Chapter Text
Far beyond the reaches of humanity lies a mind-bending dimension. No sun existed in this plane, depriving the world of the bright blue of a clear sky or the haunting gray of stormy weather, yet it remained eternally bathed in the transient purples and pinks of twilight. Bereft of modern construction, this space was emblazoned with contrasting aesthetics. Limestone columns stood upon hexagonal-patterned, ceramic flooring as they stretched and supported critical areas of the domed space, while marble detailings decorated the alabaster walls. At the same time, certain segments of the room made way for gaps with no discernable shape that reached up to the immense ceiling. Within these fractures seemed to stretch into a vast void of nothingness as the lighting of the room could not penetrate the neverending pitch. The only exceptions were giant positioned apertures where circles of pure light burned bright. These two design motifs, along with the unnatural lighting, gave this location a beautiful yet otherworldly feel. To the populace, this world would be the Heaven spoken off in religious texts, but, to the inhabitants of this realm, this domain is none other than the Cathedral of Causality.
In the midst of this unearthly room was an awe-inspiring sight. Floating meters above the ground was an immense hemisphere composed of a mysterious material. Its texture looked akin to the molted scutes of a turtle’s carapace, yet they were layered on each other like an abstract flower in full bloom. From afar, it gave the appearance of a planet broken in half, but, with the uneven spikes of the shell, it also resembled a newly hatched egg. However, the hovering structure was not the only thing worthy of shock, but the contents within were as well. Within the uncanny crust, a massive chair installed snugly inside. Its completely smooth, stony surface gave a stark contrast to the uneven hemisphere it was confined in. Additionally, it bore an intricate, tree-like decor of unknown meaning. Despite these two objects being alien enough as is, the colossal being perched upon the throne was the most alien of all.
Towering above all creatures of the Earth, approximately hundreds of meters tall, was a ghastly-pale entity. Its anomalous head was devoid of all flesh and skin, leaving only its bony skull. Unnerving eyes sunk into the sockets of the cranium as violet streaked, white wisps of hair flared out and decorated the occipital zone. A golden crown was the finishing touch to this perplexing sight. This macabre composition was situated upon an imposing body cloaked in regal garments. The attire was as dark as a storm cloud and its thick fabric gave the same feel as a cumulonimbus cloud. The cloak it wore was secured to its frame with various buckles. Its shoulders were adorned with pads of iron and finished with golden epaulets. A neck piece banded with red and violet wrapped its collar while a golden rope was the final touch to the accessory. Its neck was hidden under a high collar with a gilded trim. In fact, the entire specimenʼs body was shrouded in the opulent costume, with the only exceptions were its skeletal upper limbs, as massive as sequoias, resting on the arms of its seat. If a mere mortal were to gaze upon this entity, one would most likely designate it the name of whatever god they believed in. As correct would one be to call it a god; however, this divine ruler preferred the title of Deus Ex Machina.
Currently, he was not alone in his chamber as a 175 cm tall, elderly man in his 60s firmly stood in front of him with his arms positioned at his back. Bespectacled gray eyes looked upon the deity with an equal air of authority. Dressed in a sable overcoat and slacks, a pair of pointed toe, ebony shoes, a deep burgundy ascot, and a signature kippah atop his vulturine head, this man was none other than the dutiful mayor of Sakurami City, John Bacchus.
“Good afternoon, Eleventh,” he greeted with a voice that boomed like thunder. “I take it that you wish to be updated regarding the status of the Future Diaries?”
“But of course, Deus,” the congressman responded with nonchalance. “We have been tirelessly working on implementing such never before seen technological marvels for two years and I merely wish to see the fruits of our labor.”
“Well, ya have nothinʼ to worry about, Eleventh,” a third, more childish voice answered. “These puppies are rarinʼ to go!”
At the other side of the space, a petite figure was seen. Vastly smaller than Deus, the being was as tall as a child with a height of about 70 cm. Its skin was a light tan in color and its lavender hair was tied into two ponytails. It was dressed in a pink sleeveless top, white short skirt, and equally white boots that flared dramatically at the top. Its wrists were decorated with two large pearly bracelets that matched with its pink-hearted hair ties. A golden horn was strapped to its belt. At first glance, one would assume that this creature was a mere kid; however, that assumption would fall apart at the sight of its pitch-black, spearheaded tail. Many would call it an imp, but it preferred the name Murmur. At present, she was balancing on a large, ornate, ivory ball while juggling various devices with the greatest of ease.
“I would have nothing to worry about if you werenʼt using them for circus practice at the moment…” coldly responded the bureaucrat, careful not to let his unease sink into his aging heart.
“Besides, Murmur, did I not tell you that those are not mere playthings?” inquired the divinity with heightened command.
