Ludger stared silently at Nikolai.
A handsome man with wavy hair brushed back from his forehead, carrying an almost oily sort of elegance.
Though they had exchanged words several times before, this was the first time they had truly stood face to face.
The calm smile directed at him contrasted sharply with the hostility glinting in Nikolai’s eyes.
“Bold of you. I thought you’d have fled the moment you realized I was coming for you. Or perhaps you’d have sent a decoy instead.”
“I considered it, but unfortunately, I’m the sort of man whose backside is too heavy to move easily.”
“So you simply couldn’t imagine yourself in a situation where you’d have to run.”
“......”
Nikolai fell silent at Ludger’s sharp remark.
Because it was true.
Nikolai was, above all else, a stage-setter.
He pulled the strings from behind the curtain, molding the stage into the ideal world he desired.
No matter how frantically the actors flailed, they could only thrash within the boundaries of their assigned roles. Watching them struggle in the framework he’d built—
—that was how Nikolai liked it.
That was why the current situation was so unexpected even for him.
An actor had leapt off his stage, crashed into the audience, and reached the playwright himself.
“Fufufu. Fine, I’ll admit it. Wise rabbits may dig many burrows, but for me, that’s unnecessary. A predator doesn’t need to run away.”
A predator always devours.
The ones who dig multiple burrows are the prey—creatures that assume they’ll need to flee to survive.
But at the top of the pyramid, there was no need to run, no need for escape routes.
Lions don’t dig burrows.
“That arrogance is what’s tightening the noose around your neck, Nikolai.”
“Perhaps. But do you really think I’ve done nothing while sitting here waiting for you?”
Confidence radiated from him.
Ludger watched him calmly, then swiftly surveyed the surroundings.
The Central Reactor.
From Nikolai’s words alone, it was clear that this place was the heart of Isla Machina—the massive power source that fueled the entire island.
The vast chamber formed a great dome, with an enormous spherical core at its center.
Countless machines and massive pipes connected to the sphere above and below, like stalactites and stalagmites meeting in the middle of a cavern.
The most crucial place—and the one that should never be tampered with.
“So you thought I wouldn’t be able to use magic here? That a single explosion might consume the entire island?”
“Oh, come now. Don’t think so little of me. Naturally, I know someone of your caliber could kill me in countless ways without resorting to something so crude. The reason I’ve chosen to face you here is simple—it’s already over.”
“Your life?”
At that, Nikolai burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.
“Hahahaha! John Doe, who knew you had a sense of humor? Had I realized it sooner, I might have sought you out for conversation before all this.”
“......”
“Do you not understand what all my actions have meant up to now? I’ve been stalling for time. Killing you would be ideal—but failing to kill you wouldn’t matter either.”
Still smiling faintly, Nikolai turned his gaze toward the massive sphere at the center of the island.
“This sphere is the strongest, most sophisticated heart ever made—crafted by the greatest magicians and engineers of our time. It can contain enough vaporized steam to move tens of thousands of tons of water without cracking.”
“And how does that matter right now?”
“Won’t you let me finish? I’ve long wondered about one possibility. If there were a being composed of machinery, life, and magic all in one—what would it be like?”
A chill crept up Ludger’s spine.
He could tell Nikolai was revealing the truth he’d kept hidden until now.
“John Doe. You, favored of Zero Order—you must know how perfectly imperfect this world is.”
Perfectly imperfect.
That was how Nikolai described the world.
A delicate clockwork mechanism crafted by someone unseen—
—where even broken gears and misfitting parts still turned according to plan.
Why?
If such perfection could exist, why allow imperfection to remain?
If it was as Victor claimed, and this “Mechanist” sought to create art through the world, was this the result?
Nikolai couldn’t stand it.
Was his own awareness—his realization—also part of that Mechanist’s design?
If so, then was his attempt to destroy the stage also part of that plan?
“I can’t stand it. Being looked down upon, mocked from above—I don’t care about that. But being controlled at someone else’s whim? That disgusts me to my core.”
“So that’s why you did all this?”
“If the Mechanist I imagine is what people call a god—then I «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» want to know what that god would think of my defiance. Would He say it was all preordained? Or would He be offended that I’ve acted beyond His expectations? This is an experiment.”
“You...”
From those words, Ludger understood something grave.
“What have you created?”
Nikolai scowled, as if offended.
“This is exactly why I don’t like you. Must you ruin my grand reveal by blurting out the punchline?”
“Cut the nonsense and tell me what you made.”
“It’s simple. If I’m truly just a character written by the Mechanist, then this is my answer—whether that character has the right to create a new Mechanist, a new playwright.”
“A new playwright?”
“Another god.”
Grrrrrkkk—
A harsh metallic screech rang out above them.
Realizing it came from the ceiling, Ludger raised his head.
From the tangled mass of wires, pipes, and steel debris—
—something was trying to emerge.
