A/N: Violence warning.

'Where are you planning to go now, Queen? The weather doesn't look good... Maybe it's better to stay indoors.'

Junko, among others, is in the clique's headquarter room. It's not just the purple-haired girl who is puzzled and worried at this moment, for everything is too bizarre to be understood by minds that haven't gone insane. There is no plausible reason to insist, for instance, that Academy City's weather 'forecast', its prediction of future weather conditions, can go as far off as to miss the tremendous thunderstorm that everybody is witnessing right now. Sure, even the best machine has margins for error, but that is not to say that the most powerful supercomputer in the world, one built with technologies decades ahead of other countries, can go wrong in the most fundamental way. When the gloomy dusk descended, Academy City held its breath; every person out and about immediately sought shelter, and even those at their comfortable homes began to worry. There is no reason not to fear when a clear, sunny sky is covered with dense clouds in less than a minute, and if Academy City were a little more religious, its residents would have observed that the day of Retribution has arrived and God is to punish the sinful men and women of the land.

Whatever it is, Junko knows instinctively that letting Misaki step out of the door will be a great mistake. That will be the only thing more unreasonable than what has happened.

'Huh? Why are you so concerned? I'm just taking a walk to the convenience store near our school.'

'But still... please let us accompany you. I feel it can be quite dangerous to go out alone.'

'I didn't know you are such a timid person, Junko-chan. What can happen to me? I'm a Level 5, you know?'

'That's true, but...'

'I'm going.'

As the door swings to a close, Junko takes a step back.

'... That's right. Shoukuhou-sama will be fine, won't she?'

She turns to look outside again.

'But seriously, what's with the weather?'

Uiharu looks up at the characters inscribed on the placard. 'Tokiwadai' isn't a place she hasn't visited before, but in some way she feels an utter disconnection with this prestigious institution. Is it true that one can never belong to a social class without being born into it, after all? Is it true that the life of an 'ojou-sama' is something that Uiharu can never aspire to? How much she hopes that she was born into a famous, rich family and able to live like a noble lady...

...Wait, I must stop thinking about all that nonsense. I came here for an important duty!

Uiharu was busy filing paperwork at the 177th Judgement branch when she received a call. She picked up her phone and put it at her ear without shifting her eyes for a second. A strange voice came through.

'Uiharu-san, come to Tokiwadai now.'

She's confused, and the way the person sounds creeped her out. She removed her phone from her ear and placed it in front of her so that she could see the contact name. 'Misaka Mikoto' - that's what she saw.

'Uiharu?'

'Ah, Mi- Misaka-san? What's the matter?' she says, placing her phone back hurriedly.

'Come and take Kuroko. Bring something that can deal with injuries, too. Kuroko is fucking hurt... she's fucking bleeding so much... and I need to do... what needs to be done.'

'Need to do something... What do you mean?'

There was no response for a while. She could only hear a few chuckles through the phone.

'Take her to Judgement 177th branch. I will go there once I'm done... I promise.'

Uiharu's lips shiver a little, though she knows she has no reason to be scared. 'Sure,' she replies.

The call is cut off on the other side.

So... Shirai-san needs me, right? If that's the case, I must move fast!

As a capable and responsible sempai, Kuroko has truly done a lot for Uiharu in helping her develop as a Judgement member. Now is the time to pay back.

That is why Uiharu, undeterred by the thunders, came all the way here.

'You may come in,' the guard says, looking at Uiharu with her big, stoic eyes that simmer with cautious curiosity. Outsiders are as rare here as fish in a desert.

It isn't hard to find the right room as Uiharu has visited the dormitory once before. As she reaches the dark-wood door labelled 'Room 208', she carefully knocks at it and waits for response. The eerie quiet fills the atmosphere, causing her body to shiver involuntarily. Nobody answers the door, so she knocks once more and casually pushes the handle. Surprisingly, the door isn't locked and opens to show the room.

'Sorry for intruding...'

She greets apologetically while stepping into the room, but she quickly realises the needlessness of that. As she narrows her eyes to adapt to the darkness, she can vaguely make out a short, slim figure lying on the bed with some long, lethargic hair attached to the round top. Fashes of lightning shine the interiors with fleeting pale white, and at those moments she can see a sound-asleep girl. Her unzipped grey skirt reveals her snow-white thigh, and her vest and shirt are rolled up to her flat chest. At times, vociferous thunders explode in the distance of the sky and powerful wind assault the fragile windows, threatening to disturb the girl's sweet dream with shattering violence. But the girl can't care less. She knows, in her subconscious, that nobody and nothing can do harm to her. She knows she's safe in this room, the single place where instability and permanence delicately coexist.

Uiharu steps to Kuroko's side, gazing down at the placid face of hers. No matter how many times she reminds herself, she can never keep in mind the fact that despite her domineering demeanour, Kuroko is the same as tall - slightly shorter, in fact. She places her bag on the floor and squats by the bed, and now that she's closer she has at last noticed the bruises on Kuroko's exposed belly.

So that's where she's hurt, eh?

She smiles a little as she takes out a towel.

Let me help you this time round, Shirai-san!

It feels so weird... Everything...

When the Queen left the room for the convenience store, she took what she was embarking on as a short, relaxing trip. But no, she's grossly wrong. Every cell of hers is trembling in horror, and if you are guessing the reason, no, it's not the thunderstorm that she's this afraid of. Rather, it's the growing feeling that those blinding blasts of lightning and deafening bolts of thunder are clustering, approaching and coming down at her that is creeping her soul out of the wits. Whatever this is, it's by no means natural, for no thunderstorm will track her with such precision. It's almost like she's followed by a predator, tailing her to look for the best time to launch the deadly strike. Hurriedly, she quickens her pace and turns into a dark alley, although she knows this can't hide her from the heavenly view, but that has only made things worse as the deafening sounds echo between the narrow walls and reverberates across her entire being.

