[505] Wholeheartedness (4)
"Kariel…."
Satiel could not believe it.
By her standards he had once been the most strikingly handsome of the archangels, a man who exuded intellect and immaculate grace.
But nothing of that Kariel remained now.
Paiyel had trampled him savagely; his spine was bent the wrong way and his torso was crushed flat against the ground.
His face was forced between his legs, and his chest had been torn open by the aura of annihilation.
Half-exposed on the earth like that, staring up at the sky, he must have been the most wretched sight in the world.
And yet his eyes were deeper than Satiel had ever seen—and astonishingly, utterly calm.
Ah—so that was it.
Even if his back had been broken, Paiyel's aura of annihilation had mercilessly gnawed away at Kariel's presence until almost nothing remained.
He couldn't hold on much longer.
But the peace he'd found in the final moments of his existence tasted like a reward for all the long years he had spent hating Ikael.
"If I'd known I'd feel this much hatred… I should have given everything away from the start."
If she had known how deep her hatred would grow, if she had known she would waste countless ages on useless resentment—
She should simply have granted every wish she'd ever had.
"Well, it doesn't matter anymore."
She had thought she could never forgive. No logic could have changed her mind.
But the moment she saved Ikael, the hatred vanished as if it had been a lie.
Left in its place were only the intoxication of having saved her and a deep, aching regret.
"Kariel, are you all right?"
At Satiel's voice, Kariel turned his head with great effort.
For the first time since the war began, he thought of his role as an archangel.
"You mustn't annihilate Ikael."
Satiel's face twisted.
"What are you saying—!"
"I'll be gone soon. You know that."
Satiel ground her teeth.
Metatron and Metiel had already been annihilated, and Kariel wouldn't last much longer either.
If Ikael were erased as well, the balance of the Law would tip in Satan's favor with the disappearance of four archangels.
If that happened, no measure at an angel's level could stop Satan.
"I understand how you feel. It's not different from mine. You don't even have anyone you can give your heart to."
Satiel hated that fact itself.
"Heart? Do you think a noble spiritual being like an angel would be swayed by something like a heart?"
"Ha."
Kariel gave a dry smile and looked up at the sky.
"You already are."
Sensing the end of his life, Kariel dredged up an ancient memory that had long been sunk in the abyss.
"Is that so, Ikael?"
"In the beginning there was an amplification."
Ikael had called Kariel and Yuriel over and explained.
"From that amplification the concepts of being and non-being were born. In other words, existence and non-existence came into being."
Meeting Kariel's bright gaze, Ikael affectionately stroked his head.
Kariel purred like a cat in pleasure.
"Being and non-being. The concepts that govern them are creation and destruction—that is, you two."
Kariel asked, "Then what existed before the amplification? Was there nothing at all?"
Ikael liked Kariel's ever-curious nature.
"Heh, to say there was nothing…."
Uorin spoke up.
"It was nothing."
Gando watched Uorin's every expression as he spoke of the beginning, listening intently.
"In other words, there was no time, no space. It's not like imagining a blank sheet of paper. Even if you erase paper, that isn't non-being."
Humans can understand non-being conceptually but cannot experience it. Non-being exists prior to experience.
"Then what was there before this world was created? Was it ultimately a state of nothingness?"
"Probably."
"But Gando, think of it this way: if the state of 'being' doesn't exist, then the state of 'non-being' can't exist either."
Therefore, even if there truly was nothing at the beginning, humans mustn't define it as "nothing."
If you label it non-being, you create a contradiction that violates the concept itself.
"Then how do we define that primordial state?"
Uorin raised a forefinger.
"Shutdown."
"Shutdown?"
Kariel echoed.
He already understood, but wanted to hear it again.
"Yes. Whether something exists or not, it's a state that is switched off. So there is no matter, not even concept…."
Ikael cut to the chase and moved on.
"Then some action occurred."
Even an archangel born from the primal source had no better way to describe the shutdown state.
"That action flipped the shutdown into an active state. It was at the very starting point of that amplification…."
Uorin crossed his index fingers into an X.
"Being and non-being reference each other and are born together. Bits defined as 0 and 1 combine into infinite patterns, and from that the universe began to take form."
Yuriel asked, "Then what is amplification?"
Not usually the curious type, Yuriel turned to Ikael with an intrigued look.
Ikael smiled sheepishly.
"That's something even I don't know."
Uorin said, "It's something none of us can know. Only that something acted, and this world awoke. What that was—maybe a faint electrical stimulus, maybe a massive explosion that pushed the cosmos away. In truth it doesn't matter."
Uorin snapped his fingers.
"A momentary instant from my fingertip could be the beginning or the end of some universe. Or it could be an absolute command from a transcendent being."
"I see."
The possibilities were infinite and unknowable.
