Ch.302Final Act – Indomitable Spirit (1)

“Those commie bastards seem to have succeeded, and are we the only ones left?”

The angel Yehoel tilted his head at the detective with a grinning smile, as the communication reached even the angels. The detective who was being carried by him nodded briefly.

“We’re the only ones left. And, do you want to make small talk while flying through the sky?”

The sky was as black as a silver screen after a movie ends. Nothing was visible, and the lights of people trying to resist the so-called salvation that the Industrial Spirit King was attempting to bring about were too distant to see from this height.

Yehoel was flying higher than usual. Though he was carrying the detective, the detective wasn’t afraid of the sensation of his legs dangling in the void. He feared deliberate falls more than heights.

He had seen angel terminals before, but the Industrial Spirit King had a strange obsession with making terminals look as if they were surrounded by machinery. No such angels were visible now.

After briefly looking down, Yehoel shuddered and shook his head. Flying without being able to gauge the ground was spine-chilling even for angels.

“Ugh, not at all. But right now, the Industrial Spirit King will be completely distracted by his terminals, and then he’ll have a bomb explode behind his head on top of that. Can anyone handle that kind of situation? Absolutely not.”

“Don’t talk nonsense about ‘absolutely.’ Even the things I’ve done for you, I have no idea how I managed them. Do I seem special to you? Do I seem like I’m somebody? But the Industrial Spirit King is somebody. What a nobody like me can do, somebody like him can definitely do too.”

Yehoel didn’t bother to contradict the detective’s words. It was quite amusing to see New York’s only experienced god hunter insist that he wasn’t special.

In that sense, he was an ordinary guy. Wanting to be ordinary was a common human trait. Yehoel was the same. Except when he wanted to look impressive to the prostitutes of Iris, being an ordinary angel was preferable.

The flying angels cut through New York at a decent speed. The Industrial Spirit King, who had risen to his feet, was getting closer. As they approached, the ground began to shake and the sound of creaking machinery echoed.

He seemed unaware of their approach. It was the sound of the ground crumbling and breaking under his weight. Even with Argonne eyes that could pierce darkness, they couldn’t see clearly from this distance.

Inspector Semangelof, flying at the front, called out just loud enough for the angels to hear. Though shaken by the shock of losing the terminals, as long as the main body remained intact, things would be fine.

Until now, both the Argonne Invincibles and the Idealists currently operating on the ground had only tried to deal with the terminals because they couldn’t handle anything else. The Spirit King had made that clear.

“Everyone, ascend! The Machine of the Age might shoot machine guns at us for all I know, but we’ll dive down, drop the bomb boxes, and immediately ascend. That gives the bomb-droppers the best chance of survival!”

An angel carrying a bomb box snickered at those words. Death wasn’t particularly frightening to angels anyway. Some even tattooed the number of times they had died.

“Ah, no need for such consideration! We volunteered so we could gloriously die in the line of duty and then rest for about a week while waiting for the God-President to remold us!”

Inspector Semangelof, or rather the Industrial Spirit King connected to him, shouted in a gruff voice. He had a reason to make them dive, and a plausible excuse.

“How the hell are you going to drop bombs accurately in this fucking dark sky without knowing where that concrete temple is! It’s most certain to dive after properly positioning ourselves!”

There were no objections after that. The angels ascended to a high altitude, almost reaching the highest point of the wall erected by the Industrial Spirit King, and began looking down.

The Industrial Spirit King turned the Machine of the Age accordingly. The angels positioned directly above the chimney of his concrete temple could see the flames creating smoke. They could see the smoke billowing out.

Seeing this, the Industrial Spirit King shouted through Inspector Semangelof. It was time for Semangelof’s betrayal to hit them in their empty solar plexuses.

“Everyone, descend! Those with bomb boxes get in the middle and the rest surround them! I’ll take the lead, so fly in escort formation and everyone fly up the moment the boxes are thrown! Understood?”

As affirmative shouts were heard, the detective whispered quietly to Yehoel. It was quiet enough that even Inspector Semangelof couldn’t hear. Something felt ominous about flying down into the smoke.

“Hey, when I signal, fly up earlier. You don’t want to get caught in the explosion either, right? Something… feels off about how smoothly this is going.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll do as you say. Why, are you getting scared unlike yourself? Don’t be afraid. That Inspector sir is quite a decent boss. You know that.”

The detective wanted to say it wasn’t fear, but he remained silent. Maybe it was fear. It was a very subtle sensation that even he couldn’t be sure of.

Inspector Semangelof shouted with a confident voice. It was actually the Industrial Spirit King smirking with a sense of victory, but to them it sounded like confidence.

“Well, Christmas has passed, but let’s deliver a gift down the chimney! Begin descent!”

Despite his uneasiness, the detective squinted his eyes in the smoke. The bodies of the Argonne Invincibles could certainly withstand this level of interference. The angels gathered at the highest point began to descend, starting with Inspector Semangelof.