“Aww, come on, Deus!” she whined. “Iʼve seen yʼall handle these babies for as long as this little project of yours began. This is my only chance to properly cop a feel. Can I at least play with ‘em before I have to deliver ‘em?”
“I assure you, you will most definitely get the chance to ‘cop a feel’ during your assignment, but surely you must know how dire the consequences will be if you were to damage any of them?”
“Iʼm not an idiot! I know what would happen if any of these would break.”
“Oh, really now?” contemplated he, his giant hand scratching at his chin. “In that case,” he followed, extending his arm towards the devil. “Would you care to hand those over?”
“Please, Deus!” complained she. “Just a little longer! Iʼm so close to beatinʼ my record!”
“Murmur, do not make me count to three.” ordered the god.
“Please…” the demon pleaded.
“One…”
“Just a little more…”
“Two…”
“A few more seconds…”
“Two and a half…”
Silence was the only answer as she desperately continued her act.
“Must I really finish counting…?” he asked, exerting his dominion.
“Fine!” yelled she in petulant frustration.
With the skill of a veteran juggler, Murmur managed to stop her act and let the Future Diaries gently drop into her arms. She jumped into the outstretched palm of her superior, begrudgingly placed the gadgets into a neat little circle, and jumped onto her ball with aplomb as a temper grew within her.
“Now, that wasnʼt so difficult now, was it?” rhetorically asked he.
The only answer was a cold shoulder.
Ignoring the little tantrum his assistant was throwing, the deity faced his visitor.
“As Murmur said earlier, the Future Diaries have been completed,” he said. “It took a while to minutely adjust the law of cause and effect in order for them to function properly, but I believe that it was worth the wait.”
With a scarlet glow of his menacing eyes, the diaries began to levitate from his hand and floated towards the first soon-to-be owner. As the devices flitted their way, they rotated on an imaginary axis like the plasticine horses of a carousel ride. Soon, they were in front of Bacchus; face-to-face with his selected diary. Sandwiched between a white flip-phone and a white audio recorder was a smartphone with a dark gray chassis. He grabbed the phone with the gentlest of care all the while the other diaries closed the gap left by their co-invention. Soon, they hovered near their masterʼs line of sight, on his right.
With utter awe at the craftsmanship, the mayor gingerly touched the sides and back of the device; feeling the smoothness of its pristine casing. His fingers slowly came to the power button and pressed it, illuminating the dark LCD screen with a sudden burst of light. He was greeted with a portrait of picturesque bunches of green and red grapes inside an ornate fruit bowl along with a selection of wine and a slender and elegant glass filled with maroon liquid. This was none other than his phoneʼs wallpaper.
With a swipe of his finger, the lock screen gave way to a simple home screen; the picture of grapes and wine still present in the background. Ignoring the other applications and notifications, the congressman made his way to his diary. Once logged in, the interface showed a staggeringly blank screen. There was nothing else loaded within the app. No new entries were seen and the only thing present was a pop-up notification that read: “Awaiting other users…” To most, this would have been a cause for concern, but, to a man like him, this was a part of his plan coming into fruition.
As he was gazing upon his Future Diary, plotting his next moves, his attention was suddenly cut by a thundering voice.
“Hmm, it would appear that Ninth is in quite the dilemma…” said the divinity with near-absent worry in his voice.
Prying his eyes off the device and pocketing it, the bureaucrat gazed upon what was the issue. Floating in front of the god was a wide, holographic screen. Within the unknown display, it projected what appeared to be the top floor of the Empire Hotel. The once opulent hallways were now filled with black, billowing smoke as sparks and embers were seen flying in the distance. Several guests were shown evacuating the premises while being escorted by police officers and nearby hotel staff. However, despite the exodus, two individuals were at an impasse.
The first individual was the shortest between them, with a height of 163 cm. She wore a bulletproof vest overtop a blue suit and black tie, complete with a silver, single starred shoulder knot and a silver chest badge decorated with a golden pair of bars and insignia. Her purple hair, underneath her white hat, was tied up into a high ponytail with a simple red ribbon. Her scrunched brows and bespectacled violet eyes were displaying nothing but confusion and frustration while her lips were pursed shut. Her legs shifted subtly, as if waiting for an opening. This woman was a police detective of the Sakurami City Police Department, Natsuko Ooshima. An orange cell phone was tightly clutched in her right hand.
The second one was around 173 cm in height and wore a similar uniform. The only difference was that the star on the knot and the bottom design of the badge was golden. His medium-length hair was hazel in color and frayed out considerably near the ends. His chocolate irises were filled with disbelief as his mouth was slightly agape. His feet were fixed on the floor, as if trying to hide the slight trembling of his legs. This man was none other than the Chief Investigator of the Sakurami City Police Department, Masumi Nishijima. Currently he was aiming a pistol at her.
