That which has been is that which will be,
And that which has been done is that which will be done.
So there is nothing new under the sun.
– The words of King Solomon the Wise, Ecclesiastes 1:9 (NASB)


A/N: Does nobody wonder exactly who sent Okabe that interesting video clip which allowed him to reach the perfect worldline?

Disclaimer: I own no part of Steins;Gate.

Warning: Contains death, violence, and (worst of all) science. Be thou forewarned.


Worldline: 1.130209 β,
Date: February 1st, 2030
Location: SERN Global Headquarters, France

The ornate study was largely empty, with only one man present to observe its lush opulence. He sat before his gleaming mahogany desk, monitoring everything that went on within the base using the numerous computer screens arrayed before him. As he watched the video feeds, he shuffled through some papers that lay scattered on his desk, researching everything he could on this new enemy that had arisen so silently.

How had it come to this?

In the beginning, the continents of Africa and South America had been the first to fall completely under control; with only small pockets of resistance from tribal groups that had clung tenuously to their archaic traditions for the last twenty years. Such small uprisings were only to be expected, and were being crushed quite efficiently by SERN's peacekeeping force. After all, no dissidence could be tolerated if a perfect world order was to be achieved.

Unfortunately, North America and Far Eastern Asia had proven themselves far more tenacious, refusing to submit even when faced with the undefeatable trump card of travel through time itself. Eventually, the old and decadent governments had been overthrown through the tireless effort of SERN's operatives, and the formerly organized soldiers had gone underground to become the fledgling Resistance. And now it seemed as though a new insurgency was about to begin in Europe itself.

The man shifted in his seat as he leafed through the files.

As chairman of SERN's European Theater, it was his duty to ensure the supreme dominance of SERN through both time and space. This, of course, meant the immediate submission of any who would dare express views contrary to those of SERN's. Oh, scientific progress marched along proudly – under the banner of SERN, of course: unauthorized experimentation without a license was strictly forbidden and was punishable by death. There were murmurings among the lower elements of the society though; rumors of a terrorist cell in Japan that performed advanced physical experiments. The existence of such a scientist, known only by the whispered name 'Daru Titor', had never been confirmed.

The chairman's responsibility, of course, did not extend to such groundless fantasies. No, his prime directive was to ensure both the survival of the institution no matter what and the continued maintenance of world control. With such weighty duties, he had never been bothered with such trivial affairs - a mistake, in retrospect. Still, he had been busy perfecting the world at the time.

Unfortunately for the world, it appeared that some disruptive elements continued to try to ruin the flawless order that had been created after such diligent labor. Such blind fools could never comprehend the true scope of SERN's magnanimity, and were insistent upon being put into their place through the use of force. One in particular was growing extremely prominent as of late.

The terrorist group fancifully called 'Valkyrie' had been known to exist in the underbelly of the Japanese sector for quite some time now, but their exploits had been limited to petty sabotage, with the odd assassination thrown in. Mild annoyances, to be sure, but never a serious threat to the almighty power of SERN. It had never been deemed necessary to root them out thoroughly, as they seemed to be limited to East Asia alone.

However, it seemed that they were growing increasingly bold: claiming responsibility for the recent strikes on the Japanese and North American bases that had decimated the ranks of the Organization. The idea was preposterous on the face of it – the attacks had been conducted using a bomb of a caliber so high that it would have taken an insanely skilled engineer to construct it. The very idea of a revolutionary force possessing such an engineer was ridiculous to the extreme, but whispers of 'Daru Titor' continued to float about the rebellious underworld.

Despite their grandiose pretentiousness, SERN was prepared to ferret Valkyrie out and exterminate them: after all, they were the oldest known rebel faction, having made their presence known almost immediately after SERN's assertion of world dominance twenty years ago. They'd continued to survive in the murky shadows of Japan, mere nuisances, never daring to attempt anything potentially threatening other than claiming the patronage of 'Daru Titor'.

However, they had bitten off more than they could chew this time; being arrogant enough to send a public declaration of war to the French center itself – the largest bastion of SERN's power, having never been breached by opposing forces. These arrogant cockroaches had been permitted to exist for far too long, and it was time to put them back in their place.

The chairman had taken immediate steps to secure the French base: all non-essential personnel had been evacuated summarily, and great pains had been taken to guarantee the complete impregnability of the base. He would have preferred to have his ultimate ace in the hole prepared, but it seemed as though time would not be their ally going into this fight.

