26 The Moment of Choice 2

Why did her sister choose such a path, knowing the future?

Chi lifted her eyes from the diary, shaken.

Reading further now carried a different kind of pain.

"Why... why did I see two futures...?"

That part made no sense.

Chi herself was not an ace capable of predicting even a second ahead.

Yet she understood the principle, knew its nature.

It was not a phenomenon that revealed multiple possibilities. That much was certain.

Only one future could be seen by a single person.

Then this must have been nothing more than a dream—unrelated to the Laitera Project.

No, the shock had driven it from Chi’s mind entirely.

An ace’s future vision was information sent by the ace themselves.

In other words, since Rei had died, there was no one to send information back to the past toward Rei.

"Unless... Mio could do it?"

If Mio shares the same soul, perhaps she could send information to Rei—Rei’s previous life.

Yet even so, two futures remain contradictory.

Especially in the diary: one where I did not exist—reversed, one where Rei existed.

That future cannot exist.

Should not.

“I don’t know… I should probably ask Harold.”

Even so, meeting him under these conditions seems impossible. If I am guarding him, I would never allow it.

“…The rest.”

Perhaps reading further will clarify something.

A specific detail from that future.

Thinking this, Chi continues reading.

She reads. Understands.

“Ah. So that’s it.”

A sigh escapes Chi’s lips—relieved, long, weary.

“Was everything I did… meaningless?”

Having read the diary to its end, Chi finally grasps the meaning behind Rei’s choice.

She cannot fully comprehend that feeling.

Or perhaps it is the same as what she herself had just moments ago.

There is no certainty.

Yet the meaning is clear.

One understands that the choice made by Rei was to sacrifice everything for the sake of saving someone important.

And even if the details of the future remain uncertain, the reason for having witnessed two futures becomes apparent.

Only Harold himself could know whether it truly will come to pass.

But even Chi can form a hypothesis.

“Does Jin know about this…?”

No—Chi speaks aloud, then reconsiders.

He cannot know.

If he did, then Chi’s own experience would not have unfolded as it did.

Jin does not know.

It must be told—to Jin, and to Mio.

To both of them.

At the same time, Chi contemplates whether another path exists, one that could avoid both of these futures.

Soon, the conclusion arrives: impossible.

Since embarking into the cosmos, humanity has advanced exponentially.

Yet there remain domains beyond reach.

Even humanity, which seeks to intervene even in such realms, cannot alter the nature of life.

Therefore.

Chi has no choice but to decide.

Once more, the scales bear the weight of Rei and Mio.

But the meaning has changed from moments before.

Chi had declared that the origin of the soul mattered not—whether it belonged to another person or not.

Yet Rei did not see it that way. Rei believed two individuals sharing the same soul were the same person.

That is why Chi feels this decision must be made.

"If I chose my sister... she would surely be angry."

Chi cannot imagine her sister's anger.

Yet somehow, a certainty remains: she would never speak to me again.

"That would be unbearable."

Tears spill over.

"I've done nothing meaningful."

Chi speaks the words, declaring a lifetime of effort meaningless.

Tears fall without warning, dampening Chi's terminal.

"Just exposed the person my sister wished to protect to danger."

Now that she understands every action taken thus far has shattered Rei's final resolve.

Chi cannot cooperate with the Laitera Project.

She had never hesitated to trample another's resolve, will, or choice.

That was the extent of her desire.

But she could not erase her sister's wish—no matter what.

Her reason to fight was severed at its root.

All she wants is to see her sister again.

She has committed sins in that single-minded pursuit, yet that wish seems utterly unattainable.

If she remains seated here, Harold will secure Mio's cooperation and complete the Laitera Project.

Then Rei's final wish will be utterly crushed—this time for good.

Even if it were to vanish entirely.

Chi felt that Mio should be given one more chance to choose.

……Let’s go.

Wiping tears with the back of his hand, Chi rises.

What he intends to do next is a clear act of rebellion.

Especially since he is surely being watched—his earlier suspicious actions, which ultimately proved correct, had already drawn attention.

Still, this was the only opportunity.

He calculates the time elapsed since leaving the Third Fleet.

There is still time to return.

The overlight unit mounted on Chi’s机体. That is barely within range.

Fortuitously, final adjustments have been completed.

Checking the clock, it has been about two hours since he visited Harold’s quarters.

Has his confinement been announced to the entire fleet?

Chi’s prediction: no. Just a single pilot.

At best, the order has been relayed to his unit.

But if it drags on, others will inevitably notice. The ship is sizable, yet one encounters most crew members at least once every three days.

A swift resolution remains the only option.

The issue is how to exit from here.

Naturally, the door is locked.

Chi is not a combat cyborg designed for infantry; his physical strength alone cannot force it open.

That leaves only one option.

So old-fashioned it’s almost laughable, yet his sister would surely endorse it with a firm stamp of approval—history would prove its efficacy.

A faint smile tugs at his lips as he begins his performance.

“Ah, open it! Open it, please!”

He pounds the door with deliberate urgency, striving for maximum dramatic weight.

The plan only works if someone is watching—or happens to pass by.

Fortunately, they haven’t left him entirely unattended.

“Shut up! Stay quiet!”

“N-no! It’s wrong! The air conditioning— the air conditioning system’s stopped! Air isn’t circulating!”

On a starship moving through vacuum, the air conditioning system had failed.

That meant no oxygen supply. Even cyborgs could not survive in total anoxia.

“Please, open it quickly!”

“You’re lying. No anomalies in the control system.”

“You’re lying! Please… the oxygen’s getting thin…”

The knocking at the door grew faint.

In truth, Chi had deliberately restricted his own oxygen supply. Designed to function normally in low-oxygen environments, he had reversed the system to induce actual hypoxia.

The desperation in his voice was too real to be feigned. The other side reacted with urgency.

The door opened.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Deceiving someone honest was painful, but Chi was desperate.

"Sorry."

Restores oxygen supply to full in an instant, then lunges at the guard who just entered, behind him.

Closes a hand around the carotid artery, severing oxygen flow.

"Anoxia does this—no way you'd be screaming like that."

Ties the guard's limbs with a towel, forces a bit of leather between the teeth.

That should keep them occupied for a while.

Better finish this before they notice—otherwise, Chi loses regardless.

Borrowing a taser and a conductive jacket from the guard, Chi heads toward Mio's room.

The guard there is someone known by sight.

Normally, a nod would suffice to enter—but this time, clearly, a notice had been issued.

No words exchanged. The guard raises the taser.

But too late.

The guard did not appear to have undergone cybernetic augmentation. If any, it was minimal.

Chi, fully modified to match the ace pilot’s capabilities, exhibited physical prowess far exceeding that of an ordinary human, even if the procedure was intended for pilots.

Dodging the taser’s prongs by kicking off the wall, Chi advanced.

One step, two steps. Using the momentum from the kick, Chi drove a knee into one guard’s torso.

Ignoring the colleague flung backward, the second guard raised his taser too late.

Chi closed in, struck the jaw with a palm heel, then delivered a spinning kick to the dazed figure, rendering him unconscious.

"Good."

A fellow cybernetic soldier would have made this far more difficult.

That was fortunate.

No witnesses. The race was to outlast the surveillance’s anomaly detection.

Sliding inside Mio’s room after unlocking the door.

“Chi…?”

“Hey, Mio-chan.”

“I heard you’re under house arrest for violating orders.”

“Ah, yeah. A bit of a miscommunication, you know…”

Something like truth born from a lie, or whatever.

Chi speaks with a slight regret, unable to offer a more considerate remark in a moment like this.

“Anyway, I came to take you back to your guardian.”