Movement the First: Introitus

Too Many Years Ago:

Coming to think about it, he wasn't actually sure why he left, considering all that remained of "home".

My god, was trying to just live a monumental task.

While it wasn't said out loud, he might as well have said it when he collapsed on his side in the endless fields of rubble All around him, the darkened skies of endless, twinkling night shown without care. Under his fingers, soil, rock, and concrete was all an unrecognizable mess of rusted dust. Any whole chunks clung together, begging to be smashed apart into powder, like sand stuck together. Every so often, he could see unearthed volcanoes and magma flows in the distance, throwing ash everywhere. Volcanoes constantly sprouting, volatile magic screwing with everything.

He wasn't sure of what he was stepping on. It could be just burned dust, or it could be the magically induced ash of the majority of the population. It didn't matter anymore. Dragging the battered canister of oxygen over to himself, he brought the mouthpiece over his face and gave another ailing groan, delaying death for a few seconds more.

Why did he stay? Did his ridiculous pride finally returned to bite him in the ass? He didn't really care to answer. All he knew was it hurt. Breathing was painful, his head was always swimming with nausea, the excess magic saturated the space around him, he hadn't eaten in days, and topping that all off, the gravitational forces were nearly nil, making his body unburdened and even more sickly. For all he knew, he was just walking on some crust that already left the surface, leaving him flung into space. The only reason he hadn't frozen to death by now was because the sheer amount of magic energy floating about was capable of generating its own heat, leaving him unpleasantly lukewarm all around.

This was the story of his life, doing nothing but exist for days, walking and crawling forward, and every so often, fall on his face.

"Oh god! Are you alright!?"

He rolled onto his back, glaring behind him.

"Don't worry about me. I'm just fucking peachy. Hell, I'll go into rigor mortis with a fucking smile on my face, because that's just how good I fucking feel, thank you fucking very much!"

The girl, perhaps 15 years old, stuttered to a stop, visibly shivering under his sheer ire. Like so many others, she probably escaped in a rush when shit hit the fan. Even now, her clothes were a mismatch of bare feet, and a heavy cloak over a thin pink camisole and sweat pants she had probably been sleeping in. She had short brown hair and green eyes, that might have been more vibrant in earlier days, but now seemed more sallow and weary. Though she was probably healthier than he was, her lithe frame had now gotten even disturbingly skinnier.

In his mind, this made it incredibly easy to call her Noodle Girl.

Her eyes started getting a bit soggy, either stress getting to her, or she was so good natured she was inherently unused to an extremely bad temper.

"I-I'm sorry... but you fell over... I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck this shit. I am going to lie here until I feel better."

He probably wouldn't, but he needed a break. His head plopped back into the earth, and spent several seconds breathing his oxygen from a tube, and staring at the stars. He idly pondered whether the magic was helping block out UV rays as well, because if it wasn't... well, fun times ahead.

"So, is our friend here finally deciding to lie down and die?" Another haughty voice cut in. He audibly groaned before looking up again.

"That is one pleasure I will never, EVER give you."

And this, considering they only knew each other for a few days, already. Unlike the brunette, the other girl was a half-pint that looked like she was certainly ten, but had a mean streak of a crotchety 80 year old matriarch. Also, while the he and the 15 year old were worn out, she seemed to relish the fact she was just as energetic and vibrant as ever, her flowing gold hair and almost luminescent blue eyes never losing their edge. She wore some black, modified school girl's outfit, which was all he could describe it as. With the ensemble stockings with visible garter clips running up and disappearing under her skirt, her exposed shoulders, functioning shoes and black lacquer nails.

Either way, with her sheer presence of vitality and authority, she forced him and the other girl to end up following her as the de facto leader.

So it was with these other two, that he was at least sure the remaining population of his home was "3". As it were, up to now, none of the three of them bothered asking for introductions. They didn't have the energy. They probably all had nicknames for the others in their minds, and out loud, it was just "Hey, you", or "girl", or "boy".

"You know, boy, you could solve so many of your problems if you simply just turned to one of us for help." The Half-Pint asserted for the billionth time.

"Stop calling me "boy", you half-assed piece of jail bait. I don't care what our ages are, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm the biggest of us all-"

"But obviously the least mature."

"Fuck you."

