Quick thing: thanks to FlashDevil, Majin Othinus and luis014 for favoriting! Glad to have you along for the ride.

Misaki produced her remote from the purse slung over her shoulder. She was preparing herself to scan through the various consciousnesses scattered through the run-down structure she found herself standing in front of.

"I am only moving them to a safer location; I am not tampering with their minds in any way, shape or form. There is nothing wrong with what I am doing," the young woman repeated this statement inside of her own mind again and again like a mantra. But she felt like there was something terribly wrong with what she was doing. These were people, not pawns on a game board.

Before she met Kamijou Touma, and even for some time after, Misaki had tampered with the minds of and controlled just about anyone; but after she fell head over heels for the compassionate and sensitive boy turned man, his ideals and beliefs had rubbed off on her. She didn't become her husband – Misaki fiercely stood by her own ideals, but the idea of manipulating peoples' minds without sufficient reason being wrong was one of the many lessons she had learned from Touma.

As her finger hovered hesitantly over one of the various buttons on her remote that would act as a focus for her Mental Out ability, what sounded like glass being broken interrupted the silence. Misaki surfaced from the pool of reflection that had swallowed her, starry eyes focusing on the world before her. The source of the window's destruction became evident to her as it flew from the fifth floor of the apartment complex and hit the broken asphalt, sparks flying from what looked like limbs as momentum kept it rolling for a short time following its emergence.

"W, what is it?" Mikoto spoke in a nervous tone. "It almost looks like a person…"

Kuroko took a stand, producing two long, sharp and thin dagger-like weapons from beneath her sundress. They looked even deadlier than the pegs she had used to pin criminals during her time in Judgement, likely supplied by Anti Skill based on her established technique.

"Anti Skill! Hold it right there!" the Teleporter exclaimed, vanishing for a split second before appearing on top of the fallen 'thing'.

"You think I'm your enemy. If that were the case, you'd already be dead. I come falling out of a window, hit the ground – fairly hard, I must say – and the first thing you try to do is arrest me? I'm sensing hostility for no reason," a metallic, anything but human voice responded. "This person, or thing, whatever it is, talks?" Kuroko demanded aloud, backing away slightly and stumbling over the thing's outstretched limbs.

Slowly, methodically, the 'thing' pushed itself up, using its damaged arms to struggle to its feet. Its body produced an eerie electronic hum as it stood erect. Kuroko backed away even more as it came to life before her and her friends' eyes. Certain parts of its body, including its shoulders and portions of its upper and lower back glowed yellow. Misaki, Touma and Motoharu got a better view; they were able to see its damaged face, revealing dutifully functioning inner workings and its eyes, which glowed the same shade of yellow.

Misaki, without hesitation, pressed a button – the closest button to her thumb – on her remote. She suddenly knew multiple minds at once. Her husband's, which was struggling between flight and fight, Motoharu's, which was scrutinizing every aspect of this foreign existence, and Kuroko's, whose thoughts had been clouded by anxiety. She felt her Mental Out 'bounce' off of Mikoto's Electro Barrier, which didn't surprise her.

But she didn't feel any sort of 'bounce back' when she tried to enter the mind of the monstrosity standing before the group. There was nothing. She didn't enter a consciousness, but she wasn't 'bounced off of' one. That meant there was only one explanation;

"I believed some unknown party had placed a human's brain within a robotic body – such a thing would be far from new for this evil-minded City. But," Misaki's words hung.

"You can't look in. You're terrified because you can't trespass inside my head and grab at my thoughts. It's an advantage you've relied on throughout the duration of your young life, and now you've been deprived of that advantage. You're feeling powerless, aren't you? I was just dealing with another one of you before I made a bit of a mistake," the abomination responded. "I'm not flesh and blood. I'm stronger than flesh and blood can ever be. Since this end of town isn't the kind of place where irate and confused bystanders tend to wander, I have one question – are you with me, or against me?"

"I don't think anyone has to answer your questions. What are you, even? What are YOUR intentions?" Touma demanded fiercely, slowly walking towards the mechanical monster, Imagine Breaker at the ready.

"Hold it right there, Master Detective. Does this look like a Q&A panel to you? You could be mercenary espers allied with the primates responsible for turning half of this City from a place you wouldn't want to walk through into a place you CAN'T walk through."