‘An armed police stand-off, how interesting,’ Bacchus mused, quietly observing the events before him. ‘Although, considering that Deus called one of them Ninth, I best keep watch.’
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“I didn’t want to suspect you, I really didn’t…” the agent began, his voice barely hiding his doubt. “But if that recently found body was Natsuko Ooshima, then that means… You are…”
Nervous stillness was her only retort as a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead.
“That’s why we sent you a notice of the wrong room number, which is 2706…” continued he, slowly shaking himself into conviction. “And the fact that the room was attacked means…”
“You are not Natsuko Ooshima, but a damn terrorist!” a third, much more gruff voice roared behind the woman, completing the officerʼs sentence and causing more perspiration from the guilty party.
The third person, which the voice belonged to, was around 182 cm in height and had an imposing build. His uniform clung nicely to his stately frame as the gilded portions of his badge gleamed in the light. His raven hair, all tied into a half ponytail save for his bangs, was gently blown in the wind, while his feet were stalwartly planted to the ground. His brows were furrowed as his olive eyes were fixed in a glare, all the while his stubbled mouth was set in a scowl. This man was none other than the Chief Inspector of the Sakurami City Police Department, Keigo Kurusu. He too was aiming a pistol at her.
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“It would appear that Fourth is also a part of this dilemma.” Deus commented, as if watching a mere television program play out.
“No biggie…” responded the imp, finally rising from her silent treatment. “Weʼve seen what she can do before, this is nothin’ new... Sheʼll find a way to cheese the fuzz and itʼs back to recreatin’ Bloody Sunday in a different country…”
“I suppose so, but let us continue regardless.”
‘Honestly, these two…’ thought the mayor, his mind slowly filling with frustration. ‘I am witnessing the wanton destruction of one of my city’s hotels at the hands of an international criminal while I am unable to put a stop to it and they treat the entire debacle as if it was a show ripe for criticism…’ followed on he. He redirected his gaze onto the smartphone in his hand and exhaled a breath of mild relief; his growing irritation ceasing to a halt, but not cooling down. ‘I have sacrificed too much of my time with this gambit already and if I am going to bring forth a new era of humanity, I suppose I can tolerate these carefree antics just a little while longer.’ With that thought out of the way, he continued his watch.
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Brazened by his superiorʼs presence, Nishijima yelled, “You’re a monster! A devil even! Why did you kill Natsu-chan?!”
Like a splash of cold water, his words stung and awakened the impostor to the reality at hand. With her nervousness gone, she cooly responded, “It was only yesterday that you wanted to ask me out, and, now, you’re calling me a devil…”
It was the agentʼs turn to become silent as he watched the woman he thought he knew morph into someone completely unrecognizable.
“Heh… Haha… Ahahahaha! Itʼs fine by me! Minene Uryuu has seen all of this coming!” exclaimed the terrorist, without a care in the world as she ripped off the mask and glasses she was wearing.
With a spring in her step, she jumped over the railing, losing her hat in the process, and hooked her right arm around a wire reserved for light fixtures. Shocked by the sudden move, the officer could only respond with a shocked “what”. However, his captain took a more proactive approach to the new development.
“You wonʼt get away with this!” yelled Keigo as he aimed his gun.
As if sensing his superiorʼs plan, Nishijima yelled back, “Chief, wait!”
Despite his meager attempt to stop the situation from escalating, a bullet was still fired from its homely barrel and raced through the air as it snapped the makeshift zipline the bomber was using.
Seeing the rope before her cut loose, sending her plummeting tens of stories to her demise, she recalled her life and all of the events that transpired for her to become the woman she was now, starting with the beginning: the once warm childhood turning into bloodbathed disaster and a never-ending quest for survival in a foreign land that wanted nothing more than her own death. She remembered all of what she had learned, schemes and plots in place of fashion and boys and what other typical topics girls of her age would’ve been interested in, as well as her countless country-hopping as she evaded police capture time and time again. The zealot reminisced on it all as her fall generated winds that lapped at her purple hair and disheveled suit. She reminisced and felt neither remorse nor regret and she certainly felt no need to call for help.
‘All my life, I’ve fought to survive for myself and my ideals. I never needed anybody’s help and…’ she thought, attempting to steel herself from approaching death with the root cause of her long harbored vendetta. ‘I will never pray to God.’
Despite the velocity of her descent increasing, she felt as if the world was gradually shifting into slow motion.
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Unbeknownst to Minene, her fall from grace was currently being monitored.
