03 The Power to Alter the Universe 1
“Hmm…”
The current state was unforeseen even for Harold.
A single past alteration—based on that experience, the world not branching was predictable.
Numerous theories exist, from worldline theory to hypotheses about parallel universes.
Yet Harold concluded this universe appears to lack them.
No—more accurately, perhaps they once existed.
Traces of them are visible. The sub-space. The failed world.
A place that once was a world.
Thus, a world with no room for branching is overwritten.
The present is rewritten by a changed past—this was Harold’s hypothesis.
“Hmm, hmm…”
He murmurs again.
“Indeed, I see.”
The overwrite was clearly taking place.
Harold himself sees another image flickering within his mind. A world draped over the present like a membrane.
This scene must be the result of Ace’s precognitive ability.
Or perhaps a state in which two worlds overlap simultaneously.
From the other side, this is how they might perceive us—
“No, that’s not it.”
That would leave no explanation for those who have lost consciousness here.
Something not proven in past experiments. The innate capacity to see the future.
Is it limited to a select few?
Or is it present in all, yet so faint that only a barely perceptible glimpse is possible—too subtle to distinguish?
Given the circumstances, the latter is more likely. The future is so clearly visible that even those without talent can perceive it.
And the reason consciousness does not return—
“Perhaps the source of Aether… a human soul exists in only one world. Thus, maintaining subjective continuity across two worlds is impossible.”
A hypothesis.
No—rather, it’s merely a speculation. No basis whatsoever.
Proving it may well be impossible within my lifetime.
“And that soul looks toward the world the individual desires.”
How many times has the world sent information back to the past?
Harold himself cannot perceive it, but it is certainly not once or twice.
Every human in this region desires a world altered after change.
How many iterations will it take to reach that state?
Harold was certain he would do it, if it meant securing Litera’s foundation.
And yet—
“…No, still, something is wrong. The very notion of overlapping like this is impossible.”
Two possibilities can coexist only because parallel universes exist.
A single universe, trembling between worlds. If such a thing is possible, then—
“It remains undetermined.”
And that conclusion, for Harold, was impossible to ignore.
"Why it doesn’t appear… I see. That’s the case."
The enigmatic entity that emerged during the first time-jump experiment.
An unknown form, neither clearly an assault frame nor a humanoid ASID.
The Laitera Project was executed in pursuit of a reunion with it—something dreamed of in solitude.
Even if temporal alteration succeeds, it remains, in essence, a promotional gesture for sponsors.
Not Harold’s wish.
It is precisely because of that wish that Harold remains on this side of the change.
"To be undetermined… means, in essence, that this situation could be overturned."
The Laitera Project remains active.
It continues to send information to the past, even now.
Like reversing the flow of a river.
One may ascend against the current if force is sustained, but lose it, and be carried back downstream.
Sending information to the past, the Laitera Project operates similarly.
By applying the force of ether, it achieves what should be impossible—traveling backward through time.
The activation of Laitera has made temporal alteration possible.
Thus, the world trembles.
Yet time remains before this becomes certain.
If Laitera is destroyed, the fact that alteration occurs at that moment vanishes—this state will revert.
Harold offers a dry smile.
In short, for the next several minutes—or perhaps hours—Laitera must be protected.
“But who…?”
The unit that breached the Lombardia-class 'Rea' is silent.
Even Shōgō Jin, who had been most vigilant—now a resident of the overlapping world.
“Paradoxically, those who desire this world, not the overlapping one.”
Unknowable.
At the very least, the overlapping world’s side should represent the greatest happiness for the greatest number—essentially, what most people would perceive as happiness.
Even in an ideal realm where countless repetitions fulfill every desire, it should be so.
Everyone who thought it didn’t matter one way or the other would still be trapped on the other side.
Those who did not wish for it.
Those who deliberately chose this side.
"...I shouldn’t be here, really."
Contemplating Mio's possibility.
Silence settled upon the throne of Laitera.
If her words were true, she was now a resident of the overlapping world.
Thus, that possibility must be excluded.
"Then—"
Just as the thought formed, Antares' sensors detected a new entity plunging into 'Rare'.
