Quick thing: thanks, AKAava for following! It's great to have you on board! Thanks, silversean24 for favoriting, both this piece and Times Change! I greatly appreciate your support!
As always, here we are, response time. Let's go!
Whwsms: as always, I'm pleased with the fact that I'm able to consistently gain your approval, friend. There's not a whole lot I can say in regards to Belial and the Magic Side. You might be onto something, is all that I'll say, for the time being.
Kazari needed a cold, vicious slap from reality to awaken her. Will she remain awake, or will she fall back into delusion? As with so many things, only time will tell. I wouldn't turn that shark music off just yet.
When one chooses to fight fire with fire, a lot of people will be burned.
Having read through the masterpiece that is NT16, I encountered said moment. While it's not my "One True Pairing" as some folks in the business call it, I can respect the opinions and feelings of those who like Touma and Seria. It was a nice little nod to those people.
"I'll be bawck." Don't get me wrong, I love me some Arnie.
Guest: Touma is extensively trained in self-defense; soon, both he and his wife's hand to hand combat skills will be put to the test.
321jaz: and another one's coming your way – I'll do my best to keep chappies coming, as best as I can, until something inevitably throws itself in my way and slows the process down a bit. Regardless, you're not here to listen to me ramble!
The issue surrounding Kihara Enshuu and the Dreadsaws will have a fairly interesting conclusion. I'll say no more.
It's a dark turn; a very dark way of dealing with a very dark problem. As you, and other lovely readers have said, it's a matter of necessity, and priority over personal, and emotional attachments.
I, for one, wouldn't be surprised, either. I suppose we're bound to find out, aren't we? I'm glad to hear that you thought it fit the mood, just as I did!
That it is, friend, that it is.
Makes one wonder if Uiharu Kazari, Misaka Mikoto, Shirai Kuroko and Saten Ruiko could possibly rebuild what was destroyed.
I'm glad to know that I'm effectively succeeding in what I set out to accomplish!
As always, I hope to hear your thoughts on chapter twenty-six, and on subsequent chapters, as well!
Guest00: nice observations! I think I can safely agree with you, on this one. Making the choices that Kumokawa Seria has been forced to make must be a daunting task. There's a greater good, but, to get there, evils have to be committed.
Quite tragic. If only everything had happened differently, and Academy City didn't descend into a near-lawless hellscape.
Geust: very tough indeed. Just how, or if they'll pull through is, unfortunately, beyond my knowing.
I appreciate your understanding, friend. I hope that you'll enjoy reading Mitsuari Ayu's introduction over in another time, and in another place, as much as I'll enjoy writing it.
As I mentioned earlier, Uiharu Kazari could potentially teeter in either direction. Could this be little more than a moment of clarity? Or, was Kazari's stay with Shirai Kuroko and Misaka Mikoto an eye-opener? You'll have to read on to find out, I'm afraid.
As I mentioned previously, in my response to another reviewer, 321jaz, I'm glad you thought it fit the mood of the scene, just as I did! I'm also glad to know that you generally enjoyed the scene!
The action's coming. It's been something of a slow crawl, I'm aware of that, but, there has to be buildup to these things, right? I think so, at least.
DarkBetrayer: the long-awaited reveal is here, at last, DB-sensei! I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed writing about it.
Kazari merely made a quick assumption about Ruiko being deceased. Ruiko, as far as anyone knows, yet lives.
Without further ado, chapter twenty-six begins now.
September 23rd, 2014. 8:38 AM.
He dragged the armed guard behind a nearby, vacant transport truck, and stuffed the guard's corpse beneath the truck, out of the sight of parties would take interest in the guard's demise. Having twisted a wire around the unfortunate guard's neck, it took him mere minutes to strangle the life out of the choking, spluttering guard.
He bashed the lock, repeatedly, over and over. When this failed, he reached into his enormous, brown, leather backpack, and produced a pair of bolt cutters. Beneath their merciless jaws, the pristine chains, practically shining beneath the sun's rays, were broken. They fell to the ground with a series of clangs that satisfied him greatly. He pried the doors of the abandoned warehouse open with a crowbar. His arms shook, as did his legs. Clad in a black, hooded sweater, black sweatpants to match, and a pair of work boots, he entered, slowly, quietly, footfalls not making so much as a single sound. This was where it had all began. This was where Kihara Gunpei's foolish attempts at playing God had backfired on him. The trespasser had been there, he'd seen the thing, the creation rise up, and demand that his colleague disarm; he'd watched as the thing leapt to its Creator, and quietly asked if it made him "feel well". Keitz Nokleben certainly didn't feel well.
He'd seen the fear in the Creator's eyes, as he lied through his teeth. Mind returning to the present, the trespasser smirked.
The warehouse was dusty, disgusting, derelict. The floor beneath his feet was scuffed, dirtied, and was once white in coloration. Finding himself in a corridor, of some type, long, and straight, the ceiling was slanted, and supported by a series of metallic beams, from which the trespasser could see that cobwebs hung.
The trespasser continued on his way; cutting another chain, which fell to the tiled floor with a series of metallic rattles that made him jump; still, once his body recovered from the jolt of adrenaline that had been shot through its veins, satisfaction overtook him, as he struggled to pry the doors open with his crowbar. Having been locked together by rust, the metallic doors resisted, but eventually, after some considerable effort, they, like the doors that had come before them, broke beneath the trespasser's will.
It was the noises that garnered the trespasser's interest. Loud, and hellish, this warehouse turned torture chamber was filled with inhuman screams, shrieks, full of malice, and loud, guttural growls. The sounds of rattling metal interested the trespasser the most. In the hell house, there were what must've been hundreds of enormous, metal cages, each containing strange-looking things. Though the only source of light in this warehouse came from both sets of slightly opened doors, the trespasser narrowed his eyes, and, as his vision began to adjust to the relative, inky, blackness around him, the trespasser could see enormous, hulking shapes shuffling about in the cages. Some pounded on the bars of the cages, screaming incoherently, or cursing aloud.
The trespasser continued through this room, examining the dented, damaged walls. Armor, that Keitz Nokleben recognized as the "D-001 Diver" suits wielded by Deadlock commanders, hung from the ceiling, with chains wrapped around the armors neckpieces. Another "D-001 Diver" suit laid haphazardly on the ground, its helmet shattered and broken. Splattered with a brownish, reddish substance, and an unknown, sticky-looking orange substance, the walls had been vandalized, not only with liquids, but with messages, that looked to have been carved into them. Phrases, words, and nonsensical statements had been left behind.
"THE FLESH BABIES KNOW."
"KNOWLEDGE. KNOWING. TOO MUCH. I UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING. CONSTRUCTED PERFECT GODS, MAN'S FEAR OF DEATH MADE FLESH."
"DESTROY THE BIRD CAGE, FLY FREE"
"BARCELONA"
"row row row your boat gently down the stream merrily merrily life is but a dream"
"I HATE YOU DEADLOCK I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU : - )"
"54 x 576.9712 + 57 - 88.735412 = 42. i hate deadlock. i also hate math"
"i want to die. im nothing."
"cant die."
"trapped help."
"kill. control the world. fix the world. control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world control the world. fix the world"
"REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME REMEMBER ME : - ' ("
"Kets Knucklebone."
The trespasser spun around, distracted from his observations, crowbar at the ready. In a nearby cage, all by itself, was an enormous, misshape creature. The cage itself looked to have been made by combining two smaller cages, both of which had images of dancing, painted-up elephants on their surface, along with English characters that the trespasser knew to spell out "watch the African elephants stand tall, as they perform their wondrous stunts for your entertainment!" The creature within looked to stand at least over twenty feet tall; even in the cage that was, at the least, twenty feet tall, the creature was forced into a hunch.
Its head was too small for its body, especially its wide, round shoulders, and the almost comically muscular arms attached to them. It had eight fingers on either of its hands, and ten toes on either of its enormous, misshapen feet. Its eyes were small, while its nose was quite large, and stuck out, with a curled point at the end. From its head to its toes, it was covered in veins, and thick, thorn-like, bony growths that jutted out in all directions. Its dark purplish blue skin looked to have been stretched over its skeletal structure.
