Does the mechanical girl dream of the Messiah?

Maybe there will be another me, but that won’t be me after all. The stubborn playwright often thinks like this.

The weak, fragile, ostentatious, arrogant and domineering playwright is as fragile as the moon in the water, which would shatter if it were shaken even slightly.

——But, at least in the end, I finally danced with her.

This is not a bad thing.

Rather, it was really great. So great that it made me want to laugh.

The power core has stopped functioning, all parts of the body are close to being damaged due to overload, and the mind is constantly collapsing like a sinking ship.

Even so, she stretched out her fingers, which were only black skeletons left, and gently wiped away the tears from the corners of the girl's eyes.

"Welcome back, Leah."

"Well... I'm back, Sister Lusa."

It's so sad, so sad that I want to cry out loud.

The girl named Leah simply hugged the woman named Lusa gently, and as if in response to her gentle smile, she used the remaining strength in her body to raise the corners of her mouth and reveal a happy smile.

...Lost signal...Disconnected...

...Confirmed that the command-specialized elite puppet "Opera House" is offline...Execute the instructions set in advance for this situation...Confirmed, the conditions are met, the instructions can be carried out...Confirmed, the central control terminal on the [Gleipnir] ship has been touched...Passed the authority authentication, connected to the ship's network, confirmed to have the highest authority...Execute the command: [Overload the energy system]...Execute the command: [Reverse the energy of the entire ship]...

...Good night, command specialized elite puppet "Opera House", good night, bombardment specialized elite puppet "Arbitrator"...

…………Zizi…………Process aborted…………

……

…………

........................

"That's it. Father's promise was completely ineffective. We should take care of each other from now on... Miss Civilian Elite Puppet without a code name?"

"……Um……"

"You are so timid, my lovely lady. Oh, sorry, I am so rude. Isn't it a bit frivolous to call you 'cute'? But I can't help it. I seem to have always been regarded as 'frivolous' and 'unreliable'. Of course, I don't mean in terms of emotions. Other elite puppets are not used to my wording. I really hope they can watch classical opera!"

"No, no...I'm fine..."

"So, Miss Nameless, do you have a code name?"

Leaning against the black iron wall, the "Opera House" crossed his arms casually, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the "elite puppet" who was sitting obediently in the seat, looking introverted and taciturn.

"Not yet. The official decision has been made. The production line I belong to has been cancelled, so I am the only one who produces this model now..."

"Really? That's right."

"'Opera House'... Miss... Really? We will be abandoned next... Right?"

"Hmm? Eh? What are you talking about?"

The "Opera House" couldn't help but face her, with an expression of surprise and astonishment on its face.

"You were sent here without knowing what was going to happen next? And with me?"

"Um... yes, I haven't heard anything, Miss 'Opera'. Do you know what's going on?"

"what……"

"Opera House" spread his hands helplessly.

"We will not be abandoned. We were created at a great cost, and will be sent to undergo militarization transformation, from civilian to military use, and then like other elite puppets, we will be sent to the front line as mercenaries at a good price. In other words, you and I are the poor actors who have beautiful dancing and singing skills but cannot even find a stable crew.

As for me, although my father never came to see me again, probably because he felt embarrassed, the staff in charge said that considering that I am good at data input and integrated analysis, I will be converted into a command-type elite puppet. As for you, unknown lady, you..."

The "Opera House" came over abruptly, picked up the arms and calves of the nameless elite puppet and observed them carefully, then circled around her body and gestured back and forth, doing very rude things. The nameless elite puppet did not show any clear resistance, but just tilted its head in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"Very good body, in my opinion, it is quite excellent, agile, elegant, and full of explosive power. You must be a dancer with great potential. Maybe you were originally an elite puppet of the 'dancer type'. Unlike me, such an excellent body as yours should be modified into a military puppet for frontline combat, dancing on the high platform called the battlefield."

“…Hmm…Is that so…”

"You don't look like you like it."

"Like it, huh? But we are puppets, we don't have any criteria like likes and dislikes..."

"No, of course there is."

Opera shook his finger.

