Ch.175

Author: "Nikke's release has finally reached its one-year anniversary, hasn't it?

And soon, it will also be the first anniversary since the initial post of this work... I would like to express my gratitude once again to all the readers who have been with us so far.

By the way, the commander of the 1st-anniversary event's Goddess Squad is incredibly handsome. And Vice Commander Anderson of the new chapter, that's just cheating, isn't it? (It's well done. Can't you take off more?)"

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"──Commander!!"

In the lobby of the above-ground base Eden, a high-pitched voice resonates in the spacious area, conveying a sense of joy.

It seems that her hurried footsteps, as she ran over, were slightly delayed and echoed through the space.

With flaxen hair flowing, Anis rushes towards him and embraces the tall commander with momentum. If he were an ordinary human, he might have been blown away, but her commander effortlessly catches her.

"──You're safe!"

" Somehow... I never expected to end up fighting a Tyrant-class, almost dying..."

"──Eh?"

What did he just say?

Perhaps there was a malfunction in his auditory sensors. With arms wrapped around her waist, supporting her as she hangs, he gently places her on the floor while letting out a sigh-mingled remark, leaving Anis momentarily stunned.

"──Major!!"

While Anis remains frozen in incomprehension, this time Papillon rushes towards Moore, embracing his left arm, enveloped in muscles suitable for handling Rapture weaponry.

"──I was really worried! Are you injured? I'll, you know, give you a blow-kiss."

"...I appreciate the concern, but..."

A quiet figure approaches from behind her – acknowledging the presence of his disciple, he tries to suggest stepping away, but he is a step too late.

Neon leans in close to Papillon's ear, deliberately exhaling breath. Immediately, she lets out a cute voice and releases her grip on his left arm.

What follows is a pointless argument between the powerhouse of firepower and the vixen.

Deciding to leave them be for a while, he directs his deep brown eyes toward the excellent squad leader who commands the squad.

"Fuuh....I'm glad you're safe."

"Commander. Yes... I'm also relieved you're unharmed."

"Thank you... still, everyone faced trials, right?"

"Yes."

As he inquires about Rapi, he rummages through the pouch of his body armor. Shaking the retrieved soft pack lightly, he places a cigarette in his mouth.

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──There aren't any "No Smoking" signs anywhere, so it should be fine.

In addition, with this much, the air conditioning system should be excellent.

Ignoring any objections, Moore lights up his cigarette with an oil lighter, and purple smoke begins to waft.

"...How about your trial?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. We each took it individually. That little one with the shield suddenly told us to defeat them, and then we could proceed."

"...The little one?... Oh."

Seems like the stiffness has worn off. Moore recalls the examiner of Anis's trial, and for a brief moment, the name caused a headache, but he remembers who it refers to.

In that interrogation—or rather, discussion—scene, Nikké, who had been hiding in Haran's shadow.

"The trial was annoying, but what really got on my nerves was her teasing."

"...Is she always like that?"

"Yeah, it pissed me off big time. And she even provoked me. If Commander-sama were there, he would've probably retorted back."

──Is that how I'm perceived?

It's not like he has a twisted personality that can only find satisfaction by provoking someone all the time—probably. Most likely.

However, since this is his subjective view, it might not be very reliable.

"...Oh, right! Commander-sama, you said your trial involved fighting a Tyrant, right!? How did you survive!?"

"Could it be, Master... did you master the ultimate firepower in the midst of the crisis?"

"...Unfortunately, I haven't mastered any ultimate technique. Unfortunately. Like I mentioned earlier, I was on the brink of death. And I was fighting a Blacksmith, too."

"A Blacksmith... you mean during that time?"

Rapi recalls the mission where they first engaged a Tyrant-class individual when Moore took command of the squad.

Returning a nod to her, he calmly explains how, in dire straits, he managed to defeat a Tyrant-class Rapture, twisting the details.

"Eh? Did you use that medicine?"

"Yeah, I used it."

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Anis involuntarily looks up at his head.

