Author's Preface
“Let’s go, Derrick.”
“R-Right!”
I dashed forward, cleaving through the air with a sweeping arc, yet something, or rather, someone entered the scene, parting the angelic beings like the shepherd atop the mountain. The angels lowered their heads and gave their knees, as though their king had made his presence known.
A tall, lanky man with tanned skin and a severely receding hairline. He wore a strange, blue, eccentric Hawaiian shirt while carrying a "lazy," no, a "slovenly" expression. Everything about the man seemed self-absorbed, sleezy, and utterly unprofessional.
This was the man who ruled Urr - Skadhi Bhattacharya!
He raised his hand, signaling a ceasefire. “Now now, settle down there, human! I thought belligerent violence wasn’t your style?”
“A leader who reveals himself before his enemy? There's something almost admirable about that, if it weren’t someone so unpleasant.”
“Ah, don’t be like that!”
“—!”
It was a blink, a fraction of a second, before Skadhi had vanished from sight.
Tap.
He hung his arms around our shoulders, as though we were childhood friends or close coworkers—a familiarity inappropriate for me, a warrior, and him, a con-artist.
“I’m a politician, so being unpleasant is essential to the job.”
Was it teleportation? No, it couldn’t be something like that. I felt the shift in the breeze, the shift in pressure, yet I couldn’t keep up with his speed!
“Let’s talk this out in my office. I’ve got tea~.”
Striking range. A perfect opening. The opportunity to strike had presented itself, and yet…I could not muster up the will to attack. Did he have his guard up? Of course not. The man was as lackadaisical as one could be.
Skadhi Bhattacharya had no weaknesses to exploit; it was as simple as that.
“Alright.”
I had no choice but to concede. The situation was entirely disadvantageous.
We followed the man out of the train station. Just outside the entrance was a limousine as pristine as the white city itself. It gleamed with such overwhelming sheen that direct eye contact became difficult. Its interior was much the same, except for a light-skinned woman with magenta hair tied in a bun, wearing a vacant, moribund expression.
“‘Scuse us, Melethusda.”
“Sir.”
With a strange fluidity, the magenta-haired lady, Melethusda, poured each of us a glass of expensive white wine.
“Shaddar Lovu’re. It’s an expensive brand from the eastern sector. An exquisite drink!”
Skadhi tilted his head back, downing the entire glass in a single gulp. I couldn’t bring myself to drink, not with the enemy in close proximity. Derrick was much the same, though I could see a slight tremor in his hands.
“Say, humans—no, human .” He leaned in. “How must one eradicate evil from this world?”
“...?”
“Come now, don’t make such stupid expressions! Do you believe shura to be belligerent demons incapable of higher intelligence? I wouldn’t blame you if you did. It’s a common misconception harbored by humans.”
“That’s hard to believe…coming from a murderer.” Derrick’s gaze was as sharp as a blade, his malice directly piercing Skadhi’s heart. “We know about what you did. Your broadcast. You caused the deaths of countless people—humans—due to the oppression caused by the shura's hands.”
“Hm…yes. I did kill them, but what about us? I’ve also been watching, you know. A single beast of a woman annihilated an entire district of innocent shura. In that case, who has the right to vengeance—you or us?”
“...”
“Ah, c’mon, kid! Shout louder! Young people should be more adamant about their opinions, no matter how contradictory they may be! You speak to me of vengeance while carrying the same sin. You hate me with all your being while harboring the hate of others. That is the way of the world! Slaying one’s enemy is the same as slaying one’s friend. Such is the height of absurdity!”
“If you can recognize that, then why did you start this massacre? Why didn’t you even attempt to broker peace?”
“Isn’t the answer obvious? It’s because we are shura.”
Upon hearing those words, Derrick’s hands began shaking uncontrollably. Eyes laced with malice. Mien filled with hate. His anger was reaching its boiling point.
“Excuse me, Skadhi,” I said, interjecting into the conversation. “I see little sense in this discussion. If the core of our conflict lies within human and shura, light and dark, then what use is conversation?”
Skadhi snapped his fingers. “A smart boy! Very good job! I was getting to that, you see, but I appreciate the inquiry.”
Out of the corner of my eye sat Melethusda, completely unengaged in the conversation. She hadn’t moved a single inch since we got into the vehicle. Hell, I don’t think she even blinked. Her detached disposition reminded me of Atreides, in a way.
Dismissing her as a non-factor, I redirected my attention to Skadhi, who had begun his grand speech.
“You see, gentlemen, I hate conflict. The poor and needy tear away at filth for even the slightest amount of sustenance, while idle leeches feast upon the work of the innocent taxpayer. People are separated by race, ideology, society, and, most importantly, alignment. This world of black and white is the greatest of farces, a circus in which everyone is forced to dance to the tune of Twilight .”
“—!”
Twilight? What did he know of that place? That realm?
“It is absurdity, the height of which had doomed the universe to eternal strife. I wish to crush that madness.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?” I asked.
“It’s simple, really. I will break down the barrier surrounding ‘everyone.’ Distinction is the source of sin, and sin is cultivated through ignorance. It must be swept away, every last scrap of filth, until the world is reduced to a thin white ash. A canvas, so to speak.”
“It almost sounds like you want to usurp God.”
Of course, I did not know whether God truly existed or whether such a God was worthy of worship, but one thing was certain. This man must never be allowed to sit upon the throne of God.
“Not I, we . I am one with my people, and they are one with me. There need one nation, a unified collective, to create peace across the cosmos. Urr, the people of this nation, shall become a species beyond black and white.”
“It’s impossible,” Derrick said. “Even if you truly did assimilate everyone in the universe under your nation, the resulting world would be lacking in color, just as this fake city.”
He turned his gaze to the window, observing the passing cityscape.
“A world dyed white cannot create life. You, who profess order, are but a dead man walking!”
“Hm…”
Skadhi, for a moment, seemed genuinely taken aback by Derrick’s words. His demeanor shifted from jovial to contemplative.
“Dead man? You presume me dead? Then what of you, human? Your kingdom is ruled by but one man, an unchanging man such as myself, who sits atop the throne with absolute dominion. What say you of him? What of his life?”
“I…I have no intention of following anyone.”
“You follow no one, yet carry the label of a soldier?”
“I am…” He paused for but a moment. “I am a failure of a human being, and nothing more. My purpose remains the same, even if I despise it so!”
Within the blink of an eye, he drew his blade, its arc carrying the wrath of an avenger. “Death to villains!”
“—!”
The hood of the car had been cut cleanly in half. With all his might, with all his disdain, the blade had reached his target, and yet, something had gone wrong.
“Interesting…I pegged you as a cub, but perhaps you were a great tiger!”
It stopped. The blade, with which Derrick’s hate was channeled and released, had been stopped with the skin of Skadhi’s neck alone, as though the man were made of steel.
“Very well, let’s have some fun!”