A/N: This chapter contains descriptions of injuries and blood. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 9:

Ripples to Waves

On a perfectly fine afternoon.

(Train Station.)

[Takeru]

"Takeru-chan, you sure it's okay to go have fun now? What about your studies?"

You sound like my Mom, by the gods! "If you're so worried you can leave before we get on the train."

"That's not what I… Oh, whatever," she shrugs, a hand readjusting the grip on the bag for the umpteenth time as she again huddles closer while we wait for the train. "So, how's everything? Feeling fine?"

I nod and smile. "A-OK, no problems. Hey Sumika, random question. What did I ask you to bring yesterday?"

"Huh? The guidebook you lent me some time ago? I got it here, don't worry," she shows me the magazine folded in her bag, no sluggishness in the answer or gestures.

So she does remember, clearly at that. It's been, what? The tournament was on the 5th, so it's been eleven days already. I think it's safe to say I'm in the clear now since no accidents have happened yet. I exhale, relaxing my shoulders. Feels as if I got under a warm shower after a really long day. Taking in the busy murmur of the station, the light that filters in, the pleasant freshness of summer in the wind…

Sigh… My fight is over.

Eventually, the train arrives, we enter along the stream of passengers, then start enduring the metamorphosis into canned sardines for the time being. Once we depart from the coffin that was the train and get to the arcade, before crossing the street we see Miki and Mikoto already waiting for us.

"Takeru, Sumika-san, how you doing?" he shouts and waves along Miki from the other side while we wait for the light, only his hand almost blurs amidst the intensity of his salute.

"As impatient as ever, heh."

"Look who's talking," Sumika stabs at me, smirking and colliding shoulders again.

"Oi, at least I don't go shouting in the middle of the street anymore."

"Says the guy who started infodumping all over me about the lore of his favorite game," she counters, giving out a subdued chuckling.

Before I can retort, she laughs and crosses the street. Sigh… Yeah, as lively as ever. As peaceful as it always should have been. I'll let your impudence slide this time, Sumika-kun.

"Good afternoon Yoroi-kun," she greets with the trademarked radiant smile. "Hey, Miki-chan," Sumika then takes out and gives her the guidebook while burying the smile, switching into a solemn expression, "I bequeath onto you the sacred scriptures."

Which makes Miki tilt her head, giving a cute and confused groan as her brows narrow. "What? Sacred?"

"It's a guidebook with a lot of info about the last updates of the game," I say in my hype voice, pumping a fist. "It would be boring if you didn't recognize which mech is which. It also has a very nice section of beginner tips, to give you an idea of what to expect when you get to play."

Her smile blossoms wide, the sauntpaulias that grew in the base sure had a stellar role model. "Thanks a lot, Takeru-san! Sumika-san, do you know how to play Valgern-On?"

"Not really, I just tag along. I know the controls but I'm not that good."

"For real, I could beat her without even doing any combos."

"Shut it, Takeru-chan. You and your cheap tactics won't trip me up this time!"

"…I mean, if you can't beat a simple crouch-kick spam then you're pretty much boned, dude."

"Mmgh… Don't get all cocky just because you know how to use your special moves and all," she pouts, slapping at my arm a few times, for a grand total of zero damage.

"Alright, I guess me and Takeru will have to do some tutoring first," Mikoto reasons, nodding. "Takeru, do we leave testing our new GR Cards for after we show 'em the ropes?"

"Yeah, of course. Though, remember that we can't give any specifics about-"

"But man, I wonder what the exclusive bonuses are!" he shouts, rebounding upon himself, ignoring me at large. "I checked the net and there hasn't been any talk about this, you know!"

"Sigh… Ahaha. Yeah, I know. But remember Mikoto, we can only share the replays. And only us get to use the new cards," I scold, dousing the glitched wobbling.

"Yeah, yeah, but I still can't wait," he admits, scratching his head and giggling. "Miki-san can settle on her mech while we're in there, so let's go already. Before all the terminals get occupied!" Mikoto declares in threat, rushing into the arcade as if departing for a laserjagd. Only for his rampant stride to clash against a rampart of yelling.

It seems people are recognizing him, asking for autographs and tips on the game. Of course they will, some of the regulars here are diehard fans of the-

"OOOOOHHHHH IT'S SHIROGANE-SAMAAAAAAA!"

Wait, what?

