Chapter 68 - The Sleepwalker VI

8

WEEEEEEEE!

The area once known as the Gimhae Plain.

When the urban development boom hit, it ended up resembling a block of cheese from Tom and Jerry. Gouged out here, hollowed out there. As it was eaten away on every side, the area that could properly be called a plain shrank.

Put another way, once urban development stopped, everything reverted to its original state.

Nature and civilization, the environment and humanity, had spent the past 10,000 years staking their respective fates on a war of mutual annihilation. When the balance tipped back toward nature, the Gimhae Plain rapidly reclaimed its former glory.

Of course, nature had to hand over a considerable portion of its territory to the anomalies that had joined the war as mercenaries, as payment for victory. Thanks to that, it became hard to tell whether this was really nature or the void. The way natural history played out was not so different from the sorry mess of human history.

Even among such places, the Gimhae Plain belonged to the regions where civilization had been removed swiftly—perhaps too swiftly.

WEEEEEEEEEE!

About seven years ago, an air-raid warning had suddenly been issued in the western Gimhae Plain, followed by a small-scale “bombing.”

There was no way to know exactly how or why the incident had happened here. It had occurred at the very moment I was forcibly summoned to Busan Station and began my life as a regressor.

Had I not been a regressor, even learning that a bombing had taken place nearby would have been difficult. Some witnesses said it was artillery fire, not a bombing. There were rumors that a gate had suddenly erupted, and wild stories that a secret government research facility had exploded.

A complete mystery.

KABOOOOOM!

Perhaps a small gate had appeared on the Gimhae Plain, and the bombing had been carried out to destroy it.

Perhaps, with Seoul already devastated, someone had decided they could not afford to lose Busan too—a decision that, in their own eyes, would save the nation.

Perhaps they had thought, “This much sacrifice is unavoidable,” because fewer people lived there than in other densely populated urban areas.

Perhaps it had simply been a tragedy caused by an error in relaying orders. Surprisingly enough, I consider that the likeliest possibility.

But there is no digging up the truth now. What can you do when both the government and the civilian organizations that should investigate have disappeared? All the more so when even finding documents or witnesses related to the incident is a distant prospect.

Nature was not the only thing swallowed by the void. Human history, too, vanished into it.

Even so, one thing is self-evident: there is no chance that the bombed Gimhae Plain was nothing but a “plain,” an empty expanse true to its name.

Even where the means of proving it had vanished, people had lived.

9

Let us talk about the aftermath.

["—Mr. Undertaker."]

["Wake up, Mr. Undertaker."]

I blinked my eyes open.

As I opened them, I realized I had briefly lost consciousness. A momentary blackout. Fortunately, I had passed out countless times in my life as a regressor. Something I had grown used to long ago was no reason for fresh alarm.

["Are you awake?"]

If I had to guess why I had passed out, Meteor Strike's lullaby had probably closed my eyes without my realizing it.

Unlike the other awakened, I had been flying at the very front. In short, I had been farthest from Dang Seorin's white magic—the Anti-Resonance song that nullified the lullaby.

"Yes, I'm all right. You needn't worry, Saintess. How long was I unconscious?"

["Not long. About a second."]

"You noticed I had passed out in just one second? That's impressive."

I was genuinely amazed. As I mentioned earlier, I did not know at the time that the Saintess possessed Time Stop.

During a battle this important, she periodically stopped time to observe the battlefield. Her Clairvoyance must have caught me briefly slumping on my broom.

["We have a problem, Mr. Undertaker."]

The Saintess deftly changed the subject. It was not merely to avoid arousing my suspicions; there was genuine urgency in her voice.

A chill ran down my spine. Even without Dang Seorin's magic, people resonated emotionally with the voices of others.

"Impossible! Don't tell me we failed to kill Meteor Strike!"

["No. It is almost certain that we succeeded in killing it. But... look over there."]

Though it was unclear where the Saintess meant by “over there,” I instinctively turned my head.

Toward the night sky where Meteor Strike's starlight had existed just moments ago.

The strike seven hundred awakened had spent years preparing had been sharp indeed. Meteor Strike had been torn to shreds by the storm of aura we created.

Yes.

Torn to shreds.

"What...?"

My heart pounded.

Meteor Strike had certainly been slain. The sphere that had clustered together and radiated powerful starlight no longer existed.

And while some anomalies dispersed like smoke upon being slain, plenty left corpses behind, just like animals.

I murmured in a daze.

"A corpse of starlight...?"

Have you ever seen white phosphorus munitions?