The warning message itself had been fairly simple: written by a deranged man going by the moniker 'Hououin Kyouma', it swore to take SERN down by any means possible. This man claimed to be the leader of Valkyrie, and said that he was personally going to destroy SERN with his own two hands. Normally, such a message would be disregarded entirely, but reports indicated that the ruined Japanese and American bases had received similar messages before being demolished entirely, so the matter was being treated with all due caution.

The motives for this sudden move by the Resistance were unclear: why had this underground group stepped out of their usual routine of guerilla warfare with little to no warning? After just over a decade of remaining barely alive in the shadows, why were they suddenly moving from brief interactions to full-out extermination? Were they so tired of living that felt the need to seek out a bold way to die?

The message itself claimed that this sudden retaliation was purportedly to avenge the deaths of two people, the names of whom were attached to the bottom of the brief message. Of course, gambling over twenty years of covert work as retaliation for the death of two people was absurd on the face of it, but the identity of the persons themselves gave pause for thought.

There, at the bottom of the list, beneath the usual threats and pointless insults, were two names.

Makise Kurisu and Hashida Itaru. Deceased.


The first person on the list was by far the more famous one, known by every scientist on the planet who was worth their salt. After all, who could forget the original inventor of the time machine itself?

Makise Kurisu, renowned developer of the thesis that had made time travel a viable option, was known world-wide as a precocious genius. A fervent researcher, she was on the cutting edge of time travel technology, developing the latest tools for the manipulation of chronicular events. Having worked under SERN for over nineteen years, she had been seen as a valuable and loyal asset to the Organization.

One month ago, however, it was discovered that she had been in contact with the rebel forces and, judging by her behavior for the past few years, had been feeding them information for quite some time. She was caught sending classified schematics of her very own prototypes to a recipient who had been identified as one 'Daru Titor', the very name that had been associated with the Resistance for so long.

When her secret had been found out, she'd fought her way tooth-and-nail to the Large Hadron Collider, carving her way fanatically to the main mechanism. Upon entering the bowels of the facility, she'd sealed herself in with the Collider and sent a secure transmission to an unknown location, finishing the message and breaking the connection mere seconds before security broke in.

They had been given orders to fire at will.

Surviving security cameras had later revealed that, moments after the guards riddled her with bullets, she'd managed to detonate a black hole bomb hidden in her pocket, completely destroying everything within a fifteen-meter radius of her lead-filled body, including the guards and a large section of the LHC.

Makise Kurisu's final act had crippled SERN's time-travel ability. After all, with no LHC there were no mini-black holes, and hence no time traveling was possible. It was a calculated suicide, one worthy of such an intellect.

The higher-ups knew that Kurisu had been working on a time machine that would be able to operate independently of the Large Hadron Collider, and the chairman had hoped to salvage something from the wreck. However, when her room was opened it was found that she'd remotely detonated another bomb in her office, obliterating all her research and designs.

The vixen had even managed to wipe most of the files on the main data banks, leaving SERN essentially powerless at this point, reliant upon paper reports from the old days. The chairman hated to admit it, but the woman really had gone out with a bang.

Reconstruction on the LHC was being done as fast as possible in order to open a mini-black hole to circumvent this entire mess, but the very foundations of the facility had been torn to shreds by the blast. It had taken twenty full years to build the original structure, and engineering reports had calculated that it would take a good year to finish even a rudimentary construction. Until that year was up, SERN was vulnerable to any setbacks; no longer able to hide behind their invulnerable shield of time.

At the moment, they were weaker than they'd been at any point in the last twenty years. And, what was worse, their enemies probably knew it.


The second name that the mysterious leader of the Resistance had sworn to avenge, however, was a complete unknown. Although a more detailed write-up had probably been available in the databases, there were only a few files remaining which mentioned the name, none of which reached farther back than 2009. All the records, though, documented the same thing.

This 'Hashida Itaru' appeared to have achieved little in his life, dropping off the grid entirely following involvement with a "Future Gadget Laboratory" that had been broken up over twenty years ago. He was listed as deceased, and had had known affiliations with several unimportant individuals, although he did interact with Makise Kurisu herself for a short period of time. It was the Laboratory, however, that attracted the Chairman's attention.

Data on the Future Gadget Laboratory was limited following the data wipe performed by Kurisu. However, the few paper files that mentioned them reported that it was founded by one 'Okabe Rintarou' (thought to be deceased). The group was purportedly disbanded by Agent M4 under order of her manager, FB.