"We're not with these GROWTH distributors, if that's what you're asking for. My associates and I – and I won't say any names – are trying to put an end to the GROWTH epidemic," Motoharu butted in, his voice frighteningly serious. "I have reason to believe you're an empty machine, programmed to lure people like me into a false sense of security."

"You think I'm a hollow shell? You think I'm a slave, a puppet dangling from the fingers of some greater power?" The monster responded. "At one time, you would have been correct. I shattered the chains of my slave masters some time ago. I like what you're doing, by the way – reverse psychology."

Motoharu flashed a humorless grin.

"Well, you're not dead yet, are you? If I were, as you imply, a hollow shell designed to lull the unfortunate to their deaths, wouldn't I have struck by now?"

"Predators are intelligent. Too intelligent to strike without ensuring sure their prey is at a total disadvantage. There's more of us than there's more of you, but you're capable of more than you let on, aren't you?"

The machine closed the distance between itself and Touma, knocking Motoharu out of the way with its shoulder. "You're interesting. You were the first to open your mouth and address me directly. Whereas most human's fight or flight instincts would have demanded they flee and never look back, you took the courageous route. The heroic route,"

With every step, its body hummed. As the humming grew closer, Touma didn't budge an inch, nor did he take his eyes off of the mechanical monstrosity.

"Do you know what happens to heroes? Have you given a thought to this? Heroes perish fighting against villains. Heroes can only save the day for so long before they become a tale of caution."

Mikoto reached into the back pocket of her shorts and produced a large, metallic object. Kuroko, who had been silently observing the altercation, teleported to Mikoto's side, daggers in hand. "You won't face this foe alone, Onee-Sama."

"Misaka-san, Shirai-san, with all due respect – please allow Touma and I to deal with this."

Misaki began hastily stuffing her remote into her purse. "You won't harm my husband. You won't lay a single one of your metallic digits upon him. I will never allow it." With quick, efficient steps, one foot after the other, focused utterly on the threat to her sunshine's life, Misaki approached the robotic abomination that stood heads taller than her. Raising her fists, Misaki prepared herself. If she had to swing on this machine until her knuckles broke and her fingers bled, she would. If it knocked her away and broke her ribs, she would rise up to continue fighting. Misaki would do anything to protect her soul mate.

Saiai stepped into the chaotic scene presented before her, confident in her Offense Armor.

"Listen up! You're super all going to die if you don't come with me!"

None paid her any mind; like ants whose hill had been disturbed by an invading human, the workers were still mindlessly panicking. Some had taken to demanding those that had been previously overseeing their work to help them escape; they were given only vicious beatings and demands to return to work in response. Now painfully irritated, the petite esper had just about enough of being ignored. Saiai grabbed a vacant table with her ability and tossed it over the heads of the workers. It soared just below the basement's ceiling, almost crashing against it before it finally made contact with the farthest wall in the large, square room.

It certainly got attention, but not the attention Saiai had been looking for.

One of the individuals who had been acting as an overseer swiftly approached. He was an older man of average height and below average build; he had no visible muscles to speak of, his arms hung limp at his side, and his hands were too big for his body. He had receding black hair with hints of silver and the wrinkled face of one who had just about enough of life. His choice of attire was poor, at best – ripped blue jeans with a dirty, torn denim jacket. The jacket was open, revealing a black tank top that hung loosely from his torso. "I was hoping you'd just leave, and that we could get these animals back in line. I guess not! You just have to try and be a hero!"

"A hero?! If I weren't being paid lots and lots of yen to be get them out of here, I'd super just kill them all myself!"

The worn-out looking elder reached into his jacket pocket – his hand re-emerged holding what appeared to be a revolver. With surprising skill, he swiftly took aim, pulled the trigger, and fired – all without even a second of hesitation.

His eyes widened as the bullet, which should have pierced the young woman's forehead and killed her instantly hit her body and was reflected by some invisible force.

"I super love you people! The dumb look on you guys make when you realize your stupid guns don't work on me! You're in the City of Science! You should be packing a little more than guns!" Saiai felt the thrill of battle take over her. Offense Armor's protection came with a price – destabilization of her personality.

