2

2020.

Humanity faced an invasion from beings that arrived from beyond the stars.

Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that only the so-called "developed nations" of Earth—those often referred to as "first-world countries"—could call it an "invasion."

The representatives of the Galactic Federation, upon observing how Earth operated, declared the planet's superpowers guilty of "violations of law."

These superpowers, who had long exploited the wealth of their nations, were deemed culpable not only for the suffering of middle-income and developing countries but also for oppressing countries unable to even begin "development."

The Federation also paid special attention to the Earth's deteriorating ecosystem, groaning under humanity's environmental destruction—an ecosystem that included the human population itself.

To the Galactic Federation, humans appeared to be a species, choking itself into extinction.

The Galactic Federation acted swiftly.

Although its name implies membership on a planetary scale, the Galactic Federation respects the independence of individual nations.

Structurally, it operates more like a loose union—similar to the European Union—where membership is granted to individual nations or colonies.

This interstellar superpower began inviting Earth's nations to join the Federation, starting with the poorest countries that would rank last in any "wealth order" of the planet.

Ironically, the countries that eventually joined the Federation were those suffering the most under global inequality.

The so-called "developed nations," on the other hand, refused to join.

The countries that joined saw their development skyrocket at an unprecedented pace.

Naturally, the superpowers opposed this.

The Federation's expansionist policies disrupted the status quo of space exploration and development, which had been dominated by these wealthy nations at astronomical costs.

Warp points directly connecting to the Federation's headquarters were established, ambassadorial stations were built, and shipyards for constructing Federation spacecraft were erected on Earth.

These developments rendered the space exploration plans of the superpowers—painstakingly crafted over decades—obsolete overnight.

Outraged, the developed nations cried out in unison:

"This is an invasion!"

Christmas Eve, Gwanghwamun Square.

A loud, obnoxious voice rose from a group of demonstrators holding large placards.

"This is nothing but colonization! Think about it! If they align with the North, what kind of disaster will we face?"

The claim was absurdly exaggerated.

The Galactic Federation, conscious of its public image, would never ally with despots after condemning superpowers for illegal practices.

Any potential threats were dealt with "thoroughly" before those nations were invited to join the Federation.

They are aliens, after all. Such things must come naturally to them.

Ironically, the nations the Federation most desired to join were the very superpowers it initially excluded.

Even for extraterrestrials, countries clutching nuclear weapons or leading alliances of other powerful nations appeared far too dangerous.

Any misstep could lead to catastrophic war, tarnishing the Federation's reputation.

Earth fit the trope of a "hellish planet" perfectly: a species with "mediocre technology but absurdly advanced weaponry."

To avoid triggering Earth's "panic button," the Federation adopted a subtler approach:

"We possess superior technology. If you don't cooperate with us, we'll elevate the nations beneath you to surpass your own wealth."

– Would that even work?

The media I had consumed painted this as a kind of absurd comedy—a parody of magical girl tropes warped into the author's whimsical narrative.

It was the kind of story where you'd expect someone to shout:

"These Earthlings are truly despicable!"

And yet, here I was, clutching a paper bag containing the soundtrack album of an animated film I'd recently watched in theaters.

It wasn't some limited edition, just a regular plastic CD case.

In an era of unlimited streaming services, spending my meager budget on such a physical indulgence felt extravagant.

Yet, hobbies, by nature, belong to the realm of emotion, not logic or efficiency.

Music creators meticulously composed and sequenced these tracks, producing a tangible "collection" that resonated deeply with me.

After all, even the most grueling realities demand a touch of healing.

The moment was interrupted by the sharp beep of my smartwatch.

"Ugh, come on."

A call-to-arms notification blinked on the screen:

Combat personnel are to assemble in full gear at Dongmyo Station within 30 minutes.

I frowned deeply.

Could they not give us more time? Thirty minutes? If I were at the orphanage, there'd be no way I'd make it.

As I heaved a sigh and quickened my pace, I muttered to myself:

"Of course, it's Christmas. What's Christmas without a battle between an evil organization and magical girls?"

I exhaled deeply.

"People can't live on money alone!"

The magical girl shouted as she confronted the executive.