And before I can react, I'm left in the center of a human twister. Hands and eyes reach out, squeezing me and the other two like fish in a barrel. The crazed twister asks for autographs, pictures, game tips, and who knows what else. After a little while, I stomp the floor, tensing my stomach to let my words boom out, demanding the people to give us some space. With minimal delay, the sea parts ways and forms a path for us to follow to the arcade, a few wobbling like jelly as I stare at the twister of people. Sumika elbows me, groaning a bit, and after a shrug I take the lead into the place. Luckily, there's no more forceful requests. The guys inside literally step aside for us to use whatever terminal we want in exchange of an autograph or a request for a match later, the owner even says he'll let us play for free if we let him take a picture of us in one of the terminals, since he'll use it as advertisement for his arcade.

"However, we cannot share anything about our matches," I affirm mid-speech, giving him a bow. "As I said-"

"No, no, I understand," the man nods, waving down and never losing the smile. "I'll make sure no one bothers you four over the special content, it wouldn't be the first time we've had some fans fighting over premium units in this game."

"Wait, for real?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Mikoto chimes in, nodding and folding his arms, lips shrugged. "Some of the new units and weapons introduced over time were tournament prizes before, and I heard that ante matches were being held in arcades over the units."

"How does that even work? I mean, it's all digital right?"

"Yeah, you gotta enter the usual battle royale mode, but instead of battle you select the maintenance option. Besides checking out upgrades or unlocking new parts with the points you win, there is also the option to trade what weapons you have with other players," he tells, heaving a sigh. "It made some matches rather aggressive, since some of the new inclusions were head and shoulders better than all available gear, even when you'd level your default weapons' XP to the max."

"Yes, the lad is right," the owner nods, rubbing his beard. "At first, they issued the prizes in special e-reader cards, but the add-on never caught on. Anyways, we've a policy to keep things civil here and ante matches are banned to avoid any beef from getting out of hand. So feel free to use your special rewards, I'm sure the regulars will appreciate the show."

"Thanks, and sorry for the inconvenience," I give a bow, despite his intent to use this as free advertising he isn't forcing us to share privy intel, or even pay for the runs.

The man smiles and chuckles, heartily, as he gives a nod. "Ha! And I thought you youngsters were all lacking manners! Knock yourselves out, and don't worry, it's on the house!" he waves, still sporting a giant grin as he leaves.

"…I can't believe he praised Takeru-chan's manners," Sumika comments, oh, so foul words towards my fair person.

"Maybe his sight is going bad?" Miki suggests, giggling along, despicably joining forces in an attempt to discredit my good name.

"No, he just knows better," I counter, pushing my chest out in righteousness, ready to strike down the draconian devils which now brandish pouts instead of smiles. "So, did you guys decide what you'll play with?"

"Yeah, Miki-chan will use a Freikugel and I'll try my hand at the Kaizer."

"Well, sounds good enough. Mikoto, are you ready to- Mikoto?"

To our right, a human wall was surrounding him, signing autographs, t-shirts, and who knows what junk else. Aw, there's even a young kid asking him for pointers.

"Sure is hard to be popular," can't help but to chuckle at him, waving my brows when our sights cross and his eyes wail in a plea of support.

"Shouldn't you go help him, Champion Number Two?" Sumika suggests while corking a brow, nudging me from behind.

"Sigh… Fine, fine."

"Uwah, didn't even flinch at being called number two," she retorts, the antenna having a minute interference.

"Heh, unlike you Sumika-kun I have matured quite much as of late," raising my chin, I smirk at her groans. Shrugging, I approach Mikoto before she starts to take it personally.

A moment of handling tips about, a small conversation with other regulars later, and an autograph that incites a supernova in the little kid's eyes, we're finally free.

"Man, you were right, Takeru," he sighs, a hand rooted at the base of his neck. "Being recognized sure is a toll."

"Told ya so. Still, it ain't that bad, right?"

"Yeah! It's kinda embarrassing though, having young kids looking up to you like that. So, are we ready to begin?" he asks, Miki and Sumika nod.

Our preliminary training session goes rather uneventfully, with Miki scoring a decent enough performance for her very first time using the Frei, preying upon the shadow of the Xao with quite the intensity amidst the mostly even terrain of Waskaran. Those marksmanship skills sure are getting put to good use, if it weren't Mikoto with his agile style another player might have gotten sniped outta the game.

However…

"What do you mean, 'blockhead'?!" Sumika wails, landing repeated punches on my shoulder, that total to a grand amount of one damage.

"I told you the mech would explode if you crashed onto a hard surface, and you still charged ahead in the narrow pathway."

"I didn't. I only tried to give chase with the levers, but the thing just sent itself away into the mountain."

"Sumika, boost jumping is not the same as dashing. That's why they are locked to different levers. If you want to boost dash in midair, you just gotta do the inputs in one breath to avoid the extra speed from screwing you over while only doing half a tilt with the joysticks."

"It's impossible! My wrists would fall off!"

