Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume8 Epilogue
Epilogue: Beyond Optimism – Catastrophe_XXX.
“Gh…”
“You need to wake up.”
When he heard Aradia’s soft voice, Kamijou focused on his intermittent vision.
He must have passed out for a few minutes, probably because of the oxygen-deficient air. He felt a lot better after taking a few deep breaths on Aradia’s prompting.
The battle was finally over.
He had received Aradia’s full support throughout, but he still thought he had done quite well for a fight against a Transcendent. After all, he had directly fought an official Transcendent and he hadn’t died even once.
(Is there something wrong with me when that feels unusual? Good, Old Mary has me a little too accustomed to dying.)
But winning wasn’t the end of it. In fact, the real challenge began now.
“Where’s Anna Sprengel!?”
“I collected her. She was caught on a partially collapsed floor.”
Aradia was resting her mic stand on her shoulder.
She used that witch’s tools in place of a broom.
Magic flight seemed quite useful when there wasn’t a magician around to interfere.
Aradia placed unconscious Anna and the limp enemy Aradia at her feet and set down the mic stand. Kamijou realized he had completely forgotten about the defeated Aradia, which could have been bad later on. She could do everything Aradia could, after all.
After crouching once to lower her luggage, the Transcendent tossed Kamijou something she picked up from the ground.
“Here you go. It’s the Shrink Drink.”
“Um!?”
“You’re going to negotiate with the Bridge Builders Cabal, aren’t you? Which means you’ll be raiding them. Can’t hurt to have a trump card.”
That special weapon was designed for use against Transcendents. Aradia was in trouble if the spear tip hit her, but she didn’t seem worried while handling it. Kamijou had nervously caught it in his left hand, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it now.
(How do you use it? Mut Thebes always launched it like a guided weapon. For that matter, I can’t refine magic power or anything like that, so is it even possible for me to sue it?)
The witch goddess with a loop of duct tape around her right ankle tilted her head.
“What are you going to do about the defeated Aradia and Mut Thebes?” she asked.
“As dangerous as they are, we’re not stabbing them with this spear.”
Kamijou Touma held the spear shaft between his neck and shoulder like a phone while taking out a roll of sturdy duct tape and pulling out a long piece.
Aradia held a hand to her forehead with sorrow on her face.
“Oh, no. Is this what it looked like when you did it to me? The embarrassment and humiliation are way worse seeing it so objectively.”
“We need to start with binding the second Aradia’s arms and legs and then covering the bottom of her feet so she can’t use her magic, but what’s the source of Mut Thebes’s magic? What can we take from her that would make her harmless?”
“Based on my objective observations, she can lay claim to the shadow of any object that her own shadow touches.”
“Right.”
“So what defines ‘her shadow’? At the very least, I doubt she could ride a jumbo jet and use its shadow on the ground to absorb all the shadows on the ground.”
Kamijou Touma took another look at the girl sprawled out on the ground. It didn’t stand out because so many of the Transcendents chose not to wear much clothing even in winter, but was she showing so much of her skin for a reason?
“Could the condition be only the shadow cast by her bare skin works?”
“Probably so.”
Then he would have to fully wrap her up. Mut Thebes could be neutralized by turning her into a bagworm to cover up all of her skin. But if he turned her into a tape mummy with even the face covered, she would suffocate, so he grabbed a full-face helmet that happened to be lying nearby.
With both defeated Transcendents bound, it was time for Anna. She had been hit by the Shrink Drink, a spiritual item containing the essence of the Alice in Wonderland item labeled “drink me”. Supposedly, not even Good, Old Mary could save her now. The only hope remaining was Alice, the extreme irregular. But this wasn’t going to be easy. He had hurt Alice’s feelings and he wasn’t sure if the consulate even existed anymore. If the cabal had already crossed Academy City’s walls and gone into hiding in the wide world outside, any chance they had evaporated.
“We need to get Anna to Alice. We have Aradia and Mut Thebes tied up, so…oh, I know. Let’s stick them inside a random tank or armored vehicle. Those don’t have windows and they can’t climb the ladder and open the hatch while tied up.”
“Aradia? That’s accurate, but I’d prefer if you came up with names that distinguish her from me.”
“Then how about I call you Dia-chan?”
“Please don’t. It’s scary when a guy comes on too hard.”
The minorly depressed goddess grew a bit flustered. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.
“Um, so would you prefer something more respectful? Like ‘the great grand goddess of goodness’?”
“Does it have to be alliterative? Maybe I was wrong to expect any good ideas out of you.”