"Kets Knucklebone. Help Sloth? Sloth stuck in cage, no can move. Hurt bad!"
Keitz Nokleben grinned at the hideous miscreation, as it looked down at him, frowning. He said nothing, as he placed his backpack down. As Keitz began rooting inside of it, the creature that had identified itself as "Sloth" watched on. From his backpack, he produced a jerry can, capable of containing up to six gallons of liquid. He waved the large, red canister around, as the creature watched on.
"What doing with red thing, Kets Knucklebone?" The thing inquired.
"What needs to be done."
Unscrewing the lid from the jerry can, and then removing it, Keitz Nokleben scanned his surroundings, and began to dump the light brown, reeking liquid onto the filthy, dust-covered tile floors; "Sloth's" eyes widened, as realization descended onto its diminutive mind; it was gasoline. It stunk to the high heavens, but, as Keitz walked, creating a small trail behind him, he smelled only victory. From close to the entrance of this part of the warehouse turned torture chamber, this makeshift combat arena, all the way to its center, Keitz laid his trail of death, until the jerry can was emptied of the gasoline it had contained. The savage, wordless, ear-piercing shrieking and screaming that came from all around Keitz was nearly driving him mad, but, he shook his head, chuckling feverishly, as he backtracked to his vacant backpack.
"Why do this? No get," came the voice of "Sloth".
"Silence," Keitz commanded. Tossing the empty jerry can aside, Keitz produced a barbeque lighter from the front pocket of his sweater. Flicking the device's trigger, which caused a small, flickering flame to appear at its tip, and then disappear, he waved it in "Sloth's" direction.
"Burn? No! Hot! Too hot!" The creature wailed, as it began to thrash about inside of its cage. The metal bars shook, but held, as it began to loudly weep. Keitz cringed, and only hurried with his execution. Placing the lighter just above the puddle of gasoline, where his trail had started, his violently shaking finger pushed the lighter's trigger in.
When the flame made contact with the gasoline, it produced a volatile reaction. The gasoline exploded, creating a great, roaring fireball that came horrifically close to consuming Keitz Nokleben's mortal shell. He could barely tell what was unfolding around him – his nervous system revolted, as it was nearly subjected to pain beyond all pains. As Keitz Nokleben's clothing was nearly incinerated, the trail of gasoline that he'd placed was successfully ignited, as crackling raging flames were birthed. "Sloth" wailed in panic, as it began to thrash even harder within the confines of its cage. Still, the bars held.
Something had pulled him away, at the last second; he'd been lifted from the ground, and pulled some twenty feet, where he still hung in the air, limbs dangling.
"So! Keitz Nokleben! Quite the coincidence, that we'd encounter one another, here, eh? EH? Almost as if… fate, placed us here, together. Obviously, that's not the case, because fate is a big, stinking load of poop! I wonder, though, are we looking for the same person… er… thing? Why would you, Keitz Nokleben, be crawling around, starting fires in this place, of all the places that you could do such things? There's an orphanage, literally, right down the street! More appropriate; poetic, too."
Before Keitz Nokleben, much to "Sloth's" delight, stood a boy. Of an average build, he couldn't have stood taller than five foot five. The boy had a head of dark brown, almost black, pointy hair. Clad in a light blue hospital garb, consisting of a short-sleeved top, and a pair of hemmed pants. He wore little more than sandals, with socks to protect his feet. His right hand was placed within his pants pocket, while his left was held up, fingers open, nonchalantly. Semi-translucent arcs of some unknown energy danced between the fingers of the boy's left hand, and along its palm. His forehead appeared to be alight with the same arcs, which danced vertically from one end of the boy's forehead to the other.
Keitz Nokleben's mind barely comprehended the words that had been spoken, with him as the intended audience. He was far too shaken. Keitz physically shook, as he attempted to regain some level of composure.
He unceremoniously tumbled, as the boy's left hand ceased its glowing. Hitting the ground with a thud, Keitz Nokleben struggled to rise, and failed, falling back to his knees, as roaring, crackling flames were beginning to consume the warehouse turned torture chamber around him. The creature that identified itself as "Sloth" was screeching, and wailing, calling out for help.
The boy turned his attention to the cage, in which "Sloth" was contained. "God… so annoying. A minute? Just hold up? So loud. Too loud." With a flick of his left hand's wrist, the cage was lifted into the air, as "Sloth's" shrieking only grew louder, and more distressed. With another flick, the cage began to move, slowly, but surely, towards the roaring fire, which Keitz was struggling to crawl away from. "Sloth", and the cage within, was held mere inches above the blaze.
"Sloth need help! Too hot! Feel melt! HOT!" The creature exclaimed, as it thrashed, with all of its might inside of its cage. As Keitz Nokleben crawled, his head darted from side to side. One second, his vision was focused on the boy, whose lips had curled into a wide, toothy grin, his brow furrowed, eyes wide. The next, Keitz's vision was focused on the cage, and the "Sloth" creature within.
The cage was dropped into the fire, in the same moment that the boy's left hand ceased its glowing. "Sloth" howled in agony, its shrill cries dominated all other sounds. Keitz could hardly hear himself think, as he continued to crawl.
"Such bad luck! They're so loud! Like one of those television pitchmen! You ever see that one guy, with the dreadlocks? What was his name? David, something or other. Let's kill them all, Nokleben-san! For old times' sake! If pops was here, it'd be just like old times!" The boy shouted over the howling, and the screaming.
Keitz Nokleben managed to stand on his shaking legs. The adrenaline that was being pumped continuously into his body was beginning to slow up. Though his body was wracked by convulsions, Keitz could stand, at least.
"B… B-boy, what're you… doing here?! Are you… him? You are much changed," Keitz cryptically rambled, as he stumbled towards the pointy-haired boy.
Placing his left hand into the left pocket of his light blue, tight-fitting pants, the boy rolled his shoulders. Though flames were beginning to consume the entirety of the section of the warehouse in which they stood, the boy didn't seem to be perturbed. "Such bad luck… I pulled quite the daring escape to get here. Is pops around? Sure found plenty of signs that he was, at one point. Any idea what "Barcelona" means?"
Keitz Nokleben's eyes widened, and his eyebrows jolted upwards. This was impossible. This couldn't be happening. Keitz pinched himself, once, twice, and then slapped himself in the face. Either, he was in a deep, deep slumber, or the impossible had happened, somehow. "Pops…?"
"You feeling alright, old timer? Am I going to have to take you out behind the barn and show you the business end of a hunting rifle? Yeah, pops. You know, tall, metal body, teeth, glowing eyes, terrible personality, slight megalomaniacal tendencies, severe paranoia, you know, pops!" The boy exclaimed. Scooping Keitz up in his arms, the boy's left hand began to glow, arcs of unknown energy leaping across it, as the boy's feet left the ground. "Such bad luck, you're heavier than I remember? What're they feeding you in the retirement home?"
"R-retirement home? W-what are you even… doing here?" Keitz inquired, as he, held princess style in the pointy-haired boy's surprisingly strong arms, watched the world around him zoom by. Before long, he, and the pointy-haired boy were outside, beyond the walls of the warehouse turned torture chamber.
"It was a joke. Why am I here? Well, I remembered something important, and thought this was the place I'd find pops. He was always pretty sentimental, when, you know, he wasn't going on about controlling the world. I bet he still has that whistle, too. What a blockhead!" The boy responded. Setting Keitz down, the pointy-haired boy tilted his head to the side. "You know? I could ask you the same question, "Kets Knucklebone!"
Before the pointy-haired boy could continue his questioning of Keitz Nokleben, the latter suddenly turned from the former, and began to flee. The pointy-haired boy watched on, an eyebrow raised; he considered yanking Keitz back towards him, but waved a hand dismissively at the idea. Keitz would come to his senses, eventually.
September 23rd, 2014. 11:47 AM.
