Shall We Test It?

Signed

Another One

The sum of every death Another One had ever dealt came down in a clustered host. In shape, he was not so different from Death One: a face sunk in shadow, a frame the eye refused to recognize. He had a person's hands, feet, and trunk, and still he was not a being that could be classed as humankind.

There was, however, one decisive difference.

Caliber.

Or presence.

Death One alone possessed a caliber fit to crush most beings of chief-god rank. The day he was loosed upon the world, that world would fall into a peril without precedent, and might have to live forever braced for its own end. Another One stood several dimensions beyond even that. His mere existence warped the world and broke it. One misplaced step, and everything from crust to mantle would snap like dry straw; one cough aimed at the sun, and the sun would gutter out like a candle.

The Another One of the present kept his strength in check, for reasons both undisclosed and personal, and so the Earth could remain safe. The Another One of that age had made no such effort. The Earth of those days had not been frail. It was a time when myths were born in droves and perished in droves—a time when the weak died, and simply failed to survive. Earth had adapted to that age as well: a planet that offered myth a ground on which to endure. Even among the worlds of the cosmos, it had been reasonably sturdy. Sturdy enough that Another One might use his power a little carelessly.

The figure before them was a reproduction of that little. No—if anything, weaker still. Were a trifle like the Book of Death able to reproduce him in full, then across all the past and future of the universe there would be no being anywhere fit to hold it.

"……"

The Phantom Thief curled his hands until they went white. The pressure bearing down on his shoulders was an discomfort he refused to accept.

The air is different.

At their two previous meetings, Another One had been gentlemanly, careful of his manners. He had watched the room a little, and knowing his own position, he had been cautious. A few tens of thousands of years ought to have been a mere instant in that life. Could a being change this much?

A few tens of thousands of years would be a blink of his life. And he's this different?

The Another One that death had rendered was a hegemon king in the flesh. Anyone who stood in his path, he would kill. Thirsty, he would slake himself on an enemy's blood; hungry, he would tear the flesh; if they fled, he would chase them to the end of the universe and cut them down. Was it only that he had come from a world where battle was ordinary? Or had Another One grown milder as the years went by? Even the Phantom Thief, who had glimpsed a limited future, could not guess. In everything he knew, Another One was a biased, narrow creature.

"……"

Another One did not take his eyes from the Phantom Thief. The book in his hand flopped and jerked as if an earthquake had hold of it, and he paid it no mind at all. He only stared, the way one stares at a form of life one finds profoundly interesting.

The Phantom Thief did not look away, as if to say he would not lose. There was no part of the other that could properly be called an eye, so he glared at the place where a human's eyes would have been.

"Dark."

That was Another One's first word. Dark. And a white sun blazed up in the world of death.

A soundless detonation tore the dark apart.

"……!"

It happened in an instant. The Phantom Thief thought of Hong Yumin's word-command: the act of loading will into language and driving one's intent straight through the world. Another One had spent that authority on a grumble.

He gathered a mind that had nearly been blown clean away. When his sight returned and he looked about, the gloom was gone. Only a world washed pure white remained. He felt like a black dot on a sheet of blank paper, and he found the other dot.

Another One was fluttering the Book of Death. Sensing the Phantom Thief draw near, he shut it.

"Curious. And strange."

"Does it fascinate you, being a reproduced fake?"

"That is part of it, though it does not weigh so heavily. If this book is a fragment cut from Forever, then it ought to manage at least this much."

He spoke of his own falseness as if it were only natural.

"What is strange is the situation. How did a copy of me come bursting out, where have they thrown the tree I went to such trouble to raise, and why am I here?"

"The future, it seems, cannot be known. ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The present me must have found this rather entertaining."

"And what are you? Human, are you?"

"I am human. I am also a phantom thief."

"If you are human, then you are human. What is a phantom thief supposed to be? Incomprehensible."

Another One shook his head.

"What does it matter. I have leapt the past and come into the future, so I ought to enjoy this moment to the full."

He could not remain for long in any case.

Watching him, the Phantom Thief felt a strange wrongness.

He looks at me and feels nothing.

This Another One had not recognized that he came from the Origin. Even that small fry, Lucifer, had known. So had the Three Noble Gods.

What is this difference?

Had someone, across a few tens of thousands of years, started offering a lecture on how to spot people from the Origin?

…He really is different.

And yet familiar.