Is it just her imagination? No, it's not her imagination.

──The white hair has increased slightly—though he recalls that when they first met and during the mission that led to the encounter with the Blacksmith, his hair was black.

How about that?

Currently, white and black hair are mixed in equal proportions, giving the appearance of gray hair from a distance.

"...That medicine... is it really okay?"

"Especially for now, there's nothing wrong. It should be fine. ──Anis, don't make that face. It ruins your beautiful expression."

A troubled expression doesn't suit her. Moore lightly strokes her flaxen hair with one hand, then takes out a portable ashtray and taps the accumulating ash from his cigarette.

"But, you know... it still seems strange. Every time Commander-sama uses that medicine..."

"...It's just the fact that white hair increases, right?"

It might be a bit concerning to have noticeable premature white hair at his age, but it's a trivial issue.

"...If it bothers you, consider using hair dye for white hair. Since the trials were individual, I assume Papillon also took one?"

"Yeah... that's right. My trial was a bomber flying in the sky..."

Papillon, holding Moore's battle-worn combat uniform, sniffs and shares how challenging her trial was.

Even just imagining being constantly attacked while flying is a tough ordeal, but...

"...An unprotected bomber is an easy target, protected by a fighter plane. Am I the only one who thinks that?"

"...Major?"

"...No, it's nothing."

Not only Papillon but also Anis and Neon tilt their heads. He unintentionally blurted out something from his memory, but it seems it didn't resonate with them.

Communication is a tricky thing. Feeling the difficulty of it, Moore clears his throat lightly and changes the topic.

"...So, there's something I want to ask everyone."

"Oh... is it about the proposal?"

They all probably know. Anis, representing them, looks up at Moore, who is producing purple smoke, and when she asks, he nods.

"After going through such trials, putting people through a sieve, and in the end, saying 'Help me'... it's almost heartless, isn't it?"

Papillon straightforwardly and honestly utters words that would be difficult to completely deny. It's a merciless statement.

Nevertheless, it seems they all have their own thoughts on the matter. No one prompted a correction to that statement.

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Going back in time about an hour. Moore, who had just finished the tour of the above-ground base "Eden," followed Dorothy, the guide, to a corner of the garden.

"──Please have a seat."

There, garden tables and chairs were set up. White chairs were arranged facing each other, and on the garden table, there were two-tiered cake stands with colorful macarons neatly placed on them.

Prompted to sit down, he considers that it might be inappropriate in this attire, but unfortunately, he doesn't have suitable clothing to adhere to the proper dress code.

Resignedly, he at least unstraps his weapons, takes off the backpack and body armor he had on, leaving the leg holster on his right leg untouched. He places other weapons beside the chair and takes a seat.

Dorothy turns her back to him, efficiently preparing tea while speaking.

"──The time I guided you through Eden; how was it?"

"──If I were to give an honest impression... I keenly felt the technological and scientific gap with Ark."

Technology advanced more than half a century beyond Ark—similar to optical camouflage technology and simulation rooms, but far more advanced incubators.

Seeing and receiving explanations at every turn, Moore was also surprised.

"If you say you keenly felt it... does that mean, conversely, that was the only thing you felt?"

"...I'd appreciate it if you didn't put words in my mouth."

"Hehe... I apologize. ──Here you go. I hope it suits your taste."

Dorothy, with a smile on her face, places the cup on the saucer and serves it in front of him.

Returning a slight nod and expressing gratitude, Moore lifts the cup and takes a sip.

"──How is it?"

"──...My palate is quite simple. I feel sorry for only coming up with the cliché response that it tastes good."

"Your words are more than enough."

Seated across from him, Dorothy elegantly and refinedly sips her tea, showing familiarity. She exudes an atmosphere reminiscent of an upper-class young lady.

"──Mr. Moore. I would like to ask... how close was the paradise I showed you to the paradise you had imagined?"

"...How close..."

"Yes, that is what I am most curious about."