"If people like you start driving small business owners out, the world will undoubtedly fall into the hands of corporations."

"Keh-heh-heh, and what's wrong with that? If everyone becomes an employee of a big company, wouldn't that solve everything? Hm? We pay way more than a convenience store owner could dream of!"

"That's because no one knows what you're really up to in the background."

"My, my, a mere vigilante group trying to punish a respectable corporate figure."

The man, dressed like a high-ranking company official, removed the tall silk hat he was wearing and held it in his hand.

"In that case… we'll just have to take action. Legally, of course, young lady!"

"That's what I hoped for! Happy Cherry Blossom will defeat you in the name of justice!"

The work of corporations usually involves buying land and tormenting those who work there.

The government usually turns a blind eye to this because, in truth, these plans are orchestrated behind the scenes for "a certain purpose."

And that purpose benefits the government as well.

Though the executive called Blossom illegal, she barely skirts the line of legality herself.

After all, the government overlooks her actions too.

Wouldn't it reflect poorly on the country if the corporations they approved of went too far?

They subtly act like they're supporting the side of justice, all the while weighing their options.

Is it better to continue buying corporate technology?

Or is it wiser to align with the Galactic Federation?

This "show" is partly a way to gauge that balance.

"Let's go!"

The foreman shouted, and the truck's rear doors opened.

We poured out in a rush.

We were trained to some extent—not completely weak, but—

"Aha."

"…!"

The sound in front of us made us all look up simultaneously.

Beep-beep-beep!

Seventy percent.

I didn't need to look to know the circuits were running; I could feel the vibrations on my wrist.

Oh, crap, we picked the wrong target.

"Isn't the same decoy operation three times in a row getting a bit stale?"

Step, step.

From the darkness beyond the streetlight, a figure slowly emerged—a girl wearing a purple off-shoulder dress despite the weather.

She looked about my age.

Her light lavender ponytail shimmered under the streetlight, and her skin, for some reason, glowed as if a mist filter was placed over a camera lens.

Click.

In her hand was a long rifle.

It looked like an old bolt-action rifle from World War II, but instead of using gunpowder, it was powered by circuits that generated magical energy.

Her circuits moved in the exact opposite direction of ours.

Instead of bullets, it used disposable fuses to prevent the gun from overloading and exploding when fired.

"You won't ever reach Blossom. This 'Iris' will send you all to a peaceful place."

Beep-beep-beep!

Eighty-five percent.

But against that "Happy Iris," there was no chance.

She's not the type to hold back.

"Damn it, scatter!" the foreman shouted.

Before he could finish his sentence—

Pshuk.

The sound came from Iris's rifle, like a silenced gun from a movie.

But then—

Kwai-!

Chilling.

The spot where the foreman had been standing was now a deep crater.

For a moment, the brightness was so intense that the dim surroundings became impossible to see.

I immediately turned to run.

Bang!

It probably wouldn't kill me.

Magical girls aren't murderers.

But I'd likely break a few bones and be found somewhere far off.

That's how Iris's "magic" worked.

"Oh my."

Iris laughed.

"You won't escape so easily★"

I heard a giggle, followed by the sound of her leaping.

But I didn't hear her land.

From above…!

"Of—"

Bang!

The "Earth Smasher" didn't even finish his scream before vanishing.

"Eek!"

Ninety-five percent.

The circuits whirred like crazy.

At this rate, running away was meaningless.

I stopped in my tracks.

At least, through the helmet, I could see better now than before.

Half of our squad was already gone.

The ground around me was riddled with craters.

"Oh my?"

Iris's eyes narrowed.

"Ah, I remember. That scratch on your helmet. You're—an Earthling, aren't you?"

Iris spoke while standing in midair.

"One with circuits."

I swung my arm.

From the circuit on my left wrist, a black blade emerged.

Though it looked pathetically weak compared to Iris's circuit weapon—

"Good. I'll capture you alive, then. I'll adjust my output so you don't fly too far."

Iris aimed her rifle at me as she spoke.

"I'm quite interested in your circuits."

Damn, I should've just kept running.

Or maybe I shouldn't have stepped out at all.

Why is this happening on Christmas?