It was true, though. Whereas he had to deal with an airless environment and enough magic charge in the air to turn even this normally environment friendly energy corrosive, just on the strength of his own will, his two "pals" seemed to find ways to circumvent the issue.

Noodle Girl, since they first met, had her arms constantly wrapped around her red and pink grimoire, probably her only real last possession left, next to the star-shaped pendant she wore around her neck. Apparently she was a ridiculously powerful mage, enough that without any visible spell, her own magic she emitted already was neutralizing the corrosive version a few feet around her. Beyond that, she apparently was somehow creating her own oxygen out of nothing.

Half Pint, on the other hand, wasn't using any magic, and in fact, wasn't very concerned with the concept of death. He wasn't sure exactly what the hell she was, but apparently breathing wasn't a necessity to her. If she didn't need to breath, then sickness from magic over exposure probably wasn't a problem, either.

"Please! If you just stand next to me, I'm sure I can protect us both! You don't need to try and suffer through this alone!" The Noodle Girl pleaded again, "I don't want to watch another person die...!"

He bared his teeth at that idea, before rolling over onto his stomach, trying to lurch onto his feet, while taking more breaths from his scrapped canister of air.

"Die? I am not going to die... and I am not going to rely on someone else. I've made it this far, on my own power. I'm going to keep existing, keep being here, as myself. Even if all the stars fall from the sky, I'm going to keep thinking to myself, "I am here"! I will never... ever die from something stupid like this! I'm going to keep living...!"

I have to keep living. I need to know that she's still alive, or at least was safe and sound when the ships left. Until then...!

The toes of his boots dug into the soil and with a growl, he staggered to his feet, and continued to walk forward with sagging shoulders.

The Half Pint just sighed from behind, "Honestly... that ridiculous male pride of his..."

The Noodle Girl mumbled something under her breath and followed, the party of three continuing on.

When they crossed over a gentle hill, they were met by a curious sight. At least to him and the Half Pint. The Noodle Girl gasped in shock, and trembled.

At the bottom of the hill, where the three of them stood now, a pile of solid wreckage stood. It was a mess of cracked concrete, pieces of automobile, and girder and rebar jutting out from everywhere.

Impaled at the very top of this mess, via several of the steel strands, was a charred corpse. Other than the fact it was human, it was hard to discern anything due to the excessive burns.

He took a breath, and one of his eyebrows raised, "The fuck...?"

"Hmm, curious." Was all the Half Pint added.

The Noodle Girl looked away.

"How the hell is there still a body here? I mean, most bodies should have just been vaporized... it doesn't match up..."

The Half Pint took one look at the body suspended before them, and quickly came up with an answer.

"She's immortal."

"...Excuse me?"

"What!?" The Noodle Girl turned back, her eyes a combination of surprise and hope.

"She has an extremely resilient body, which is why she isn't vaporized, but because of those metal poles, while she's healing, her body can't wake her up from death."

"Wait, how can you tell that's a woman?" He asked, skeptical.

"What, you can recognize the difference of the female shape from the male?"

"Uh, not when it looks like dog food run through a furnace."

"We need to get her off those things, then!" The Noodle Girl vehemently demanded.

"I am not dragging around... literal dead weight!" He shot back, waving an arm at the impaled body.

"But we can't leave her like this! If she's still alive-"

"I am not sharing more of my air with another person."

The Half Pint glowered, "I'm interested in another immortal, boy. We're pulling her off. Or, we can leave her here, but I'm going to pester you so much about it, that you're going to walk back here and finish this. I'm sure you'll prefer more company beyond the two of us."

"My air, though. This is already my last tank."

The Noodle Girl piped in, "Well... I could refill it... that way, you don't have to depend on me so much...?"

He snorted. Perhaps there was no helping it, in the end, now that he was stuck with these two clowns. Well, at least this compromise wouldn't immediately lead to anything disastrous, so long as that char-broiled lady didn't turn out to be some psycho.

"Fine. If it got both your panties in such a twist, we'll get her off that shish-kebab."

"Well, get to it, then."

"...What, you're not going to help?" He glared.

"Well, you're the biggest of the three of us, right? You big man shouldn't need any help, otherwise, it'd be a slight to your pride, right?" The Half Pint sneered.

He gaped for a second, before closing his jaws in a foul frown, "...Little blood sucking bitch..."

