Imago No. 32 in the possession of the Human Conservation Federation: “Iustitia.”
At first glance it looks like an ordinary firearm, but Iustitia’s true value manifests within anomalous phenomena.
Iustitia not only deactivates the imago at the root of an anomaly, but even temporarily neutralizes its power.
In a standard suppression operation by a field team with no prior imago exposure, considerable firepower is expended to subdue the imago. On top of that, dismantling or restraining the captured imago and safely transporting it back to the Federation demands hefty resources and manpower.
Yet here was a device that could not only deactivate an imago but also preserve its power intact.
That was the very catalyst for the Federation’s replica-distribution project for secured imagos, beginning with Iustitia.
The research cost was astronomical. To reproduce an object not of this world with contemporary technology—it sounded like sheer lunacy.
But if it worked, manpower could be deployed far more efficiently and the budget redirected to where it was truly needed.
After years of study, hundreds of Iustitia replicas were distributed on a trial basis—around a hundred units went to Federation personnel at that time.
Yet within months the field divisions were inundated with complaints.
Iustitia could only be used once the operator’s erosion rate reached a certain threshold, and the required erosion rate varied from user to user—hardly compatible with the field teams’ motto of “fast entry, fast suppression.”
Beyond frustrations at failing to meet the erosion threshold at critical moments, reports ranged from hallucinations of Iustitia whispering to its bearer, to simple claims that the product was defective.
In the end, the Federation decided to scrap half of the replicas and issue the remaining half directly as weapons to requesting agents.
But the tragedy did not end there.
“What can I say—this was an error the research team never anticipated. A gun goes bang when you pull the trigger and stays silent otherwise, right?”
“Right?”
“Who could have guessed that Iustitia’s replica would be an imago capable of resonance?”
Resonance.
As time passed, agents issued with Iustitia replicas became increasingly dependent on it. Eventually, even in armed operations, they could not calm their anxieties—leading to critical mistakes in coordinated suppressions. Their mental states deteriorated: delirium, auditory and visual hallucinations, anxiety, insomnia, depression, unprovoked rage, a profound sense of loss, inability to communicate, emotional volatility.
These symptoms appeared in anyone who carried Iustitia for more than three months.
And then—
“No one could have imagined that some agents in the field response unit would storm the research team.”
The Federation leadership determined that Iustitia’s danger could no longer be ignored. All thirty-eight replicas were recalled to the research division.
But one week after the recall, several field operatives ambushed the research department—seriously wounding nine researchers and stealing twenty-five Iustitia replicas. They even attempted to access the original Iustitia, but security clearance barred entry to its storage, so they took only the replicas.
The fleeing operatives were discovered by a suppression squad two days later; they died in a fierce firefight. The Federation completely destroyed ninety-seven Iustitia replicas.
Of the remaining three, two were moved to the research team’s underground vault for detailed study. The last unit lay forgotten in a warehouse—until it was issued to Raimund.
The message from Iustitia’s original and its replicas was unmistakable:
Whoever attempts to handle anomalies carelessly will pay a price far greater than their life.
As befits an imago named for the goddess of justice, it was stern—even haughty.
Having finished her explanation, Cozet smiled.
“Mr. Geppert, now you understand just how special you are—”
“Wait.”
Raimund cut her off before she could utter any more empty flattery, and asked the question he’d been itching to hear.
“Why did you include something so dangerous on my supply list?”
“Pardon?”
“Special or not, you told me the people who carried Iustitia went mad. Yet you handed me this wicked imago as a supply item? Seriously?”
“My superiors authorized its use. And besides, Mr. Geppert’s artificial body differs from that of ordinary humans, so the research team thought he’d handle a secured imago well…”
“Handle it?!” Raimund exploded.
Cozet’s evasive answer was, in effect, a declaration that the Federation intended to let him be consumed by the replica.
He’d only been lucky this time that he managed to activate Iustitia. What if he’d failed and been fully eroded, leaving Friedrich stranded there?
He didn’t care if he died—but he would never accept an innocent bystander being dragged in.
