Pull of the Dark Nebula Page 3

  “R-right. Sorry for talking big,” Graph apologized, chastened, and cleared his throat. “Um, so…what was I talking about again…?”

  “The third-stage Incarnate techniques, Master,” Trilead noted.

  “Right, that.” He nodded solemnly. “Still, it’s just like Ms. Archangel there said, you can sum up the important part in a few words—‘Manipulating phenomenon from a higher dimension’…If you can completely master this stage, then distance becomes irrelevant.”

  Instantly, something Metatron had said to him popped up in the back of Haruyuki’s mind:

  Listen to me, little warrior. On the Highest Level, the concept of “distance” is meaningless. Thus, it is possible for us two to touch like this, despite the fact that we are far apart on the Mean Level; for us to have this overview of all three fields; and to even reference memories…

  The concept of distance didn’t exist on the Highest Level. If it did…

  “Uh, um, so then, that means…You can attack anything, and it doesn’t matter where it is or how far away?” Haruyuki asked timidly. “Unilaterally strike an opponent a few dozen kilometers away from you?”

  “Taken to the extreme, that’s what it ends up being,” Graph agreed. “And it’s not just distance. Attack power, defensive abilities, compatibility—all parameters get tossed out the window. You could even do something like completely and utterly destroy the entire field with a toy gun. Anyone who totally conquers the third stage’d basically be a god of this world.”

  “A-a god?”

  “Yeah. It’d be like they got administrator privileges…”

  Sensing pain in Graphite Edge’s voice as he spoke half to himself, Haruyuki blinked hard and stared. But no matter how he focused on the dual swordsman’s goggles, looking for the eye lenses hidden beneath, he couldn’t read what was going on inside the avatar’s head.

  Haruyuki shifted his gaze to the longsword still gripped in Graph’s right hand and asked another question. “So then, is it…? You mastered this third-stage Incarnate technique and broke through the Castle’s north gate?”

  “Hmm. The answer’s eighty percent no and twenty percent yes, I guess.” Casually carefree again, the swordmaster shrugged lightly. “If I had the power to do that, forget the gate; I’d have been able to take down the God at it, yeah? But there’s totally no way I could do that. I’m still real far from mastery. And you can’t escape the core of the Incarnate—its biggest principle, the fact that the imagination comes from your mind. You always end up bound by the frame of your own self.”

  “And how, finally, does this relate to your earlier talk of graphene, pray tell?” Fuko spoke for the first time in a while.

  “Ri-ri-right.” Graph moved his face mask up and down slightly. “Rekka’s always saying I’m more sword than person, and she’s not necessarily off base there. If G—if the Green King’s the Burst Linker in our world going the extra mile to protect people, then I’m the one who’s thought about nothing but cutting. So you know, I’m not too shabby with Incarnate. And I’ve focused and concentrated that to my limits, for this third-stage Incarnate technique.”

  Graphite Edge dropped his gaze to the long sword clutched in one hand, and a hazy, bluish-purple overlay rose up from his body. The overlay was the extra noise from the excess of imagination flowing into the image-control circuits that connected a Burst Linker’s mind and their avatar; the system processed it as a light effect. The overlay enveloping Graph currently was subdued, but probably not because his Incarnate level was low. The opposite, in fact—because his imagination was so purely honed and refined, it caused virtually no noise.

  Clink. The longsword Lux vanished with a crisp metallic sound.

  No, not vanished…The sword had become as thin as humanly possible, sinking down to the atomic level. The hazy, shadowy blade would disappear and reappear when Haruyuki shifted his head to change the angle he viewed it at.

  Now that the sword was indeed “honed to the thickness of a single atom,” Graph stood up from his seat, hand still on the grip. He looked back and then swiftly swung his sword away from the other Burst Linkers there.

  There was no call of a technique name. Just the flashing movement of his right arm, three times. He then sheathed the sword and took a step back.