She takes another turn, and by now she's running as fast as she can - which, to the average person, is the same as walking slightly faster. Her mind control ability has been her source of pride and her perfect tool to skip lessons, but now she genuinely regrets not attending those PE lessons that would have helped her run less like a bouncing meatball right now. A few seconds are all it takes to rob the Queen of her breath, but even as her organs painfully twitch around and paralysis pushes her nerves to the brink of break-down, her legs resist her body's desire to rest and just keeps running and running forward. She has no destination in mind, but the only thing she knows is to never turn around to look at what's coming closer and closer.

But even though she doesn't know a specific direction she should go, she does understand that reaching a dead-end is the worst thing imaginable.

The world quiets down, and a chill creeps up her spine. Staring at the blank wall, she knows there's nowhere to run.

How much she hopes she can muster the courage to turn around and meet the threat in its face, but alas, her legs are shaking like they are made of cotton! Logically speaking she needs to see what's coming to fight back, but the unreasonable belief that standing still like this can make her safer is too compelling to defy. As a pricking sensation mounts on her hair and her arms, she nervously shuts her eyes.

A loud thunder explodes above her head, and she knows, this is the end of the struggle. Pain whacks her head, and before she can even scream her body has lost strength. Her eyelids feel extremely heavy, while her sight falls into darkness.

The golden hair of the Queen lies on the ground like dry grass. Electricity dissipates from her twitching body, and a pair of dark green shoes enter the view. Above two slender yellow-skinned legs are short, light green pants that fail to cover the muscles lying beneath the deceptively loose skin. Looking further up, what can be seen is a chest that heaves with unsaid excitement and a shadow hiding a smile that has just crept up a pair of lips.

A crack of electricity seeps out from behind the adolescent's head, and it quickly intensifies and surrounds the body in a shield of whitish blue. It marks not just the range of power emission, but also the boundary of an inviolable sanctum, which if breached can unleash mortal retribution onto all. The girl stretches her hand to grab the Queen's collar and drags the dead-heavy body behind as she turns around. Slow but determined, she steps forward, towards the even darker place. The stern look on her face rarely changes and the creepy laughter escaping her mouth remains constant.

'Hehe... Hehehehe...'

A turn at the corner nearly makes her bump into a young man walking her way. Surprise flashes on her face, like a ripple that can disrupt a placid lake only momentarily. The dominant feeling in her heart, the slight frustration over having her way blocked mixed with the strange rage burning in her every cell, seems to surface when she narrows her bright eyes at the apologetic man. His agape mouth has apparently been trying to send out a word of apology, but the intersection of their sights is so chilling the man is frozen at his place.

He looks down to avoid her stare, and at that instant blood drains from his face at such rapidity that it resembles vampires fleeing the rising sun. His ability to maintain balance is lost, as he steps back frantically and props his arm to the wall to support his shaking body. With much effort he straightens his index finger and point at what seems like a ghost.

'Huh?'

She takes a whole few seconds to realise that the man isn't pointing at her; not at her specifically, anyway. Tracing his finger, she can see it pointing at the thing she's grabbed in her hand.

'W-W... What is that you are holding?'

'Just a piece of garbage I need to dispose of. Any problem?'

Her hand lets go of the collar and raises mid-air, grabbing air with her palm and turning it into swirling electric currents. They grow and condense, scream and rampage. Yet, even as the ball enlarges to the height of her chest, it only manages to shine the lower part of her face, leaving her eyes covered in an ominous shade.

'Well, don't you want to be discarded as well? ... Hehehe...'

As she puts even more power into her hand, excitement gushes to her heart and heats her blood to the boiling point. The murderous thought, the bestial urge to tearing the man in front into pieces, is pushing her to the edge of perversion and derangement. Nothing will have stopped her from descending down that path of destruction if he hasn't run away in time.

'DEVIL!'

He screams as he disappears into the gloom, and something in her, something that was burning just now, gradually dies down. When the smoke dissipates, things in front can be seen much more clearly. As the agitation in her limbs gives in to the chill of the air around her, what she can feel more clearly now that her rage is gone is a sense of frustration, of her heart being pulled to the bottom by something incredibly heavy.

A horrid chill creeps up her spine, robbing her of her strength. It's almost like, she is scared of the thought, of what she's about to do.

...No no. Please don't feel like this, please... Your mission is far from over.

She clenches her teeth and shakes her head, as if that can get that thought out of her head.

Remind yourself... Kuroko's pain, Kuroko's suffering... all because I couldn't take care of her.

Energy rushes from her belly, the moment she recalls the imagery of Kuroko's injured body. Blood rages through her vessels, and any last bit of fear and uncertainty has vanished, as her heart shivers in rage.

And no noise has been made since, except for the constant zaps around the electromaster. Slowly, the deafening silence permeates the alleys and fills the air with suffocating density.

It is an ordinary afternoon for the uncle at the streetside grocery store. Ceaseless background music fills the dimly lit room, the television programme being broadcast is the only activity in this motionless time and space. He likes the programme, even though he has watched it many times, especially since he is using the nostalgic device he bought on college graduation day. Years have past and gone, and the vibrant energy that pushed him to buy this stall with his savings is here no more. Indeed, time has worn away his edges and corners, and the only thing he knows now is to stay at this tiny patch of land with his treasured possessions and give anybody that happens to visit anything they need. There is also no need for timeliness, ever. While he used to wake up and start business promptly at 9 o'clock, for a long time he has taken on a more casual style. That is somewhat cool as well; the ability to do whatever you wish whenever you like is a luxury for most dwellers in the busy Academy City.