A scene exactly like that was unfolding before my eyes—no, before our eyes.

Shredded starlight.

Starlight reduced to ragged remains was falling toward the ground.

"Ah."

The shudder rising along my spine pierced my heart, roiling with dread.

Why? Why hadn't I anticipated it?

If a meteorite was falling from the sky, intercepting and destroying it was one problem—but even if we succeeded, the countless fragments falling to earth would be another.

"Fuck!"

Of course, it was because I had never imagined that an anomaly made of one hundred percent pure starlight—not an orc or a goblin—would leave a corpse. A corpse of light? Who could predict that shit?

So this, too, was one of those unfair screwovers where, if you didn't know, you just had to take it. Goddammit.

You could call it the final giant middle finger Meteor Strike had saved for humanity after being smashed in the opening exchange by a regressor's surprise attack.

In the forty-second run, when we succeeded in killing Meteor Strike for the very first time, we had no choice but to fall for this trap card.

"It's over! It's over! We actually hunted down a special-class anomaly!"

"Long live the Korean Peninsula Awakened General Federation! Long live!"

"Holy shit... This is the world's first special-class anomaly kill. Humans could really... really do this...?"

"The constellations are invincible! Undertaker is a god!"

Looking around, I saw no combatants on this aerial battlefield paying attention to Meteor Strike's corpse.

Everyone was simply thrilled to have won an overwhelming victory in a great battle that would go down in history.

Only the Saintess and I were watching the strange roiling of the night sky, the fragments of starlight that had begun falling through that sky.

'If those fragments hit the ground—no, no. It's all right. Even if all of South Gyeongsang Province becomes a realm of ash, it won't be the worst-case scenario.'

I was not the sort of regressor who believed in himself. That kind of self-assurance was a luxury reserved for regressors born with diamond spoons in their mouths, who saved the world after a mere two or three regressions.

Naturally, I had considered the possibility that my operation would fail and evacuated as many residents as possible throughout South Gyeongsang Province.

"All the infrastructure will be destroyed, but..."

We could bear it. After all, wasn't the true infrastructure of this age its awakened, rather than capital or material things?

As I swallowed the bitterness rising in my mouth, the Saintess spoke in a slightly more urgent voice than before.

["... Mr. Undertaker. The starlight is spreading farther and farther."]

"What?"

I immediately leaned out and looked below.

The starlight was indeed actively objecting to the very concept of vertical descent. It was thoroughly anti-intellectual behavior, befitting anomalies that questioned the laws of physics whenever they got bored.

["It isn't only falling over Busan. Its projected reach will easily extend beyond the entire Korean Peninsula."]

"Seriously? What kind of insane bullshit is this?"

My forty-second-run self muttered that without thinking, but strictly speaking, it was hard to call it bullshit.

As I have already described, if left alone, Meteor Strike bombards the entire world over seven long years. Hawaii, Ingria, China, France, and so on.

In other words... this thing was not some hot-blooded anomaly that poured out all its power on its very first appearance. It was more of a sly bastard hiding its true strength. The same type as Udumbara, the World Tree.

And since we had stabbed that strength-hiding bastard straight through the belly in one blow, the consequences of the power it had kept concealed inevitably came spilling out.

The conclusion was simple.

Even in death, Meteor Strike could readily destroy something the size of the Korean Peninsula with nothing but pieces of its corpse.

'What should I do?'

Countless thoughts crossed one another.

'Abandon the Korean Peninsula?' 'The seven hundred awakened are unharmed. Enough to abandon our main base and set up an expansion.' 'But what about the nine hundred noncombatants supporting us on the ground?' 'Will they die?' *'Dang Seorin is still fine, isn't she?' 'And the Saintess?' 'Will the Awakened Federation remain this tightly united after faith in the constellations collapses? After the last ethical safeguard is removed?' 'A realm of ash.'*

The starlight fell slowly.

My judgments accelerated.

'Abandon this run.' 'But I must obtain as much information as possible.' *'Do Meteor Strike's remains also turn the ground into a realm of ash? Will they simply disappear silently after falling? Or will they remain as a mystery that provides light forever, never disappearing?' 'Even if I die, I will struggle until the moment I do.'*

["Mr. Undertaker."]

A voice echoed quietly inside my head.

["Mr. Undertaker, your orders. Quickly."]

The mastermind behind the constellations that issued orders to every awakened was waiting for instructions from me, a regressor.

I took out my radio.

"All forces! The battle is not over!"

All eyes turned toward me.

"Everyone, look below! Meteor Strike's corpse is falling in hundreds, thousands of torn pieces! We assess it to be a type whose corpse persists after being slain, rather than disappearing!"