Yet simply because of some clearance, they’d given him an Iustitia replica?
“Leave. Both of you. Now.”
Cozet looked at Raimund in stunned silence. He couldn’t even push himself off the bed; the sensors dangling from his head he ignored as he closed his eyes.
The conversation was over.
Cozet and Friedrich descended to the first floor. Cozet shook her head, amused.
“You’ve a surprisingly fierce temper.”
“I did warn you—this house would be tidied however it pleased.”
Friedrich surveyed the pristine parlor in displeasure. His memory archive—once their hideout—had been transformed into an ordinary family home in an instant.
Cozet laughed.
“Yona told me it’s cleaner than before. They said they never recognized it as the same place when they came in.”
“Because of him, I now have to reorganize all the data I’d collected. I suppose we’re even now.”
Raimund might have lost more than he gained, but Friedrich argued brazenly. When Cozet murmured “I can imagine,” a brief hush fell over the room.
“By the way, I knew about the Iustitia replica, but I never thought it’d be issued to him.”
“It was the higher-ups’ decision. Yona, Yokan and I had no say. And yet you blame me?”
“No. I just wanted to say I was surprised.”
“At what point? That Iustitia has seen the light of day again?”
“No.”
Friedrich sipped his now-lukewarm black tea, his gloved gesture elegant.
“Surprised at everything.”
“Hmm.”
“Do you really feign ignorance, Cozet? We’ve worked together long enough to know each other’s methods. I also question the Federation’s decision. Raimund Geppert was a perfectly ordinary human—no records link him to us. Yet after that bomb-delivery incident, his life changed utterly.”
“Go on.”
“Isn’t it all too coincidental? The Red Witch entrusted him with the bomb, I tracked her scent to his corpse, which anomalously transformed instead of being incinerated. The Federation contracted him, even paid him handsomely, to secure it. Then they gave him an Iustitia replica, and he didn’t just suppress a lethal anomaly on his first assignment—he successfully secured the imago. Even the luckiest man would arouse suspicion at that.”
Cozet still wore a smile. Friedrich’s brazen clarity cut through it.
“If this world were a gamble, he’d have been ousted for foul play—wouldn’t he?”
“I’m afraid I can’t comment further at this time.”
“I still have many questions. Why did his erosion rate spike so rapidly? Why hire a complete outsider as a contractor? Why has no one unraveled the anomaly his body produced? What triggered him? And what caused the anomaly itself—”
“Mr. Friedrich.”
Cozet halted him with a single word. Friedrich sensed the warning beneath it.
Cozet was Code Name Cozet, Team Leader of Field Response Unit 1 in the Anomaly Containment Bureau—the highest fatality rate division within the Federation. While the title might not seem lofty, she was the only person in all four field teams to rise to leader in five years without losing a limb. Few young agents remained active without a prosthetic, and fewer still retained their sanity.
She was a prized asset of the Federation—and, like her predecessor (now the division chief), likely destined for higher office.
Friedrich paused, then apologized courteously.
“I overstepped. My apologies.”
“You were tense—it’s been a while since a Level 4, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“We’ll keep the secured imago for study. The research department will contact Mr. Geppert after appraisal. Lucky fellow, isn’t he? To achieve such results on his first contract. I’d gift him a bonus myself, if only it were within my authority.”
“Sometimes fortune smiles on us all.”
As Friedrich offered the expected reply, Cozet pocketed the silver key and rose. He reflexively grasped her hand in a handshake. Cozet spoke brightly.
“Mr. Friedrich, it’s cleaner when exchanges are fair, don’t you think? I hope we can cooperate as long as possible.”
A friendly but unmistakable boundary was drawn. Friedrich considered joining the Federation full-time, then, as always, deftly brushed aside the thought.
“I feel the same.”
His gaze drifted to the table where the tepid tea sat beside a yellowed envelope containing his payment for this assignment.
Just as the Federation needed him, he needed the Federation.
All transactions were calculated—no room for emotion.
Use as much as you’re used, and be used as much as you use.
Muttering those words, Friedrich thought of the man lying on the third floor.