rogue_3

She continues to look out the window. Where once there was but a desolate, snow-bound frontier, there was now a settlement grand enough for a landship to dock at.

The megastructure had been propped up from the snow, and every ruin restored to usability. Kal'tsit absent-mindedly ponders the shadows of the past, when suddenly she felt that perhaps she ought not to interfere in Terra's development too much.

Over endless years, Terra had changed radically, and she herself was no longer the Kal'tsit she was at the beginning of all this.

And thus, three days later, explorers found those all-important storage units tucked away in a corner of the ruins.

One lightfooted leap.

The maroon-clad Messenger ascends through the dense forest, stopping midair before gradually speeding up as she falls, as if she were an unruly ball being bounced about by playing children.

Her sightline is once again level with where it was a moment ago, but her feet leave no trace on the pure white snow.

Following the influx of tourists into Sami, the number of arriving researchers grew along with the amount of Messenger work. Though the work here was very different from how it was in the south. In Sami, they had to adapt to the lack of modern communication and navigation, instead turning to the divinations of Snowpriests and the guidance of nature itself.

Angelina did her best to learn these ways, and was such a fast learner that her Samifjod teacher would proudly boast about her. Friends and colleagues alike would tell her that no Siracusan knew Sami better than her as they asked for her help. Naturally, she always accepted their requests, but at the same time would patiently explain that she couldn't possibly be the best person from a talented country like Siracusa, and that she still has a lot to learn.

But when it came time for her to do her work, it really did seem like Sami itself wanted to speak to her. Shockingly, she too could see and interpret the secret codes once privy to only the Snowpriests. At first, her friends in Sami were amazed, but as time went on they'd say: 'I don't really get it, but hey, it's Angelina. Makes sense.'

Furthermore, she could leap higher than the clan trees, and see as far as a soaring fowlbeast. She'd be able to help out with Sami's many problems, they'd say.

Angelina recalls their words. On the one hand, she thinks 'maybe I really can?' But on the other, just thinking that makes her cringe with embarrassment.

But this was no time for thoughts like that. She holds her staff tight and dashes forward, facing the direction that she espied from the air.

Faster and faster, her silhouette flits through the dense woods, as though the trees themselves didn't exist. The snowy ground feels the touch of her feet, but she doesn't disturb a single snowflake.

Cross mount and stream, snows thus traversed; fate's choice fixed in stone.

Cry mournful lay, cold heavens shake; from lone trunk does forest bloom.

The codes for 'Arrival' and 'Plea.' This was the information that Sami had passed on to her. In the blink of an eye, she sees the black tracks pacing back and forth across the dark green, and the panicking crowd of people.

At precisely this moment, a plan of action flashes through her mind. She doesn't have the luxury of pondering where this thought came from.

The Enemy. It exists in all directions across space and time. And thus, it is not shackled to time, unbound by causality. Its state of nonexistence can become existence, but can just as easily return.

—I can do it!

And thus, in the instant she activates her Originium Arts, with no expenditure of energy, with no movement of matter, with no passage of time—

The Enemy simply blinks out of existence, as though it were never there.

—Not long after, in the south, in a corner of the intercity net closed off from prying eyes.

Situation report:

Joint exploration team 6-67 has returned from the area codenamed Sjafyrir Hringrinn. The return trip was rough, with exhausted supplies and repeated Collapsal attacks. Luckily, there was a Siracusan Hall of Messengers employee operating locally who was able to assist in neutralizing the attacks, saving the team from a loss of personnel. We should consider thanking and commending her.

Situation report (encrypted):

Subject 6-67C has been retrieved, confirmed unaffected by Collapse. Upon comparison, confirmed that it vibrates in unison with sample 1-14A. We can infer that 6-67C and its analogs can reliably induce the Clooney-Kaminski effect using modern technology. Hypothesis A-A is tenable. Hypothesis A-A is tenable. Hypothesis A-A is tenable.

Furthermore, the aforementioned Siracusan Hall of Messengers employee used extremely unique Arts. Please advise on whether to investigate.

Reply:

This is an important matter. Let Component Control handle it.

Sami was in good spirits.

Recently, whenever she leapt into the skies of this snowy nation, Angelina had that thought.

The trees grew back their leaves, animals were out and about more frequently, and the various tribespeople greeted her warmly more often.

As for the pitch-black Collapse monsters—the Enemy—it appears that their numbers had dwindled away.

Rationally speaking, Angelina knew that most of the credit went to the Black Hole Protocol. In the furthest reaches of the north, what might be the largest megascale engineering project in all of Terran history rapidly expanded under the framework of multinational cooperation.

Considering all that, it's only natural that Sami felt better than ever!

Perhaps she could compare it to her hometown in Siracusa, or the other countries to the south... As little changes accumulated bit by bit, everything seemed to slowly get better and better.

When the Doctor gave Angelina the letter, saying that it was an 'official communication of national import,' it shocked her half to death, so much so that she forgot to actually take it.

At least, until the Doctor mentioned the name of the receiver. Only then did she manage to compose herself and accept the mission.

That embarrassing panic, along with how she nearly misspoke when leaving afterwards, were moments she wished she could hide deep in her heart.

Angelina dropped lightly back down to the ground and composed her thoughts, a sincere smile showing on her face as she handed that all-important document over to a Snowpriest— Ah, but it should be mentioned that she was no longer a mere Snowpriest, but a core member of the Snowpriest Council.

The Snowpriest was in no hurry to open the letter, instead stashing it away in a pocket before giving her friend that she hadn't seen in a very long time a big hug, just like how that same friend had taught her back then.

