Author's Note: I should have mentioned this in the previous chapter's note, but it slipped my mind. Whoops! For future reference, all characters, especially those that'll find themselves 'interacting' with our hero who are under 'the age' in canon will be aged up to adulthood in this setting. That's it. Thanks for listening!

"You mentioned misfortune, Touma Kamijou."

That was right; Kamijou had mentioned misfortune. He considered the implications of such a word as he quickly prepared himself for his day within the limited frame of time he was provided with by the fates, or perhaps by God, whatever force caused the world to spin and the cosmos to flow.

"Yeah. What of it? And more importantly, why am I still listening to you? I'm pretty sure I just knocked up Othi-chan."

"Well… I actually fibbed about that. See, it was a test. You passed. The once-Magic God Othinus was rendered sterile by complex, arcane cosmic mechanics many aeons ago. Your willingness to… push the envelope… is telling. You DO want this. Otherwise, you would have held back. You were ultimately in total control the entire time. As so many like you did, long before your ancestors were even conceived, you simply needed directions to your destination."

The ordinarily talkative Kamijou Touma spoke to no one as he brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror but not truly focusing on it.

"All humans do, that's just basic biology. I spent enough time in Komoe-sensei's class to at least learn that much; but if I follow what you're telling me – and there's no guarantees that I am – my entire life would be flipped upside down. How would I focus on finishing my schooling? Finding employment? I'd just be using women to get off."

Lust continued to hover over Kamijou's shoulder, shaking its head from one side and to the other as if it were chiding a wayward brat.

"Surely you recall the machinations of the Great Beast 666."

"How could I ever forget?"

"Were you ever made aware of the device he possessed through which he artificially forged the opposing "Sides"? The Archetype Controller. A device capable of causing planet-wide reality warping effects. Primitive, but impressive, especially for a silly boy like Crowley."

"To some extent. I at least know that Crowley had drawn the lines between "Magic" and "Science" artificially. Didn't know the name of whatever means he used to accomplish that."

"You, too, were a victim of the Archetype Controller, Touma Kamijou."

He stopped. His hands ceased to move. He was no longer drying his hair. His towel came to a sudden halt between his fingers.

"What?"

"The long, and the short of it… the Archetype Controller was used on you. To ensure your weakness. To ensure you would remain emasculated, easily-flustered… weakened. Not weakened enough to render you incapable of playing right into his hands as you fought his battles across the world, but weakened enough to render you a non-threat. You would never dream of conquering, or of higher aspirations. You would dream only of being a chattel slave in a system designed to shackle you."

It made sense; and that was the most frustrating part. Kamijou gritted his teeth, as the desire to punch a hole through the nearest wall washed over him like a tidal wave. The unexpected and uncharacteristic rage frightened the young man, yet, he found himself incapable of pushing back against it.

Every time he'd ever walked into an "accidental pervert scene", and reacted as if he'd crossed paths with a Tindalos Hound.

Every time he'd ever tried to get close to someone of the opposite gender in a way that wasn't purely platonic, always seemingly resulting in his efforts backfiring.

Every time he'd so much as glanced at the likes of Lessar, or Beauty-Sempai, or Othi-chan, or even biribiri, and felt guilt.

"None of that… was even me?"

"Keep your voice down, please…"

"Right, yeah, okay. Sorry. Still getting used to talking with voices in my head."

"No. It was not. The misfortune you've experienced, however, was very real. You were a cosmic plaything."

"Were?"

"Were. Surely you've noticed."

Nearly clad in his full school uniform, Touma had to admit, things seemed to have calmed down recently. In fact, he hadn't experienced any particularly outstanding instances of his classic, omnipresent bad luck. Touma still wasn't willing to believe it was entirely gone. Ever since all of that business in England, that part of his life seemed to have entirely evaporated. Touma had to admit that much.

"So, what you're telling me here, is that if I follow your advice – and, again, not saying that I will for sure – I'll become what I was meant to be; and by following along with the system here, I'll languish."

"Smart boy… you have an important destiny. One which cannot be ignored, one which I will not permit you to ignore! Why else would these many would-be brides gather around you? Figure it out. You were meant for more than chattel slavery, living and dying as a bean-counter or pencil-pusher."

"I never really did feel as if I was accomplishing anything. I still don't. I fail half the time when I can't get help from biribiri or Beauty-Sempai. None of this is even teaching me anything that I'd need to survive in the adult world, and a lot of my classmates have voiced the same thoughts. It's almost like it's there… Just because it needs to be."

Disheartened, but not disheartened enough to skip class and knowingly cause his pint-sized teacher to weep in sorrow, Kamijou finally slipped into his jacket.

The perpetually-hungry little nun hadn't awoken yet, but Othinus had at least taken to moving about and pulling her weight.

"Oi, Othi-chan," Touma remarked just before he passed her boy on his way out the door, "get Index up if she sleeps past eleven? Thanks."

"Of course," Othinus casually remarked, tending to her self-assigned chores and genuinely putting in effort. "Before you go, human…"

"Eh?"