  A second later, a triangle-size area of the stone floor sank down. Graph had severed the supposedly indestructible foundation of the Castle. The block continued to sink, gradually dropping out of the floor, and a few moments later, they heard the sound of two heavy objects colliding.

  “So, basically, that’s the idea.” Graphite Edge turned around and spread his hands.

  “Now listen, Graph.” Fuko was half stunned, half exasperated. “Before, you said—the ‘ninefold gates,’ was it? You said it was absolutely impossible to destroy the Castle’s four directional gates. This demonstration contradicts that. Can’t you simply use that technique to open a hole in the large door at the gates?”

  “I tried that, at first. But the gates rejected even a third-level Incarnate technique. They probably use up a tremendous amount of resources to constantly update their data. But there is one gap we can exploit. Listen. Those gate doors themselves are indestructible, but the double doors and the others, they have gaps in their logical openings.”

  Graph thrust his palms forward, as if making contact with each of the double doors. “The width of this gap is infinitely close to zero. But the thickness of the atomic blade I produce with my Incarnate technique is also infinitely close to zero. So there’s wiggle room for me to push the ‘logic’ of my Incarnate technique. Of course, it’s pointless if my blade makes it through when I can’t…But with the four directional gates, it’s enough if just my blade can pass through. Because—”

  “You can destroy the seal plate from outside the gate!” Haruyuki shouted.

  “Exactly.” Graph seemed to be grinning as he opened his hands. “I said this before, but in short, third-stage Incarnate is about pushing through to the result. The argument that you believe is absolute—I call it the absolute theory. And with it, you can overwrite things whether anyone likes it or not. There’s no flashy lights or big explosions; you simply get the results.

  “The absolute theory behind Elucidator is that this blade is thin and sharp to the extreme, so it can cut anything. It doesn’t work on the ninefold gates themselves, but I managed to slip the blade through the gap and cut the seal. Wasn’t as easy as I make it sound, though.”

  That was obviously true. If you were going to try to pass a blade with zero thickness through a gap with zero width, then the tolerance for error would also be zero. And on top of that, you would have to slice through the solid seal plate with one hit, which would require swinging with full force at top speed.

  “So you made it work with one hit?” Haruyuki asked, half disbelieving.

  “No way.” Graph wove his hands back and forth to indicate a negative. “I failed so many times, got massacred by Genbu so many times…But in the Unlimited Neutral Field, you’ve got time if nothing else, and I had a bunch of extra points. I focused on the challenge like I was in training, and right around the time I forgot how many times I’d died, I finally made it work.”

  “Graph, if you had enough points that you could die that many times, then why didn’t you try to flee to the other side of the bridge instead of inside the gate?” Fuko asked, exasperated.

  “Nah, there was no way.” He shook his head once again. “I had about three seconds leeway from the time I regenerated on the bridge until Genbu popped up to attack me. But about fifty percent of the time, that turtle comes barreling at you with the gravity attack on its first go. No matter how far you get before that, you just get sucked back and have to start all over again. Swinging my sword at the gate in front of me was way more constructive. And…” He looked down at Lead, sitting properly on the chair to his left. “And because I made it inside the Castle, I managed to get my second student. All my hard work wasn’t for nothing.” />
  Right. Hearing this, Haruyuki belatedly remembered the sword wielder before him was Kuroyukihime’s teacher, and Kuroyukihime was Haruyuki’s own swordmaster. Which meant Haruyuki was Graph’s grand-student, and Graph would be Haruyuki’s grand master. So then maybe he shouldn’t be calling him Graph like he had been, but master, following Trilead’s lead. Or maybe he should pick something else, like elder.

  As Haruyuki sat sunk in thought, his other master—his Incarnate teacher, Sky Raker, let out a soft sigh. “My goodness, the first story is finally finished, hmm? That you would spend twenty minutes telling a tale that could’ve been finished with ‘I broke through with an Incarnate technique.’”

  “N-now you’re just being mean, Rekka. I was doing my best to explain it, so it was easy for the young people and Ms. Archangel to understand.”

