gravely.

"Secretariat 3—if we fail here, Erebus falls."

"..."

"Spare no lives."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Multiple smoke grenades erupted, filling the room with toxic fog. Led by Svetlana, all charged in.

Gunfire and shouts mingled in the haze. Svetlana clashed daggers with Klaus.

"Svetlana...!"

Klaus roared with venom. Pistols aimed, then parried with daggers. Hand-to-hand, knife work, CQB— their elite skills made it artistry, each wound deeply carved.

"...!"

Svetlana's abdomen stabbed. She twisted her pistol, embedding a bullet in Klaus's shoulder.

Shattered cyberware scattered; Klaus shoved her back. Distance opened; they fired into the fog, hard to hit fast-moving foes.

In the fierce melee, Klaus sensed anomaly.

Strange. My subordinates entered Erebus. They should broadcast success via its systems. No response.

Activating cyberspace vision revealed shock.

"...One-on-one with Erebus?"

A bitmancer endured Erebus's torrent: Princess Neige.

No time for awe. Svetlana charged, firing and slashing.

Klaus's mind reeled. Her desperation to breach—was it...!

"Saint Legion!"

More soldiers poured in. Melee tangled chaotically; Svetlana's secretaries swarmed Klaus.

"Director! Go!"

Svetlana broke off, dashing for the core.

"...Stop!"

Klaus shook them, firing. Bullets struck her back and legs; she collapsed.

But crawled on, trailing blood.

The blood on that path the chairman had trod endlessly reached the Erebus core.

Svetlana yanked a cable from her wrist, plugging into the core. Smiling faintly,

"...Miss, success."

I plunged into Erebus's massive data wave. Shattering it, Erebus unleashed stronger barrages endlessly.

Amid the fray, success signal received—I turned to the new bypass route.

'Z?'

[99%... 100%. Tuning complete!]

[Personality restoration tech based on Master's 'enlightenment code'!]

Reversing the integration module, fused with my enlightenment code. I grasped Z's relayed "book," leaping into the bypass.

My data transmitted; I arrived inside the giant: Erebus control system.

I charged the collective without hesitation. Unpredicted internal emergence. The restoration code in my dagger injected into their system.

"...Done!"

I broadcast success to all.

The Erebus broadcast shattered focus. Fighters paused, eyeing each other warily, lowering weapons.

This included the secretaries at the entrance. A Saint Legion medic tended the fallen Svetlana before the core. Klaus's and her secretaries set down arms.

Soon, the Erebus core door opened; about five people stumbled out.

Symbolizing Klaus's defeat.

He stared blankly, thinking.

"Why didn't my subordinates follow orders?"

They should've announced "Cashian replacement" success regardless of interference. Even from Neige or Saints. Crucial for the coup.

"...Because they weren't sane."

A weary voice broke the silence. Cashian Krabets.

"...Here's the flaw Neige found in your research."

Cashian tossed a USB. Detailing the collective's failure, omitting AI tests.

Klaus, stunned, plugged it in.

"I... was wrong?"

"Yes."

Secretaries rushed to the chairman.

"Chairman! Why are you here? Dangerous!"

"The danger... isn't me."

Cashian shuffled unsteadily toward the core, needing support.

"Erebus forced into activation without cleanup; operators ejected. Know what that means...?"

No one to manage Erebus now.

All activated cyberspace vision, beholding the core's twisting data structure.

"...I'll enter."

"No!"

Svetlana clutched her gut, grabbing him.

"...Chairman hasn't fully recovered. You could die."

"This world's state is my fault. Humanity cowering behind this unstable wall—my fault."

Guilt over Alphabet paralyzed him.

"The risk is mine. Otherwise..."

He advanced. Secretaries hesitated to block—their savior and old friend Noam beckoned from beyond.

As distance closed,

"Stop."

Neige intervened. She'd risen from Constellation, descending to the underground.

"...This is nauseating."

Neige continued slowly.

"Forcing one person's sacrifice to extend humanity's lifespan... too much."

Her sorrowful voice stirred hearts.

"How long will you cling to sacrifice?"

"Then what?!" Cashian shouted, unable to bear it.

"Only I can enter! Klaus proved it!"

Neige shook her head, incredulous.

"One more."

"...What?"

Neige tapped her temple.

"You can't mean..."

"Countless sacrificed already. Dying as legends or living forgotten. Enough."

Neige advanced.

"My era won't be like that. Legends live eternally..."

All watched silently as she passed Klaus, Cashian, the secretaries.

"...basking in everlasting glory."

If Klaus's collective succeeded, it'd legitimize him. But if Princess Neige entered Erebus and succeeded in replacing Cashian?

The princess treading the emperor's path.

Saint Legionnaires knelt en masse. Neige, on the blood-soaked knight's path, wore a strangely free expression.

'...Why?'

'I know.'

'Yeah.'

'Because I have the power.'

A principle never broken.

Inside Erebus, a chair linked to countless machines. Neige reclined slowly.

Cables snaked to connect her body; reality overlaid cyberspace, revealing V and Z.

They'd bundled Erebus controls into one program—a crown-like visage, drawing a chuckle.

Neige reflected on her path. Revived by machine hands, born not from a womb but a vat. Sixteen years to here.

She smiled contentedly.

"...No regrets."

Eyes closing, the princess decreed.

"V."

This was coronation.

"Z."

A manifesto heralding a new era.

"Crown me."

Undoubtedly, the birth of a new emperor.