Her grin only grew wider at that, as if it were some inside joke. Ignoring it, he shuffled over to the mound of debris angrily. Behind him, he could hear the other two having some girl talk about him. Noodle Girl probably being concerned about his well being or something, while the Half Pint just went on about how to "rein boys in".

He busied himself with jumping up the pile, dragging his oxygen with him, and somehow managing to get up to the body. If anything, the climb up was deceptively easy, due to the low gravity again. For once, something went nicely.

Of course, getting the corpse off her stakes was a bit of a task, a combination of the length of the rods, and the weight of the girl itself. Pushing her up and off must have taken a while, but he couldn't exactly tell. Even with a pocket watch he managed to scavenge off in the past, it still only had its hour hand.

Regardless, by the end, Colt held the body above his hands, and settled for tossing it down the pile. In this environment, the body failed to roll down the pile in a series of bone-crunching impacts, but simply sailed downwards gently until it touched the earth.

The three gathered about the body, him jumping down after.

"Well, I hope you're happy." He snorted.

"Certainly. She's already closing the wounds."

"She... she is going to get better, right?"

"...Hell, even I hope so."

The three stared at the body at their feet for some minutes, watching the puncture marks on the blackened flesh close up, and then the silent waiting after, hoping all was not lost.

Eyes the color of gold snapped open.


425 Years Ago:

He and the other five of them rode through the valley, flanked on all sides by the columns of their marching soldiers, in their armor and devices. He wasn't against walking with them, either, but the men insisted that the six of them ride atop some of the elephantine, biologically engineered war beasts, each of theirs strapped down with a decorated platform, one of which he was now enthroned in.

Lording over people so gaudily wasn't quite his style, but he suppose, for the good of all his men, and to maintain morale, he would simply have to sit here in this plush seat, with a small bowl of meats, fruit, and drinks by his side, and ride it out.

He leaned back further into his chair, running a hand over his hetero-chromatic red and green eyes, and through his silvered hair. Looking straight ahead, from his vantage point, he could see more valleys in the distance, and the twilight sky. But dead in front of him, perhaps miles away, the twilight twisted away into a revolution of clouds and blood red sky, the glowing and burning of destruction and combat.

There was a time when it signified another battle, another war, to him. Just another day's job for him and his Soul Eater to hack away at, and earn his keep. But this was different. Here he was, chosen to lead his men not into war, but into a battle of survival. Not against an army of a multitude, but against one, single enemy.

The memories of it filled him with dread, and the sight of the burning sky, and no doubt the presence of it there, filled him with dread again.

But he had to do this. Him and the five others. If he couldn't do it, he wasn't sure who else would have the nerve to. This was the single largest combined army of all the clans on Belka. It was all or nothing, so very soon.

Before he could ponder any more, a knight flew in, propelled by a Pferde spell along his feet. He dropped into the platform, and in one smooth movement, went from balancing in the air to kneeling on one knee before him.

"Sir Ragna! I've come to report from the artillery teams!"

His eyes widened slightly, and craned his body forward from his original lax pose, his interest clear. This was the first phase of attack. Hopefully, this would be the only one necessary.

"Well..." He glanced over the man's armor and recognized the standardized rank color, "...Private, report then! Did it work out?"

"Sir! We threw everything at it that we could! We even used... no, we especially used as many N2 Mines as we could on the Black Beast! It still only took minimal damage, despite it."

"Damn, I suppose it was too much to ask for..." Ragna snorted.

The messenger continued, "But sir, it also seems the Black Beast has stopped moving. It might be in the middle of trying to regenerate it's damage."

Ragna stood from his seat, and walked towards the front perimeter of the platform, thinking hard as he watched the red sky in the distance.

It was both good and bad news. It was damaged enough that it wouldn't do anything for a little bit of time, but at the same time, regeneration could mean it could end up adapting to the attack. But he had to take what breaks he could.

"Alright, you guys did your best. Private, get back to artillery, tell them to retreat back behind the cover of the hills while it's still regenerating. I don't want them getting return fire from the Black Beast."

"Sir!"

The knight saluted and jumped back into the sky, flying as fast as possible.

A new voice caught Ragna's attention, "N2 Mine?"

The celebrated warrior turned back to look back at his seat, or more precisely, the person who was sitting on the floor beside it. She wore a ridiculously plain dress, and was currently barefoot as well, apparently enjoying the sensation of rug between her toes. The color of her features were unusual, even by Ragna's consideration. Long green hair framed a face marked by sly gold eyes, though they hid themselves well under an expression of seeming lethargic apathy.