Without making unnecessary noise, Dorothy places her cup on the saucer and gazes at him across the table.

However, giving an immediate response was challenging.

"...There were points that I thought were different from what I imagined. However, there were also things that matched my imagination."

"That is?"

Dorothy urges him to continue, curious about what he means.

He shrugs slightly in response and tilts the cup he picked up, sipping the tea that exudes a rich aroma with a small tilt.

"──The tea you, a beauty like yourself, brewed was exquisite, and the apples were delicious as well. I imagine that the paradise or utopia you showed me is filled with such things. Just being able to taste a glimpse of it is satisfying."

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Words released in a low, calm voice in response. Unconcealed sincerity mixed with a hint of jest.

She is momentarily speechless, for it seemed as if she had heard similar words before, or someone was about to express them.

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──Dorothy

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A voice that left an impression, a low and calm male voice.

It resonated within her skull.

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──What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?

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──Eh?

Suddenly, she comes back to her senses.

In her line of sight, a young man resembling that person narrows his eyes inquisitively while holding a tea cup.

"...No, it's nothing. I apologize."

"...Is that so? ...But, don't push yourself. If you're not feeling well..."

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──Dorothy, don't overexert yourself

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"──Ah...!!"

No, it's different. It's not that person. That person──he died.

In that war, in that final operation, he became one of the fallen.

The ARK Commander before her, despite the strong resemblance, is a different person. It must be so.

Regaining composure, she coughs softly.

Again, she lifts the tea cup to her lips, displaying a relaxed demeanor.

"──May we move on to the important conversation?"

When she asks, the ARK Commander nods, prompting her to continue with sharp, narrowed eyes.

"You might have heard from Haran, but... I have been waiting for you to be here for a long time."

"...Hmm... Being awaited by a beautiful woman like yourself is certainly an honor for a man.──May I have one?"

A light-hearted comment──it's similar. The ARK Commander, who is almost a living replica of her past commander, looks at the cake stand. Dorothy is asked if it's okay to pick up one of the macarons arranged there, and she nods.

──Nevertheless, it's different.

He was not particularly fond of sweets. While not exactly avoiding them, whenever he ate, he would always furrow his brow deeply—yes, just like that.

"──...Didn't it suit your taste?"

"No, it's not that, but... sorry. Could I have another cup?"

After picking up a macaron and showing the movement of minimal chewing, he seemed to have finished all the remaining tea in the cup.

As he requests a refill of tea, deep vertical furrows appear on his forehead— a scene she had witnessed somewhere before.

Stunned, Dorothy accepts the saucer with the dry cup, rises, and moves to the side of the cart behind her. She pours tea from the pot.

"──Did you prefer coffee instead?"

"...If I had to choose..."

Then let's prepare coffee this time. Though not particularly knowledgeable about coffee—this thought flashed through Dorothy's mind for a moment, causing her to pause briefly.

──Wait, what was that?

The words "next time" or "now"──what could they mean?

Luckily, he has his back turned.

He won't be able to see the murky eyes, the thoughts passing through her mind, or the bitter expression of genuine contempt that briefly appeared on her face.

Calm down your mind──take a deep breath.

Phew, she exhales a sigh, holding the saucer.

Returning to her seat, Dorothy exhales a sigh and returns the saucer to the cart.

Again, steamy tea returns to his side, and after a slight nod of acknowledgment, the cup is picked up.

"──The reason I've been waiting for you is... because I believed that you are the only key capable of resolving the current crisis that Eden is on the verge of."

She weaves the prepared words. Seated in the chair, behaving elegantly while picking up the cup, Dorothy tries to interpret the meaning of the words directed towards her—there's the figure of Ark's commander furrowing his brow, deep in thought. 

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──Ahhhh.... he looks very alike.

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Author: Is the commander of the Goddess Unit really that person... Well, it has been suspicious since the beginning of the release, but then, who is the person who seems to be the commander of the Goddess Unit in this work? (Who could it be... I don't even know as the writer, so I'll refrain from explicitly stating.)