38 - Firmament's Edge

I can't actually physically 'see' any of our surroundings—the inside of the cockpit is completely sealed, with no view of the outside.

But through Saya's Resonance link, I'm connected to the Hoshi-no-ken, and in my mind's eye, I see what it sees.

I feel what it feels—which right now, is the soft grass of the soccer field below its/my feet.

I tighten my grip on the controls.

Saya behind me, in the Resonance Pilot seat, tells me, "Just focus on walking for now, Odd-kun. … And try making a fist."

"… How … How do I do that?"

"Well," says Saya, "how do you walk in your own body?"

I pause. "I just … do it."

"Exactly."

So I think of making a fist. I will it.

… And as I do, the Hoshi-no-ken makes a fist.

"Whoa," I mutter. "… Cool."

In my mind, I see now the Terror in front of me, its tentacles wriggling as it warily circles me/the Hoshi-no-ken. I see the man with the eyepatch riding atop it.

But that's not all I see in my head.

At the same time, I also see a clear visual of my friends, underground, in the command center. Kaya and Saya beaming all of this—in addition to the mech's status data—back and forth between each other.

And I'm sure that, in turn, everyone back at the command center is also seeing in their heads, both a view of Saya and me inside the cockpit, as well as the Terror standing in front of me.

… It's a lot to take in. For all of us.

"Hey, Saya," I ask, "does this Resonance stuff still work if you have aphantasia?"

Saya, bemusedly: "Huh? … What? I—I dunno … Who cares??"

She's right. We have more pressing matters at the moment.

… Like the Terror, who lets out another roar, as it charges toward us.

Each of the monster's stomps reverberate through the Hoshi-no-ken's feet, which I feel as though they were my very own.

I grit my teeth, put both fists up.

"… I have to go bare-handed?" I ask. "I thought it was called the Sword of the Stars!"

"It's supposed to be a metaph—"

The Terror barrels into us, knocking us off-balance.

"Hang on!" I yell, struggling to keep us upright.

I see the others in the command center, watching anxiously.

"Odd-kun!" yells Saya. "You have to fight back!"

But I can't—as I continue to flail backwards, the Terror starts to wrap its tentacles around my arms, my legs, binding my limbs in place.

Its disgusting tendrils, slimy, wet, and cold … So cold …

And then—

The Terror begins to squeeze.

My vision goes white. I scream.

The pain is indescribable. I've never felt such agony.

My own arms, my legs, not only being crushed, but also being … melted away.

Sensation of my skin bubbling, sizzling. Scalding vapors hissing from my metal limbs.

I hear Alex's voice in my head: "Odd-kun! The tentacles! It's spraying some kind of corrosive acid on the chassis! You have to get free! It'll eat right through!"

I see the man atop the Terror. Grinning sadistically.

"Ig-Ignore the pain, Odd-kun," Saya says, straining. "It's not … happening to you …"

I know what she means, but it's impossible to separate my own body from the Hoshi-no-ken's.

… Besides, Saya's in just as much pain as I am.

And if an experienced veteran can't handle this psychic pain, then how could I stand any sort of chance against it!?

It's no use.

The pain becomes so intense that it threatens to consume me whole.

Ah, it's no good …

I feel the others fading from me.

Saya, Kaya … The others in the command center …

Their smiles, their voices—

—gone. All gone.

Replaced solely by the Terror, and the man in the eyepatch.

… And actually, you know what?

It's not that bad.

The pain is receding now.

And in its place, I feel only …

("Odd-kun, no!! Stay with me!")

I feel only warmth. A loving warmth. Like a nice, cozy blanket on a winter morning.

It's telling me that I can just let go, and everything will be okay.

("Odd-kun, don't give into it!")

… What's that sound? Is someone talking to me?

("Come back! Odd-kun, come back!")

Ah, who cares … I don't know what those sounds are, but it doesn't matter anymore.

All I care about is the warmth enveloping me.

It's so nice.

I think, if I just sink in a little deeper …

I'll be free. Forever.

No more worries.

No more pain.

No more … anything.

And just as I'm about to let go entirely—

Two images suddenly pop into my head.

The first thing I see is a 3D model of a katana—from the 64-bit era, looks like—floating there in the blank space of my mind's eye, as though I just picked up an item in a video game.

… And then it's gone, replaced by a similarly low-poly pink moped, rotating slowly in my head. (I think there are, uh … I think there are something like bunny stickers all over it.)

Now, I don't know what these seemingly unrelated objects mean, but—

—I know what I have to do now. Nothing else has ever been so clear, in all my life.

I turn away from the warmth.

