The Break is a veritable wonder: as soon as I shifted into this inexplicable dimension, it was as if someone immediately swept through my mind with a broom, clearing away the excessive clutter. Then, after standing motionless for nearly a minute, merely staring at the monitor that was frozen with images of young people framed in black, I returned to reality. Much as I yearned to rush there instantly, doing so in just my underwear wouldn't be the most judicious course of action.
Of course, in the projection state, my appearance remains the same, regardless of my attire in the real world. This won't affect my appearance in the Break. That's true. But what if I need to materialize in the physical world? No, wearing only briefs is certainly not an ideal option.
I changed into my motorcycle suit, placing some padding underneath it to disguise Izao's actual physique - a simple additional masquerade, but effective nonetheless. I'm grateful that I don't feel the summer heat in the Break, and if I have to transition to the physical world and be seen by others, I hope it won't be for long and I won't have time to perspire.
After examining myself in the mirror and making a few adjustments, I slipped back into the Break. This dressing ritual, such a habitual activity, somewhat soothed my mind. It cooled it down.
Anger, teetering on the brink of rage, was still seething within me, but I was now able to manage it and think with sufficient clarity. Initially, I had wanted to exit the house via the window to save time, but now I took the usual path: first down, then through the basements of neighboring buildings, next through the underground tunnels, and only after exiting my neighborhood did I reemerge on the surface.
Today's events have starkly emphasized that secrecy is not a luxury, but a critical necessity.
The sensation is horrific! Not even the projection shields me from this wave of nausea. My nerves are stretched taut. Nevertheless, my current state is quite understandable. A terrorist attack that affected those I knew isn't something people frequently encounter. Although, the primary shock hit me when I recognized the girl in the photo - not her projection or Break Knight pseudonym, but her actual image.
Amanda. From her interactions on the BKDW forum, she seemed entirely different. I would never have guessed that Amanda and Jeanne, the girl I met at the anime cafe, were one and the same. That rare instance when I found someone agreeable in both online and offline interactions. Young, beautiful, resolute, with a keen sense of humor - and now she's no more.
The demise of the other Knights, Thomas, Kraas, and Poppy, affected me somewhat less. All three were young, practically men. More accurately, men without the "practically" - they fought, bearing their chests against the most extraordinary and dreadful entities of the Break. Their deaths, especially under such circumstances, are unquestionably tragic, but they were warriors, death was always at their doorstep. I understand that Jeanne was also a Knight, and it doesn't matter to the Break whether you're a guy or a girl: once chosen, you're a Knight. But this comprehension does nothing to mitigate my fury.
What a fool I've been! I thought of myself and those like me as virtually invulnerable; the only fear from the physical world being an unexpected bullet to the head. How could I have overlooked toxic substances? No, not common ones - even potassium cyanide doesn't kill instantly, and choking, one could still manage to escape into the Break. But there are other poisons: some can lull you to sleep unnoticed, you close your eyes, never to wake again. Perhaps it was something similar that was used in the attack on BKDW.
The abilities granted by the Break enable me to quickly uncover these details. It's enough to arrive on the scene, observe the police at work, read the reports, and listen in on conversations without exposing myself in reality.
As it turns out, I'm not the only one so "clever."
A few blocks away from Equality Square, I spotted the first Knight: he was sitting on the edge of a rooftop. His projection was familiar to me; I'd encountered him during the last Breakthrough in Wilflaes. The closer I ran to the city's central square, the more Knights I noticed. Many of them noticed me too. That's alright. If they wish to, they'll approach. Hiding is not on my agenda today.
Damn Eshin! When I first read the ultimatum, I didn't take their threats seriously. I forgot that this world isn't my home, and it operates by a different set of societal rules, more akin to the late seventeenth century on my Earth. More accurately, I was fully aware of this intellectually but still refused to believe it.
How much of what transpired is my fault? Would anything have changed if I had revealed information on the Korean avengers earlier? What if I had done it on my first visit to the restricted part of the site? I have no clue. On one hand, I did spill everything, and there was enough time before the attack for the special services to verify my claims and pass on the information to the relevant people. Yet, the attack on BKDW still occurred. It seems Eshin wasn't content with the information they were given. They demanded the spilled blood of the Knights in retribution, nothing less. Perhaps they didn't believe in the accidental demise of those who annihilated the Pest clan, their vassal. Judging by their post-attack message, that seems to be the case. Nevertheless, if you look at it from a different perspective, I am at fault. I revealed everything too late; many leads could have been lost, concealed, or deliberately destroyed.
Stop! Now is certainly not the time for self-flagellation. Maybe I made a mistake. But there are no people who don't make errors, and the question is what one does when they acknowledge these mistakes and their consequences.