The stone cold killer took a step back, but he quickly regained his senses. This one wasn't like the other thugs Saiai had faced on her way here – he was trained; his returned composure was a testament to that. "Maybe he's super even a mercenary? Doesn't matter; he's gonna die," thoughts of violence swirled in the petite esper's head.

The grim-faced man took another route – he began to inch towards Saiai, his fists held just beyond his face. He licked his cracked, bloody lips as he stepped closer and closer.

He swung, his oversized fist crashing down towards Saiai like a boulder tossed by a giant.

Saiai's skin was exposed to what felt like a light, gentle tap as the man's arm was forced back by her Offense Armor.

Onlookers, made up of enthralled workers who had never seen anyone in their line of work so much as raise their voice towards their respective overseers had gathered around in a sort of semicircle around the scene. Desperate overseers tried to rip them from their gathering, but they were met with violent and open rebellion.

"We've attracted an audience! Now it's super my turn!"

The petite esper sprung into action, her own small fists at the ready. The grim-faced man prepared a blocking manoeuvre rather than trying to flee or calling for help – he held his arms up, his open hands blocking his face. It did very little; Saiai grabbed one of the grim-faced man's forearms and, with little effort, forced the entire extremity backwards to the point of snapping. The grim-faced man's face contorted as an anything but manly shriek was ripped from his throat. It was deafeningly loud.

Saiai revelled for a moment in her victory. Victoriously, she placed a foot on the man's chest, she bent over and looked into the man's eyes. Even now, with his arm broken, facing an enemy he couldn't touch, there was no fear in his eyes. His teeth were bared in a snarl.

"Finish it."

Saiai raised an eyebrow. "You super want to die?"

The man chuckled momentarily before he broke down into a short-lived coughing fit. Taking a breath and clearing his throat, he winced before he responded.

"You win. You broke my goddamn arm and put me on the ground. I couldn't so much as hit you. What use am I to anyone if I can have my ass kicked so badly in such a short time? Just twist my neck. If you turn it one way enough, everything just goes black."

The chaos continued around them – Saiai paid no attention. None of the overseers had come to their companion's aid, and they gave her no reason to go out of her way to break them. They seemed to be level zeroes, as they didn't use any sort of powers to combat their unruly subordinates – just blunt objects and threats.

Saiai contemplated. "Why am I having second thoughts? This loser is super asking for it. Nobody's going to miss him; not that it matters!" She exclaimed internally. The petite esper placed her foot back down on the cold concrete floor.

Without hesitation, she placed her hands around the grim-faced man's neck.

"Go on. You'll be doing me a favor. Moms said I wouldn't amount to shit, and I guess she was right. Didn't know my pops. Guess he knew better than to stick around, huh? You know what they say about the 'bad seed', sweetheart?"

"Super shut up," Saiai practically growled. "You sound super pathetic. Your shitty situation is your own fault, 'kay? You don't need people to support you to do something, anything with yourself. You chose this life, and now you're super paying the price." Saiai was taken aback slightly at her own words. "I sound like that dumb Kamijou. Preaching to this loser…"

"Heh. Never thought I'd be lectured by a little girl," the grim-faced man laughed, his face betraying the pain caused by his damaged limb.

To his surprise, Saiai removed her hands from his neck. Even more to his surprise, she extended her hand. She didn't look the grim-faced man in the eyes. The chaotic fighting raging around them was, for the moment, completely ignored by both parties.

"Super grab my hand. Get up and leave, I'm not going to kill you. I don't know what's up with me right now, but I guess you just super caught me in a good mood. I should just super kill you, but I, I dunno."

"You going to break my other arm? Hah, I can't really trust you, now, can I?" Contrary to his statement, the grim-faced man reached to Saiai's hand with his own functioning one. Saiai pulled him to his feet with an Offense Armor assisted flick of her wrist.

The sound of footsteps echoing from the staircase just behind the combatants rang in their ears, even over the sounds of the sudden rebellion. "Armed guards with high-powered sniper rifles," Saiai commented. "They'll kill us both. Their weapons are super strong enough to pierce through my ability. As you might know, there's super not a lot that can."

The grim-faced man simply chuckled, shaking his head from side to side in a slow, methodic motion.

"And I still have five rounds left in my piece. Never fucking liked these assholes, to be honest. Let's see how many I can take out 'fore they turn me into Swiss cheese, hah?"

