When facing Chaos, Goetia once again appeared under the name of Grand Caster, Solomon the King of Magecraft, carving out a path for Shiomi to reach his target.
Time had been short back then. Once he finished what he came to do, Goetia withdrew.
Romani's remark now was little more than an offhand sigh.
"I really should've asked him more," Shiomi said quietly, lowering his gaze. "If the Incineration of Humanity was ultimately meant to save all of mankind from an inevitable destruction… then what exactly have we been fighting for?"
"Even so, we can't let ourselves waver." Romani shook his head firmly. "We can't see the future. Even if the future Goetia promised was beautiful, it's something the people living in the present would never get to witness. Sacrificing those who are alive now… I still can't accept that."
Understanding Goetia's possible intentions didn't mean approving of what he did.
Romani Archaman believed that without hesitation.
Even if… it had been an act of divine mercy.
"You're right. I shouldn't hesitate." Shiomi exhaled softly. "Let's get back on track. Since we can't ask Goetia directly, we'll have to unravel the mystery of the Bleaching of Humanity ourselves."
"Replacing the surface of the Earth…" Romani murmured. "The Animusphere theory of Magecraft really did advance to a frightening level. First, assume the planet has a soul. Then create a replica. And finally, swap the souls to replace the surface of the planet."
"What would be the purpose of that?" Shiomi rested his chin on one hand. "If Proper Human History was transferred into Chaldeas… could fixing human history in place—preserving it as data within a celestial sphere—be considered… maintaining Human Order?"
"It's not impossible," Romani replied, unusually serious.
Shiomi fell silent as well.
It was only a hypothesis. But it aligned perfectly with the way Magi thought.
The Mage's Association did something similar. When they encountered an individual with extraordinary Magecraft talent—or someone whose bloodline or physical traits made them a unique magical specimen but whose lineage couldn't continue—they would designate them as "valuable assets" and "protect" them.
That protection meant sealing them away for life.
No different from a specimen suspended in formalin.
As an executor of Sealing Designations, Shiomi understood this all too well. Though in his case, he had mostly dealt with Magi who violated taboos, so he had long regarded it as a necessary measure to maintain the surface order of human society.
Applied to Human Order, the logic wasn't much different.
If its destruction was inevitable no matter what, then perhaps it would be better to preserve it.
Seal it away forever. Let it continue to exist in stasis, so that even if another form of life one day arrived on this planet, Human Order would remain intact… in some fashion.
"Of course, that's just one possibility," Romani said. "Do you remember what Peperoncino mentioned earlier? The last person Marisbury was scheduled to meet before he died was Daybit."
"I remember. Marisbury died by shooting himself, didn't he?" Shiomi had read the autopsy report.
He had taken a pistol from his desk drawer and shot himself.
"Right. Even the Mage's Association concluded it was suicide. There were no signs of a struggle, so everyone had no choice but to accept it," Romani said. "But it was never made public. Only a small circle knew."
"If it were me, I could stage a suicide without using Magecraft," Shiomi said. "When dealing with certain heretical Magi, I've used similar methods to avoid causing unnecessary turmoil."
"But Daybit is a Magus," Romani pointed out. "His physical combat ability might not even be inferior to yours. Killing another Magus with a single gunshot—one shot that immediately proves fatal—would be extremely difficult."
Shiomi shrugged, not disagreeing.
"Either way, we'll have to hear what Daybit has to say," he said. "Assuming he's willing to talk."
"Then I'll be counting on you." Romani let out a long breath. He was still anxious, yet there was also a steady reassurance in the way he relied on Shiomi. "The god of Chaldea."
"Tch…" Shiomi scowled. "God, my ass. If you're going to call me that, you might as well pray to me. I'll try my best. Maybe I'll even whip up something like the Ten Commandments for you."
"Not happening." Romani shot back with an utterly unimpressed look. "Who prays to a god who serves tea that's ninety percent sugar? Pray for diabetes?"
"Suit yourself." Shiomi waved him off. "Miss this chance and it's gone."
They both burst out laughing, and the atmosphere eased a little.
"Also, what are you planning to do about the Crypters?" Romani asked.
"Aren't there still three Lostbelts left?" Shiomi said. "Since the 'Alien God' treats Lostbelts as food, we need to cut them away before it gets to them. I'll handle South America personally. As for China and India…"
He paused, then corrected himself.
"…Let the Crypters handle it. No—call them the new Team A Masters now. Let them take responsibility. It'll be their chance to atone."
"So you're going to focus on preparing for the South American Lostbelt?" Romani asked.
"No. Before that, I want to deal with Koyanskaya. Even if she's only a Beast larva—"
As Shiomi spoke, Fou hopped onto his shoulder and let out a few quick cries, as if trying to tell him something.
"Really?" Shiomi blinked.
And then he realized he could actually understand what Fou was saying.
Romani, on the other hand, didn't look surprised.
He used to be able to understand him too. Now that he was an ordinary human, he couldn't make out a thing.
Fou nodded. Shiomi smiled and rubbed his head a few times. "Thanks."
Then Fou bounded out of the conference room, clearly thrilled to go run wild.
Shiomi stood up from his seat. "By the way, aside from sending a contact package to Sion, don't go back to the Wandering Sea for now."
"Why?"
"If the coordinates there get exposed, the 'Alien God' could do something minor and still cause massive casualties," Shiomi said. "There's still time left on the Wandering Sea lease. Have Sion prepare to evacuate. Once we do return, it'll be to pull out completely."
"Understood. I'll arrange things on our end," Romani said. "And… about the Director. This might not sound nice, but in this situation, the only person she can rely on is you."
"I know." Shiomi sighed. "But when something like this happens—something that practically threatens the meaning of your own existence… it's hard to know what you're even supposed to do."
Romani sighed as well. "Yeah. Someone like Solomon, who knew from the beginning that he was born for a purpose… might actually… not feel it the same way."
"…Maybe."
Shiomi quietly shook his head.