Toaru Majutsu no Index:GT Volume10 Epilogue
Epilogue: Kamijou Touma – Notice_of_the_Death.[edit]
The gears of society were very well made.
Even during such an unusual situation, there was a system in place to swiftly extract the patient from the center of the madness and search out the shortest route to transport them to the closest hospital.
An ambulance had arrived.
Several girls hopped into the back of the same vehicle.
“Fool. Damn, his heart has completely stopped!!”
“So what? There are plenty of ways to restart a stopped heart. I’m more worried about the ambulance. It was lucky it was nearby, but it’ll be blocked by the rioters on its way to the hospital. Alice Anotherbible has been pacified, but that doesn’t mean the crowds flooding the streets will head home right away!”
“Should we go knock them out of the way?”
“Calm your weird excitement and face reality, villain. Emotional arguments will only waste precious time. More importantly…hey, there’s a radio in this ambulance, isn’t there? Call one of those things. Don’t even try to tell me Academy City doesn’t have them!!”
The ambulance couldn’t do its job with the streets flooded with rioters, but its radio was still functioning. No matter how full the streets were, a helicopter ambulance could still get through.
The stretcher was reloaded in a large park.
The boy strapped to it with thick belts didn’t say a word.
He was only luggage.
An object.
“Emergency transport request, 1 patient, a teenage boy, condition is DOA! His wounds? I don’t know. I just don’t. I’ve been doing this job for twenty years now, but I can’t imagine how he got wounds like this!!”
“J-just send the photos and data to the hospital. That’ll be faster!!”
The EMTs showed no restraint as they shouted to each other.
Even though they were a kind of professional, they were in too much of a hurry to give a thought to the boy’s acquaintances in the helicopter with them.
“Damn, we were delayed by a few minutes. Close up the wounds and don’t let his temperature drop. Our job is getting him to the doctors.”
“But…I’m pretty sure it’s already too-”
“Shut up!! He’s still a patient until a licensed doctor has officially declared him dead. I don’t know why you’ve decided you want to transfer out of this job, but don’t give up on a life when you’re not even qualified!!”
The helicopter ambulance conversed over the radio on its way to the nearest hospital’s heliport.
The landing was careful and flawless.
The loading hatch on the rear yawned open.
Hard, heavy metallic sounds swelled out.
It was hard to tell if they were unloading a person or medical equipment.
It looked like the stretcher had as much machinery, electric cords, liquid-filled bags, and tubes attached as they could manage.
Academy City had (unofficially) made cyborg tech practical.
Ultimately, he didn’t need any of his organs. Most of the human body’s functions could be handled with external life support devices that didn’t need to be shrunk until they would fit inside the body. In the modern day, people could go on living with a few of their biological organs crushed. It didn’t matter if it was handled internally or externally – as long as they breathed, had a pulse, and had brainwaves, then they were “alive” medically speaking. As long as the cycle of ingestion, production, transportation, consumption, and expulsion was maintained, then a human could continue living from a biological perspective.
Think of it like a simple electric circuit made from a battery and a light bulb.
If the cord completing the circuit was cut, the light bulb’s light would go out.
The circuit’s stability would vanish.
But if two batteries were hooked up in parallel, you could cut one of the cords and the light bulb would continue to shine.
The stability would remain despite the destruction.
This simply applied that logic to the extremely complex and advanced field of biology, including electrophysiology, molecular biology, and hematology.
The ancient idea of the “soul” could be spoofed with cutting edge technology.
It was a lot like the “deception” done by a stage magician or a food sample craftsman.
It was a happy trick done to please everyone.
Nevertheless.
Even with all that advanced technology, not a single noise came from that boy’s body.
His condition was on a level beyond all of that.
His bangs blew in the chilly night wind.
But even that looked like weeds on the roadside. There was no will there.
It was even crueler than a complete absence of motion.
The special monitor thinner than a piece of copy paper displayed only a flat horizontal line. Indicating the number zero. And an equally flat tone played on and on forever.
That was all.
Everyone listened to that merciless tone.
An emergency transport team, some doctors, and – for some reason – a couple of non-medical people were out on the dangerous roof.
“Eek!?”
That quiet shriek came from Misaka Mikoto.
The girl who had been left behind.
The fighter held in reserve.
She felt like this was her karmic retribution for always being so close to that boy but never managing to see any of it through to the definitive end.
Another girl was also out on the heliport.
She spoke with her long honey-blonde hair buffeted by the helicopter wind.
The girl bore a different kind of karma from Mikoto.
“I told you this would eventually happen if you kept on like that.”
The tone grew more distant.
The people surrounding the stretcher were yelling at each other as they quickly withdrew into the hospital. Were they headed to the operating room, or the intensive care unit?
Had they given up yet?
Had they still not accepted the truth?
Were they afraid they would realize the truth if they let themselves come to a stop?
Everything became silent.
Finally.
But…
Index had been on the helicopter ambulance, but she hadn’t been able to disembark.
She couldn’t move at all.
She simply held her hands over her mouth.
The pure girl had crystal tears in the corners of her eyes. She covered her entire face with her hands.
Darkness had been thrust before her.
A sign of parting.
Of death.
“…”
She couldn’t speak a single word.
Was her perfect memory a curse at times like this? Or was it a blessing because it allowed the boy to remain forever with her, even if only in her head?
Eventually, the frog-faced doctor slowly shook his head.
“January 6, 11:58 PM.”
That side-to-side motion said it all.
The doctor who never gave up still said the words here.
“The transported patient has been confirmed deceased. There is nothing I can do when he’s already dead.”
Kamijou Touma never made it to January 7, the final day of winter break.
His death had already been confirmed.