Mut Thebes’s eyelids trembled a bit just before Kamijou put the helmet on her.
He flipped her over and grabbed the Shrink Drink spear lying on the ground. The long shaft was really hard to control with just his left hand.
“Th-the fight is already over! We can subdue you before you can absorb any new shadows!!”
“My loss does not matter.”
Mut Thebes’s voice remained calm even after being punched out and wrapped up like a bagworm. As a punishment expert, she may have had a detached view to winning and losing and to life and death.
Or so Kamijou thought, but he was wrong.
The girl had more to say.
“The 2nd Aradia and I had already completed our task.”
For a brief moment, Kamijou couldn’t respond. Or rather, his mind had gone blank. Until Aradia tapped his shoulder, he forgot even to breathe.
But when he thought about it, Mut Thebes had said it from the beginning.
They already had a new Aradia.
They would not have Anna join the ceremony as an irregular guest performer.
In other words…
“You…already did it?” asked an astonished Kamijou Touma.
Then his voice grew louder.
“You Transcendents completed your important ceremony before going after us!? Is that what you mean, Mut Thebes!?”
“Hmm.”
Anna Kingsford raised her arms and stretched her back. Her arms hit the wide brim of her witch-like hat, nearly knocking it off of her, so she had to quickly grab it.
It was late at night on January 4.
Three figures walked through the streets emptied by the martial law declaration: Aleister, Anna Kingsford, and Kihara Noukan the golden retriever.
“It took some ⏱️ to search them out since the consulate was abandoned, but there are ❌ many places they could carry out a ceremony on that scale. We may still arrive in ⏱️.”
“What are you doing?” asked Aleister, sounding extremely displeased.
Nevertheless, the great goddess of knowledge held a hand to her mouth in an elegant fashion and laughed quietly.
“Several Transcendents were reported crossing the wall from the outside. There is ❌ doubt in my 💭 that they are all gathering in Academy City to perform their ceremony. I wonder what has them rushing it so much. Do they believe they can ❌ allow any further accidents now that Alice has frozen?”
“I asked what you are doing! That boy is risking his life in battle somewhere else right now!!”
Aleister finally raised his voice to a shout.
Kingsford did not stop walking.
“Mr. 🐕.”
“Yes?”
“We are about to touch on the depths of 🪄. You could also call it an unsightly private matter. If you are ❌ part of the occult, I recommend you leave now.”
“Not happening.”
“Then without further ado☆” The great goddess of knowledge clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “I am working to find the enemy we must defeat. Aleister, that was your request.”
“And you’re way off! What does attacking that cabal now have to do with that boy!?”
“Do you know who it is the 🌉 Builders Cabal is attempting to create?”
“…?”
Aleister started to yell again, but paused.
“Who they are attempting to create?”
“✔️.”
“You mean it is a person? They went out of their way to prepare an entire fetus for a ceremony designed to summon the soul of a superhuman beast or spirit. It could be Nuit, Hadit, Thoth, Hoor-paar-kraat, or Choronzon. If you are willing to bear the risk of violating the ethics of life in the preparation phase, surely you would choose to summon a god or demon for maximum efficiency.”
“The efforts of all of the cabal’s Transcendents influence the fertilized 🥚. Thus, we only need to speculate who they would all be willing to leave in charge of the 🌍. This is not even about 🪄 – it is a matter of the psychoanalysis begun by Freud. Focus on their actions and it should become obvious who they are attempting to create to save the 🌍. What they long for can be 👁️ from the outside.”
Then who exactly was it?
“But then why the fancy ceremony? If they only need to resurrect an individual, isn’t that a job for their Good, Old Mary?”
“My, my. ❌ even that Transcendent can do a thing when there are ❌ accurate records regarding the location of the person’s body. Her 🪄 appears to require physical contact.”
Anna Kingsford believed simple answers were the most beautiful, so she did not drag things out longer than necessary. Whenever she talked at length, it was to place herself on the listener’s level.
So she soon gave the answer.
It was a legendary holy man symbolized by a cross.
He was someone who journeyed through the desert and healed the people suffering from disease, curses, and sin.
He was the wisest of wise men who would at times hold out his hand and at times provide a mystical potion to work extraordinary miracles and then leave without asking for anything in return.
He was a miracle worker who had fought the world’s ignorance and gathered disciples who shared his goals.
He had healed individual people and ultimately attempted to fight the sickness infecting the entire world, from its philosophies to its nations.
He was a magician of such great skill that no one could ignore him.
Not even Aleister Crowley or Anna Kingsford.
In other words…
“CRC.”