The pain returns. Raw, merciless as before.

I open my eyes.

I'm back in the Action Pilot's seat. (… Or rather, I guess I never left.)

Saya's screaming behind me. "...—ODD-KUN, COME BACK!!!!"

Fighting through the pain, I turn back and try to smile at her, as best as I can.

Look of relief on her face. (… Again, as much as she can manage, through the immense shared pain we both feel.)

And then, with all my strength, I raise my hands as high as I'm able to, with the tentacles still binding me, eating away at the dwarven armor, the Hoshi-no-ken's arms trembling with the effort.

I bring my hands together, as close as they will go, one hand in front of the other, the robot's fingers curling around an invisible hilt …

… and then I swing my arms down.

The Terror screams, recoiling in pain.

The tendrils binding my arms and legs release their grip on me—sliced clean off from the rest of its body.

I see the command center crew—as well as Saya—watching on in awe, mouths slack, as the severed tentacles fall to the ground, steaming.

And the Hoshi-no-ken standing triumphantly, gripping, with both hands, the flaming sword it had just materialized out of thin air.

"Firmament's Edge," whispers Alex, underground.

"… Sword of the Stars," I say, grinning.

(Alex: "Did your engineering team really not give the HNK any weapons? Like, at all? Just one would have been fine …"

Saya, Kaya: "IT'S A METAPHOR!"

Alex: "YES I GET THAT! THAT'S NOT THE ISSUE HERE!")

The Terror dazed, I follow up with a series of quick slashes.

The Firmament's Edge cuts through the Terror's flesh like hot butter through a knife.

(Alex: "… I think you got that one backwards, Odd-kun."

Me: "You can read my mind?"

Valerie: "We all can."

Moeka: "Moeka hopes that no one realizes Moeka isn't actually typing anything. Moeka is just pressing random buttons."

Sunny, dusting off an old joke: "… I have no lines to contribute here."

Kaya: "Guys, please … Stop tying up the Resonance with such meaningless chatter."

Saya, smiling, shaking head: "You guys are dumb as hell.")

The cut-up, bleeding monstrosity backs away from me, trying to protect itself with what's left of its limbs, but it's no use. It knows it doesn't stand a chance against the flaming Edge, and with each slice of the sword it roars in agony.

The Terror can barely even stand anymore.

Even so, that man with the eyepatch is still atop the wobbling Terror. Still grinning. Seemingly unworried even as the tide of the battle turns against him.

The Terror drops to its … well, not knees exactly, but where knees would be if it were a person.

I flip the sword into a reverse grip, bring the Firmament's Edge up over its head, the tip of the blade pointing downward.

The man looks up at me, and at the blade poised over both him and the creature he's standing on.

He simply smiles, tips his cap.

Then with a single, decisive motion, I stab downward, toward the Terror's skull, toward the man standing atop it—

—and drive the flaming blade through the monster's brain.

Its six eyes roll back, life fading from them.

It gurgles one last time, and then goes limp.

… Silence.

I stand there over the Terror's massive carcass for a long time.

And then, all of a sudden, my head is filled with the cheers of those in the hangar. Kaya shakily breathes a sigh of relief.

Saya hugs me from behind.

I even hear, from somewhere below, the sound of somebody clapping.

… Wait.

That can't be right.

I look around, trying to find where the sound's coming from.

And there he is, the man with the eyepatch, standing a little ways away from the dead Terror.

Clap, clap, clap.

Applauding me with his gloved hands.

"Bravo, what a show!"

He stops clapping.

"However—…"

He raises one hand, above his head.

"…—it's not over yet!"

He snaps his finger.

Boo-oom!

Something rumbles overhead.

We—Saya and I in the cockpit, the others in the command center—look up.

A hole in the sky. The parting of clouds.

… And through the opening, a giant, dark figure descends from the heavens. Vaguely humanoid shape.

You know … it kinda resembles the Hoshi-no-ken.

No—as it falls to earth, I can see that it is identical to the Hoshi-no-ken, just in a different coat of paint.

It lands near the eyepatch man, the ground shaking with its impact.

Saya, behind me, in a trembling voice: "Sora-no-ken …"

Kaya: "It can't be …"

Me: "The what now!?"

The robot's face opens with a hiss.

It—the Sora-no-ken, as Saya calls it—kneels down, and offers an upturned hand.

The man steps onto its open palm, and the Sora-no-ken lifts him toward its open face.

Then the man climbs in, and the face closes again.

The robot rises.

It spreads its arms wide, cruciform.

I hear the man in my head:

"Now, then. … Shall we?"