What will become of BKDW after such a blow? Will it disintegrate or endure? Regardless of what I thought about this organization, which is in many ways government-operated, I admit it was performing a necessary function. It united, acted as a nucleus, offered reassurance, and was the vanguard against Breakthroughs. Additionally, members of the organization received training, which is already significant. The dissolution of BKDW will come at a great cost to all the Break Knights of Wilflaes during the next Breakthrough.
No matter how much I strive to think well of people, everyone prioritizes their own interests first. I am living proof of that. There is one person who could prevent BKDW from falling apart and vanishing. That person is me - the only "adult" Knight, the only raig with two blades, the people's hero of the capital, the possessor of the Break's Golden Gift. Despite all my claims, some even continue to believe that I am that legendary First Raig. If I reveal myself, appear before the people, and accept responsibility, the remaining Knights will follow me. Not all, but many, enough to revive BKDW and perhaps even strengthen it.
A sound plan...
Which, of course, I won't carry out...
Because for that, I would need to become an open Break Knight. I would have to disclose the identity of Izao and the fact that I'm a reincarnate. Of course, I could remain silent about my past life in a different world, but that's just a minor detail.
If I were twenty years younger in spirit, things might be different. Perhaps. But now, I won't do it. I understand too well the weight and responsibility that would fall upon my shoulders. It's not so much that it frightens me. The point is different. To excel at something, you must love the task. Under pressure, if necessary, one can manage "something", but it won't be what's required. Besides, the local Knights must resolve their issues without the intervention of an outsider. More precisely, with his assistance, but not at his expense.
Yes, I'm not a hero and I don't wish to be one. The conditions of my resurrection compel me to defend this world against Breakthroughs. My conscience and principles instilled in me during my early childhood by my parents also drive me to certain actions that can be interpreted as heroic. All of this is true, but my personal desires are quite different. No, I don't wish to live a gray, inconspicuous life, but the role of a heroic savior is also far from my dreams.
Nonetheless, I might have to shoulder this burden if there's no alternative. But I'll reserve that for a last resort and avoid this route as long as possible.
Interestingly, Purity remains silent during these thoughts, like a fish flung onto the ice. And I think I understand why. Izao, heroic in his thoughts and dreams, never envisioned himself as a leader. A fearless Knight - yes, a king - no. So the unbreakable blade remains silent - it has nothing to "say."
Among the known Break Knights, only Maya remained in Wilflaes. I hope she's alive, as her name wasn't listed in the death reports. With her popularity, she's the one who can serve as a beacon that others would follow no less willingly than me. This girl, one of the first raigs in the world, is charming, skillful as a Knight, and many young men would be simply unable to abandon her to handle all the troubles alone.
I can't fathom what she's experiencing right now. She is younger than me and had interacted much longer with the deceased. Perhaps they were friends. How profoundly has this loss affected her? If even I can barely contain my rage and am ready to pulverize and slay any rat man I happen to encounter... Given her temper and fiery nature, has she gone "breaking bad"?
It's crucial, it's absolutely necessary to speak to her before she causes trouble. And it's even better to persuade her not to converse with me but to seek Hyungang Tu Chong. The girl seems to hold this monk in genuine respect. And one should not overlook the Maker's abilities.
By the time I reached Equality Square, I already had a preliminary action plan. Or rather, not so much a plan as action priorities.
First: Gather as much information as I can about Eshin's attack.
Second: Locate Maya.
Third: Converse with Tu Chong, preferably alongside Maya.
Three-and-a-half: Calm the capital's Break Knights, if possible, to prevent them from resorting to extremes.
The last one, however, I can do only if they ask me, as it's not the best time to impose my views on others. And something tells me that this will indeed happen. Perhaps it's the inquisitive glances the city raigs are casting at me.
There were many Break Knights around the square, despite the early hour and summer holidays. I counted thirty-four projections - oddly, most are sitting on rooftops and simply watching. Only five are on the square itself in the Break, overseeing the work of the police.
There's also a large crowd of ordinary people in the square. Most are not bureaucrats or employees rushing to work. They're just simple ordinary folks: young and old, men and women, parents and children. Many with flowers, some with candles. A significant crowd, no fewer than ten thousand, and they keep arriving in waves.