The alluring movements of Kingsford’s lips spelled out those initials.
At the same time, something blared in the sky.
Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
That siren indicated a threat to the city.
Anna Kingsford rephrased the answer as if pushed on by that din.
“Christian Rosencreutz. That is who the 🌉 Builders Cabal is attempting to create by gathering their Transcendents and performing a large Crowley-style 🪄 ceremony.”
In the most secure cell of the District 10 prison, new Board Chairman Accelerator glared silently at the wall.
No, he didn’t even need to view the large screen there.
His cell was sealed so tightly that not even an ant – or even a gas – could get in or out. Nevertheless, he could sense something when he switched on his choker’s electrode.
The vectors were straining.
Like they were gathering on a certain point in the world.
The satellite footage showed nothing.
But there had to be something there when he could sense such a great distortion and straining.
The large screen embedded in the wall displayed a map with a red X at one point.
Accelerator switched back off the electrode while seated on his luxurious bed.
(I know the location, but who should I send in? These aren’t people Anti-Skill or Judgment can handle.)
So should he rely on the more toxic darkness? For example, there were the brutal criminals locked up in this very prison: the sisters Hanatsuyu Kaai and Youen, Rakuoka Houfu, Benizome Jellyfish, Tessou Tsuzuri, etc. Or should he recruit the help of Ladybird, Frillsand #G, or one of the other inhuman monsters still wandering the city’s darkness?
“No,” he said under his breath.
This was nothing as simple as ethics or righteousness. A more grounded sense pleaded with him.
“They won’t do. They aren’t right for the job, like bringing a mahjong cheat tile to a poker game. They would be crushed before they could make use of their advantages.”
What would the old board chairman have done?
Accelerator had no intention of using the same scummy methods as that bastard, but it was true that human had used the cards available in Academy City to fight against the other set of rules found beyond the city walls.
He had to outdo him.
He had to dig deep into that human’s methodology and reach for an option not even that human could choose.
A weak voice came from the machinery.
“Um, sorry. If only you hadn’t had to waste time on me.”
He didn’t need to consider the possibility that she had taken too long recovering Qliphah Puzzle 545.
If he had sent the scientific angel named Kazakiri to attack the enemy, she would only have died in vain. He would have lost another game piece without receiving a report. That was the worst case scenario he had needed to avoid at all costs.
Those two were his greatest secrets, different again from Academy City’s dark side.
The angel and demon were the rook and bishop he could play directly.
But for that very reason, if he played them too readily, the situation on the board could rapidly change and fall apart.
He could not win just by being coldhearted.
He had to be aware of the limited pieces available to him.
Every man and woman here had a purpose.
Nothing on the board was meaningless. If a great enemy had gathered here for their objective, each and every one of them had to contain an unseen cycle. They were all advancing toward their goal. To put it another way, if he knew where those rails were, he could interfere in that to cause it all to come crashing down.
(I thought the key to that was that shitty woman called Anna Sprengel, but I don’t have time to collect her since those idiots spent so long running all over the city.)
“…”
He was up against at least a few dozen of those mysterious Transcendents.
They all served something.
That meant someone who had not yet made an appearance had even greater power than them.
As powerful as his angel and demon were, this was too great a burden for only them.
“We can’t stop it,” said Kazakiri through clenched teeth.
Accelerator again glared intently at the screen in the wall.
The situation was advancing to the next phase.
“We can’t stop it!!”
Think. Do not move at random.
Accelerator was no longer just the #1.
He had given up fighting all alone. He was sick of drenching everything in blood and mud.
He was the top of Academy City – the board chairman. How many game pieces did he have left?
Many containers were lined up in a storage unit lot.
This was where the Bologna Succubus had first used her divination.
But that worldly scenery had been swept away.
Even the siren of doom could not distract their focus.
The siren playing across this entire area meant Academy City had finally detected something was amiss.
But it was too late.
They had purified with water.
They had altered the air with incense.
They had used a magic circle to divide the interior from the exterior.
They had carefully arranged specific items in accordance with the cardinal directions and the constellations.
All of this cut the designated coordinates off from the outside world, turning it into a ceremonial ground.
That was the stage for the performers known as Transcendents.
No matter where they were located, the coordinates calculated out by the Bridge Builders Cabal would be accurate. No matter what the world built here, they had priority. By exciting the land in the proper way, it would reveal its true form as a holy ground.
“We cast our magic here.”
They all spoke together, their voices sounding like a low rumbling of the ceremonial ground as a whole.