Despite being her constant presence in this campaign against the Black Beast that had lasted nearly a year, the woman had still managed to remain an enigma that appeared when she wished, but never could be tracked down when she left. Even her name remained anonymous. For all her colorful features, Ragna still only knew her by the moniker she had assigned to herself: the "Gray Witch".

"It's the biggest explosive we can haul out without going nuclear." Ragna summarized.

The Gray Witch ruminated it in her mind, visualizing the kind of power such a bomb could have, and then simply nodded, "Ah... Sachiel's Absolute Terror technology certainly is formidable."

Ragna blanched, "Is that really all you have to say?"

She shrugged, "Why should I worry? We're certain that even if this battle will be climatic, you will be the victor."

There she went with that "we" again. All Ragna could really discern of her was that she was certainly much older than she looked, and that she was just one of a larger party that seemed to have an invested interest in his existence, for reasons he couldn't comprehend.

Sure, he was pretty strong, but...

"You guys, whoever you are, certainly have too much faith."

"And we know you have too little in your own skills. But the difference between faith and assurance is how much one knows about the situation, and my organization knows... much." The Gray Witch coolly retorted, standing up to approach Ragna.

"Yeah, and how does you knowing much change the fact that I'm just a Belkan knight, about to take on a living weapon from Al Hazred?"

"If we weren't so sure, we wouldn't have approached you with our contract in the first place."

"That contract as always. Even if I do destroy the Black Beast, what makes you think I'll listen to you?"

"Because we share the same interests. We're all looking for a way to bring peace to this universe. Are you really going to pass up this chance to bring order to the worlds, just to maintain your own pride?"

Ragna didn't answer, and kept staring forward out into the redness of his destiny. The Gray Witch walked away, calling behind her.

"Remember the contract, Ragna the Bloodedge. Prove to us that you posses the power of kings, and we will give you a kingdom that spans the stars."


4 Years Ago:

She was afraid.

She didn't know what really happened, but one minute, she was skipping through the congested Midchilda airport, on a mission to find her missing older sister, and the next thing she knew, there was a loud sound, and fire suddenly spread everywhere, and everyone was running-

She was alone. The immense heat of the fires everywhere pounded against her small body, mixing her clothes with her sweat, grime, and tears. Each breath dragged down hot air that dried her throat, and her vision blurred with the stinging smoke. Even if she could see properly, everything in the place seemed to look the same. Burning pillars, burning floor, burning everything.

"Ginga...! Ginga, please... save me..." Was all she could whimper through the blaze.

But her sister was nowhere to be found. There wasn't anyone, anywhere, and she was utterly alone.

Another explosion burst through the floor of the atrium she was in. The blast knocked her clear through the air, and sent tumbling onto her stomach in front of a massive angelic statue that was set on a pedestal. Once an unmovable image of peace that overlooked the room, it was now a ghastly, shadowed thing, its cracked face and body covered in ominous and grotesque shadows, the whole thing mutated into some crumbling monster that hovered over the crying child.

She was sick of wandering, and sick of being alone. She was sick of being here, hot and exhausted.

"Someone... help me... I don't want to be here anymore..."

She wasn't sure who she was talking to by this point, but all she could really do was bawl, hoping something, anything would get her out of here.

Unfortunately, that stone beast that had degraded from an angel was the only thing to listen, and also oblige.

The heat continued to dig their way into the multitude of cracks, and soon enough the whole statue simply opted to collapse forward. For the girl, she only heard a loud crack, and looked up to find the giant angel beginning to fall towards her, intent on slamming its several hundred pounds upon her little frame.

She couldn't find time to scream, and all she could do was gasp and shut her eyes, her mind blanking out, trying to avoid thinking of the coming pain.

But it never came.

After countless seconds, more than it should have taken, she cracked open one eye warily. The statue continued to look down on her, but no longer seemed to threaten falling anymore. Rather, several pink bands of energy had wrapped themselves around the majority of the structure, leaving it trapped in place.

The child's eyes widened in realization at the cause behind this miracle.
Magic.

"Thank god I made it in time...!"

She noticed the figure behind the nearly-fallen statue, who had her hand outstretched, obviously the one who cast the spell that saved her life.