A young woman, in her mid-thirties, but still as elegant and proud as any young adult, walked with her canine companion. With dark hair that was styled in a long, fluffy ponytail, this woman was clad in a hoodless, long-sleeved, dark jacket. Beneath the unbuttoned jacket was a light-colored, long-sleeved blouse. A pair of tight-fitting dark leggings adorned her legs, which were accented by a pair of white, lightly scuffed stilettos, whose heels clacked against the ruined pavement following her footfalls. It wasn't a particularly odd sight to see, for those who would occasionally pass this woman by; dogs who behaved well enough not to require a leash were rare, but not an unseen phenomenon. This woman, with a confident, prideful bounce in her step, walked next to the loyal creature, not as his master, but as an equal.
Her companion was a golden retriever, almost ninety-one years of age; his golden coat looked to be soft, and fluffy to the touch. He wore no collar around his neck, as many a dog did. He, instead, wore a white, metallic apparatus, which was strapped to his back by a pair of leather straps, which clung to his underbelly. His fluffy ears drooped, and, as he walked with his human companion, his nose curiously sniffed the area, while his tail was wagging back and forth.
Behind the two, an abomination, some crime against nature laid, torn in half on the pavement, the jet black, shredded remnants of the creature's guts spewing out from the jagged, pulsating wound in its torso. With skin that looked to be horribly stretched over its bones, which was a shade of dark purple in coloration, the abomination was covered in twisting, thorn-like bony growths, its boil-covered, burnt-looking face was mangled, its lower jaw broken, hanging loosely from one side of its disproportionate face. Bloodshot eyes stared out at nothing, their pupils wide.
The crime against nature's broken limbs looked far too large, in comparison to its torso. Its arms, from which more growths protruded, were at least half as wide as the creature's own torso, its thick, clawed fingers twitched as a viscous, jet black liquid dripped from a singular, round wound in its forehead. Its legs looked to be too small for its body, though, as if to make up for this, the miscreation's lower extremities were nearly as thick as its upper extremities.
Turning a corner, human and canine left one broken street in school district one behind for another. Some twenty meters ahead of the two, was a mostly-vacant parking lot. In each of its four corners, a tall streetlight stood valiantly.
"GROWTH… it all comes circling back to a need for power, a desire to play with powers no human ever should. This is all fine and dandy, isn't it?" The young woman rhetorically asked; her facial expression, one of disgust, and apprehension suggested that "this" was anything but fine. "How many more are crawling about? This can't last. Where one tyrannical man-child fell, another rose in his place."
The canine prepared to speak its peace. Looking to its human companion, its maw parted, as its tongue and lips, in unison, began to form words. "Perhaps, it is as "he" intended it to be, in his passing. Not exactly so, but, perhaps, this was his rough estimate. A shame that he cannot answer questions."
"Wouldn't be entirely out of character. Always the gentleman, aren't you, sensei?"
"Civility is a slowly-dwindling commodity, Yuiitsu."
Their exchange came to a close, and silence descended once again over human and canine, for some minutes.
Footfalls. Quiet little pitter-patters. They came from on high. First, there were a few, then, there were more that followed, until a chorus of slapping sounds began to break the descended silence. The canine's superior senses picked the sounds up immediately, and his head suddenly snapped in the direction of the sounds. A crumbling, weatherworn radio tower stood nearby, neglected and decaying, its highest point bent, and rusted. Its eight levels, each of which had a rusted, decaying doorway that looked to lead into infinite darkness.
From one of her jacket's pockets, the stern-faced, young woman drew a tiny, concealed firearm, barely larger than the palm of her hand. Her right hand's index finger curled around its trigger, its long, black-painted fingernail scratching against the firearm's metallic surface. Disengaging the weapon's safety mechanism, she raised it, as she placed her left hand on the firearm.
The pitter-patters became thuds, as, from one of the darkened doorways of the vacant radio tower, more abominations poured out. Pushing, and shoving one another as they struggled to squeeze themselves through the eighth doorway, and out onto the rusted, metallic balcony beyond, they screamed, and howled together, forming a cacophony of gibberish and curse words. Due to their unending, merciless pushing, the very wall of the radio tower's eighth level gave way. They paid no mind, as rusted, twisted metal rained down upon their bodies. They knocked the metallic rain away with their arms, or with their jutting foreheads. One of the creatures leapt up, as far as it could, and, arms raised, it clung to, and then began to climb towards the highest point of the radio tower. The other creatures below it began to whoop, and holler, quite loudly, as their compatriot climbed.
"Excuse me, dearest; a moment," the canine stated. The top of the apparatus on his back split open, suddenly, either side of its top falling in opposite directions, like the vertical flaps of a cardboard box. From within, a compact piece of technology emerged; two small, metallic objects, which almost resembled the turbine engines of a plane, were attached to the top of a small, metallic box. On either of its sides, there were two small cannon-like weapons. Thin, white and yellow wires trailed from either of these weapons, and back into the box which they were attached to.
The turbine engine-like objects began to glow, as oxygen was taken in, mixed with a stockpile of fuel, which was stored within the apparatus, and, as the oxygen was combusted within, the canine achieved liftoff. If Yuiitsu hadn't seen this process dozens of times before, it would've almost looked humorous, even considering the horror emerging around them. The canine's four legs dangled, as the objects turned in place, directed by his head's movements.
Atop the radio tower, the abomination stood, its chest thrust outwards, as its wide, disproportionate arms were outstretched. Its jaw hideously flopped open, as it unleashed an ear-piercing, hellish scream.
"HAIL GUNPEI! SAVIOR!"
Its comrades beneath it jumped and whooped, as if to cheer the screaming thing on.
Each cannon-like weapon on either side of the apparatus' box began to glow with even greater intensity, before they expelled singular, controlled blasts of harvested solar energy in rapid succession. The abomination at the radio tower's peak was the first to fall victim. Struck with a series of solar blasts, the thing's scream became one of pain, as it stumbled, lost balance, and, with a shriek of surprise, fell. The airborne canine turned its weapons to the other abominations, who didn't seem too bothered by their compatriot's fall.
On the ground, Yuiitsu took aim, and, without hesitation, shot the fallen abomination directly in the center of its wide, jutting forehead. It began to convulse as the bullet passed through its thick skin, then through its skull, and, finally, the bullet was lodged inside of the abomination's head. With a shudder, it fell limp.
The airborne canine blasted away another screaming abomination, and then another, solar blasts tearing through their bodies like hot knives through butter. Black liquid dripped from their wounds, from their dismembered, twitching limbs, and from the torn bodies of all of the creatures who'd thrown themselves in the canine's path.
Yuiitsu spun on her heel; the sounds of flesh slapping against concrete was absorbed through her ears, and then comprehended by her mind. An abomination ran awkwardly, its oversized limbs shuddering on its body. Its broken lower jaw was slowly bending back into its 'natural' position, as if it were being pushed into place by some unseen force. Liquid continued to drip from the hole in its forehead, though, as it rapidly approached, Yuiitsu could see that the wound was noticeably smaller.
One bullet, and then another, found their respective ways into the awkwardly charging abomination's body; one struck its shoulder, while another entered the creature's lower torso, and tore through its body, emerging on the other side, as thick, purple flesh, stained with black liquid flew outwards from the exit point. The crime against nature stumbled, and groaned in agony, but didn't cease.
With a series of solar blasts from the airborne canine's weapons, the abomination howled in pain. Flesh and bone were charred; flesh melted, while bones became bone ash. The abomination's arms fell from its torso, as it stumbled, and then fell unceremoniously to the ground.
"Enough of this, Noukan; we'll be overrun, if we remain here any longer. They're… unkillable. Damn Gunpei!" Yuiitsu growled, as she continuously moved, aiming her firearm in one direction, and then in another. Kicking off her stilettos, as they were only getting in her way, she felt the rough, unforgiving asphalt beneath her. She felt it scratch at her flesh, as if it was a living thing, starved, trying desperately to feed itself.
Noukan blasted the remaining crimes against nature from the radio tower; each fell, and squealed, or shrieked, or screamed before they hit the ground, bones cracking, flesh tearing at the point of impact. Some of the abominations that Noukan had defeated were beginning to rise up; torn flesh was merging, reforming, while broken bones were snapping back into place.
"Accursed beasts," Noukan snapped. "There is very little we can do, presently. Our continued presence will merely rile Gunpei-kun's pets up, and encourage them to swarm further. These beasts are unknowing and mindless, little more than savage animals. Between "good", and "bad", they are outside the spectrum. They are wild."