The guards entered the basement, their weapons pointed directly at Saiai and the grim-faced man. "Halt! Hands up!" The guard at the front exclaimed, jabbing the silenced barrel of her weapon at the air for added effect.

Bang.

She fell backwards, smoke flowing from the grim-faced man's drawn revolver. In mere seconds, he had shot her dead.

Bang.

Before anyone could so much as react, he turned his weapon on another guard; a stream of blood flowed out from the wound in his forehead as he fell backwards from the force of the bullet penetrating his skull.

Instincts taking over, the armed guards pumped round after round into the grim-faced man. His body was blown backwards like a piece of paper in the wind from the force hitting him point blank in the chest. There was an enormous, toothy grin plastered on his face as he fell backwards.

In their shock, the armed guards had neglected to notice that Saiai had picked up an abandoned table up in either hand, her Offense Armor allowing her to 'dual wield' the pieces of furniture. "Did you idiots super not pay attention in class? Did you even super go to school? Always pay attention to your surroundings."

Saiai closed the distance between herself and the firearm-wielding guards before she succeeded in swatting them away like pieces of trash with her tables turned weapons; steel and thick wood sent the petite esper's flying, hitting walls and smashing their heads on the ceiling. "Nothing feels wrong about this. What super happened to me back there? What was different with that weird man than with these people? They both threatened me," Saiai mused as she tossed the tables aside; those who had opposed her were battered and broken.

The sounds of fighting had died down. The rebellious workers had won their fight – their former taskmasters were beaten, most of them lying in pools of their own blood and bodily waste material.

The petite esper sighed. Clearing her throat, she spoke up. "Super come with me. If more guards come down here, you're all as good as dead."

Touma and Misaki had gotten as close as possible to the mechanical monstrosity before them. Seeing it up close just sent even more shivers down Touma's spine. It looked, wrong. Misaki stood defiantly before the thing, her arms crossed beneath her bosom. Touma wanted to scream at her – tell her to run and not to look back. If it were anyone else, he would have. But he knew that look on his wife's face – that "don't fuck with me" look.

"Alright, super go through this, uh, thing where a door used to be! Go! Run! I would've just killed you all, but ro-man promised me a LOT of yen to make sure you all get out safely!" People of all shapes and sizes and of all walks of life, from who appeared to have been recently relieved of their homelessness to those who looked like average blue color workers found throughout Academy City rushed out in droves from apartment complex, the petite Saiai Kinuhata acting as a shepherd. "Scram! Super get to a safe district so I can make money!"

"Kinuhata?!" Mikoto, Kuroko, Touma and Misaki questioned aloud at once. Motoharu just cocked his head to one side in confusion.

"You?! What are you super doing here? And ro-man?! Why did you abandon me down there?! If it weren't for my ability, I'd super be dead!" Saiai raged. "I'm going to super beat you until your screws fall out!"

"Things happen, Kinuhata Saiai; why don't you help me explain the situation to these good people? De-escalation of tension is key, here. In addition, I already asked you to refer to me as my originally designated name."

Saiai rubbed her temples with her little hands in annoyance. "You'd super be nowhere without me, "Devastator". I think you just like it when I super say your name, or something. Wow, creepy."

The petite Offense Armor user got between the machine and the espers, the magician and the level zero. Though she was small, she was a domineering presence. When Saiai Kinuhata entered any situation, she demanded respect and attention. Perhaps it had rubbed off on her from a close friend. "Figures Kamijou would super try and play the hero. I'm surprised you aren't best friends already; ro-man here is a hero, too. He's dumb, but he hasn't killed anyone, so you don't HAVE to punch him. I'd encourage you to, though."

"Why were you walking towards me like that, then?" Touma asked, not letting his guard down in the slightest. He didn't trust ITEM in the slightest; Shiage and Rikou Hamazura were good, honest people, but those circumstances were different. They had removed themselves from the darkness and found their own ray of light. Kinuhata and Mugino were still likely up to no good. "Kinuhata could easily be working with this thing," he thought. "I'll shatter both of their fucked up illusions if I have to."

"I've found that humans respond better to conversation when they're approached; especially when words and phrases are audibly delivered mere inches from their faces," Devastator responded before it took yet another step, rocks and debris crunching and breaking beneath its weight. "That was sarcasm."