"Although it is fun to plan the actors' scripts on a sand table, use artillery support as a spotlight, and treat the rain of bullets as an orchestra, I personally prefer to create, use paper, pen, ink, and typewriter, arrange letters and characters into words, use words full of passion and emotion to form articles, let elegant and gorgeous articles overlap into scripts, and let professional and excellent actors and experienced and familiar performers sweat for my immortal work——"

She sat next to the nameless puppet and showed a rare look of loss.

"--Even if I'm called a heartless puppet, a broken typewriter, even if no one appreciates me, even if I'm just entertaining myself, even if I can't create anything of value... I still want to create."

"Miss 'Opera'...?"

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. This kind of thing is fine anyway."

She seemed to be back to her usual self, as if she had been re-energized.

"If I'm rejected before my debut, there's nothing I can do. Since there won't be any audience from the beginning, there won't be any loss if I give up at this time. I'll just keep my script like that. After all, it's true that I'm just imitating the works of my predecessors, arranging and combining their words and ideas. Such a script can't really be called creation... So, I'll keep the situation without an audience and face the next job. Even if I don't like it, it's probably a job that is more suitable for me. It's gorgeous, heroic, splendid, and wonderful... right?"

"Do you like to create...?"

The nameless puppet curled up its body, put its heels on the edge of the seat, and reached out to hug its calves, as if unconsciously showing off its flexibility.

"I also like the feeling of dancing... although I have never tried it."

"haha, really?"

Opera chuckled.

"Will you dance for me, young lady?"

"I... don't have any experience, only the data stored in my mind."

"It doesn't matter. There's always a first time for this kind of thing."

She turned her head and looked at the nameless puppet that was transported to the modification factory with her. She smiled and stretched out her hand, as if inviting the other party to dance with her.

"Although you don't have a code name yet, but, please forgive me, can you give you a name?"

"name……?"

"My favorite playwright is Rosaline Éphayeret, the rose girl who shines in the endless sea. My name is Lusa, Lusa Éphayeret."

The girl who called herself Rosa, the elite puppet codenamed "Opera House", smiled from the bottom of her heart as if something good had happened to her.

"Would you allow me to call you 'Leah', my lovely lady?"

A long, long time, or maybe not that long.

Although not as old as the classical myths and legends, it is still forgotten by people. No one will look through the records, and no one will mention that little memory again.

It was a memory between the playwright and her dancer that was neither moving nor romantic.

This is also the preface to the first and last work in the life of the playwright.

Baroque of Iron and Blood

Chapter 5: Ending A small story that only exists in my heart

Everything is falling apart—

Whether it was light or shadow, dead objects or living things, touch or sight, metal or flesh, earth or sky - it seemed as if everything belonging to this world was collapsing.

It was just an illusion, an illusion caused by the over-expanded energy tearing the vision apart. The dry and hot wind blew, as if even the flesh and blood were being torn off the body. Even so, Lunicia still did not loosen her hands, and still did not put down the hilt of the white blade. Not only because another pair of hands was holding the back of her hands, even without this factor, Lunicia would still do this, because this is exactly what she decided to do, and this is exactly what she longed for and pursued.

Although this feat was accomplished with the help of countless people, countless souls, and countless years, this was indeed the first time that Lunicia had come up against an enemy of this level.

Swing the sword and cut it off.

With your own hands.

"------"

"------!"

Once again, I could clearly feel someone calling me, calling me with that familiar voice, not out of expectation and joy of victory, but out of concern and worry, calling me with that voice, but I couldn't hear it clearly in my ears, nor could I see the figure I longed for. Everything tangible was drowned by the light, and everything intangible was blown away by the storm. All I could see was the infinitely expanding and then shattering light, and the black shadow that was gradually shattering and returning to nothingness. All I could hear was the whistling sound of the wind along with the violent and overflowing energy.

——Are you happy?

"No."

——Are you proud?

"A little bit."

——Do you know the price?

"……Um."

——I don’t feel your anger.

“Maybe they’ve all burned up.”

——So, are you feeling sad?

"Yeah, yeah. Probably."

Why are you sad? If you really want to ask this question, I'm afraid even Lunicia herself can't give a decent and specific answer, so she didn't say such tactless words, no matter what she thought of Lunicia. Just kept silent, whether it was her or Lunicia, for a moment, in the scattered light, only the whistling wind remained.

Yeah, what should I be sad about?