Besides watching TV, meeting and talking to people is the only entertainment he enjoys. It also happens that people around this place know him quite well. Most of his customers are middle-aged men and women who love to come to his place and chat about life in general, but he does at times have some visitors from the prestigious all-girl schools in the Garden of Schools. It's definitely harder to talk to those modern girls whose beliefs and mindsets he frequently cannot understand, but he doesn't mind. His philosophy is to talk to whoever is willing to listen, because he knows the process of a conversation, rather than the outcome of it, is what truly matters. That is also why he never flatters his customers, quite contrary to what some modern businesspeople do. They aren't gods; they are human beings with whom he is an equal and can do whatever he is most comfortable about.

For an instant the room turns bright, and he knows instinctively that someone has entered his store. A short, slim figure appears from behind the rolls of shelves, and he looks up to see those familiar messy brown bangs.

'Hey, Misaka-san. It's long since we last met, isn't it?'

The girl named Misaka Mikoto looks up a little and squeezes out a smile on her face.

'Hm... Yea. It's been long, right?'

'What's wrong? You don't seem quite as energetic.'

He knows there's something wrong with this girl; he cannot name the emotion he feels when he looks at those brown eyes, but he knows something is wrong. If the long quiet hours in this tiny space has taught him anything, it must be the ability to see through any pretence of normalcy with mere instincts. Nothing can deceive his eyes and trick his mind, not even the biggest smile on the most innocuous face.

'Huh? Ah... I'm just a little tired with homework and stuff...'

'Studying at one of the most prestigious schools in Academy City must be tough.'

'You are very right.'

As the girl looks away from him, he releases a relieved breath. Fatigue really seems like a modern plague, he thinks to himself, recalling the tired adult faces he has seen frequently in recent days. How does that compare to the backward but relaxed days of his youth?

'So, what do you want to bring home today?' he asks while standing up. 'An umbrella, maybe? I bet you've heard the thunders, right?'

She glances at the man's face that is now at her eye level. 'I would like to purchase some ropes,' she replies slowly.

'Oh. What for?'

'School events, you know,' she pauses a little, 'tug o' war.'

'Ah I see. Let me just take some for you.'

The man disappears to the back of the room, and she leans to the wall with folded arms. She takes a quick glance at the man's prized possessions, from the rusted cup he claims to be the only souvenir he has of his first date, to the dusty shirt he insists to be all that can remind him of the crazy days with his deceased friend. She has heard him tell the story a million times, but now that she looks at them again, they appear in a totally different light. Right here time isn't moving, and yet right now so many fragments of past moments congregate here, growing aged yet being polished by the slow, quiet flow of time.

'Here you go.'

The man's soft voice pulls her out of her thoughts. Her eyes shift towards the table, where a few ropes with different thicknesses and lengths are on display.

'Errr... But they all look the same to me.'

'Well to make it simple for you,' he replies to the confused girl, 'some of these are cheaper while others are tougher.'

'Oh...'

'So, price or quality for you?'

'Quality, of course.'

He doesn't look surprised. 'That's right,' he says, gazing at her profoundly, 'Tokiwadai really cares nothing about finances, eh?'

'Not exactly. I just think price is a necessary sacrifice for good quality.'

'The same way the end justifies the means?'

She looks up cautiously at the man, who leans back and laughs long.

'It's ok sis. You don't need to know the answer to that...'

As she walks out into the stormy day, her lips curl up just a little.

'Of course I know the answer...'

A crack of electricity escapes her bangs.

A dinghy is all that can be seen on the vast ocean, traversing the boundless surface of still water. No one, absolutely no one, knows of its presence. Reason? It has shut itself out, for it sees no need to send or receive. It travels slowly, for there's no rush to reach the destination that has never been marked on its map. Nor does staying in here cause any bit of concern. Whether it takes a day or a hundred years to reach the shore doesn't at all make a frown; having stayed here far too long, it finds the ocean more homely than land. It is just like a speck of dust, having come from the ground but refusing to return ever since.

As one wise man has said thousands of years ago, nothing in the world can last forever. Campfires will die out regardless of how fabulous it looks when it's alive, and emotions will depart no matter how much the person values or enjoys it. There's no reason, then, that this portion of the ocean should forever remain this placid. Out of nowhere come relentless winds that stir the water into white waves within seconds, pushing and pulling the helpless dinghy around. Roars from the heavens are deafening, and the waves eventually got powerful enough to rob the boat of its balance. Deprived of means to escape, it sinks deeper and deeper in the deep blue water, suffocated by wave after wave.

It's tormenting, the way the suffocation strikes intermittently.

And that finally made her open her eyes. Greeted with dense darkness, they feel scorchingly painful.

'Time to wake up yet, Misaki?'

The sound is so familiar, but for the moment it is too surreal to be identified. What should be a hard squeeze explodes on her cheek. She shuts her eyes while screaming in protest.

'Open your eyes already, scumbag!'

Her head can only follow the strong backward pull on her long hair. She reckons that the only way to alleviate the pain is to follow orders, so she forces her eyes one. Now that they are more adept to the lack of light, she can make out a slim silhouette close by. The face can't at all be seen, but to her that's trivial. The only important thing is to stop the agonising pain on her scalp.

'Please... stop pulling it already...'

The hand does stop, but she doesn't feel the slight bit of relief. It's not the storm that has passed; it's the rest it has taken to strike back, with greater ferocity.

'...'

Pressure is building up through the quietness and stillness. Her round eyes don't know what to focus on, yet they know to stare at the shadow that is approaching her slowly. With the logic of a human she cannot predict what is to happen, but with the instinct of a prey she knows she needs to escape.

Unfortunately she cannot run and struggle like all preys do. She has not the strength to break the ropes tying her wrists together, and she has not the will to resist the ice cold hand that has just touched her chin.

'"Stop pulling your hair", was that your request?'