'Despite the polite formalities of the letter, I could feel the sincerity behind its words.

'The icefield is gradually melting, and Sami's trees have been invited to return and take root.

'As the sender acknowledges, they require the aid of the Samifjod, but she is glad to see us return to our native lands as well.'

'Huh? You already read the whole thing? Wait, ah, no, you don't need to tell a Messenger what's in the letter. Or... can you? Is it really okay?'

'Of course it is. You're my friend, Angie, and nothing was written that needs to be kept secret.

'Moreover... I have to reply, you see. That is to say, I can read your script well enough, but writing it is still a different story...'

'Ah! Just a sec! I'll go grab a pen and some paper!'

Once more she awakens, and Angelina feels the wind brushing against her cheek. A visible, silken wind.

Above her head sprawls a familiar yet unfamiliar galaxy in all its magnificence. Was it this brilliant light that was illuminating the breeze, and gave it its color?

No, it couldn't be, she suddenly realized. Whether like light reflecting off the wind, or like light emanating from a river of stars, they were but traces of the movement of dust.

Time and space became material, appearing before her.

This was Sami's hint.

Just like what was written in the reply letter, Sami wanted to take those who wished to depart alongside It. It had merely waited until Angelina had delivered the letter before It conveyed this hint to her.

As for how to decipher it, she must look to herself for the answer.

And the moment the thought 'I can do it' formed in her mind, with no expenditure of energy, with no movement of matter, with no passage of time—

She awoke in her bed, this time for real.

'Where are you guys going?'

'We must accompany the All-Father, for He will choose the path ahead for us.'

To ask that you refuse another in my stead is rather embarrassing, said the Snowpriest.

'So... can I still see you all later?'

'But of course. The All-Father calls Terra home too, after all.'

Far lies the sound, sight flung in distance; unknowns yet unknown.

Stores flush with hunger-guard, slaked is your thirst; naught more need ask.

'Alright! Let's have a look... There's a rift valley here, but it doesn't seem too wide, so if we're going to build a bridge...'

The engineer takes the photograph Angelina is holding and offers her his rather rushed analysis. She gives him a big thumbs up, and with one deft leap returns to the skies, evoking gasps of wonder from onlookers—no matter how many times one sees it, it never fails to feel like some sort of wondrous magic.

'The road can finally open for business, and it's all thanks to your help.' The engineers often said this sort of thing while vigorously shaking her hand.

The supply routes towards the megastructure could not always avoid the pits in the ground left by the Feranmut Sami in the wake of Its departure—hardly half a month had passed since It made Its decision.

But how long is it going to take to survey all this rugged new terrain anyway?

Angelina mentioned this particular concern of the people during her latest delivery to the Doctor.

I can do it, the girl thought, volunteering herself towards this goal.

But when it comes time for the megastructure to start up, Angelina is nowhere to be found. Instead, she soars through the skies above a nameless marsh in western Siracusa.

Here, too, there were no roads, but passing through directly instead of circling around would save an incredible amount of time. Drone transmission signals were unable to cross such a long distance, so it was a route only Angelina could traverse.

She leaps further and further. It should be possible to cross the marsh without getting the letters dirty, right? The thought randomly came to mind one day, after a great many jumps already made in the course of her regular crossings. And after thinking it, she put it into practice.

You know, this might be something that only I can do, she thinks, rather pleased with herself. But obviously she couldn't let it get to her head and make her complacent.

The latest milestone of the Black Hole Protocol project might have gotten everyone in the land talking, and sure, it might be a big deal, but people still needed to live their lives in the meantime, and so a Messenger's work was never done.

One could even say that ever since the project launched, people needed to communicate more than ever before, to the point that calling the work 'unending' might be an understatement.

But this is great, thinks Angelina. She was the quickest of her colleagues, and so also the busiest. She didn't get many chances to visit home anymore, yet she didn't complain.

Whether today or tomorrow, there will always be researchers at the foot of the megastructure trying to probe it for answers, 24-7.

As for the places with no view of the megastructure, whether under bright sunlight or starry sky, one could always spot a Messenger or two.

Take a forgotten conversation from long, long ago. Perhaps it happened, perhaps not:

'Phew. The experiment on Star Four was a success, hah.'

'Wow! You mean the one involving T-symmetry in the kinetic energy of the smallest particle?'

'That's the one. Since it's effective on a celestial body with Star Four's mass, they're thinking of applying that tech to the rest of the stellar system.'

'Dang. Feels almost unreal, you know?'

'I can't help but think we live in good times.'

'Do you think there's more hope now?'

'More than ever, I'd say. If we can use it to precisely adjust a planet's rotational and orbital period, then the two gates we've built won't keep deviating from their destinations.'

'Sounds good to me.'

'I used to think that we only got a short time to live our life, and that when it's done it's done.

'Now, there's still hope, but we're going to need to do our best for the sake of our descendants.'

'Though, I've thought of something, y'see. That experimental device, it can only receive external commands, right? If you were going to put the T-symmetry effect to practical use, isn't using it only for curvature manipulation a little rigid? Like when that engine was being designed. Because the interior of the conveyance cannot actually influence its exterior, we had to design waygates—'

'What are you trying to say?'

'I'm saying that, if one day this effect could be implemented with only human will—'

'You sure you're not talking about some holodrama superhero?'

'It's an analogy! Just picture it, okay?'

'...You're right. Now might be a good time to work our imaginations.'

A 'hero' does not usually know their fate. And so, they suffer the forge of destiny and are reborn from their ordinary life. Only then can a brighter, more brilliant spark burst forth from within.

But the stars in the sky know. They know that one day there will be a star fit to be called 'hero.'