“Hmm, it would appear as though Ninth will be eliminated from the game before it even begins…” the god commented with the least amount of care. With a flick of his wrist, a second hologram was conjured. This time the scene produced was similar to one before, but from a different angle: the descending terrorist in the foreground, with a web of wires steeply below and a grand fountain laid at the ground floor. “I am quite sure that human beings are a resilient lot, but I am equally sure that a fall from this height, regardless of any interference, would still be fatal.”
“Big deal, we can always find a new one…” the devil mumbled like a child rudely deprived of sweets.
The deity gave a look to his attendant before turning his gaze on his guest, who was intently eyeing both projections.
“As much as an interesting venture that would be,” he started, putting on his usual authoritative air. “The Future Diaries are especially crafted to suit one prospective holder specifically.” continued he. As if on command, the remaining devices shuddered under his control. “It took a great amount of time to perfectly tailor the creations to their owners, and I believe that we would be wasting precious time if we were to look for another candidate.”
Noticing the exchange, the congressman thought, ‘Oh, how kind. After all his impassiveness, I certainly thought that a new Ninth would be needed, but I suppose I was wrong. Even a god that views our world as a toy box has limits.’
“Ya sure about that?” countered she, snide derision in her voice as if she won the argument already. “There is that one chick with the video camera. Iʼm sure we can suit that baby up with all our bells and whistles faster than I can say, ‘Fire in the hole!’”
‘His helper, on the other hand, is much to be desired…’ surmised he with the disdain of a disappointed parent.
With a shake of his gargantuan head, the divinity responded, “I am afraid we do not have the time for replacements, Murmur. We have already spent far too long in manufacturing the 12 Future Diaries.” With a knowing look, he stared down at the demon and continued, “Besides, you, of all beings, should know how limited my powers can be under time constraints.”
“Loud and clear, boss…”
Silence pervaded the chamber while the scene on the screens still played out in an excruciatingly slow pace. All three parties were in deep contemplation on the actions to be taken. The two authoritarians were lost in thought for proposals, when a shrill “Aha!” rang forth. To neither of their surprise, Murmur was the first to break the stillness.
“Deus, I got an idea!” she yelled with childlike mischief, foregoing her hissy-fit. The giant ball Murmur sat upon suddenly levitated into the air and flew next to the spot where the godʼs left ear would be. She began to whisper a plan to her overseer, much to the curiosity of their guest.
‘I wonder just what is that imp planning…?’ pondered the bureaucrat. ‘I better hope it does not involve drastic measures.’
She finished her hushed explanation and waited for an answer. Scratching at his chin, the deity ruminated on his assistantʼs little ploy.
“Come on, Deus, it’ll be fun~” the imp cooed, tempting his gigantic associate into her scheme.
Without a word, as though making up his mind, the two figures were suddenly disappearing before the bureaucratʼs eyes.
“What? Where did they go?” he loudly inquired. Rapidly gazing around, he saw no other means of exit. He followed on, “Just what kind of plan is this and why was it withheld from me?” The latent anger inside Bacchus was beginning to swell once more, before he noticed movement in the left-behind giant displays.
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As the terrorist remained in freefall, a startling illusion befell her: her own childhood self was floating above her, weeping.
‘W-what the hell is this….?’ she asked in her mind, as if enquiring someone, anyone, for a logical answer.
Seemingly sensing her inquiry, the prepubescent doppelganger ceased its crying and smiled at the bomber before responding in an echoing voice, “You’re quite the interesting person.”
The voice reverberated in the zealotʼs mind, wracking her nerves with the utmost turmoil, as she thought, ‘That voice… It sounds like me when I was a kid, but… something’s off…’ The more it bounced around in her psyche, the more unsettled she became.
Just when she thought the worst was over, it was merely the beginning, as the head of the child began to split in half, still smiling, and continued its speech; its voice gaining the effect of two people speaking at once, “You use your own strength to clear a path of the future. This strength may prove useful.” The illusory double began to extend its short arm towards her cellphone.
‘I’m going crazy, arenʼt I?!’ rhetorically asked Minene, her mind faltering and heart racing at the sudden developments. ‘Maybe itʼs from the adrenaline, maybe itʼs my mind helping me ease my upcoming death, but this canʼt be real, can it?!’
As soon as the cell was touched by the mimicʼs hand, it gave off a sharp- Bzzz! Screech! -shriek while the small screen was overtaken with static. It subsided after a few seconds and revealed a new diary entry:
4/21 12:09 PM [27th Floor Balcony → 1st Floor Lobby → Water Fountain]
“Fell from the 27th floor, but I didn’t die. Iʼm still alive. The escape route is still clear. As long as Iʼm alive, Iʼll continue to escape!”