The voice is strangely calm, as if it comes from a waiter taking an order from a customer. It almost deceives her into saying yes, into trying to negotiate with the other party - almost. But it doesn't take long for her to snap back to reality, for the creepy slithering of the elongated fingers around her chin brought her heart to the throat. She doesn't know how best to respond to that question, but it seems like no good thing will come out either way.

'... Huh?'

That's the only sound she can make.

'That's very interesting, the fact that you are begging for my mercy, for pardon from agony. I'm just wondering then: who was the one that subjected violence to others?'

She quivered.

The fingers stop at her neck. 'I cannot understand...' the voice said, 'I cannot understand... whatever you have done. Why? Why did you pick on her? Why must you make her suffer? What the hell was your motivation?'

She wants to speak, at least to put up a show of strength. But her throat is clogged, and she can only blink as the silhouette starts to light up, in the white of death.

'Say something, will you?!'

Suddenly the hand grabs onto her neck, with a grip so powerful she feels like her neck will snap any moment. She grimaces and squirms around, though with hands tied behind her back she cannot break free. The movement quickly sapped away the little amount of gas left in her lungs, and now she opens her mouth big to get just a little bit more currents through her airway. Her eyes, round open, looks at the harm-doer, and that's when the light of the sparking electricity allows her to finally see the face.

Why... Is she...

She cannot keep the thoughts going, not with the fatigue in her body, the ringing in her ears and the throbbing in her head. Her vision grows blurry, and it only can see the fiery rage burning on the face of the electromaster. The strong hand grabs even tighter, as it brings her up in the air.

'Look at you, your face of despair and agony. So enjoyable.'

Her weight pulling her down, the pain on her neck becomes all the more tingling. She feels blood rushing to her head, as if transporting oxygen from all over her body, just to ensure she can stay alive. Indeed, she wants to live, to give her life a chance to shine like the morning sun. But right now as a dwindling candle she definitely cannot aspire to anything more than bare existence. She just wishes that the grip will loosen just a bit, that she can get in just a bit more air. She hopes that it isn't too late to apologise, that her begging eyes can convey the message.

She seems to have succeeded. Her airway is relieved of the deadly weight, and gravity pulls her to the hard floor. Able to breathe once again, she shuts her eyes as she greedily takes in the sweet air.

The electromaster watches, delighted. Electricity dances around her, and a spark incidentally strikes the light, brightening the entire space.

'I could have killed you, but... that would be little fun, right?'

Misaki feels a lot better now. As she looks up at Mikoto, she speaks the questions she has wanted to ask for quite some time.

'What are you doing? Why are we here?'

Mikoto bends her body a little, so that she can look Misaki in her eyes.

'Well, a public toilet. Just the right match for the filthy you.'

She looks curiously at the Queen's face, with her hand creepily unbuttoning her collars. The Queen hides her neck to resist, but what she receives is only more violence.

'Well, there is a more specific purpose,' she says, letting go of the clothes, 'Now, you did that to Kuroko, didn't you?'

Mikoto's face is so close, that Misaki can sense the dense breaths coming from her nose, brushing her cheeks and touching her nape. It travels down her spin, enters her body and churns in her stomach. Nausea grew in her throat, partly from the choking and partly from fear, but with the self-esteem pushing her to fake strength, she presses it down. Looking at the electromaster as if there's no big deal, she replies gently. 'Yeah, I did it. What can you do about that?'

She regrets those words the moment they come out of her mouth. The smirk on Mikoto's face disappears while her eyes don't shift. Placing her lips close to the ear, she slowly sends the words with a soft voice, the sound of the ghost.

'I will return the favour, a hundred times over.'

Misaki shivers, but not from the understanding of what is going to happen. She gazes blankly, as the bloodless hand reaches for her collars.

'There's no point in resisting; your hands are firmly cuffed, and there's nowhere to run. You can only wait here as I torture you, until I eventually take your life away. That's an excellent deal you've got here... Haha...'

It's not like she's gonna fight back any longer. Given that Mikoto's power can kill her in a split second, it's best to do what she wants.

The hands land on her tits. With a hard squeeze the soft flesh sinks like a balloon.

'HAAA!'

It feels like the tip has just exploded, filling her mind with nothing but agony. She can feel the fingernails even through her uniform, scratching and carving into her sensitive skin.

'How does it feel, getting your tits bullied like this, huh? You can understand pain after all, can't you?'

She presses even harder, as if the scorching pain isn't unbearable enough yet.

'Honestly I have always been jealous of your big breasts... What if I turn it around a little bit? The most that will happen is it will fall off, so it's no big deal, right? Hehehe...'

She turns her wrists, earning another scream from her victim.

But that's not enough.

How is this enough to pay back for what Kuroko has been put through?

Even if what she has done is proportionate, even if Misaki is already suffering more pain... it's not like Kuroko's wounds can just disappear.

That is true though... if she cannot undo Kuroko's suffering anyway, why is she even doing all this, perpetrating evil and perpetuating agony? ...

The electromaster is confused. She should stop, for whatever she's doing serves no purpose. She is wrong, for her actions are exactly what she detests.

Her will is faltering, and her grip is loosening. Misaki feels the pain subsiding, and she opens her eyes cautiously to see the dim brown crystals shivering. Misaka's hands are still touching Misaki's body, but a heavy weight just landed on her back, pressing her towards the floor as she pants hard to gather her breath. A few moments later, she looks to the ceiling. Her eyes are round, her mouth is wide agape trying to grab more air, and her body is trembling hard as if to shake her thoughts off her mind.

'SHUT THE FUCK UP!'

The girl shouts, although there's no sound except for Misaki's nervous breathing. That Misaka's crazy is the only explanation she has for this behaviour, but she would rather that Misaka can behave somewhat like a normal human being. She just sits there, watching Misaka losing her mind.

'SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!'

