Story Reader / Main Story / 22 Renaissance du Fantastique / Story
...
This place...
The curtain on the stage has descended, yet she finds herself still walking in endless darkness.
Shards of light spread from the edge of her vision. She reaches out her arm, trying to touch those drifting, glowing particles.
Countless memory fragments flash across her M.I.N.D.
A labyrinth of memories that is, a Tower of Babel built for the girl named Ayla.
Seemingly realizing why she is here, Ayla takes one step forth and plummets into the bottomless lake.
With a crisp snap, a scene unfolds in front of her, as if an old movie projector starts playing a film.
...
In the studio illuminated only by a desk lamp, someone gently pushes the door open.
Ayla, you have been working for three days straight?
Chairman Allen? What happened?
The members have been telling me that they've heard sorrowful cries and strange crashing noises coming from this studio... It frightened them, so I decided to give it a little investigation.
Ah-haha... Is that so?
Are you... drawing manga?
Yeah, I've been working on it this whole time.
All of the Golden Age manga works available in Babylonia's library are piled up at the side of her desk. In the center, there are some sketches that haven't been colored yet. The trash can beside her feet is stuffed with crumpled balls of paper, with even more scattered around on the floor.
It's great to see you exploring different interests, but how's your preparation for the art exhibition three months from now coming along?
A-art exhibition...?
Did it slip your mind? The WGAA is hosting a major art exhibition at Babylonia's salon in three months, which takes place once every two years. You already signed up for it before your last archaeological mission.
The association will allocate a special section with high exposure for new artists. Your previous works were highly praised within the community, so quite a few big names are eagerly anticipating your new creation this time.
Big names...
I see. Once I've dealt with the current task at hand, I'll do my best to prepare for the exhibition.
But before that...
But before that, there are things she'd like to take care of.
...
As time flies by, the day for another surface mission quickly approaches.
Ayla? You signed up again for the mission this time?
Good to see you, Orpheus.
Seems like those things from before aren't bothering you anymore, huh?
Is that a smile on her face? Even the girl herself couldn't discern the shift in her mood.
Ayla feels like a lifetime has passed as she waits for the transport craft to land. She lowers her head, gently clutching the item hidden in her arms.
This is what she has spent months working on—an answer she is attempting to provide.
She urgently wants to know if it is correct, if it is worth her continuing to pursue that wish.
Even a tiny bit of acknowledgment would suffice.
Once again, her imagination takes flight.
Imagine that girl's eyes filling with surprise and joy; imagine the comment she will make about this work.
Even though she has reminded herself countless times that reality may disappoint her, that she is not walking on a path with a predictable end but a labyrinth where there may be no way out.
Furthermore, the first turn one takes in a labyrinth often leads to a cold, dead end.
This settlement was attacked by the Corrupted half a month ago, and many facilities were devastated. Reconstructing the site will be extremely challenging.
What about those people living here? Did anything bad happen to them?!
We were lucky to have some members of Babylonia's Task Force stationed nearby, which bought us some time to conduct rescue operations. However, the sudden assault by the Corrupted caught us off guard, and unfortunately, we couldn't save everyone.
...
I see. I'll look around nearby.
She enters the ruins, greeted by the heartbreaking sight of what was once the boys' playground, now reduced to devastation.
The small shelter where the girl had been living is nowhere to be found, leaving no mark behind.
Despite spending all her spare time on the surface, exploring the nearby conservation areas, she still couldn't find any trace of that girl named Milly.
Perhaps she had been rescued, or maybe she had been relocated elsewhere.
Maybe she had left with her father before the assault took place, moving to a new home.
It seems that... my promise to her won't be fulfilled as quickly as I had hoped.
A myriad of changes could happen in an instant on the surface—she is well aware and has long been prepared for it.
She shouldn't let it upset her. As long as the ending remains uncertain, she should keep her chin up and continue down her path.
She is going to find that girl and fulfill her promise.
This is her choice, her determination.
Her journey has merely seen its beginning.
Still...
...
Ayla, you've been staring at that canvas for days. When are you gonna start drawing?
There's only half a month left before the exhibition. You gotta turn in something. Anything will do!
Many big shots will be at the exhibition. We can't screw this up!
I know. That's why...
She used to have inspiration striking her like lightning whenever she picked up a brush, but that feeling is too far away for her to grasp now.
She can no longer find herself fully immersed in her creation before the canvas, and even the colors on her palette seem tainted.
She is still brimming with ideas and thoughts, but a question has been haunting her, impeding her from placing her brush onto the blank canvas.
Will this become a good piece...?
The more she tries to present her best self, the stronger the urge to run away becomes.
This is her "second chance" to make amends for that regret. She doesn't allow herself to fail.