Before she could recognize what had become of her phone, she bore witness to a horrifying ordeal as her doppelgangerʼs skin burst open like it was an overinflated balloon. The once pale-skinned and purple-haired girl in a yellow dress was torn to shreds and revealed a tanned girl with light purple pigtails dressed in a pink sleeveless top, giant bracelets, white skirt, and large white boots. All would be less devastating had she not noticed the black tail emerging from its back. The bomberʼs mind was firing blanks at each new revelation, but the humanoid before her cared not and continued, “A Future Diary has the power to predict the future. Your diary will now display the next 90 days of your future!”
Finally recuperating from the sudden shifts in real-time, the zealot could only ask in her mind, as her mouth was stuck agape in shock, ‘Who… Who are you…?!’
“Do you want to know?” the imp answered like it could read her mind. Awe-struck silence was the only response.
Before Minene could utter a single word, a deep voice boomed all around her, coalescing to her left, announcing a single phrase: “I am God.” She turned her constricted pupils towards the sound and found a sight that struck her to her core. Plastered on all the windows of the Empire Hotel, like a horrific collage, was a macabre sight: an ominous, skull-headed entity atop a dark, humongous, and looming figure. Her violet eyes locked with the sunken ones of the being who proclaimed itself as God and shuddered, as if her human mind could not comprehend such an accursed thing.
Snapping back to her senses, the terrorist felt as though time was resuming back to its familiar pace. “God…!” was all she could utter as the forms of the two otherworldly creatures quickly began to lose focus. Her descent was slowed by various wires, forming a safety net that allowed her to land squarely into a large fountain at the lobby.
Letting the cold water wake her back to reality, the bomber gazed at her phone screen and back up the upper windows of the resort, before yelling, “That was God?!”
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‘What on earth was that?’ the mayor thought while gazing upon the screens completely flabbergasted. ‘Did Deus agree to… to scare the terrorist?’
Soon, a haunting, juvenile laughter echoed around the room. Slowly taking form from out of thin air were the two supernatural entities.
“Oh, man! Didja see the look on her face?!” asked the devil in between fits of hysterics. “She was like- ‘What, now way! God actually exists?!’ -Hah! We totally blew her mind!” continued she, holding her sides in glee. She rubbed a tear out of her eye and gave a sigh of relief before finishing, “Man, now I really wish I had that chickʼs camera so I can frame that face forever.”
Contrary to his assistant, the divinity was perfectly calm as he spoke, scratching his chin once more, “Hmm, I suppose your plan was fun, Murmur.”
“See, what’d I tell ya, big guy? Am I right or am I right?”
“I will admit, you do tend to have your moments of correctness.”
“I know! Some people just canʼt see it.” proclaimed the demon, full of herself.
Breaking this display, the executive loudly cleared his throat, causing the two to turn to their neglected visitor. Her temper now gone, she swiftly floated over to the bureaucrat with joy in her eyes and asked, “So, whaddya think~?”
“Think of what exactly?” he inquired, scrutiny ripe in his voice.
“My plan, dummy!” she answered back, matter-of-factly. “Geez, I know yer old, but I didn’t know yer also becominʼ senile.”
“My age has nothing to do with this!” angrily defended he.
“Really now? If thatʼs the case, then what didja think of my plan?”
Bacchus took a deep breath before responding, “You wish to know what I think of your plan? I think it was the most immature thing I have ever seen. Not only was your little bit completely unnecessary, it also made me fail to see why you would even employ such an act.”
“Wow… You are becomin’ senile!” boldly said Murmur, eliciting a hush grumble from their company. “Anyway, in my eyes, all of it was necessary for two reasons. Number one, I thought itʼd be funny and it was! Number two, I thought itʼd be ironic if a person who didn’t believe in God and religion gets to see not only God, but his cute little assistant as well~”
On the outside, he was calm, save for a twitch in the brow and a harsh grip on his sleeve, as he stared down the imp. However, on the inside, he was fuming, ‘That’s it…? That’s it?! Those were the reasons why you concocted that harebrained plan of yours?! I cannot believe you managed to convince Deus to go along with it, but you even have the gall to call yourself a cute little assistant! After everything youʼve done, you only qualify for one and a half of those traits!’
“Speaking of, my little assistant,” spoke Deus, ceasing the mayorʼs flaming train of thought. The omission of the word cute brought a pout from one party and quiet chuckle from the other. “Since you have already delivered the Ninthʼs Future Diary, I expect you will be delivering the rest, no?”
“No problemo, boss man!” she claimed, saluting in place. Her ball floated upwards once again towards the still levitating Future Diaries. The devil produced a wicker basket from nothing and, like a farmhand, started to pluck the diaries from the air as though they were golden produce. She had managed to gather nine when she was stopped by an invisible force as she tried to grab the last. “Hey, what gives?!”