The Phantom Thief set aside the conclusion rising from the bottom of his heart. Confirmation could wait. For now, he had to decide what to do about the one in front of him, the one who looked ready to hum his way through the whole affair.

"What is your name?"

Zeus's lightning speared down. Ra's sun climbed, and the law of Yuanshi Tianzun magnified a god's power to its peak.

"Phantom Thief Do Kyung."

He stole the lightning and hurled it at the sun. No law could bind a phantom thief. Boom, boom, boom—the authorities of the highest gods were squandered and shattered like common tricks, and the two of them treated the miracle as everyday scenery.

"A single character?"

"Three. You aren't qualified to hear the last."

"It puts me in mind of the old days. ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Everyone who tested me died in the Great War, you know."

"The Great War…"

The Phantom Thief stamped out the flame of the Flame Emperor Shennong and turned the words over.

"You know of the Great War? Did I tell you?"

"No. I came to know it on my own."

"A remarkable ability. To think you would know the Great War. I wonder by what path."

Well. If he said he had learned it from a ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠comic book, would the other believe him? For some reason, the Phantom Thief decided he must not say it—not even as a joke.

"And do you mean to keep using nothing but the powers of gods you've killed? I took those apart a long time ago."

"Is that so? Then the present me must have had quite the lively bout with you. Well, now. Half the fun is gone."

Another One clicked his tongue and put away Pangu's axe.

"Then I shall have to fight with the finest weapon I possess."

With one hand he snapped the Book of Death open. Deaths of every kind painted the pure-white world.

"The copied me used this book only to reproduce death, I suppose?"

"Yes. Which is why you're here, isn't it?"

"Hm. It is not a wrong way to use it. Neither is it the way that draws out the book's full power."

He laid his palm over the page.

"The useful application of this book is for I myself to become death."

"It is a book that handles death. Is there any law that says its user must not become death?"

"You're already made of death."

"A mere record of the past. Hardly enough to be called true death."

"Phantom Thief."

"Death is not a thing anyone can handle. Slaves of the universe, such as we are, only handle the dregs of nature."

"God of XX. Ruler of XXX."

"All of them are frauds. They cannot put even ten percent of the epithets hung upon them to use."

"Quite the grand realization."

"So."

"You said you would become true death. What percent of death can you actually reach?"

"Try it, and we shall know."

"Before that."

"Kh!"

"First I must do something about this unstable carcass."

Another One drew Death One out as casually as a coin from a pocket. Caught by the nape, Death One dangled.

"I thought he'd been annihilated in the sun. Did you set him aside?"

"For a copy, the workmanship was considerable. Enough that one might treat him as a life in his own right."

"Let go of me!"

Death One resonated the death inside him with the Book of Death. Another One startled at the waver in his control.

"Astonishing. So this is a child born of death."

"Release me, ghost of the past! If you mean to enjoy yourself, enjoy it properly and get out!"

"Unlike you, a resident of this world, I am on a time limit. If I am to enjoy myself, I am sorry, but I must ask your understanding."

"Gyaaaaaah!!!"

Another One's whole body came apart. Black sand seeped inward through Death One.

"Kehek!!!"

Death One threw his head back in midair. His voice rattled as if a stone had lodged in his throat, and his presence thinned.

"Hm."

A moment later, the only one who set foot upon the ground was Another One.

"The union is a success. The output passes as well."

"All done?"

"Did you wait long?"

"I was lying on a sofa. Lost track of the time."

The Phantom Thief tucked away the sofa he had drawn from his sleeve.

"Far too much leisure. Now that I have taken on flesh, I should think I can learn the rest of your name."

"You carry a joke too far."

"Does it seem a joke?"

Another One's voice sank. A cold wind, sharp with snow, brushed the cheek. The world of ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠death withdrew, and the landscape of the Arctic returned. Behind the Phantom Thief, his companions swallowed their breath.

"I should think I have been ignored long enough."

"The one closest to death in this place is not I."

"It is you."

"Is that so?"

The Phantom Thief laughed, short and thin. Then his expression went utterly cold.

A chill.

Another One stepped back on instinct.

The Phantom Thief dusted off his hands. Another One projected death onto him—a death that ignored time and space alike. If Another One willed it, death was accomplished on the spot. The Phantom Thief ignored it. Ignored it outright. He even took Another One from behind.

A light tap.

Another One's vision spun. The hard floor of ice rose up to greet him, and struck with a crack.