"And precisely because it was immature, it was feared—its chance to evolve into a higher-dimensional space was cut off from the start."
"So even the former Little Garden was no more than an unfinished creation."
As the White Night King spoke with steady composure, a buried hatred slipped out despite herself.
"But never mind that."
"The fact is, they made an absolute mess of it—and then just dusted off their hands and walked away."
That was teeth-gritting fury. It should have been a heavy moment, yet Haramura Makoto nearly laughed at the sight of her like this.
"Pardon me," she said with a breath. "Got a little carried away."
"At any rate, after those people schemed away my solar sovereignties and founded a new Little Garden," she continued, "I used a special method to preserve the core-most part of Little Garden's central system before it fully collapsed."
"Kid—are you following?"
"I am."
Her explanation was simple and clear enough, and in truth, he'd already begun to grasp what she was getting at.
"The former Little Garden Core had two simplest methods for admitting a new world," she said. "First, by the pressure of a higher-dimensional world on a lower one—to forcibly bring it under control. Second, by having an entrant to that world become its guidepost."
"Put plainly: make the world will itself shift because of that person, altering its normal course."
"Then the Little Garden Core could, without ceremony, incorporate it."
"So yes," she concluded, "what you said—becoming a world's ruler—is indeed one way to achieve the goal."
It matched Makoto's thoughts with hardly any deviation.
"And likewise," he added, "in any domain, if one manages to change the world, that counts too, right?"
A single ruler altering history was one thing. But what about a Tesla inventing electricity? That changed the course of the world as well—so long as he did it first.
"Exactly. Smart," she said, giving his shoulder an approving tap.
"But you're not going to send me to such easy worlds, are you?" he asked. "Even if I succeeded, they wouldn't do much to restore this place."
He narrowed his eyes, sharp gaze fixed on her. The White Night King smiled, her lips curving wider.
"Right—you understand me," she said. "Such worlds, however many, are a drop in the bucket. To truly restore the Core, they'd be of little use."
It might have sounded like a riddle traded between two, but anyone quick on the uptake could follow.
How many worlds would it take to fully revive Little Garden? At a minimum, perhaps half of what the original Little Garden once held, at the very least. A number beyond vast.
For Makoto, ordinary worlds would be simple—knowledge learned in a place as advanced as Academy City would shake almost any mundane world. But gathering them one by one? Even ten thousand years might not be enough.
So what did he need? Helpers—many of them. People who could share the load, who could help him collect worlds. Quantity tipping into quality. That had been Little Garden's growth model once.
Could he recruit such helpers in ordinary, unremarkable worlds? Perhaps, but in pitiful numbers. What about a world brimming with gods and buddhas, where extraordinary power was commonplace? Recruits there could conquer a world by strength alone—becoming rulers with ease.
Not to mention Academy City's First Ranked—if he wished, in a plain world he could do it single-handedly.
"Does it feel daunting?" the White Night King asked, smiling sidelong at him.
"Of course there's pressure," he said. "At the end of the day, I'm an ordinary person. Even my esper development is nothing special—just a body stronger than most."
"Is that really true?" she cut in. "Do you truly think your spatial distortion and your physique are that simple?"
Academy City's tests had read "Raw Talent: Spatial Distortion," unmoving for ten years. His unique body, even developed rationally, seemed to have hit its limit. And yet, she was saying he still had more.
"The real treasure in this body hasn't been opened," she said. "I can't do much more in my current state. But what I can do is help you fully unlock that treasure."
She touched the tip of her fan lightly to his chest.
A warm current seemed to flow from the fan into him. His consciousness turned heavy, thoughts slipping away.
…
A silver door closed with a hush, and the surrounding distortions of space gradually eased to stillness. A faint smile hung at the White Night King's lips as everything around began to collapse—the starlit sky, the exquisite garden, all unweaving from the moment the silver doors shut.
Her smile would not leave her face.
"White Night King—you're the Little Garden Core, aren't you?"
That had been Makoto's last question before the door drew him in. She had not answered—only smiled.
"I will make this starry sky blaze with constellations again."
That was his final promise before he vanished.
"Honestly—what a smooth talker," she chuckled, unable to hold back. With a gentle wave, everything reset to the way it had been the first time he'd come.
"But that keen intuition…" she murmured. "It's exactly like that woman's. And that… annoys me a little."