A viscous, fleshy substance forced its way through the metal, like a lump of living tissue struggling to be born.
Like a creature breaking free from its egg.
Or something desperately clawing to escape confinement.
“I call it the God of Machines.”
The fleshy membrane stretched and tore, spewing its contents outward.
The mass dangled from the ceiling by cords like umbilical strings, then succumbed to gravity and fell.
Thud.
Splat.
It landed squarely between Ludger and Nikolai.
It resembled a human without skin.
The only mechanical feature was the gaping hole where its heart should be—within which sat a black metal sphere.
Seeing that eerie figure somehow still alive, a chill ran down Ludger’s spine, and his fingers twitched reflexively.
Grrrrrrr...
The God of Machines groaned like a dying man.
For something called a “god,” it had no trace of divinity.
But Ludger’s instincts screamed—he had to kill it now.
While it was still weak.
If he didn’t destroy it here, he’d regret it.
The instant his killing intent surged, the creature’s head twisted unnaturally, its gaze snapping toward him.
It reacted to my bloodlust.
An animal’s instinct—pure predatory reflex.
But Ludger didn’t stop.
He unleashed mana from his fingertips, firing beams of light toward its forehead and chest—its vital points.
It was the fastest, sharpest attack in his arsenal.
No matter how keen its reflexes, there was no way it could react to that—
—or so he thought.
Until he saw what happened next.
Paaah!
Something red and gleaming erupted across the creature’s skin, deflecting Ludger’s light spell.
Even that fine, slender ray—hot enough to melt steel—bent away as though refracted.
Metallic material glimmered across its skin.
“Metal?”
“I told you. The God of Machines.”
Nikolai smirked, mocking him.
The creature, enraged at being attacked, turned toward Ludger and bared its fury.
KRAAAAH!
Its scream shook the entire chamber.
But it wasn’t mere sound waves—the very structure of the Central Reactor responded to the creature’s emotion and rage.
Grrrrrkkk!
The metallic walls and supports that formed the spherical chamber began to move, converging toward the creature.
Soon, the God of Machines was enveloped in a cocoon of metal.
At that sight, Ludger turned his glare to Nikolai.
“What did you put into that thing?”
“Everything I had.”
“It manipulates metal... that form—”
“Yes. It’s like a single-elemental mage, isn’t it?”
Nikolai nodded, as if to confirm Ludger’s suspicion.
“There is an Iron-colored Mage inside it.”
“The Iron-colored seat? That position was supposed to be vacant.”
“It was. But did you really think no one with that talent existed? I happened to find an unopened bud—someone whose gift had not yet blossomed.”
The rest needed no explanation.
The result before their eyes told the story.
“The human body is fragile. Try to graft machinery onto it, and the rejection is catastrophic. Even for an Iron-colored Mage attuned to metal—it ended up like that. So I used something stronger. More alive.”
“Cells of the World Tree...”
“That’s right. And with the cooperation of those bourgeois bastards at the New Magic Tower, I added layers of magical knowledge. But it still wasn’t enough. The shell was perfect—but it lacked a heart.”
Ludger’s eyes flicked to the black orb embedded in the creature’s chest.
“That small core could output this much power?”
“Isn’t it fascinating? Even with our advances in magitech, creating an island entirely covered in machinery, endlessly running—something must power it all.”
This Central Reactor was Isla Machina’s heart.
It gathered, boiled, and circulated the steam that drove the entire island.
Even with the most advanced magic-engineering, such perpetual energy should’ve been impossible.
And yet, here it was.
It could only exist because someone—or something—had created it.
“The original developer of this core didn’t create it from nothing. He used something as a base, then layered his own imagination and craftsmanship over it.”
“You mean there’s an original key—something that came before it?”
“Why ask me? You, of all people searching so desperately for it, should know. The power that makes such miracles possible.”
“...A Relic.”
“Exactly. An ancient artifact of unknown origin, purpose, or creator. Isla Machina itself runs thanks to the power of that Relic.”
An unexpected truth—but one that made perfect sense.
A colossal mechanical island like this could only function through divine-grade technology.
A Relic.
A god-forged tool from ages past, created by forgotten, imprisoned deities.
There were others scattered across the continent besides the one Ludger sought—
—and one of them lay here, within Isla Machina.
“I refined that Relic, used it as material, and bestowed it upon the God of Machines—the heart of all hearts, the Divine Furnace.”
A black metal heart forged from a Relic.
The body of an Iron-colored Mage.
The vitality of World Tree cells.
Magical and forbidden knowledge layered atop all of it.
How much material, wealth, and time had been consumed in its making?
“So all those previous experiments...”
“Yes! They were nothing but scraps—failures paving the way for the birth of a single god!”
And that god had now opened its eyes.
CRRRRRSH!
The metal cocoon split apart, unfolding like wings.
From within, the God of Machines emerged once more—
no longer incomplete,
but whole.