For the child, at this very point, she thought she never saw a person more beautiful. A woman, separate from the scathing flames with her unblemished white robes. Radiant and glowing wings sprouted from her heels, holding her aloft in the heated air. In her left hand, the woman grasped a great staff, tipped with an elaborate gold head piece wrapped about a crimson jewel.

Somewhere in the back of her head, the girl decided, "Now here, here is what a real angel looks like."

And this woman swept down to meet her, kneeling slightly to encouragingly hold her by the shoulder.

"You've done your best till now, right? That's very brave of you. But don't worry, I'm here to get you out of here, so you can rely on me, too, now. Alright?"

She just numbly nodded, a bit overwhelmed with her sudden savior. The woman cast a spell, enclosing the girl within a pink dome for her protection, while turning around, staring at the shadowed and orange-liked ceiling.

She raised her stave, the headpiece pointed at the ceiling.

"UPWARD CLEARANCE: CONFIRMATION." The staffed spoke.

Under her white clad feet, lines of magic and power formed into circular shape.

"FIRING LOCKS CANCELLED. MANUAL DIRECTION IS SET."

"Let's get back into the sky in one shot!"

"ALRIGHT. LOAD CARTRIDGE."

From the headpiece, two cylinders jumped out. From this, the staff sprouted free feathery glowing appendages, the same shape and make of the wings on the woman's body, as if it was an extension of its wielder.

"Divine... BUSTER!"

The girl's eyes widened as the ceiling burst in a neat circle, under the duress of the massive beam the woman fired off. Though smoke immediately swam upward through the new chimney, she could still clearly see the endless cool night sky and the comforting stars that dotted it.

What followed after was a sort of blur, as she was picked up the woman in white, the stark sense of peaceful eternity as she floated above the now silent city at night.

Even as she was dropped into the waiting gurney of an ambulance, she watched the woman take off, tirelessly returning to the hellhole she just left to see how much more she could help.

In the end, the girl had very few thoughts except for these:

'Why was she so pitiful she needed to be saved by a person so incredible?'

'She was going to follow that person for as long as her life could permit.'

Of course, it would take a little while before she actually discovered who the woman in white's name was.



1 Year Ago:

It was an understanding that the Doctor's labs were a combination of clean efficiency that trusted no creature except those he purposely enhanced, and incredibly wide open spaces. It was thus no surprise to her that silence often reigned in such places.

But this was downright eerie.

The silence here was overwhelming and foreboding, like a prelude to a beast that was hiding above and behind you, ready to snap you up. She supposed it wasn't far from the truth. She could feel multiple presences inside the large yellow-lighted labs, but none of them had approached her immediately.

She fixed her hold on the black case she held under one arm, and continued onward, careful, curious as to what had happened while she was gone.

Walking on in the hallways flanked by vats of unconscious women in their raised shelves, she reached what was normally considered the control center for the labs, where free floating holographic keypads and screens emanated.

And then came voices, one a stringy male tone, the other a lilting young female, both unrecognizable.

"The good doctor certainly is a man aware of his... limitations. I find that quite admirable in a man, actually. To know when, and when not he can rely on his vitality to please... or when to rely on toys or even... others-" The male voice leered.

"Please, the point." The female coolly demanded.

"According to the files, the doctor relied on outside parties to smuggle Relics for him, on an entirely random basis. Even he only knew the generalities. Afterwards, he sends his own toys after his smuggling routes, and steals the Relics from them on his own. This way, nobody knows where this location is."

"What does this mean for us?"

"It means the doctor's practically has done all the work for us. We just need to take over the schedule. He even has the shipping receipts and manifests on file."

"Will it really be so easy?"

"If you're so concerned, you can send one of us in a confirmed situation."

She heard a silence, presumably of the female ruminating on such a choice. The male continued, seemingly in awe.

"It's quite amazing... the system he has set up. Machines, diagnostics, the things he created, subroutines controlling entire life-styles... all the extra parties dancing to his little tune... he even has people personally stealing and transporting the Relics to him...!"

"So this is who this brat is." Another rough feminine voice groused from behind her, who was eavesdropping the entire time. The sudden surprise flank from behind shocked her into turning around, where she was met with a foot that slammed into her chest, making her cry out in pain and bounce into the center of the chamber, the case clattering away from her.