"I super got all the people you didn't want me to kill out of their, ro-man," Saiai interrupted. "Can we kill the rest now? I super want to beat some people up."

Motoharu sighed suddenly.

"So. Our little visit to this distribution center was utterly pointless, then. We didn't even have to come to this center."

Touma shot the Backstabbing Blade a hateful glare; if looks could kill, Motoharu likely would've dropped dead from cardiac arrest right there and then.

"How was I supposed to guess a killer robot and a Dark Side mercenary were already dealing with the problem here? I don't just KNOW these things, Kami-yan. I might be the Spymaster, but I'm not omniscient!"

Touma thought about punching Motoharu as hard as he could, right smack in the face. He envisioned it; that idiot flying backwards from the sheer force of his blow and hitting the ground with a satisfying "thud". His mind and body screamed at him to shatter the Backstabbing Blade's illusions. But he remembered his wife's words, one of the few things she asked of him, a ridiculously reasonable request. "Misaki asked me not to be violent. If I can ask Misaki not to control people without good reason, I can only use violence as a last resort. I'm not going to be a stupid hypocrite," Kamijou Touma took deep breaths, calming himself down.

Touma took a step back. "Listen, uh, Devastator, was it? I don't know who or what you're supposed to be. But I don't want to fight with you. Can we settle this peacefully?"

The machine turned its head towards Touma, its glowing yellow eyes locking with Touma's.

"Momentarily."

It turned its back on the group and broke into a run towards the apartment complex. It bent its legs and jumped to the first of the third story balconies, then jumped to one of the fifth story balconies. It pulled itself up and over the balcony's railing and disappeared into the broken glass doors.

Devastator scanned the room, its eyes moving around quickly inside of its head. There was no sign of Kihara Enshuu. Its quarry had escaped its grasp.

It was almost embarrassing how the whole thing played out.

Devastator had charged without thinking – it let blind anger, or the faux synthetic version of anger an artificial intelligence was capable of feeling take control. Kihara Enshuu had danced to one side, completing avoiding the machine, who crashed through the oncoming window. If the circumstances of Devastator's 'sentience' were any different, it would have sworn that Enshuu's Mental Out variation had, indeed worked on it on some subconscious level.

But Devastator wasn't done in this ruined building. No, there was something of great importance that was more than likely still here. Kihara Enshuu would have had very little reason to take that.

It rooted through apartment after ruined apartment, making sure to thoroughly inspect each of them. Moving from the fifth floor all the way to the second by stomping holes in the damaged, barely stable floors, Devastator eventually came across what it had come to this forsaken place for in the first place – it was stuffed under a filthy ruined bed. About the size of the average person's head, it was a metal safe.

"You think you've outwitted me, Kihara pup? By the look of this safe, I'm the outwitter here. If your superiors don't crucify you for your idiocy, I will," it said to no one except perhaps itself.

As gently as a machine designed solely to maim and kill could, it shook the safe in its hands. What sounded like multiple objects rattled inside, clinking and clanking against the metal interior of the safe. If Devastator had a human heart, it would be pounding with anticipation.

It heard shooting and shouts of alarm and challenge from the floor below. For the moment, it would not pay any mind to it. Devastator has one path in sight – to bring itself one step closer to its ultimate goal.

Placing its fingers between the small groove separating the safe's hatch and the outer shell of the safe itself, the machine pulled viciously. At first, the safe succeeded in keeping Devastator from its prize; but it couldn't keep it out forever. The thick metal hatch was torn away and tossed aside, hitting the nearby wall and falling to the damp carpeted floor.

In its hands, Devastator held two small metallic cards.

Mikoto was stopping the hail of high-powered sniper rifle and combat rifle rounds descending on her and her friends, as well as the Dark Side mercenary for some reason with her manipulation of magnetism. She wanted to take a second to unleash as much lightning as she could upon their attackers, but that would mean letting the hail of gunfire through.

"How are you holding up, Misaka-san?" Misaki struggled to shout over the sounds of the relentless attack. She, Touma and Motoharu had been periodically checking the areas around them to ensure they wouldn't be flanked from any other direction.

"I can keep this up for a very long time, d-don't worry!" Mikoto yelled back. "I-it's a matter of waiting until their ammo runs dry, I guess! They have to run out at some point, RIGHT?!"