  “In my case, I comprehended the issue with simply ‘I interfered from the Highest Level.’” Metatron’s words were no less thorny and merciless than Fuko’s, and Graph’s shoulders slumped. Looking at this, Fuko smiled. “That’s the first time you and I have agreed, Meta.”

  “Who are you calling ‘Meta’?!” Metatron fumed, and Haruyuki hurried to intercede.

  “But, Metatron, you did say, right? That you can’t interfere with comrades or enemies on the Highest Level. You can only recognize and be aware. I think it’s the same with terrain, but…”

  “It is admirable that you recollect my words, but if you are going to do so, then do so correctly. At that time, I said that you could not interfere. With your abilities in that moment in time, observing the Highest Level was your limit.” Metatron’s voice in cool declaration was just the slightest bit softer, something that Haruyuki alone likely realized. “But after that, you called to me through the Highest Level and reestablished the link that was nearly severed. If you do not call that interference, then what do you call it?”

  “Oh…R-right…” Haruyuki remembered how, guided by a mysterious voice that gave its name as “somethingterasu,” he had just barely managed to recover Metatron’s core when she was on the verge of extinction, and he suddenly wanted to hug the icon on his shoulder. But if he did something like that, he had no doubt the surprisingly shy Archangel would be furious, so he resisted the urge and finished with a nod. “I had to concentrate so hard just to get my voice to finally reach you. I’m totally incapable of destroying something in the Highest Level.”

  “Of course, servant.”

  “Could I have a minute, Tron?” Fuko interjected again.

  “Who are you calling ‘Tron’?!”

  “This Highest Level, if it’s just looking, can anyone look, I wonder? For instance, myself?”

  “…Mm…” Grunting with displeasure, Metatron moved from Haruyuki’s right shoulder to his left and glanced at Fuko’s avatar. “It is absolutely not the case that anyone can, but it would likely not be impossible for you. However. The reason Silver Crow was previously able to reach the Highest Level was because the calculation speed of his mental circuits increased dramatically during the battle with the pseudo-Being you call Mark II. To re-create that state in normal times would require long hours of concentration.”

  Haruyuki listened attentively to Metatron’s slightly aggressive explanation, but fortunately, Fuko nodded, with no display of her own usual challenging spirit.

  “I see. Well then, we will leave that for the next opportunity. The reason we have come to the Castle today is to obtain information on the seventh of the Arcs, The Fluctuating Light, and convey that to Black Lotus.”

  “Hmm. I am also greatly interested in this.”

  When Metatron agreed with her, Fuko turned back to Graphite Edge. “So then, shall we get on with the main discussion? Graph, given that you charged into this Castle three years ago, there’s no way that you didn’t investigate it. Tell me. What on earth is the final Arc?”

  “H-hang on a sec.” The dual swordmaster raised both his hands in protest.

  “What, Graph?” Fuko’s eye lenses flashed sharply. “Is there something you would rather not have known?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Eyes darting about, Graph looked as though he were turning something over in his mind, but he soon let out a sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you whatever I know. About TFL and the secrets of the Accelerated World…But if I’m going to tell you all that, there’s a more suitable place to do it.”

  “Where?” Fuko asked suspiciously, and the graphite swordsman snapped an index finger out, straight downward.

  “The deepest part of this Castle main building, of course—on the other side of the last gate.”

  2

  The six Great Legions known far and wide across the Accelerated World took their nicknames from the Kings of Pure Color who headed each of them, and they were often referred to by that nickname—Blue Legion, Green Legion, etc. However, this did not mean that, for instance, the Blue Legion was made up of only blue-type duel avatars, but there was a certain tendency for avatars similar to the Legion color to gravitate toward that Legion.

  The exceptions were the White King and the still-small Black Legion. Given that the leaders of these Legions were rare and absolute colors, they were necessarily unable to attract similar types of avatars. At best, there was the somewhat whitish Ivory Tower, the White Legion’s representative; and the somewhat blackish Graphite Edge, formerly of the Black Legion’s executive. Compared with these two, the current Red Legion, Prominence, was, true to its name, made up of a good number of red types, despite its past near-collapse.