“Excuse my lack of warning, but I have plans for that one,” the god said, pointing to the sky blue flip-phone.
“Ainʼt that the Firstʼs phone?” asked she, completely unaware.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wish to personally deliver it myself.”
“Pardon me, but may I ask why trouble yourself with such matters?” inquired the mayor, his curiosity and worry peaked.
“To put it lightly,” began the deity, hands clasping together. “Out of all the 12 possible candidates, they intrigue me the most; therefore, I wish to give them their Future Diary as a token of appreciation.” he continued. Although he was finished with his explanation, he felt as if their guest was not satisfied with the answer. Locking eyes with the executive, the divinity sensed underlying frustration behind those bespectacled eyes. Leaning his body over, he asked dryly, “If you have no more questions to ask, then I take it you accept my clarification?”
“Positively,” responded the bureaucrat with no hint of contentment in his tone.
Reclining back into his throne, Deus announced, “Murmur, if you have no other business to attend to, complete the assignment I have given you.”
“Loud and clear!” she exclaimed with another salute. The impʼs ball landed softly on the ground with its rider and device-filled basket. Once again, from out of nowhere, she pulled out a small, white heart-patterned, pink helmet and strapped it on; the two tails of her hair slipping out of the helmetʼs rim. Grabbing the air in front of her, she mimicked the revving of a motorcycle while the ball roared like a cyclistʼs back wheel with each twist of her hand. As if on cue, the lights of the room changed, from purple to red to yellow and finally green. Given the go signal, the demon raced her way to the back wall of the room, leaving clouds of dust in her wake. She looked back at the two figures left behind and said, as her form started to fade away, “See ya later, Deus! And catch ya in the big meeting, Eleventh!”
Bacchus could only confusingly wave goodbye, while the god yelled, “Remember to not go overboard!”
The only response was a thumbs up as the devil was gone. The only trace left were ripples of air and the echo of vehicular humming.
Silence soon took hold of the chamber once more as liminal violet crept back into the chamber. Beneath the shadow of the master of the dimension, the mayor gazed at the spot where the childish entity was last seen. Behind knitted eyebrows, his thoughts were a mess; nonetheless, he pondered, ‘So this is it… All of my hard work is now culminating into this massive undertaking. Despite all my contributions and recent knowledge, I nary have a clue on the other individuals Deus selected.’
He paused his musing as he turned his head to the deity in question. Currently, he was absorbed in his work, maneuvering his spindly fingers across various mechanisms that sprouted from the ceiling like mechanical vines. Feeling eyes upon him, the divinity flatly inquired, “Is there something else I can help you with, Eleventh?”
The executive gave no response as he continued to stare, causing the other to return to work. His eyes paid no mind to the odd contraptions surrounding Deus, but to the actions he took. Despite asking a question, the god never once turned in his direction; only focusing on his divine tasks. He thought, ‘Before Murmur left, he paid heed to my presence, but afterwards, he couldn’t care if I left or not.’
The bureaucratʼs eyes once more peered into the details of the deity. Each crease, each crack, and each bony protuberance was meticulously examined. A train of thought entered, softening his heart, ‘Were you born like this, Deus? Constructed from the beginning with only the bare essentials? Did you choose to look like this? Foregoing form for function? Or… did you become like this? Working yourself to the literal bone for the universe until you reach your life’s end…?’
Bacchus stopped his staredown and looked at his own hand. Despite his abundance of resources, his body still showed its age. The once supple, beige skin has now been reduced to a taut covering over protruding veins. The once perfect complexion was now marred with wrinkles and liver spots. Flipping his hand over, the once soft palm only showed calluses and dryness.
Prying his eyes away from the reminders of his own mortality, he looked once more at the god floating before him. The frustration the mayor once felt was now flowing out of him as an odd sense of kinship took place. With an unreadable expression, he mumbled, “It’s like looking in a twisted mirror…”
“I beg your pardon, Eleventh,” uttered the deity as he interrupted his work. A flash of worry tore through the executiveʼs facade as he wondered if he overhead his musings. “If you truly have no other business with me, then I must ask you to leave. I am incredibly busy.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, the bureaucrat responded, “But, of course. I will be taking my leave now and forgive me for troubling you so.”
A curt nod was the only answer as Bacchus was dissipating from the room. Soon, only one was left, all to their lonesome.
