When Kanzaki finally cald down, only a few ergency lamps provided dim light in the abandoned factory.
"I'll make up for my mistakes," Kanzaki said, wiping her tears and speaking with solemn resolve.
"No matter the cost."
Index shook her head.
"You don't owe anything. However…"
She hesitated, then pointed sternly at Kanzaki Kaori.
"If you really have to do sothing… please make sure no one else has to go through the pain I did."
Kanzaki nodded firmly.
"I swear on my sword."
Shokuhou Misaki watched the scene and—unusually—did not offer any sarcastic remarks. She leaned over to Mikoto and whispered, "That little nun is stronger than any of us imagined."
Mikoto nodded in agreent.
"For her faith to collapse like this and still remain so kind… it's unbelievable."
Kuroko glanced at her watch.
"It's so late already. Is that guy even coming back?"
She was referring to Rei Ao.
"I'm not sure. Let's wait," Mikoto replied, shaking her head. She could try asking Rei Ao in the chat group, but if he was in the middle of sothing, she didn't want to disturb him.
anwhile, contrary to Mikoto's worries, Rei Ao was quite at ease. If this world's notion of "peak human" existed, he was well beyond it—existing in the lofty realm of a "Magic God," and even beyond a typical Magic God's asure of power.
Standing at the pinnacle of the world, he was free. So at this point, Aleister and Aiwass were nothing but small fry easily molded by him.
…
Elsewhere, in the Anglican Church…
Steam tinted faintly gold by the braziers filled a certain lavish bath. Twelve Venetian mirrors reflected the figure in the center of the tub in a thousand captivating angles. A blond woman soaked in milky-white liquid sprinkled with Bulgarian rose petals. Beside the gilded tub rested half a glass of 1937 sherry. She humd a tune from The Magic Flute, slicing open a pogranate with a silver knife inlaid with rubies. Its scarlet juice dripped down her snowy wrist into the water.
Perhaps only one person in the Church was free enough to enjoy such luxury—Archbishop Laura Stuart.
Laura's erald eyes narrowed. Ice flowers suddenly crystallized across the water's surface as she sensed a top-level lock shatter. The collar imprisoning the 103,000 grimoires was dissolving around Index's neck like lting chocolate.
Blood seeped from the mouths of the twelve angel statues around the bath, staining the rose-water an eerie pink. Realizing what had happened, Laura lifted the floating silk robe with her toes, gazing at the slight curve of her lips in the mirror—a perfect smile that even the most exacting etiquette tutor would find flawless.
"Seems they've failed."
That "they" were Kanzaki Kaori and Stiyl, whom she personally dispatched. She wasn't surprised they failed. Perhaps they now knew the truth. Anyone who realized the ideology they'd always believed in was a lie would be furious—even they might co back to question her, the archbishop who deceived them.
She didn't particularly mind. Laura was suprely confident because she was the archbishop.
She didn't take it too seriously. Since Index was at Academy City, she'd move on to the next step of her plan. But at that mont—
The starry sky reflected on the water twisted, and a star that shouldn't exist flared brilliantly in the Androda quadrant.
A second shockwave was fiercer than expected. The fluid in the tub suddenly reversed gravity, rising before Laura in the shape of a Klein bottle topology. She leapt up, water splashing everywhere as the gilded tub split in two underfoot.
"Phase friction…"
Laura's fingers, still wet with rose petals, ran through her hair, which abruptly grew down to her ankles. In her pupils, geotric patterns not belonging to any human flickered, while the Celtic runes on the bathroom tiles all inverted.
When the third wave struck, she heard the sound of the world's barriers shattering—like soone toppling a glass jar filled with stardust.
"This is…"
Rei Ao's ascension to Magic God was disturbing the phases—and he was modifying them. Laura detected the phase changes caused by him, and other Magic Gods could sense his presence too. In their view, he was a newly erged "Magic God."
…
Over the Nile, moonlight bent by an unknown power ford a Möbius ring. "Nephthys" was weaving a burial shroud of deathly cloth. She paused her golden loom hamr and looked into the distance. The statue of Bastet the Cat Goddess spat out rainbow sands.
"A newborn child…"
The Death Goddess touched her holy scarab to a cosmic model made of those sandy grains. A tiline branched out with an erald-green sprout. She wrapped her linen robe tighter and walked to the pyramid's skylight, seeing a turquoise fla reassembling constellations in the depths of the galaxy.
…
In a floating tea-house above Chang'an, "Niang-Niang" stirred the moon's reflection in the tea with Yang Guifei's gold-trimd bone fan.
"Oh, a joyful event?"
She abruptly crushed the Xie Kiln porcelain in her hand. The tea that fell solidified into ice-like shapes. A dodecahedron spun around, each facet displaying the visage of a different dinsion.
"This ti, it's not their doing."
…
In the Seventh Garden of the Underworld, pogranate trees suddenly withered.
"Proserpina" rose from her onyx throne. The wailing of condemned souls fell silent as her long hair turned into countless serpents.
"A strange scent…"
She tasted the drifting remains of a phase. Her scorpion-gold fingernails abruptly lengthened three inches.
"Should I make earrings out of that new 'God'?"
…
"Chira," glimpsing the mutation through its myriad bestial eyes, froze in mid-brush of its lion's mane. The eagle head on its left shoulder pecked and shattered the observation crystal. Countless animal specins in the display hall opened their eyes—each iris reflecting the sa azure light.
"An unstable variable."
The centaur-like Magic God stomped its hooves, crushing runes that erged on the floor. Its sulfur-scented wings quivered, and it wore a savage look.
…
"Othinus," from outside the world, stared at the "universe" through her open left eye.
"…"
She considered whether or not to descend.
…
Almost every Magic God was provoked in so way by Rei Ao's presence. Only the "High Priest" remained in ditation beneath a bodhi tree. As every thread of fate converged upon a single singularity, the old Magic God simply brushed cherry blossoms off his kasaya.
"All phenona arise from conditions and are inherently empty.
The rosary in his hand manifested both birth and death simultaneously. One of the mallow seeds slowly turned a jade-green hue.
~~~
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