ACT II (2)
The PAX venue was pure chaos.
People were screaming. The air reeked of acrid gunpowder. In the sky, drones that had been hidden behind cloaking barriers burst forth all at once, training their weapons on us and the civilians.
And in that scene, I glimpsed fragments of the past.
Countless people had died. Countless heroes had retired.
The Director had been the starting point of that vicious cycle.
He always forced us to choose.
Would we save people and die, or would we survive? Would we accept the sacrifice of the few, or look the other way? Was a hero's work truly righteous, or was it merely violence that only expanded the damage?
Those utterly unreasonable choices had ultimately brought us to ruin.
I don't like this.
I had always hated it.
Heroes always put their lives on the line. And a hero's choice usually breeds tragedy. Yet that man calling himself the Director turns those tragedies into a laughingstock and condemns them as despicable.
No. That is completely wrong.
The hero who made that choice deserves respect. Isn't the one who designed the sacrifice of the few for the many the Director himself? How can he condemn others when he was the one who offered that unreasonable choice in the first place?
So this time, I had no intention of choosing.
I would not die.
I would not kill.
No matter how difficult the path, I would walk it to the end.
And my new path—
"—Napalm! G.A.!!"
—was, of course, one that created no tragedies.
"Start with the civilian rescue! I'll hold off the drones!!"
Napalm and G.A. could fly. They were faster than me, and stronger too. If they focused on rescuing civilians, they should be able to get them out of here in short order.
"Hey, hey—! What are you gonna do about all those dro—"
—Whirr-click——!!
I fired my grappling hook into the outer wall of a building and launched myself into the air.
"—Huh?!"
At the same time, I hurled an EMP bomb into the cluster of drones aiming their guns at the civilians. A blue flash erupted from the bomb as it nestled among them.
—BZZZT——!
The drones went dead, buying the people beneath them time to run.
"…Hmm."
The Director watched this through the screen and spoke through the speakers built into the drones.
"More effective than last time, I see?"
"Humans are creatures that learn."
"…."
The Director fell silent for a moment. Was he assessing the situation, or preparing some new move? One thing was certain: the longer he stalled, the more time we had to save civilians. So I kept scanning my surroundings, carefully watching for whatever he might try next.
That was when it happened.
"Very well. Then the audience must learn as well."
The moment those words ended, the remaining drones shifted their movements. The gun barrels aimed at civilians lowered, and the drones that had been watching me reversed direction.
Surrender? Not a chance. Giving up? The Director? Hardly.
Meaning he was switching to a different approach. And sure enough—
—Kiiiiiiing———!!
The drones all began descending low. They didn't fire bullets at the civilians. They skimmed over heads, slammed to a stop right in front of fallen people—
"—G.A.!"
"I know!"
—BOOM——!!
—and exploded.
"Kyaaah…!?"
Or they dove perilously close past a woman fleeing with a child in her arms. Movements meant to kill, and movements meant to terrify. The Director was orchestrating both.
"You son of a bitch…!"
—Whirr-click——CRACK!!
I yanked the grappling hook free from the wall and landed it dead-on into one of the drones. Using the drone's weight as a counterbalance, I swung through the air like a glider.
"Hup…!"
I curled into a roll, wrapping my arms around the mother and daughter the drone was about to reach—
—ZZZT…!!
—and used my back as a cushion to pull them clear.
It hurt. It was agony. But I had to do it.
"Napalm! These people…!!"
"Ah—got it!"
—Whoosh.
Before I could even turn my head, the sound of drone rotors closed in.
Visualizing the next 2 seconds of the future.
Bullets incoming to my left shoulder and right thigh.
"Hup…!"
The sound of a bullet grazing past my left ear—
"Ghk…!"
—and my thigh, too slow to fully dodge, took a high-speed graze. Blood flowed. A searing pain shot through my thigh and my balance faltered for an instant. But I immediately corrected my stance, my legs.
There were still people. Still so many who needed saving. So I gritted my teeth and fired the grappling hook again, pulling hard—
—Whirr-click———!!
My body twisted violently as I barely held my balance.
"Excellent."
The Director's voice cut through that moment.
"But how long can you hold them off alone?"
I didn't answer. I didn't have the luxury. Because the next future was already overlapping my vision.
—FWOOSH——!
Flames erupted from Napalm's fingertips—and those flames swallowed a drone while simultaneously licking the backs of the civilians beside it. Great America threw a punch to shoot down an approaching drone—and the shockwave from the blow slammed people into the wall.
That was what the Director intended. To make us kill the very people we were supposed to save. The tragedy I refused to accept.
—Crunch.
