Chapter 11: What Do the Dead Dream of Amidst the Purple Smoke?

"Die!"

"...!"

The shockwave from their high kicks clashing sent ripples through the air. The surrounding automatons were instantly swept away by the aftershock. It seemed the enemy had decided that, with their numbers thinned this far, the mission was no longer viable.

"Great reflexes! How about this, then?"

Countless firearms deployed from the humanoid's back, every barrel swiveling to lock onto me.

"I'm going to turn you into a work of art—a very holy one!"

"Mode: Azure. Aegis of the Beyond."

A localized wall of distorted space intercepted every round. With a snap of my fingers, the spent lead clattered harmlessly to the ground.

"Whoa! Not bad!"

"Thanks."

"From what Burnatville told me and what I’m seeing now... you’re basically rewriting physics, aren't you? That’s your gimmick. Let’s call it Anti-Physical Logic!"

"I wouldn’t be so sure!"

He must have analyzed the logs from that first automaton I scrapped. It’s never good when your enemy starts figuring out your hand.

"Mode: Jet."

I kept the Phantom Sword hidden behind my back, closing the distance while using my handgun to keep him suppressed. I swung the hidden blade in a reverse grip toward his throat; when he dodged, I followed through with a heavy kick.

"Oof... you're a real piece of work, lady. I take back what I said before. Except..."

The machine had no face, yet I could clearly see a smirk twisting its features.

"The fact that you haven't used those flashy moves from earlier means there’s a reason you can't. Either they’re too taxing, or you hit your limit in the last fight."

He was mostly right. But I still had enough left in the tank for one final blow. Or at least, that’s what you're thinking, right?

The Avatar pilot's voice cut through my thoughts.

"With my current armor, I could take your styles, your space-warping, or that massive laser and walk away with a scratch. Heck, I’m confident I could even tank your Tachyon finisher."

I froze for a split second.

"I got lucky. If I’d fought you at a hundred percent, I’d be in trouble. But hey, give it your best shot."

"..."

The critical difference between him and me was the stakes. An Avatar was just a remote-controlled shell. The pilot was likely napping behind Imperial walls, their consciousness safely ported into the machine. Even if they suffered a mental backlash, they’d be fully recovered in a month. In this game, we were betting entirely different amounts of chips. Whether he won or lost, his wallet might feel it, but he’d never go bankrupt.

I decided to lean into his overconfidence.

"Yeah, you're right. It’s hopeless. No matter how this ends, I’m the one losing everything."

"Oh, finally figured it out? Look, if you’re game, I could put in a word for you with the Imperial Army. We’ve got plenty of defectors and exiles from this country."

"I don't see the appeal. If you want me to dance a waltz, you'll need a much more charming invitation. If the partner isn't enticing, I have no qualms about dumping red wine over them and walking away."

"A three-beat waltz is boring anyway! We need a four-beat pop song to really get moving!"

Sensing an opening, the Avatar unleashed a cacophony of suppressive fire. As intended, I was forced into a frantic, syncopated rhythm of evasion. As the stage grew smaller and my options dwindled, the winner would be the performer who kept playing until the very end.

Not yet... not yet... just a little more...!

"Do it! Use Tachyon! I'll take everything you've got and shut you down for good!"

"Not a chance, moron!"

Cooling Coat activated! The hem of my long coat glowed a brilliant sky-blue.

"Here comes the big one! I'm ready for it!"

"This... is the end!"

He dropped into a defensive stance, bracing to tank my ultimate move. He guarded his head and heart, ready to deliver a killing counter-blow.

Fine, I’ll admit it. My finisher really wouldn't be enough to kill you.

Not my official finisher, anyway!

"Mode: Azure. Airwalk. Mode: Jet. Black Hole: Pull!"

I reclaimed the sky, falling at a velocity that triggered a sonic boom. The gravity well yanked me forward, closing the gap instantly.

"That again? You really are out of ideas! A cheap trick like that won't—"

"Mode: Azure..."

"Dimensional Cleave."

The blade passed through the reinforced armor as if it weren't there. For a moment, everything looked exactly as it had before.

"Wh-what was that? You tried to scare m— wait, what?"

"And the dream wakes into reality..."

The moment I deactivated the ability, the Avatar split in two along the line of my strike. It fell apart, a clean, final separation.

"You... what did you do?!"

"I cut. Though, strictly speaking, I didn't cut you."

"My ability is The World: My Own Sky. I generate a virtual world within a specific range and manifest my power by interfering with reality. Just now, in the world I created, I severed the space that existed on the same axis as you. Reality simply had to catch up to the feedback."

"That’s impossible! Then what about the time-stop?!"

"Simple. I just wished for a world where no one but me could move, and I made it so."

"I can't believe... a freak like you...! Hah... haha! But you're finished! Once I relay your data, the extermination squads will—"

"You can't."

I looked down at the crawling human-shaped thing with cold eyes.

"It's impossible. Because that's what I wished for."

"Everything that happened here will manifest in the real you."

"....What?"

"Besides, there are seven other monsters in this world equal to or greater than me. Even if you took me down, you’d never conquer this place. Here’s a little parting gift for the afterlife."

I stood up and leveled my weapon.

"There are eight of us who hold the title of S-Class Slayer. Each has a nickname that defines who they are. There’s a Destroyer, an Entertainer... and then there's me. My title is..."

"The Tuner."

I pointed my blade at him and declared my name.

"I am The Tuner: Chrono White, the Clock-Tinker. You weren't fighting a girl. You were fighting the will of this world itself."

"Heh... hehehe! The spokesperson of the world, huh? Well, if I got taken out by the world itself, I guess there’s no greater honor than that. Hey... you got a smoke?"

I unceremoniously shoved a mangled cigarette into his mouth and lit it for him.

"I can't... feel a thing."

"It’s a combat chassis. What use would you have for a sense of taste?"

"True enough... One last thing. I really wanted to fight you again when you were at your best."

"I'll remember that. What's your name?"

"A bit late for that, isn't it? Varady. Varady Lyos."

"Goodbye, Varady. Be a good boy in hell so that maybe we can stand back-to-back in the next life."

"You actually believe in a next life? For a 'World,' you're... quite the... romantic... aren't... you..."

"I do. At least, I had one."

I gave the empty husk a respectful burial and set off to support the Newbie, who was likely in the middle of his own battle.

"Did I push the causality too hard? My circuits feel like they're about to short..."

I looked back at the stone slab I’d used as a grave marker.

"You weren't half bad, kid."