[462] The Call of Ra (4)
Second Heaven, Lakia.
A city of fallen angels.
Every building was white, but the walls shimmered with a red haze like heat mirage.
The streets lay empty, and from the thousands of spires leaked sounds braided with every imaginable emotion.
As many different sounds as there were fallen angels.
There were no taboos here; unrestrained minds had lost control and surged toward countless pleasures.
Kariel had arrived at the building that served as Lakia's executive seat.
The vast brick edifice was labyrinthine like a fortress, three spires stabbing at the sky.
The Hall of Corruption.
In a space as vast as the Great War's battlefields, plaster statues of countless fallen angels stood as if honoring heroes.
The statues' poses revealed innumerable acts—some understandable to humans, others beyond any human standard.
Kariel hurled Miro and Arius toward the altar of the Hall of Corruption.
Arius rolled on the floor, then crouched like a dog that had lost its prey, baring his teeth.
"Krrr! Krrr!"
Kariel paid him no heed and looked at Miro.
In her sharp eyes he could see her mind turning, calculating the situation.
"No need to struggle. Either way, you're going to die."
"Heh—looks like you're the one trembling. Your face a moment ago was a sight to behold."
Kariel's expression hardened.
Ikael wasn't feared simply because she was strong.
Those who suffer are always the ones who have given their hearts; betrayal sinks deeper than pain—an anguish that makes the world go dark under the weight of anger directed at oneself.
"Do you think you defeated Heaven's army? No. You're merely someone's successor. And now even that power has been extinguished."
Kariel snapped his fingers and the hall's statues glowed red. Hundreds of maras burst forth and surged at Miro.
"Kraaaah!"
A multitude of hideous monsters bared their teeth at Miro.
"Detestable woman! I'll crush your bones to dust!"
"I'll tear out your soul! I'll make you wander forever in Hell's pit!"
Voices that raised the hairs on one's neck echoed nearby.
Arius paced anxiously around Miro, consumed by hostility so fierce he wanted to sink his nails into flesh.
Miro, however, didn't even blink.
She gave her heart to no one. Because of that, everyone hurled theirs at her.
Miro's detachment sat above every other heart, and for that reason she could not feel fear.
"What are you planning? Whatever you were trying to do seems to have failed."
Ikael's fierce cry carried to Miro.
And if this truly was the city of fallen angels, it meant Kariel was already severed—an outsider of Heaven with his limbs cut off.
Kariel had thought of that too.
With Ikael risen to archangel, the other great angels would not move.
A thought flashed through his mind: perhaps ending it here would be best.
But his resolve shifted quickly.
'Ikael.'
The stronger she became, the more terrifying she grew—and the more his desire swelled to stand above her heart.
'Is that all there is?'
Kariel turned away without answering.
The maras backed off from Miro and showed signs of submission.
"O shining archangel, where are you headed?"
Because Lakia was a fallen city, Heaven's forces could not be stationed here.
Then there were those who fit the task perfectly.
"To Muspelheim."
Kariel became light and flew up.
Toward the land of the corrupted giants.
* * *
"I—Ikael?"
The rebels fell into confusion at Ikael's arrival alone.
Her name carried more destructive force than any barrage.
They had once been subjects of Heaven. Ikael's deeds—purging heresies and obliterating an entire civilization—occupied one of the brightest places in legend.
Gaold watched Ikael closely.
Just looking couldn't provide objective measures.
You don't understand combat without fighting; it's an aggregate of countless variables.
'There's absolutely no way to beat that.'
Gaold quietly admitted the opponent's power.
A fully awakened archangel Ikael was not a thing to be analyzed as a mere combatant.
She was pure force—amplification incarnate of nature itself.
And she had come alone.
The only reasonable conclusion was that Ikael herself must believe she could destroy the Rebel First Command single-handedly.
'Ikael….'
While complicated thoughts flickered through everyone's minds, only Shirone's went blank.
He had never imagined they would meet like this—neither before coming to Heaven nor after.
His heart pounded and his fingertips trembled.
But the beautiful smile he had once seen on Ikael's face was gone.
Only the authority of the archangel who commanded Heaven showed in her expression.
Kiiiiiing!
A sharp metallic shriek rang out as Babel flew from the armory.
Babel, refitted with algorithms by Shirone, instantly detected an angelic presence far beyond normal parameters and brought every combat function to readiness.
"T—This can't be…"
The rebels stared, stunned.
Only when the two presences shared the same space did it truly register: Ikael and Babel matched perfectly in form.
Of course, Babel's beauty could not compare to the original, but from stature and curvature down to the fingertips it was identical.
'Babel….'
Ikael looked at the machine that looked exactly like her.
She knew it was the only unit of its kind, and she knew who had made it, but every conversation she had shared with that person had already been erased.
