This is beyond imagination.
The church grounds are packed with people as far as the eye can see. They’re all gathered, staring up at the cathedral, waiting for the moment of the miracle.
I figured a lot of people would show up, but… It feels like the entire country has converged here.
Not a single person glances our way. No one would ever guess that the Pegasus—a model, no less, is hidden atop the seminary building.
The oracle said the Pegasus would descend upon the cathedral, so naturally, all eyes are on it. It’s a perfectly logical train of thought.
Having something you can believe in that much is a blessing. The trust the church has built up… It’s both a privilege and a curse to be part of it.
“Here we go, huh?”
Beside me, the observation specialist peers down at the ground, her voice trembling with excitement.
Bathed in the full moon’s light, her profile looks unnaturally pale.
“You all did great.”
And I mean it, they really did.
We didn’t exactly have time to spare. But up until tonight, we’ve stacked every preparation we could manage.
The rehearsal was flawless. The finished model was jaw-droppingly high quality, flying smoothly through the cleared-out oracle chamber without a hitch.
It even has a homing function to fly toward a designated marker on its own. A masterpiece the design specialist hammered out overnight after getting fired up. I put him through the wringer with all those redesigns… Maybe I’ll slip him a book he’d like once this is over.
The fireworks are just as crucial as the model, but we obviously couldn’t test them secretly or find a spot to launch them.
That said, our explosives expert’s got it covered. I’m sure they’ve nailed it perfectly.
“So we’re good.”
The weather’s clear with a light breeze. The cloudless night sky holds only the full moon aloft with perfect flying conditions.
From here to the cathedral, it’ll have to soar over the crowd’s heads. That was the production specialist’s insistent demand for maximum drama.
It’s made things a bit trickier, but for us, it’s a piece of cake. Tonight, we’re going to blow the minds of everyone gathered here.
*GONG* *GONG*
As the midnight bell tolls, I rip off the cloth hiding the model.
A winged white horse is revealed.
Pointed little ears, a thick flowing mane, wings so stunning even a swan would be jealous—all masterpieces poured over by the sewing specialist.
The other specialists’ work is just as impressive.
The muscle lines from the neck to the chest, the taut waist, the slender yet swift-looking legs, the realism is uncanny.
A sound of gears meshing starts up from inside its body. Low at first, then rising higher. The wings, made of wood and fabric, flap faster in sync. The wind they generate makes it hard to stay standing.
And finally, the model lifts off. It’s perfectly balanced.
“Takeoff successful.”
Hearing the observation specialist’s concise report, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders.
We can’t let our guard down yet, but as long as it flies straight to the marker, we’re golden. Once it lands on the cathedral roof, the team waiting there will handle the launch. If it gets that far, the show’s as good as a success.
The Pegasus model surges forward.
Framed against the full moon, it’s quite a sight. Truly dynamic.
Anyone who suspects it’s a fake at this point would have to be seriously cynical.
Of course, no such skeptics are in the crowd. As people spot the model, cheers erupt one after another. They wave their arms frantically, pointing at the sky and shouting something.
Yeah, that’s the reaction you’d expect.
Even I might’ve been moved if I were watching from their side. Calling it God’s blessing and—wait, what!?
The moon vanishes.
Thick, heavy-looking clouds swell up, blotting out the clear night sky.
Rain starts falling.
In no time, it’s a downpour—my priest robes are soaked through, and it’s hard to breathe. The sheer volume of raindrops pelting down indiscriminately is unreal, even for a summer shower.
“Leader, what do we do?”
“…”
There’s no turning back now. The model’s already above the crowd.
Even if we tried to distract them, this rain’s too much. The fireworks are probably drenched and useless by now.
All we can do is watch.
Even so, our model holds strong. It keeps flapping its waterlogged wings toward the cathedral roof.
I don’t know why… but seeing it struggle to fly starts to feel oddly valiant.
“Go for it!”
It seems some in the crowd feel the same.
Voices of encouragement rise up, drowning out the rain. Before I know it, the spectacle has turned into a cheering rally.
Thanks to that, the model staggers but clears the sea of people.
The cathedral roof is just ahead… Almost there. The cheers grow louder.
But the rain is merciless. It intensifies into a torrent, hammering the model like a waterfall, as if scrubbing away stubborn dirt with obsessive precision.
And then, it happens.
The wings buckle under the water pressure, the nose dips down, and it plummets.
The impact with the ground snaps its legs, and the body splits open. Wood fragments, cotton, and gears spill out from the tear.
The only silver lining is that no one was at the crash site. But the motionless Pegasus speaks volumes about its true nature.
Undeniably, unmistakably, a fake.
—It’s over.
Amid the suddenly weakening rain, a roaring sound fills the air. Is it the earth trembling, or just my ears ringing?
No… it’s outrage. The bitter cries of a betrayed crowd.
The warm encouragement from moments ago flips into screams, curses, and a swirling storm of every negative emotion imaginable.
And why wouldn’t it? The trick behind the oracle was exposed right in front of the masses.
An irreparable blunder. Yet, strangely, I feel a sense of acceptance.
Maybe deep down, I foresaw this outcome.
The fate of villains is never anything good, that’s a given.