At first glance, the police who've cordoned off the former museum building are behaving appropriately: they're polite to the point of courteousness, no one is being pushed away, and no special equipment is in sight. Though, they're not letting anyone beyond the barriers. But people aren't particularly keen on crossing anyway - no one is eager to joke with poisonous substances. Closer to the entrance, several vans are parked in the characteristic orange color of the chemical defense troops, and they deter the curious more effectively than any water cannons.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Observing the quiet and growing crowd, I only now comprehend the esteem in which the Break Knights are held in the city. I also realize that if someone now were to yell, "Attack the rats!" then it would all turn into an actual rampage. The worst part of this scenario is that the shapeshifters would suffer little in this situation, while ordinary people working for them would bear the brunt of the onslaught. As far as I understand, not many rat clans work for Eshin. The rest, which form a substantial number in Wilflaes, have no connection, even indirectly, to what has happened. Though I admit that some rats deserve a thrashing, their second appearance often accurately reflects these shapeshifters' true nature. The downside is that such a rampage would be indiscriminate, and its outcomes would not be so straightforward. Anyways, I'm focusing on the wrong things - the crowd and their reaction is not my concern; the relevant authorities should manage that.
A question worth pondering: why do all the raigs in and around the square avoid the BKDW building and keep their distance? Are they genuinely fearful of the remnants of poisonous gases? This doesn't add up - in the Break, we are shielded from such influences of the material world.
In two leaps, I make it to the roof.
Ah! This, or rather "who," is the reason.
In the center of the roof, leaning on an antenna, with a sword on his knees, sits Crixus. Why is he here? He's not a local, is he? I didn't think he made such a strong impression that even the most curious wouldn't dare to approach him.
Ah, no, as soon as I perched on the parapet, many of the Break Knights, who had only been observing from a distance, bolted from their "seats" and headed our way.
And why are those two here? They should have stayed at home! They're even waving at me. Well, at least they aren't shouting any welcoming words. I waved back at the Padawans.
"Tell me," I say to Crixus without wasting time on a greeting.
"What?" The eyes of the failed shapeshifter are somehow vacant, even shocked.
"It appears you've been sitting here for a while. What have you gleaned during this time?"
"Huh?" If we were in reality, I'd slap him.
Something is clearly wrong with the guy, he's in such a state of stupor as if his best friends had died, and that's definitely not the case.
"So you just sat there and did nothing?" I growl at him, barely holding back the urge to draw my blades.
"What for?" He looks up at me, his expression vacant. "Why? Aren't we protecting everyone? Ordinary people, sensums, nobles, scum... Aren't we the shield of this world? Why did they do it?"
None of my words will help in this situation, and he doesn't need other people's answers. He was raised in a clan, so he should comprehend the logic. But for some reason, he doesn't. He sincerely and wholeheartedly rejects the answer he knows.
The situation is worse than I initially thought. The concern is not just what Crixus is saying, but the fact that at least seven Break Knights, who had already hopped onto the roof behind me, heard him. In addition, judging by the breaths I hear behind me, those who are standing there largely agree with what was said.
Why do I have to handle all of this? I'm not a psychotherapist, nor a leader; it's challenging enough for me to mentor two Padawans. I used to be responsible for myself and no one else. And yet, I must say something. If the crowd loses control and wreaks havoc on the city, that's one thing. We'll manage that.
If all the Break Knights now decide to avenge all the rats in the capital without discretion, the death toll will rise into the hundreds. And a war will break out, a colossal conflict between the raigs and all the shapeshifters. Why all? Because all clans are interlinked, some more than others, but they form a distinct caste. Among themselves, they can clearly differentiate between noble and trash clans. But this distinction is internal, and if the Knights start to indiscriminately attack everyone, the shapeshifters will present a united front. They will have no other choice - if they tolerate such a massacre, their power will be severely undermined. Or maybe even worse. Young raigs will become reckless and proclaim: "We're the authority here now! By the right of the strong!".
Is it not possible? No, it is possible… Alas… To me, it appears to be a fairly realistic scenario.
A horrifying scenario.
In the initial stages of such a "civil war", the raigs would undoubtedly triumph. They might even kill the entire ruling elite and start exterminating the clans. Most of the Break Knights hail from ordinary families. For centuries, ordinary people have been subject to shapeshifters, who see themselves as the highest caste by the Right of Blood. However, just because things have been this way for a long time doesn't mean everyone is content with such subservience. As it happened once upon a time on my Earth, the noble class's power was overturned with massive bloodshed, so it's possible to repeat the same scenario here. With its own peculiarities, of course, and yet...
Moreover, even by this world's standards, the Break Knights are within their rights. They risk their lives in Breakthroughs. They protect everyone.
But now... Even if the raigs win... Even then... The world will drown in the blood of shapeshifters, and they will be annihilated. But what happens next? A complete rupture in power chains and paralysis of all structures. The incidental casualties would number in the hundreds of millions. And that's no exaggeration. States will disintegrate as they stand. The entire governing hierarchy, currently shaped by the clan and vassal families, will vanish. Money, backed by people's faith in the existing power, will become nothing more than useless paper. Factories, power plants, hospitals, transportation, and much more will grind to a halt because the control threads will be lost. The world will be hurled back into the past by at least half a century. Indeed, millions would perish in the first decade following this redistribution of power.
