In the drawer, there was paper. Last night, I didn't tear it. I didn't burn it. Gaius's words, the atmosphere of the council chamber, the back of my own figure reflected in the Foresword—the parchment on which I'd written all of it still breathed at the bottom of the drawer. I confirmed it was there, then rested my cheek on my hand at the desk. Outside the window, it was still dim. From the direction of the Silent Treewood—the vast broadleaf forest spreading west of the fortress—morning mist seemed to be drifting in. Alright. Today, I'll think through everything properly. The moment I thought that. CRASH!!!! A tremendous sound echoed from the hallway. Followed by the rustling of papers. Pasa-pasa-pasa-pasa—that distinctive sound of many papers scattering all at once. "Oh—" a young soldier said. "'Oh' my ass!!!!" the supply officer barked. I lifted my cheek from my hand. I had a pretty good idea what had happened. Peering into the hallway, I saw a young soldier—one of the new recruits who hadn't been at the fortress for more than half a year, with freckles like tiny beans scattered across his face—had spilled summons documents everywhere. About twenty pieces of parchment were scattered across the stone floor in grand fashion. The soldier, his face pale, was saying "I-I'm so sorry!!!" while crawling on all fours to pick them up, and the supply officer, hand against the hallway wall, was saying in a low voice, "...collect them calmly." That "low voice" was terrifying. Quiet and terrifying. I watched the scene from behind the sliding door. How did that even happen? He just had to walk normally. The soldier hurriedly gathered the papers again and handed a crumpled sheet to the supply officer. The supply officer looked at it and quietly narrowed his eyes. "This one's for the medical wing," he said. "Oh, ah, then—" the soldier stammered. "That one's for the weapons depot inventory check," the supply officer continued. "Aw-aw-aw—" the soldier whimpered. "Collect everything and start over," the supply officer said. "Y-yes, sir!!!!" the soldier cried. The soldier took off at full sprint down the hallway. Dota-dota-dota-dota—the sound echoed loudly off the fortress's stone corridors, and from somewhere a voice shouted "Quiet!!" The supply officer sighed and looked up at the ceiling. I quietly closed the sliding door. (Is the fortress always like this in the morning?) I thought wistfully. Five minutes later. CRACK!!! "Waah!!" Lina Valt cried out. Lina burst through the sliding door from the hallway. Her water-blue short bob was standing on end, and her golden eyes were panicked. Fine sparks were still scattering from the fingertips of her right hand—she'd already caused trouble this morning. "Kenji! Assembly! Assembly! Council meeting! This morning!!" she said. "Your voice is too loud," I replied. "It's loud because it's important!!" she said. Lina stepped forcefully into the room. She'd been tense in the hallway, and her right hand's magical power still hadn't settled. I reflexively shifted my body to the left. —Yesterday it was my right shoulder. Which one today? "Calm down. Are you nervous?" I asked. "I'm nervous! Because of what happened with Gaius!!" she said. "I see. But your magical power is—" I started. CRACK!!!! Direct hit to my left shoulder. The water pitcher fell over. The pitcher on my desk toppled spectacularly. The left half of my clothes became soaked in an instant. The cold water seeped into the fabric with a soft sound, and the outline of my arm became distinctly visible. "..." I said nothing. "Today it was the left side! I think the right side was fixed yesterday!!" Lina said. I looked up at the hallway ceiling. I just looked up silently. "What got fixed?" I asked. "It's improving overall!!" she said. "No, fix it overall," I said. "Overall is difficult!!" she said. "That's not what I meant—" I started. "Should we change your clothes!?" she asked. I started to move toward changing when Lina grabbed my arm and pulled hard. "There's no time! Let's go!!" she said. "Wait—" I protested. "We're going!!" she said. Soaking wet on my left shoulder, I was dragged into the hallway. With each step, the cold fabric clung to my shoulder. I had to go to the council chamber with my arm clearly visible. As I walked down the hallway, I glanced down at my wet left arm for just a moment. The weight of the fabric clinging to my shoulder caught my attention with each step. I quickly looked forward again. (…Well, whatever.) It wasn't fine, but it was too late now. --- The Akatsuki Tower—a twenty-two-meter-high stone tower standing in the center of the fortress—in the middle level, I pushed open the door to the council chamber where the meeting was held, and three pairs of eyes immediately focused on my left shoulder. Everyone saw it. Celia saw it. The supply officer saw it. The medical officer saw it. Celia Astrid's silver-gray gaze moved slowly downward from my left shoulder, then returned to the front. The way her gaze stopped was just slightly longer than normal. I—noticed it. I noticed it, and from my wet shoulder to the back of my neck, I felt something warm spreading. Cold, wet fabric and a warming neck. The contrast was strange, and I smiled wryly in my heart. The supply officer looked away without saying anything. Only the medical officer murmured softly. "...Again?" she said. And covered her mouth. Lina couldn't enter the council chamber, so she waited in the hallway. Before I closed the door, she'd said "I'll keep watch!!" but that wasn't keeping watch at all. She was just standing in the hallway. Before I could take my seat, someone else opened the door. Gaius Craven—the oldest investigator at the fortress who had spent the longest facing records of encroachment, a scholar-like figure who had studied the encroachment phenomenon for forty-five years—entered. Black hair with white streaks, scholarly bearing, orderly gait. He bowed