episode_0385

Violet opened her eyes to a world filled with hazy fog. In her confused state, she struggled to find her identity.

“Who am I?”

The answer came instantly, like an echo.

“You are Violet!”

Violet asked again, her voice resonating through the clear sky, as questions about her existence welled up like a spring.

“Really?”

“Yes! You are Violet!”

Gradually, her vision brightened, and memories swirled into the girl’s consciousness. A cold laboratory, a sterile operating table. Flashing lights, a flood of old memories, the acrid smell of gunpowder from a battlefield. Fading images, both familiar and strange, flashed through her mind.

“That’s odd… Am I really Violet? I’m sure I’m…”

“Yes! You are that person! And also not that person.”

Countless memories surged into the little Violet’s mind like waves. She was certainly a brave soldier who ran through the trenches and vast fields of Rumeria. At the same time, she was also the girl who underwent cold surgery in Laplaxia’s laboratory, a warrior who awakened again after overcoming death.

Number 1 scratched her head, flustered. Her intelligence was diminished, and she couldn’t find the right words to explain this complex situation. Besides, she had never expected to actually become the real Violet.

“That’s odd…”

“What? Oh, right!”

Immediately after speaking, ‘Hellman’ Violet suddenly realized. She couldn’t hide her surprise at this strange experience where their thoughts were connected.

“Originally, I just wanted to pick up some scraps! There was definitely security in place to prevent erosion.”

Normally, it should have been nothing but death. Because of the anti-erosion measures in place, she hadn’t held high hopes.

But the absorption rate surpassed her expectations. No, perhaps it should be considered complete assimilation.

“What’s the reason?”

“It must be the injury.”

The two girls put their heads together and pondered, but no special answer emerged. Not until a silhouette suddenly flashed across the network’s ceiling.

“Huh? Look, isn’t that me?”

Above the void, the shadow of a mustachioed man in an old military wool coat flashed by. The man looked at Violet meaningfully, his mouth twitching before he disappeared into the fog.

“That’s not you! You’re Violet! Look at your shoulder!”

Hellman Violet looked down at her shoulder. The number 11341 was clearly etched there.

“Ah, I’m Unit 11341! Right? Then what was that?”

“A ghost?”

The little Violets instantly shrieked in terror.

“Hiiyaaak! It’s a ghost!”

“Ghosts are scary!”

**

As the relic battleship and Hellman were subdued, the Foundation’s resistance melted away like spring snow. The biggest reason was that the board of directors had turned tail and fled. Judging from what we saw in the Deadlock Corridor and the testimonies of several survivors, the Secretary-General and the other survivors seemed to have all escaped.

“I-I don’t know! All I know is that the board suddenly pulled out somewhere! Probably to the Deadlock Corridor…!”

“…As soon as the evacuation order was given, shelling rained down on the control room. So…”

Though they regrettably slipped away, we intend to track them down to the very end.

“It’s alright. Instead, we’ve obtained what the Foundation so desperately tried to protect.”

“That’s true, but…”

We all nodded at the Supervisor’s words. She was right. Our Violet had now acquired two precious spoils of war.

“It’s amazing how much information can be stored on this tiny disc.”

This strange storage device, given by Seijis for accessing the central archives, was said to contain all the information and research records accumulated by the Foundation. It was truly a treasure trove of knowledge. Of course, the original was destroyed. It was said that the servers in space and the deep sea were annihilated after simultaneous extraction and hacking operations with this storage device.

And the other spoil of war was this fellow right before our eyes!

“Ugh… To become a slave of a barbaric alien species…”

Before me stood a blue-haired girl in a strange ceremonial robe. She was the alien battleship that the Luminax Foundation called Hecatoncheir.

“Come on, follow me! We’ll be departing soon, so hurry and get on the airship.”

“You devil! Where are you taking me?!”

As the girl grumbled and was dragged away, about fifteen hundred little Violets headed toward the fallen ship’s main body to clear the debris. The ship’s hull gradually crumbled. Like melting ice, the massive hull and keel disintegrated, and nameless turrets and thick armor plates fell off one by one. Beneath them, the core machinery finally revealed itself. It was smaller than the ship’s gigantic main body, but still not easy to carry.