Kamijou hardly had time to react before the former Magic God took his hands into her own, and, standing as tall as she could upon her toes, pushed her lips against her Understander's. Her tongue broke through the barrier of flesh, and found its way to Touma's own.

The two muscles struggled against one another for a few moments, like monumental beasts thrashing and battling in the climax of some giant monster film. Unconsciously, his hands found their way to her rear. He gripped, causing the green-eyed blonde to moan softly.

She was incredibly soft. Her skin was like the lightest of fabrics. Touma's hands found their way up, up, up, along Othinus' back.

Gliding his fingers along her skin, Touma felt ultimate comfort overtake him. He could've stood there, kissing the former Magic God for all eternity, if such a thing were at all possible. His grip on Othinus' rear tightened, and he pushed against her, attempting to overtake her. The urge to dominate overwhelmed him.

As she broke away, leaving her Understander in something of a stupor, Othinus leaned into Touma's ear and whispered, "don't dally, return here as quickly as you're able. I'll find something for the nun to do with one of her playmates. I require more carnal pleasure, if you're willing to continue exposing me to your sexual hunger."

Just yesterday – a mere twenty-four hours ago – he surely would've reeled back, cheeks alight in bright red, blabbering incoherently. Even if it wasOthinus, the one person he trusted and knew more than anyone else. That Kamijou Touma would've replied very differently. Seeing her naked was one thing; what they'd shared moments ago was entirely different.

"Yeah, I'll be here. I need more too."

And before long, he was out the door, making his way out from the dormitory and into the streets below.

Surprisingly, everything seemed to be running smoothly. Super technology assumed to have been rendered entirely inert when Academy City was shuddered, its entire population forcibly evacuated during the time in which the "great" demon known as Coronzon still walked the Earth, operated without issue.

Altogether, the population of Academy City had returned to school, to work, to normal everyday life; as if nothing had even happened at all. Touma knew some story was behind all that, but didn't particularly care to know anything about it.

So far, so good. No stray dogs chasing him up the street. No tin cans left laying about for him to trip and fall on. No birds defecating on him.

"So, I want to run something by you, Lust."

"I'm listening, Touma Kamijou. Consider me here for the, so-to-say, long haul."

"Great. For a shadow person living in my head, you're really not all that bad. A little pushy, but I've spent enough time with biribiri to adjust to pushiness…"

"All I am is a vague, abstract concept, Touma Kamijou."

"Say, take this as an example. If I want things to start going my way, I need to more or less do the exact opposite of what I was doing when that "Archetype Controller" you mentioned was messing with my head?"

"Entirely right. Pursue your academic studies to their finality if you must, but know that your ultimate destiny is unavoidable. As it has been in the past, even through the manipulations of Crowley. You brought low godlike beings. Humbled a literal deity. Taught the "world's strongest esper" humility.

"Yet, due to the Archetype Controller, and Crowley's desire to ensure your existence remained a non-issue, you never took due credit. You never rose to your station… don't mistake me. Most critically, you never claimed that which was rightly yours. I don't intend to heap blame upon you."

It made so much sense; it all made absolute, total sense. Partly, it was frustratingly true. Kamijou Touma couldn't just swear up and down that it was bullshit. In his heart of hearts, he knew Lust was right.

At this rate, there was no going back. Everything was clicking into place within his brain.

Touma was reminded of a scene in a famous film, where two different colored pills were presented before the film's protagonist, one representing a return to dreamlike delusion, the other representing permanent knowledge of the unavoidable truth. He quietly recalled the film, and the message of its overall narrative.

What teenage boy would possibly turn away from a girl like Lessar? What teenage boy would possibly pretend to be as dense as an ancient boulder when faced with the advances of a mature, refined woman like his Beauty-Sempai?

A victim of psychological manipulation, or, as the voice of Lust within Touma's head had referred to it, "reality warping". That's who would behave in such a way. It simply wasn't natural. He'd been entirely out of the natural order of things; forced out of that order for the benefit of another.

Shrugging off the creeping, surreal sense that his entire life in Academy City had been nothing more than some sort of cog in a greater, soulless machine, a machine of Aleister Crowley's creation, Touma focused primarily on arriving to class on time.

"You're… right. It's difficult to swallow, but you're right."

"There's no doubt; of course, I'm right. I know you Touma Kamijou, just as well as you know yourself. Perhaps even better."

"HEY! Hey, you! Yoo-hoo! Can you hear me?! I don't see earbuds in those ears! Are you ignoring me?"

Touma ceased to converse with the voice of Lust, and instead turned his attention to the source of the vocalizations that'd brought him back to the real world.

The voice belonged to Tokiwadai High School senior Misaka Mikoto, the third-ranked level five esper, the legendary "Railgun".

"Yo, biribir— I mean, Mikoto."

"Nice save," she remarked with a giggle, speeding up to walk in stride with Touma. "Hanging in there, Touma? I haven't seen you in a bit."

"Y-Yeah."