Mikoto wants to shut down her thoughts. She knows they are logical, she knows they are compelling, but there is something in her that is constantly resisting any semblance of reason and sanity in her mind. She doesn't understand her rage, nor does she know why all her limbs are burning with the urge to tear Misaki apart. But she knows fully, that her mind has fallen.

Nothing can stop her revenge now.

She will not just torture her body; she will torment her mind, bring down her soul, and make her feel worse than death.

Without saying anything, she grabs onto the hills on Misaki's chest. Electricity bursts through her arms, and shoots out right out of her palm. The fleshy body takes in all the invisible currents, and along their paths they disrupt bioelectric signals causing cells to twitch. If the voltage is cold water, her blood must be hot oil, for she feels like something hot has just exploded in all her blood vessels. Through the two routes the charges converge at her heart, which is forced to run at the pace the electricity, not her body, wishes for. Just at the moment when the machine gone wild almost ceases working, the electrocution stops. That's sort of a blessing, but at the same time she can do nothing but try to hold on to the life she just recovered.

But it doesn't mean she has lost the ability to be shocked, especially when Misaka pulls off her pants and whips out a giant meatstick.

'What... the hell...'

'Quiet.'

She takes a few steps closer to Misaki and shovels her thing right into the mouth.

'HMMM!?'

Her nose is the first to react as the object closes up, with the filthy, sour smell triggering her gag reflex. She shuts her mouth trying to stop the thing, but Mikoto not giving a damn about the rejection forces it through the lips. As the last defence, she clenches her teeth, resisting the powerful force trying to break them.

'Loosen your teeth already!'

Electricity shoots out from the tip of the stick and robs senses away from her mouth, her throat and her head. She feels she's growing lighter, and she loses the strength to resist. Her jaws open, and a hot mass fills her mouth.

'Wow... Your mouth is so warm, Shokuhou! My dick... feels amazing in there!'

Mikoto looks with tremendous satisfaction at Misaki, at the eyes shut due to pain and the mixture of saliva and precum pouring out of her mouth. Her urge intensifies as the warmth at the tip gives her greater and greater pleasure.

She can't take it; she wants more. She wants to penetrate deeper, and deeper.

Misaki will suffer, but she deserves it... doesn't she?

Putting her hands behind Misaki's head, she pulls out her stick just a little before thrusting in with all her might.

'MMM...'

Mouth stuffed full, she cannot scream though she very much wants to. The warm stick stretches her throat wide apart, as it curves down and creeps further and further in. A strong urge to vomit troubles her stomach, but she cannot get it out. Though her head still feels numb, she can feel as the thing presses against her airway, making breathing even harder. But even as she is suffering, she can feel a warm tickling in her lower stomach.

'Haaa...'

Mikoto throws her head behind. As the whole shaft disappears into Misaki's red lips, she lets out a sweet moan. This is certainly a new experience, with the tongue and the body heating her sensitive tip. She pulls it out a little and starts moving back and forth, feeling as the teeth scratch the lower joint and the throat teases the upper half. Penetrating stronger and stronger, she can feel a dense liquid seeping out of her bladder.

'I- I'm cumming! I'm cumming in your mouth!'

As her body releases tension, the viscous liquid stored up in her lower abdomen shoots out through her urethra and explodes at her tip. She pushes her body forward to stuff her stick deep inside the throat. When her body is clear, she slowly pulls out her stick, a sticky white connecting the tip to the lips.

Just as Misaki opens her mouth trying to finally vomit everything out, a powerful force strikes her chin and forces her jaws closed.

'Make sure you gulp every drop of my deluxe juice down, ya? It must taste delicious, right? Hehehe...'

The foul taste of the thick cum makes Misaki nauseous, but she cannot stop it from slowly trickling down her gullet. The slow process makes the feeling even worse, so to shorten the discomfort she shuts her eyes and just swallows everything in her mouth.

'Good girl, I see you following my orders.'

Coldness spreads down her body, and it churns in the stomach when it reaches there. Misaki gulps some saliva to suppress the nausea, and she opens her eyes to see Mikoto gently stroking her meatstick with her hand. White juices are still flowing out of the tip, and her hand spreads them to the shaft.

'Well then, since you are so obedient, why don't you help me clean this up with your tongue? Maybe I will let you live if you do this properly.'

Misaki cannot think anymore. She watches Mikoto remove her hand and push the stick in front and then sticks out her red tongue to reach for the tip. Caress thesides of the fat mushroom-like top, she looks up at Mikoto as if trying to understand if her 'service' is good enough. The saliva mixes with the cum and her tongue takes the mixture in. Though the mouldy taste disgusts her, she feels more and more aroused with the perverted act she's doing. Soon, the white on the stick is replaced by a thick, transparent layer of fluid.

'I must admit, your blowjob is very good for someone like you. You deserve a little "reward", don't you...?'

Mikoto leans forward slightly so that her hand can reach Misaki's waist. She moves her hand around it, and when she finds the button she begins undoing it.

'Wha... What are you doing?'

She pulls the zipper and the skirt comes loose. Easily she stips it down Misaki's legs revealing a pair of light pink panties squeezed between her nervously twitching legs.

'I'm sure you want it, don't you?'

Certainly enough. Misaki do not want to admit it, but a dark circle is expanding from the centre as more and more juice seeps out of her pussy. She tries to block Mikoto's hand with her thigh, but the elongated fingers simply find their way around it. Through the layer of cloth, her pussy first feels a tentative slide on the outside, and then a drilling pain comes out as a scream when Mikoto etches in with her fingernails.

'That's for trying to stop me... You aren't allowed to resist my actions.'

The pinch has only lasted a second or two, but Misaki feels as though her skin has been pierced through already. She releases her legs, allowing Mikoto to peel off her panties.

'You're so wet already, huh? Seems like you are ready for the "reward"...'

A smirk emerges on her lips.