The descent was steep. Flying through smoke, most angels had to close their eyes. How fast were they falling? The detective wondered briefly, but even he didn’t know their exact location.

The descent was very brief but seemed endless. As the detective’s eyes began to sting from the smoke and wind, he lifted his head. After giving his eyes a brief rest, he looked down again. The ground seemed to be vibrating.

He wasn’t sure whether to trust his senses or his feelings. Could Inspector Semangelof see properly ahead? The detective, with his good night vision, was still somewhat able to look down at the ground.

They should have been in the middle of the sky. Although the Industrial Spirit King’s body was at a high position, it wasn’t that high. But the detective vaguely saw what looked like ground.

It wasn’t vague. It was definitely ground. The ground was much higher than where it should have been. The detective elbowed Yehoel in the chest.

“Hey, thrust forward! Shit! Either we miscalculated or that bastard Semangelof…”

Yehoel instinctively jerked his body, changing from a vertical descent to an almost horizontal trajectory. They felt the heavy momentum of the turn, but both the Invincible and the angel could withstand it.

Then came a horrific sound. Angels who weren’t carrying someone with eyes as good as the detective’s couldn’t detect the approaching ground from a distance that would allow them to barely adjust their course.

The angels who plunged toward the ground with the combined weight of their golden bodies and the velocity of vertical descent became marks on the concrete body of the Industrial Spirit King. Golden feathers scattered.

Only then could the detective see that the Industrial Spirit King was swinging his hand with precise timing. The plan had been discovered. Was there a terminal? There had clearly been only angels, and all angels had been fine.

Where had the bomb boxes gone? The mission had to be completed. Even if they had been intercepted midway, they should have gotten closer to the Industrial Spirit King’s body. The detective hoped the boxes weren’t destroyed.

Fortunately, he spotted an angel holding a bomb box nearby. Thanks to flying in formation with one angel in front and another behind, even if the angel in front had died crashing into the Industrial Spirit King, the one behind seemed to be intact.

The box was quite damaged, but the dynamite inside didn’t appear to be spoiled. The detective whistled and shouted.

“We’re fucked… Hey, Yehoel! Below! Retrieve the box! I’ll hold it, then go back down to the chimney! Even if we die, we’ll complete the mission first. Got it?”

“Hey, you can be restored too… Fine. Rather than putting you down and going down alone, carrying you together probably has a better chance. Can you hold it by yourself?”

While the angel who had crashed into the ground was still dazed, Yehoel, carrying the detective, carefully flew toward the tilting ground. The detective grabbed the box, and Yehoel, feeling the weight, began flying again.

Fortunately, the fuse was still burning, and most of the dynamite was intact. It might be enough to deliver a decisive blow. They had to place their hopes on the remaining dynamite.

It wasn’t far to the Industrial Spirit King’s body. It wasn’t far to the flames emitted by that concrete temple. However, the concrete temple seemed much closer than he had expected.

He’s lifting his body too. The landing point would likely be near the concrete temple, not directly above it. This time, the detective properly instructed Yehoel.

“That bastard plans to crush and kill us too. He’s lifting his entire body. Change direction slowly and land. Can you land as close as possible to that chimney from this position? It has to be close. You know the fuse is burning. If we mess up, we’ll just die for nothing. Got it?”

“I know, so don’t worry, you little shit. And this Officer Yehoel’s flying skills are praised by angel superiors…”

Yehoel could now see the Industrial Spirit King’s body, which was becoming audible. Soon, from their perspective, the road appeared to be attached like a wall, and buildings seemed to stand horizontally rather than vertically.

Yehoel skillfully adjusted the angle of flight to fly straight toward the Industrial Spirit King’s concrete temple. Thanks to the tilted body, the door was already open. They just needed to throw it inside.

They could escape at the very last moment. Both Yehoel and the detective gritted their teeth, and Yehoel, having determined the flight path, said to the detective.

“Can you see the door? You must. I’m going to turn from vertical to horizontal like we just did. Throw it inside when you feel the momentum!”

“Confirmed. I’m the second payload, huh. If necessary, throw me in too. I’ll at least make sure to stuff dynamite into that bastard’s mouth.”

Their plan was going smoothly. The Industrial Spirit King was too massive to reach Yehoel and the detective in their position. There should have been no resistance. But that wasn’t the case.

Street lights around them were turning on. Lights from the factory district were flashing toward the Industrial Spirit King’s concrete temple, starting to locate their position. Even the street light right above them turned on.

The detective quickly looked around, but being under the light, he couldn’t see well into the darkness. He tensed his body, but what came at them couldn’t be repelled by mere tension.

The Industrial Spirit King, having located their position, sent the angel terminal that was once named Semangelof to emerge from the darkness obscured by street lights and ram into them at the critical moment.

