The Signalers, synchronized by magic, felt the same things and shared the same information through their unique powers. Having established a set way of perceiving things, even their manner of speaking became similar over time. It was as if the Military State had achieved the ability to mass-produce human beings.

But, of course, that wasn’t the case.

If they had perfected it, why would they need to lock Signalers in windowless rooms?

"You can communicate with each other, right? So why didn’t you help your comrade when she was on the verge of death?"

It was a moral accusation. IA, having spent her entire life confined to a room, hesitated for a moment before responding.

"It is the rule of the Signalers…."

"Quiet! We deal with the urgent first!"

I interrupted her, intending to nudge Y to act with my gaze, but there was no need. Y was already administering the medicine. She tilted the card I’d given her, allowing the contents of the Heart Nine to pool in her mouth, then opened Z’s mouth and let the liquid flow inside.

Everyone fell silent, watching them intently. Y, who was desperately administering the medicine, suddenly convulsed violently before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.

A few among us were disturbed, but it was mostly those on our side. The Signalers, however, remained unfazed, even as one of their own had just fallen.

"The so-called medicine was a lie."

"Poison? Or perhaps a drug?"

"This module lacks the means to resist enemy attacks. Why resort to lies?"

"He is known as a swindler from Amitengrad. Surely, his intent is to deceive this module."

IA and the other Signalers were indifferent. Perhaps they had anticipated this outcome, viewing Y’s collapse as nothing more than a confirmation of my hostility.

But there was one exception.

"Liar!"

X alone strode towards me, filled with intense anger. Historia quickly moved to block her path, but I raised my hand, signaling her to stop.

I needed them to think and judge for themselves.

"Did you plan to deal with all of us from the start? Knowing what Signalers are, did you intend to continue your attacks?"

X’s anger was raw and genuine. I could have dragged this out further, but there was no need to complicate things unnecessarily. I spoke plainly.

"The potion I used is Heart Nine, the 'False Death' medicine. It induces a temporary death-like state in the person who consumes it."

"A death-like state? Why would you use such a thing…?"

"Becoming a vessel means you’ve ripped out your very soul. They’re lucky to be alive, but they won’t last much longer. To restore their soul…."

I made a cutting motion across my throat.

"You’ve heard of life flashing before your eyes, right? When you’re close to death, or experience severe shock, your entire life comes rushing back in an instant."

Any device that malfunctions can often be reset by turning it off and back on again. The same is true for humans.

When a near-death shock sweeps through the body, the nerves that had shut down are reset, and the memories stored in the body are reawakened.

"So, by letting them ‘die’ and come back, a significant part of their soul is restored. I had to use the medicine to trigger that phenomenon. Now, want to check for yourself?"

Still unsure, X activated her unique magic again. Unlike Y or Z, X hadn’t suffered much damage from summoning Aemeder, and her magic still functioned properly, connecting her to Y and Z.

"...! The synchronization…!"

Though imperfect, the connection was restored. The unique magic that had been heavily damaged moments ago was partially repaired.

X realized that what I had said was true. And thanks to their synchronization, all of the Signalers understood the same truth. X changed her tone.

"...Thank you for your help."

"It’s no problem. I just happened to have the right tool for the job."

The right tool to pry you open.

I concealed my true intentions behind a friendly smile aimed at X.

"Take care of those two. You seem to be the most reliable one here."

X felt gratitude towards me and gently laid them down.

Whoever designed the Military State had created a remarkably solid system. Governing through isolated Signalers who communicated with the State’s every corner—it was impressive even from my perspective.

But it was still just that—impressive. A world governed by philosopher-kings was a common ideal. Everyone aspired to be a philosopher-king, standing above the rest.

The Military State, which filled that role with Signalers, was remarkable, but it couldn’t escape its fundamental limitations.

No matter how well-designed, Signalers were still human.

"That reminds me. I’m starting to feel angry. You there! You called me a liar, didn’t you?"

I strode over to U, sticking my face close to hers. Startled by my sudden focus, she backed away, but I closed the gap quickly and barked at her.

"Do you even know who I am to call me a liar? Do you think a swindler from the slums could make it this far?!"

"T-that’s not what I meant. It’s just that, according to the information I’ve gathered…."

"Information? You think you can sum me up with some second-hand information? Can you explain who I am with just the data you’ve collected?"

