EP.2 A Mountain of Corpses, A Sea of Blood
Siren led the two swordsmen to an abandoned water purification facility.
Rows of reservoir tanks stood empty, gaping open like the mouths of grotesque beasts. Among them, cunningly concealed, was a hidden space.
The hideout's interior was thick with dust, as though no human footstep had touched it for years. But by the same token, it was cut off completely from outside threats — an excellent place to hide, all things considered.
"Here it is."
Perhaps because the chamber had once served as a reservoir, her voice echoed low and hollow.
"A fine space."
At Ash's words, Siren nodded and flipped the switch mounted on the wall. The blue lights hanging from the hideout's ceiling flickered several times before sputtering to life with a faint glow.
"Thankfully, they still work."
Bathed in that pale blue radiance, the three swordsmen studied each other for a long moment.
"...Then, let us begin."
In the chilled silence, it was Ash who moved first.
Slowly, deliberately, he drew out his Blade.
"What are you—!"
Zero bolted upright, his hand darting toward his hip.
"Do not be alarmed."
Ash exhaled a low electronic hum at him as he placed the Blade he carried on the table at the center of the hideout.
"I only wish to make things certain."
With the Blade resting on the table, Ash took a single step back.
Zero's gaze flicked between the retreating Ash and the Blade on the table. At last, he spoke quietly.
"You're asking me to lay down my sword?"
"We are hardly a pair brimming with mutual trust, are we? I judged that only this much would let us both focus on words instead of hands."
"..."
Between the two swordsmen and their taut, wary nerves, Siren hesitated briefly — then drew out her own Blade and set it down beside Ash's.
Zero looked from Ash to Siren and back again, then let out a soft sigh.
"...It feels like being stripped naked, honestly."
"So you never let your sword leave you even for a moment."
"Life has not been kind enough to allow it."
Murmuring those words, Zero drew a somewhat shorter Blade of his own and laid it on the table.
And so three Blades of different make gathered upon the table, forming a triangle.
In that space where an uncanny kinship coexisted with razor-edged tension, Ash spoke.
"How about this — we take turns asking one question and giving one answer. In exchange, each of us answers the other's question in good faith, without a single lie."
"A good idea."
Ash nodded.
"Very well. Since I proposed it, you may ask first. Ask what you wish. I will answer without holding anything back."
Zero mulled it over for a moment.
The first question that finally left his lips was, perhaps, a little unexpected.
"How is Rudolph, sir? Is he alive?"
At those words, Ash's optical sensors flickered with something like surprise.
"...A rather striking first question."
"That is not an answer to the question, Ash."
"Ah. My apologies."
Ash gave a short nod.
"He lives. He is being treated as well — under the care of an old acquaintance of mine. You need not worry."
"I see... That is a relief."
"Then it is my turn now."
Ash drew a data chip from within his coat.
"What is this?"
Zero stared at the data chip as he answered Ash's question.
"The administrator-level access key for Memoryphilia's proprietary technology — the memory-editing algorithm known as the Dreamweaver. Or, more precisely, one might call it a kill switch. One capable of resetting everything."
"A kill switch..."
"...Did you truly know nothing at all, sir? Nothing of what that chip signifies?"
"I had heard nothing. I merely accepted a commission to return the chip to its 'rightful owner' and put an end to the conflict."
"Who on earth commissioned you to do such a thing?"
At that, Ash shook his head.
"It is my turn to ask."
"What... didn't you just ask your question, sir?"
"Did I not ask it? Whether you truly knew nothing at all."
"...Ah. Of course."
Zero let out a faint groan.
"Now, my next question."
Ash tilted the chip with a flick of his finger, turning it so the holographic inscription [DREAMWEAVER] caught the light.
"Why do you need the kill switch?"
"..."
Zero understood then.
One question, one answer.
In truth, this was a rule that, far more than it appeared, devoured enormous reserves of mental strength — for the total amount of information each side could extract swung entirely on what was asked. It was no mere exchange of turns.