“This is you, right?”

“Hmph! What if it’s not me?”

Kale grumbled like a child and then shut her mouth, but there was always a way in situations like this. I rummaged through the ship’s memories. Now bound to the network, she was in a fused state, like Ruzilin’s Cheolkwon. This much could be confirmed.

“This is the central core!”

“Meaning it’s her main body!”

For some unknown reason, only the core remained, but it didn’t matter. The central core glowed faintly. Its operation meant it could be restored someday.

As a medium airship descended low to await, the transport operation began.

“Alright! Hook up the cables!”

“Binding complete! Complete! Ascend!”

The golden, spherical central core was smoothly secured beneath the airship’s fuselage. In conclusion, the operation was proceeding smoothly. Except for one problem.

“Waaaaah…?”

“Hoo-eeh…!”

All the workers on site were little Violets. Sadly, many Violets had turned into children right after the duel. Perhaps it was a side effect of overusing their reality-altering abilities.

“My clothes are too big!”

“It’s heavy!”

Having suddenly shrunk, the little Violets had to drag their sleeves and pant legs until they could change their clothes. Their armor and helmets were also too big, making them uncomfortable.

“Wow! Violet became young! What in the world happened?”

There would be more than a few things to explain now. Enrica, retreating on a helicopter, had a face full of question marks. Understandably, as I hadn’t thoroughly explained my newly acquired abilities to her.

“I shrank!”

“Little Violet!”

“Why are you like this? Is it magic? How strange…”

The little Violets urged the curious Enrica and pushed her into the helicopter. I didn’t know the exact reason either. I had a hunch, but it was tricky to explain.

“Explanation later!”

For now, we had to finish the remaining tasks and leave. Searching through the wreckage for anything else valuable, collecting various spoils, and retrieving survivors—our Violet Division swiftly collected the loot and prisoners. Even in Lustrum, other clans and the Federation were already stirring. Fortunately, this naval base was thoroughly hidden by the Foundation, so other enemies seemed unaware of its true nature. The Violet-Beacons floating in nearby waters also detected no particularly suspicious movements.

“It’s safe for a while!”

No need to rush too much. Now was the time to harvest the spoils. Let’s collect all the useful junk.

“W-What’s going to happen to us?”

“Slaves!”

The prisoners had hoods placed over their heads and were loaded onto belatedly arrived ships and transport planes. Continuing the search, we soon arrived at the former command and control room.

“Is there anything to salvage here?”

**

In a crevice shrouded in pitch-black darkness, amid horrific pain and silence, Director Kwabna barely opened his eyes.

‘It’s not over yet…’

An oppressive weight crushing his entire body and a tearing pain. At least his lower body felt no pain, but that was nothing to be happy about. He had no sensation there at all. His vision was blurry, and his head and body had long been buried under collapsed walls and roof debris. The flow of magic within his body was also in disarray, preventing him from even attempting to remove the debris crushing him. Only the external flames, burning with the Foundation’s secret base as fuel, managed to seep through the dark crevices, providing a faint light. Director Kwabna sensed his fate.

“The Foundation is ruined… but I’m still alive.”

And that his own life would soon end. Slowly dying here, or being consumed by the spreading flames. From the damp sensation, it seemed he was bleeding heavily. He would die even if he just stayed still. It was an injury too severe for even an Awakened to endure.

*Thud!*

Then, a beam of light poured into the darkness. Someone was manually clearing away a huge piece of debris. As the debris was removed, the acrid smoke and the bloody scent of the dark morning air rushed in.

And an unfamiliar voice that pierced his ears.

“Fortunately, one director is still alive.”

Director Kwabna instinctively fumbled at his waist. Grateful that his pistol was still there, he pulled it out and aimed.

“Don’t do anything useless, Director 02.”

It took him only a few seconds to realize it was a meaningless act. The being in front of him effortlessly flicked the pistol away. His last resistance futilely slid across the debris-strewn floor.

