Clearing the Game at the End of the World

****

The marathon meeting lasted until dawn. After several hours of discussion, the seasoned commanders, hardened by battlefields and wastelands, produced a result that was not very impressive.

"Compared to the enemy, our base is in a better defensive position, so we should conduct probing attacks to assess and decide based on the enemy's combat power."

"If the [Orpheus] is activated, we will retreat based on the mobility of the vehicles, then regroup and observe the situation."

For people who came to lead an attack, they had a defensive stance, which could be seen as a kind of evasion, thinking ‘Let's engage and then decide.' However, I thought this aspect better demonstrated their competence.

There's no one who has experienced the uniqueness and destructive power of the Type 3 mutants in the wasteland as much as the soldiers from District 47 Dome.

It's not that they don't know because they are incompetent, but rather, they maintain a defensive stance because they don't know how to deal with the enemy until they actually face them.

Sssk- Sssk- Sssk-

[Type 2.5 left outside the base]

[Operation? Control limit? Actions considering the residents?]

[A valley inside a basin. A natural fortress. Sniping spot? Anywhere is possible]

[Orpheus. Destroy it? Don't destroy it? What kind of aftermath if it falls into someone's hands?]

Questions keep arising, proving how terribly complicated my mind is. It was a problem I couldn't conclude on my own no matter how much I thought.

"…Hyde."

[Why? Can't you see I'm busy?]

What comforted me was that there's always someone on standby, willing to listen to whatever I have to say.

"Sitting inside and just flicking your fingers, and you call that busy."

[Ha! Even if I had a few minutes without any thoughts, it would be something. Like putting an entire cornfield into a microwave, my head is a mess because it's making a lot of noise. So, you want to hear my opinion?]

"More like cheap consolation. It's nothing, considering there are so many armored vehicles equipped with monster machine guns that could shred 1km in front of them. Why worry, everything will end and we'll see about the compensation. Something like that."

[If I said that, you'd find comfort in it, huh? What are friends for, then? Go and ask them to coo over you.]

"After the meeting, I went to see Ezel writing his will. They were enjoying themselves, criticizing the lack of heroic spirit, and how a guy who passed the bar exam could write such a mess. I didn't want to ruin the mood, so I quietly left. In a way, I'm responsible for dragging them into this mess, so it feels a bit odd to complain. Being a leader means showing unwavering strength."

[Well… you really do make trouble for yourself.]

The silence of an empty space. One of the things I liked most about meeting Hyde was that it was a place without disturbances, where only Hyde and I could have a heart-to-heart. What once felt like an endless darkness now felt as comforting as lying in bed in the dark after a shower.

While talking to me, Hyde, lying on the sofa, was lazily swinging a long rod. He lazily lifted his body from the sofa and patted the seat next to him.

[Well, if you insist, I'll give you my opinion. Sit down.]

"A child barely a year old and already so presumptuous…"

Plop!

Somehow, despite being a fabricated sofa, dust flew up when I leaned back. On closer inspection, it looked exactly like my worn sofa in our shelter in District 47.

Despite our house being across the wasteland in District 47, leaning on the familiar dusty sofa made me feel as if I were at home.

Hyde's opinion was very simple.

[Sleep.]

"What?"

[Just sleep. Worrying 24 hours a day, even sleeping only half-awake, running simulations in your dreams. The human brain is an organ, too. Regardless of mental strength, fatigue accumulates. The fact that you have a disgustingly whiny third personality in your head begging for ‘comfort, wah wah wah-‘ is all because of lack of sleep. So stop making horrible noises and sleep. Orpheus, like Old Picture, seems to affect the mind. How can you face it with such an unstable mental state? Stupid shell.]

"This guy. I thought you'd say something, but if you're going to joke, at least make it funny."