Through the strands of her purple hair, she realized she was circled on all sides by figures dressed only in white, which was accentuated with black, here and there. All of their faces were distorted, hidden, with masks and coverings of all kinds.

Devices of all kinds came pointed at her, and she realized, they were mages of some sort, a far cry from the doctor's disbelief in magic.

A small female, characterized by her long blond hair and red eyes that were revealed by a mask that covered everything from under the eyes downward, turned to a lankier man that towered over her with his butterfly shaped mask that had attached itself to his nose and spread out across his face elaborately.

"Zaera, I thought you said the security systems here were functioning."

"Of course they are. I wouldn't leave a beautiful girl like you just satisfied with a half-cocked job!"

"Then what's this?"

"Oh, I let her through. She wasn't moving like a hostile."

Another woman spoke up, "Ojou-sama, please remember that there are many things between Heaven and Hell."

"Of course."

The girl in white turned down to her, with narrowed eyes, "What are you doing here?"

"Where is the doctor...?" She quietly replied, quietly cautious.

"Oiyo, Bosso. Check, this, out! She's got herself one of our pieces!" Another one of the masked ones, crouched down, inspecting and apparently recognizing the case she held.

The girl in white nodded, in understanding, before looking down at her, "Your doctor is away on extended... business. What deal did he cut with you?"

She didn't answer immediately, untrusting. Who were these people that suddenly appeared? Did the doctor hire them...? She cared not for deals. Whatever they had, or thought they could offer more of, was all a shame she did not require. She only needed Relics to restore her-

"Did he promise to give you someone back you... cared about?"

She choked, her secret being mostly revealed. She knew if they accessed the doctor's databases, then they might have found out easily enough.

"So...?"

The girl in white's eyes lowered somewhat, as if having a great understanding, "Don't go just 'so'. We're not power mongers. All of us here, are bound by loss of something. Love, equality, humanity, dignity. We all have something stolen from us. We know what it's like to be utterly... deprived of happiness, and the desperation to have it returned to us by any means. Something precious isn't just 'so'."

She shivered, dumbfounded by those words coming from a person not much larger than herself.

"W-Who are you people?"

"We're few now, but we're still the Order of the Useless Sword. And you?"

"Lutecia..."

"Lutecia, I don't know what kind of agreement you had with the doctor, but would you like to have one with us? We should support each other, so that we can all what we're looking for."

"You're looking for Relics, too? Why?" Lutecia couldn't help but ask.

The girl in white's eyes hardened.

"I'm going to kill the gods that took our precious things."



2 Weeks Ago:

The sun shone bright on Midchilda's abandoned Coastal Airport Highway 8. Ever since the immense airport fire that consumed a this portion of the city, albeit with very few casualties, 4 years ago, the entire area remained in disuse, too many buildings to try and check for their structural soundness. A simpler solution was to simply build in a new direction. For the TSAB's ever constant pragmatism, they simply converted the abandoned areas into combat testing and exam grounds for mage hopefuls of their armed ranks.

Of the masses, a particular two arrived on the roof of a particular semi-shattered building, preparing for their exam to push them into their B-Rank in mage capability.

She stood, conserving her energy, patiently preparing herself for the coming trial, both in her mind and her equipment.

She opened the over-under twin barrels on her gun-styled Storage Device, pushing Catridges into each chamber before flipping them shut with a decisive click. As she repeated the same gesture for her second gun, she looked at the girl beside her, and sighed.

Her partner for the past three years, even this early in the morning, was a bubbly mess that was forcing all her excess energy out in series of rapid punches and kicks, quickly shifting her weight from one wheel-fixed foot to another, trading blows with one bare arm and the other holding her specialized gauntlet.

It was somewhat amusing, to see, but it wasn't like she would ever admit it.

So she chided instead, "Subaru. Stop moving around, or those cheap practice skates of yours are going to fall apart the moment we start the exam."

Her partner turned around, her short blue hair flapping from under her white headband. Subaru Nakajima gave a pout, staring at her with those big glistening green eyes.

"Don't say that, Te-a! I already oiled them before we came here..."

"Tea" just shrugged, before turning her wrist slightly so that the back faced her. There, a series of readouts emerged, showing local time and a countdown to their official exam. There was still some time left.

Tea turned back to her partner, "Hey, did you hear anything about this exam?"

