New Chaldea Residential Ward, Late Night
2 a.m.
The Wandering Sea base was completely silent, save for the occasional hiss of air flowing through the ventilation ducts.
At the end of a quiet corridor, a furtive figure was sneaking along the wall.
It was Sion.
Normally known as calm, collected, rational, and suprely capable, the alchemist of Atlas now had cheeks flushed an unnaturally bright red, like a girl experiencing her first love.
Instead of her usual refined Chaldea uniform, she had changed into a light purple slip dress with a silky sheen and delicate lace trims.
This was not so store-bought product, but a weapon she had crafted specially—combining what remained of Trisgistus II's computational capabilities with big-data analysis of Steve's preferences in partners.
Hugging a soft pillow tightly to her chest, Sion took a deep breath and stopped in front of a familiar black tal door.
"Calm down, Sion… Calculations show the target's vigilance is at its lowest right now, his body and mind both in a relaxed state."
She tried quietly to psych herself up, but the images she had been peeking at over the past few days through the master-servant contract—the small, intimate monts between Steve and his wife in that parallel world—kept surfacing in her mind against her will.
That warm embrace, that deep gaze, and… those face-heating nights.
It might be a different world's mory, but the resonance it stirred in the depths of her soul was undeniable.
Since the future had already been decided, wasn't it only logical to exercise her rights as his wife in advance?
Sion pushed up the glasses that were not even on her nose, trying to hide her inner turmoil behind academic terminology.
Yes, this is to deepen the magical bond between master and servant… a necessary ritual for mana replenishnt!
It was absolutely not because she just wanted to be with him…
Her face turned even redder.
She had to act!
Ophelia, that seemingly traditional woman, had joined them; Mash and Ritsuka were here too… the female population in Chaldea was increasing at an exponential rate!
As the self-proclaid empress, she had to establish her sovereignty!
Thump, thump.
Extending a finger, she gave a gentle knock on the door.
"…Steve? Are you still up? It's Sion… there's so data about tomorrow's schedule I'd like to check with you…"
Her voice was as faint as a trickle of water, completely at odds with her usual decisive and efficient deanor as a technical advisor.
Yet on the other side of the door, there was nothing but death-like silence.
"…Is he asleep?"
Sion bit her lip, her heart pounding at nearly 120 beats a minute.
She gripped the doorknob tightly, her palm glistening with sweat.
"Um… may I co in?"
Click.
The lock opened with a soft sound—naturally, she held the highest level of clearance in New Chaldea.
Sion took a deep breath, ntally preparing herself for all sorts of unexpected situations, picturing Steve just out of the shower, clad only in a towel… and abruptly pushed the door open.
"Surpri—eh?"
The room was empty.
The bed was spotless and perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle. It still carried a faint scent of aftershave, but there was no sign of the red-clad man anywhere.
"…Not here?"
Sion stood frozen in the doorway, half the pillow in her arms slipping down.
Without hesitation, she activated her ether scan, confirming there were absolutely no signs of life in the room.
The residual spiritual particles also indicated that he had been gone for at least thirty minutes.
"He's not here…"
A huge wave of disappointnt washed over her, and Sion sagged like a deflated balloon.
She picked up her pillow and muttered in mild frustration:
"Where did you run off to in the middle of the night…?"
"I was all prepared… even rehearsed those embarrassing lines…"
She stood there staring at the empty room for a while before finally letting out a sigh, hugging the pillow tightly as she stepped back into the corridor.
"Hmph, lucky you this ti…"
"Next ti… I won't leave you even the tiniest chance to escape!"
…
Yaga Moscow, Russian Lostbelt
anwhile, in that little world now sealed inside Chaldea, the first light of dawn pierced the thin clouds and spilled over the spires of the Kremlin.
The temperature here was no longer the hopeless minus 100 degrees Celsius of before.
After Steve hacked his way forcibly into the Galactic Sphere System using futuristic high-tech gear and began adjusting the environnt via its internal control systems, this land was on the verge of welcoming a long-awaited spring.
The piled-up snow had begun to lt, revealing black earth that had slumbered for centuries. The air was thick with the fresh scent of soil and moisture.
On the terrace of the Kremlin, a pink Anywhere Door appeared out of nowhere, and Steve stepped out, a half-finished glass of red wine in hand.