So I put weight on my bleeding leg and clenched my teeth.
Trajectory…!
Enduring the pain, I stepped forward. I could see a drone diving toward Napalm. And at the same time—
—Kiiiiiiing———!!
An unpleasant high-frequency whine. The drone emitting that sound detonated a flash—
"Ugh…!"
—and Napalm's fingertips jerked hard from the interference. The thin, carefully controlled line of flame she'd been managing ballooned in an instant.
She hadn't meant for that.
"Fire exists to burn, after all."
It had stabbed pain into her wrist and reflexively forced her output higher. And right before those flames could spread toward the civilians—I had no intention of standing by and watching.
"Jun…?!"
I sprinted hard, cutting in front of Napalm. I flung open my heat-resistant coat to shield her—
—BZZZT——!!
—and threw an EMP bomb.
—FWOOOOSH——!
Napalm's flames slammed into the coat and surged upward.
"…"
The heat seemed to sear my face, my entire body. I couldn't breathe. It felt like my skin was cooking. But the flames never reached the civilians. They survived. Not a single injury.
"…That way. Get out of here."
"Y-Yes…!!"
I guided them while barely holding onto consciousness—
"Are you insane?!"
Napalm screamed at me, her voice thick with fury.
"Why the hell would you jump in front of my fire…!"
And my answer to her question was already decided.
"Because it's better than you burning those people. Those innocent people."
"…"
The color drained from Napalm's face. She looked like she wanted to say something, but unfortunately I had no time to hear it.
Next future: G.A.
—Whirr-click——!
The grappling hook fired and sank into the wall.
"G.A.!"
My body cut through empty air. Then the grappling hook yanked me between her fist and the drone—
—WHOOSH——!
Her fist stopped just short of my nose.
—CRUNCH—!
And a drone slammed into my shoulder.
"…Hah!"
An impact that felt like it would stop my heart sent me flying backward. But Great America's fist never completed its forward motion. No shockwave. No children, no civilians sent flying. Only I went flying. No other damage occurred.
"Jun!"
Great America carefully caught my staggering form. Her hands began supporting my back with considerable force.
"Why—why would you do something like that? I nearly hit you…!"
"…You stopped, though."
"…"
G.A. said nothing for a moment. She simply held me up, staring down at her own hands.
"…I stopped, you say."
"Hah… Yeah."
I gave her a short reply and pushed myself up from G.A.'s hands. My legs trembled. My shoulder, my thigh, the skin under my coat—all of it felt wrecked. But I still had work to do, didn't I?
Saving people. Stopping that vermin of a man. I had that firm goal, so—I took another step forward.
"Urgh…! Fine. Let's do this!"
And Napalm, watching me, gritted her teeth. Unlike a moment ago, she didn't gather her flames into a mass. Thin. Low. At a height that wouldn't touch a human body. Following the exact trajectory I'd just blocked, she burned only the drones' wings.
And Great America didn't stay idle either.
"…I just need to make them stop."
Great America didn't clench her fists. Instead she heated both eyes to a searing glow and, one by one—
—ZIIIIING——!!!
—shot down the incoming drones. More delicately than ever. More precisely. So she wouldn't create shockwaves like a punch would. Burning only the wings and thrusters, never touching a person.
"Khuhuh…. Khahahaha—! Not bad!"
But the Director, watching us, began deploying even more drones—a swarm like a cloud of bees. In that moment, a possibility flickered through my mind.
…This is weird.
Weren't they moving faster than they should? The moment Napalm's flames wavered, a high-frequency drone had driven in deeper. The moment Great America clenched her fist, other drones had scattered toward the civilians. And right after I'd interposed myself, the remaining drones had immediately redirected toward me.
Far too improvisational for automation or pre-programmed patterns. Meaning he was controlling them manually, more or less.
He's watching.
Observing my reactions and responding on the fly. A mistake born of the fact that this wasn't yet the experienced Director—he wasn't that meticulous yet.
Then he can't be far.
The display boards, the drones, the speakers, the decoys, the cloaking barriers. The Director was controlling all of these devices right now, and his reaction speed was extremely fast. Meaning he had to be somewhere that could control the live broadcast network, the drone control network, and the audio equipment all at once.
And at this venue, that place was fixed.
Backstage.
Where the outsourced broadcast companies' vehicles were gathered. Behind the venue, where relay vans bearing the PAX logo or company logos stood in a line.
"…Aha."
"…?"
Display control, audio, broadcast transmission. Right in the middle of the space where all those devices were being controlled… one vehicle with its engine still running caught my eye.
"…Found you."
"…!"
The stage director. The Director.
True to his name… he was backstage.