Chapter 23 : Black Trigger Contact
The dimensional distortion hit Spatial Cognition like a physical blow.
Power beyond anything my ability had ever processed — energy signatures that folded space itself, attacks that existed in multiple locations simultaneously. Jin's Fūjin carved through the combat zone ahead, its blade extensions transmitting through buildings, through terrain, through the fundamental assumptions of how weapons were supposed to work.
I stopped moving. Yūma and Chika halted beside me, their attention drawn to the same impossible display.
"That's..." Chika's voice trailed off.
"Black Trigger combat." Yūma's flat tone carried something I'd rarely heard from him — awe mixed with something like hunger. "Fūjin against Aftokrator's humanoids."
Combat Evolution attempted to analyze the fight unfolding three hundred meters ahead. The attempt failed almost immediately — there were no patterns to learn, no optimization possible. Black Triggers operated on principles that transcended normal trigger mechanics.
Jin moved through space like it was optional, his blade finding targets that shouldn't have been reachable. The Neighbor humanoids he fought responded with powers equally impossible — one generating shields from nothing, another moving with speed that left afterimages burned into air itself.
"We should help," Yūma said, his body already shifting toward engagement posture.
"No."
The word came out harder than I intended. Both squadmates turned to look at me.
"We can't contribute there," I continued. "That's power we can't match, can't support, can't even approach without becoming collateral. Jin doesn't need reinforcement — he needs space to operate."
"People are dying." Yūma's voice carried edge. "We can't just watch."
"We can die with them, or we can find where we CAN contribute." I met his eyes directly, refusing to flinch from the frustration I saw there. "There are sectors without A-Rank support, evacuation points undermanned, civilians trapped in areas the main forces can't reach. That's where Tamakoma-2 makes a difference."
The argument was tactical and correct. It was also the truth I couldn't share — that canon showed exactly how these Black Trigger engagements played out, and none of those outcomes involved C-Rank squads contributing meaningfully.
Chika's relief was visible in the slight relaxation of her shoulders. Yūma's frustration deepened, but he didn't argue further.
"Fine." The word came out clipped. "Where do we go?"
I checked tactical maps through my combat interface, cross-referencing with Memory Architecture's knowledge of canonical battle patterns. "Northern sector. Reports of breakthrough near civilian shelter zones. No A-Rank allocation."
We repositioned, leaving the gods' war behind.
Across the combat zone, something worse than Fūjin activated.
Spatial Cognition screamed warning before I could consciously process what I was perceiving. Dimensional distortion on a scale that dwarfed everything else — space itself being cut, separated, violated by a weapon that shouldn't exist.
Organon. Viza's blade. The ancient trigger that had ended more lives than any other weapon in recorded Neighbor history.
I watched from nearly a kilometer away as the attack carved through Border's defensive line. Agents scattered — some successfully, some not. The dimensional cuts left no bodies, just empty space where people had been.
"What IS that?" Chika's voice shook.
"Death." The word escaped before I could soften it. "Anyone who faces it directly dies. Almost anyone."
Yūma's expression had shifted from frustration to something colder. "I've heard of Organon. My father fought its previous wielder, decades ago. Said it was the closest thing to an unbeatable weapon he'd ever seen."
"Your father fought that and survived?"
"My father was... exceptional." Yūma's voice carried weight I'd never heard from him. "I'm not him. Not yet."
The admission hit harder than his earlier frustration. Yūma Kuga, child of a legendary Neighbor warrior, acknowledging limits he didn't want to accept.
I understood the feeling. Watching Jin's impossible attacks, watching Viza's dimensional cuts — the scale of power made my abilities feel irrelevant. Months of development, careful growth, transmigrator advantages that had seemed significant.
Against Black Triggers, I was nothing.
"Northern sector," I said, forcing my voice steady. "We make a difference where we can. Let the ones who can fight gods fight gods."
We moved through shadows while buildings fell behind us, trying to matter in a war between powers that could erase us without noticing.
The northern route took us past destruction that made earlier sectors look gentle.
Gate aftermath — the specific devastation left when dimensional barriers collapsed and Trion Soldiers poured through en masse. Craters where concentrated attacks had landed. Structural damage that spoke to battles fought and lost before reinforcements arrived.
My trigger read twenty-five percent. The Raygust modification's cost kept paying interest through fatigue I couldn't shake.
"Comms are degrading," Chika reported. "Interference from Gate activity is getting worse."
"Switching to backup frequency." I adjusted the portable unit I'd requisitioned weeks ago — equipment designed for exactly this scenario, positioned because I'd known the invasion would overload standard communication infrastructure.
The backup crackled to life with clearer audio. Border's tactical chatter flooded through: requests for support, casualty reports, position updates that painted a picture of organized chaos.
"—Northern shelter zone under pressure, requesting any available units—"
"—A-Rank Squads fully committed to Black Trigger engagement—"
"—C-Rank trainees holding position but ammunition depleted—"
C-Rank trainees. The ones who'd joined Border recently, who didn't have combat experience, who were holding civilian evacuation points because there was nobody else.
"That's our target," I said. "Northern shelter zone."
Yūma was already moving before I finished speaking, his frustration channeled into purpose. Chika followed, her grip on her trigger steady despite the fear in her eyes.
We ran toward the sounds of desperate defense, and the city burned around us, and somewhere behind us Black Triggers clashed with world-ending force.
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