Chapter 174: And So, the Gears Began to Turn (2)
Chapter 174: And So, the Gears Began to Turn (2)
What is he talking about?
Startled again after the mention of a "child," I turned to look at the Librarian, but his expression remained unchanged as he stared at The Enemy.
Following his gaze toward The Enemy, I witnessed a strange sight.
The Curator, who had only ever worn artificial expressions, showed a natural one for the first time.
“…Impressive. To think you discovered that?”
“Did you think I couldn’t? You did hide it well, I’ll give you that. Even I didn’t particularly feel like rummaging through the gaps in my own brain.”
What the hell is going on?
I didn't care which one of them it was—could someone please explain it to me?
As that thought crossed my mind, a sound began to reach my ears.
Click.
The sound of gears turning.
Hummmm.
The sound of a cooling fan spinning.
Hiiiiissssss.
The sound of built-up heat being vented.
Then, a corner of my vision began to be dyed in black.
Before I knew it, the Librarian had donned his armor, and the silver light it once radiated was being stained black.
The commencement of maximum output Reality Manipulation.
“What I require is not your admiration.”
Beginning with the Librarian’s mechanical voice.
Creeeeeak.
The world began to be rewritten.
The classroom where students had been listening to a lecture vanished into the distance, and simple white tiles began to fill the surroundings.
The floor, the ceiling, the walls. Everything.
Hiiiiissssss.
Steam erupted.
By the time the world was completely dyed white.
“I will ask again. Did you program this chip?”
An emotionless, mechanical voice flowed from beside me.
“Yes, I designed it. Which means all your actions are exactly as I predicted.”
A voice full of joy, not mechanical at all, flowed from The Enemy.
“I… am not your child, Curator.”
“Do you still believe yourself to be human? That is outside the scope of my predictions. It seems I must continue the lecture I was giving the students earlier.”
Whirring.
The boosters erupting from the Librarian’s back began to howl.
As if rebuking their master’s coldness and silence.
“Yes, I am human. The nameless child who died that day.”
“….”
I kept my mouth shut.
Because this was his story.
I observed everything from behind the scenes.
“How interesting. Do you judge your own continuity based on memories? Even though your actions, your way of thinking—everything was created by me.”
In contrast to the Librarian, who had deployed all his armaments and stood ready to charge.
The Curator merely spread his arms and straightened his back.
It was a gesture as if he were trying to embrace a child running toward him.
“Blood still flows within me. The blood my parents left for me.”
“That is only a matter of time. Eventually, it will all disappear.”
Blood and flesh, huh?
It’s been ages since I’ve seen my own. I wonder what’s become of my original body.
“Yes, and that is why I have come to settle this before then. While there is still a part of me that remains human.”
The Librarian, who had been moving like a machine, made his first human gesture after uttering those words.
He stole a glance at me.
What? What do you want me to do?
Do you want help?
I summoned my hammer and gripped it, intending to convey that message.
But he shook his head as if it weren't necessary and looked back at his enemy.
“Then, Curator. I will ask one last thing before we fight.”
“Hmm. Does that mean if I don’t answer, we don’t have to fight? I have no intention of fighting my own child.”
The friend’s enemy joked, smiling in a truly awkward manner.
“The fact that I made it this far. Was that also according to your plan?”
The Librarian completely ignored him and spat out his final question.
“Yes, everything is a pre-established harmony. Even the outcome of this battle. Though there are minor discrepancies, they are within the margin of error.”
Having said that, the Curator’s mouth tore open into a wide grin as he lowered his stance.
“Think whatever you like.”
Matching his enemy, the Librarian also lowered his stance.
Vroom.
The air vibrated once.
KABOOM!
With fire erupting from the boosters on his back, the Librarian charged straight ahead.
Without even drawing a weapon, he thrust his black-stained hands forward.
To my eyes, his posture looked incredibly unstable.
His center of gravity was off, his left hand failed to coordinate with his right, and the shape of his hands was clumsy.
Like a living creature expressing rage for the very first time.
And yet, those hands held an immense amount of energy.
Tearing through space, transcending perception.
In response to that attack, the Curator, standing opposite the Librarian, abandoned his welcoming posture and bowed deeply.
As if he were giving a greeting.
However, I soon realized that was a misconception.
The moment the Librarian drew closer and the Curator straightened his back.
Bang!
With the sound of an explosion, a staggering number of mechanical tentacles surged forth.
They clearly sprouted from his body, but so many emerged in an instant that I almost missed the moment they appeared.
Clad in torn, jagged armor and spitting sparks, they moved flexibly despite their sturdy appearance. They instantly clumped together to form a wall, blocking the Librarian’s charge with their massive weight.
If it had ended there, it might have been fine.
“Damn it.”
Even as a bystander, I was startled by what sprouted from The Wall and took a combat stance.
The weapons I had seen countless times on the way here.
Plasma detonators, flamethrowers, large-caliber armor-piercing cannons, and chain-reaction Claymores where every single pellet exploded again.
Every single one of them was a nightmare.
Given their range and power, it was certain that I would be caught in the blast even if I wasn't the target.
I immediately pulled out my hammer, enlarged it, and leaped backward. I took a position to evade the coming onslaught and turned my gaze to find the Librarian.