'Let's start with one finger, shall we?'

Caressing the clitoris briefly as foreplay, she turns her wrist and pushes her index finger all the way in. Misaki purses her lips, but a sweet moan still manages to escape. It slides in and out for a few seconds, and then Mikoto puts in another. Red appears as Mikoto's fingers emerge from the vulva, making her a little surprised.

'You are still a virgin?'

'Yea... And yet you have done it so hard...'

'But you like it, don't you? Look, there is a flood down here on your bitchy cunt already. Hehehe...'

Indeed, although Misaki has to bear with the tremendous burning sensation in her lower abdomen, the rough movements that scratch and stir her tissues are giving her wave after wave of pleasure. Being fucked like this is certainly shameful, but she doesn't want the feeling to stop coming in.

'That means... I can do it even harder.'

'Heh?'

Mikoto places yet another finger in the already full pussy, and Misaki can only look down and watch helplessly. She tentatively thrusts it in, but she doesn't seem to be satisfied.

'I can still put in more... everything in.'

'No please... No more already, please... It's very painful...'

'You think I fucking care?'

All her fingers are now buried by the swollen skin, and she starts stuffing her whole hand deeper down. Pain is like floodwater from a breached dam, instantly overwhelming Misaki's nerves and filling her mind with pure agony. Blood rushes to the stretched tissues, though it makes things worse by intensifying the inflammation. Where the thick wriggling thing touches, it ruptures bloodstreams and shreds muscles. She looks at Mikoto's face, the portrait of a brutal maniac.

'Now that your virginity is taken, it's time to make your most sacred body part suffer some incredible torment. I'm sure you will enjoy it a tonne!'

Mikoto kneels down to see her hand entering the tight-fit hole as she says that. All her fingers are in by now, and with some difficulty she manages to squeeze her wrist in as well. The smell of the blood pouring out of Misaki, makes Mikoto's heart race. It is nothing conscious that is driving her sadistic urges, but every time Misaki's legs twitch in agony, she can feel the thing at her lower abdomen swell and throb. Though she isn't touching the thing, it feels like the mere thought of tearing Misaki apart is bringing it near the limit.

Her fingers reach all the way to a wall of firm muscles, and her heart starts to boil. She knows that this is the cervix, and she also knows that behind this impenetrable wall is the womb, arguably the most sacred place of a female body. It is what sustains humanity as a species, for without it bearing children will be almost impossible. It is the part which, different from the face or the boobs or the vagina, is so important that the body is actually designed with features to protect it. Sure, Mikoto may be able to rape her brutally, but as long as the cervix is there, her fingers can never enter the womb.

But then, if there is such an important body part, Mikoto must make sure to vandalise it.

As much as her mind desires to do this, it is also... to punish Misaki.

If Kuroko suffered injuries on her stomach, Misaki must pay with unbearable pain... all over her body!

'Ahaaa... Please stop... scratching so deep...'

'Sure.'

Mikoto follows the plead, as she pauses movements on her fingers. Misaki is surprised, pleasantly. Even though this comes eerily sudden, she can at least take the chance to breathe a little.

Before electricity splits her in half.

Mikoto lets it out all. Currents charged by lust and fury paralyse the cervix instantly, and after they make their entry they scorch every inch of the womb with their every touch. Within seconds Misaki's entire lower body loses senses, as Mikoto's power overwhelms her feeble bioelectricity and forces all the muscle to dance to its tune, the dance of despair. Mikoto isn't satisfied, though. Her fingers continuously eject electricity that forcefully stimulates the cervix, bringing the pleasure over the edge. Even though she feels like she is being torn apart from the bottom, her glands release all the liquids stored up in her body. Pain and pleasure are mixed together as the sticky substance travels down her ravaged vagina, giving her a sensation she has never experienced before. Her eyes are rolled to the back of her head, as her mind tries to process all that.

'What a wonderful expression on your face! You sure did enjoy my "Railgun", didn't you?'

Misaki looks horrible. Tears have escaped her eyes as a natural pain response, and saliva is leaking out of the mouth she no longer has the strength to keep shut.

Mikoto loves it.

She pulls her hand out, along with the red liquid of life. Gazing at it curiously, she lifts her hand up and takes a lick at it.

'Hm... Doesn't taste bad!'

She likes it; she doesn't know why. The mere smell of blood used to make her gag, but now something, something inside her heart, is propelling her to accept and appreciate the general bitterness, and the slight sweetness, of the fluid on her hand. She doesn't know if it's an illusion, but the blood seems to excite her thing down there even further.

She wants to allay that intense desire.

As she gets her hand on the stick, she feels an immense surge of pleasure just from the warmth of her palm.

But then, she cannot use the pussy; leave no evidence, she thinks to herself.

So that leaves her... only one way.

'Mi... Misaka-san? What are you planning to do?'

Mikoto has just untied Misaki's hands, which then clench into tight, shivering fists. Her insides still feel inflamed, but the feeling has gotten slightly more bearable. But then, the thought about what her fellow Level Five is going to do scares her. Is she going to kill? Normally she would have been freaked out by that, but right now death feels less of an act of damnation but more of a release, an event of liberation from all that she has been put through. She is only scared that Mikoto will not kill her, but instead will endlessly torture her like just now. She won't try to fight back, as she knows with her freedoms and dignity already stripped away, nothing she can say or do will change the mind of the Electromaster. To think that even beasts are able to resist when suffering is imposed on them from without, it seems all the more like Misaki has become nothing more than a spiritless, empty mass.

'Well, you should know it if you look over here, at my fat dick brimming with energy...'

Looking over, Misaki sees a stick that is growing ever larger every second. Although she has never really seen such a thing before, she vaguely knows that when this thing becomes big, it is desiring to do... that...

If it's just that, she really doesn't mind. Just do it once, and maybe Mikoto will be satisfied and let her go...

