The Outer God Needs Warmth

While I was working on the Harvesting Period project after school…

Bern City eventually became a battleground.

At first…

People gathered in front of the city hall where the mayor worked, holding placards to protest. Some had already died, so there was justification for it. They protested, throwing objects like stones and bottles.

It was quite a peaceful demonstration.

In a world from faded memories, it might have been considered a violent protest, but that’s the strange part. Regular protests aren’t really that different from riots.

People struggle to change without spilling blood, so it’s actually the peacefulness that’s odd.

However, one protester demanded accountability.

Not just asking why the incident happened in Bern City, but questioning the issues with the Mechanical Puppets currently residing in the city, and why nothing was done despite warnings for ten years.

When this person was killed, the survivors began questioning publicly.

Instead of answers, fire came flying their way.

The police massacred the protesters.

Not just the men and women participating, but also passersby. Even children got caught up in it and died.

As someone had their head blown off and died instantly, those who panicked and tried to escape began to fight out of anger.

And there were many Harvesters among the protesters.

From those who could manipulate water like Victoria, to others who could control fire or even exert impossible strength; there was a wide variety of psychics.

Armed with Mechanical Puppets, the police faced off against the psychics in the protest.

In the beginning, the police, with their powerful Mechanical Puppets leading the charge, held the advantage. However, most people with secondary education in this world can use magic.

It’s not that there aren’t strong magicians among the police, but the number of protesters was greater. Plus, they had psychics on their side.

The balance of power actually leaned toward the protesters.

So as the enraged protesters pushed back, the police gradually began to falter and ultimately retreated within the city hall.

And then, problems arose.

It wasn’t the police’s Mechanical Puppets but industrial Mechanical Puppets that had sustained the world that began killing people.

As if ordered by someone, people were crushed by machines all over Bern City. Moreover, unlike the previous rampage, this time they weren’t just out of control. Simple Mechanical Puppets were fine, but the more intelligent ones, like those of the Cogni Transport Company, presented a serious problem.

Instead of rampaging like before, they targeted people deliberately.

Mechanical Puppets were killing people left and right. While there are kinds of stories in faded memories where machines rebel, this was different; it was people being ordered to kill other people.

Several taxis ignored nearby bystanders, heading specifically for certain homes, crashing into them before exploding, turning them into bloody messes.

They moved with clear intent.

Again, if you prohibit certain knowledge, it spreads widely.

What they want to keep hidden is this…

The current power units used in Mechanical Puppets are defective. They generate kinetic energy using magical power, but there’s an issue with the structure itself.

They absorb 100 magical powers, use 80, and expel 20. The problem lies with this 20. It’s clearly magical power, and it shows up as magical on the detectors. But when this 20 is gathered and used to make 100 and put into the machines, the machines won’t operate.

The data collected by the Harvesters refers to this as ‘heterogeneous magical power,’ which is a type of magical power unusable by machines or humans.

Of course, if left alone, it naturally returns to its original magical form, but in a place like Bern City, filled with power units, the accumulation happens much faster than the natural return of magical power.

It has surpassed the critical point.

At least, that’s what the data confirmed through the Harvesters shows.

There’s something similar in faded memories. The Great Smog of London. In terms of human error, this event is similar to the previous one.

Even searching through the memories of the Harvesters, it seems there haven’t been any incidents like this before; this is the first in Bern City.

The most developed city. Bern City.

And as such, it had a number of power units beyond what nature can handle, which led to a catastrophic incident. And I could vaguely guess why the Mechanical Puppets were attacking people.

The Mechanical Puppets spread with the convenience they offered, raking in massive wealth. The power units required for almost all mechanical puppets are exceptionally hard to replace.

There are similar groups in faded memories too. Oil companies. They desperately denied global warming. After all, they could lose the money they had earned.

It would be the same.

To ensure their base doesn’t shake, they could do anything with their wealth.

So, Bern City burned once more.

The first incident was a disaster, where people rolled up their sleeves for each other, but the second incident was one of mutual killing.

Amidst that, the Harvesters leveraged their abilities to kill, and warmth seeped out.

The chaos was quite delightful.

It’s just a bit odd that no one is talking about Bern City.

I can’t help but wonder how heavily controlled the broadcasts really are; perhaps there’s some connection with the royal family, or the telecommunications company is linked to the Mechanical Puppets – it’s one of those two.

Or maybe it’s both.

While I watch one side of this country through others’ eyes, I went out today, accompanied by guards, to lure out a witch.

I walked towards a path I’ve never taken before, illuminating the map, and went over to a weeping person near the Harvesters to make them one of us.