I found him soon enough.
The Wall of metal tentacles, and the countless weapons sprouting from it.
Even seeing those, he didn't stop at all.
Does he have a plan?
I watched for a moment, thinking that.
But he simply continued his charge in the same posture.
He’s going to get himself killed at this rate.
Frustrated, I was about to abandon my duty as a bystander and observer to intervene in the Librarian’s story.
Thump.
I heard a heavy sound.
No, I only imagined I heard it.
That was how much massive power was surging.
An unrefined, immense Otherworldly Power erupted from within the Librarian’s black armor, and the surroundings began to distort violently.
The environment around him changed like a kaleidoscope looking into multiple realities or different worlds.
Is his Reality Manipulation going out of control?
The moment I thought that.
Whoosh.
Just like when I heard the explosion earlier.
Everything became so quiet that I felt as if I had hallucinated the sound.
But conversely, I was seized by a sense of dread.
That person charging toward The Wall.
Who… is that?
For a moment—truly just for a fleeting moment—that doubt dominated me.
The black armor, the power I felt.
It was identical to the Librarian from before, but it felt as if something crucial had been swapped.
My reason told me everything was the same.
But my emotion and intuition denied it.
They whispered that the black armor distorting reality and breaking through The Wall felt as ominous as an invader.
What should I do? Is he an enemy? Should I draw my weapon?
Then, something happened that seemed to support my suspicion.
“Excellent. To face the Theodosian Wall and discard your own humanity. A fine choice. There is a slight discrepancy, but it is within the predicted range.”
The Curator’s voice reached my ears clearly, even though he was behind The Wall and shouldn't have been heard.
It was enough to amplify my doubts.
Was this why the Librarian called me here?
To stop him if he went berserk?
Did he intend to throw everything away to end The Enemy?
I could understand self-sacrifice.
It was a choice I had made without hesitation, and I had seen countless others do the same.
But was this really okay?
To let him go like this…
Countless thoughts swirled in my head.
As I looked at the Librarian while burdened by them.
“Do not worry.”
Along with a voice filled with emotion, the hand of the black armor touched The Wall.
There was no sound. No impact.
The Wall touched by the black armor shattered like a sugar sculpture from the fingertips outward.
The weapons aiming at the Librarian hung their heads as if their power had been cut.
“I am—click—the Librarian.”
Metallic noise mixed into his voice.
Thump.
The boosters, which had paused for a moment to destroy The Wall, vibrated the air again.
“A human—whirrr—with blood in my veins.”
A howling resonance echoed in the human voice.
KABOOM!
Spewing fire, he moved forward.
“The Child who was betrayed by everyone and betrayed everyone on that day.”
The voice leaking from the armor didn't even contain the sound of breathing.
Against the backdrop of white tiles.
Piercing through the scattering silver metal.
The black armor threw itself forward.
“…You are a machine. Just like me.”
The Curator’s crumbling voice dominated the space, but.
“No. I am The Child of humans.”
That sound was buried and shattered by a human voice full of resolve and pride.
“Even if I lost my flesh and blood and became a machine.”
Thump.
Once again, the world vibrated, and tentacles erupted from the Curator’s body.
Tearing through his clothes, a torrent of mechanical tentacles burst from his right hand.
The tentacles, bristling with countless muzzles, immediately aimed at the Librarian, but.
Ping.
With a light resonance, the moment they touched the Librarian’s hand.
Clink.
They shattered into pieces with the sound of breaking glass.
“Even if everything was laid out according to your words.”
Thump.
This time, the left hand.
Even in this situation, the Curator’s desperate struggle, unable to give up on everything.
“Everything I have built up came from the strength of a human.”
Clink.
Thump.
While the left hand blocked the Librarian.
The right hand was restored.
“Knowledge.”
Thump.
Again, the left hand.
“Memories.”
Clink.
Thump.
“Bonds. All of it.”
Clink.
The Librarian reached the Curator, breaking through every obstacle.
“If you hadn't claimed yourself to be a perfect machine, this power wouldn't have worked.”
“…I am a complete machine without will. Everything is atop a pre-arranged algorithm. That goes for you as well.”
“Is that so? That’s a pity.”
The Librarian slowly raised his hand.
To end his enemy.
And the moment it swung down.
“Emergency stop signal transmission! Subject OVERWRITER-A-5723-Ω-001!”
The Curator shrieked something in a hurry.
For the first time, losing all his composure.
The Librarian flinched for a brief second at those words, but.
“A pity. That command has already been removed from my chip.”
The descending hand did not stop.
Thud.
The hand landed on the Curator’s shoulder.
“I suppose you didn't expect this.”
Along with the Librarian’s sarcasm.
Clink.
The Curator’s body shattered into pieces and vanished.
A truly hollow end.
The man who once occupied a portion of the United States, forcing them to request international cooperation for the first time.
The man who escaped even after being attacked by every Hero.
The man who, even after the Management Bureau was established, was dealt with only by isolating entire districts. He met his end so anticlimactically.
Having reached that end, the Librarian stood quietly, watching the scattering iron filings.
How much time had passed?
“…Is it over?”
Walking slowly to stand beside him, I opened my mouth.
“Yes, it’s over. And I’m perfectly fine. It seems my worries were…”
