Zero Squadron Cross Ranger Episode 6: The Spark

1. Day 1 AM

"You've noticed, haven't you, Scarlet? If you crush the head, it stops—do it."

Nagoya Central Special Zone, Central Park, in the middle of the night.

Following the words of Zero-Crimson, the Cross Visor of Akane Kanzaki—Zero-Scarlet—locked onto the masked man and the robed woman.
It was obvious at a glance. They possessed a leadership quality that stood out even among the crowd. Those two were the core of this mob.

She placed her finger on the trigger of the Zero Blaster. However, Scarlet's body remained rigid, unable to move.

—Akane! You need to retreat!

—Run! Stay alive... Akane...

"...Takumi... Kaede... I am—"

At that instant, a sharp gunshot tore through the darkness.

A single beam of light, like a flash, raced through the sky and unraveled in mid-air. Pale blue particles swirled and wove together, eventually becoming—a net.

A capture net made of nano-metal particles—it exploded like a spiderweb of light, instantly sealing the movements of the man and woman who were the targets.

"Capture complete! Scarlet, now's your chance!"

Turning toward the direction of the gunshot, she saw Seyon standing on the crane of an armored vehicle.
The variable rifle "Felixer" held in both her hands was glowing faintly.

"...Seyon!"

Seyon leaped from the tip of the crane.

...
<<NEURAL LINK… SYNCHRONIZED>>
<<SUIT INITIATION: STANDBY>>

"Crooooss—On!"

Red, white, and pink particles swirled, enveloping her body. Within the flash of light, the figure of a new warrior appeared.

Kim Seyon— "Zero-Rose"

Rose quickly rushed to the man and woman trapped in the net and deployed restraints. Without giving them a moment to resist, she secured them instantly.

Seeing this, the surrounding rioters, like a swarm that had lost its commander, scattered like spiders.

Scarlet Akane came to her senses.
She suddenly looked at the silhouette of the New Mirai Tower, which towered 1km away.

The reason this riot didn't show up in the predictions. The faint sense of unease she had felt during the day—

(...As I thought, the tower is receiving something...! The predictions are being obstructed—)

"Rose, Crimson, I'll leave this to you. I'm heading to the tower with the 1st Unit!"

With those words, Scarlet jumped onto her high-mobility bike, the Zero Ride, and opened the throttle.
Leaving a trail of particles, the Zero Ride raced into the darkness.

"Okay, leave it to us~"
Rose replied cheerfully.

Meanwhile, Crimson—Leon—watched her back in silence. A slight shadow crossed his cold eyes.

"1st Unit, proceed to New Mirai Tower immediately! I repeat—"

The Zero Ride tore through the darkness. The afterglow of the city flowed by, and the flare of the red warning light reflected intermittently on her Cross Suit.

"All units, report status. I'm heading to the plaza. What is the surveillance status of the outer drones?"

《Four drones currently orbiting, no abnormalities. No signs of tampering on the outer perimeter.》

《No abnormal values detected inside the tower. At this moment, zero sensor readings.》

Scarlet brought the Zero Ride to a halt, scattering sparks. The plaza in front of the entrance was so quiet it didn't feel like it was in the middle of the city.
A G.O.A. soldier at the surveillance post glanced at her for a moment, then shook his head with a gesture indicating no abnormalities.

(...This is strange. This silence, the way the air is so tense—something is 'here'.)

She glanced at the tower through her visor. The giant tower, looming over the buildings in the dead of night, stood in silence like a sleeping beast.

At that moment, an icy chill ran down her spine.

"...!"

Click, click—the sound of boots hitting the cobblestones suddenly echoed through the silent plaza.

Emerging from the shadows was a woman wearing a black and reddish-purple military coat, carrying a sword. With long hair and cold eyes, she carried the atmosphere of a battlefield.

“──Magdala!”

The moment she called that name, Scarlet shifted her center of gravity.