  Blood Leopard aka Mihaya Kakei thought about this as she raced toward the main building of the Nerima Ward Office in Beast Mode. There was a rather ominous feel in the air in Nerima Area No. 3, where the special executive meeting would soon be held, because Mihaya, the starter for the duel, had gotten hit with a Thunder stage. Lightning flashed frequently deep in the black clouds that hung thick in the air, and a near-constant low rumbling echoed through the stage.

  “Hope we’ll be okay,” the Red King, Scarlet Rain, aka Yuniko Kozuki, muttered from her back.

  “Why?” Mihaya wondered briefly.

  “Aah, the Thunder stage. You go up too high and you get zapped by the lightning and pretty much turn into charcoal, right? Just wondering if we’ll be able to climb up to the roof of the ward office.”

  “…NP, I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Pretty sure the height for lightning strikes is a hundred meters. The Ward office is about ninety meters.”

  “…So just barely…” Niko groaned.

  Mihaya ran intently along Meijiro Street to the west. Ahead, the fifty-year-old ward building came into sight. When it was built, it had been the second tallest of the twenty-three ward offices, but it was currently faster to count up to it from the bottom of the height list. But the area around it still had no taller buildings, so the fact of its striking nature was unchanged.

  She glanced at the timer and saw they still had 1,720 seconds left in the duel. She calculated that she had run the 1.5 kilometers from the cake shop Patisserie la Plage in Sakuradai to this point in eighty seconds. But the other two members of the executive said they would accelerate from the observation deck restaurant on the office’s top floor, so they had long ago reached the roof. She turned left off of Meijiro, and the instant she slipped onto the ward office premises, Niko made a move to slide down off her back.

  “Thanks, Pard. I can get the elevator now—”

  “No need,” she replied. “Acceleration burst.”

  “Whoa!” Niko cried, and Mihaya felt the smaller girl hurriedly wrap her arms around her neck as she jumped hard. The pads of her four paws stuck firmly to the perpendicular wall of the office building, and she started to run. As her level-seven bonus, she’d acquired the ability to run normally on any surface. Unlike her ability to run up walls, this did not use up her special-attack gauge, so she could climb even a one-hundred-meter building without fear that her energy would run out before she made i
t to the top, sending her plunging to the ground.

  “Uh! So um! If you’re gonna climb the walls, tell me first!” Niko complained.

  “SRY.” She finished climbing the smooth wall in a single breath and then held herself back from making a final, full-powered leap, even though that was what she wanted to do. There was a chance they could get caught in the range of the lightning if she did that, so she simply pulled them up over the edge and stopped.

  The spacious rooftop heliport offered a perfect view of the urban landscapes of Nerima and Suginami unfolding under the uniform gray of the sky. When her gaze landed on Kannana Street, stretching out essentially due south, she saw a remarkably large skyscraper rising up in the distance.

  Mihaya had gone by it any number of times—the condo of Silver Crow, aka Haruyuki Arita. But this was not the Unlimited Neutral Field, only a normal duel field, so she would be repelled by the stage boundary before she could make it all the way there. She brushed away the fleeting thought and returned her attention to the scene at hand.

  Two figures were visible near the H mark in the center of the heliport. One was a rich purple and fairly large, while the other was a vivid reddish-purple and fairly small.

  This time, Niko did manage to jump down off her back, and as she stretched dramatically, Mihaya chanted the command Shape Change. She shifted from the leopard form of Beast Mode back to the human shape of Normal Mode and approached the earlier arrivals.

  “’Sup,” she greeted.

  “Unnnh,” the larger M-type duel avatar to the right groaned, shaking the massive horns growing from both sides of his head.

  “I always tell you this.” The small F-type avatar to the left sounded exasperated. “You don’t need to think up some catchphrase greeting, Cassi. I mean, ’sup is basically just the same meaning as hey or something.”