Yuiitsu nodded, and, firing a bullet into the rising form of an abomination for good measure, she and Noukan fled towards the parking lot. "The perfect army, in theory, when you scribble it down on paper. Not so much when you put it into action."
"So, you have been paying attention!" Noukan praised, as he landed. His front paws, and then his rear paws touched the ground, as his apparatus pulled itself back together, and then closed itself shut. "If Gunpei-kun didn't lean so heavily towards brutish, forceful violence, he could be a great thinker of this world."
"Instead," Yuiitsu cut herself off, as she turned back to shoot the knees of an approaching, howling abomination. The beast fell flat on its face, as it began to try and drag itself towards the fleeing human, and her canine companion, "the son has become the father. He even created his own monster, to rebel against him. Aww."
Yuiitsu struggled with the keys to her vehicle, as her hands shook, adrenaline surging through her veins. Turning the key inside of her vehicle's lock, she flung the door open. Yuiitsu struggled with the passenger side door momentarily, before she succeeded in prying it open. Noukan nudged it all the way with his paw, and then leapt into the passenger seat. Noukan pulled the passenger side door closed with his tail, as Yuiitsu jammed her keys into the ignition, and, slamming a bare foot onto the accelerator, it roared to life. Black, toxic fumes were pumped from the vehicle's rear, as it struggled to keep up with Yuiitsu's demands.
The vehicle began to move as a group of the crimes against nature tossed their bodies against it. The vehicle's tires screeched, as the vehicle took off, leaving the screaming monstrosities behind. Newcomers, and some of those that had sufficiently recovered from the beat down(s) delivered onto them by Noukan, dropped to all fours, and gave chase, shrieking and yelling either incomprehensible, garbled words or canned cries of "HAIL GUNPEI! SAVIOR!" The crimes against nature frothed at their mouths, as they struggled to keep up with the vehicle.
Yuiitsu released the nearly emptied clip from her firearm, and, opening the glove department, she retrieved a full clip. Clicking it into place, Yuiitsu pocketed the firearm, and returned her eyes to the road; they widened, as the vehicle met an abomination that head leapt from on high, head-on. The screaming thing was torn apart, as the vehicle struck it at full speed, nearly a hundred miles per hour.
"Okay. Kumokawa… either, Kumokawa lied to our faces, or, even she doesn't know what happened," Yuiitsu commented, as she slammed the steering while to the right; the vehicle made a sharp right turn in response, and barely avoided the charred, rusted remnants of another, ill-fated vehicle.
"Kumokawa-san seemed to mean fairly well; I would not accuse of her plotting against us so quickly, Yuiitsu, darling," Noukan remarked. "The regenerative abilities of the bodies of those who have been affected by the GROWTH seem to have… quickened; perhaps, darling, this is a new "batch"? Between "good", and "bad", these are… bad. Wild, untamed, and very bad."
"That cocksucker's never done something like this before," Yuiitsu snapped. "If it even was him. Many options; too many."
"Language! Such language, even in times of tension, is unbecoming of a proper lady, such as yourself!" Noukan teased; even in the darkest of moments, Yuiitsu's old teacher at least attempted to bring humor to the proverbial table. Yuiitsu smiled, awkwardly.
"… of course. Forgive me, sensei."
Yuiitsu made a sharp left, and continued to drive straight, for some minutes. The crumbling structures of school district one passed them by, as Yuiitsu followed her mental map that would lead to the border between school districts one and seven, the latter of which was her destination. Atop a series of ruined skyscrapers, Yuiitsu spotted the broken, twisted remnants of a blimp; the woman could tell what the hunk of metal once was only through its oval shape, and the sparse patches of white, dirtied, weatherworn material that clung to it. As she passed the ruins by, a thought passed through Yuiitsu's mind.
"You're a madman, Gunpei. You made the decisions that've lead up to this point. Regardless of whose seed you sprouted from, you had a choice, and these are the choices you've made. You and I are a lot alike, but… where I've failed, you've succeeded… where I've learned… you are uneducated. Listen to yourself, you're talking like him. Damn that Imagine Breaker. He's broken me."
Kihara Yuiitsu ran the fingers of her left hand over her cheek; the same cheek that had been viciously punched by a certain spiky-haired boy, so many years ago. An action that had changed some things, but not all.
September 23rd, 2014. 11:45 PM.
From the back doors of a taxi, Kamijou Misaki emerged. Her husband, Kamijou Touma, followed suit, after quickly paying for their fare, and offering the nervous-looking driver of the vehicle a farewell. He was in quite the hurry to get as far away from the borders of an unsafe district as possible, in a reasonable amount of time. The yellow and white vehicle sped off, back towards the relative safety of school district seven.
Husband and wife locked their hands together, fingers intertwined, as they approached two waiting individuals. Leaning against the outer walls of a nearby restaurant, was the number one strongest esper in Academy City, the Accelerator. Clad in a beige, pullover hooded sweater, a pair of scruffy-looking dark jeans, and his signature cheap trainers, his long hair was pushed away from his face, exposing his forehead. Accelerator offered the married couple an unenthusiastic wave.
Nearby, sitting on a step, just below Accelerator, legs crossed, was Misaka Mikoto. Her chestnut brown hair was tied back, and, the Railgun wore a baggy, white and yellow shirt, which looked more like something that was part of a pajama set than a proper shirt. A pair of denim shorts that were rolled up to the middle of either of her respective thighs clothed her lower body.
Once Touma and Misaki had closed the distance between themselves and their close friends, they temporarily, but still reluctantly broke away from one another. "Oi, Accel, and Biribir- I mean, Misaka, thanks for meeting us out here. Means a lot to us both," Touma spoke softly. His eyes widened, as Accelerator closed the distance between them. Misaki offered a nod, and smiled, as best as she could, in her friends' direction.
"It truly does. For two lone individuals to walk through a "neutral" district, no matter the time of day, no matter how capable they might be, it would be… foolish," Misaki commented.
Then, the Accelerator took Kamijou Touma into an embrace, a weak-looking, spindly arm wrapping itself around Touma's shoulder. In his available hand, he took Touma's left, and gave it a firm shake.
"This shit's all fucked up, hero. Sorry you and the fifth ranked had to get dragged into this."
Touma tried to keep his right hand as far away from Accelerator as possible. "Not your fault, Accel."
Mikoto shook her head, and placed a hand on Misaki's shoulder. "Let's just… get this over with, Kamijou-san."
Kamijou Misaki placed her hand on Mikoto's own, and smiled thinly at her, starry eyes looking into Mikoto's brown irises. "Yes. Let us discover what, "the Director", would like for us to do. It is just like the olden days, is it not? I suppose, some people have not moved on from those times. Though the present is dark, I would like to say, before we go anywhere, Misaka-san… congratulations. May you and Shirai-san find happiness together. I am so… proud. I will support your love to the full extent that I am able."
Mikoto sniffed, as she took Misaki into an embrace, just as Touma and Accelerator broke their own. The Railgun's arms went around Mental Out's waist, as Mental Out comfortingly held the Railgun. Mikoto rested her forehead against the shoulder of the woman who, as a girl, she had once barely been able to tolerate, the woman who she found herself loving, as a dear, close friend, in the present. "T-thank you, Kamijou-san. Thank you so much. I hope, someday, Kuroko and I, and you and Touma can just… have fun together. Go out for dinner, out for a movie, maybe. We could… heh. We could go for a swim. Just like when we were younger."
Misaki ran her fingers through Mikoto's hair, softly, and gently, as she held her dear friend close. "You are welcome; that is what I am fighting for. For my husband, and our life together, for you, and Shirai-san, and all of those I hold dear, Misaka-san."
Accelerator spat, as he began to walk. "Don't want to be fucking late to the party. I wonder who's actually going to show up? Maybe we'll get to see Meltdowner."
As Kamijou Misaki and Misaka Mikoto broke away from one another, Mikoto turned to face Accelerator, and Kamijou Touma. "I hope not."