“Hmph, I thought the ‘Red Fierce General’ would come herself... but it seems she’s left it all to her subordinate. Heh heh heh...”

“This riot, it was you lot after all!”
Scarlet’s hand reached for her cross-holster, and a holographic circle deployed. She drew the “Blood Spiral,” a hybrid weapon that served as both gun and sword.

Magdala raised one hand smoothly.
Immediately, a torrent of purple particles erupted from beneath her feet, obscuring Scarlet’s vision.

“Ugh──!”

Magdala leaped high, descending with ominous energy cloaking her heel.

Scarlet instantly twisted her body, stepping sideways in a sliding rotation. As she landed, she spun around and unleashed a sharp slash with the Blood Spiral──

But the purple lightning that surged from Magdala’s fingertips repelled the strike as if it were snapping the very space around them.

“What’s wrong, Zero-Scarlet! Try to entertain me more!”

“...Tch, you battle-crazed maniac!”

Blades and lightning crossed, and flashes of light raced through the dark plaza──

“Haaaah!”

Scarlet’s sword roared as she struck. However, Magdala didn’t move an inch, releasing an arc of purple lightning from her fingertips. The lightning tore through the air and deflected Scarlet’s blade.

The moment she lost her balance──Magdala stepped in deeply. A sharp roundhouse kick struck Scarlet’s abdomen, sending a violent shockwave through her cross-suit.

“Ugh...!”
Scarlet hit the ground with her shoulder and rolled. Her breath caught, and the Blood Spiral slipped from her hand.

“Hmph, how pathetic... is this really the end?”

“Think again!”

Still prone on the ground, Scarlet drew the Zero Blaster she had kept hidden in her left hand and fired a barrage without a moment’s hesitation.
However, as if she had anticipated it, Magdala swished her jet-black coat and deflected every shot.

“Hmph... don’t be so hasty, Zero-Scarlet. The summit... hasn’t even begun yet.”

“What...?”

Magdala took a step forward and looked down at Scarlet. Her mouth slowly twisted into a grin.

Heh... pleasures are best savored little by little.

The next moment, Magdala's outline wavered, and she vanished from the plaza, leaving behind only a residue of particles.

Silence.

Scarlet remained on her knees for a moment, catching her breath. The night air was cold, biting into her skin in a strange way. Eventually, she picked up her dropped weapon and slowly stood up.

Their target is definitely this tower, without a doubt.

She glanced at the ground, still marked by the signs of the skirmish, and looked up at the New Mirai Tower looming against the night sky.

But it's not destruction. If that's the case...

Her gaze pierced sharply toward the top level of the tower, as if penetrating the predictive hub.

Dawn broke, and the city had regained its light once more.

At the Grand Nagoya International Congress Center, in the glass-walled Grand Hall located at its center, world leaders had already taken their seats, and at exactly 9:00 AM, the N.W.C. Summit Day 1 meeting opened as scheduled.

Ashihara, the representative of the N.W.C. Permanent Delegation serving as chair from the host country, Japan, stood on the podium and quietly announced the opening.

To begin, I would like to touch upon the minor disturbance that occurred in this special zone last night. According to reports from the relevant authorities, the situation is already moving toward resolution, and there is no hindrance to ensuring the safety of this conference. As scheduled, we will now open the Day 1 morning session.

A wordless tension filled the hall. Each representative straightened their posture quietly, their gazes crossing as they probed each other's intentions.

The whole venue... it's certainly restless, isn't it?
Todo muttered from the center of the G.O.A. delegation's seats.

Yes.
Hayami, sitting next to him, replied curtly.

Heh, you're the most restless one of all... I know you want to return to the scene immediately. However...

This place is a battlefield too... isn't it?

At Hayami's immediate reply, Todo offered a bitter smile.