“You, you are…”

Emerging from the darkness, bathed in a halo, was a tall, lithe masked man and woman. It was them. The individuals whom Arsyt’s intelligence agencies and Luminax had been watching since the fall of Laplaxia. In particular, the man standing in front was the Awakened who had murdered Chairman Raihan. A dangerous individual, presumed to be a high-ranking executive of the Ariel Group, perhaps even the ringleader of these grotesque clone armies.

“Don’t move. Your injuries are severe. Resisting with a body like that is pointless.”

As Director Kwabna was about to reply, his eyes fell upon the shattered remains of the battleship. Surely, that too had crashed.

The Foundation’s dream had vanished meaninglessly, like a summer night’s dream.

“M-Mock me all you want, terrorist… It seems destroying the Foundation with your army wasn’t enough, was it?”

To Director Kwabna’s taunt, Seijis calmly replied.

“I have no personal feelings. I just came to confirm something. The alien relic on this base, Hecatoncheir. Right? The one you were researching. For the purpose of fighting Eidos.”

Just as he was about to remain silent regarding the confidential question, Director Kwabna felt a strange sense of incongruity in Seijis’s tone and gaze. He gave off an aura as if he knew everything about the Foundation’s long-held ambition.

Furthermore, he seemed to see right through the abominations from other dimensions.

“Just one question. What was the purpose of researching that, exactly?”

A bitter scene flashed through Seijis’s mind. The Foundation’s vile acts, such as stealing students’ assignments under the pretext of alien invasion and dismantling perfectly functional academy research facilities. The last he knew was that all of it was done to awaken some relic. The question of ‘why?’ ultimately remained unanswered.

Deep wrinkles continued to etch themselves onto Director Kwabna’s darkened forehead as he gasped for breath. To ruin the Foundation’s plan and now ask for the reason. He glared at Seijis as if to curse him, growling like a sick animal in a rage.

“You, you barbaric ruffians wouldn’t understand the plan. Hecatoncheir was… a relic that would advance humanity by another step!”

“You intended to use that ship as a weapon? What kind of weapon? What power does it possess?”

When Eidos decided to extend its greedy hand, the Supervisor recalled vaguely seeing the silhouette of Hecatoncheir crashing onto the academy’s western coast. That ship, which the Foundation used in its final struggle, temporarily held back countless monster legions, which helped with the students’ evacuation. That scene left a strong impression on the Supervisor.

However, with the ship now in Violet’s hands and in a strange state, its original functions or abilities were currently unknown. While it could be investigated gradually, it was worth checking with someone who knew about it.

Unaware of the Supervisor’s thoughts, Director Kwabna scoffed with disbelief.

“A weapon? A weapon, you say? Haha, utterly foolish. Is it like giving a jewel to a child? Do those who only commit sabotage or assassination plots know nothing but such simple things?! That is not a weapon. It’s a factory that makes weapons!”

“A factory?”

“Argh, ugh… Yes! A factory! You damn system subverters. I’ll tell you what you’ve done.”

At the unexpected word, the eyes of the Supervisor siblings, who had been focusing on Director Kwabna’s words, widened.

“Hecatoncheir is an mobile advance base and weapon manufacturing facility created by an alien civilization… It was merely dormant… If only we had awakened it, we could have ended this tiresome stalemate!”

Sophieel, who was watching, asked.

“So, was sending agents to raid companies and research labs, and turning innocent people into imbeciles or capturing them, all under the pretext of patent infringement, because of that thing? Did you really have to go that far?”

“Ha, had to go that far? You know nothing! That was the scientific essence of an unknown alien race that shone brilliantly across the sea of stars! The last legacy of those who fought equally against the abominations from other dimensions… We could have awakened it by continuously injecting information… It would have poured out advanced weapons to arm Trist’s entire army like grains of sand on a beach!”

Director Kwabna now cried out in anger and despair.

“But… but it’s all over! Because you bastards shattered everything! The central archives, which would have fed it to awaken, you smashed! The ship is in that state! Do you understand me?! You yourselves destroyed humanity’s future with your own hands! Did you enjoy your shallow play-acting of justice? Was it fun defying the world order called the Teatime Accord? You yourselves ruined the path humanity should take! Thanks to your revolution games, humanity lost its trump card to overturn Monad’s throne!”