Still, a faint melancholy colored her gaze.
Even if the memories had been wiped, the events themselves had not vanished.
Her body—everything except memory—felt a wistful nostalgia toward Babel.
Kiiing!
Babel lunged at Ikael.
Destroying angels was Babel's raison d'être.
As its iron claws drove toward Ikael's brow, Shirone activated the Ultima system.
'No! Stop!'
Babel froze mid-attack.
But when Shirone looked, there was nothing where Ikael had stood.
She had already leapt, passed behind Babel, and was walking toward the rebels.
Those who had experienced Babel's speed felt chills just watching Ikael move.
'We're supposed to fight that monster to recapture Miro?'
As if dismissing human calculations, Ikael proclaimed to all.
"Receive Ra's will. If you cease the war from this hour, Ra will grant you freedom."
"F—freedom? You mean we win?"
The rebels murmured.
Even with large Targis units at their disposal, the war's outcome was uncertain; a ceasefire proposal from Heaven itself was unexpected.
Commander Crude stepped forward.
"Freedom—what exactly does that mean?"
"State your conditions. I will accede to anything within my power."
Crude glanced at Sein.
Frankly, he had assumed everything was over the moment Ikael appeared, so he hadn't expected such a conciliatory tone.
Sein nodded in agreement.
Although their real purpose here wasn't to liberate the rebels but to rescue Miro, given the circumstances listening was the prudent choice.
"Move us to the command center."
When Crude gestured to the command control room, Ikael shook her head.
"No. The negotiator will not be you."
"Then who?"
All eyes turned to Shirone when Ikael singled him out.
Shirone symbolized the Light of Sector 73 to the rebels. But he lacked both the experience and status to decide terms at a negotiation table. No one could fathom why Ikael would point to him.
"Send him in," Gaold said.
If Shirone's condition for activating God's Punishment was a one-on-one meeting with Ikael, it was the tactically sound choice.
Crude, who trusted Gaold's party, eventually agreed. Shirone and Ikael walked side by side down the control room corridor, guided by officers.
Shirone's mind was still a jumble.
He had no idea what to say first, why she treated him so coldly; many thoughts circled, but there was no time to voice them.
He only guessed—perhaps she was like him.
"This is it. The only room that can't be bugged."
An officer opened the door to the meeting room—the most secure interview room in rebel headquarters—and ushered them in.
The door closed and even the sentries stepped away.
Ikael ordered that no one approach within a hundred meters.
It was an absurd demand considering Shirone's danger level, but everyone knew that if he chose to act, he could do anything.
Shirone and Ikael sat facing each other across the table, and for a long moment neither spoke.
Unable to bear the tension, Shirone forced a smile and broke the silence.
"Long time no see."
At last Ikael's features softened into a faint smile.
"I'm glad you returned safely."
Shirone remembered clearly that she had personally given him Ataraxia.
If not for her, there would likely never have been a chance to meet here again.
Another awkward stillness settled.
Ikael had come under the will of Anke Ra.
She had come to disarm the rebels and open negotiations.
Still, Shirone could not bring himself to speak easily.
'What am I missing…?'
From the moment she saw Shirone, a scraping sensation had gnawed at Ikael's mind.
The Light of Sector 73—the boy who had been given Ataraxia directly.
But why had she once tried to pass on an archangel's power?
Recalling those emotions, the halo around Ikael twitched as if startled.
Her brow furrowed; an unknown feeling seized her whole body.
"You okay?"
Shirone asked with concern.
"I'm fine. Then, first regarding the rebels—"
"Before that, there's something I need to ask."
For Shirone there was one thing he most wanted to hear.
Ikael blinked as if waiting for him to speak; Shirone drew a deep breath and chose his words carefully.
"I've wondered for a long time—do you have anything to tell me? Anything you'd do for me?"
Ikael tilted her head.
There was nothing in particular she had to say to Shirone.
Yet she could not deny the sudden tide of tenderness that rose whenever she saw Babel.
"No."
Ikael answered firmly.
Her voice cold, as if forcing herself to deny it.
"I have nothing personal to tell you."
Shirone's heart sank.
He had risked his life to come to Heaven because he was certain he would hear those words. But—
"You have nothing at all to say?"
"I don't know what you mean."
In that instant Ikael's voice trembled.
The memory might be gone, but her heart had already been cast.
She tried desperately to squeeze words out, and the more she struggled, the more a vast sorrow welled up from somewhere unknown.
She pinched her face as if holding back pain and finally managed to utter in a strained voice,
"There is nothing I can say to you."
Ikael stared at Shirone as if searching for the thing that tormented her heart.
At that moment, clear tears slipped from her brightly shining eyes.
She did not know the meaning of the tears she was shedding now.