U fell silent, unable to respond. She, unlike most Signalers, seemed to take pride in her work, and this minor misstep filled her with shame.

Yes, that’s it. Even in the same situation, the smallest differences in how we feel make all the difference. That subtle emotion—those small gaps exist because humans are inherently emotional and impulsive.

After finishing my tirade, I resumed walking slowly as I spoke.

"I have no intention of killing or harming any of you. The reason I came here is to restore the value of humanity."

They were all listening to me. After all, a module of Signalers is synchronized in real-time.

But would they all hear the same thing?

"The Military State doesn’t care about people. It only oppresses, punishes, and controls. In their governance, there is no compassion. They imprison mothers who steal to feed their starving children alongside hardened criminals. Even if you speak your mind, if it goes against the State’s ideology, they crush you underfoot. They don’t consider the heart behind it at all."

I continued walking until I reached P, then sharply turned my head and shouted.

"It’s the same for you Signalers, slowly dying in your tiny rooms!!"

"Kyaah!"

P, who was particularly sensitive to such stimuli, yelped and fell on her backside. Signalers can maintain their composure when communicating through golems, but without that, they’re just ordinary people.

I smirked at her before moving close to R’s face.

"I can’t accept a nation like this. A place where there’s no joy that comes by chance, no fleeting luxury or pleasure, no moments of inspiration from seeing someone or whimsically changing your mind. A country where people come before rules. I want a place like that!"

"Why are you telling me this…?"

"Have you never thought about it? When sentencing a criminal according to the law—one who sold their conscience for a few coins and another who stole money to save their dying family—are they the same crime? Should they be punished equally?"

R, who managed the laws and rulings within the Signalers, would likely take my words seriously. Slowly, I delivered a different message to each person. Like wedging open a crack and then prying it wider, bit by bit.

"You are wrong! I don’t know who taught you to think this way, but you’re completely wrong! Do you think locking yourselves in steel walls, talking only through golems, and having secret conversations makes you objective? No! That’s abandonment! That’s giving up! If you’re really the ones running the Military State, you can’t afford to stop thinking!"

Perhaps sensing something was off, IA, the one overseeing this module, tried to cut me off.

"Your arguments are meaningless. Without offering a better alternative, your opinions…."

"Shut up! I don’t care about the opinions of a bystander like you!"

I slapped her again. IA fell with a resounding smack, momentarily showing a hint of frustration.

Her unique magic was the type that bound multiple nearby Signalers—like the class leader, if this were a classroom. Her power was strong enough within close range to bind all 25 of the Signalers here.

That’s why her opinions didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let her speak. I intended to suppress her completely.

Feel like you’re going to explode from frustration? Good.

"You talk too much. Historia, can you keep her quiet while I finish?"

"Is that really necessary?"

"It is. If you won’t do it, I’ll just gag her myself."

Considering that gagging IA would be more humiliating, Historia moved behind her and covered her mouth. Historia’s restraint, being one of the Six-Star Generals, was more effective than any shackle, and unlike shackles, her restraint possessed intelligence.

Now completely silenced, IA was forced to sit and watch me as I spoke.

"You are doing a good job. The Military State is still standing, so that much is clear. But you are human, and you are not always right."

I raised my hand. The card I’d broken earlier, the Heart Ten. It should have been red, but with the liquid drained out, it was now a pale gray. I held it between two fingers.

"For instance, like this. If I could restore this broken card to its original state…."

After folding it a couple of times and blowing on it, the card returned to its crimson hue.

I waved the restored Heart card with pride.

"Do you think any of you, who’ve spent your entire lives in a cramped room, could understand what I just did?"

Logic alone can’t explain this phenomenon. Some of the Signalers felt a strange urge—not curiosity, but a desire to observe.

Having been confined to their rooms, Signalers had developed a kind of acquired voyeurism. Without golems, they were simply locked away in steel boxes, so they connected to the golems on their own to see the world.

And the easiest people to fool with magic are those who encounter it for the first time.

"There’s no need to pay attention to him. Clearly, he’s just playing tricks. There’s nothing fascinating about it."

Only one, S, tried to cut off their curiosity entirely.

But that was the wrong approach. Calling it a trick meant half-admitting that magic might be real. If they hadn’t been interested at all, that would be one thing, but such a statement would only serve as bait.