This was notable as the event that had brought Makise Kurisu into custody, along with Okabe Rintarou and Hashida Itaru. The latter two were ranked as 'unnecessary' and were thought to have been killed during the raid, although the report didn't state so explicitly.

One death during the raid that had been confirmed was that of a 'Shiina Mayuri'. While her death had been conclusively confirmed with photographic evidence attached, it turned out that the fates of the remaining duo were unclear.

It was assumed at the time that they both had been disposed of by M4, with their bodies being dumped somewhere quiet. Despite the duo's prior contact with M4 (real name 'Kiryu Moeka'), she had given no indication of remorse anytime through the operation and was thought to have finished the job, beyond the shadow of a doubt.

However, confirmation of this proved to be impossible, as it was found that Kiryu Moeka had terminated herself shortly after the incident. This was deemed unusual, as she had remained in contact with her handler throughout the ordeal and, as such, had no real reason to kill herself. Her suicide note was deemed unimportant, and nobody noticed the death of the traitorous woman.

When the chairman went digging through the archives in the back rooms himself, he found the original paper, ragged with the passing of time, at the bottom of a file cabinet cataloguing the career of a 'Yuugo Tennouji' – one of the agency's most esteemed operatives, who had managed to retire some years ago and was currently living with his wife and daughter in an undisclosed location.

Anyway, the note was written in a wavering Kanji on a simple piece of paper that had been yellowed by the passing of time. It was rayed with splotches that marred its wrinkled surface, and crinkled softly as he picked it up. The chairman's grasp of Japanese was poor, but as far as he could tell, the lettering read as follows:

誰かがこれを翻訳した実際に、私が感銘を受けた。
"Redemption is not so easily bought, it would seem."

Anyway, that was all the information that had been present in the physical archives, and there was no mention of any of the characters in this charade in the tattered remnants of the memory banks. Apparently, nobody had given the fate of the suicidal sleeper agent a second thought for the last two decades. Until now.

The chairman sat silent in his chair, musing upon the names he'd researched so feverishly. All the names: those of the dead and the living together. And a couple of people who be either alive or dead…


The communicator crackled as the lead security guard radioed in. "Sir, we have activity by the main gate. Looks to be hostile in intent. Please give directives."

"Report. What kind of activity?"

"We have a smokescreen popping by the main entrance. Visibility is nil, but it appears to be a regular obfuscation tactic, not neurotoxin-based in nature. Snipers are in position on the rooftop and my assault team is in the lobby, ready to pulverize anyone stupid enough to poke their head inside. Do we take any hostages?"

The chairman hesitated a moment. He was intrigued by the convolutions presented to him in the story outlined above. First off, Makise Kurisu had turned out to be a traitor to SERN all along – a surprising development indeed. Who would have thought that such a brilliant mind could make such a poor decision in siding with the rebels? What nugget of information could possibly have triggered such a dramatic reaction? He didn't know, but he'd certainly like to find out.

Secondly, the fact remained that "Hououin Kyouma" had listed Kurisu and Itaru (both former members of the Future Gadget Laboratory) as reasons for this misguided attempt at retribution. The coincidences were just too great to ignore, and the odds that Kurisu had been sending information to Valkyrie were extremely high. Containment was key in a situation like this, so eradicating the whole operation seemed like the best option.

He pushed down a button and responded, "Yes. Make sure to take at least one of them alive for…interrogation. Any information on these intransigents would be very useful to us."

The smirk was audible in the leader's voice. "Interrogation. Right. In that case, I'll order the boys to make sure one's still breathing."

Nodding his head, the chairman leaned back in his chair, paying especially close attention to the security monitor mounted on his desk. There seemed to be nothing but smoke wisps curling about outside the building, with nary a sign of life. Lasers played about through the clouds as the snipers aimlessly hunted for a target, while in the entrance, fingers trembled on creaking triggers. There was not as much as a cough from the assembled troops, everyone scanning the area for potential threats.

Not that the chairman was too worried about his personal safety. After all, the entire facility was designed like a dead-end maze - one way in, one way out. And unfortunately for any would-be attackers, the ' one way in' was closely guarded by a squadron of riflemen armed to the teeth.

Suddenly, a particularly strong breeze blew by, clearing the smoke away for a moment, dissipating the obfuscating tendrils. It rolled back, revealing a single man striding fearlessly towards the enemy, cape fluttering gently in the wind.