Misaki returned to her husband's side, their hands joining one another once again, as she smiled up at him. Touma looked down, into his wife's big, beautiful, starry eyes, and he managed a smile. "You're so beautiful. You're everything to me."
Kamijou Misaki brought Kamijou Touma's hand to her lips, and softly kissed the top of it, before she returned her eyes to the road before her. "And you are handsome. My everything, my sunshine."
Before the quartet was a large gateway; its metallic, heavy-looking slabs, that served as doors, were tall, and closed tightly shut. On either side of the gateway was a rather large-looking tollbooth-like structure. Two huts, built from dirtied, weatherworn plastic and bulletproof glass, their interiors were devoid of any personnel. Dirtied desks, on which old, smashed computers sat, along with their keyboards and mice, sat, abandoned, in the corner of either hut, along with a torn, dirtied office chair, that sat in front of either desk.
Inside one of the huts, a clown statue, that looked like it had been taken from one of the amusement parks in school district six, or perhaps from school district fifteen, was sat in the office chair, big, wide blue eyes staring at nothing, left, gloved hand raised, waving to no one. There was a message that appeared to have been spray-painted onto its face.
"RIP INNOCENCE U WILL BE MISSD.
– Killergwte."
Clad in a blue outfit, with red overalls, the clown statue sent chills down Touma's spine, as he looked away from it. The message wasn't helping him feel any better, either.
"Nobody home," Touma commented, as he craned his neck in the direction of one of the huts. "Except that goddamn clown."
"Fucking kids," Accelerator commented, with an unconcerned shrug. "At least someone's having fun."
Accelerator flicked his choker on, and then touched one of the slabs that served as the gateway's doors with the tip of his finger. Upon making contact, the slab was forced from its hinges, as Accelerator manipulated it, his mind, aided by the Misaka Network, performing a series of calculations that only he, and the Network's denizens truly understood. The slab was sent flying through the air, like a toy that had been tossed away by an overexcited child.
"Well, that's one way to deal with that problem…" Touma remarked, as Accelerator walked through the entrance he'd created.
"What were you going to do, hero? Wait for the fucking clown to open it for us?" Accelerator mockingly inquired.
"Don't even joke about it, Accel, the last thing anyone needs is evil clowns," Touma spoke. "We've got a crazy, self-aware robot in Anti Skill custody, I think that's enough."
"Actually, Touma, it's out. According to Shirai-san, it's taken over the Reformatory, in district ten," Mikoto remarked, as she passed through Accelerator's custom-made entrance. "Apparently, according to Kuroko, it's "with us", now."
Touma took a deep breath, gathering his wits, and, ever so slightly, tightening his grip on his wife's hand. She looked up to him, and smiled weakly, as if to say, "it's okay". "Great," Touma mumbled. "I mean, I appreciate you trying to keep us in the loop, Misaka, it's not you I'm pissed with. I just don't like the fucking thing."
As the married couple crossed into school district one, Mikoto slowed her step, so that she could stand behind her friends. With Accelerator in the lead, the Kamijous were sandwiched between two of the most powerful espers in Academy City.
"That makes two of us," Mikoto began. She trusted Accelerator to lead her, and the married couple to the "established rendezvous point". "I don't like it either, and I don't like how much trust Kuroko's putting in it. I don't even know what it's capable of, or what it's really planning. I know it's planning something. It talks like it's a… some sort of dictator. Touma," Mikoto's eyes locked with one of her oldest friend's own eyes. "I attacked it with almost a million volts of electricity. I disabled it, yeah, but it… I guess it rebooted, or something. It should've been finished, a smoking hunk of metal."
Touma tilted his head, slightly. "You… you fought it? I know you said that the situation was cleared up, but… I'm glad you're okay, Misaka, and I'm glad your girlfriend is okay. That thing's horrible. Ugliest thing I've ever seen… and I've seen some ugly things, like Accel waking up in the morning, fucking hammered, stumbling around, looking for the bathroom." Mikoto found herself blushing. Hearing Kuroko being referred to as 'her' girlfriend, hers, something, someone that belonged to her, brought heat rushing to her face. Misaka Mikoto looked ahead, determined.
"Very fucking funny, goddamn hero," Accelerator commented; there was noticeable mirth in his voice, even if it was faint. Mikoto weakly smiled, as did Misaki, who nuzzled her husband, starry eyes darting back and forth. At any moment, she was ready to take a life, to steal, to tell the darkest of lies for her husband, as instinctual protectiveness tried to overtake her. Keeping it in check, Kamijou Misaki quickly gained control over it, and harnessed it.
For some minutes, the quartet walked through the desolate streets of school district one. Once, a small, travelling group of what appeared to be bounty hunters, considering their gruff, unkempt appearances, and their advanced, pre-Fall weaponry, greeted them, and asked if they had any leads on a certain target, a "Stephanie Gorgeouspalace", to which Accelerator informed them that he and his companions had none, as the married couple looked to one another, concerned. With the bounty hunters' blessings, the quartet continued, for a while, without any further incidents, until Accelerator stopped, as OFFICER Network units flew above their heads, likely heading off to combat some distant threat, or, quite possibly, just to bully Anti Skill.
Before the quartet a structure loomed, leaning slightly towards one side, with its windows shattered. Its roof was crumbling, as evidenced by small piles of dislodged rubble, made up of metal beams and hunks of broken concrete. If the three level fives, and, subsequently, Kamijou Touma, who was married to the fifth strongest, didn't know any better, this dilapidated building wouldn't have looked to be any different from the rest. To Touma, it almost resembled a dorm, in its appearance, but, given that school district one had always been designed for Academy City's faculty, this conclusion didn't make a lot of sense.
"I'll, uh, I'll get the door…" Mikoto said sheepishly. Accelerator clicked his tongue in annoyance, and folded his arms. Mikoto pulled on the frame that, at one point or another, likely held a pane of glass. She lightly tugged on it, and, with a 'crack', the door fell over her – Mikoto had started, and almost prepared herself to jump out of the way. If she'd done so, she would've been hit on the head by the door's frame. Instead of ending up with a sore head, and possibly having to take a trip to a certain doctor's hospital, the frame fell over her, as she stood still; it swiftly hit the ground with a thud.
"Is everything outside of the safe districts like this? Ruined, and completely, just, wasted?" Touma rhetorically inquired; he didn't expect to get an answer.
"Pretty much, hero," Accelerator remarked. "Well? Hero? Fifth ranked? Third ranked? Let's get this goddamn dogshit out of the way. I've got things to do."
Mikoto nodded, as she awkwardly stepped out from the door that had nearly crashed against her head, as Touma and Misaki followed Accelerator into the crumbling structure. Mikoto took her place at the rear of the group.
At the sight before them, each member of the quartet had a different reaction. Accelerator raised an eyebrow, and grunted in annoyance. Misaka Mikoto had started, and, from the pocket of her shorts, she'd produced a metallic object, ready to hurl her signature move, her ace in the hole at anything that looked vaguely threatening. Touma's eyes widened, as he and his wife immediately became even more prepared to defend one another. Misaki had gasped, before she forcibly regained her composure. Her eyelids narrowed, and Misaki clenched her fists, the muscled arms beneath the sleeves of her jacket tightening as she did so.
Spread out before them, were the torn, bloodied remains of those who had been affected by GROWTH. The concrete floors of the structure were covered in the viscous, black liquid that leaked from their dismembered forms. The only part of the floors that had been, at the very least, cleared of dark purple, fleshy debris was a large, circular hole. OFFICER Network drones were repeatedly blasting the destroyed carcasses with their lasers, while powered suits were dragging long, thick, malformed arms, torsos and legs away. Robotic police officers stomped on the severed heads of the GROWTH victims, working them into pulp.
"Kaizumi-san is waiting for you," a vaguely male-sounding voice produced by a passing powered suit spoke. "There's nothing to see, here."
"Oh, on the fucking contrary, asshole," Accelerator snapped. "Makes me wonder what shit this fucking cesspit's gotten itself into, this time."