"Whew… the air here is really sothing."
"After staying too long under Chaldea's air conditioning, my nose always feels so dry."
He stretched, then glanced toward the far end of the terrace.
There, a silver-haired girl in a white princess dress was standing in silence.
She had not noticed the spatial distortion behind her, her gaze fixed on the rising sun in the distance. It was not a false, icy star, but the true, warm sun.
"Good morning, Princess Anastasia."
Steve spoke quietly.
The girl suddenly turned around. For a mont, surprise flickered in her ice-blue eyes, but it quickly gave way to the calm dignity of a royal.
"…You're that red-clad Servant, aren't you?"
As Anastasia gave a slight nod, Viy appeared at her back, eyeing the uninvited guest warily. "Entering the palace without prior permission is hardly gentlemanly behavior."
"My apologies, my apologies. I just wanted to bring you good news, so I took a shortcut."
Steve shrugged and snapped his fingers.
Light and shadow in the air twisted, and a hologram-like image ford between them.
It showed Kadoc in the New Chaldea cafeteria.
With a sulky look on his face, he was hungrily devouring a croissant while being bombarded with questions by Mash and Da Vinci Lily. Though he looked thoroughly fed up, the vigor in him was unmistakable.
"…Kadoc."
The tension on Anastasia's face instantly lted away.
She unconsciously took a step forward, reaching out with trembling fingers as if to touch the illusion. "He… looks well."
"Yes. He's eating and sleeping properly. Of course, he's forced to do heavy labor every day—but that sort of labor reform is just about right as atonent."
Steve smiled as he spoke. "Besides, I've already ford a contract with him."
"Contract?"
Anastasia turned her face toward him, her gaze suddenly sharp.
"Don't worry, it's nothing like a pact with the devil."
Steve swirled the wine in his glass. "When all of this is over, and once he has atoned for his sins against Proper Human History… I will exile him."
"His place of exile will be here—this Russia he has defended with his life."
"He will return. No longer as a recluse, nor as a magus, but as an ordinary human being. He'll live here, with all of you, and live out the rest of his days in this land."
Anastasia was stunned.
For a Servant who deeply loved her Master—even if she herself was the original core of a Lostbelt—this was clearly not banishnt but the most extravagant blessing imaginable.
"Why… why go so far for us?"
Her voice was hoarse. "We are enemies, fated losers…"
"Because I like happy endings."
Steve's answer was plain and simple. "If you watch too many tragedies, it ruins your appetite."
He walked to the edge of the terrace and looked down on the city below, now in the process of revival.
The tall, imposing Yaga were stepping hesitantly out of their hideouts, raising excited howls as they bathed in the long-awaited rays of the sun.
"However, Princess… there is another matter we must discuss."
Steve's smile faded. He pointed at the Yaga below.
"The temperature in this world has returned to normal."
"In other words, the Yaga's evolved forms—those beastlike bodies adapted to extre cold, which must constantly devour food to survive and sotis even resort to cannibalism—are no longer necessary."
"On the contrary, such high-tabolism bodies may beco a severe burden in a warm environnt."
"They will have trouble regulating their body temperature, suffer from heatstroke, and with the shift in the food chain, likely face a new wave of famine."
Anastasia held her silence.
As a ruler, of course she had already understood this problem.
"Now then, I have two options. I'd like to hear your thoughts."
Steve raised two fingers.
"First, using my astonishing wisdom and certain special thods, I can reverse their degeneration across the entire Yaga race and return them to ordinary old-type humans."
"Like Kadoc—frail, perhaps, but preserving their most original form."
"And the second…?"
A fanatic light flashed in Steve's eyes—the sacred radiance that belonged to a creator.
"We keep their strengths and remove their weaknesses."
"Eliminate their unending hunger, optimize the thick fur ant for warmth, and unlock their genetic potential, guiding them to evolve into a brand-new species that surpasses ordinary humans."
"In my ho world, that species is called the A-class New Human."
"They would retain human intellect and emotion, yet also possess the physique and magical affinity of a magical creature."
"They would no longer be a cursed race of beasts, but rather… the true New Humans of this planet."
Steve turned back and extended his hand to the young empress.
"Anastasia, choose."
"Will it be a return to the ordinary… or a step toward an evolved future?"
…
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