“How is the recovery of the Three Goddesses’ Spinning Wheel going?” the Vice Principal asked.
“The situation is good,” X’s reply was concise as always.
“But it might take some time before we can predict the location of the next Divine Artifact.”
The Vice Principal nodded, not surprised by the answer.
He changed the subject, mentioning it casually, “What do you think of the club activities this time?”
X did not answer.
He raised his eyes, seemingly trying to discern something from the old man’s face.
The Vice Principal did not wait for his answer and continued slowly, “It has been about nine years, hasn’t it? Since you and Noah enrolled and started the club together.”
His gaze became distant, as if piercing through time.
“Yes, nine years. Back then, the school’s so-called clubs were like gangs. Club activities were like gangs arranging a fight,” X recalled.
“Just like fifty-nine years ago, Thanatos was not like this. Back then, Thanatos was just a desperate organization using the name of the God of Death—a literal cult. A group of survivors who had lost their homes and families in Divine disasters, and a group of naive yet crazy idealists, were bound tightly together by the shared concept of God-Slaying.”
He paused, a trace of a faint, almost bitter smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“Time really flies… But it has been fifty-nine years, and until now, even though we have given our all, we haven’t truly and completely killed a single God.”
The room fell into a brief silence, with only the fire in the hearth burning.
How long was nine years?
How long was fifty-nine years?
Perhaps in the entire history of humanity’s struggle against the Gods, fifty-nine years was not worth mentioning.
But for Nonakawe, fifty-nine years was long enough to change the face of an organization, to let fine lines grow at the corners of a once-spirited young man’s eyes, to turn former comrades into names on tombstones, and to let burning emotions turn lukewarm.
It was not like a clean-cut cross-section, but rather like a wall—a wall slowly weathering in the wind and rain.
At first, one could still see its original outline, but later… only some vague traces remained.
“Your club is now called ‘Feng.'”
The Vice Principal’s gaze refocused, landing on X.
“The president is that Chinese kid named Mu Chengfeng. You still remember him, right? During the mission in Switzerland last year, he followed you as an intern.”
“I remember him. He is a very responsible person,” X’s voice was soft.
“That’s why Tang Rou handed the club over to him.”
“I see.”
The Vice Principal nodded slightly, as if confirming a long-held suspicion.
“You’re still keeping an eye on it.”
“Only occasionally.”
X’s gaze drifted toward the flickering flames.
“I have already graduated, and the club is no longer what it was in my memory. But it is, after all, Noah’s heart and soul.”
“What about Tang Rou? It’s rare to see her not following you.”
“It’s a rare period of leisure. She should rest too.”
“Do you not plan on confessing to her?” the Vice Principal suddenly asked.
X, rarely for him, lowered his head.
The firelight danced on his well-defined profile.
This man, who showed no fear even before the Gods, actually revealed a youth-like embarrassment at this moment.
“The girl I liked when I was young,” the Vice Principal’s voice suddenly became distant, as if slowly rising from the depths of memory, “was a wild girl with a Divine Sense called Overload. The first time I saw her, she took down three burly men who came looking for trouble all by herself. Her movements were clean and sharp, and her eyes were as bright as a quenched blade.”
“It was just that one look,” he shook his head slightly, as if still finding it unbelievable.
“I knew then that I was done for. I fell in love with that figure—the girl who looked as if she could set the whole world on fire. So, I made the most important decision of my life. I ran away from home and joined Thanatos, which was still called a ‘cult’ by the outside world back then.”
“At the time, I naively thought that as long as I could get close to her and say one word to her, it would be enough.”
He smiled, a smile in which too many things had settled that even the passing years could not smooth out.
“But when I actually stepped into this place, I realized how wrong I was. This place gathered a group of complete madmen—a group of fanatics who truly believed they could kill those ethereal things. Among them were scholars who could deconstruct Divine Inscriptions within three days, and monsters who could twist the laws of physics with their will… Compared to them, what was I, a young master who had nothing but his family background? I thought she probably wouldn’t notice me for the rest of her life.”
He withdrew from the distant memory, smiled, and looked at X.
“Can you answer a question for me, Ahmed?”
He rarely used X’s real name.
“What do you think is the ultimate meaning of all our actions, all these sacrifices?”
Without waiting for X to answer, he continued in a voice so calm it made one’s heart tighten:
“For me, my meaning might only be revenge. The Gods destroyed everything I cherished, taking away my friends and the girl I secretly loved my whole life. So, I must risk my life against them. This is the only way for me to keep living.”
“But… my relatives, my friends, and even that girl who haunted my dreams are all long gone. There really isn’t much left in this world for me to be attached to. Even if we truly kill the Gods, what then? Will the old Thanatos reappear? Will the girl I once loved be resurrected? Will the partners who once fought alongside me and finally slept underground crawl out of their graves and raise a glass to celebrate with me?”
He paused, a trace of undetectable exhaustion leaking into his voice.
“Sometimes, I also feel like everything I’ve done is meaningless…”
“Vice Principal,” X looked up, a trace of surprise in his eyes, “even you feel lost?”
“Yes,” the old man admitted frankly, his gaze as deep as an ancient well.
“We all need a reason to support ourselves to keep going. So, Ahmed, what is your reason?”
X was silent for a moment.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and firm:
“Disasters have destroyed the happiness of too many people. Whether it is a war where humans trample each other or a disaster brought down by the Gods, the essence is disaster. I’ve experienced it, and I know what it feels like.”
His gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, seeing countless broken families and weeping faces.
“I hope… to end all of this. I hope no one else will have to endure this pain for the same reasons.”
“That is your reason?” the Vice Principal asked softly.
“It’s very naive, isn’t it?”
The corner of X’s mouth hooked into an imperceptible curve, as if mocking himself.
“I’ve heard too many answers—anger, hatred, or a back bent by responsibility. For many people, including myself, the initial answer was like that. But you are different, Ahmed. The pain you experienced is even beyond ours. That war took everything from you… but it failed to burn away your heart. What emerged from the ashes was a complete heart that wants to protect others.”
“So, I will ask again—do you not plan on confessing to her?”
This time, X did not immediately look away.
He remained silent for a moment before asking a question instead:
“Vice Principal… what about you? Did you and the girl in your memory finally end up together?”
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The wrinkles on the old man’s face appeared deeper under the firelight.
He slowly leaned back against his chair, his voice as calm as if he were narrating a story that had nothing to do with him:
“No,” he said.
“During a mission, I watched her with my own eyes… to cover the retreat of the entire organization, she was sacrificed in a hail of bullets.”
X’s pupils contracted.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?”
The Vice Principal seemed to see through his shock, the corner of his mouth hooking into an extremely bitter curve.
“My Divine Sense is Holy Judgment. Logically speaking, within my domain, firearms… should have been ineffective.”
His gaze pierced through X, as if returning to that desperate afternoon, seeing that figure amidst the rain of bullets.
“It was precisely her death,” his voice was very light, “precisely that moment happening before my eyes… that I awakened Holy Judgment.”
“So, although the school’s rules do not allow Execution Department specialists and their deputies to fall in love, sometimes people should just ignore those things. It’s like what this year’s freshman, that girl named Kobayashi Mirai, said in her public speech—rules are meant to be broken; let whoever made the rules follow them.”
“As the Vice Principal, are you instigating an Execution Department specialist to break the rules?”
X smiled lightly.
“Yes, because for some things, if you miss it, there won’t be a second chance. And don’t make a girl wait for too long.”