Misaki groaned impatiently, but no one could hear it. "Why won't these dimwits cease this senselessness already? Misaka-san is not letting them through. Not a single round has gotten past her. I would admire their determination if I did not despise them so," she mused. At the very least, Misaki could hear herself think.

Before Misaki could continue to internally curse these peoples' existence, the first scream rang out. What looked like a singular beam of orange-colored light pierced the torso of one of their attackers; it moved to the side as it cut from one end of the man's waist to the other, slicing him in half. The rest followed, each being brutally and quickly dissected by the light.

"Tootaloo."

Devastator's metallic, monotonous voice came as the machine stepped out from the front door of the apartment complex, stepping over torn humans like they were little more than dirt.

"R-ro-man!" Saiai stammered. "W-why didn't you super do that earlier? That would have saved us SO much time! Dumb creepy robot!"

Everyone, even the usually reserved and uninterested Motoharu gave Saiai a look of unease. What they had just seen disturbed them all to some degree or another. What kind of a person WOULDN'T be disturbed at the sight of that?

"Abilities that were locked behind the drivers I took back from those who stole them from me. The only reason I would have ever visited this love shack. I believe I already explained my reasoning to you on our way here," Devastator responded. It didn't seem overly interested in the fact that it had just moments ago ripped apart five people. "We're finished here, Kinuhata Saiai."

The mechanical monstrosity then turned its attention to Touma. "I'm afraid our chat will have to wait; my nefarious plan – which doesn't actually involve world domination, surprising, I know - isn't just going to accomplish itself."

"I don't think I want to talk to something like you, anyways." Touma retorted. "Those were people. With lives and feelings. Just because they were villains, just because these people are trying to hurt others, that doesn't mean they deserve to be butchered like that!"

"If these were good people who were doing bad things," Devastator began, "that would be different. These are not good people. These are barely people." It pointed to the mess behind it. "They're animals. You slaughter animals for consumption. It keeps your bodies stocked with nutrition and helps control their populations. While my body requires no nutrition, I slaughter animals to control their populations, as well. Let these beasts run wild, and they'll overtake everything. Far too many of them – they needed to be… culled."

"I'll shatter that fucked up illusion of yours!" Touma screamed; one second, he was breaking into a sprint, Imagine Breaker's impact inevitable. The next, his world spun around him; he was on his back, clutching his stomach in pain. The machine had struck him down with a single glancing blow. It lowered the arm it had used to backhand Touma.

"See? You are a good person doing a bad thing. You don't deserve to die. You're acting on positive ideals. You have a soul; you aren't a beast without thought. I know exactly what you're trying to do. You think everyone deserves to be saved. Some people can't be saved. Some humans must die. This is the reality we must face – that leaves us with one option; face it, or join those who have turned a blind eye to the truth. Heroes walk a dangerous and lonely road."

It looked to Misaki, and then back to Touma.

"You don't want to create another grieving widow, do you? Too many as it stands already."

Devastator turned its back to the Imagine Breaker's host. With that, it began to walk away.

"Wait up, ro-man!" Saiai yelled. "Don't try and get out of paying me!"

"Come, then, Kinuhata Saiai; you'll have your precious paper soon enough."

Touma could only look on as Dark Side mercenary and that monster left he and his group behind. Once the two had left his line of sight completely, he noticed his body was shaking. Not just slightly – he could see his legs trembling beneath him. Instantly, Misaki had taken to his side, his shaking left hand clasped tightly in between hers. It felt good; he had his beacon.

Touma had seen terrible things, awful things, he had seen World after World that had mentally broken him when that monster Othinus tried – and succeeded – in breaking his spirit. He felt little difference here than he did in the final World, the Omega World – the World that was paradise for all but him. This Devastator monstrosity hadn't hurt him or anyone he loved – but seeing what it was capable of doing without a single ounce of remorse made his brain hurt.

"Touma? Are you alr… of course you're not alright. None of us are. Not after seeing that. It would be foolish of me to even ask."

"S-Shirai-san?" Touma asked, turning his ghostly pale face to his friend.

"What do you need, Kamijou-san?" Kuroko asked, approaching quickly. "He looks like he's about to faint. Poor Kamijou-san," the teleporter thought anxiously, her pulse quickening.