No…that was a lab coat.

The chairman's eyes bulged in disbelief as he took in the image on the computer screen. One man…is he insane? Trying to attack the European base of SERN by himself? Is this the great Hououin Kyouma that was going to destroy SERN with his own two hands? How preposterous.

The man simply kept walking, loosely wearing a ridiculous helmet with pointless wires coming out haphazardly. The helmet itself looked something like an upturned colander with electrodes attached to his temples and a television antenna extending upwards from behind the left ear, and seemed to be extremely flimsy. The lunatic had even donned a pair of stereo headphones, as though to accentuate his complete departure from the realm of sanity. His lab coat was immaculately white, and he wore beige pants and a light grey shirt underneath it.

Halting roughly fifty paces from the entrance to the main laboratory, the lone figure raised his hands to his chin, buckling his useless helmet on while watching the laser points dance their way about his chest. Finished securing the headpiece, he spread his arms wide and declared (a suitably maniacal grin adorning his twisted face):

"Behold! It is indeed I, Hououin Kyouma, the lone soldier standing against the forces of evil arrayed against the last noble defender of liberty! A paragon of original spirit, the oldest enemy of the Organization is here! Aware of your malevolent intentions before your plagued society ever came in contact with me, my knowledge is limitless! I can see your thoughts, I can read your minds, I know every pathetic ploy you fiends shall hurl at me!"

Taking an imposing stand, he continued his rant with no heed paid to the mortal peril he was in. "Tremble, you worthless denizens of darkness, for the Bane of SERN has arrived to purge the land of your iniquities!"

A moment of silence followed this statement as his audience pondered the grandiose string of meaningless words that had just poured from the guy's lips. The chairman sat in a daze. This…this is the leader of the Resistance? How on earth have they survived for so long?

"Sir?" the squadron leaders voice came in across the line, sounding as befuddled as the chairman felt. "Do we take him hostage?"

Coming to his senses, the chairman grabbed for the mike. "Of course, you fools! Whatever you do, don't kill him!" We need that information above anything else...as clueless as the man may seem.

The commander sighed into the radio, momentarily feeling a wish, however brief, for the good ol' days, when the prey stood at least a fighting chance before their troops.

Ah, well, some people just draw the short straw in life.

He raised a forearm authoritatively, garnering the attention of all his gathered men before barking a command over the radio to the snipers on the rooftop. "Right, men! Crippling shots only, do not aim for the upper body! Hostile is to be brought in alive and kicking! Do you copy?"

A chorus of assent arose from the assembled men, who were feeling a good deal more relaxed now that the enemy was visible. After all, what damage could a lone man do against what was essentially a small army?

The snipers set their sights on the target's thighs and shins, prepared to send him down with a few bullets. The injuries about to be sustained by the advancing madman were certain to leave the lunatic crippled.

Taking aim, the entire sniper platoon of ten men took great care in lining the target up. Granted, the target's legs would probably be shredded beyond repair, but a bit of overkill never hurt anyone. Besides, it's not like he needed his legs for interrogation, and after that…well, rumor had it you got wings behind the Pearly Gates up yonder, so it was really a non-issue.

However, a tiny glitch marred the working of this otherwise perfect plan. An over-eager cadet in the first real fight of his life shot a fraction of a moment before the command was given, squeezing his trigger a good half-second before the others in his group.

The premature bullet spiraled steadily through the air, leading the pack of metal balls that followed it. Flying towards the unsuspecting target like a strike from the heavens, the bullet arrowed its brutal way onwards…

It took the intruder solidly in the foot, knocking him sprawling onto the concrete in front of him, right in the path of the swarm of bullets fired by the other snipers.

Several of the projectiles penetrated the flimsy helmet that was covering his skull, but the remainder buried themselves in his torso like nails driven by a giant, releasing a fine crimson mist. His headphones were shattered beyond recognition, shards of plastic flying as he continued falling forward. The sheer momentum of the bullets contorted his falling body, and he landed with his face up.

Not a single one of the bullets had missed the man, who lay in a crumpled heap upon the ground, blood spreading in a slow pool from the pathetic form. His limbs, akimbo as they were, were arranged a caricature of that danse macabre notoriously associated with death. His white lab coat was stained with red tincture while his eyes stared sightlessly at the grey sky. A sickeningly secretive smile lingered smugly, barely discernable on his scarlet-stained face.

