Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

༺ The Unobserved Records – Windowless Room ༻

The release of synchro magic caused a sense of distant separation to wash over the user, which felt like reversing out of a narrow, elongated tunnel. As her lonely body pulled at her consciousness, the connection between Abbey and her golem stretched thin like a spider’s thread reaching its limits… until it snapped, pulling Captain Abbey back to reality.

Abbey awoke on a mat, laid out in the room in case she stumbled and injured herself during the synchro. It also served as a dedicated space for stretching exercises.

“Whew.”

Abbey took a deep breath and briefly cradled her own arms, feeling the soft, supple flesh beneath her fatigues. Her senses were working normally. She was unmistakably in her own body, not the golem. As the frequent use of synchro magic sometimes led to confusion of identity, she needed to perform a simple test like this for reassurance.

Having made sure, she crawled off the comfy mat on her knees and went out of the room.

Outside, she was greeted by a compact, dimly lit, and cluttered office. It was a sterile space filled only with essentials for her missions, almost pathologically leaving no room for anything extraneous.

On one wall, a cluster of palm-sized “windows” adhered like a honeycomb. Most exuded darkness, as if reflecting the night. Only two glimmered with faint remnants of light.

One of them revealed a blue horizon and a sprawling wilderness, while the other appeared cloudy and hazy like a storm-laden sky.

Abbey extracted a key from her bio-receptor and inserted it into a slot beside the hazy “window”. Upon doing so, swirling gray clouds coalesced, gradually forming a certain landscape…

Before long, the window revealed the interior of Tantalus’ dining hall. It was still shrouded in darkness, so the overall view beyond the window appeared indistinct.

“The Progenitor… What could have possibly taken hold of her?”

Abbey couldn’t fathom the Progenitor’s intentions, but one thing was clear: she was still in the abyss and had a desire to learn cooking. This by itself indicated that her stay in the abyss would be prolonged. Abbey believed no problems would occur for the foreseeable future.

More importantly, she needed to take action as her golem within Tantalus had been restrained. She pressed forward with the next task at hand.

Facing the “window”, Abbey sat down and closed her eyes, focusing her mind. The air quivered in response as an additional set of laws imposed themselves upon the world around her.

Though a soldier of the Military State, the magic she wielded was different from standard magic. Hers was the manifestation of the inner realm, requiring no spells or chants to reshape reality.

This was her unique magic: Morning Glory. An annual flower that bloomed only in the morning and wilted by noon.

A stem of morning glory, woven of magical energy, encased Abbey’s entire form, slowly unfurling. It was akin to a beautiful vine tenderly embracing her, yet also reminiscent of a hungry serpent extending its coils to consume its prey.

But she didn’t care whichever it was, so long as she could fulfill her duty.

Abbey tapped into her mana, and the morning glory, nurtured by that energy, began to bud beside her cheek. Soon, it blossomed gracefully, revealing a vibrant purple hue.

The preparations were complete. Opening her eyes, Abbey directed her words to the pistil of the morning glory.

“Attention, this is Captain Abbey, Signaller of the Military State. Calling for Yuel.”

Unheard words. In this isolated, remote place, no message could ever reach its intended recipient.

But the morning glory, possessing the power of “synchronization”, would transmit her message to another blooming flower somewhere in the world. A voice from a distant someone emerged from the flower, as if they had been eagerly anticipating this moment.

『Abbey! I’ve been waiting!』

Musing that the distinctive voice was no different from how she heard it a few days ago, Abbey replied to the voice that reached her.

“Yuel. Connection confirmed.”

『It’s been a while! To be exact, 6 days, 21 hours, and 34 four minutes! It would’ve been a whole week if you had been a little later! Don’t worry me, Abbey!』

“While I appreciate the concern, there was no need for contact. Due to the takedown of the only ‘window’ at my disposal, no information could be updated.”

A clap resounded from the other side.

『Ohh, right! Didn’t you mention the ‘windows’ were almost all broken? Are the remaining two also goners?』

“Negative. But the last unit for monitoring the interior of Tantalus has been restrained. Is it possible to obtain more from your end?”

