22 Laitera Project

"Reaction of the cocoon?"

"Decaying trend. We can assume the internal assembly is complete."

"I see. Then it won't be long now."

Second Fleet deployment unit—its true nature was Harold Byron's private army.

A group organized by Harold, leveraging his vast financial resources to intervene in the military, assembling forces to act according to his own interests.

A type of specialized unit, operating with purposes distinct from conventional military operations.

From its founding, they have acted toward a single objective.

Laitera Project.

What had been theoretically possible ten years ago is now confirmed as achievable.

A plan to realize that theory.

For the past decade, three essential elements had remained unattainable.

But eight years ago, they acquired one of the most critical elements—the object they call a cocoon—and obtained a lead on the second as well.

The final one was acquired just days ago.

Harold is certain.

The plan is progressing as intended. At last, they are approaching their ideal.

Only one clue remains to be pursued.

It has reached its final stage.

"Remaining candidate is this one."

"Yes. Sasamori May... former surname Bellwald. One of those who participated in the planetary expedition training on Melce eight years ago."

May's personal data scrolls through the display.

"Hmm... she has given birth to a child?"

"Is that possible?"

"Who knows. Depends on how thoroughly the biobody has been replicated..."

Harold pauses.

In his mind, various possibilities are being evaluated.

It shouldn't have been a伪装 that would be exposed by mere examination.

"Well, she exists. So it must have been possible."

Eventually, Harold replies dismissively to the aide's question.

Yes, there is much that remains unclear.

Yet most of what is unclear falls within a range that does not impede the plan.

Above all, the essential facts are known.

"Ah. A sickness, then."

"Yes. She suffered from a heart condition eighteen years ago, yet recovered abruptly. It does not appear to be natural healing."

"Possible, under the circumstances. The real May Bellwar died of that illness. Or perhaps the current Sasamori May was killed. A replacement at that moment."

They are searching for one individual.

That person is believed to have been embedded within the fleet no later than eight years ago, possibly earlier.

"If we could have accessed the ID registration records, this would not have been necessary."

"There is nothing to be done. Access to the Third Fleet's main database—both authorized and unauthorized—has failed."

And the cocoon possessed the ability to locate that individual.

Basic functionality at best—detecting only whether the target is nearby or not.

Yet for Harold and the others chasing a phantom trail, it was the most reliable compass they had.

The expedition training to Planet Merce.

At that time, the individual in question had left the fleet—confirmed as having participated in the expedition training.

“She abandoned the pilot path shortly after the training concluded. Appointed as an Instructor, it seems.”

“A sudden change in course. Did she notice the one pursuing her?”

“Unknown. Could be pure coincidence.”

After that, they continued narrowing down the candidates with careful precision.

The most direct method was to seize her and verify the identity in person.

Even so, while such authority might suffice in the Second Fleet, in the Third Fleet Harold could not exert such power unilaterally.

By leveraging BW Corporation’s substantial financial support and material transfers to the Third Fleet, a degree of leeway had been established—but even that had its limits.

The Third Fleet, a thoroughly monitored society, offered no other avenue; recourse to indirect investigation was the only option.

One by one, individuals were excluded, like filling in the outer moat, until the final subject remained.

Now that only one remained, there was no need to proceed covertly.

The quickest method was to test whether she was the person Harold and the others had been awaiting.

“Release the captured unit.”

“…This is a city district.”

“Is there an issue? The more critical the situation, the greater the likelihood he will expose himself. After all, the military is currently nonfunctional.”

Thus, movement would be delayed. No—Harold even considered actively obstructing it.

“If he is the successor, it won’t be a significant issue. If not—then it still isn’t a major problem for our plan.”

“I understand. So we no longer need to act in secret, then.”

“That’s correct. And the Litela unit?”

A query regarding the progress of the large device named after the plan.

“Progress is steady. Connection tests have already begun. No issues with the supply lines. There is a minor delay in progress….”

“A delay?”

“Yes. Appears to be a misarrangement of equipment.”

Staring intently at the monitor.

A delay of less than one percent across the entire operation. Barely measurable—within acceptable error.

“Do you think we’re becoming complacent?”

“No. Human error is inevitable. We consider it within acceptable limits.”

Harold nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. If it continues at this pace, there will be no issue.”

“Yes. I’ll proceed with construction.”

The monitor displays the incomplete image of a large-scale device.

Occupying the entire habitation section of a Lombardia-class battleship, it is the core of this project.

Its very raison d'être.

Coincidentally, its shape resembles that of a crown from an ancient era.

"Shall we crown her, or not..."

"If not, we return to square one."

"Only one element remains—should the need arise, we can burn it out by setting Ship One ablaze."

Harold spoke of incinerating a vessel housing a million settlers with no trace of guilt.

The aide heard it without flinching.

Simply continuing, matter-of-factly. The horror of mass annihilation laid out in calm detail.

"Surely it would be too much for the cyborg squad alone?"

"Only the urban blocks—no great difficulty. But sinking it? That would be a challenge."

Any human involved in the Laitera Project would likely exhibit a similar reaction—regardless of the atrocity.

Unfazed by any cruelty.

Drunk on the righteousness of their cause.

Convinced that every process and loss would balance out in the final result.

Even if their actions triggered war among the migrant fleets.

They believed the project’s success would ultimately serve humanity.

"There’s no doubt he’s there. Corner him, and he’ll act without hesitation... but uncontrolled catastrophe is dangerous."

"Accidentally misjudging the limit and killing him would be pointless."

"Their bio-bodies should be no more durable than ours. Wound them, they bleed. Destroy enough of them, and they die."

"Then a crisis under controlled conditions would be preferable, wouldn’t it?"

"In that sense, captured units are ideal. Their control is absolute."

Action had already begun.

It could not be stopped.

Yet, simultaneously, he understood this would not be welcomed by the majority of this cosmos.

Therefore, once set in motion, speed was essential.

"Time is precious now. The First Fleet seems to have sensed something. They may not know of our plan directly, but they suspect we in the Third Fleet are planning something."

"About that, we can only hope the higher-ups back home will contain the situation."

"There are limits to that. A month is the maximum we can delay."

If interference from other fleets occurred, the plan would collapse.

Harold’s group was merely a detachment of the Second Fleet.

If the Second Fleet deemed the operation impossible, they would abandon them without hesitation.

"Almost there. Almost there, comrades. The day of our great ambition draws near."

Harold’s mouth twisted into a smile.

It was unmistakably a mad laugh.

Ten years. The time spent glaring at the goal dangling before their eyes, teeth clenched in frustration—was over.

“This world will return to its rightful path…! The day of correction has come for this flawed world!”

—Two things they had overlooked.

The first was May’s body.

Illicit clone.

And illegal nano-machine augmentation.

Both had been managed within sealed environments, designed to leave no trace.

Thus, even Second Fleet’s intelligence operatives had not reached that information.

Her academic improvement? Simply a result of changed mentors and the resolution of her lingering tension with Kou.

Had Harold known these facts, he might have chosen a different course.

The second was the expedition training roster they had obtained.

Two names were missing from it.

Two who boarded illegally.

Togata Mamoru—and Higashiō Mio.

They boarded during the disturbance. The fact that they had boarded to conceal Mamoru’s subsequent injury was erased.

Two more individuals remain to be found.

Yet even if they overlooked these—resultantly, their actions achieved the swiftest outcome.