One of the snipers on the roof leaned back from his tripod, mildly disappointed by how easy that had been. Huh. So much for being able to 'see our every thoughts'…or whatever he'd said.

The chairman sat a moment before the screen, stunned by what had just happened. Coming alive, he flapped furiously for the comm link, squawking aggrievedly at the squadron leader: "You bungling idiots! You were supposed to take him in ali-"

Message sent.


::::::::::::1.130210::::::::::::


Worldline: 1.130210β,
Date: February 1st, 2030

Taking aim, the entire sniper platoon of ten men took great care in lining the target up. Granted, the target's legs would probably be shredded beyond repair, but a bit of overkill never hurt anyone. Besides, it's not like he needed his legs for interrogation, and after that…well, rumor had it you got wings behind the Pearly Gates up yonder, so it was really a non-issue.

However, a tiny glitch marred the working of this otherwise perfect plan. An over-eager cadet in the first real fight of his life shot a fraction of a moment before the command was given, squeezing his trigger a good half-second before the others in his group.

The premature bullet spiraled steadily through the air, leading the pack of metal balls that followed it. Flying towards the unsuspecting target like a strike from the heavens, the bullet arrowed its brutal way onwards…

Move.

The man on the ground jerked his body a foot to the side, neatly dodging the first bullet (and all the subsequent ones as well). In the breathless instant that followed his miraculous evasion, he regained his footing and turned to face his opponents once more, a merciless gleam twinkling in his eye.

One of the snipers on the roof promptly began panicking. How on earth could any man move that fast? Could it be… is he really able to 'see our every thoughts'…or whatever he'd said? There's no other way he could have known what was coming!

As the snipers on the roof deliberated in bafflement, the attacker went into action. Moving rapidly, taking advantage of his foe's (understandable) distraction, the lone man squared himself off and drew a medium-sized pistol from within the voluminous folds of his hideously impractical garment. Sighting along the barrel for a bare moment, he squeezed off half-a-dozen shots in rapid succession.

On the roof, six snipers slumped over their weapons.

There was a moment of stunned silence following this incredible feat of marksmanship, dampened only by the sharp sound of metal on metal as the solitary assassin slotted a new clip into his weapon with a * chunk*, tossing his used one to the floor before continuing his crazed monologue.

"You see? I am aware of your every move! Continued resistance is beyond futile, but you shall not desist! I see this in your minds! For does the foul dragon have the choice of refraining his fight with the white knight? No, he remains doomed to his fate, bound by his destiny to inevitable destruction! So shall it be with all evildoers who dare cross the path of Hououin Kyouma!"

Here, the noble speech descended back to (very professional) crazy laughter.

Moistening his lips uneasily with his tongue, the squadron commander found himself shivering at the words the man was saying, as well as the uncanny way the man had known exactly when to move to the side. What is this man? Can he move fast enough to dodge bullets? Can he actuality read our thoughts and tell our positions? It's almost like he knew exactly when and where the snipers were going to shoot…

It was time to take drastic measures. He had been planning to keep his own gunmen in reserve, seeing as there was really only one hostile, but the failure of the sniper team had left the squad leader wary of any half-measures. Best to hit him hard, hit him fast.

The commander had no remaining illusions concerning the expertise of the man approaching them - anyone who could sense a preemptive strike and dodge it so nimbly was certainly a force to be reckoned with. His aim was fairly impressive as well: firing six crack shots so accurately was not easy, and was certainly proof of the man's danger. He may bleed to death from this, but for now my goal is to keep this facility safe at all costs. And with that, the commander decided to bring his own men into play.

"Open fire! Aim for the legs!" he shouted, putting the feet of the man in the crosshairs and holding the trigger down. As he did so, his entire force (who had been itching for some action) pumped their weapons as well, following the lead of their commander.

A veritable hail of lead flew towards the man's feet, aiming squarely at his lower body. It was a textbook spread: not a single bullet went off the mark, the rain of fire clustering on his legs for instant crippling. The man kept advancing as dozens of deadly balls flew unerringly towards his body…

Unfortunately, the squad leader had drastically overestimated the fortitude of his opponent. Instead of remaining upright when the bullets struck him, the mystery man displayed less endurance than your average scarecrow. He collapsed like a rag doll at the first strike, curling about his bleeding thigh by bending his upper half down.

Right into the line of fire.