What mattered was that some action had amplified something into being.
"But strangely—no, peculiarly," Uorin leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, "humans have a single word that perfectly mirrors that action. Care to guess?"
Gando pondered for a long time, then finally couldn't hold back and asked, "I don't know. What is it?"
"It is—"
Uorin paused for effect, then smiled meaningfully.
"The mind."
Kruoooo!
On the brink of collapse, Shirone's consciousness found a faint glimmer of steadiness.
His vision cleared, and he could see Ikael's face, pale to the point of near transparency.
Why—?
Shirone knew she was already beyond recovery.
He had steeled himself; thus he felt neither regret nor clinging.
And yet Ikael was desperately trying to keep Shirone alive.
Why would she bother to prolong those few extra minutes?
"Fool."
Paiyel activated Apatheia and crushed Ataraxia.
"Kyaaaah!"
At Ikael's scream, Shirone's fragile mind, just beginning to hold together, faltered and tumbled again.
"Hngh!"
Shirone fought with everything he had.
"No! It can't end like this!"
As everything rushed toward the end, what came to Shirone's mind was Julu's teaching.
That which governs the spirit is the mind.
But the mind has no substance and cannot be trained directly.
"The secret of the mindless heart."
To place oneself into the flow of breath and stop the activity of the mind.
"Control the explosion!"
Shirone inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
With every outward breath he cast away something important.
Ikael, heaven, life, death—the hatred that had filled his head. Nothing remained.
Just breathe in, breathe out.
Return to the basics of a living creature.
"Hoo. Hah. Hoo. Hah."
Plop.
The Spirit Zone that had sagged lifelessly snapped taut and rose in a firm swell.
"Mind."
Gando intoned Uorin's words.
"Yes. Whatever that primordial event was, what made it occur was the mind. From the action of that mind this universe began."
Uorin rolled up his sleeve and thrust out his right fist.
"Thus the mind changes the Law."
Bang!
At an unseen speed his elbow snapped straight; the fist pierced the air and a shockwave detonated.
"I want to throw a punch at a transcendent speed. This wholehearted desire changes the Law and moves the body."
"That is divine transcendence."
"Divine transcendence—yacha," Uorin corrected with the precise term.
"It momentarily amplifies anger to alter the Law acting on the body. The action of the mind is a wondrous thing."
"Impressive skill."
"Heh. Since we're at it, I'll show you one more."
Uorin lifted his fist again and aimed it at Gando.
"I'll pierce your face."
Saliva clicked down Gando's throat.
Knowing the sincerity of his intent made her hairs stand on end.
"How about it? Is that possible too?"
Having calmed her mind, Gando shook her head.
"Impossible."
"Why?"
"Because it exceeds the authority of the mind."
Uorin nodded and lowered his arm.
"Right. Will is mine alone. Even if I strike with my best blow, whether your face is pierced is an entirely different matter."
"Divine transcendence governs the body."
"But—"
Uorin suddenly raised his fist again like a surprise attack.
Before Gando could say anything, he snapped his elbow out at savage speed.
"How about this?"
Bang!
The fist struck the void and exploded.
Though the distance was one that could never be physically reached, Gando distinctly felt as if his fist had flown in and shattered her face.
"...."
Gando's arms trembled as she barely held back a scream.
It was a long time before she realized her face was still intact.
"How is this possible?"
Uorin looked pleased with Gando's mastery.
An ordinary human would have gone mad.
"What I struck was not the body but your avatar. So what you saw was my will to smash your head."
Gando finally understood.
Just how monstrous the young girl sitting before them was.
"Psychic transcendence."
Uorin corrected himself again.
"Psychic transcendence—banya. A state of completely empty mind controlling the avatar. It's the opposite of divine transcendence, which concentrates the mind. It's not a level humans living a hundred years could reach. Even those who have attained avatarhood cannot easily imitate it."
Gando accepted it willingly.
To a mage, psychic transcendence was a sweet dream but a state unreachable by effort alone.
It wasn't a place one could get to merely by striving.
"I wasn't trying to suppress your spirit. The world has yacha and banya; they're just what they are. In practice you withstood my blow."
"Thank you for the high praise."
Gando meant it.
Uorin, who usually treated her like something less than an insect, had spoken to her like this—it moved her.
But it also left a bitter aftertaste.
In the end she was still someone who would receive pity. If not for the memories of her biological mother, Teraze Mistra, there would be no reason for him to show such kindness.
Uorin glanced at the gloomy Gando and let out a soft laugh.
Perhaps he'd been too lenient, but for today it would be fine. After all, he had a son soon to shoulder a grave duty.
"Breathe in, breathe out."
"Huh?"
Gando looked up in question, but Uorin simply repeated the same words.
"Breathe in, and breathe out."