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Opening his eyes once more, the mayor no longer saw the unearthly realm he was once in. He was now sitting on an expensive swivel chair in an expansive, deep emerald floored room. The walls were a warm golden brown in color and segmented at sections with raised details. Landscape portraits were hung along the interior of said details near the entranceway. Various magnificent bookcases- filled with books, folders, and awards -were lined up against the wall to his left. Before him was a rich mahogany desk neatly piled with various files and paperwork; a personal computer, landline telephone, and intercom were to his right. Behind the executive were large panes of sturdy glass and parted velvet, blackberry curtains, illuminating the room with the natural light of the afternoon sun. The opulent room was none other than John Bacchus’ private office, situated atop the highest floor of the Sakurami Quad Towers.
Currently, he was not alone in the suite. In front of him was a 173 cm tall young man in his early 30s. He had light chestnut hair that had a white streak in his bangs, and verdant eyes. He was dressed in black shoes and slacks, a pale goldenrod dress shirt, and a white coat. On his left was an identification tag that bore his name: Ryuji Kurosaki. His right arm was behind his back, while the other was in front, as if adopting the stance of a diligent butler.
“Welcome back, sir,” the secretary greeted with the utmost respect and patience. “I take it that your meeting went well?”
“As well as it usually goes,” the bureaucrat replied with a hint of disappointment in his voice. Fishing out his gray smartphone out of his pocket, he showed it off, and placed it on the table, before he continued, “Nonetheless, I have now acquired what I sought after.”
“My, that is excellent news, sir!” exclaimed he with glee. “This calls for a celebration, no? Shall I prepare a vintage?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes, but now is unfortunately not such a time.” Bacchus swiveled away from his registrar, his figure now obscured by the seat.
Noticing the conflict in his superiorʼs voice, Ryuji asked with concern, “Is something the matter, sir?”
Releasing an exhausted sigh, the mayor started, “You already know of the details I have for my plan, no?”
“But, of course, sir,” answered he with a nod. “You wish to become God’s successor in order to acquire the power needed to mold humanity into the perfect utopia for all its inhabitants.”
“Yes, and you are well aware of the restrictions I faced, no?”
“Why, yes, sir. When you proposed that you could become a suitable replacement for God, you were acknowledged for your accomplishments in leadership, but admonished for your physical well-being,” the secretary added. With a curious hand on his chin, he followed, “In fact, if I recall correctly, you were quite irritated that you were called, and I quote, ‘a wrinkly old fart’ by His assistant.”
Stifling a grumble with a cough, the mayor uttered, “Yes, I… remember such a thing… Strike that memory from your mind, will you? It was unnecessary and, not to mention, completely immature.”
The registrar gave a silent nod.
“Now, with my health being an obstacle, Deus proposed a solution.”
“Yes, sir. You mentioned that He planned to host a tournament in order to select His successor from 11 other candidates with the aspiring winner encapsulating the following criteria: strength, cunning, tenacity, and integrity.”
‘Thankfully, he left out that wily imp’s criteria,’ Thought the executive while giving a slight smile. His face returned back to a slight frown and said, “Well, this matter is regarding the selected candidates. I now know the identity of two of them through happenstance.”
“My, how lucky for us, sir,” commented he with a smile, attempting to soften his boss’ presently dour disposition.
“If only we were lucky…”
“Pardon, sir?”
Swiveling back to face his registrar, the bureaucrat spoke, “One of the candidates works for the police department. There was also a third individual present, but they too work for the force. Thus, I conclude that the police will be dragged into this matter.”
With a hand on his chin, Ryuji added, “I see, sir. Comparing your testimony with the criteria, I only have one guess on who they could be.”
“I too have a guess. I suspect that the Chief Inspector, Keigo Kurusu, will be implicated in this game.”
“I suspect so as well, sir. He does embody all of the requirements that were proposed, no? Strong, tenacious, morally upright…” said he. With a mischievous look in his green eyes, he added, “Quite the looker too~”
Annoyed silence and a raised eyebrow was his sole answer.
The secretary gave a small chuckle before saying, with a hand covering his mouth, “I only jest, sir. As you said before, appearance holds no water regarding leadership. I only wish to brighten your mood.”
Bacchus released another sigh before uttering, “Well, I appreciate your efforts in humor; however, the situation is much more dire than your brand of comedy can diminish.”
“I understand, sir. How dire is the situation? Does it have a correlation to the second candidate you discovered?” inquired the registrar, dropping his glee in favor of a more serious attitude.
“It does and I am afraid it may be the worst case scenario for the city,” gravely started the mayor.
He leaned forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands together, and continued, “The second candidate is none other than the international terrorist, Minene Uryuu.”
“Minene Uryuu?!” he asked, his green eyes wide with shock. “As in ‘the’ Minene Uryuu? The one who’s been wanted in over several countries since she left the Middle East?”
“Iʼm afraid so.”