The awakened murmured. Every one of them was a capable elite, but it would take five or ten minutes for those murmurs to converge into clear judgment and be forged into precise action.

A commander was someone who shortened that process to a few dozen seconds.

"According to the constellations' information, Meteor Strike turns the surrounding area to ash the instant it touches the ground! And according to reports from the Saintess of National Salvation and observers on the ground, its remains are falling across the entire Korean Peninsula!"

"What?"

"Oh, fuck..."

Curses erupted everywhere. But at the same time, something remarkable happened.

The awakened's murmuring subsided, and silence settled in.

I knew this was the crucial moment. Without the slightest wavering, I had to convey the certainty that their commander had reached a judgment based on accurate information.

'Saintess.'

I had given her no instructions beforehand.

[The 'Saintess of National Salvation' issues an emergency quest!]

Yet at that very moment, as if responding to my innermost thoughts, she displayed a message before every awakened's eyes.

――――――――――

[Remnants of the Destroyed Meteorite]

You have become the first in the world to successfully slay the Continent-class anomaly 'Meteor Strike.'

However, it is too early to celebrate. Meteor Strike's corpse is falling.

Stop the Meteor Carnival.

May fortune favor you in battle.

-Reward: Survival

-Failure: Destruction of the Korean Peninsula

――――――――――

The timing was perfect.

With no information to guide them and their judgment lost in a fog, the awakened had no choice but to accept the constellation's testimony as fact.

I shouted.

"We stop it!"

The night sky rippled.

"Nine hundred noncombatants still remain on the ground! As long as they remain, the Korean Peninsula isn't finished! Here, we entrust the future to the noncombatants and fight without fear of death!"

Every awakened was looking at me. For a moment, I saw black powder ignite in their pupils.

"Squads One through Twelve! All combatants will follow their team leaders' orders! Do not permit even a single fragment of the anomaly's corpse to fall upon our land!"

["Yes!"]

["Understood, Undertaker!"]

The radio crackled with the team leaders' voices.

"Move out! All forces, move out! I'll lead the way!"

"Waaaaaah!"

The seven hundred combatants clustered in a cone-shaped formation scattered in an instant, like fighter jets taking off from an aircraft carrier.

The difference was that we were descending, not ascending.

"Aaaaaah—ah—aah—"

Dang Seorin, at the very rear, did not miss her moment either. This, too, had been neither planned nor expected, but she reacted swiftly.

Seventh Melody: Haste.

Our brooms accelerated at once. We quickly caught up with Meteor Strike's remains, which had begun falling first.

"Aaaah—"

Dang Seorin's magic blazed brightly by burning her own lifespan. That was why she normally had to stop at the Fourth Melody, and even in truly critical moments, she must not sing the Sixth Melody or higher.

The Seventh Melody. That was the boundary where she stepped into the realm of death.

At the speed purchased by the evaporation of her life, I charged into the line of death.

"Ghk!"

I closed in on a piece of the corpse torn from Meteor Strike and swung my sword. I had destroyed only one fragment, yet agony wracked my entire body.

Of course it did. Only two minutes ago, I had squeezed out every scrap of aura and all my strength to deliver that final blow.

My remaining aura was already exhausted. Unable to withstand the output, my right hand had lost all its skin, leaving the muscles starkly exposed.

I needed more than immediate hospitalization, yet I was still fighting. It was practically suicide.

I had barely scraped together enough aura to coat the blade, yet part of it turned to ash where it touched Meteor Strike's corpse.

Still, without resting, I charged straight toward the next fragment.

I was not the only moth flying into the flame.

["Aaaaaagh!"]

["Eleven o'clock! Another squad cover eleven o'clock! This bastard's spreading farther and farther! We have to destroy it before it spreads!"]

["Squad Twelve, wiped out."]

["Die! Die, die! Just die!"]

["Great Witch, thank you for everything! I love you! Long live Three Thousand Worlds!"]

["Squad Ten, two o'clock clear."]

I will not claim that all seven hundred disregarded their lives.

There were certainly combatants who held back, pretending to participate while saving themselves. Perhaps some awakened had even swiftly decided to improve their guilds' standing on a ruined Korean Peninsula.

But at least for now, my pen exists to describe people other than them.

["Three o'clock clear. Squad Ten, decimated. Six remaining. Moving to four o'clock."]

["Squad Seven has been wiped out. But eleven o'clock is clear. Joining ten o'clock now... Ah. Found one remaining fragment. Unable to join."]

