22 Companions in Stride 3
Ghastly.
The Unicorn thought it plainly.
Assault Frames were, of course, industrial products.
Their appearance must be identical.
To the people of Terminus, they seemed like a group of identical humans, expressionless and massed together.
Even if one said they were artificially created, what difference was there from those born of the Queen?
From their perspective, viewing with malice, Assault Frames were like mannequins meticulously crafted to resemble humans.
The Unicorn thought anyone who didn’t find that ghastly was the one who was wrong.
Even the Queen who had decided to ally with such an opponent, and her peer, Edelweiss.
But it was an order. They obeyed.
No intention to rebel existed.
Yet the revulsion remained, unavoidable.
She fires ether rounds indiscriminately into the rushing flock of griffons.
But there are too many.
The frequency is too high.
The unicorn’s barrage lacks potency—insufficient charge time has been granted.
Her own greed in attempting to down them all at once may also be dispersing the force.
—Disgusting.
What is most repulsive is the sheer insensitivity to pain.
Limbs are severed, yet they advance without so much as a flinch.
Even if they were mindless hagres, one might expect it—but humans, the unicorn acknowledges, possess intelligence comparable to their own.
These are of the same kind, even if she has not seen them directly.
Then they must have consciousness. They must fear death.
So why.
Do these beings fight as though their lives mean nothing?
The assault frame knows full well it is not its true body.
It knows the core is immeasurably small, fragile—compared to themselves.
That its peers concern themselves with such a thing is irrelevant now.
The core lies in the chest.
Aiming there should provoke fear.
Yet it advances without hesitation, as if unafraid.
Deterrence fails to deter.
It advances, unafraid of death.
—What are you?!
The Unicorn does not know what Harold’s fleet seeks here.
Edelweiss explained it, but the matter held no interest—so he did not listen.
The enemy who stole the offspring.
That was enough to know. That should have been sufficient.
Thus, this desperation remains incomprehensible.
This form—it is the same as the one he showed eight years ago. The one he should still carry now.
A stance that risks its own existence to prevent the loss of something vital.
Concentrating the dispersed ether projectiles into a single stream.
For the unicorn, born the sole artillery-type among the Terminus people, such ballistic control is effortless.
Dozens of light projectiles impact.
Legs are blown apart.
Head is crushed.
Yet the griffin, guarding its cockpit with its arms, breaks through the barrage.
Ironically, identical to what Kou displayed from a slightly distant location.
Ether concentrated in the limbs, avoiding only the fatal wounds.
Too late when the unicorn realizes the distance has closed.
Already within enemy range.
The ether blade, unleashed.
Such a thing—first seen when fighting a human.
Not just projecting it, but maintaining its blade form—how is that possible?
The threat is undeniable, even if the logic escapes understanding.
——Don’t underestimate me!
She exhales, sharp and clipped, as if to remind herself she is more than just a weapon designed to fire.
Her turret is, in itself, a singular striking weapon.
Swinging the mass of it, she strikes again—this time aiming to crush the chest.
The griffin veers sideways. From behind it emerges—another griffin, unharmed.
What—Unicorn stares, stunned.
A strategy from the beginning built on abandoning allies as expendable.
Cutting deep into enemy territory and expecting to return alive is pure optimism.
Likely, she is prepared for death as well.
It makes no sense.
Why can they so easily discard their lives?
When once lost, there is no return.
The question races through her processor.
The camera continues to capture the scene—ether dagger piercing the head, the vital center.
A shadow slips into the frame.
‘Konnno!’
Yuria intervenes at the last moment, her shield intercepting the griffin’s ether dagger head-on.
The deadlock lasts only an instant.
The griffin’s ether dagger breaches the shield’s ether coating, piercing through the armor plating.
It drives through the elbow, then slices sideways.
The left arm detaches. The blade continues forward, moving toward the cockpit within the chest.
‘Kyaaaah!’
The机体 explodes.
Yuria’s Raven is thrown back by the shockwave.
At that moment, Unicorn comprehends the situation.
She realizes—this person protected her.
And thanks to that, the opening created by the surprise attack has been sealed.
Only the reckless, unguarded life remains.
The barrel strikes the chest again.
The hammer-like blow, already driven home, compresses the chest so completely that survival within is instantly eradicated.
A direct shot could have followed.
No one had requested it.
The act of shielding might have been mere coincidence.
They, too, are probably afraid, mistaking themselves for that Hagure.
They had no reason to save her.
Yet Unicorn searches for the Raven—Yuria’s form—that became her shield.
There.
Left unattended, she would drift beyond the battlefield… perhaps never found, if fortune is truly bad.
Unwilling to let it happen, Unicorn alters her trajectory with a kick.
She redirects her course toward the rear fleet—unless fate is exceptionally cruel, she will be rescued.
‘Huh? What was that just now?’
A voice is heard.
The voice of the small thing that saved her.
A mere jest.
‘Why did you save me?’
‘Um, Unicorn-san?’
‘That’s what you call us.’
Nods. Then reconsidered—she cannot see him, after all.
Juria’s Raven was offline. Affected by the hit moments ago.
A melting trace, like nausea, remains near the cockpit.
‘Because we’re comrades. When comrades are in trouble, we help. Just like my friend did.’
Who that friend was remains unclear.
What intrigued the Unicorn was one point.
‘…Comrades?’
‘Isn’t that right?’
Well, yes. At least they stand shoulder to shoulder in battle—comrades, by definition.
At least the Unicorn would call them so, if they were of the same kind. But.
‘Are we not afraid of them?’
‘Afraid? Why?’
She had thought humans feared the Terminus people.
‘I know Mio. Among all the people I’ve known, she’s exceptionally kind. There’s no way her sister could be frightening, is there?’
‘Sister.’
‘Wait, was I wrong? I thought everyone was born from the Queen, so that must be why.’
It wasn’t incorrect.
Mio—was a temporary name given to the child who would one day lead them.
Yes, thought the unicorn.
Had this human met the Child before?
‘I don’t understand. The Child is not human. That should be clear. Why does she remain unchanged? Why is she not afraid?’
Before them, Yuriya’s Raven reactivated successfully.
The voice emerging from the moving frame seemed to grow louder—felt louder.
‘That’s settled—love!’
Without shame.
She declared the word boldly.
‘Ah… what?’
‘Exactly! Love is the source of all! With love, anything is possible! To be happy, one needs love!’
Eight years had passed, yet Yuriya remained Yuriya.
If anything, her devotion had been sharpened to a finer edge.
After all, her peers had married—she was beginning to feel the pressure.
‘Mio-chan couldn’t possibly be a bad girl! If anything, she’s too pure—makes me worry. She must’ve been deceived by some evil scientist this time, that’s for certain.’
‘Ah… what is… ah…’
She didn’t understand, but she knew it was something immense.
The source of all things. The primordial one. Profound.
‘I’ll explain that later. For now, I need your help. Will you cooperate?’
‘Ah… yes.’
Overwhelmed by momentum, the unicorn nodded without thinking.
Yuriya’s romantic mind had finally resonated with an alien intelligence.