Slamming into his body like a thunderbolt, the stream of bullets took the man apart. His headset shattering to a million pieces under the impact, his helmet virtually disintegrated under the barrage of hot lead. The impact alone knocked him a good six feet back through the air, rolling him another four at least. When he came to a stop at last, he remained motionless on the ground, a crumpled heap of flesh that was mangled beyond all recognition.

The chairman, who had been momentarily stunned by the lone man's incredible escape from the sniper's bullets, waited a beat before angrily calling the squadron leader. "You idiot! What the devil do you think you're playing at? I specifically told you that he wasn't to be kil-"

Message sent.


::::::::::::1.130211::::::::::::


Worldline: 1.130211 β,
Date: February 1st, 2030

"Open fire! Aim for the legs!" he shouted, putting the feet of the man in the crosshairs and holding the trigger down. As he did so, his entire force (who had been itching for some action) pumped their weapons as well, following the lead of their commander.

A veritable hail of lead flew towards the man's feet, aiming squarely at his lower body. It was a textbook spread: not a single bullet went off the mark, the rain of fire clustering on his legs for instant crippling. The man kept advancing as dozens of deadly balls flew unerringly towards his body…

Roll right.

Lurching sideways suddenly, the man in the lab coat threw himself to the right, neatly dodging the stream of hot lead that sang by him like a swarm of angry bees. Several gasps and curses came from the machine-gunners, who were baffled once more by this man's preternatural ability to avoid bullets. What is this guy capable of?

As he fell, the white-clad man changed his direction in mid-air and tucked into a tight roll, spinning quickly when he contacted the ground. As he unfolded himself into a crouch, he extended one arm, using his momentum to lob a dark object into the midst of the assembled troops.

The commander looked on with semi-detached interest as the hurled projectile sailed through the air, barely visible against the grey backdrop of the concrete structure. The small portion of his mind that wasn't actively panicking idly identified it while watching it bounce about among the horror-struck men.

Regular frag grenade. Standard issue. Explosion radius, approximately 4.5 meters – easily enough to take out all the men gathered here. Time till detonation: around 1.2 seconds, judging by when he tossed it up.

Chances of survival: nil.

He opened the line to the chairman moments after the explosive landed, watching his men try vainly to back away. Some even turned about entirely, attempting to run for it while knowing full well that they would never make it.

He sighed heavily, his breath sounding like thick static over the connection. The chairman was not exactly a person that he wanted to give his last words to, so he decided not to put too much effort into it. A very short straw, indeed. To blazes with the 'good ol' days'.

"Tell my–"

The explosion rattled the entire building, felt by the chairman himself as he sat in his office watching the video incredulously. There's no way…that's just…how did he…was that the whole squad?

Breaking out of his stupor, he leaned in closer to his mike, trying to contact the commander. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

He was answered by nothing but the raving lunatic continuing his mad rants. "Behold, the awesome power of Hououin Kyouma! The one who holds the strings of fate, the one who dances with the destiny of every man! Today, I judge not a man, but a monstrous entity – SERN! I have deemed them guilty of crimes beyond remuneration, and shall therefore entirely destroy any man who is connected to them!"

Feeling more than a bit worried at this point, the chairman switched to the open communications line and tried to contact any of the soldiers. "Status report. Any surviving troops, respond immediately."

His line crackled fitfully for a few moments, before coming to life as someone made contact. "Mr. Chairman, sir? This is Sniper 4, calling in from the rooftop position. The perpetrator has just tossed some kind of grenade at the ground troops - I have a negative on survivors at the moment. The commander isn't responding, and the lobby appeared to have been cleared entirely. There are four of us left up here, awaiting your orders."

The chairman swore viciously. Incompetent fools. How were they unable to take down a lone man from a defensive fortification? Unbelievable. His private diatribe was broken only by the sniper's continued chatter.

"We have a bead on the suspect's forehead at this exact moment, sir. Are we shooting to kill, or are we still trying to apprehend the man?" the man asked, cocking the long-barreled rifle to his shoulder.

The chairman was torn. On the one hand, he desperately needed any information he could get on Valkyrie. On the other hand, of course, the squad leader wasn't responding to any commands and the cameras were playing nothing but static, so perhaps it would be best if the threat was ended here and now.

The computer monitors showed that the entrance was a complete wreck; nothing remaining of the many soldiers who'd been crowded there just moments ago. Furthermore, the single assassin was marching his way to the lobby, appearing fully prepared to barge his way straight into the inner sanctum of the Organization. The chairman came to a decision.