On the podium, Ashihara had moved on to the first agenda item.
The first item on today's agenda is the draft of the Omega Ethical Supplementary Clause, commonly known as 'Ω-Article II.' This is a regulatory proposal to ensure that future predictions do not unjustly infringe upon individual freedom and dignity, and it is based on a joint proposal by the Scandinavian Compact and Japan.

As the hall fell silent, Ashihara's voice echoed through the transparent chamber.

“It mandates that human verification be required for AI decisions regarding predictive applications, such as educational selection based on a child's future aptitude or birth restriction measures.”

Many representatives nodded in silence. For the factions that had already signaled their support for the draft, this proposal was little more than a “rite of passage.”
However, when Vice Chairman Jiang Lian of the Chinese Federation quietly took the microphone, all eyes turned toward him.

“By verification, do you mean... ‘ex-post facto approval’ or ‘prior involvement’? If there is no mechanism to guarantee human intervention without compromising the neutrality of the AI, wouldn't that cast doubt on the predictive accuracy itself?”

To this, an aide from the Japanese delegation responded immediately.

“We intend to introduce international review protocols, including a system for verification and approval at the preliminary stage. While the design of individual systems will be left to the regions, we believe a minimum ethical baseline should be shared.”

As the Japanese aide explained, gazes crossed throughout the venue.

“Verification performed by humans—that is an idealistic notion.”
Dr. Mushinda, representative of the African Concord Bloc, spoke in a heavy tone.
This broad federation, consisting of Kenya, Tanzania, South Sudan, and others, was effectively under the umbrella of Oldmond, relying on AI for everything from irrigation to education and urban infrastructure, leaving little room for human involvement.

“AI eliminates emotional judgment. For our region, that was our salvation. A structural change that causes confusion on the ground in the name of ethics—that requires reconsideration.”

“We are not forcing this. We are sharing minimum ethical guidelines while respecting adjustments in each region. That is the position of this draft.”
Chairman Ashihara added quietly.

A silence fell for a moment—

“Very well. We will support this agenda item on the condition that it does not compromise neutrality.”

Following Dr. Mushinda's statement, the representatives of each country nodded one by one.

Ashihara composed his words on the podium.

“Then, for the first agenda item, the ‘Ω-Article II’ draft—regarding the codification of ethical standards and the mandate for ‘human involvement,’ we shall provisionally agree, under the condition that regional discretion is recognized.”

There was no notable opposition, and no one raised their hand to object.
The agenda had moved forward, quietly but surely.

The room next to Node-77—Node-78—was built to be even more restrictive.

Beyond the electronic lock door was a small, windowless room lined with metal plates.
The humid air and the low hum of the fluorescent lights robbed one of the sense of time.

A simple desk sat in the center. Seated opposite each other were the man and woman alleged to have led the riot the previous night—Mahim and Tesina.
Their wrists were bound behind their backs and secured to the backs of their chairs.

“...Speak.”
A low, yet irritated voice leaked from Leon's throat.

There is no reply.

The next moment, a dull sound echoed through the room.
Leon's fist struck Mahim's cheek at an angle. The chair creaked, and the man's head snapped back.

Tell me. How did you twist the future?

...The future? Hmph... that 'thing' you all believe in is nothing but a ridiculous fantasy...
Mahim grinned, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Leon kicked Mahim sharply in the stomach.
His metal legs slid across the floor, and he toppled over along with the chair.

Guh... damn you...!

Mahim! Stop it! Please...!

Teshina screamed, her face twisted in agony.
Leon didn't move a muscle, looking down at the woman coldly.

Woman. Then you tell me. ...If you do, he might be saved.

Akane watched the exchange in silence, leaning against the wall of the room with her arms crossed.
There was no sound, no change in her expression. Only something flickering deep within her eyes.

--Takumi... Kaede...

2. Day 1 PM

As the afternoon session of the N.W.C. Summit began on Day 1, the agenda on the hologram was updated.

<<Agenda Item 2: Regarding Guidelines for Integrating Predictive Infrastructure in Autonomous States>>

Representing the G.O.A. allied nations, Todo stood on the podium and cast his gaze toward the representatives of each country.

