Chapter 61 - The Observers
The sounds of fierce battle echoed without pause. Before this intense scene, so powerful it was a wonder none of the glass panes in the room were rattling, stood two shadows, mouths agape in stunned silence.
Multiple large monitors displayed a single battlefield from various angles. Within it, one overwhelmingly massive figure and two small players had been locked in a deathmatch for over an hour.
Yes… a true deathmatch. It was a scene filled with an indescribable 'heat,' enough to silence two people who had observed, or perhaps spectated, countless virtual battlefields before.
"W-well…"
How long had it been since he'd spoken? A shadow emerged from the dim light cast by the monitors. One of them tried to say something, but their mouth, completely dry, failed to form the words.
He took a sip of cold coffee from the cup he'd been clutching and forgotten, then tried again.
"…S-so, your thoughts?"
The question was tinged with a sense of resignation, or maybe desperation. The other shadow, startled as if snapped out of a trance, tried to answer, only to follow the exact same path as the first.
"…R-right… I'm not even sure where to begin with my complaints, but…"
The second voice, hoarser and belonging to an older man, grumbled after he too downed some coffee.
"Ah… well, the first thing we need to confirm is…"
"As for her, there's been no direct approach yet. At least, there's no sign of any movement… though if she did something covertly, we'd be helpless."
"So, for now, it hasn't been flagged as an irregularity… Wait. This isn't?"
"That's the thing… it's stranger that she isn't doing anything. Based on her past tendencies, it would be unnatural if some kind of guide hadn't already been dispatched for a course correction."
"…Has she taken a liking to them?"
Perhaps. The first man gave a vague nod instead of a verbal reply, earning a groan that was impossible to decipher.
"…It's a problem that I can't even tell if this is a good omen or a bad one."
"It's not… entirely without precedent, but, well, yeah."
Nine times out of ten, something terrible was about to happen. And it would happen in a way that completely ignored any and all of their attempts to control it.
"…Chitose-kun, I'd like your opinion on something."
"What is it, Director?"
The man called Chitose responded with an air of complete, resigned exhaustion.
"If we were to take it away, how do you think she would react?"
The man called Director, looking even more weary than Chitose, posed the question weakly.
"Ah… are you asking about one of them in particular?"
"…The girl. The one who might actually listen to reason."
"I see—… After reviewing the complete logs from the past few days, what do you think, Director?"
"…Right. If I had to guess…"
His expression was unreadable—if one had to describe it, it was the face of someone whose treasure had been stolen without their knowledge, a look of emptiness so profound he couldn't even muster anger.
It was a pitiable expression, one that almost made you want to press your hands together in prayer. On the large monitor reflected in his eyes, the image of a young girl blushing in a young man's arms could be seen—
"…I feel like I'd get my head bitten off."
"…You have my deepest sympathies."
Two heavy sighs of different qualities filled the air. In the center of the gloomy monitor room, on the brightly flashing main screen, the curtain was about to rise on the final, decisive battle.