Chương 49: Worldline α: Untranslatable Hatred

The flying Black Ship, Irohamaru, glided through the pitch-black sky of a mud-covered Kyoto, descending toward the exact midpoint between the Satsuma and Choshu clan manors—a highly classified meeting location. In actual history, this was the residence of Komatsu Tatewaki, the legendary stage where Sakamoto Ryoma was supposed to broker the historic Satsuma-Choshu Alliance. But the place no longer retained the form of a manor. Space itself was fracturing.

As if an invisible wall had been erected right through the center of the estate, the landscapes on the right and left sides were distinctively, irreversibly mismatched.

"... What in the hell is this?" Standing on the deck, RYOMA bit clean through his cigar. His usually boisterous, larger-than-life expression completely froze. The right side—the Satsuma faction. It was engulfed in a burning, violent "red" digital noise. Standing at its center was a colossal giant of a man, built like a fortress. [Saigo Takamori]. Yet, his form was unstable. Rage vented from his entire body like pressurized steam, causing his very silhouette to glitch and blur erratically.

The left side—the Choshu faction. It was ruled by a freezing, piercing "blue" noise. Standing at its center was a strikingly handsome man with eyes as sharp as daggers. [Katsura Kogoro]. He remained as motionless as an ice sculpture, but his presence sharpened the surrounding air into a razor-thin lattice of absolute tension.

"Saigo! Katsura!" RYOMA leaped down from the ship, forcing himself directly into the dead space between the two.

"Hold your horses! This ain't the damn time to be fighting each other! Kyoto—hell, the whole country of Japan is sinking into the abyss!" But neither man looked at RYOMA. They stared solely at each other, their eyes locked in an ancient, blood-deep vendetta. 『■■■■■——ッ！！ 』 Saigo opened his mouth. But what erupted from his throat wasn't the Japanese language. It was a deafening, bass-heavy digital static—the sound of a blown-out speaker screaming at maximum volume. 『●●●●●…… 』 Katsura responded.

His voice was a high-frequency, glass-shattering screech. Communication wasn't just failing. The sounds they produced weren't even being recognized by the system as the speech of the same living species.

"W-What are they saying?! What's wrong with them?!" Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. As I clamped my hands over my ears to block out the noise, Yari stared at his terminal with a face painted in sheer desperation.

"It's a [Protocol Failure]!" Yari shouted over the din.

"The future 'division data' is accelerating their mental corruption! It's exactly like social media in the 21st century. Closed off inside their own echo chambers, consuming only the data they want to believe, they can no longer perceive someone with a different opinion as a human being. To them, the other side is just an incomprehensible monster!" It was the Tower of Babel. Humans struck by divine wrath, their languages shattered and scattered. To Saigo, Katsura appeared as a "blue demon."

To Katsura, Saigo was a "red beast." In this state, there could be no handshakes. There was only slaughter.

"I said, cut it out!" RYOMA fired his dual Link Guns. Bashun! Bashun! The projectiles of condensed light struck Saigo and Katsura square in the chest. Under normal parameters, this would forcefully sync their consciousness and mandate mutual empathy. However... Sizzle... The bullets of light struck a powerful, absolute wall of rejection cloaking the two men—an AT Field of pure emotional denial—and dissolved into harmless wisps of smoke.

"It got deflected?!" RYOMA's eyes widened in shock.

"My Grand Wash didn't even leave a scratch...? Just how damn stubborn have these two become?!" 『■■■■■ (You treacherous vermin)! 』 Saigo roared, raising a massive arm thick as a tree trunk. Cloaked in red noise, his limb expanded to monstrous proportions. 『●●●●● (Ignorant savage)! 』 Katsura coldly drew his katana, its blade extending as it coated itself in absolute-zero frost. BOOOM!! The two colossal forces collided, unleashing a localized shockwave that instantly pulverized the surrounding manor into kindling.

Even RYOMA was blown off his feet, rolling violently across the dirt.

"Guh...! Dammit, I can't find an opening! I don't know a damn way to negotiate with people who won't even speak the same language!" Was this the end of the line? Even Ryoma, the greatest negotiator in history, was utterly powerless when words lost their meaning. No one was willing to listen to the other's voice. Everyone just screamed their own version of justice while completely erasing the existence of their opponent.

It was a perfect miniature of the "society of a hundred million armchair critics" we lived in back in the year 2300—a systemic pathology this nation had been quietly suffering from for centuries.

"... I'll go." On trembling legs, I took a step forward.

"Kataru-kun?!" Yari gasped.

"Don't do it, kid! You'll get vaporized!" RYOMA yelled.

"No. It's not that they can't understand each other." Using the bamboo sword as a cane, I began to walk directly into the howling tempest of digital noise.

"They're just terrified to listen. They're terrified that if they actually learn about the other side, they might have to admit they were wrong... So they're plugging their ears and screaming at the top of their lungs!" I understood them perfectly. Because I had spent my entire life doing the exact same thing in the corner of a classroom, completely shutting out the noise of the world. Rejection isn't an act of aggression. It's an act of defense.

"Saigo-san! Katsura-san!" I threw myself right into the dead-center between the two. From my left and right, red and blue murderous intent pierced my skin like needles. My stomach twisted. I felt like vomiting. But the hand gripping that bamboo sword was blazing hot.