"Hmph. Truly exists. Two units."
Leopard.
Old model, to Harold—but still possessing sufficient specs for practical use.
Certainly not a force to be ignored.
Especially now, when only he could protect Laitera.
Still, destroying Laitera with the Leopard’s weaponry would be difficult.
An ether coating equivalent to an average Queen-type is forming from surplus ether alone.
"Destroy them, and the future becomes certain, doesn't it?"
Harold smiles faintly, activating Antares.
Lance— a small aerial artillery platform, responding to Harold’s will.
It advances ahead as the massive scorpion moves through 'Rea'.
A new intruder. The Leopard, likely the final determinant of this cosmos.
Toward Shu and May.
◆ ◆ ◆
"…hmm?"
Shu pauses the unit, scanning the surroundings as if something had shifted.
"What are you doing, Shu? Everyone else has stopped. You can't afford to linger like this. We could become like that at any moment."
"No, I felt something move just now…"
"Nothing registered on the sensors…"
"! Sis!"
What Shu saw was not chance.
He shoved his sister’s unit aside in an instant, avoiding the direct hit.
Even so, the impact could not be fully avoided. May’s Leopard lost one leg.
“Something—unidentifiable, but like a small turret? It’s here!”
“A small…? Some new defensive weapon?”
“I don’t know! It’s coming!”
In a narrow passage, visibility surpasses that of infinite vacuum.
As Shu had said, a small turret-like object darted through the corridor, attacking from ahead.
Yet within the confined space, the enemy’s evasion options were limited.
Approach came from only one direction.
Before long, interception became simple.
“What the hell is this thing?!”
“Are we the only ones moving here…?”
No clear answer, but they advanced while intercepting.
From beyond, the sound sensor registered a loud resonance.
Simultaneously, a high-output reactor was detected.
“Something’s seriously wrong… I can feel it.”
Don’t say that, sister… saying something like that usually comes true… especially in my case.
It was the same when we boarded the cruiser bound for Melce.
Before Shu, muttering with a twisted expression, a massive scorpion-like monster emerges.
A large mobile weapon, forcing its way through the corridor by scraping against the inner wall, barely fitting.
They instantly recognize, with a sense of dread, that this is no unmanned unit.
Impossible. We can’t win.
The opponent is undeniably Queen-class. Even if it were a human ace somewhere, we’re no match for this.
…Let’s use our advantage in numbers.
Even two against one doesn’t look promising.
No. It’s one-on-one. I’ll buy time. You go ahead. Pray there are no other defense systems.
Not addition. Subtraction.
Sacrifice one to ensure the other advances safely.
"But, sister!"
"No demonstrations. No strikes. There’s Mio in there. That’s the only chance we have—betting on the faint possibility she’ll manage something."
Retreating now offers no improvement.
This is the only way.
If we don’t move forward now, that dream—dark for May, yet strangely peaceful—will become real.
"...Come on, go ahead. Don’t rush Mio just because time’s short."
She says it, then fires the scorpion-type—Antares—pointedly, her ether rifle aimed deliberately.
No visible damage, but again and again, like a distraction.
That massive frame must struggle to turn in this corridor.
If she slips through the gap, there’s still a chance.
Jin made his judgment without turning back, slipping beneath Antares’s pincers, severing Lance’s interception, pressing further inward.
The bulkhead, opened perhaps by Antares’s passage, stood ajar.
He was the first human not from the Harold Fleet to reach this point.
“This is, Litela.”
He dismissed the Harold Fleet’s obsession with size, unneeded and excessive.
Jin searched for the most critical target.
At the summit of Litela—the throne-like platform.
Crouched there, the figure he had seen twice before: undeniably the being summoned by Mio, the true form of the Terminas people—Mio’s original body.
A sudden unease stirred.
What if Mio had lost consciousness, like the others?
He steeled himself—just as he had with May.
“Hey! Tohgo! Came to play!”
The words emerged, hesitant, after a pause.
The voice, so utterly out of place—.
"Jin...?"
Mio's voice, worn thin, replied.