"Terminate the threat immediately. At the moment, the risks associated with keeping him alive far outweigh the loss inculcated by his death. A regrettable outcome, but one that can hardly be avoided."

The sniper didn't respond vocally, but instead took a moment to look at the bodies of his partners who were still lying prone, slumped in the same posture they'd been in. Some even had their fingers still planted on their triggers, reluctant to let go even in death.

He breathed deeply, nerved himself up one last time, and nodded to his remaining companions before turning back to his scope. He checked his aim one last time before pulling the trigger gently, igniting a packet of refined gunpowder and sending a steel-jacketed bullet rocketing towards the advancing killer…

The chairman watched on the cameras as the shot took the man cleanly in the center of his forehead, knocking him back several paces. The entry point was a few centimeters below the rim of the man's helmet, and left a dime-sized hole in his skull as he slowly collapsed forward, brain matter completely destroyed. The following shots to his chest were just decoration – the first bullet had killed him.

"I…we did it. He's dead, sir," said the sniper stupidly, unable to take in the information that they'd just eliminated the leader of the Resistance with a single shot. Not to mention the man who'd taken out six snipers and a squad of prepared soldiers all by himself.

The chairman let out a deep breath before slumping back in his chair. Well, that was a lot of trouble, but at least the man's dead now. He spoke aloud to the sniper, who was still dumbstruck. "That was a good shot, soldier. Pity about the information, but it appears that even he wasn't bullet-proo–"

Message sent.


::::::::::::1.130212::::::::::::


Worldline: 1.130212 β,
Date: February 1st, 2030

"A regrettable outcome, but one that can hardly be avoided."

He breathed deeply, nerved himself up one last time, and nodded to his remaining companions before turning back to his scope. He checked his aim one last time before pulling the trigger gently, igniting a packet of refined gunpowder and sending a steel-jacketed bullet rocketing towards the advancing killer…

Dodge.

Jerking his head to the side nanoseconds before impact, the attacker remained untouched by the bullet. It buzzed by his ear with an angry whine before embedding itself solidly in the ground behind him. Slivers of concrete splintered up, showering the mysterious figure with fragments and dust.

The snipers took a sharp breath of air in. He did it again! He knew exactly when the bullet was coming and where it was going to fly. How is he doing it? Even if he listened in to our radio chatter, he couldn't tell exactly where I was aiming.

A horrifying thought occurred to all four them almost simultaneously. Unless…he really can read minds.

A movement from below broke the sniper team from their paranoid (and illogical) thoughts. The man, this 'Hououin Kyouma' guy, was pulling out his pistol and aiming at something on the roof. Wait a minute…

The chairman could only watch on in helpless frustration as the leader of Valkyrie neutralized the last four remaining SERN operatives within the facility, plugging the snipers with neat and efficient shots. The man then pocketed his pistol and strolled nonchalantly into the labyrinth of corridors that was SERN's main base.

Fingers trembling, the chairman activated all the anti-personnel countermeasures (aka 'death traps') that the building contained. He then checked on the status of the backup: still about fifteen minutes out. He checked the monitors again, only to find the intruder making his way to the first set of obstacles, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he was waltzing straight into the lion's den.

The chairman wanted to credit the man's persistence to simple idiocy, but after watching that extraordinary display of fighting outside, he wasn't sure what to think anymore.

Who is this man?


A/N: This will be a two-shot. Next part will be up in around a month, probably. Around 5000 words are down already, but it's got to be perfect before I post it.

Science Facts For Nerds: Worldline '1.130209' is part of the Beta Attractor Field, which is essentially all the worldlines where two things happened – 1. Suzuha never became 'John Titor' and instead stayed in the revolutionary future; and 2. World War III is fought over Makise's Time Travel Thesis. This particular worldline (and all those near it) are unofficially thought to be the only ones that Okabe's 'Static SMS' message could be viewed in. Viewing the message, of course, leads to a worldline shift to Steins;Gate, erasing the original timeline.

This story was, in fact, not inspired by Edge of Tomorrow, but was rather an idea I've had for quite some time. I was highly amused when the movie came out, believe you me. Talk about coincidences.

This is the first 'T-rated' story I've ever written. Be kind in your reviews, please!

Notice how I implied that you would be leaving a review? Subliminal messaging, folks. Works every time.

I hope.

We'll see soon, won't we?