Currently, we G.O.A. member nations are establishing security and economic policies based on the sharing of predictive infrastructure and computational resources. However--it is also a fact that the gap in access to the future is widening among the autonomous states.

On the hologram floating behind him, a web of light connecting cities spread out, depicting an image of a global future-prediction network.

We have deployed Ω-FLAME in each city and perform local future predictions daily. However, for climate change and cross-border terrorism--such as the Vesper incident--cooperative computation between cities is essential.

As Todo raised his arm, the Ω-FLAME of each city was connected by lines, showing a network that seemed to cover the world.

“This Ω-NET—this shared foundation for future prediction—is what is necessary to strengthen the accuracy of our forecasts.”

After a brief pause, he concluded his remarks.

“The proposed guidelines are intended to codify the connection requirements for this Ω-NET and to allow for more equitable coordination of computational resources across all nations. We will not close the door to the future for any nation—that is our principle.”

After a moment of silence, Vice Chairman Jiang Lian of the Chinese Federation spoke up.

“I do not intend to deny the technology of prediction itself. However—what kind of transformation will the act of ‘sharing the future’ bring to our culture? Therein lies an unconscious erosion.”

The hologram displayed predictive calculations that classified traditional events and calendars as ‘low-efficiency models.’

Chief Integrator Schneider, sitting next to Hayami, whispered, “Hmph... culture, is it? The opposition is going to nitpick every little detail.”
“I thought the Chinese Federation was already with Oldmond...”
“Yes. But I hear Oldmond is developing even newer predictive systems. They intend to seize hegemony over a completely managed society, centered on their client states.”

As if to build on that voice, Panuwat, the Security Minister of the Thai Harmony Federation, continued.

“For small nations, ‘sharing the future’ means standing on the side of those whose futures are ‘chosen’ for them. Is it not still too early to speak of equal cooperation?”

A slight tension hung over the venue.

But immediately, Claire Morel, the Science and Culture Officer for France, a member state of the European Unified Council (EUC), stood up.

“We agree with the philosophy of the G.O.A. The future should be within the reach of the citizens. To that end, we believe the key is to balance technical transparency with cultural diversity.”

Behind her, the ‘Citizen Audit Model’ introduced by the EUC was displayed. It included disclosure of computational processes, an objection mechanism, and a predictive translation interface supporting various national languages.

“Our citizens have the means to raise their own voices against a ‘visible future.’ Prediction exists for the sake of civil society. If it is shared in that form, culture can be protected.”

Though the applause was modest, several mid-sized nations showed their support.

—However, as if to cut through that atmosphere, Gleb Pak, Director of the Industrial Automation Agency of the Volga Industrial Special Zone, raised his hand.

“Predictive calculation is essentially an engineering control model. If you weave in political considerations or cultural exceptions, you only impair calculation accuracy as noise.”

The hologram switched to show a plant control calculation model and a simulation of error expansion caused by intervention variables.

“We are responsible for our own calculations. But Ω-NET tells us to accept ‘other countries’ errors’ in the name of solidarity. That cannot be called ‘efficiency.’”

The venue buzzed at Gleb’s words.

Responding to this, Gustave, CTO of Oldmond, stood up quietly.

“—I would like to say one thing from a technical perspective.”

Silence naturally returns to the venue. He continues in a restrained tone.

“Ω-NET claims to ‘share predictions,’ but the reality is a synchronization of central calculations—in other words, a structure where each node is dragged toward the ‘most conservative future.’”

A computational model showing the Ω-FLAME of multiple nations converging in one direction is projected onto the hologram.

“And regarding last night’s incident. Our analysis strongly suggests prediction interference by Vesper. It was a sophisticated computational disruption that exploited a blind spot in Ω-FLAME—we can conclude it was an intentional act of sabotage.”