The stage was divided such that there were two stages. The inner stage would use the strange karma of their imperfect goodness to intentionally influence the soulless child. The other stage surrounded that one. It would thoroughly eliminate any exterior elements or colorations so they could not corrupt the inner stage.
This ceremony was not directed outwards.
It was more like it compressed everything toward the center.
“Nothing in the world is good or evil – nothing is good or bad. You must not look away from the miracles of the great all-birthing mother. You must accept that essence.”
The ceremony had continued for more than a day and a night.
It had taken a lot of time and effort, but they had continued it like a parade in this trunk room even as they moved from the consulate. And not all of them were present at all times. This time, Mut Thebes and the new Aradia had left early to track down Kamijou Touma. That meant their role had been completed at the start of the ceremony.
“The number of danger is 11. It is the number of imbalance. But that does not make it evil. Evil is naught but a lesson guiding us toward righteousness. How empty the word when used as an excuse for violence and prejudice. The morals and teachings of the outside world are chains that bind freedom and only through breaking free and rising above them can you find the transcendent light. The miracle of life is already present before us, so we need only reach a new understanding by sensing it for ourselves.”
H. T. Trismegistus.
That young butler was the timekeeper managing the Transcendents’ movements down to the second, including who should and shouldn’t be on the stage at any given time. After all, this major performance required more than 30 Transcendents to intricately move in and out. It would never work without someone dedicated to keeping track.
The young butler was a Transcendent who protected the common people.
Specifically, the common people who did not veer too far toward good or evil.
He was not interested in titles like Imagine Breaker or the Magic God’s understander.
Taking action without worrying about the protests of those around you was enough to gain great power. Those people were the ones who set events in motion and left their names in history. But not everyone could make that choice.
There were the evil who couldn’t quite abandon the good.
There were the good who sympathized with the evil.
Those indecisive people were the normal, common ones, but he believed they were the ones who most easily lost their lives in this world. More so than the dangerous criminals who left the humane path without looking back. But that was why H. T. Trismegistus adored them. That common majority was easily shaken and easily swayed but still poured all of their efforts into their everyday lives while fighting the anxiety filling their hearts.
So by protecting the common sense and averages that influenced those people’s actions, the young butler did everything in his power to prevent the unknown masses from heading in a dangerous direction.
Although he had to strongly shake off the sneaking suspicion that Kamijou Touma might be one of those people.
“…”
And in that sense…
(Alice.)
They had begun the ceremony now because of her condition. H. T. Trismegistus silently clenched his teeth while he managed the whole and sent out Vidhathri when the time was right. Good, Old Mary raised a lily flower and flowery Blodeuwedd was blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back with rope, but the star of this enormous ceremony should have been Alice. She stood weakly and perfectly still at a corner of the stage. She was frozen. Almost like a bit part who was only on stage to play a tree or rock. He had trouble even looking at her, but the ceremony would fail without all of the Transcendents taking part.
And Alice’s transformation might not end here. If her condition worsened, it would become difficult to even have her on the stage with them.
What had happened to her?
H. T. Trismegistus had obeyed Alice out of the fear that she was as far from “normal” as could be and had the power to throw the definition of “common” and “average” off a cliff. By carefully observing the actions of someone who was essentially his polar opposite, he had hoped to detect subtle omens of how the world would change.
But now she was only an empty shell standing still except when she swayed in the wind.
He found it hard to believe it had even been possible to damage her.
“…”
A straining sound came from the young butler’s back teeth.
Only the powerless common people were allowed to be swayed like that. Transcendents saved people based on their strict conditions, so they could not waver. Their roles would break down if they did.
Also, a solid object was positioned at the center of the stage.
It contained the seed of life and their external influence would seal the desired soul within. If an inhuman being could be captured and forced to do your bidding, then you could also create one for yourself. This was the ultimate spell created by Aleister Crowley’s arrogance.
It was born of that human’s cold side.
It was a symbol of the complexity that existed alongside the heart that had shed tears for his family.
“Be born and appear before us, life.”
The young butler stepped up onto the stage last of all.
When the timekeeper made his appearance, the ceremony was approaching its end.
He no longer needed to manage everyone else’s appearances.
“With magick, a body less than 90 days from its creation does not yet contain a fixed soul, so that sleeping body, ignorant of gravity, functions as a container for a superhuman being, allowing this child to surpass the limits of humanity. We Transcendents guide our savior here, so be born and appear before us, you miracle carrying your own will! Take a human body, boast in your unique thoughts, shine the light of the sun on reality, and cast your shadow on the earth, our great king!!!”
The glass container shattered from within.
The mass inside was growing.