It didn’t take long for Yehoel to lose his balance. The detective tried with all his might to hold onto the dynamite box, but since angels were stronger than Invincibles, he eventually lost his grip on the box from the impact.

The dynamite box, Yehoel, the detective, and the angel terminal all began to fall simultaneously. Yehoel barely managed to embrace the detective with his wings as they fell, but that was all.

There was a bizarrely fierce sound as the bodies of the angel and human were thrown against the concrete wall with somewhat reduced speed. The detective’s body bounced off and rolled over a window on the outer wall of the Machine of the Age’s concrete temple.

Still, he could feel his toes and move his legs. The detective immediately got up and drew the Sol Invictus gladius. His ears were ringing. One ear couldn’t hear. It must be from the impact.

He felt like he couldn’t maintain balance, but his eyes were fine except for a shaking field of vision. Yehoel was also groaning but barely managing to get up. The detective staggered toward the dynamite box.

Just a few yards to drag it. Not far from touchdown. Gasping for breath, he grabbed one corner of the box with his hand and pulled, but the box didn’t move at all.

It wasn’t that his hand had lost strength. Now the angel terminal with completely emotionless eyes was looking down at him. From it came not the voice of Inspector Semangelof but that of the Industrial Spirit King.

“You didn’t expect this, did you, Michael? Still, this isn’t a failure. If it’s a failure, it’s failing to prevent salvation. So…”

“Yehoel, you son of a bitch! Get up! Come deal with this angel first! We just need to throw the dynamite box!”

The detective shouted in a voice frantic with excitement. Yehoel, who had barely gotten up, came running, but the angel terminal connected to the Industrial Spirit King burst into laughter.

“What can a half-broken human and an angel do that makes you so desperate? No need to stop it. This too is salvation. Since the God-President didn’t prevent his creation from becoming a terminal…”

The fuse was almost burned out. We’re fucked. The detective reached out his hand to signal Yehoel not to approach, but Yehoel didn’t slow down. He too knew the fuse was burning out.

Additionally, Yehoel knew he couldn’t handle this better than the detective. He was a messed-up angel and a self-preserving angel, but to him, death was lighter than failure.

Yehoel once again embraced the detective’s body and spread his wings to wrap around both of them, turning his back toward the dynamite box. The Industrial Spirit King’s voice continued but was drowned out by the explosion.

“This is permitted! This is a duty received from the God-President! You can’t interfere with that…”

For an instant, the detective couldn’t hear anything. Even his vision flashed. He couldn’t feel pain, but he could feel his body becoming lighter as if floating upward.

The explosion of a box of dynamite left a sound loud enough for even Rose to hear. A huge ball of flame stripped the gold painted on Yehoel’s wings and tore his body apart.

Fortunately, the explosion occurred in an open space so the force was dispersed, but it was still more than enough to tear apart the bodies of the two. The detective could only tell that his body was rolling somewhere.

He needed to regain consciousness somehow, but his body barely moved. He propped himself up with his right hand. He couldn’t feel his left side. In front of his right hand was his left hand gripping the Sol Invictus gladius.

His body wouldn’t move below the waist. Each wheezing breath only made his breathing more labored. Blood seemed to be flowing from his chest. The detective couldn’t fully assess the condition of his body.

The Industrial Spirit King tilted his body. The detective forcibly grabbed his left hand holding the Sol Invictus sword with his tingling right hand, but his body helplessly began to roll with the tilt.

He rolled into the temple of the Machine of the Age as he had so desired. Rolling helplessly toward the door, he fell for quite a while toward the opposite wall and was impaled on his back.

The terrifying vitality of an Argonne Invincible kept him still breathing, but it was just barely that.

At that moment, two hands approached. They were factory component hands made of machinery. The two hands sat the detective up. The detective spat out a handful of blood and tissue. He reached for the gladius.

The mythril giant hand of the Industrial Spirit King, who had somehow approached him, stepped on the Sol Invictus gladius with divinity.

The gladius shattered against the same divinity. The detective brought the broken sword to his hand. The Industrial Spirit King spoke in an almost reverent tone.

“Marvelous. Marvelous… Do you have any last words? I’ll listen to that much. You’re lucky enough to leave last words. Lucky enough for people to remember them. Speak.”

He brought his face right up to the detective’s eyes. The detective’s voice, mixed with the smell of blood, sounded like a whisper. It was what he had to say. The sound of flesh tearing continued with swish, swish.

“I’m… sorry… It’s… my… fault…”

The Industrial Spirit King nodded the head of his mythril giant hand with respect for his words. He wanted to convey it clearly. He wanted to remember the portrait of a person who burned until the very end.

“To whom are you speaking? Hmm? I will convey it. The brave and humane deserve their due reward. Speak. I am now on your side. My creator. My creator, so ugly yet so beautiful. Whisper. I can hear everything. Everything down to the most trivial detail.”

“To my comrades… of the 308th… Infantry Regiment…”