The efforts the association has put in, the expectations from her seniors, the admiration from her peers, the judgment of the viewers, and the standards she holds for herself.
She must bear these as she presses forward, having realized that the world is far more vast than the little space she and her friend used to share.
However, this determination has become a shackle, stifling her ability to express herself.
This is not going to work... I can't turn in a painting like this...
She locks herself inside the studio almost every day, but creation is never just a matter of time.
Ayla, if you keep this up, you're not gonna make it. I get that you want it to be perfect, but it ain't gonna be a cakewalk every time!
There's no time for more trial and error. Did you save any of the stuff you worked on during these days? Seriously, not even one piece?!
How about your older pieces? Anything that hasn't been published! Don't fret about whether they're finished or not. We can enlist some help to polish them up, as long as the piece itself is good enough to exhibit!
Hold on a minute, didn't you complete a manga piece some time ago? That should work! Hurry, let's make fifty copies of it! We can spin it as the WGAA's rising star experimenting with a new art form. There's always room to adjust the marketing strategy!
But I didn't draw that manga for the exhibition. There's no way the viewers would enjoy it.
Perhaps those big shots might appreciate a change of pace? You never know. It's our last-ditch effort, and all we can do is take a gamble.
She knows the manager was only trying to console her. As he takes away the copies of the manga, she can already anticipate what will happen.
In simple terms, she screwed it up.
Many don't understand why she chose to submit such a work.
Even the few critics who always strive to be fair and objective have criticized her work, labeling it as a childish and naive story with no artistic value.
As the creator, Ayla is expected to attend the exhibition for greater exposure and to engage with viewers about her creative process.
However, she didn't make a single appearance until the final day of the exhibition.
...I wonder what the chairman will have to say to me this time. Would I get expelled from the association?
The rising star, the center of all anticipation, is letting everyone down miserably, a blow that is surely casting a shadow over the WGAA.
She sits on a bench near the salon, discreetly watching people coming and going, torn between whether or not to make her appearance.
Ah... You are?
She turns around and finds a young person, roughly her age... or slightly older, asking with curiosity, likely having noticed her sneaky behavior.
The youth in the commandant uniform is a soldier who has recently joined the Task Force.
This commandant is currently on a break, visiting the WGAA to look for a penfriend. After not finding the person in charge of reception, the youth decides to pass the time by wandering around.
Once she starts talking with the person, words come pouring out. As she explains the whole situation about the art exhibition, the young commandant poses that question to her.
That manga doesn't convey any deep thoughts or carry any artistic value. The critics aren't going to acknowledge it.
Turning in such a work for this type of exhibition can even be considered an offense to art.
...
You like it, too, right?
I... would be really happy if you could do that for me!
You're right. I did fail everyone's expectations by not completing the task they gave me.
But an artist should never abandon their creation—it's a sign of disrespect to both the people who dislike it and those who appreciate it.
In that manga, there are things I want to seek.
That's probably why I didn't choose to sit back and give up at that time.
Thank you! Sorry, I've got to run. I hope you can find the person you're looking for!
She waves goodbye to the commandant and rushes toward the salon entrance.
Though being a Construct, she can still hear her heart pounding loudly in her chest.
This is the last day of the exhibition, and the crowd inside the salon has considerably thinned.
No one recognizes her as she pants her way into the salon. Nervously, she casts her gaze toward her own section.
She finds no one staying there as well as the fifty copies of her manga lying intact on the display table, seemingly completely untouched.
A result just as she predicted, and it is no longer her concern.
While she picks up one copy, attempting to introduce it to the people remaining inside the salon, a girl sitting behind the display table draws her attention.
The young girl resembles a little bunny that has wandered alone into a strange forest, curling up in fear and waiting for someone to guide her back home.
However, in that girl's hand is her manga—an image that starkly contrasts with the ambiance of the salon.
The brown-haired girl flips through the pages again and again, from the beginning to the end, as if the book possesses some kind of magic that draws her deep into its world.
Excuse me...
Ayla gently taps the girl's shoulder but receives no immediate response. It takes a few seconds for the girl to register that someone is trying to get her attention. Flustered, she quickly stands up with an apologetic look on her face.
I'm sorry! Am I in your way? Did I break any rules here or something...?
It is only now that Ayla notices the F.O.S. uniform the girl is wearing, but she appears much younger than the commandant Ayla met earlier.
No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I just want to ask you about this manga because you seem very attracted to it.
You mean this? I guess I did get pretty into it...
A friend of mine told me that attending this kind of exhibition could be a nice change of pace, so she got me a ticket. I thought she was talking about some Golden Age weapon exhibition... but it turns out to be something I completely don't understand...
The girl rubs her hair, looking a bit embarrassed. She surely doesn't seem like someone who frequents this kind of event.