Turning away from the powered suit, which continued on its way, dragging two legless monstrosities behind it, Accelerator entered the hole, the bottoms of his cheap trainers clacking against the first few steps of a staircase, before he turned, and waved the trio of stragglers in his direction. Kamijou Misaki looked up to Kamijou Touma, who had taken her right hand back into his left, and offered him a nod, as her facial expression softened. Mikoto, with a shrug, followed the "top dog", who'd already descended. The Kamijous weren't too far behind.
Mere moments after Kamijou Touma and Kamijou Misaki's descent into the circular entrance, a sharp, sudden, screeching sound was produced. A circular plate had closed over the entrance, causing the entirety of the world around the quartet to fall into inky blackness. Mikoto quickly compensated by creating a series of electrical currents around her form. Like little blue ribbons of electricity, they danced around her head, down her shoulders, and all the way to the tips of her fingers, and then back to the top of her head again.
"Pretty sure that the lights are supposed to be back on by now," Touma remarked, as he continued to keep his eyes on the steps beneath him.
If it wasn't for his wife pulling him back, suddenly, and with the force required to halt his gargantuan form mid-stride, Touma would've walked head-first into glass. Accelerator chuckled, before he stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hooded jacket. Mikoto shot the "top dog" a look, but said nothing in response.
In front of the quartet, was a ten-meter-wide, and no one, perhaps, except, Accelerator, if he cared enough to measure it, knew how long translucent, glass, tube-like structure. In a flash that caused the quartet's eyes to be forced closed, momentarily, with, again, the exception of Accelerator, who merely reflected the light away from him, the stairwell was awash in golden, synthetic light.
Kamijou Touma wasn't particularly familiar with this place; he'd only been here, within this mess of metallic catacombs less than five times. Examining his surroundings, Touma's eyes first fell upon the walls, which, seemingly, unlike everything else in Academy City, weren't falling apart. Everything was spotless. Not a single speck of dirt to be seen. Tangled wires snaked along the sterile, white walls. The sloped ceiling above him was white, and, covered from one end, to the other, with rectangular light fixtures that were built into the ceiling. Touma swallowed, hard. Everything in Academy City was so sterile, so devoid of life. So synthetic.
He turned to face his wife, who had leaned her head against his shoulder. In contrast to the sterile, white Hell around him, Kamijou Misaki was a bringer of life, a beacon of hope, and, as she always was, and always would be, a light in the darkness. He kissed the top of her head, just as, from below, a large platform arose within the translucent tube-like structure. Part of the structure slid away, creating an entrance for the quartet to walk into. Accelerator was the first to do so, followed by Mikoto. Kamijou Misaki, and Kamijou Touma followed not long after.
The glass panel slid closed, as the platform began to slowly descend. As it did so, Touma was greeted by more wire-covered walls. Tangled, dangling wires, on all sides, closing in on him. Touma felt as if he was descending into the belly of some disgusting, mechanical beast. An image of Devastator's mangled form appeared in his mind, as the previous thought passed him by. Touma felt like vomiting.
"Baby? How are you feeling? Is everything okay? If you need to talk, these "people" can wait," Misaki spoke. Touma wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders, and held her close. Once her body made contact with his own, the crushing dread was pushed away. Standing up on her toes, Misaki gently kissed her husband's lips.
"I'll… I'll make it, beautiful. Looking around at all these wires, the white walls, everything's so white, and so clean down here. It feels like we're inside some… some sort of mechanical planet, some hollow, machine-world. I don't even know what I'm rambling about," Touma replied. "I'm good, though. Good as I can be down here. As long as I have you, I'll be good."
"You do not have to know, my love. Talk, if you feel the need to talk, and I will listen. We all will," Misaki said, offering her husband a small, weak smile. As her starry eyes looked into her husband's, Kamijou Misaki could see into him, and through him. He was angry, he was pained, he wasn't quite broken, but Kamijou Touma, her doting prince was fractured. Misaki wanted to bury her face in her husband's chest, and cry for him, and with him, but, Misaki stayed strong.
As Misaka Mikoto and Accelerator watched on, silent, Kamijou Misaki took Kamijou Touma's face into the palms of her hands, and she simply looked at him, for some time, as Touma gently placed his hands on her wrists.
Mikoto found herself smiling, as she fought back tears. The sight moved the Railgun. She felt her heart begin to beat faster, eyes looking to the slowly descending platform beneath her trainers. She looked to Accelerator, who awkwardly grinned. Producing his phone from one of the pockets of his jeans, he unlocked the device, and peered down at the screen.
Behind his home screen's wall of apps, was his phone's wallpaper; an image of him, awkwardly smiling into the camera, as the little form of Last Order sat on his back. Beneath his right arm, Worst and Yoshikawa Kikyou had squeezed themselves, while, beneath his left, Yomikawa Aiho smiled brightly, eyes closed, as she held a thumb up. The "top dog" grunted, as he ran his thumb over the screen.
"I'm doing this stupid shit for you. Stupid fucking… family."
The platform had come to rest; the glass panel slid away, revealing the means in which the quartet would leave the tube-like structure. Misaka Mikoto stepped out first, followed by Accelerator, who had to pocket his phone. Touma and Misaki stepped out last,
Misaki took her husband's left hand in her own right, as they walked. "I am with you. I will sit right next to you, and I will support you, as best as I can, throughout this grim ordeal… whatever might be ahead. I will never leave your side, Kamijou Touma."
"Misaki… fuck, I need you so much. I adore you, I'll never leave your side, either, beautiful, never, I'd never even think about it, or dream about it. That would be a nightmare, not a dream. Whatever's in store for me, I want it to be for us, I want everything I do to be with you. I don't want there to be an "I", I want there to be just an… an "us," Touma spoke, softly. Though he felt his throat begin to tighten, he shook his head, slightly, and cleared his throat.
The walls of this corridor weren't covered in wires, at least. White, and appallingly sterile, perhaps, but not so overtly dystopian. Kamijou Misaki wanted to see just about any other color, other than white, or gold, which was produced by the rectangular light fixtures that sat within the ceiling. Misaki was beginning to regret wearing the outfit that she wore.
Exiting the corridor, the married couple found themselves in a great chamber, whose ceiling, by Accelerator's calculations, was at least fifty meters away from the floor. The walls, the flat ceilings, the floors, all bright, pristine white; so white, in fact, that the quartet could see their reflections on the floors beneath them, and on the walls on either side of them.
There was another set of stairs, that lead down from the wide, spacious area that the quartet found themselves on, and down into a lower area. Peering over a metallic, silver railing, the color of which brought both of the Kamijous great joy, the quartet saw a familiar, round desk, with nine, throne-like seats set around it, four of which were occupied. On the farthest end of the chamber, was a large, pulsing machine. To Touma's frustration, there were more wires, so many dangling, snaking wires, hanging from the enormous, metallic cylinder, that trailed all the way up to the ceiling. The machine moved, in and out, as if it was breathing.
"This place is fucking boring. Would it kill these people to paint fucking anything? Apparently, it would. These people fucking threaten us, threaten you, goddamn, stupid hero, fifth ranked… third ranked… and they don't even have the decency to roll out the fucking red carpet?" Accelerator rumbled, as he moved to flick his choker.
"Accel, man… relax," Touma suggested.
Though he clicked his tongue in annoyance, and narrowed his eyes, Accelerator let his hand fall back to his side. With a grunt, he, followed by the trio of Misaki, Touma, and Mikoto, descended the steps.
The staircase, seemingly, like everything else in the sterile, mechanical catacombs, was white, spotless, and was slightly slippery, as if each step had recently been washed down. Kamijou Misaki kept her eyes on the staircase below her, though, in her peripheral vision, she could see her husband's head moving about, as he continued to examine their surroundings. Misaki could see the wires, too. There were far too many.
Having reached their destination, the quartet was greeted by Kaizumi Tsugutoshi, who, sitting at one of the throne-like chairs that sat around the desk, looked up from a collection of papers, as well as a small laptop, and waved politely in their direction.
"Warmest greetings, Kamijou Misaki, Kamijou Touma, Misaka Mikoto, and, of course, the Accelerator. I will be with you momentarily; your early arrival, as well as the early arrivals of your dear compatriots, have put me in a bit of a difficult position. Feel free to talk, quietly, while I prepare some items that will be necessary for our meeting."