Gustave lets his gaze wander. On the hologram, footage of last night’s Central Park riot plays silently.

“We at Oldmond will never condone acts of violence like those of Vesper. However—”

He pauses for a beat, continuing as if choosing his words carefully.

“I believe we should be cautious about the ‘enforced synchronization’ that can structurally induce violence. ‘Sharing the future’ must not be about imposing a single version of what is right.”

Behind his restrained delivery, there was an implication that could be taken as a provocation.

As if to cut through the lingering tension, Todo stands up.

“In other words, does Oldmond already possess an alternative? It is not constructive to object to the consensus here without presenting it.”

Gustave does not respond to Todo’s words. Beside him, Commander Raul Raymond lets a sneer play on the corner of his mouth. Several representatives react sensitively to that expression.

Todo directs a bitter look at him, but says nothing more and continues calmly.

“...That said, we at G.O.A do not mean to disrespect diverse opinions. We will present an amendment, provided it does not compromise our principles.”

The hologram behind him changes.

《Amendment: This guideline shall be applied flexibly according to each nation’s political system and cultural background.》

Chairman Ashihara announces quietly. “—I will summarize the discussion. We will now move to a vote on the second agenda item, with the amendment included. Representatives, please cast your votes using the designated devices.”

A moment of silence. Then, the light of voting flashes. A few seconds later, the results are displayed on the hologram.

《Second Agenda Item: Passed (with amendment)》

No applause breaks out in the hall.

Hayami, eyes fixed on the stage, whispered to Schneider beside him.
“...Spineless, are they...”
“Yeah. Oldmond’s influence was stronger than expected. Todo is...”

On stage, Todo stood with both fists clenched tightly, his face illuminated by the light of the hologram.

Node-78—the air in the interrogation room was bone-dry. Only the low hum of the cooling system echoed faintly in the deep underground.

Akane saw the shadows of her former comrades in the two people—Mahim and Teshina—restrained in the simple chairs.

The recording device by the wall was active. A micro-camera on the ceiling silently recorded Akane’s every move. This was not an official interrogation.
It was a brief gap of just over ten minutes between Leon’s departure and the arrival of the relief team. Akane had quietly chosen to use that window.

“...I want to ask you one thing. Why go so far to reject the future?”

Mahim scoffed mockingly.
“Hah, what’s the point of asking? You wouldn’t understand, not someone from the privileged side like you.”

“...Maybe you’re right.”

Akane remained silent for a moment, lowering her gaze.

“But I, too... have a past I couldn’t choose.”

The air in the room shifted slightly.

“Five years ago. Southern Dhaka. An intelligence retrieval operation. I was in command on the ground. I received orders to retreat, but I left my unit behind and fought to the end. Because of that decision... I let my comrades die.”

A heavy, damp silence filled the room.
Akane did not look up.
Though she was speaking to them, she was confessing to something much deeper, something far more profound.

“The intelligence was necessary. They told me my judgment was correct. But I left them behind in the ‘future.’ It wasn’t that I didn’t choose; I couldn’t choose. And yet... I am still alive.”

For a fleeting moment, Teshina gasped. Mahim, too, frowned in silence.

Akane finally raised her eyes and faced them directly.

“That is why... I don’t want you to die. Everything you tried to protect hasn’t truly come to an end.”

Silence filled the room.

Before long, Mahim muttered under his breath.

...We couldn't protect them. Not us.

He lowered his eyes and continued, as if squeezing the words out.

I had a little sister. She was sickly, but she was a child who laughed often. But she wasn't saved. With just the words 'outside the scope of intervention,' she was removed from the prediction net.

Teshina nodded quietly.

'An individual who does not contribute to the future'—the moment she was defined that way, medical treatment was cut off. Even though there was a possibility she could have been cured. Faced with the sight of her suffering, we... were not allowed to choose anything.

Akane watched the two of them in silence.

Teshina's voice echoed in the room in a tone that sounded like it might break.

