Countless tales of heroes tell us this: wherever you stand, look up at the vast night sky, and you will see the constellations. Those constellations are the traces of heroes who once raced across this land—their very lives.

That was half right and half wrong.

Heroes who accomplish great feats really do inscribe their stars in the night sky, becoming transcendent beings called Constellations. In that sense, the part about constellations being the lives of heroes was true.

Which part, then, was wrong?

The part about seeing constellations whenever you looked up at the sky, no matter where you stood. I raised my head and looked at the sky. More precisely, I looked at the ceiling of the city, which I had spent my entire life thinking of as the sky.

What reflected in my eyes was not a vast expanse of night sky, much less brilliantly shining constellations.

Thick smoke. Countless chunks of ore precariously embedded in the ceiling. Only the artificial light those ores produced reflected in my eyes. This city had neither a sky nor constellations.

'Well, of course it doesn't.'

A derisive laugh slipped from my lips.

As if I could see stars in this city.

... Atman, the underground city.

A place even the sun, which shone equally upon all things in the world, refused to illuminate. A place therefore steeped in darkness day and night, through all four seasons. A city that depended on artificial light from ore because the sun never rose here.

The people up above had a name for this place.

The landfill.

A place where discarded trash was buried.

2.

Atman, the underground city.

The people who lived here generally fell into two categories, divided as follows.

Either they had been banished here from up above.

Or they were the offspring of banished bastards and bitches who had hooked up.

I belonged to the latter category.

That meant I was born destined to spend my entire life in this city despite having committed no particular crime. Of course, that was only my opinion. The fine people up above seemed to think a little differently.

The spawn produced by trash copulating would naturally be trash. Their birth had made the world filthier, so being born was itself a sin.

That was the average mindset up above, and their general attitude toward this city. By their logic, I had been a sinner from birth, and so I would have to rot here for the rest of my life.

「... How pitiful.」

「Such a shame for someone so young.」

Plenty of people pitied me. But their sympathy wasn't particularly welcome. I had no idea what the outside world looked like in the first place.

The warm sun they spoke of. The vast green fields. The blue sea that supposedly stretched beyond the horizon.

I had never seen any of them, and I couldn't even imagine what they looked like. It was hard to yearn for things I couldn't so much as picture in my mind. So, to be honest, I wasn't particularly interested in the outside world.

There was just one thing.

If anything interested me...

“Stars.”

I murmured without thinking.

“Stars, Constellations, heroes.”

I reached out and picked up a storybook.

It was a book I had happened to get my hands on when I was very young, titled 「The Life of Arthur」. I opened the storybook, worn and tattered from countless rereadings.

「The Life of Arthur」 was a tale of a hero.

It told the life story of a hero who had lived more than several hundred years ago. In the story, Arthur drew a sword embedded in a stone that no one else had been able to pull free, then crossed the continent with nothing but that single sword.

As a knight. And as a hero.

After saving countless people and cutting down countless demons, Arthur became a Constellation at the end of his journey. The thirteen great feats he had accomplished became stars, inscribed in the night sky.

“A constellation.”

I opened the storybook to its final page.

It was the page I had turned to most often, because it contained an illustration of Arthur's constellation. In silence, I gazed at the constellation filling the entire page.

Thirteen stars.

A constellation formed by stars connected in the shape of a sword.

As I gazed at it, the short passage beside the illustration caught my eye.

「Wherever you stand upon this land.」

「Look up at the sky, and you will see the stars.」

I raised my head and looked at the sky.

Naturally, there wasn't a chance in hell of seeing any stars.

“I can't see shit, you fucker.”

A sigh slipped from my lips. Yes, I had no interest in anything else outside... but there was one thing I wanted to see with my own eyes: those constellations.

I didn't know why.

I just wanted to see stars.

It was simple curiosity, a fantasy. Since it was a dream that could never come true anyway, it was no different from a delusion.

“Life.”

Looking up at the sky, I suddenly remembered something.

Come to think of it, there was a saying like that, too. Never insult the stars while looking up at the sky. Wherever you were, as long as you were looking at the stars, they could hear your voice.

'I can't even see the stars. How would they hear me swearing?'

Picturing Arthur's constellation in my mind, I raised my middle finger toward the sky. Along with the gesture, I tried tossing out a casual insult. Wasn't he just a man who had made a name for himself because he happened to be born in the right era? An insulting taunt Arthur would surely find hard to ignore if he heard it.

One second, two seconds, three seconds... and then a minute.

Naturally, no divine punishment came crashing down. Yeah, figured as much. I sighed and got to my feet. I had plenty to do today.

“Ugh.”

I'd hoped for divine punishment, at least. It seemed better than living such a boring life.

3.

A little while after the boy left.

Above the underground city of Atman, higher still than the enormous city built over it, a constellation glittered in the vast night sky. It was not Arthur's constellation, the one the boy had seen in his storybook.

Not the sword constellation made of thirteen stars, but the constellation like a tranquil lake that stood watch beside it.

A tranquil lake holding stars, so that its king, deep in slumber, could rest with his eyes peacefully closed. That ever-tranquil constellation suddenly scattered brilliant light. In a way, it resembled the fury of a star.

The Constellation, the Staff of Selection.

The constellation that had accompanied Arthur from the beginning of his journey to its end.

Merlin, the Mage of the Lake.

Merlin's lake-shaped constellation surged violently. Deep within it, her true form stared down at the earth with eyes wide open. The voice of an impudent boy echoed in her ears.

Arthur was just a man who had made a name for himself because he was born in the right era.

If he'd been born in this age, he would've been nothing.

Pissed off? Want to argue?

Then come down here and smite me or something.

The remarks were so profoundly insulting that she had no idea where to begin correcting them, or how. For the first time in ages, Merlin felt the back of her neck grow hot.

“Wow.”

With an incredulous laugh, Merlin swept back her hair. Her pale blue-white locks rippled through her slender fingers.

“What kind of deranged bastard is this?”

Merlin's eyes grew bloodshot.