It demanded cunning: reading the opponent's hand while concealing your own as completely as possible.
Only a short exchange had passed, and already the balance of information had begun to tilt.
Ash was a far trickier opponent than Zero had imagined.
A faint sigh escaped beneath his mask.
'I've been snared. From the very start.'
Zero pushed the swirling thoughts to the back of his mind. It was his turn to answer now.
He considered briefly, then opened his mouth slowly.
"For the sake of Underland."
"...Hm."
Ash folded his arms.
"Isn't that answer a little too careless? If this is how it goes, what meaning is there to our conversation at all?"
"...Fair enough."
"Then let me ask again. Why do you need the kill switch?"
Zero fell silent for a moment.
When he finally spoke, a great many things came pouring out.
"...To save my younger siblings. Right now, my brothers and sisters have had their memories rewritten by the Dreamweaver, and they have been reduced to puppets in the hands of one called 'Maestro.'"
Beneath the flat calm of his words, an unquenchable fury simmered.
"It does not end there. Countless others in Underland have had their memories tampered with and now serve him with total loyalty. Some commit murder against their own will. Some, dressed in rags, are made into prostitutes — at a single beckoning of Maestro's hand!"
Zero pointed at the data chip.
"That chip is what I need to restore their memories. The kill switch — the one thing that can erase every memory he forced upon them."
The words tumbled from Zero like a man unburdening his soul.
Listening, Ash began to rapidly piece together everything that had happened.
Rudolph, bursting in without warning. The ninjas who had raided the rest stop while chasing him. The data chip Santa had handed over. The tiger-masked ninja — Zero. Memoryphilia. The Dreamweaver.
Within Ash's main core, every scattered fragment of information began fitting together into one vast picture.
'So that's it. That's what this was.'
Rudolph had been no mere thief.
Together with Zero, he was a fixer brimming with chivalrous conviction, who had stolen the 'kill switch' — the sole key that could save the countless brainwashed souls of Underland.
Unaware of this, Santa had simply tried to smooth everything over by 'returning' the data chip.
And Santa's choice had been the right one.
He had sought only to erase the conflict entirely — to protect himself, his junior colleague, and the rest stop they called home. It was an operation Ash himself had agreed to.
But there was something neither Santa nor Ash had known.
The true meaning and weight of the data chip.
"Now it's my turn to ask. Correct?"
At Zero's words, Ash, roused abruptly from his thoughts, lifted his head.
"Ask away."
"Why would you return that chip to Memoryphilia? It must never fall into their hands again. Do you know how my brother Rudolph and I suffered to obtain it—"
"Because they threatened what is mine. Once I realized that every quarrel of late hinged on this data chip, I intended to give it back and settle all debts at once. Frankly, it was not a method I much cared for — but at the time, I had no other choice."
Ash turned the chip this way and that in his hand for a moment, then raised his head and looked Zero squarely in the eye.
"But that was then. I have since found something more right, something better."
And with that, he tossed the data chip to Zero.
"...Wha— what?"
Caught utterly off guard, Zero let out a clumsy yelp and fumbled the chip into his hands with a half-stumbled catch.
As Zero cradled the data chip for a moment, Ash spoke.
"Now it's my turn, is it?"
Zero's mind went white. He stammered.
"Wh-what does this mean—"
"Once you have saved your siblings, what then?"
Zero could not keep up with the sudden turn.
"Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?"
"Rewriting human memories at will, to be wielded however one pleases? I find the whole affair distasteful. And those who threatened me and mine? Displeasing in the extreme. So I've been thinking of sweeping the entire organization of Memoryphilia off the face of the earth. Might you be interested?"
"Wh... what?"
At those words, Zero blinked stupidly, twice. Thankfully, he was wearing his mask, and no one saw his face.
Ash's sudden gambit left a brief silence hanging inside the hideout.