["I'll go on ahead, Boss Undertaker. I haven't forgotten what happened in Sejong. I've always been grateful."]

["Squad Four, wiped out."]

Stars fell.

Burning the last vital energy in their bodies, embracing the remnants of starlight as their entire bodies scattered into ash.

And the night sky was coming to an end. The waves of darkness Meteor Strike had spread were gradually thinning from the sky's edges.

Beneath that fading night sky, alongside countless particles of ash, one by one, ownerless brooms were sinking without a sound.

["Undertaker."]

["Boss Undertaker!"]

["Mr. Undertaker—"]

Falling. Falling.

An endless fall of blossoms.

How much time and noise had passed?

"Undertaker!"

A blink.

When I opened my eyes, I was falling. An immense roar of wind battered my ears.

Losing consciousness on a hellish battlefield was not strange at all, but this time there was something very strange about it. Three things, in fact.

First, the world was upside down. Being so high in the air, I had not immediately realized it, but I was falling. My broom was nowhere to be seen. This run's cause of death would probably be a fall.

Second, Dang Seorin was right before my eyes.

Simply saying she was before my eyes was not enough. The pointed hat she always wore so lovingly was gone, and she, too, was falling from the sky like me.

And at some point, she had wrapped her arms around me.

"Dang Seorin?"

I forced my lips apart. In my mouth, I could smell blood, lead, iron, and ash mingling together.

Despite a powerful certainty that this was real, everything somehow felt like a dream. Like a sleepwalker unsure whether he wanted to keep dreaming this dream.

"How is the battle... going now?"

Dang Seorin smiled radiantly. We were falling, and death would surely await us at the end of that fall.

Was this a dream after all?

Dang Seorin's smile came a little closer. Closer, and closer still.

Eventually, I felt her smile not through sight, but through its contours.

That was the third and final strange thing.

"I—love humanity!"

Her face smeared with blood, sweat, and ash, Dang Seorin smiled radiantly once more.

"What did you just..."

"I dislike people. They're irritating. Honestly, I can't stand crowds. I'm so tired of people fawning over me, trying to flatter me however they can."

FLUTTER!

The wind repeatedly battered our skin. Buffeted by the currents of the sky, Dang Seorin tightened her arms around my waist.

"I hate this, I hate that. I hated it before the world ended, and I've kept hating it since. But, even so. Humans are incredible!"

"..."

"No one will remember, yes. No records will remain. But we just saved the world! Didn't we, Undertaker?"

"..."

"And—I hope you won't hate people too much, either."

"..."

Wind.

"I'm not the sort of person who asks those things. Ah, I should have asked. Why you keep making that face. Where you lived before, and what you did. Why you like café au lait. Why your eyes are sad. I should have asked you so many things. I could have."

Waves.

"Do you dislike me, Undertaker?"

"No."

An immediate answer.

"I don't... Never."

"Yes."

A smile.

My dream. My illness. The reason for my sleepwalking, the reason I decided to dream of living.

"I knew. So, just as much as you like me. Just that much. Please love humanity a little more."

And.

Sunset.

The night sky fades.

The sunset spreads.

When Meteor Strike unfurled its night sky, the world's sunset had only just begun. Our battle had taken place in the span of a single evening's sunset, from beginning to end.

And so, when Meteor Strike was slain and we fell, the sunset was still in full bloom across the world.

"Ah."

Not a sunset swallowed by the night sky.

A sunset unfolding as it pushed the night sky aside.

A reversed sunset that could occur only once in this world, on this earth.

"Ah..."

Red stretching to the eternal horizon.

"A truly, truly—beautiful sky—"

10

Let us end the aftermath here.

From the forty-third run onward, I made sure to prepare countermeasures for the remains as well, allowing the seven hundred awakened to return safely to the ground.

There were still many stories I could share about Meteor Strike. Speculation on where and how it had originated. Experiments to see whether its starlight could be captured and used.

Even so, today's episode must end here.

Because the sunset that day was far too red, and humans were simply beings that flew toward a horizon where the sun set eternally.

Boss Battle.

Anomaly: Meteor Strike.

Aliases: Meteor Strike, Armageddon, Fear of the Sky Falling, Nuclear Launch, Milky Way

Threat Level: Lv.3 Continent

Patterns: Phase One, Appearance; Phase Two, Descent; Phase Three, Area-Wide Sleep; Phase Four, Impact.

Killed in action: impossible to estimate. Missing: impossible to estimate.

Numerous recorded destructions of the world.

Subjugation complete.

- The Sleepwalker. End.