At least, she hopes that's the case.

'Huh?... Does that silence mean you know what I want?'

She nods a little, nervously.

'Good. Then, turn around and show me your fat ass.'

She follows. There will be no reward for that; she knows. But to her mind maybe, her pain will end a little sooner.

Mikoto moves a little closer, so that the tip of her stick approaches the pink opening in between two meaty cheeks. With her hand holding the thick shaft, she pushes her very sensitive hole against the tiny hole she yearns to penetrate. The contrast is just staggering. This hole, the Chinese finger trap, seems in no way able to fit the bulk of gigantic, throbbing hotdog in without being broken first. Mikoto sees this, but she isn't concerned. If a fist can fit in a virgin pussy, her stick should also be able to fit inside the ass-pussy.

Maybe she will break it, but that will just be even better. She just wants pleasure, and the agony of the other party... shall just be a desirable by-product.

'I'm coming in!'

Pressing the tip against the hole, she starts putting force on her waist. The hole gradually expands, as the thinner part of the tip gets sucked in. With a loud sweet moan, Mikoto takes in a big breath and thrusts with all her might.

'Ah... Haaa...'

The pain is excruciating, but having lost the strength to scream, what comes out of Misaki's mouth can hardly be told apart from the moan Mikoto is letting out of her mouth with every thrust. It feels like her brain has a CPU, and the tremendous amount of agony has overloaded it, slowing numbing its sensitivity to pain and suppressing its ability to function. Although her body is still functioning with her heart pumping fast to keep blood flowing, her mind is shutting down to avoid it being broken completely. The sounds from her mouth faint away, and consciousness leaves her.

Mikoto doesn't notice that. She is too engrossed in her thrusting, in having her stick wrapped tightly in the warmth. It feels ten times better than when she stuffed it in Kuroko's pussy, but the guilt is strong enough to prevent her from recalling that night. Just after a few seconds, she reaches her climax. She sticks it all the way in as a strange pain explodes at the tip, and loads of semen quickly fill up the place.

She pulls it out, panting, exhausted. Looking at Misaki whose face is rested against the wall, Mikoto chuckles.

'Passed out already, eh?'

Reaching for Misaki's sling bag, she takes out the remote control, the source of Mental Out's power. And with just a bit of electricity, that power can now be reaped by the Railgun.

There's one thing Mikoto knows for sure: Kuroko must never have to suffer at this girl's hands.

Although this is a bit hard to do, it is still possible. With some electromagnetic manipulation, she filters out the negative parts of Misaki's personality, the part that drives her sadistic urges, and deletes them, permanently.

After she's done with that, she gazes at the motionless face for a long time. She knows she's done with her main task, but there is... something missing.

'Ah! "Leave no evidence behind", right?'

It's not like that matters, actually. The point is, she very much would like the painful memories to linger a little. But then, it's better to be safe on this after all.

By just a click at the button, Misaki can no longer recall what happened at this public toilet. She will still suffer from all the wounds for days to come, but she will never know who has inflicted all that pain.

But Mikoto will remember, however, whether she likes it or not. The sun is about to set, its blood spewing onto the horizons. Bright yellow sits at the tips of the row of skyscrapers, and it fades out into orange, red and then meets the dark side of the sky with purple. Walking in the alley, she faces darkness, departing the light.

Time passes by, and the already dim place gets even darker. Wind, cold and soundless, pokes at the nape and fills her clothes, giving her goosebumps. Her heart is racing, as she walks faster and faster. Something is chasing her; she can feel it from the chill along her spine. Someone is calling for her; she can hear the distant sound of desolate wailing. She turns, but there's no one, and those feelings disappear too. But when she starts walking again, those feelings return instantly.

'Who's there?!'

As Mikoto walks, she asks nervously. As expected there is no response, but the silence makes the trepidation worse. The chill expands to cover her entire back as if it is covered in ice, and the cries become louder and louder like the person is flying towards her.

No, that's wrong. The sounds are no longer from the outside. They have entered her, but their volume does not alter a single bit. It is the same continuous murmur, although this time she can hear the words.

Help... Help me...

It's... Kuroko's voice.

Mikoto is trembling, in her body and in her eyes.

It's... so much pain...

Mikoto looks around frantically, but again she can't see anybody.

Help me, Onee-sama...

Fear is fuel heated by simmering frustration, and that last word, is the spark.

'FUCKING COME OUT ALREADY!'

This must be a prank, a sick prank to make her feel guilty. Mikoto is convinced; she will force out the one making the noise, no matter what it takes. Electricity explodes from her body, reverberating across the two walls and hence intensifies. Her round eyes look at the ground, as the world around gets wrapped in a deadly white. Although she stands her ground, her legs are getting weak with the colossal amount of power she's putting to work. She said she wanted the source of the sound to come out, but that doesn't at all look like the case. The reach of her power outbreak extends to a hundred metres away in the alley, and within this length even concrete walls are charred black.

She really isn't interested to find out where the sound comes from. The only thing that matters to her right now, is to obliterate the messenger along with the message.

The storm goes on and on, as it shatters windows and scorches walls. She quickly runs out of energy to send from her body, but with every scream that comes out of her mouth, she gathers even more power from the static charges in the air and the cables from power lines connecting households. Then, as she depletes even that source, she finally stops the rampage.

'Ha... Ha...'

Gathering the breath is a struggle, but at least, the sound is gone now, isn't it?

'Take that... you bastard... What do you... have to say now?...'

She looks behind, though she knows she will see no one. But then, she hears a rumbling again. It shifts from her left ear to her right, and it seems to sound on both sides at the same time.

Onee-sama... I'm in so much pain... and yet... what have you been doing? Hiku...