The size and weight were increasing. No, the terms height and body weight may have been more accurate. First from a microscopic speck to a fetus and then to a mature body. In a span of about 30 seconds, he became a naked young man of about 18 with silver hair and a beard.
Success.
This was CRC.
Christian Rosencreutz.
The Transcendents were about as eccentric as could be, but they were all rendered speechless by his appearance before them. The harsh magic ceremony had continued both day and night, but their exhaustion was instantly forgotten.
This was their savior for the world.
They felt joy at his successful creation, but they also felt deep emotion and surprise that the man spoken of in legend really did exist.
This group had used the incomplete goodness of their fictions and costumes as a weapon.
But even they were able to invite in this one greater miracle.
This was the true essence of magic.
The feat of magic was all about finding a loophole in the proper contract or deal to gain more than the actual item was worth. It was like shorting a stock. Thus, magic may have been a detestable thing to a righteous god.
“At long last we meet, Christian Rosencreutz, our savior.”
H. T. Trismegistus ignored the deafening siren and reverently held out a red robe.
The Bridge Builders Cabal was fundamentally different from the Magic God, so creating clothing was no challenge for them.
“We are the Transcendents of the Bridge Builders Cabal. We have attempted to save the entire world based on each of our search conditions, but common sense shows that we are nothing but failures whose plans are so tightly intertwined none of us can do much of anything. Please lend us your wisdom and strength as a savior, CRC. Please save the many people suffering in this imperfect world.”
“Bzz, zwrrr.”
The response was impossible to make out.
He was not using a strange code or an ancient language. His common tones likely just hadn’t been properly adjusted yet. But that would not last for long.
“Zwrgrklyurr. Ksssh, kwirrrzhh. Hm, is this better?”
When he did speak actual words, it was with a wrinkled old man’s voice that did not match his young appearance.
But other than that mismatch, it was a completely normal voice.
“It is perfect,” said H. T. Trismegistus, bowing reverently.
“Very good.”
CRC donned the provided red robe without even glancing at the young butler.
His tone was that of someone who had prodded their fried egg at breakfast and found the yolk to have firmed up to their satisfaction. In other words, it was an unconcerned assessment. And immediately after that moment of peace…
A flash of light exploded out.
No one even remotely expected this.
Every one of the gathered Transcendents was toppled by the single attack. The only way for so many powerful Transcendents to be knocked helplessly from their feet was for none of them to understand the meaning of this sudden impact. That meant this was fundamentally beyond their comprehension. The very idea of understanding it may have seemed disrespectful to them. This was a secret power. The thick wall radiating out from that man carried so much power and meaning.
H. T. Trismegistus had once torn his own body apart in extreme emotion.
But even he was helpless.
And there had to be Transcendents with a greater specialization in defense than him.
They did not understand what had happened to them. This was a matter of life or death for them, but it had happened so fast they could have entirely missed it if they weren’t paying attention. After it was over, they stared in awe. It was that impressive to them.
They could only say this had influenced the root of their being which they had remade to become Transcendents.
This was more than just brute strength.
It was unknown wisdom. Or to use more common terms, it was a cheat code or a vulnerability.
To those who didn’t understand, it looked like, well, magic.
The being in a young man’s body spoke with a sneer.
“Why should this old man save anyone?”
He spread his arms and spoke loud.
“Why shouldn’t this old man ask for something in return?”
But no one remained to hear his operatic speech.
Because they had all been knocked out.
“Who invented those rules? Did you really think this old man would be bound by them? You are no more than a flock of weaklings hoping to rely on someone stronger than yourselves, so why would you ever think you could restrict this old man’s freedom?”
They had erred.
The legend they had heard had been too good to be true.
Christian Rosencreutz may indeed possess enough power to save the entire world. But that did not mean he would supply that salvation free of charge.
He was no savior.
He was a small-minded person.
He was an individual possessing such great power.
Why had they never considered the possibility that he would ignore all rules and morality, wield his power as he saw fit, and rule the world as the greatest tyrant history had ever seen?
CRC and Miss Sprengel were somehow different. Despite both being Rosicrucian.
This monster’s conflict had much, much deeper roots. And he found enjoyment in a different way from Anna Sprengel who capriciously approached people or pushed them away.
For Christian Rosencreutz, it was found in thorough destruction.
He had no interest in sweetly corrupting – he wanted to find relief through destroying everything.
Although it wasn’t that one was better than the other. It was more like they had different forms of harmful desires.
The siren had been correct. It had accurately warned of a coming threat, but the Transcendents had been too excited to heed it. They had failed to realize what it was they had brought into this world.