[It's not a joke, man. Do you know about dawn syndrome? Around 4 a.m., you suddenly get overwhelmed with the sentimentality of your teens and start sending texts like ‘…are you asleep?' That's all~ because you're not sleeping when you should, destroying your biological rhythm and causing hormonal imbalances. From what I see, you're exactly in that state right now. So, stop talking nonsense and sleep. It seems Orpheus has an effect on the psyche, like Old Picture. Are you planning to face that with such a fragile mind?]

"Hormones and whatnot, where did you hear that? I don't remember that."

[‘Menopause-If leaves dry, they shall remain as pressed flowers.' Your father read it and sobbed when you were 14. You thought it was incredibly interesting and secretly read it. Though you threw it away after about 30 pages.]

Psik.

With a snicker, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight of the witty character. It struck me how much he had changed compared to when we first met. A mass floating in the darkness with only teeth visible had now grown to a height and physique similar to mine. He even had expressions now. His way of speaking had changed, too. His thought process, which once seemed like raising a child, had become similar to mine.

Suddenly, feeling comfortable, sleepiness began to creep over me. The quiet space where only Hyde's muttering and the rhythmic dripping of water could be heard. The familiar sofa. Fun, irrelevant chatter that had nothing to do with the challenges ahead.

"…Maybe I'll just sleep for five minutes."

As I sprawled on the sofa and pressed down on the bothersome Hyde with my foot, I heard him cursing. A chuckle. Another senseless laugh. Then I remembered what my mother had said. She was sorry for thinking I might feel lonely as an only child.

The guilt on my mother's wrinkled face made me laugh aimlessly.

"…Well, I'm a son who can manage everything on his own. I know how to get whatever I need."

[Ugh. Talking like we're brothers. Are you planning to shirk responsibility, Dad?]

"Spouting nonsense again. If you ever acted like a son, that'd be the day."

[Man, if you really had a one-year-old baby crying in your head 24 hours a day, you would've cracked your skull open with your own hands and it'd be the end. You should be grateful for a son who can grow up well on his own.]

My eyes closed. For some reason, void of any thoughts, I could comfortably surrender to the approaching wave of sleepiness.

.

.

.

.

.

After a while, seeing Professor start to snore heavily, Hyde sighed.

[Wow, damn. Thought he'd burst if he couldn't hold it in.]

Professor completely knocked out.

Hyde, looking at him, grabbed his favorite pole and pulled a corner of the dark space towards him.

Click, clatter. Sizzle- Whoosh!

A cascade of thoughts.

[Retreat and reorganization]

[What is Raptor for?]

[The relationship between Type 3 mutants and memory]

[W was impulsive]

[Duration of combat sustainability with current supplies]

.

.

.

.

.

Like a dam bursting, the thoughts Hyde had been blocking in Professor's mind came pouring out. The wind seemed utterly devoid of coherent thoughts, so Hyde forcibly blocked them, thankfully allowing him to finally face his fatigue.

[Well, I'm a bit of a rebel, getting along with the shell. Originally, blocking thoughts and pressuring the mind would have been my main job as a sub-personality.]

Professor, completely asleep. The control of the body now passed to him.

Hyde had to exert immense effort to suppress himself from surfacing to the consciousness.

[Not yet. It's not finished yet. Going out like this…ugh! It's not… fun. I still… want to watch a little longer.]

So, Hyde concentrated his consciousness on his left arm, naturally wanting to go outside.

[I might not be able to change much, but after all, it's a form according to my ideal, isn't it? I quite liked the body I had inside. Strong, flexible. At least it has to be comfortable enough.]

He was somewhat confident. He had done considerable research inside. If it's about following the ideal form in consciousness, there's no way it wouldn't follow my thoughts, right?

Slowly. Carefully. Apart from being a bit obsessed with memories, this also feels similar to the mutant gene movements, so if I touch it like this, with a flick…

Crack! Crunch, crackle crunch!

[Yeek!]

Hyde inadvertently looked back at Professor who had fallen asleep. He was sleeping, unaware of what was happening to his arm.

[It's okay, I can fix it, I can fix it again! I've done a lot of research. Just like the scene I saw when that personality was being formed, if I recall that light…. Just a tad?]