politely and sat in the central chair. Both hands placed neatly on his knees, his posture was orderly. The atmosphere in the room changed. Celia opened the parchment. She read it out concisely. External transmission of encroachment data. Unauthorized information gathering. Records of actions violating fortress safety regulations. Gaius answered immediately. He didn't deny it. He admitted it. The speed of that admission dragged the room's atmosphere into another dimension. In the silence, the supply officer's chair creaked. "Giii..." The supply officer stopped mid-weight shift and froze. The young soldier in charge of the meeting record tensed and put his elbow on the inkwell. It slid from the edge of the desk—clink, clatter—and fell to the floor. The sound of ink spreading on the stone floor gradually, quietly faded. Everyone listened to that sound. No one moved. After the sound of the ink spreading completely stopped, Gaius quietly continued speaking. "The purpose is clear," he said. Celia asked. "What for?" she said. Gaius paused briefly. "Encroachment cannot be stopped," he said. Seven characters fell into the room. No one said anything. The supply officer's chair creaked once more with a "gii," but this time even the supply officer didn't seem to notice. Gaius continued. His voice was calm. Not shouting, not servile, just speaking facts. "Forty-five years. I have watched it all that time. Encroachment continues to expand. With current technology, it's impossible to seal it or erase it. Then—to stand on the side that can master it. I believe that is the only path," he said. The room became completely still. The medical officer's hand was trembling. She tried to pick up her pen for the meeting record with her shaking hand—and dropped it. The pen bounced off the stone floor with a clink, hit the desk leg, and stopped. The medical officer tried to pick it up from her chair, half-sliding out, and grabbed the desk edge. The moment the supply officer saw that from the corner of his eye, his chair creaked with a "gii." Something was pressed against the window facing the hallway. The supply officer noticed it. A white slip of paper with large letters: "I'm keeping watch!" "...When did she put that there?" the supply officer asked. No one answered. Gaius waited quietly, facing forward. I stood at the edge of the council chamber, trying to digest Gaius's words. Forty-five years. The weight of that number slowly fell into my body. The length of time Gaius had faced the Void. The conclusion he'd reached after all that time was those seven characters. (Is it wrong? Is it right?) The moment I thought that, the Foresword quietly activated. Two images appeared. One showed someone walking safely through the encroachment zone. Moving with certain steps between crystallized trees. The other showed the fortress's stone walls crumbling. Black-purple haze encroached on the wall surface, and stacked stones collapsed. Both were equivalent. Both existed with the same weight as "real possibilities." Something pierced through my core. "Seeing and understanding are different things"—that fact came to me not as a concept but more directly, striking my body. I'd lived for forty years thinking "I won't understand anyway." But now, for the first time—I was standing on the edge of a possibility that not understanding might not be just my own defect, but perhaps the structure of the world itself. The Foresword doesn't teach answers. It only shows questions. Celia started to open her mouth. Just before that, her silver-gray eyes—for just an instant—turned toward me. Was it confirmation? A question? Or something entirely different? It was less than a second, but I understood clearly. That gaze had turned toward me. While my left shoulder was still cold and wet, in that single instant—the temperature in my chest seemed to return slightly. Cold yet warm, that contradictory sensation existed for just a few seconds, then in the next moment it was already gone. Gone, yet not gone. Celia spoke. "Suspend duties. Take into custody," she said. It was concise. Her voice held no hesitation. Gaius heard those words and for the first time moved the corner of his mouth slightly. Whether it was a smile, relief, or something else entirely—no one in the room could judge. --- After the council ended and people dispersed, I remained alone at the window ledge of the Akatsuki Tower's middle level corridor. Outside was overcast. The green of the Silent Treewood was hazy beneath the white sky. The air was slightly cool, and cold emanated from the stone walls of the corridor. The wet fabric on my left shoulder still hadn't completely dried. Lina appeared from around the corner. With a matter-of-fact expression, she sat down on the window frame beside me. "I know where you'll come," she said. "Don't say that anymore," I replied. After a brief exchange, Lina started talking about the "I'm keeping watch!" paper. She reported it in full. "The supply officer took it from me," she said. "Yeah, that figures," I said. "He wouldn't give it back," she said. "You don't need it back," I said. "That's sad," she said. "What's sad about that paper?" I asked. "The soul of keeping watch," she said. "Your soul's off," I said. The window ledge was narrow. When we both sat down, Lina's right shoulder naturally touched my left shoulder. Warmth transmitted through the wet fabric. I felt Lina's body heat seeping into the cold fabric. Neither of us said anything. Neither of us acknowledged it. We just both looked out at the overcast landscape. Thin light illuminated Lina's water-blue hair. The soft contour of her cheek existed quietly against the hazy green scenery. The warmth transmitted through my shoulder gradually, gradually seeped into my cold left arm. I spoke as if to myself. "The Foresword doesn't teach answers, does it?" I said. Lina paused slightly. "I think what Gaius said was wrong," she said.