Over the past thousands of years, countless lives have dissipated in this sky, being preyed on, assimilated, becoming part of this airship, becoming part of the shadow. Should we feel sad for their passing? The "Witch of the Blue Abyss" who bound the shadow with her body, turned her flesh and blood into a cage, and finally became inseparable from it, and finally dissipated with it, should we feel sad for her choice? Even if it is carried out at the same time as the strategy here, and it happens on the other side of the ship, so it cannot be seen, but we can still imagine their endings. The sisters who killed their loved ones, should the "Opera House" and the "Arbiter" feel sad for their demise?

Or should I feel sad about myself, who cannot be saved by anyone?

I have grown up, I have become stronger, I can already vaguely see that person's back, I can already see the possibility of catching up with her, I already have a close partner, I can already exert the power hidden in my weapon, I am no longer comparable to my former self -

But why, no one could be saved this time?

When I was in Myurand, I had saved, or perhaps succeeded in saving, the city and country that should have been destroyed by the disaster, the princess and the dragon who should have lost each other forever because of fate. I can indeed do something, with the help of others, and then do something for this broken world - in this way, perhaps I can hold my head high and say "this world does not need to be saved".

What if we look further ahead?

How much life has slipped through our fingertips, flowing away like sand?

"this is not your fault."

More than one person would say this to her.

However, such words actually have no meaning, they can only make her mood better for a while. She is an ordinary paladin. Even if she holds a rare artifact, even if she repeatedly creates miracles, even if she has reliable partners, even if she has a strong backer, she is still just an ordinary paladin - even if she does everything perfectly and maximizes her abilities, it seems that those who cannot be saved cannot be saved. She is not a messiah. As she said herself, she is just an ordinary paladin who can do nothing.

The world is still broken and will become more broken.

Lives are lost every day. Even if we can save those in front of us, what can we change?

What's more, in the end, I still failed to save him.

What she saw were not the smiles and praises from the people she had saved, but the arms that drooped helplessly before her eyes and the eyes that became dim in her sight.

——This is my fate to meet you.

Can hear her words.

——I can do nothing, I can’t change anything, I can’t save anything, and in the end I will be alone. This fate is like a curse and a blessing.

So clear, so close, as if she was lying on her shoulder, putting her lips to her ear, whispering softly. She was not there, but she seemed to be able to feel the temperature and moist breath leaking from her lips. This silent burning flame seemed to be tempting her, gently plucking Lunicia's heartstrings with its fingertips.

Click——click——

She was unable to finish the last sentence that lingered on her lips. The sound of shattering glass rang out again, breaking the silence that was only filled with the whistling wind. It drew Lunicia's lonely gaze and made her look back at the shadow that was gradually disintegrating and dissipating in the flow of light. The dark and featureless humanoid shell was now almost completely shattered, leaving only a half-body remnant that was still twitching slightly. In the broken part, all that could be seen was the sickly, fragile, but extremely pretty woman with lapis lazuli eyes and platinum-colored hair.

Her eyes, which were originally unfocused, gradually became clearer. Her originally gray pupils now reflected the figure of the White Knight, and the loss and sadness on his face.

She just gave a faint smile to such a holy warrior.

"Thank you."

As she spoke these words, her figure collapsed along with the shadow.

The shadow dissipated into invisible dust, and she turned into starry sky. From those few records and brief words, Lunicia could not judge what kind of person she was, had no way of knowing what kind of experiences she had had, and was unable to share her emotions and past. It was just that at this moment, in Lunicia's eyes, she was as bright and dazzling as the starry sky that she had only glimpsed once.

It was so dazzling that I even felt a little ashamed.

Whether it was wind, light, or shadow, everything was just something with a source. When that source dried up, the spring water that gushed out would naturally dry up, and then the cracked land would be exposed. Even without doing anything, the body was suspended in mid-air. The feeling was different from flying, but it was simply because the airship was falling, so there was a weightless effect.

The "Coffin of Belvoir", which served as the power reactor, stopped working and was completely shattered; the equipment of the entire ship was completely damaged due to overload and reverse energy operation; the extraordinary power dissipated from the ship, and there was no external force that could maintain the rusty structure corroded by the years... Or perhaps, even the ship itself was longing for an eternal end.