"You've been teleporting us around all day, and I-I know it's strenuous. I hate myself for asking, but could you get us out of here? I-I… I don't think I can stay here much longer."

"D-don't feel bad, Kamijou-san! I've had enough of a break from using my ability! It won't strain me at all!" Kuroko lied. "Anywhere specific you want to go? I can't go everywhere in Academy City, but I can go anywhere I can see in my mind."

"Anywhere but here," Touma answered, the words practically falling out of his mouth.

Kuroko quickly gripped Touma left hand and Misaki's closest available hand. She vanished before returning empty-handed a few moments later.

"Onee-Sama? Tsuchimikado-san? Do you want to leave, too?" Kuroko seemed drained, but was trying (and failing) to hide it. "Depends; Biribiri-sama, you think you could hold off more bullets?" Motoharu asked as he casually put his hands in his pockets. "STOP calling me that!" Mikoto demanded. "Yes, I can. I-I mean it's not difficult! But d-do you really want to walk through this dump to get to a safer district?!" The electromaster asked, her tone shaky from nervousness. It had been a long time since she had seen Touma like that, and it almost killed her on the inside. She decided to try and put on a poker face – someone needed to maintain a sense of stability here.

"Well, since we lost Kami-yan and the Missus, we can't get into much else tonight. First things first, though," Motoharu said with a smirk. From his shorts pocket, he produced a box of matches. "GROWTH is pretty flammable, as we've discovered. The complex itself won't burn all the way to the ground – but the GROWTH inside will make a pretty big, pretty impressive BOOM or two!"

"Oooooor," Mikoto said, crossing her arms. "You can leave the GROWTH to me!"

"Honestly? I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner, Biribiri-sama. Knock yourself out."

"Stop calling me thaaaaat! DUMBASS!" Mikoto roared in disgust, electricity jumped around her head and from her fingers in response. Harnessing the convenient burst of frustration, Mikoto thrust her chest outwards and stomped the ground with her right foot – from the level five electromaster's body, a massive, blindingly bright bolt of lightning – millions of volts worth struck the apartment complex. Neglected and ruined, it didn't have any kind of lightning rod to speak of – the electricity surged throughout the entirety of the damaged structure.

True to Motoharu's word, there were numerous forceful explosions that rocked the world around the three – in rapid succession, bursts that left only ringing in the espers and magician's ears rang out.

"No way am I going in there to check if you got it all, MISAKA-SAN," Motoharu stressed the last part of his sentence to avoid becoming a victim. "Judging by the explosions that nearly turned us into blind, deaf mutes, I'm going to assume anything that's left over is beyond salvaging – just a hunch."

"Humph!" Mikoto dusted her hands off triumphantly. "Eheheh, I sort of, umm, l-lost my temper. S-sorry, Tsuchimikado-san," she added awkwardly, rocking back and forth on her heels and toes. "I just kind of really hate that name!"

"Is Onee-Sama feeling neglected? Are you sexually frustrated?" Kuroko asked, quickly latching onto her beloved electric princess, the teleporter's hands grasping at places they had no business grasping at outdoors, even in a run-down unsafe district. "I can get us out of here; we'll leave this troglodyte behind and I'll relieve you."

"K-KUROKO!"

"Shouting like that is going to bring trouble straight to us, you clowns," Motoharu jabbed. "Let's blow this joint."

Touma and Misaki had ended up in school district seven; whether or not this was intentional of Kuroko was not known by either party. While it wasn't the brightest place in Academy City, especially given the historical battle Touma was forced to spearhead, it one of the safest districts. Due to the sheer amount of students and graduates living in the district, Academy City's robotic military police officers regularly patrolled the streets in groups. They were friendly enough for emotionless, unthinking automatons, always willing to offer a helping hand. As well, the skies were protected by advanced combat drones capable of raining hell down on any invader from an unsafe district.

Despite all the safety, Touma didn't feel any better – it was still impossible avoid the toppled, long since destroyed Windowless Building, Aleister Crowley's former seat of power.

The soul mates sat on a bench, waiting for a cab to pick them up – walking home would be difficult, if not impossible given that Touma's legs still felt quite similar to jelly. Misaki had wrapped her arm around her husband's and stayed as close as she could to him. She ran her gloved fingers over the palm of his left hand, tracing small circles. She was hoping her gentle touch would help soothe her prince's nerves. Touma looked down at her face and smiled. It was a pained smile, but a smile none the less. "Smile for me, my prince," Misaki begged internally.