Even so, we can't even hold anyone accountable. Because it was a 'judgment based on prediction.' Because it was the result of optimization...

Mahim scoffed.

Hey... if the phrase 'protecting the future' becomes an excuse to kill a person, then we have no choice but to cling to the 'past.' The days when she was laughing—that's the only thing that can't be erased by calculations.

Akane took a slow breath.

...I understand what you're saying. Maybe not everything. But even so—I don't want to let go of the future. I believe that somewhere, we can reclaim a future where a child like your sister can be 'chosen' once again.

The two remained speechless, clenching their fists.
Even while keeping their eyes lowered, they were—certainly—trying to accept something.

Akane walked up to them quietly.
When she held her ID ring up to the terminal, the restraints on their hands made a soft unlocking sound. Following that, she unlocked the restraints on their feet as well.

Mahim looked up.
Wh... are you sure about this?

I have no intention of condoning your methods. I just... still have the faces of the comrades I couldn't save burned into my mind. That's all.

The two stood up in silence.
Though they were unsteady, their steps were firm.

At the door, Mahim stopped.

Hey, what were we supposed to do? What else is there besides destroying the future?

When you think that all you can do is destroy, you have already turned your back on the future—that is what I think.

The two did not turn back at Akane's words.
However, they were looking straight ahead.

—Prediction noise. Do you know what that is?

At Mahim's words, Akane narrowed her eyes slightly.

Interference technology that causes errors in future predictions. I've heard that even the G.O.A. finds it difficult to counter.

“That’s right. Even though it’s still a prototype, it’s turned out much more combat-ready than you’d think.”

“As I thought... directly into the tower’s core, the predictive calculations—?”

Mahim shook his head.

“Underground. It’s the ‘foundation’ that’s being targeted. This city has a complex network of underground tunnels spread out beneath it. If you inject noise from there, it creates fluctuations in the New Mirai Tower’s base calculations—in other words, the ‘predictive waves’.”

The sense of unease Akane felt at that time suddenly resurfaced in her mind.

(The cycle of the rings, the bias in the computational load... were those traces of noise—?)

Teshina continued.

“If you set it up from underground, the waves will reach the tower, too. It’s proof that the tower is starting to lose its way—it seems you have some idea about that, too.”

“Yes. And if it’s Vesper, they would surely install that technology into the Seraphim Arc.”

“...You’re sharp. Even the prototype has this much effect. Once it’s officially deployed, ‘prediction’ might become unreliable.”
Mahim said.

“Moreover, the responsibility for those errors will fall on those who were handling the ‘future’.”
Teshina added quietly.

The sound of the door lock disengaging broke the silence.
The two of them didn’t look back and began to walk away slowly.

“We’re heading back to our own place. Well, good luck.”

Akane spoke quietly to their retreating backs.

“...Even so, I won’t let you take the future away.”

Dozens of meters below the hustle and bustle of the surface—

In that space, which had been converted from the former subway network, rusted signs, warped pillars, and peeling walls remained just as they were.

Newly laid cables and metal frames were intertwined there, dominating the space like a living neural network.

In the center of it all stood the Seraphim Arc ‘Nebula β’.

Its body had a wet, black texture, and fibers resembling biological tissue were exposed on the surface of its armor. The petal-shaped diffusers on its back rotated silently, and a low, resonant sound sent subtle tremors through the space.

“Fluctuation in predictive waves detected... cycle deviation in calculation rings confirmed again.”

The cold voice of Nebula Beta echoed.

The footage showed the ring of the New Mirai Tower slightly deviating from its orbit.

Magdala stared at the scene.
As she traced the terminal with her fingertips, she smiled slowly.

"Heh... A deranged future is exactly what humanity deserves."

(Continued in Episode 7)

▼ Links to upcoming episodes

Episode 7: Clash
Episode 8: Idol
Episode 9: Intersection
...

▼ Supplementary record documenting the underside of this world—File.00