Subaru turned from her basic exercises with a look of confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I guess not... Yesterday, I heard some rumor about our examiner being out of the ordinary for some reason."

"R-really?" Subaru blanched, "Please let it not be some horribly mean guy..."

"How should I know? It could be your precious idol, for all I know."

Subaru brightened up at that image, even if it was just a silly dream, "Heh, getting to see Takamachi so early in my life..."

"You make it sounds like some kind of impossible dream. She's still only a training officer and captain, even if she is some kind of amazing hero."

"Well, she still takes on the best of the best, and all that. Neither of us are even B-Rank..."

"Oi, don't lump me with your misfortunes."

Subaru rubbed her head, "Eheh, sorry."

With that, Tea sighed, before continuing to ponder, "Still, I wonder what the occasion is, if there's really going to be a special proctor...?"

At that, a new screen opened up in midair, revealing a young woman with brown hair, who leaned in, trying to see from her end.

"Hello, are the two mages here for the B-rank exam present?"

"Here, ma'am!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

She seemed pleased by the unison answers, and continued speaking.

"Just to confirm, from the TSAB's 386th Battalion, Private Second Class, Subaru Nakajima present?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"And Private Second Class, Teana Lanster, same Battalion?"

"Yes, ma'aam!"

"Both of you are currently considered C-Rank, but your taking the qualifying exam for B-rank, correct?"

"That's right ma'am!"

"Right then, I'll be one of the examiners and observers for today's exam. My name is Yagami Hayate, Lieutenant Colonel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am!"

Teana managed to avoid gulping too loudly at the rank. Lieutenant Colonel!? What was someone that high up doing here? At most, these kinds of things were up to the sergeants... what was she here for? Why was she observing?

"Of course, I know my being here may be a bit intimidating, but please, remember I'm not the only one proctoring. Do your best, and don't worry it."

Afterwards, another examiner explained the nature of the course Subaru and she were supposed to run through. With both their consent to begin the course, the two C-rank mages tensed up, watching series of lights countdown to the beginning of the exam.

Teana's eyes tightened, few thoughts passing her mind as she watched the lights blink off.

3...

Tiida... don't worry anymore...

2...

I'm getting closer everyday, to proving our worth. So don't worry...

1...

I'm going to prove to everyone that they can rely on us... our guns...

0.

"GO!"



1 Night Ago:

"God damnit!" Was a word that repeatedly left his mouth as he heaved his body forward down the darkened hallways of Hotel Augusta. His large frame was great for speeches and meeting people in offices, a statuesque frame ready to bear down and intimidate or coax people as he saw fit, but here, being hunted, it was just extra weight, and extra time for his attacker to catch up to him.

He had been set up. Some person had the guts to try and attack him, one of the greatest generals of the TSAB.

Someone talked. Someone knew his connections, was able to convince him to have a private meeting at night all the way out here, at this out of the way, usually empty hotel and convention center. Even then, he didn't come stupidly. He came with enough bodyguards to ward off any attack, regular or magical, even for a "secret meeting" like this.

But instead, a single man had cut them all down. All of them down.

And the assassin looked at him straight in the eye, and sneered.

"How would you prefer this hunt? In the woods, or in the steel jungle of this wonderful building?"

So he let him run. Let him run. The bastard. After he got out of this mess, he was going to find out who wanted him dead, and make them pay. But he needed to find some terminal to call for help. Get people over here ASAP.

Panting and sweating, he dashed down the glass covered hallways and walkways that glistened in the moonlight. Down one corridor, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a room titled "Lounge".

A Lounge. Where people sit and chat. A lounge which must have an area for dedicated calling.

Twisting his body awkwardly, he grabbed the edges of the door, pulling himself towards the practical wood door, and twisted the handle open. Throwing himself inside, he found himself in a darkened room, highlighted by near invisible couches.

He quickly scanned the room, before finding several chairs lined up against the wall, which was dimly lit with lights in a manner that indicated sleeping monitors.

With a sigh of relief, he made his way forward, until something suddenly slammed into the back of his head. With a cry of pain, he collapsed to the floor, while lights snapped on, assaulting his eyes, while he lay on his stomach, trying to get the pain in his head to subside a little.

The assassin's voice chided, arrogantly and sarcastically, "I suppose it can't help that you're a bit predictable. When was the last time you were even in a combat situation? Or did you just live from one officer rank to another, one office to another? Tsk, tsk, has politicking made your brains soft?"

