Same Bed, Different Dreams (2)

Amid industrial wastewater falling in a steady drizzle, two swordsmen stood facing each other.

One of them was a being whose entire body was machine.

Ash spoke.

"Have we not met before, by chance?"

At those words, the figure wrapped head to toe in black techwear—even his face concealed behind a mask—shrugged.

"I rather doubt it. Had I ever met someone as distinctive as yourself, Young Master, I could hardly have forgotten. This is our first meeting."

"Is that so. How curious."

"Curious in what way, may I ask?"

"Not a day ago, I crossed paths with a ninja who called himself Zero."

"···."

After a brief pause, the ninja spoke.

"What sort of 'mask' was he wearing?"

"A wolf mask."

"Did you kill him?"

Ash shook his head.

"He slipped away."

"I see."

The ninja—Zero—let out a deep sigh. What meaning lay behind that sigh, Ash could not tell.

"...It seems I have yet to hear either of your introductions."

"Is an introduction necessary?"

"Naturally. You are carrying the data chip, are you not?"

At that, Ash stared at the man for a moment, then drew a data chip from his coat and held it up—the very chip in question, overlaid with a blue hologram.

"You mean this?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. In that case, I cannot help but ask. How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do you know of this chip's existence? And how did you know that it was in our possession?"

"I didn't."

"Your words and the situation don't quite align."

"...Did Brother Rudolph tell you nothing at all?"

"There was no opportunity for such talk."

"Hah. What on earth is going on with everything."

Zero muttered briefly, shook his head a couple of times, then pointed at the chip Ash was holding.

"That chip carries a tracking device. One Brother Rudolph planted. I've been following its signal. After you went up to the surface, the signal cut out and I was wondering what had become of it—then it showed up again."

"So you followed that signal here?"

"That's right. And that is how we came to meet. You two, that is."

He extended one hand.

"Will you hand it over now? It is something I truly need."

"I see. That much, I understand."

Ash clenched his hand.

"So you were Rudolph's client all along."

Then he tucked the data chip back into his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠breast pocket.

"Which is why this chip is not something I can give you."

Watching him, Zero withdrew his outstretched hand and brought it to rest on the blade hanging at his waist.

"...Might I ask what you mean by that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. I cannot give you this chip."

Ash readjusted his grip on the blade he carried.

"We came to return this chip to its rightful owner."

"Return it...? You mean to give it back to Memoryphilia?"

"Memoryphilia? So they're the original owners, are they?"

"...Why? Why on earth would you return the chip to them?"

"That is none of your concern."

In an instant, the density of the air between them changed.

"...I see. You were never here to see a job through to the end."

Industrial wastewater cascading from the pipelines settled onto the shoulders of both men. But neither moved so much as an inch—each simply stared the other down.

"···."

"···."

A moment passed like that.

Then Zero spoke.

"I regret that it has come to this."

"I feel much the same."

-KAAAAAANG!

The sudden eruption of clashing steel split the silence in two.

The blades of the two swordsmen, the distance between them already collapsed, met in a burst of scarlet sparks that bloomed through the dark of Underland.

'...This is impossible.'

Seren held her breath, staring blankly at the scene unfolding before her.

She, too, was a swordswoman who shone at rank one of the Halloween rankings, and she trusted herself not to so much as blink at any ordinary fight.

But what was happening before her eyes was no ordinary fight. It was closer to a dance of blades performed by two giants.

Ash's sword, as it always was, flowed with matchless grace—like a dragon gliding above the clouds. Every sword-path he traced carried an indescribable depth to it.

One moment he extended softly, deflecting his opponent's force away; the next, he was boring into an opening with explosive momentum.

It was a sight impossible to tear one's eyes from—as though he were demonstrating with his own body that distant realm so vaguely lumped together as 'the highest plane of mastery.'

And that was precisely why Seren could not help but be astonished.

Because his opponent—Zero—was receiving that sword.

In all of Seren's memory, not a single soul had ever properly held Ash's blade.

Not her.

Not the ninja she'd encountered at the rest stop.

And certainly not the unidentified Sentinel she'd faced in the Outer, the one that had driven her to the very brink of death!

'He's receiving Ash's sword? That nameless ninja?'

