Gilbert Durandal

December, PLANT.

As a newly promoted White Coat, Nebula Medal recipient, and commander of the new battleship Vesalius, Rau Le Creuset was currently relaxing in his pajamas at his detached house in December City.

No matter his status, he was still human, and naturally, he needed rest just like everyone else.

Ding-dong~

The doorbell rang.

Disturbed, Le Creuset put on his mask and headed for the door.

"Pajamas?"

The long-haired man in a green councilor's uniform standing outside looked taken aback. Clearly, he hadn't expected to see this.

Le Creuset, standing in the doorway, asked in response, "You seem surprised?"

"Everyone has things they can't know, things beyond their understanding. I'm no exception."

The long-haired man replied with a light laugh.

"That joke of yours is hilarious."

Le Creuset said coldly, then turned and walked toward the living room.

The long-haired man smiled faintly at the sight, then followed him inside.

Le Creuset's living room was very plain, with only the basic furniture. The long-haired man had expected as much.

By the coffee table.

Le Creuset took off his mask and set it on the table, then asked the man before him, "I heard the people at the Genetic Research Institute summoned you a few days ago."

"You know even about something so minor. You must really care about me." The long-haired man replied with a light laugh.

"Aren't we friends?"

Le Creuset understood what the other man meant, but he had his own reasons.

"Of course."

"Then don't you think it's nice when friends show concern for each other?" Le Creuset continued.

"Hmm, you're right. So when I heard you were back, I came right over to see you. Are you touched?" The long-haired man replied with a smile.

"Deeply touched."

Le Creuset didn't pursue the topic. Instead, he asked, "I only have coffee here. Would you like some?"

"I'm not picky." The long-haired man replied with a light laugh.

"Is that because, in your eyes, everything has its own unique value?"

Le Creuset asked in return.

The long-haired man turned to look at Le Creuset. A calm, warm smile gradually appeared on his face.

Le Creuset met his gaze impassively.

"Why do we always have to take little digs at each other?"

After a moment, the long-haired man broke the silence with a light laugh. "I'll take sugar in my coffee, thanks."

"What a fussy guy."

Le Creuset said, then turned and walked over to where the coffee machine was kept.

The long-haired man took off his councilor's jacket and tossed it onto the sofa. Standing where he was, he looked around, searching for anything that had changed since he last remembered the place.

The decor and furniture in a home could indirectly reflect parts of its owner's personality and character.

It wasn't deliberate, but rather an unconscious acceptance.

A short while later.

Le Creuset came out with two cups of coffee and said to the long-haired man, who was looking around, "Why did you come to see me?"

"So direct?" The long-haired man seemed surprised by Le Creuset's frankness.

"Sorry, I don't have any sugar. The coffee might not suit your taste, so I won't keep you here long."

Le Creuset gave his reason.

"That is rather unfortunate." The long-haired man nodded, sat down on the sofa, and picked up his coffee. "Not long ago, I received a rather unusual request. They wanted me to go to the Genetic Research Institute and take a look at something."

"They're asking a councilor like you to inspect it? Whatever it is must be rather unusual." Le Creuset remarked.

The PLANT Supreme Council was the highest decision-making body. Beneath it was a sixty-member parliament, while each colony had a district chief and an administrative team.

The political system was a republic. District chiefs and other officials were chosen through mutual selection, but they couldn't run for election.

Each PLANT colony was one district, and ten districts made up one city.

PLANT cities were a kind of mutual-aid association.

When a district faced a situation it couldn't handle, other districts would offer support.

Thus, city governments weren't administrative units responsible for implementing unified policies.

Nor was there a city mayor or city-level parliament established for the sake of administrative convenience.

However, to unify PLANT's position, PLANT had established a sixty-member parliament.

And the man before him was a member of the parliament representing one of its cities—Gilbert Durandal.

"That's right."

Durandal nodded.

"And then?" Le Creuset continued.

"There is no 'then.' I simply wanted to share this good news with you." Durandal replied with a light laugh.

"So that unusual thing has something to do with Eno Kamal?" Le Creuset seemed to have guessed the reason for the visit.

"I'm not sure. It might be related, or it might not." Durandal replied with a light laugh.

Le Creuset fell silent.

A moment later, after apparently considering the situation, Le Creuset took a sip of coffee and said candidly, "You may already know this, but he isn't my target."

"Looks like I guessed right." Durandal nodded, clearly having expected that answer.

"So what are you planning to do?" Le Creuset asked in return.

"I only came to share my happiness and confirm my answer." Durandal said with a smile.

"Based on the current situation, he should already know he's been exposed and be preparing to save himself."

Le Creuset continued his calm analysis. "First, he'll become an MS pilot to lower the suspicions of his superiors. After graduating, he'll look for a chance to get to the front lines, then escape this mess by piloting an MS alone from some battlefield—"

"If I don't interfere, the odds of this plan succeeding are practically one hundred percent. Of course, once it succeeds, he'll become a corpse that can't speak—"

At the end, Le Creuset turned his head toward Durandal. "So, do you want him dead or alive?"

"Everyone has a fate they can't escape. No one is an exception."

Durandal smiled faintly. "Whether he lives or dies, that's his fate."

"Fate. What a profoundly uninteresting thing."

Le Creuset had once scoffed at the idea of fate, even disdained it.

But as time passed, he gradually realized that fate could indeed be frustrating at times.

"It really is uninteresting." Durandal nodded, acknowledging Le Creuset's response.

"Then what will you do if I accidentally shatter this fate you speak of?" Le Creuset asked.

Durandal's hand, holding his coffee, paused slightly. He turned his head toward Le Creuset and said, "A fate that can be shattered was only ever meant to exist until that moment."

"Heh, I'm beginning to think you're turning into a fortune-teller."

Le Creuset couldn't help laughing at that.

"If that's my fate, then there's nothing wrong with it." Durandal replied with a smile.

About ten minutes later.

Durandal drove away from the house in his green councilor's uniform.

Watching the car disappear into the distance, Le Creuset's expression gradually grew grave and complicated.

Durandal never did anything without a reason.

Or rather, everyone's actions had their own unique meaning.

But what was the point of Durandal telling him all this?

There was no doubt that Durandal had discovered something about Eno Kamal.

But what exactly had he discovered?

Le Creuset didn't even know what kind of reaction he should give.

Because he didn't know what reaction Durandal wanted from him.

Under such uncertainty, any choice or action he made could become the very action Durandal wanted.

"Heh, what a troublesome guy."

Feeling his thoughts thrown into disarray by the other man, Le Creuset smiled faintly and closed the door.

He wasn't sure what Durandal wanted, and there was no need to find out.

All he needed to know was what he wanted, and to work toward it.

Hadn't he always lived that way?