Today, I turned a man who had his chin and chest torn apart in an accident into a Harvester, resigned to his death.

When will the witch arrive?

I think she should possess a variety of knowledge like Yasle while walking down the street.

But I couldn’t return to the accommodation.

The roads are strange.

Late afternoon.

The sun is beginning to set. Even though tomorrow is a holiday, the surrounding area is completely deserted, with newly lit streetlights flickering.

Since it’s an empty road, the path I had come from seems to have completely changed at some point. Merryweather, who was beside me just a moment ago, has disappeared too.

Witch?

But there’s no one around.

The buildings I can see nearby aren’t the ones from my memory. Moreover, the entrances and windows are boarded up, making it look difficult to get in.

Plus, the insides of the buildings visible in the darkness are a mess.

With cobwebs and dust, and shattered furniture. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in ages.

Looking up at the sky, I see dark, grim clouds wriggling. It’s not the proper sky.

If I think back just a bit, there weren’t that many clouds in the sky.

If I’m unsure, I need to complete the map.

Thinking so, I walk forward.

At that moment, I see a shadow of a person ahead. But it wasn’t a person. It wasn’t even a living being.

There was no light inside it.

Yet, it started walking toward me, with a clock stuck haphazardly in half its head and brass parts, and blood vessels wriggling in between. It was wearing a typical gentleman’s outfit, but its fashion looked like it was eight decades out of date according to Kanna’s memory.

A half-severed eyeball moved to look down at me.

I looked up at it.

The half-severed cross-section was covered with glass, and inside, clock hands moved. Along a long tube, a yellowish mass wiggled above its head, two of them poking through the gentleman’s hat.

Since it’s not alive in the first place, it’s not surprising.

“It’s late. It’s late. It’s laaaaaate.”

It opened its mouth. The last word stretched out with an unpleasant hissing sound.

Then, it reached out its hand and pointed somewhere.

“Find it! Faster! Bouncy bouncy!”

It spat out bizarre sentences like a translation engine and immediately turned its body, leaping forward.

Its legs were strange. They weren’t flesh but instead stretched out like compressed springs, launching it far away.

Booing booing

With exaggerated, comical sounds, it vanished from my sight in an instant. Then, as if beckoning me to follow, nuts and spring-like fragments drop along the path it took.

A curious space.

I moved my steps as it indicated.

Rumble!

No, I tried to move.

But the ground collapsed.

The disintegrating bricks were intact. Passing through those bricks, I saw a brass-colored drain pipe and then some parched earth. It looked like there had always been a hole here.

Usually, the soil is damp when you dig.

And I fell downward.

Downward. Downward. Downward. Astonishingly, the walls transformed into bookshelves. Countless books were stuffed inside, as well as books eaten by bugs. Occasionally, there were also books that were wet or burnt.

Thud.

And I landed surprisingly lightly onto a sandy floor.

When I jumped above water in Cheonma Church, my lower body shattered. But here, I was intact. It felt like I was in a dream.

Strange.

Since becoming a monster, I haven’t slept. The body I control might often fall asleep, but my mind has always been awake.

Is this a dream, or reality? Or perhaps some kind of illusion?

I can’t tell if there’s even a way to distinguish it.

I raised my head. I could see the hole I fell through above, surrounded by rocks. Looking down, there was a darkness-filled cavern. Further down, I noticed the corpse of a withered rat.

Booing!

Then, I heard the sound I had just heard from above.

When I shifted my gaze from the rat’s corpse and looked up, something with a clock embedded diagonally in its head descended. In its hand was a child that hadn’t been there before.

It had a broken bottle stuck in its head, and surprisingly, it was on fire. Its hands were tattered, and its legs were limp. Among the visible features was—

White skin. Purple hair.

It was the child I had resurrected not long ago. The one who had died today.

Dying wasn’t the shocking part. Unfortunately, the child who had learned to walk excitedly bumped into a dresser. And regrettably, the jam jar that was on top had fallen right on their head.

The child who couldn’t walk had the misfortune of learning just how dangerous it was to stumble around.

And now, in the clock-headed creature’s hand, there was the child with jam in place of brains. The child waved their hand at me. But before I could speak to the child, the clock-headed figure once again stretched its legs like springs, producing a funny noise as it dashed away.

Hmm.

Since I can’t see with the child’s eyes, that’s not a Harvester.

It’s unable to recreate that much.

After all, the only way to escape this world seems to be to follow that thing, so I moved my steps toward where the clock-headed creature had gone.

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