Director Kwabna, who had unleashed his anger like a waterfall, then slumped in despair. He muttered in a weak voice.

“…I curse you, Ariel Group…”

“Curse?”

At the clear voice, everyone present turned their heads. Adorable blonde girls were rummaging everywhere like children searching for snacks. Among them, a blue-haired girl stood as if being dragged along.

“…So, it was a girl after all. Using children, huh? We’re not in a position to say anything, but you lot are truly vicious. Why, are you ashamed as a leader?”

One of the little Violets interrupted and retorted.

“Leader? You mean those two?”

“No! Not the leader!”

“We are our own leader!”

Director Kwabna was speechless at the bright, almost childish, reactions of the little ones.

“Oh! That old man, one of the board members!”

“Should we kill him?”

The girls exchanged glances with the adult man and woman. The Director thought.

‘Did the Foundation, fall to such a group of imbeciles?’

He closed his eyes in despair, accepting the approaching death. If a voice hadn’t struck his ears the next moment, holding him back.

“Hecatoncheir! Come here!”

“Ow! Why do you keep dragging me around! You devil! And that’s not even my name!”

“Always talking about devils. Not a devil, I’m the leader!”

Director Kwabna struggled to open his eyes and saw the blue-haired girl passing right beside him.

It was then that Sophieel, with an embarrassed expression, spoke.

“Um, just to clarify one thing, it seems you’re mistaken. Hecatoncheir… that relic is fine. That child *is* the relic.”

“A relic, you say! This body is a noble Nornir’s envoy! You ignorant fool!”

“…?”

It was a familiar word. How could that child know?

The blue-haired girl stomped her foot, then was given a light thwack and dragged away. To Director Kwabna, who wore a bewildered expression, Seijis explained calmly, yet with a hint of pity.

“That child is Hecatoncheir. She awakened just a moment ago.”

“Nonsense—”

It was at that moment that a golden sphere appeared before Director Kwabna, Unit 02’s eyes. Hanging beneath a medium airship, bound by chains and various cables, was the ship’s heart. It emitted a brilliant light.

That was it. It was unmistakably the light the Foundation had yearned for so desperately.

“How?”

Violet and the Supervisor answered simultaneously.

“I don’t know!”

“That child awakened her. The method… must be the way you’re thinking.”

In the face of such clear evidence, Director Kwabna realized that decades of the Foundation’s efforts had crumbled to nothing in an instant. A bewilderment greater than despair filled his mind. He gathered his last remaining life force and, seeking the final meaning of his existence, painfully opened his mouth.

The Director, without realizing it, asked his final question.

“Th-There. Ariel.”

“Why are you calling?”

“Are you on humanity’s side, or Eidos’s side?”

The little Violet asked back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Huh? We’re on our friends’ side.”

Director Kwabna, who had been staring blankly, let out a hollow laugh. He was so dumbfounded that he felt the blood rush to his head. All strength drained from his body, and he rapidly grew cold.

If it was like this, if it was going to be like this.

If he had known it would turn out this way.

Why had they fought, anyway?

‘Were we the imbeciles?’

The man slowly bowed his head, his eyes empty. Violet approached, checked his face a few times, and tapped his head. There was no movement.

“What the?! Supervisor, she’s dead!”

“He bled a lot.”

At Seijis’s words, Violet looked at the pool of blood on the floor and nodded. It made sense. Not that she had intended to absorb him anyway.

“How boring. I’m hungry!”

“I want to go home!”

The Supervisor nodded.

“Yes, let’s go back. Home.”

Twenty minutes later, the Ariel Group withdrew from X-B29 Base. Leaving nothing behind.

**

And so, Ruzilin’s Cheolkwon welcomed a new comrade.

“Cheolkwon! Here’s a new friend, Kale!”

As Hecatoncheir entered the hangar, she let out a shriek upon seeing the giant metal object.

“Ugh! A steel demon!”

*Thwack!*

“You shouldn’t say things like that to a friend!”

The tank girl stared blankly at her new neighbor, while the ship girl clutched her head. Violet fell into thought.

‘How am I going to tame this one?’

It was a day not long before the new semester began.