For some reason, Siren's eyes had gone bright and sparkling as she stared at Ash.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Ash asked, but she said nothing, only kept blinking those wide eyes at him. Somehow, he found that gaze strangely burdensome.
Zero, on the other hand, had withdrawn into a world of his own, needing no interaction with anyone — clutching the data chip Ash had given him as though it were the most precious thing alive.
After a while, Zero spoke.
"Can I really trust you?"
His voice was thick with wariness — but listen closely, and there was more beneath it.
Joy at finally holding the kill switch in his hands. Fury at Memoryphilia, surging up from his gut. Grief for his siblings, who might be manipulated even at this very moment.
And last of all — a fighting spirit that lifted its head, resonating with Ash's vow to sweep them all away.
It seemed a tempest of every emotion at once.
Ash regarded him and let out a low electronic hum.
"I have already handed you the data chip. If you say that now, what more could I possibly prove? Tell me — can perfect trust ever truly exist between us to begin with?"
Then he gave a low chuckle.
"In times like these, one simply goes. No second-guessing, no quibbling. Forward."
"...Forward."
Zero raised his head, the data chip clutched in his fist.
"Very well."
The confusion in his voice quickly hardened into something resolute. It was a kind of vow.
"I will join you, sir."
Ash gave a short nod.
"That is reassuring."
"Ah — but, if I may."
Zero's gaze drifted to the three Blades resting on the table.
"We still have matters left to discuss between us, don't we?"
What he wished to speak of was the sword.
Why did Ash wield the same sword art as he did? It was, in essence, that question.
Ash, much as Zero had done, gazed at the three swords upon the table for a long while.
"......"
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"...True. We have not yet spoken of it. But let us leave it for now. It is only proper that we deal with the matter at hand first, wouldn't you say?"
"...I can't argue with that."
"Good. Then let us plan our operation. Rescuing your siblings seems the sensible first move — do you have any strategy in mind?"
At that, Zero shook his head.
"Nothing, I'm afraid. All this time, I've focused solely on obtaining the kill switch and learning how to use it."
"How to use it. Could you elaborate?"
Zero raised one arm and spread two fingers.
"There are two ways. The first is to slot it directly into the memory port of one whose memories have been edited, and speak the reset activation phrase."
"...That's all there is to it?"
"Yes. Rudolph, sir, tested it himself, so it is certain."
"I see. And the second?"
"The second is a signal amplifier said to be hidden in Memoryphilia's headquarters, Club Inferno. With that method, we could wake countless people all at once. But as I said before—"
"—we would have to infiltrate their headquarters, so the risk would be considerable."
"Exactly."
Zero nodded at Ash's words and continued.
"That is why my plan was to lure my siblings out one at a time, and wake the ones within reach first with the kill switch."
"How many siblings do you have in total?"
"Three."
Three.
Presumably, those were all the ones who had stormed the rest stop.
"A sound approach. But there will be complications. The moment one falls into our hands, their guard will tighten tenfold. Should things go ill, they might even take your siblings hostage."
Zero let out a deep sigh.
"You speak the truth."
Ash lowered his head for a moment, running his fingers along his chin. Then, as if something suddenly occurred to him, his optical sensors lit up.
"Memoryphilia is hunting for the data chip. Now — tell me. What do you suppose would happen if it fell into the hands of someone far, far more troublesome to deal with than they are?"
"...They would move to stop it before that could happen, I imagine."
"And to stop it, wouldn't they lay down their very best card? Say — your siblings, for instance."
"Of course they would. But... wouldn't it be difficult to engineer a situation like that?"
"Extremely difficult. We would be arranging the entire board at this late stage."
Ash turned his head.
"But we have a lady heroine among us, do we not?"
Where his gaze came to rest — there stood Siren.
The quiet listener of their conversation turned her head left, then right, bewilderment written across her face.
"Uh, uhh... who, me? You mean me? How would I—"
"Lady heroine."
Ash rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Did you happen to bring a broadcast drone with you?"