-KANG! KAGAGANG!

Before the unbelievable spectacle, Seren sharpened her focus and studied the ninja's swordsmanship in detail.

Zero's sword was, beyond question, on an entirely different track from Ash's.

Nothing flashy about it. Nothing graceful.

Instead, every movement was condensed with pure efficiency—without a single wasted motion—and a keen, lethal killing intent.

The fastest path to killing one's opponent.

The most certain move.

That, and nothing more, was the will embodied in his blade.

And yet—why was it?

Looking closer, she noticed something else as well.

'They look... alike?'

The swordplay of these two duelists, so utterly different at a glance, resembled each other in some strange, indefinable way.

Like two wildly divergent branches growing from the same tree at their roots.

-KAAAANG!

Zero's sword surged upward from below in a treacherous, sneaking arc. Ash deflected it with uncanny footwork, then scattered his blade in a diagonal sweep, low to high.

Zero barely blocked it, then reversed his opponent's momentum to spin a full revolution and attempted a massive horizontal cut.

Ash raised his edge vertical to receive the force, spun a full revolution in kind, and aimed for the man's lower guard.

A swift exchange of advance and retreat—yet without a single step given ground.

It was no longer a mere battle.

Reading each other's moves, striking back, probing for openings.

It was closer to a conversation conducted through swords.

At some point, Seren had forgotten her very purpose, her whole mind seized by the sword-dance of the two giants—she had even forgotten to blink.

-KANG!

Just as that breathless exchange continued on, Zero suddenly leapt high into the air, tearing open the distance between them.

"···."

A voice tinged with bewilderment drifted out from beyond the expressionless tiger mask.

"Who are you, Young Master?"

"Did we not already settle that question?"

Ash answered calmly, his stance still unbroken. At that reply, Zero shook his head roughly.

Then, making no effort whatsoever to hide the turmoil in his heart, he shouted in a trembling voice.

"That is not what I'm asking about!"

"It seems I've startled you. Truth be told, I am quite startled myself."

Ash let his blade lower as he continued.

"To think there existed one who had brought the Cloud Dragon Thirteen Swords to twelve-tenths of mastery. Your interpretation of it, likewise, is nothing short of astonishing—so much so that I would be embarrassed to even work up a proper anger over it. Might the 'Brother' the wolf mask spoke of be you, perchance?"

"I asked you who you are!"

At that, Ash's optical sensors flared to life.

"The rightful owner of the sword art you wield."

"Owner? Ha!"

Zero ground the words out through his teeth like a growl.

"I told myself it couldn't be, and then again it couldn't be—and yet here you are. A dog of Omnicell, come all this way after me! All the way to this Underland!"

"...What?"

Omnicell?

Why on earth was the name of Omnicell Biotech surfacing here, of all places, all of a sudden?

"What kind of absurd nonsense is that? Omnicell?"

"You just said it yourself! That you are the rightful owner of this sword art—of Kunlun Combat!"

In that instant, everything about Ash froze.

His optical sensors flickered violently, and his steel frame wavered, ever so slightly.

"...What... did you just say?"

Beneath the warning text blazing up over his optical sensors, Ash clutched his head as he spoke to Zero.

"What did you just call it? Kun... lun?"

His main core roared to life, spinning at a furious rate. His thought circuits ran hot, as though overloaded past their limits.

And at the very center of that turmoil and confusion—

new strings of text flared to life, one after another.

Ash's unsteadiness grew worse.

"Ash! Ash!"

Through his flickering, strobing vision—

the last thing his consciousness registered was Seren sprinting toward him—before it was flung violently into another time, another place.

The first thing he saw when his eyes opened was someone's face.

As with what he had seen before, most of her face was wracked by glitches beyond recognition—but her lips, unusually red and full, remained vividly clear.

"Mister!"

Nangrang.

The girl with that name took 'his' hand and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠led him somewhere. Along with the warmth transmitted from her small hand came an overwhelming surge of anticipation.

"Hehe. Don't be surprised! Well—I mean, it's fine if you are, just don't be TOO surprised, okay?"

To her bright chatter, 'he' answered.

"What on earth has you so worked up, Nangrang?"

"Hihi! I prepared a present for you!"