But is this clear to the young ones who have gained the powers of the Break and are ready to risk their lives daily? Would such grim prospects of a theoretical future have stopped me at their age? The honest answer is: I don't know.
Additionally, there's a specific nuance. If the vengeance of Wilflaes' Break Knights is directed solely at Eshin and their vassals, the world will accept it quite passively. An eye for an eye, blood for blood - a formula quite comprehensible to all locals. If you possess the strength for revenge and aren't afraid of the consequences, you are within your rights. Of course, all of this is veiled by law, talk, and contrived restrictions that vindicate the avengers more than they pose real obstacles. Naturally, all these rules were originally devised for the elite - the shapeshifters. But what's to stop these unwritten rules from applying to the raigs?
However, the crux of the matter is that the Break Knights, unlike the shapeshifters, are not cut out for ruling. The reason is simple. Every movement requires a leader. Suppose one emerges among the Knights and seizes power in the country - declaring himself a king, ruler, despot, dictator; the title doesn't matter. He takes the reins of power and... He dies in the next Breakthrough. The end. A fresh collapse, a new squabble, and this vicious cycle cannot be halted. More accurately, at the moment, I don't see a way out of this hypothetical magical spiral.
No, I don't favor the shapeshifters' dominance over ordinary people myself. I, as Izao, believe there is much unfairness in the current world order. Yes, it's true, but this doesn't justify a bloodbath and revolution based on the principle, "and then we will build our new world."[1] Moreover, recent trends clearly indicate that the power of shapeshifters is becoming increasingly nominal. These are merely hints, but I have something to compare with. My perspective is shaped by the history of another world, and some details are apparent to me.
This layer of thought instantly fully formed in my head. There was no chain of reflections but more like a brief revelation - when the entire picture or part of it becomes clearly visible to you, here and now, without extensive comparisons and analysis.
The pause prolongs, and while my silence only lasts five seconds, even that is a lot. I feel time slipping through my fingers like sand. What behavioral strategy should I opt for? Should I attempt to reach them through reasoning? Bad choice. Wrong timing and missing prerequisites. Appeal to their conscience and nobility? It might not work. There's no time to deliberate. Of course, I could remain silent, but silence is also a kind of response. Nothing better springs to mind than to act "by contradiction."
"What for... Why..." I voice, not with surprise or a question, but rather with a hint of a smile. "You sound like a child. The answer is simple. Because they can. Because they wanted to. Because they deemed the reason sufficient. Do you really have nothing more pressing at the moment than trying to understand others' motives?"
My words hit home. Crixus, who had appeared confused a moment ago, sprang to his feet, clutching his gross messer tightly.
"Because they can?" His voice is muffled and filled with anger. "Because they wanted?!" The sword in his hands carves an arc, slicing through the spectral air. "I can, too!" His eyes are fixed behind me. I hear the sound of drawn blades from the others. "We can! And we..."
I don't let him finish. I interrupt abruptly.
"You can." I turn around. My gaze sweeps across the sealed visors of the raigs, frozen with drawn weapons in their hands. "You will! And you can't be stopped!" Instead of drawing my own sword, I stretch out my hand and snap my fingers. Surprised by this gesture, the Knights step back from me. "Just as an ordinary person can't resist a shapeshifter, shapeshifters can't resist us. So, go ahead! Take your revenge! Kill! Become just like them... Strike down everyone indiscriminately. Perhaps by chance, you will stumble upon someone truly responsible for this. Go! What are you waiting for?! Kill hundreds, destroy thousands, just to accidentally reach one who is truly guilty!"
Looking confused, they glance at each other. Even Crixus lowers his sword.
"I am not like them," I continue. "And I refuse to become like them. I am a shield. I am a sword. But I am not a murderer. No, this doesn't mean I will forget. I am memory." My sword, "Word," is unsheathed, the tip pointing upwards. "If need be, my blade will not waver. Knights are not killers. Knights are warriors. And... Sometimes... Executioners!" Even Crixus flinches at my last word. "But I will not execute everyone indiscriminately. My punishment will only fall on those who are guilty. This is my decision. You must make yours." The sword returns to its sheath. "Those who wish to exact revenge on everyone... I don't want to see you here in three minutes. Those who make a different decision... we have a lot of work ahead..."
[1] TLN: a quote from the USSR anthem, "We will destroy this world of violence, down to the foundations, and then we will build our new world.", an interpretation of "The Internationale" (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Internationale)