『Mm. You’ll unfortunately have to wait. You know how incredibly difficult it is to create our ‘windows’. They’re not distributed freely… especially if they were easily broken.』

Abbey initially had a total of forty-nine ‘windows’. Firstly, it was the maximum she could handle, and secondly, it was a generous supply from the Military State considering the unique nature of lawlessness within Tantalus.

It was a precautionary measure, as the outlaws of Tantalus, who were easily capable of tearing even humans apart, wouldn’t spare golems. And the precaution was well taken, it seemed.

Forty-seven of the numerous ‘windows’ were easily broken, leaving only two remaining.

Abbey did have something to say about this, though.

“I hold jurisdiction over the matter, but the responsibility is not solely mine. While it was not uncommon for Tantalus trainees to break the ‘windows’, none ever did so with the paranoiac dedication ‘he’ displayed. In the first place, the blame lies with General Patraxion for not even disarming criminals upon arrest—”

『Ahaha, Be careful now. Even if we’re not affiliated with that side, you shouldn’t speak that way~.』

Yuel interrupted with good timing. Abbey stopped on the verge of venting her emotions to Yuel, took a deep breath, and calmed herself.

“… I will make amends.”

『Oh no~! I totally get it! We’re signallers, not emotionless vampires! Though well, in terms of not being able to receive sunlight, there’s not much of a difference!』

Yuel cracked a self-deprecating joke, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Feeling another twinge of discomfort for causing inconvenience, Abbey changed the subject.

“May I ask what happened with the supply of mana herbs I requested previously?”

『Right! I think it’ll be dispatched soon! But you know, yes? A signaller must absolutely never use mana herbs! An overseer will be sent to check on that!』

Yuel was always gentle in her manner and never used a forceful tone with Abbey. So when Yuel emphasized something as “absolute”, it meant that it was truly a matter to be avoided.

But Abbey knew that despite Yuel’s words, the latter had made every effort to supply her with mana herbs. It was why she couldn’t bring herself to cancel the supply request, just because of a laborer’s betrayal. She could vividly imagine how delighted Yuel must have been when she had asked for the favor.

As Abbey briefly contemplated what to say, a notification sound came from Yuel’s side, indicating the receipt of an order.

Yuel sounded perplexed over the morning flower.

『Oop, hang on, it’s an emergency order.』

Their conversation was too long to be a report, and too short to be a personal talk. It was time to conclude their exchange.

Abbey fixed up her attire as she spoke.

“Apologies for the interruption in your busy schedule, Captain Yuel.”

『Not at all. It was nice to hear from you after so long. Let’s… talk again. Later.』

Yuel’s voice, tinged with longing, faded away, and the petals of the morning flower began to wilt weakly. The echoes of her voice lingered in the air like distant whispers.

『This is Captain Yuel, Signaller of the Military State… Regarding your request…』

The voice grew fainter, gradually disappearing. At that moment, the morning flower adorning Abbey’s shoulder withered. Its vine-like stem broke away, unraveling like dried strands. As the fragments fell to the ground, they dissipated in the air like mist.

Unique magic is defined by the distinct states of mind possessed by each individual. This proposition arose from the moment the mystical power of magic became inherent in humans.

But what if individuals with similar aptitudes were gathered and their minds were honed through strict and standardized training? Could they not learn the same magic?

The Military State achieved just that. They carefully selected talented individuals from secondary military school and molded them into signallers through specialized education. Their magic, though each had a different form, shared a common trait: synchronization.

With it, signallers could communicate with each other without the need for mechanical devices or magic circles. They could connect to specially crafted golems with the combination of a key and their bio-receptors.

Even the worst communication equipment was the size of a massive building and incredibly expensive. Considering that, signallers were a successful creation of the Military State which greatly reduced such burdens and even granted mobility.

But individuals with such talents were scarce. As a result, regardless of age or experience, signallers immediately attained the rank of captain upon commissioning. Though they were more akin to recruits than officers, as their sole domain of expertise lay in golems.

“Take care, Yuel.”

Abbey turned away, wishing happiness for her once closest companion.

A single small lamp illuminated the suffocating space she stood in. On the narrow office desk, documents and cryptic codes were scattered.

With clothing packets, there was no need for even a wardrobe, and as for food, canned beans sufficed as the sole sustenance. Every necessity for survival was crammed into a single cupboard.

