The air reeked of smoke, hazardous mana, fossil fuel, oil, and metal. Explosions roared in the distance, plasma fire and magic colliding in bursts of light, mingling with the screams of men, women, and children.
Beneath the base, where captured rebels were kept, Julius emerged from the holding corridor, his expression blank.
——Mister.
The voice came from one of the cells. It was a woman's voice. Julius didn't so much as glance in her direction. Rebels were nothing but helpless and delusional.
No one understood that there was no turning back. The only way was forward.
To set back humanity now would only bring extinction faster.
That was the curse of those born too late to change the course and too early to see the end.
——Mister, why do you always come here?
At that, Julius finally turned his head. The voice belonged to a woman with short, cropped purple hair. She was no one of note, and certainly no one he recognized.
"Always? I'm not the only one who comes down here from time to time."
——No, but you're the only one who comes at a specific day of the week, at a specific time. Monday, 8:00 P.M. My guess.
"…."
Julius paused. There was no clock or calendar in the basement. And yet her answer was correct. The accuracy was unsettling. It was almost impossible to tell if she was guessing or if she had some hidden means of tracking time.
Julius stepped closer to her cell. The woman only grinned. Julius's eyes swept the room. There were no clocks, no timers, nothing she could hide a device in.
Her wrist was bare, and any belongings would have been confiscated long before she'd been thrown into a cell. There was no conceivable way she should know the time.
"SIBYL?" he asked.
If so, then she had some kind of AI embedded within her, much like his own.
"Pardon?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Don't play dumb," Julius said coldly. "How do you know the time and date?"
"Oh, was I correct?" she asked with a playful smile.
Julius's eyes narrowed. "Answer me. Now."
The woman raised her fingers, one by one. "One, two, three. Counting. Every hour. Every minute. Every second."
"…."
That was their first encounter.
From then on, whenever Julius came down the basement, the same woman would always call to him.
——Mister, you're always avoiding my question. Why do you keep coming down here?
Julius let out a sigh. "To meet a friend."
"A friend? A rebel?"
"That's right."
"That's surprising."
Julius shook his head. "Now that I've answered your question, will you stop pestering me?"
"You don't have to acknowledge me, you know?" she said with a grin.
And she was right. He didn't. Yet there was something about this woman that Julius couldn't quite put his finger on.
From then on, everything she called him, Julius actively tried his best to ignore her.
——Mister, what's it like outside?
——Mister, how old are you?
——Mister, is your friend someone I might know?
Mister… Mister…
Her voice became a constant echo in the depths of the basement.
"Anneliese Petra Aschoff."
"Oh? Yes, that's my name," she replied. "Were you curious enough to look it up?"
"Captured four months ago," Julius began reporting. "Charged with sabotage of mana-reactors and aiding rebel forces."
Anneliese tilted her head, unbothered. "I suppose that sounds like me."
"You don't seem concerned."
"Why should I be? You already know the sentence, don't you?"
Julius studied the file in his hand. "It says here you graduated at the top of your class. Majored in magitech-engineering. Was your life so worthless that you'd throw away everything for this?"
"Worthless? Why should I devote my life to thieves? I don't regret whatever I did. But you should, Julius."
"…."
Silence settled in the basement at that moment. It seemed she knew who he was the entire time. And the way she spoke, it felt as though he had been playing into her hand all along.
"Who are you, really?" he asked.
"Can you guess?"
"Not one bit."
"Should I give you a hint?"
"It's funny you think you have a choice."
Anneliese laughed softly. Then, clearing her throat, she spoke in a different tone.
"Access Granted. Welcome."
"…!"
Julius's eyes widened. He recognized that voice. No, it wasn't just familiar. It was nearly the exact same pitch, tone, and accent.
"You're…"
It was eerily similar to SIBYL's voice. Anneliese's natural tone was lighter, but the one she had just used was deeper. Still, when Julius ran a scan, SIBYL confirmed that it was a one-hundred-percent match.
Julius swallowed hard.
Anneliese only smiled. "Do you understand now? You people are thieves."
"You mean to say…"
Was she SIBYL's creator?
No, that was impossible. According to the records, SIIBYL had been developed by a Dream Industries subsidiary before becoming the company's core identity.
And Anneliese… she was far too young. According to the file, she was only twenty-two.
"Do you want the truth?" she asked. "You people stole SIBYL from us. You're nothing but thieves, preaching progress while standing on the backs of the dead."
"You're bluffing."
"Stubborn, too," Anneliese replied. "Why deny it when the truth is right in front of you?"
"You couldn't have created SIBYL. The timelines don't match. I'm not so stupid to believe you so blindly."
"I guess not. But I know who did. You know her, too."
"Do I? Tell me, then."
"You killed her."
"…."
"My mother. It was you people who killed her."
* * *
It was an old memory that Julius had resolved to confront the moment he regressed. Sitting in the backseat of the car, he sifted through the documents spread across his lap.
[Isolde Caroline Heinrich]
That name had lodged itself deep in his mind ever since he reviewed Anneliese's history. From the records, she was the only woman listed as her guardian. They didn't share the same surname, most likely a divorcee.
Julius scoffed. To think he would cross paths with that cheeky girl Anneliese so soon. And at this point in time, she was still just an elementary student.
"What's so funny?" Gabriel asked from the driver's seat.
"Nothing."
"Are you that eager to meet this Isolde woman? What, is she your next target after your tragic little love story with Lady Aiseline?"
"…."
Julius raised his middle finger.