"A present? For me?"

"Well, who else?"

A present, hm.

What could the gift she had prepared be?

In an instant, everything before his eyes was swallowed by glitches and static, vanishing from sight. At the same moment, another recording began to play.

Before he knew it, 'he' and Nangrang had arrived somewhere.

Their footsteps had come to a stop.

"One, two, three! Mister! Turn around!"

At her words, 'he' turned his body.

The first thing to catch his eye was the girl's red smile—arms spread wide, grinning with pride.

And behind the girl stretched out a kind of courtyard.

Though everything in it was made of iron and pipe, lending the place a strange, grotesque air on one hand.

Rusted iron plates ringing the grounds like a fence.

Pipelines standing in place of pillars.

Some odd structure that could not be told whether it was a building or a pavilion.

But among it all, there was one thing that seized 'his' gaze—a wooden plaque affixed above an iron gate, fashioned like a great door.

A crooked, lopsided wooden plaque—with even a stroke or two of the characters written wrong. Nangrang, who had been pointing at it with pride, beamed brightly.

"Ta-da! It's Kunlun—the place you longed for every single day, Mister!"

At her proud declaration, 'he' gave an awkward smile and shook his head.

"Nangrang. How many times must I tell you? It is not 'Kunlun.' It is Gonryun."

"Kunlun?"

"Gonryun."

"Kunlun?"

"Gonryun!"

At their playful back-and-forth, Nangrang burst into peals of laughter. And at the sight of her so clear and pure, 'he' could not help but smile as well.

"Hihi! Oh, what does it matter! As long as the meaning gets across!"

Nangrang came running, as if to throw herself into his arms.

'He' spread both arms wide toward her.

In a flash, it all vanished—drowned in a rush of RGB-colored noise and glitch.

That was where the recording ended.

"···!"

When Ash's optical sensors regained their light, the first thing he saw was Seren's back, planted firmly in front of him as if to bar his way.

Sword leveled at Zero, she glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of stirring behind her.

"A-Ash! Are you all right?"

Seren asked hurriedly.

At her words, Ash shook his head a couple of times.

"...How long was I out?"

"Not long at all. Ten seconds, maybe?"

Ten seconds, hm.

The recording had seemed far longer than that.

Ash pushed the rising thoughts to one corner of his main core and lifted his head. Zero was still staring this way.

Though the mask hid it from view, he was surely glaring. The sheer pressure flooding his entire frame was anything but ordinary.

Ash took a single step forward.

He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did not raise his sword.

"My name is Ash. Ash Blade. And this is Seren—an idol with Halloween Entertainment."

To this out-of-the-blue introduction, Zero replied.

"Introducing yourself now, at this point? Isn't that a rather strange order of things?"

The words dripped with scorn, but Ash paid them no mind.

"It seems there was a misunderstanding on your part. I merely wished to correct it."

"A misunderstanding? What misunderstanding?"

Ash lowered his blade behind him.

Then, meeting Zero's sharp glare head-on, he spoke.

"I am no dog of Omnicell. If anything... you might say I am closer to their enemy."

"...What is this all of a sudden? Just moments ago, you—"

"But I am also the true owner of the sword art you wield."

Zero said nothing for a long moment.

The silence stretched on, brief as it was.

"Then explain it so I can understand. Ash."

"That was my intent."

At that moment, a clamor rose from the surroundings.

At first he took it for mere city noise, but no—it was a disturbance, unmistakably closing in on their position.

Ash realized it was the sound of countless footsteps mingled with the clamor of metal striking metal. And he realized, too, that at this very moment, only one group could be advancing with such a racket: the Restmen.

"Ash."

"I sense it as well, my lady."

Ash answered curtly, then looked at Zero.

"It appears we each have our own tale to tell. What say we relocate?"

And that was not all—Ash gave a slight tilt of his chin toward the approaching noise.

"Our conversation promises to run rather long, after all—far too long to have it while fending off that."

Zero was silent for a moment, then promptly lowered the blade in his hand into the sheath at his waist.

"...Is there somewhere quiet nearby?"

Ash looked to Seren.

She nodded.

"I'll lead the way."

And with those words, all three of them shot forward at once, as if bound by a shared promise.