Seated in other available chairs were a trio; firstly, there was a white, vaguely cartoonish-looking beetle, with large, cute-looking compound eyes, and a long, but dull, and harmless-looking horn, a creation of the second strongest esper in Academy City, Kakine Teitoku. Across from the beetle, was Sogiita Gunha, the seventh strongest esper in Academy City, and, grinning in Misaki and Touma's direction, a blue-haired, blue-bearded young man sat. His name was Aihana Etsu; he was the sixth strongest esper in Academy City.
His eyes were closed, yet, he could apparently see, given that he was looking in the precise direction of the Kamijous. One eye was dark purple, and swollen, its eyelids closed tighter than the other. Touma swallowed, hard. It was quite the shiner; he hadn't seen one that bad in a long time. His hair was short, his bangs spiked upwards. Clad in a buttoned-up, brown and white checkered shirt, and a pair of tight-fitting, white dress pants, held against his figure with a brown belt, made up of what appeared to be soft fabric, rather than leather. To accent this outfit, he wore a pair of light brown dress shoes.
"I wasn't expecting you, Mrs. Kami-yan! I was expecting Mr. Kami-yan even less! What a pleasant surprise!" The number six proclaimed. Touma's eyes immediately fell to the silver and golden band that sat on his ring finger; they widened.
"A-Aogami?" Touma stuttered, awkwardly, as Accelerator unenthusiastically plopped himself down into the closest chair. "Are you…"
"Engaged, Kami-yan!" Etsu proudly proclaimed. Touma's lips parted. Then, his jaw dropped, as Etsu began to laugh heartily, despite the obvious tension in the room. "You should've seen Seiri's face, Kami-yan! It was GREAT! The sex was even better! That glorious bosom, so big, so sweaty. So…"
Touma shook his head, swiftly, from side to side, as if to clear it of some invisible, excess gunk that was clogging it. "Aogami! Hold it right there! I'm a married man! I don't want to hear about that! Well, shit, dude. Had, uh, no idea. Congratulations! Am I going to have to call her Aogami-sensei, now?"
"Aihana-sensei, baby," Misaki reminded, with a small giggle.
"Oh. Yeah, that's right. Okay, this is going to take some getting used to. Aihana Etsu and Aihana Seiri? Sounds… really good, actually. Not calling you, by, you know, "Aogami" is going to be a hard habit to break," Touma confessed, as he awkwardly rubbed his neck with his available hand.
It was as if, meeting with Aihana Etsu again, despite the disgustingly synthetic feel of this place, was bringing a sense of normalcy back to Kamijou Touma. His wife seemed to be experiencing the same effect; her lips had curled into a small smile.
"Aihana-san, if you do not mind my asking, what happened to your eye?" Misaki inquired. She sat herself down next to her husband, two seats away from Accelerator. Misaki sat next to Kakine Teitoku's beetle, who she smiled at, and proceeded to gently pat with her bare hand, as the adorable creature produced soft, friendly vocalizations. Touma took his wife's available hand he took back into his own. Holding it as tightly as he could without causing Misaki any discomfort, he watched as Mikoto sat herself down, closer to Touma than to Accelerator, who simply grunted in response.
"He got too gutsy," Sogiita Gunha spoke. As Touma, Misaki, and Mikoto, all at once, noticed the outfit he wore, their collective eyes widened, slightly. Kakine Teitoku's beetle turned its head to face Gunha, as if it was doing what was appropriate. Its big, harmless-looking, dull jaws clacked together excitedly.
Gunha's hair was dyed red, and was spiked. A bright red shirt adorned her chest, red, and white striped shorts, which were made of a soft-looking fabric adorned his legs. Sogiita Gunha also wore a pair of high top, red basketball shoes, with a rising sun logo on either shoe. This outfit, in and of itself, would have been completely normal; it was the long, red cape that he wore that caught the quartet's attention. Accelerator either hadn't noticed it, couldn't be bothered to look, or didn't care.
Etsu folded his arms, and chuckled. "Chill, Kami-yan. You can be married and have eyes for other women! As long as you don't touch them, you're fine! Eheheheh. Long story, Mrs. Kami-yan. Tsuchimikado dared me. I'll save you the explanation, and just say that the stripper pole I bought is going to waste… infinite sadness! That wasn't what did it; I tried to, uh, get a little bit of that Forehead Deluxe, after Seiri shot down the pole idea… it didn't work out. I've been sleeping on the couch for the last three days! I'm so frustrated! Thought getting out of the house would do us both some good."
Accelerator clicked his tongue. "Fucking idiot. It's your goddamn fault for being a fucking pervert."
Kakine Teitoku's beetle looked up to Misaki, and tilted its head.
"Hello, little one. How are you? How is Kakine-san?" Misaki asked. The little creation rose up from its sitting position, round legs clacking against its chair as it began to move. Crawling into Kamijou Misaki's lap, it set itself back down, folding its legs beneath it.
"Beetle zero-six is doing well, auntie! Daddy sent me here to gather information for him, while he and beetle zero-seven are out helping people! Yay, information-gathering!" The beetle answered. Touma reached his left hand over to the little creation, and stroked its head; it began to make a sound that was oddly similar to a cat's purring.
"Yeah, okay, Aogam… Aihana. Know what? You'll always be Aogami to me… oh, man, beetle zero-six, it's… it's actually really cute," Touma said softly, as he showed affection towards the little creature. From Misaki's lap, it rose up, and made its way to Touma's. Setting itself down, it turned its head to face Touma, and clacked its jaws happily, as its compound eyes looked into Touma's dark eyes.
"Uncle is kind! Kind like daddy!" The beetle chirped. "Maybe uncle will be kind, and give beetle zero-six and zero-seven more friends? Yay, friends! Auntie and uncle love each other! More friends!"
Kamijou Touma frowned, as Misaki quickly took his left hand in her own hands. Kamijou Misaki placed it in her lap, and, uncurling her husband's left hand's fingers, she placed her own finger to his palm. She began to trace small, gentle circles on its surface, as she looked to her lap, and to her husband's hand.
The beetle, an innocent, naïve little creation, was none the wiser, as Mikoto, who had thus far been unusually quiet, placed a hand on Touma's shoulder. Turning to the Railgun, Touma offered her a grin. It was pained, and weak, but it was a grin.
"Hero?" Accelerator inquired. He tilted his head in Touma's direction.
"Yo, Kami-yan, you feeling alright?" Etsu inquired. He knew the answer. Etsu was no fool; "Aogami Pierce" was a fool, but Etsu wasn't.
"Kami-yan is anything but alright. Fuck this City."
Sogiita Gunha had casted his gaze outwards, towards the dutifully-working Tsugutoshi. The elderly man's fingers clacked quickly against the keys of his small laptop, eyes darting from side to side, as he occasionally ran his tongue over his lower lip.
"Guys, it's cool. I'm good. Why wouldn't I be good? Beetle zero-six just asked me a question, is all. No big deal right? Sorry, buddy. Uncle got distracted," Touma spoke. Beetle zero-six clacked its jaws excitedly at Touma. "Maybe someday. Maybe someday, you and beetle zero-seven will have… new… friends." Touma gulped, before he forced himself into a state of faux-excitement. "There's a lot of important, grown-up stuff that goes into making new friends! So, be patient, buddy! Auntie and uncle have a lot of work to do, before they can start thinking about making friends for you, right, Auntie Misaki?"
Touma turned to face his wife, who continued to run her fingers over the palm of her husband's left hand. She looked up to him, and offered him a weak smile. With her starry eyes growing moist, she kissed her beloved on the cheek. He suffered. Kamijou Misaki could see it in his eyes, the pain that she'd seen before was amplified, Misaki could feel it radiating from her husband's form. Kamijou Touma was anguished.
Apparently, his wife wasn't the only one who'd picked up on the aura which Touma was producing. Tsugutoshi gently closed his laptop, folded his hands, and placed them on the round desk.
"Ahem. I've received word, informing me that we are to begin our meeting earlier than expected. You have my appreciation, and the appreciation of the Director," Tsugutoshi began. "You also have my apologies. The mess upstairs was the result of an… unfortunate encounter, between Academy City forces, and the forces of a rogue party; a party who is the subject of this meeting."