“Ahh…”
So when the young butler squeezed out some words, it may have come from his utter disbelief.
His disbelief that CRC – Christian Rosencreutz – still possessed raw humanity.
“I thought common sense dictated…you were meant to bring salvation to all people by healing this sick world, from its philosophies to the structure of its nations.”
“Why should I do that?”
He was not puzzled. His face displayed only cruelty.
It was the twisted opposite of the invented legend of the holy man.
In a way, it was an extreme presentation of his raw humanity.
“Why should this old man make an exception of the humans and save only them? Why should I ever go to the effort? That is not to say I have an aversion to the act of salvation itself. But aren’t you disrespecting my existence as an individual if you demand I unconditionally save all of humanity? And if you wish to take a truly philanthropic view, then you must consider all life on the planet as equally valuable. When you view humanity as just one of many species, it is clearly the most sinful of the bunch. Kah kah kah. Bah!? Philanthropy!? Hwa ha ha ha ha ha!! How much wisdom did you draw on to kill the fearsome tigers and crocodiles for their skins? You say it is wrong to hunt elephants for their ivory, but tell me what humanity has done while this old man has slept!? Humanity has scattered its sin across the face of the planet, humanity has run around attempting to clean up its own mess, and after all is said and done, humanity has criticized its own actions as if that alone is enough to redefine the concepts of good and evil!! What of this species am I meant to protect? What of this species is worth supporting with my actions? The concept of righteousness is no longer worth discussing and the form humanity has taken in its extreme foolishness leaves nothing I consider worth following. If righteousness and goodness had maintained their simple and noble definitions of becoming no one’s slave, none of this would ever have happened. Perhaps the original mistake was when god temporarily left the concept of righteousness in the hands of humanity. Humanity wisely banned the pronunciation of god’s name to avoid using it too readily, yet the concepts of goodness and righteousness are treated with so little respect anyone and everyone speaks of them without a second thought! Hee hee. Although if you follow the tearjerking logic that all life is equally valuable, then you must also consider the invisibly small life forms used to create wine and cheese. Is the current human population 6 billion? 7 billion? Or has it reached 8 billion by now? Whatever the case, all life is not equal. Human arrogance is plain to see from the very fact that they invented the word ‘primate’ to describe their own classification. Have you no shame? Humanity, recall what it was that Adam ate and what it was he learned!! Humanity will not find perfection in this era. So the only way to claim equality with the other forms of life is to regress to the level of apes and return to nature. Even an ape that carelessly touches fire pulls back its hand and never repeats that mistake, meaning they are capable of feeling regret. A feat wholly beyond the abilities of humanity. Or what? Are you going to make me split my sides and laugh myself to death with that absurd claim that the special thought patterns not found in other life forms are just that important? Pff heh heh. I tell you that is a suicidal conclusion that wholly negates your own purpose. Cats and dogs feel familial love, birds and fish communicate with words, and ants and bees have a group society. Hee hee hee. Romance? What life form does not seek out reproduction? In fact, any life form that neglects to reproduce will be left behind by the currents of time. But if you tell me humanity has nothing that cannot be discarded with such shallow thinking, I have no choice but to believe you. …Thus, the conclusion is far too simple: humanity has no purpose. I have considered the issue from every direction, both physical and psychological, but this old man feels no value in working myself to the bone to save mere humans.”
He spoke on and on, but he likely wasn’t all that serious about it. Anyone with a knowledge of higher magic would notice right away.
Yes, wasn’t it said that a true expert did not make longwinded speeches?
This was a failure.
There was only one conclusion: it had all been a complete lie. They had been fools to trust in such a bogus legend.
“Al…ice…Alice.”
After all this, the young butler was fixated not on his own life but on Alice Anotherbible. Unlike the other Transcendents, she alone could not be replaced. Or to be more accurate, the Transcendents had analyzed the already-existing Alice to determine how to overwrite their own humanity. So she alone could not be lost here.
His injuries were not the only reason he could not raise his voice to call out to her. Any careless speech here could direct Christian Rosencreutz’s attention to Alice.
But his efforts were in vain.
For one, that girl was the only one who had not fallen from the earlier attack. She wobbled as unsteadily as an ear of wheat blowing in the wind, but it was still a miracle that she remained standing here.
And.
That inevitably led to the next misfortune and tragedy.
‘Hm.”
She drew Rosencreutz’s attention.
But frozen Alice did not react. She unsteadily viewed the man approaching her, but she did not run or hide.
“No,” groaned H. T. Trismegistus.