I didn't want to waste my friend's gift, so I found a quiet spot to hang out. Then, I saw this...
This is the first time I've ever learned about something called "manga"... It's quite different from the art I've heard of from others, you know?
I see... So, what do you think after reading it?
Um... Is this like an interview for guests? Well... let me think...
The girl appears to have mistaken Ayla for a staff member coming to inquire about guest satisfaction. She presses the manga copy against her forehead, struggling to find the right words.
I just feel so happy reading it... The author spends like four whole pages showing how the heroes transform and kick the villain's butt in the end. The first time I read it, I was totally blown away...
And... Well, I guess I'm kinda jealous. Those main characters, they never back down from the challenges they face, and always chase after their dreams... I find them so charming and likable.
Somehow... they remind me of someone I really admire.
I was just thinking maybe I could become someone like that too... Ah, I mean, the story is also really interesting! Not too complicated or too basic.
Realizing she's getting carried away, the girl hastily returns to talking about the manga, yet fails to hide the hint of dreariness in her voice.
As I read it, I couldn't help but think, "If only this could happen in real life."
Ayla has no idea about what this F.O.S. freshman has been through or what kind of reality she is trying to escape by coming here.
But she likes the manga. She enjoys this childish and naive story.
The intent Ayla held during the creation of this manga resonates with her.
Perhaps at this moment, they have yet to recognize what they are truly seeking.
Even though Ayla understands that the fervor blazing in her heart may die out tomorrow.
To make a story more intriguing, creators tend to add a lot of fictional content.
But a story is never just a "story."
Ayla walks closer to the girl and raises a hand to guide her gaze.
She shows her the many other creators like herself in this salon, each standing proudly in front of their works, striving to convey their thoughts to the viewers.
It is the creator's decision how a story unfolds. Whether it's the warrior defeating the malicious dragon, the prince marrying the princess, justice prevailing against evil, or the bard singing praise of the hero... these are all fictional plots, but the intentions hidden behind are never fictional.
Perhaps in real life, the warrior couldn't defeat the malicious dragon, or the princess didn't see a prince come to her rescue...
Yet people can craft such tales because they never relinquish those dreams.
...
Even if... those dreams can't come true in real life?
Right.
No matter how hard to achieve or how childish the dream is—
No matter the inevitable failures one will face on this path and the non-existent results that await one—
Even then, I think these "idiots" who work hard toward these unrealistic goals—
Shine the brightest of all!
Heave-ho...
As the last day of the exhibition comes to its end, Ayla walks out of the salon while holding the remaining 49 copies of the manga in her arms.
As a Construct, she can easily manage the weight, but the copies pile up, obstructing her vision and making it a bit cumbersome to walk.
Ah, it's you. Thanks for the help.
A hand reaches out, relieving her of half the weight. Ayla recognizes the owner as none other than the commandant she spoke to earlier.
Did you find that person you were looking for?
So you don't know her real name... It's okay. I'm sure you will find her eventually.
Yup, I'm going to move them back to my studio.
I'll create a better one next time and share it with more people.
Both in Babylonia and on Earth.
Sure thing. Do you want my autograph?
Come on, where's your sense of humor? Is this how you talk to your penfriend?
You're a commandant of the Task Force, right? I'll keep that in mind.
I will be keeping an eye on you. I can't wait to see what kind of story unfolds in your life.
My name is... Wait.
Actually, I'm not going to tell you right now.
You'll find out once I become the biggest name in the WGAA.
When you come to me with this manga later, I'll give you my autograph, if you ask nicely!
The film comes to an end.
...This is what you want to see?
She questions the darkness before her.
...
A figure emerges from behind the curtain and approaches her.
Why did Icarus fly toward the sun?
Did you spend all this effort reading the memory in my M.I.N.D. through this device just to have a myth discussion with me?
The mechanoid pays no heed to Ayla's teasing and continues to speak in a low voice.
They had already crafted wings capable of aiding their escape from the labyrinth. They had discovered how to defy gravity and realize humanity's ultimate dream.
But why did he fly toward the sun, knowing it would lead him to his demise?
Myths are narratives created by humans. They fear the sun yet still hold an insatiable desire to conquer it, hence the story of Icarus.
He could've flown all the way to Sicily, safe and steady, but he didn't choose to do it.
Then, was it even possible for Icarus to conquer the sun?
...I don't know. The storyteller didn't say it, did they?
But the storyteller must've already held an answer in their heart.
Maybe, but the storyteller is dead, so that answer is nowhere to be found.
...No. You know the answer... You will know it.
The traces you've left on your paths and the traces we've left on ours have revealed everything.
I will be waiting at the end I've reached.
I will be waiting... for you to give me that answer.