Groaning, Regius twisted onto his back, frowning as best as he could at the man who stood above him, dressed in a black coat and hat, taking a breath from an aerosol painkiller.

"Who are you... who do you work for!? Who sent you after me? Don't you know who I am!?" He demanded angrily.

The man in black waved nonchalantly, "Sure, sure. You're General Regius Gaiz. The TSAB's very own hawk made of iron. You think you're so fucking elite just because your fattening up your own ground forces."

Regius spluttered, "Is this what this is about!? I get it! You must be from the Navy! Or Saint Church! I knew it. One they, they'd send one of their men to get me! Well this just proves me right! The fact you people are so reliant on your special abilities-"

"Shut that shit spewer you think is a mouth, you fat piece of shit."

"Y-You...!"

"First off, I'm not from the Navy, and the Saint Church? Heh, yeah, that's a good one. I represent the ones who are in charge of the TSAB."

"The High Council? Impossible!"

"You wish. You think I'd bother taking orders from some brains in a jar? In fact, I'll be killing them soon, too. No, we're really the ones who tell the TSAB what to do. As for you and your brain friends? You're scum."

"How dare you say that... after all I've done for the Bureau! I've protected it! Fought for it-!"

"And now you're thinking you know what's best for it." The man interrupted harshly, cutting a glare into Regius, "It's one thing to simply struggle within the power structure, try to work it out for your own. But when you... and your jars, start turning to terrorists, like Scaglietti, to fuel your private army, out of some misguided desire to... I don't even know, do whatever retarded thing you were planning, and start doing your little secret shadow conspiracy shit? Ah, ha. No."

The man took another breath from his inhaler.

"Someone like you, you don't have the right to start pulling strings from the shadows. You've done nothing for the Bureau, not compared to what the Three Admirals."

"Them!?" Regius' ire crawled up his throat as he hoarsely shouted back, "Those three are just old wrinkled, figureheads! A living war story of the past! Their glory days are over!"

He grinned, "Their glory days are over, indeed, but their connections have never waned in our minds. You see, Regius. All three of them have something you lack completely. That's why we smile upon their ancient history, and why I'm about to make a greeting card out of your stupid ass."

"And what is that!?"

He tilted his head, shrugging, as if only an in joke would be sufficient explanation.

"Well, they were Lyrical. You're not."

Regius didn't get a chance to ask "What?", because in the next moment, a purple blade, paper thin, sank itself into the middle of his chest.

"To Takamachi, with love."


In the very beginning, when our own home was still divided into kingdoms and tribes, and there was no strong ruler to unite the worlds, the Black Beast fell from the stars.

It knew not of love, nor hate, nor of any feeling of any kind. It was only driven by it's desire to blight everything it could touch, and burn everything it could see.

And though we loosed our arrows and steel upon it, the Black Beast's great form could not be harmed.

Seeing the threat of this monstrosity, our forefathers, the Six Heroes, eventually found each other, and bound themselves and the various kingdoms into a single army, unified in their desire to defeat the Black Beast and bring peace back to the land.

After a long and bloody conflict, which might have taken days, months, or even years, the Black Beast was felled.

The most revered of the Six Heroes, was made king, and led an empire that spanned planets. He was wise and just, for he knew all things. One of his eyes was a sea of blood, that knew of destruction, and the other was a field of grass, that knew of living.

And so our king led us to an era of prosperity.

But as we rejoiced, we did not know the Black Beast, in its death, had cursed our king with its very soul.

And so as we raised up our king, did we also raise up the Saint of Killers, the first of his benevolent and wicked lineage that destroyed all that was built and cherished, and scattered our men back into the stars.

So our Saint giveth, so he taketh away.


Person With Many Aliases Presents:

"Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha: S-Saint"

A Magical, Lyrical Sequel

"Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha" series property of studio Seven Arcs

Original Characters and concepts property of author Person With Many Aliases

Original Characters property of author Gaiacleaver



New friends and allies gather together, and begin their instruction and mission. At night, ominous shapes take on a new color...

Movement the Second: Kyrie eleison

Charge your weapons, friends, show what you can do.

So done on Earth, as it is in Heaven...


A/N: S-Saint OP is "After Dark" by Asian Kung Fu Generation.