Crack crackle! Crunch! Crackle crackle! Flutter! Flutter!

[Aaaaah! So, sorry! Dad, I'm so sorryyyy!!!]

Hyde desperately concentrated his consciousness while looking at Professor sprawled on the chair in his private tent and his left arm sprawling across the floor like a large vine, melting.

[If I leave it like this, it's war. I must repair it somehow… At least restore it to its original state…!]

Initially, he wanted to offer a little help as he was facing a big battle. But now, considering he might have to amputate his left arm for daily life, Hyde clung to his arm with all his might.

During the two hours Professor was asleep, a scene straight out of a cosmic horror unfolded in his private tent.

****

"Hmm, grrrrrrrrrr— Slept well. Ugh, ughhh~ I feel refreshed."

He naturally woke up as if basking in the gentle morning sunlight. His head was clear, and he felt refreshed. His condition couldn't be better. I have to admit, Hyde was right. What I needed wasn't a clear answer but sleep.

‘I screamed my lungs out on the battlefield that rest is also a form of battle, yet I forgot it myself. I should thank Hyde. Hey, thanks, Hyde. That was very appropriate advice.'

[Huff, huff! Uh, um. Yeah, I'm glad you feel better.]

‘Huh?'

As I greeted him and stretched happily, something was off. The body-less guy was panting and sweating profusely, and the inside of the tent was a mess.

It looked like it had been hastily cleaned, but from the blanket covered in dust to the wooden chair with numerous scratches, and even the ground pocked here and there.

‘…Did you go out?'

[Uh, ehm, yeah! Just for a bit, I just stretched my body! I didn't even go outside the tent!]

At Hyde's response, I sighed. How is this just a brief outing? I'd believe it if you told me they had a pro wrestling match here.

‘Don't sneak out like that, and when I'm sleeping, you should also get some fresh air. After all you've done for me, couldn't I do at least that much for you? Moving around a bit won't make the mutant gene explode or anything.'

Considering the guy saved my life, I wondered if I had been too selfish.

Well-rested, I was about to go think things through, but decided I should clean up this mess first and reached for the dirtiest blanket.

Click, click,

"….Huh?"

Strange. I had long gotten used to the length of my left arm. Why can't I grab the blanket? Did I sleep so comfortably that my senses returned to old times?

This was troubling. My left arm was now an important weapon in battle, and its balance was off. I hastily waved my left hand, and the sensation was odd.

Cool and familiar.

"Oh…. This?"

Despite having fallen asleep in thick winter military clothes, I felt the cool winter air on my swinging arm. Completely exposed from the shoulder, revealing a normal-sized left arm with a mix of flesh color and black stripes. A bit far from ordinary, but definitely my arm. My original arm! Not the monster arm that couldn't even hold a gun, but my arm, made by my mother!

"Wha, what what what! Hey, hey! Hyde! This, this!!!"

[So, sorry! But it will definitely be helpful in battle…. Please overlook it! I'm going to sleep!]

"Sorry…?"

It was clear that something had happened while I was sleeping. Although it hadn't fully returned to a human arm, this extent was something. I had intended to praise him a lot, but…

"Did you… run away?"

This familiar sensation. The familiar anxiety.

Upon closer inspection, compared to the arm that had more flesh color, the black parts increased as it went up towards the shoulder.

Zzzzip- Flutter!

"Ah… it's increased quite a bit?"

I hastily removed my military uniform. And what was revealed inside was my body mixed with black gloss and flesh color.

The area now extended to cover the entire left chest up to the area near the diaphragm and around the scapula in the back, surrounded by a black carapace that had expanded its territory.

Without realizing it, I knocked on my chest with my right hand, and it made a hard sound. Not just the surface had changed, but the entire chest muscle had turned into this strange material.

I moved my fingers, rotated my shoulder, and swung my fist. There was no problem with the movement. In fact, it felt more agile, perhaps because the part of my body that had transformed into a Type 3 mutant had increased. A sound like cutting through the wind with a whip was heard from a casually swung fist.