He'd found himself distracted almost immediately. Misaka Mikoto's figure had temporarily hypnotized him. Her powerful, athletic legs had appealing, feminine musculature in all the right places. Her light brown winter coat didn't particularly hide much, given that the Railgun didn't particularly have really have assets to speak about – of course, Touma would have never dreamed of saying such a thing to her face – and her hair, growing longer than it'd ever been as long as Touma had known her, was becoming less tomboyish and more elegant, ladylike.

Had that Shirai girl finally gotten her precious onee-sama to give in and try different things with her appearance?

For a few moments, his own dark irises locked with her hazel-colored ones. It wasn't an uncomfortable moment.

"I've been good, Mikoto. Just fine."

Being on a first-name basis only made sense, given all that the two had been through. Mikoto offered a warm smile in response.

"I'm glad… yup. Very glad! Anything in particular you've found difficult so far in class?"

"Everything?"

"Figures."

They laughed. Like normal teenagers, they laughed together. It felt incredibly relieving to simply let go, and have a good, wholesome laugh over simple things that the average person their age might've laughed at.

"I'm always here to help," the Railgun stated, as the two turned a corner together. Though they received more than a few glances, and heard many a whisper, neither particularly cared. Let them look, and let them talk. It was ultimately harmless anyways. The worst rumour that would've possibly flown was that "Tokiwadai's Ace has a boyfriend!"

"If you're stumped on something, just shoot me a text. I might be able to pitch in. Two brains can usually get things done quicker, and better, than one. It's great I happened to walk this way this morning."

"Why stop at two?"

"Hah?"

"Nothing, just… don't worry about it, Mikoto. Just a random thought, that's all."

Mikoto turned her attention away from the oncoming crowds of students for a split second, and offered Touma an uncharacteristic expression of longing.

"I missed you, I guess. Every time we've been together, there's always been some crisis, or some problem going on that needs to be solved. I mean, not EVERY time… you get what I'm trying to say!"

"Definitely," Touma replied, somewhat sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, as both he and the Railgun bobbed and weaved through the crowds. "I missed you too, Mikoto."

There were the final crossroads. They'd have to go their separate ways. A boy wandering into the School Garden, even in the company of a proper young lady like Misaka Mikoto, would cause a stir, doubtless.

"Well… I guess that's it!" Mikoto exclaimed, placing either of her hands, clad in warm, woolen mitts at her sides, upon her hips. "See ya around, Touma."

"Now is your moment. Picturesque!"

"W-What?"

"Take her!"

"Look, Lust… I don't think I can go in that direction. Biribiri wouldn't go for it."

"And? Your destiny steers you in many directions. Don't play coy with me, Touma Kamijou. After all, you want this. How can you know her thoughts for certain? She would make a powerful, capable wife and mother to future champions."

"And how do you know anything about what I really know, or want? Sort of presumptuous of you."

"Because, if you didn't want this, I wouldn't be speaking of it to you."

Suddenly, he realized he'd left Mikoto hanging.

"You… alright, Touma? You totally just blanked out on me."

"Sorry, thinking," Touma babbled, trying to come up with a half-believable excuse on the fly. To be entirely fair, that wasn't technically a lie. "Yeah. Take care of yourself, Mikoto. Stay safe."

And, as Mikoto walked off, headed in the direction of the School Garden, Lust sighed within Touma's mind.

"The one that got away. There's always next time."

"Give me some time to think on it, Lust."

Rushing like his life depended on it, Kamijou Touma just barely managed to arrive at class on time; he took a few seconds to recall how he hadn't encountered any outwardly obvious instances of misfortune on his travels from his dorm to his high school. He hardly considered his encounter with Tokiwadai's Ace to be a misfortune of any sort.

He'd slid himself into his seat at his desk before his pint-sized teacher had even made it to the classroom herself, panting slightly, a slick sheen of sweat having formed on his brow.

A voice broke the relative silence, then.

"KAAAAAAMIJOU! I was getting so lonely! Delta Force still isn't even complete! We're missing an operative! Where is the siscon?!"

"Be quiet and don't speak of such inappropriate things! Or I'll make you be quiet."

"You can't make me! Even with the power of your Fukiyose Forehead Deluxe, you still can't match me!"

"Oh?"

"You underestimate my power!"

"Don't try it."

He didn't consider this to be misfortune, either. Aogami Pierce and Fukiyose Seiri, the "iron wall girl". Despite himself, Kamijou Touma smiled, staring at the blackboard and his teacher's unattended desk while Fukiyose Seiri proceeded to violently throttle Aogami Pierce, just out of Touma's line of sight.

"Behave yourself, or this gets worse!"

"I'm so sorry, Fukiyose-sensei! Forgive meeeeee!"

Fukiyose certainly had very appealing assets, and an athletic, curvy figure to match, with a plump rear end, perfect for grabbing onto in the midst of procreative activities. He could almost envision the athletic young woman bouncing up and down upon his member, her hands pushing against his chest as she moaned aloud.

For the first time in the longest time that he could remember, Touma didn't feel that familiar pang of guilt knocking him over the head as he fantasized.

Lust's words made more and more sense as the minutes wore on. Touma quietly hoped his pint-sized teacher would take her time getting to class as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped in the warmth of the lewd fantasy.

"This really isn't bad at all."