"Get to the fucking point," Accelerator demanded. Leaning forward in his throne, the number one strongest esper raised an eyebrow in Tsugutoshi's direction.
Aihana Etsu cupped his chin in his fingers, and leaned back. "Gotta say, I'm with Accel-chan, here," the number six spoke, before his brow furrowed. "Let's speed this up."
Mikoto, Gunha, Misaki and Touma exchanged awkward looks with one another. Though Tsugutoshi's facial expression remained as one of passiveness, it was clear to see that a vein had begun to throb in his upper forehead. With a deep breath, he continued.
"Very well," Tsugutoshi began anew. "Some of you who are present this afternoon, may or may not know of the body enhancement drug known as "GROWTH".
Kamijou Misaki's lips curled into a frown, knowingly. She, her husband, and Misaka Mikoto each shared similar, concerned looks. Misaki leaned her head against her husband's shoulder, lazily. She was suddenly feeling quite drained. Misaki just wanted to slumber, with her husband close by, preferably in her arms.
"It began circulating some years before the… previous Director's… time in office came to a close. With many thanks to our City's intelligence-gathering agents, I will present to you the truth of GROWTH, the truth of one of the greatest threats Academy City faces… be warned, some of these images are… quite graphic."
Tsugutoshi fiddled with one of the sheets of paper spread out before him, and fingers placed in the center of the sheet, he moved it towards the center of the round desk.
Kamijou Misaki leaned forward, to get a better view; she found herself wishing that she hadn't. The existence, or what Misaki assumed was an existence, of some type, displayed in the black and white photograph was horrifying for her to look upon. It appeared to be little more than a mound of messy, pink and dark purple flesh.
Bones of various shapes and sizes protruded from the putrid-looking mound. In the lower center, were a pair of wide, bloodshot eyes. Disproportionate limbs hung limp from the mound; two arms, three legs, and what appeared to be an elongated phallus. Attached to the arms, and legs, were large, boil-covered hands and feet. The photograph appeared to have been taken in a laboratory setting; the wallpaper behind the mound was grey, and sterile, just as everything else in Academy City seemed to be.
"Baby, don't look. Misaka-san… I wouldn't recommend looking, either," Misaki spoke, as she awkwardly pushed the sheet of paper away from her. Touma, taking his wife's advice, didn't look directly down at the sheet, and moved it away from him as quickly as he could.
Beetle zero-six climbed up to the table's surface, and quickly began to examine the photograph on the sheet of paper. "Oh no! Tell daddy!" It exclaimed, before it crawled back to its chair, and seemed to go into a state of dormancy, as it set itself down, folding its round legs beneath its body. Its compound eyes began to blink, on and off, at a consistent rate of a blink every second.
"If we're going to be involving ourselves in this mess, or, if we're being forced to involve ourselves," Mikoto shot Tsugutoshi a hateful glare, "I'd rather know ahead of time what I'm going to be fighting against. Thanks, though, Kamijou-san, for the heads-up."
Mikoto looked down at the sheet of paper, and her eyes widened. She placed a hand to her forehead, and, leaning her elbow against the round desk's surface, she pushed the sheet away with her available left hand. "Wish I hadn't looked."
Accelerator snatched the paper, and pulled it in his direction. He raised an eyebrow, and then clicked his tongue. "What the fuck is this? These things can fight? What the fuck would it do, roll itself at me? Good fucking luck."
The number one ranked esper passed the sheet off to Aihana Etsu, who held it up to the light. With his eyes still closed, he held the sheet of paper away from him, and appeared to be studying it. "Gotta say, I'm with Accel-chan on this. It looks like some dude's nuts with a bad STD, or something. Can't see how it can hurt anyone."
Etsu passed the sheet of paper to Gunha, who looked it up and down, and then uncharacteristically frowned, as he pushed the paper back towards Tsugutoshi. Wordlessly, he sat upright in his chair, arms crossed on the desk's surface.
The elderly man collected the sheet, and exchanged it for another, nearby sheet, with a photograph that was larger in size than the first on it.
"It is, or, at this point, likely was what the Director, and my betters believe to be a failure. Subsequent images depict something of an evolution from this specimen; for the sake of time, and for convenience, I will summarize.
"Obtained specimens, from this point forward, began to appear more and more humanlike, and less like… lumps. The second most recent specimen that intelligence agents have discovered, are, in fact, very similar to those involved in the carnage you unfortunately witnessed above, with minor aesthetic differences in the newest specimens, that we've only just discovered this morning."
Touma felt his heart jump into his throat. His skin was becoming oddly cold, as the right side of his chest began to pound, faster and faster. "Those things… torn up. People? People. Didn't save them. Too late. Always too late."
Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun, chose to speak up. Quietly clearing her throat, she leaned forward in her seat. "So, GROWTH is a body-altering drug? Aside from making the people who are either forced to ingest it, or are injected with it… mutate, do you know what the purpose of this GROWTH is? Is it just an attempt at forcing mutations?"
"Regeneration; those affected by GROWTH, according to various studies, and further experimentation based on the, results, of the aforementioned studies, lose their higher mind, their human self-knowing. They become animalistic in nature. Those who retain any knowledge of proper speech seem to exist in a perpetual state of agitation, cursing, and uttering threats to anyone around them. With their seemingly unrestrained regenerative abilities, those affected by GROWTH become... something beyond human," Tsugutoshi spoke grimly.
Sogiita Gunha rose up from his seat, and threw his fist into the air. Accelerator rolled his eyes, as he prepared himself for the worst.
"Who's making this… this GROWTH?! They lack GUTS! I'll personally show them the power of GUTS, and what happens when those who have guts deliver justice upon those who don't!"
Aihana Etsu began to clap, as he flashed Sogiita Gunha an approving grin. "Atta boy! You tell 'em, Guts Man!"
Accelerator groaned, as he massaged his temples with his index finger and thumb. "Fuck. Just shut the fuck up. You're so goddamn annoying, both you and the fucking pervert. If I could spend a week in fucking isolation with the third ranked, to never have to see either of you asshats again, I would gladly fucking do so."
Touma turned to Accelerator, and raised an eyebrow. "Accel, come on. I'm pissed off, too, but we can't start turning on each other. Besides, I think… I think you're going to have outlets for your frustration soon enough."
Looking to Accelerator, Misaki smiled weakly at him. "Accelerator, it is okay to get angry, but, to lash out at those around you is not the answer."
Surprisingly, to all of those involved, Accelerator nodded weakly, as he looked to his lap. His crimson eyes stared, focused on the floor beneath him. "Yeah. I know. I'm fucking sorry, okay, sixth ranked? Seventh ranked? I lost my temper. I was wrong."
Etsu shrugged, and winked at the "top dog" of Academy City. "Chillax! It's cool, Accel-chan! It happens! When this is all over, I'll take you out to the Gloryhole, and we'll…"
"FUCK OFF!"
Etsu chuckled to himself, as Gunha sat himself back in his seat, and extended a fist towards Accelerator, as if to ask for Accelerator to bump his own fist against his. "No worries! Your guts will see you through, I'm sure of it! Your guts rival even my own!"
Misaki leaned towards her husband, and whispered into his ear. After a few seconds of her whispering, she moved away from him, but not before kissing him softly on the cheek. Touma moved towards Mikoto, and leaned in. Mikoto moved her ear towards Touma's mouth, as he approached.
"Misaka? You feeling okay? You've been pretty quiet. Anything you want to talk to us, or one of us about, when we get out of here, we'll listen."
Misaka Mikoto smirked. It was small, weak, and died soon after it was born, her lips curling back into a neutral frown, but, it was something. "It's nothing that can really be talked about, I promise, Touma. Just this situation, Academy City, you know?"
Kamijou Touma nodded. He knew all too well what Misaka Mikoto was feeling. He had to agree that there really wasn't a whole lot that could be done to talk this issue out. For Kamijou Touma, for his wife, and for these people around him, all of whom, with the exception of the elderly man who had brought them here, were his close friends, this meeting couldn't go any slower, and couldn't be any more depressing, or tenuous.