Apart from that, there was nothing to adorn life. There was no comfortable sofa for respite nor any magazine filled with trivia that would provoke only scornful laughter. Not even a window to steal a glimpse of the outside world.

There was simply nothing.

This was a windowless room. There was nothing like a door leading outside. No opening of any kind. The idea of opening curtains to let in sunlight or a window to welcome a breeze was out of the question, to begin with.

For Signaller Captain Abbey, golems were the only “windows” she was permitted to use to gaze at the outside world.

A signaller’s room had to be dull and lifeless, as any diversion would inevitably lead to neglect in communication. To receive supplies, perform tasks, or even seek a change of scenery, they had to rely on the golem, their only window. It was their sole means of outside interaction.

Their only solace—if it could be called that—came from conversing with other signallers.

Yet even that was hard to come by.

Abbey went to the washbasin and rinsed her face. Using a towel packet, she wiped her face clean and examined her reflection in the mirror; tidy fatigues, a cap, and silky short hair, neatly cropped to match. Her complexion appeared pale even in the subdued lighting, likely due to a lack of exposure.

The slight sallowness she used to have in her skin had disappeared after the recent unintended bout of stretching. Not that she had any desire to feel thankful for that.

Her mind once again drifted to the “windows”. She took a seat and gazed out through them. One golem on the surface, observing the passing clouds and the distant wilderness. And the other in Tantalus, sitting in a corner of the dimly lit cafeteria, silently surveying its surroundings.

Abbey stared blankly at the scene, much like the golem, then suddenly murmured to herself.

“…Guess I’ll go back.”

Abbey extended her hand as if in a trance. After a moment of debate, she chose the key to the golem inside Tantalus from the remaining two “windows”.

Then she subconsciously began stretching once again. Her body remembered the stretching she had been performing relentlessly for the past three days to achieve synchronization.

While loosening her legs, a realization struck Captain Abbey.

“Oh, right. It was undone.”

Recalling her past humiliation, Abbey gritted her teeth.

The synchronization rate increased when the one attempting synchronization closely resembled the target. It was why synchro-type golems were humanoid and possessed human-like senses. Naturally, to synchronize, she had to imitate the target’s movements as closely as possible, even if it meant doing the splits.

When she plugged the key into her bio-receptor, the synchronization magic indicated that she needed to split her legs. So split she did, clenching her fists and trembling in anger.

They say that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back at you. After controlling rigid golems day after day, Captain Abbey’s body had gradually become as stiff as the golems themselves. Confined to a room to control golems, it was only natural that she lost her flexibility.

The new trial imposed on her, being so inflexible, was incredibly harsh. But as someone trapped in a windowless room, she had no choice but to overcome it.

On the first day.

Abbey pressed her feet against the walls and leaned forward. As she held her breath and pushed the walls, her legs formed an awkward obtuse angle.

To golems, splitting their legs was a mere matter of part arrangement. The pain was felt only by Abbey’s body. Experiencing the strange sensation of her own body hurting more than the golem, Abbey let out a scream.

On the second day.

Perhaps due to stretching non-stop, if it could be called stretching, Abbey’s range of motion had increased compared to the previous day. As a side effect, she couldn’t fully stretch her legs in the morning, but that was a truly minor inconvenience.

In any case, the synchronization rate was relatively high, allowing her to maintain the connection. After dogged efforts, Captain Abbey managed to connect to the golem.

And the first thing she saw was her golem’s loudspeaker, placed just out of reach.

Something inside her snapped.

On the third day.

Some things can’t be achieved through effort alone. While stretching improves flexibility, you can’t do the splits and lie flat in just a day or two of hard work. The body is honest and doesn’t allow shortcuts.

Nevertheless, Abbey couldn’t give up. If she remained trapped like this, not only would her mission fail, but one of the “windows” would also close completely, which would be a terrible outcome. With that in mind, Abbey continued her splits of revenge, focusing on the man who had tied her up.

“Miscreant… I won’t forget this humiliation.”

Although it was the Progenitor who had last restrained the golem, her deed paled compared to the things he had done. No, if it hadn’t been for him in the first place, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.

With vengeful determination, Abbey connected to the golem inside Tantalus.

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