Words vanish and wails are all can be heard, and the imagery of Kuroko's face, covered with tears rolling down her cheeks, is way too much. She wants the sound to stop, she wants her ears to be deaf, but the rumbling in her ears has no end and takes no pause. Her hair stands on end, a symptom of her shattered heart and her trembling soul. She starts running, out of the alley, onto the main street and along the alternating light and doom.

I'm sorry... I'm sorry Kuroko... I'm coming to you now... Please stop crying... Please, stop crying already...

Tears escape her eyes, for she's finally realised, the burden of her debt.

Judgement 177th branch is tranquil, filled with only the dull sound of the air-conditioner. Most of the room is dark, for only one lamp is lit, shining the small area in front of the desk it is on. Following the light it is easy to find two girls. One of them has a slender, well-proportioned body, with her chest lying flat moving up and down with each breath. She's rested on the lap of the other girl, who in comparison appears slightly less compact. Her laptop is placed on the first girl's belly, as she hits the keyboard furiously. Since Kuroko is injured and asleep, she cannot do her part of the paperwork, which Uiharu has to take over now. Even though the burden has become much heavier, it's not like she will feel any regret, especially since it has always been Kuroko doing most of the work.

Having just done typing the last paragraph of a report, she lets out a relieved sigh and slides her fingers on the mouse touchpad to click the 'submit' button. But then, a large bang grabs the attention. As she looks in that direction, she sees a brown-haired girl looking around anxiously.

'Ah, Misaka-san,' Uiharu says softly, rather surprised, 'You're finally here.'

'Where... Where's Kuroko?'

'Shh...' Uiharu reminds, with a finger on her lips, 'she's asleep.'

'Ah, sorry.'

The stone hanging in Mikoto finally lands, as she looks at Kuroko's peaceful face.

And the sound in her ears, finally stops.

She kneels on the floor, and her fingers slide across Kuroko's smooth cheek.

'This is good... This is so good...'

'Misaka-san? Are you all right?'

'Mm Hmm,' she says, rubbing her eyes with her hands. 'Can you help me get her on my back?'

'Sure.'

Mikoto turns around on the floor, and Uiharu lifting Kuroko up to get her onto the back. Carefully, Mikoto holds Kuroko's butt and stands up.

'Then, I shall get going,' Mikoto says, walking towards the door.

'Okay. Take care!'

But instead of stepping out of the office straight, she stops at the doorstep.

'What's up?'

Mikoto waits a few moments. 'Thanks, Uiharu-san.'

'You're welcome.' Mikoto can't see it, but she still gives a bright beam. If she recalls correctly, this is the first time Mikoto calls her by her name during this brief exchange.

Why is that so? That's a good question, but she doesn't want to explore it.

She doesn't dare, to know better of Railgun's motives.

The street is busy, with groups of students making full use of the last few minutes before the city-wide curfew start. But Mikoto can't see all those people. The happiness of the others and the prosperity of the outside world can't create a single dapple on the lake of her heart, for it is sealed dead in a block of ice by the sorrow of the self and the desolation of her inner being. Although Kuroko is safe, although she has done her job, there is something, something that is lost that she cannot replenish. There's something she can never undo, and that is the fact that she has put Kuroko through suffering.

'Onee-sama...'

Instead of the hollow cries she heard in the alley, this time the sound is real - she knows this because of the vibration on her eardrum and the warmth of the currents of breaths coming out of Kuroko's mouth.

'Yeah, Kuroko?'

Mysteriously Kuroko's voice has a calming effect. It is the spring wind that arrives at a frozen land, bringing some heat that melts the snow. It is so precious, the heat that can finally bring life back to this abandoned place. The land reaches out trying to grip the warm currents, but at the last second it hesitates, fearing that it would destroy what good is left.

'Onee-sama... Did you... save me?'

The clouds dissipate, revealing the brilliant sunshine hidden behind. It is glaring and scorching, and the ice-sealed lake finally sees the first light as the creaks have finally become enough for the surface to break away. Snow is melting, and together they form a tiny stream, trickling downhill.

'I... I'm sorry... I let you get injured...'

Something is resisting this warmth, as if it is too foreign to be accepted into this plot of land. Winds from the north barrels down the latitudes and tries to drive the spring away, and dark clouds rush to try and block the sun.

'It's okay, Onee-sama. I don't blame you at all...'

Mikoto wants warmth in her heart; she wants to take in Kuroko's words, and she wants to talk to her just like this. But something, something is stopping her from doing that. There's guilt, though Kuroko doesn't blame her; there's anger, though she is the least justified to be angry; there's even the desire to shut Kuroko, though the deepest part of her heart desires to be with her. Pain is hitting her in her lower abdomen, apparently at where the thing has grown on her. She stops walking, as the sensation grows, threatening to take her over any moment.

'In fact, Kuroko thinks she's incredibly lucky... just by having you at her side...'

'Stop... Please stop...'

She isn't even sure if she's talking to Kuroko or to the pain in her body. It's tearing her apart, the desire to be with Kuroko, and the extreme emotions boiling all over her body. She keeps breathing, but that is no use. Second by second, it becomes ever clearer that her body, is no longer hers.

When light explodes from Railgun's body, there is no sound that comes from the centre. The few nearby pedestrians, having seen nothing like this before, quickly ran away screaming like mad monkeys. The electric ball slowly expands and engulfs everything within a radius of fifty metres, and it lasts for an entire ten seconds.

The pain in Mikoto's body finally subsides, as she feels an emptiness at her lower abdomen, the place where all this sensation came from. As she looks up, she sees debris, and a Kuroko lying flat on the floor motionless.

'Kuroko...'

Don't tell me...

She quickly crawls towards the younger girl, shaking her arms as she says in a pleading voice.

'Kuroko. Kuroko!'

There is still no response, and at the skin she can touch, she can feel no bioelectric pulses.

'KUROKO!'

TO BE CONTINUED