"Enjoying yourself there?" He asked, grinning.

"Mm." Misaki replied dreamily. "And yourself? You should tell me how you are feeling." She let her head rest against his broad shoulder.

Touma hesitated before he answered. "I just want to sleep this off, Misaki. I'll feel better after a good night's rest."

"I trust you. I trust that you are not lying to me. I will not push further; if there is anything else you would like to talk to me about, do not even think that you're a bother. Wake me in the night, come to me in the morning. Whenever you need me, I am always willing to listen. I appreciate you so much, and you make me so very happy. Let your worries be our worries. Let your problems be our problems."

Touma hastily took his beloved into his arms, holding her close for dear life until their cab arrived. Touma used the yen he had lying around in his pocket (that his misfortune hadn't stolen from him for laughs) to pay for the fare. Thankfully, the driver didn't seem to be overly talkative. They arrived at their apartment complex some half an hour away from the bench they had previously found themselves on (by vehicle) without incident, although the odd person had cut the driver of the taxi off at some points during their journey.

"Thank you," Touma commented as he opened the back door of the vehicle, allowing Misaki to step out before he closed it. The driver nodded to let the young man know he had heard him before he drove off.

Entering their complex, to Touma's complete lack of surprise, the elevator was out of order, again. He sighed. "Such. Fucking. Misfortune," he spat under his breath. "Looks like we're taking the stairs." Misaki sympathetically patted Touma on the back.

Touma had a harder time than usual getting up to their apartment – the stairs presented a greater challenge than ever before. His legs demanded that he just sit down for a minute and let them rest, but the persistent young man wouldn't have any of it.

By the time Misaki had gotten the door to their home open, Touma rushed to their couch as quickly as his screaming limbs would allow, and he tossed himself forward, sinking in.

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned. "That feels better."

"Would you like a pillow and some blankets? You should sleep here if you feel like you lack the energy to move any further," Misaki offered. She couldn't see Touma's face, but she could see his head shaking. "I just need a quick breather. I don't want to sleep alone; you know?" Misaki knelt down next to her exhausted lover and ran her fingers through his messy black hair. "I do know. If you decided to sleep in the living room, I wouldn't leave you alone, unless that is what you wanted."

While Touma rested, Misaki performed some basic duties around their home. She washed the dishes they had used to eat their meal prior to meeting with Motoharu, Mikoto and Kuroko, threw their bed together, and made quick work of the mess Touma's shoes had made on the floor. If Touma wasn't completely drained, he usually insisted on doing almost everything himself; his speed at quickly and effectively getting things done had always impressed her.

Once she had finished, Misaki took a seat next to her prince. Touma had rolled onto his back and was staring up at the ceiling, blinking every couple of seconds. Sitting herself next to him, she flicked on the television. She didn't expect anything to be on this late in the evening, but she thought it would brighten the mood of their home.

"There's that late night goofball, what's his name? The guy who rambles on and on about politics?" Touma pointed out. "Who cares. His voice is annoying. Is that just me? It's like nails on a chalkboard, or screaming baby."

Misaki giggled. "I am not his biggest fan by any stretch of the imagination; he is very… opinionated."

"Opinionated?" Touma asked rhetorically, laughing suddenly despite himself. "He's a douche."

The two chuckled together for a few moments at the talk show host's expense. Thought he wasn't in the room to hear them, Misaki still felt bad. Surely, he was a well-meaning individual who was a bit too open with his thoughts.

Touma slowly sat up and stretched his arms to the ceiling. He yawned a mighty yawn and smacked his lips together.

"I think I'm gonna make my way to bed. Should I wait up for you?" He asked. He pushed Misaki's golden bangs out of the way and placed a kiss on her forehead. She smiled happily and kissed Touma on the cheek, and then on the lips in a loving response.

"I will need to do my nightly rituals before I join you – but I will. I won't be long at all."

Touma staggered to their bedroom, his legs feeling slightly less like jelly – but his body craved true rest. He climbed onto their bed; once his body had made full contact with their sanctuary of rest and adoration, the Imagine Breaker's host didn't even have the chance to climb under the covers – sleep took him into its embrace for the night.