[Um… you were facing a big battle, and I thought maybe I could enhance your combat power a bit by changing the arm to switch between its original form and that clawed form, but suddenly carapaces sprouted all over your body…]

"Ah, forget it. No need for excuses. Don't even start. I somewhat expected this."

It was just that I was hoping it wouldn't turn out this way and tried to forget. I had already heard it all from the doctor.

[The change in the amount of food is also an indication. Isn't it strange that you can eat the portions of tens of people and still not feel full? It means that, aside from that left arm, changes are starting to occur in various parts of the body.]

Said a researcher from the administrative department in District 47.

Just as he said about the digestive issues, but since coming here and actively swinging my left arm around, I realized. This power couldn't possibly come just from the arm changing. Even though it wasn't visibly apparent, my body was changing.

The parts now exposed on my chest and back were just the changes that had surfaced due to Hyde's will and reactions.

[…..]

"Don't blame yourself. If you hadn't changed my left arm to block that laser blade back then, we wouldn't even have the chance to worry about this. It's just that a fact we had to face sooner or later has come a bit early."

W said that once the blossoming started, it wouldn't stop. He had recognized it. My condition. And Hyde, who is very closely related to that change.

[So… are we going to change like him?]

"Adapters… well?"

The mutation virus, they say, swims up the stream of memory towards the trauma at the moment of death. But I haven't died yet, and my consciousness is still clear.

"As the system of GG said, I am the holder of [Overcame Weak Mentality], right?"

Even now, when I roll the word "mother" in my mouth, a bitter taste of blood comes to mind. But it's not the sensation of poking an open wound; it's more like the feeling of caressing a scar where new flesh has grown. The deep valleys in the memories that the mutant virus searches for have long healed firmly.

Perhaps my current exceptional state is because of that? If the virus, starting to go back through the memories of a living body, couldn't find the root of loss and started wandering endlessly… influenced by Hyde, a newly born pure consciousness? If that's the case, then at the end of this change…

"….Anyway, it will probably be a better sight than that freak born from a particularly fucked-up memory of ‘adapters.'"

[….I'll try to find a way, somehow.]

"Thanks for that. Well, it's not like something's going to pop out of my belly like an alien, so don't rush too much. Let's not rush and scare people like now."

With calm movements, I dusted off the dirt-laden blanket, got dressed in the thrown-off military uniform, and stepped outside.

Seven in the morning. Steam was rising from the mess hall tent.

"Let's go have breakfast with the guys. It's too early to think about the future when we might not even survive today."

[…..]

Hyde, perhaps too shocked to reply, didn't say a word even when coaxed. I couldn't read his thoughts well, but I could feel that he was deeply concerned.

‘…I'm really okay.'

It was just that the prepared day was approaching. Right now, I was more interested in my changed left arm. I felt somehow stronger, even if I didn't know why. I had to face a bunch of special mutants with my life on the line, but this was good news. Trying to confirm it by stretching out my fingers and applying force-

Crack crack crack! Crunch!

The black-striped part split open, quickly returning to its previously large state. It seemed larger and heavier than before, but because most of the connected part had transformed, it actually felt lighter to handle.

Ting, clang—

Crash!

Clatter! Splash!

"Ah."

Right. This was the base.

As I casually swung my transformed arm, five soldiers next to me dropped their trays in unison, alternating their gazes between my face and arm with indescribable expressions. The one who seemed to have some wits about him was reaching for his front pocket, probably about to sound the emergency alarm. Even I had to admit it looked quite grotesque.

"Uh… um… was just checking the equipment. Go back and get your meals."

"Yes, yes! Thank you for your hard work!"

"Th… thank you, sir!"

Watching the soldiers scatter as if fleeing, I retracted my left arm back to normal.

Crack, crackle! Swish!

"….This is really convenient. I should go eat and then get a gun."

It would be a lie to say I wasn't anxious, but worries for later could wait.

For now, I decided to focus on surviving the immediate future.

****