He was collapsed on the ground and his face and tailcoat were filthy, but he still crawled and reached his hand out toward the distant girl.
“Noooooo!”
His cry accomplished nothing.
The man took swift action.
He destroyed her.
His arm grabbed the girl’s small face and shattered her entire head.
Something scattered before the young butler’s eyes.
Something colorful but broken.
Altogether, it should have been beautiful, but as individual pieces, it was horrifically grotesque.
“Tah dah!! This is the place!”
She had definitely been a tyrant.
For a Transcendent who guarded ordinary common sense, each of her actions was enough to inspire a cold sweat.
“Yes!! H. T. Trismegistus is amazing. He makes the best tea in the world. He also folds the girl’s clothes and puts her shoes away!”
But the girl herself had been endlessly pure and innocent.
On the inside, she was the normal and common sort of person the young butler had to protect.
Alice was Alice.
Her actions only seemed so unusual because her power was unusually great.
“H. T. Trismegistus! The girl wants to show her teacher around her secret base!”
The girl’s excited voice in the consulate still rang in the Transcendent’s ears.
But he would never hear it again.
The memories crumbled away. They vanished beyond some rapidly growing noise.
She had thrown a tantrum about wanting to go to Academy City, her plan to surprise her teacher had transformed into a consulate, and she had rehearsed her lines over and over with the young butler.
But now all of that was no more than some inanimate pieces scattered across the ground.
“Ohh, that sounds like fun. Then should the girl share her power with the winner? You’re the best, H. T. Trismegistus!”
Alice Anotherbible.
Never again would he see her overly normal and ordinary smile.
Never again.
Never, ever again!!!
“I do not want the strongest power.”
There was no scream.
Alice Anotherbible did not react even as her skull was shattered. The rest of her remained upright, her small limbs dangling down.
The scattered blonde hair, the skull shards looking so much like egg shells, and the few remnants of her face still showing an incomplete picture of her adorable features.
After a short delay, the small girl finally collapsed backwards. A dark red liquid belatedly puddled on the ground.
But that was all.
With his hope dashed before his eyes, H. T. Trismegistus collapsed fully to the ground once more.
The young butler forgot to even feel anger.
One of the world’s bright lights had just been snuffed out.
“I do not need the unexpected.”
CRC.
Christian Rosencreutz.
The legends said that young man would save the world for nothing in return, but he instead gave a careless swing of his arm and stared hatefully at the sticky red that remained on his fingers and palm.
Even though no one had asked this of him and he had done it on his own.
The Bologna Succubus and Good, Old Mary could not move any more than the young butler.
Almost like he had announced that every last one of the Transcendents had already served their purpose in creating him in this day and age.
“This old man will simply do what he likes. I will tolerate no interference and I will actively hunt down anyone with even the slightest possibility of doing so.”
With that, he slowly turned around.
The light shining in the frigid darkness was not silver – it was gold.
Surrounded by the eerie siren, Aleister Crowley’s hair blew in the night breeze.
“I see what you mean,” he spat.
He could tell.
Because he too stood on the side of evil.
Aleister and Kingsford had no idea if they could survive this fight.
But if those two extraordinary magicians fell, how much ferocity would this man turn toward Academy City or that boy on a whim?
So Aleister would crush him.
He would thoroughly defeat him no matter what it took.
“Anna Kingsford. You were right. This is undoubtedly his enemy and we cannot ignore him.”
“Aleister, should I prepare the AAA?” asked Kihara Noukan. “The distortion known as magic is a tragedy found in the gaps left by science. If you would eliminate it, I am willing to again act as your pawn.”
This had to be the reason behind Anna Sprengel’s scheming.
It had all been leading to this.
There was the incident Anna herself caused, R&C Occultics had fallen, and then she had interfered with the Bridge Builders Cabal full of Transcendents. All of it had been in opposition to this very outcome.
She had definitely been wicked to begin with. She had enjoyed indulging in that wickedness during each of those incidents. But this was still at the root of it all.
Miss Sprengel was, after all, a high-ranking member of the Rosicrucian magic cabal.
How could she stand idly by when she learned that a group was working to locate her cabal’s founder’s grave and then use him for their own purposes?
And what if she were secretly aware of Christian Rosencreutz’s true nature which contradicted the commonly known image of the holy man?
He was just another human.
He could not be allowed to go free.
He was an archenemy who all living things should be deeply grateful does not live in the same age as them.
To an outside observer, Anna might not seem much better.