“I see…” Ryuji started, trying to soothe his nerves with each word spoken. “If you claim that the second candidate was bad for the city, then I take it that she was within the city limits?”
“Yes, she was last spotted in the Empire Hotel.”
“The Empire Hotel?! But, i-isnʼt that the hotel where…” stuttered he, fearing to finish his sentence.
“You are correct…” the executive agreed, much to his assistantʼs apprehension. Attempting to dissuade the growing unease, he followed on, “Fortunately, her attempted assassination on the cardinal was thwarted just in time to avoid any unwanted casualties.”
Releasing his own sigh of relief, the secretary said, “That’s rather fortunate for all of us, sir. I take it that the Chief Inspector was the cause for the thwarting?”
“I suspect so. Although, she managed to escape police capture once again.”
Placing a hand on his chin once again, the registrar contemplated, “Hmm, that’s rather unfortunate… With a criminal menace on the run, I believe it would be in the citizensʼ best interest if we catch her at once.”
“I do agree,” corroborated the bureaucrat with a nod. Grabbing his phone once more, he continued, “Additionally, with the aid of the Future Diary that Deus bestowed to me, we can always find a way to do so.”
“Really now? Itʼs that powerful, sir?”
“Quite so. Observe,” Bacchus said as he opened his diary application. He clicked on the only available option: an orange banner with a simple bomb silhouette as the profile picture. The screen soon displayed a myriad of logs with a particular format. He scrolled to the newest additions and read an entry:
4/21 12:20 PM [Empire Hotel → Back Alley → Dumpster]
“Managed to escape from the hotel and hid behind a large dumpster in an alley. No signs of police. The escape route is clear.”
The sound of clapping echoed out as Ryuji exclaimed with amazement, “Truly incredible, sir! That Future Diary of yours is sure to bring about your dream!”
“Why, thank you, as always, Ryuji,” commended the mayor with pride in his smile.
“Now, sir, with this information, we can alert the authorities and be done with her once and for all,” spoke he while reaching for the landline. The moment his hand made contact with the black plastic of the handset, he felt a weathered hand preventing him from raising it from the base. Looking up from his stupor, the secretary was shocked to see his superior stopping him. He was stunned for moments, only able to utter, “Sir…?”
“I understand you wish to rid the city of this threat immediately, a noble goal in of itself, but there is a problem with your approach,” the executive uttered with a proctoral approach. In the end, he let go of his subordinateʼs hand.
“Enlighten me, sir.”
“Say that we were to call the police and inform them of Minene’s current whereabouts, how would they respond to that?”
The registrarʼs eyebrows were furrowed as he became lost in contemplation. After considering the question, he responded, “They would be thankful, but ultimately suspicious as to how the government knew such information before any official manhunt was conducted.”
“Precisely,” the executive agreed with the answer. Raising from his chair, device in hand, he made his way over to the windows while continuing, “As powerful as a Future Diary may be, its creation was devoid of the logic and rationality that empowers humanity.” He turned towards his assistant and finished, “Thus, no sane and rational police officer would believe that my phone gave me insight regarding their wanted criminal out of the blue.”
“I see, sir… It looks like we are in quite the predicament.”
“Not necessarily,” said the bureaucrat confidently.
“Pardon?”
Strutting his way to his assistant, Bacchus spoke, “Although we can’t divulge our intel directly, we can still assist the authorities without arousing suspicions.”
“So, what you’re saying, sir…” uttered Ryuji, forming a conclusion. “Is that we can send anonymous tips regarding Minene’s whereabouts?”
“Precisely. Well, after the manhunt is officially announced,” answered the mayor. He returned back to his chair and took a seat, while placing his phone on his table again. “That is all that we can reasonably do without painting us in a dubious light.”
“Understood, sir,” replied he. With his mind at ease from his boss’ plan, he began following through with today’s planned schedule. “You still have much to finish, sir. Shall I fetch lunch and a beverage while you continue work on the documents?”
“A light meal and water shall suffice.”
The secretary nodded and made his way to the door. Once he was gone, the executiveʼs demeanor shifted from pleasant to stern as he clasped his hands once more.
‘Just what exactly are you planning, Deus…?’ he pondered while reflecting on recent events. ‘I usually give you the respect one of your caliber deserves, but this choice you made is making me doubt your perception of this matter more and more.’ continued he, attempting to piece together a different answer than the one he had already surmised. ‘It was one thing to enlist the Chief Inspector, that I can commend, but for you to also select that blasted terrorist as a viable candidate…’
The bureaucratʼs focused eyes traveled from the end of his room towards his phone. He locked his gaze with the divine device, recalling the meeting prior and the new revelations, before rhetorically asking, “Who else are you planning to rope into this game of yours…?”