But there was no hesitation in CRC’s actions. While Anna Sprengel walked the world as she saw fit and corrupted only the things she took a liking or disliking to, Christian Rosencreutz would not be satisfied until he had returned the entire world to a blank slate. He would not tolerate even a single spot of color remaining in the world.
He did not act on a whim. He would not stop until he had destroyed everything. He would set fire to the entire mountain as casually as someone else would weed their garden.
Aleister knew people like that.
The “righteousness” that had oppressed him for so long had always come from people like this.
These monsters never gave anything much thought, never created a better future, and always poured a terrifying amount of passion into eliminating anyone who opposed them.
“I know your type. You do not fight for a purpose. You do not even feel hatred. You simply love the action of destruction itself.”
“This is only the human world. Do you even need some grand purpose to crush it underfoot?”
“Mathers and Westcott were corrupted by desire, but even they were better than you.”
“Hee hee. Do not compare this old man to those others, girl.”
It had only been natural for that wicked woman to try and stop this at all costs. And without telling anyone. Even if she had always made the choices born from Anna Sprengel’s wicked nature.
Meanwhile, CRC tilted his head.
It was the look of a man who had been witnessed committing a murder and was now offended to be seen as a bad person.
“You would fight me? With your feeble skills?”
Then he smiled a little.
The smile split wickedly across his face.
“You people are…how would I describe it? The descendants of Western mysticism and a cabal variant claiming to be the Golden? But I can already see how this ends. Your mere child’s play cannot defeat this old man.”
That was true.
At first glance, the Rosicrucian and the Golden seemed like wholly different types of magic cabal, but they were linked deep down. Or rather, the Golden cabal’s initial 0=0 ceremonies drew strongly on Egyptian mythology and the members would then go on to learn tarot and tattva. Once a member reached the 5=6 level, the Rosicrucian name began to appear unhidden in the ceremonies. How did it end up like that? All three of the founding members, including Westcott and Mathers, were magicians with a Rosicrucian foundation. So by baring his fangs against Christian Rosencreutz, Aleister was threatening his founder’s founder’s founder.
The same was true of Kingsford who was Mathers and Westcott’s teacher and was said to have laid the groundwork for the Golden cabal’s creation. She had had her own cabal, but she originally belonged to the Theosophical Society, a gathering of Kabbalah experts, psychics, and Rosicrucians. Thus, their magic techniques and ideology had their roots in the rosy cross – in Christian Rosencreutz.
Of course, Anna Kingsford was a legend in her own right.
And in a way, she was a superior legend since she had been a “living person” whose path in life could be traced in newspaper articles and academic theses published in the 1800s. But in another way, Christian Rosencreutz’s legend was deeper. Much deeper. Much, much deeper. Nothing about his reality could be confirmed from the official histories. He reigned supreme in a different, more unusual way.
Plus, he was the man who had easily killed the Alice Anotherbible.
The legend of Rosencreutz had to be more solid than the legends of Aleister or Kingsford.
What would happen if they thoughtlessly attacked him head on?
But Anna Kingsford was still the one who took a step forward.
“How disappointing.”
“You are disappointed in this old man?”
“❌,” said the great goddess of knowledge, head lowered.
The brim of her large hat hid her face from view. But her voice was terrifying enough for even the deafening siren to seemingly take a step back.
“That I did nothing but 👁️ as that girl was 💀ed. If I had arrived just three seconds sooner, this would ❌ have happened.”
Her voice was low.
The weight behind it grew endlessly.
“And that Miss Sprengel’s efforts amounted to nothing. She could only view the 🌍 through her ideas of good and wicked, but she still poured all of her efforts into preventing this catastrophe from being released upon the 🌍. Your very existence has trampled her determination under🦶.”
“Silence, preserved doll. Illusionists are meant to remain silent. That is all we magicians are: wielders of substanceless illusions. Opening your mouth serves only to break the illusion.”
That was the extent of their conversation.
Kingsford silently raised her head and glared at Rosencreutz through her glasses.
To serve those around you.
She muttered someone’s forgotten ideal under her breath.
But on the other hand, that was all she said. A true expert did not give longwinded speeches. They did not self-aggrandize or defend their actions. They could overwhelm others with their simple presence, so they failed to see the benefit of such performances.
In that sense, they were the exact opposite of the Transcendents, the performers who had swept across the world.
The same was true of Anna Kingsford and Christian Rosencreutz.
They existed on the same field.
They both took another step forward.
This was not a large action.
But the frigid winter wind dropped further in temperature.
This was a critical point for the current world.
Something ignited between them.
Even the roar of the siren was noticeably warped.
The two legends wordlessly clashed.