"I can do it, proof enough."

"Oh, yeah, boast while you can," pouting again, that rebel antenna sparks away. "And anyways, why did you kept spinning like that? You were just styling on me!" puffing both cheeks to the brim, loudly blaring away she keeps on punching me, still amounting to a single digit of total damage.

"I was not, you stupid idiot. Your attacks seemed decent enough, you just gotta be mindful of how you fly about."

Ironically enough, I think the Elef would be a good suit for her. Without having to worry about coordinating boost jumps and air dodges, she can instead simply focus on attacking. Kind of like what the 00 Unit did last loop. Her boost dash wasn't half bad, but Sumika simply knows no spacing. There's no need to get all hardcore on her, so pointing her to what better suits her basic response to the gameplay will let her enjoy the day the most, I think.

"Really?" she asks, halting her silly strikes. "You're not messing with me?"

"Ha, come on. Chill out, I ain't pulling your leg or anything. Oh, Mikoto's out. Hey, you almost got done in back there!" I salute him lazily, chuckling to his groans.

"Miki-san has potential, you know," he grimly notes while slowly coming closer, both hands joining. "Letting my guard down was really careless, she almost gave my Xao a new haircut."

"Come on," she waddles towards us, sinking into the ground to avoid eye contact, "I was lucky, is all," the puddle she has become so purrs.

"No, no, you were a nice obstacle to try and beat, Miki-san. Maybe you could join us to become an actual team?" he suggests, and we all chuckle at the boiling bubbles that surface in her expression as she stutters.

"Who would have said that the cat got her tongue got?"

"T-Takeru-san, you meanie! Don't tease me!" she wails, lips pursing inwards as if drinking tea with salt, strawberries for cheeks.

Mikoto smirks, nodding along. "I bet she was trying to deceive us, to hide her true skill. But I guess now that Miki-san's out of the box."

"Yoroi-kun, not you too!" she pleads, turning see-through as a specter.

"Come on, don't bully Miki-san, you two," Sumika smacks our napes, we keep on chuckling, bumping our fists as Miki's lips squirm while sealing further little groans. "Well, since we already got the basics, why don't we play together, Miki-san?"

"Ah, yeah, let's!" clearing her throat and regaining the usual blooming cheer, she nods.

"Guess that means it's time to test our new cards!" Mikoto cheers, a galaxy exploding within each eye. "Come on, Takeru. Hurry, hurry," he demands, trying and failing to pull me towards the sims.

I let out a sigh, laughing at the excited exertion he enforces yet encounters no effect from the effort. Shrugging once he desists, taking a look around to ensure no one odd is gonna try anything, all I find are sparkling gazes awaiting the show, and the little kid from before pointing at us, barely restrained by the steadfast lock of who I assume is his older brother. Sigh… Well, let's take a go and see what's our reward for the tournament. Smiling as Miki and Sumika pump their fists and declare their vile support to Mikoto, I allow the pull of those slender arms to spur me towards the sims.

Entering the seat and fastening the harness, I take out the special GR card we won in the tournament, which is clearly marked to belong to the new version. Instead of the usual shades of blue, this one takes on a clear purple tint with lines of black and the usual hexagons for flavor have that burnt tint I saw in the opening logo of VOOT.

…Gulping, inhaling deep, the small footsteps of ants sing through my back for a second, before I shake my head. Don't focus on that shit. But better safe than sorry, let's scour anything new just to make sure I don't have another attack.

"Alright, here we go. Let's keep a level head, no matter what it is that these rewards turn out to be," taking in a sharp breath and leaning forward, inserting the card causes a ding to echo in my unit's speakers.

While I put the phones in place, the usual startup sequence plays out but the menu doesn't come up as always, the black screen lingers for a few seconds longer, in silence, absolute silence. Along a low and stitched whisper in the back of the synth, the menu pops up with the logo warping to the one of Oratory Tango, the same slow and menacing melody of drums to war coming out to greet. Gulping strong, a small localized quake assails my stomach for a moment. A few deep breaths wash into me as I traverse the menus, soothe the premature discomfort that pikes at me, yet the cold hands over my shoulders do not lift off.

"Hmm… So far there isn't anything new save for a palette swap in the menus. No new songs, no new missions in single player mode either. I wonder if there are any new units availa- Huh?"

In the selection screen, the usual hangar has another row available for picking a unit. While most spots are closed off and vacant, there is a singular machine waiting as I push the controls to select it. Sleeping in a tube filled with some sort of emerald green liquid, a machine I've never seen before awaits.

It resembles the cylinder, a little bit too much.

A darkened plating, a skeletal design. Sleek and sharp hands ending in pointy vampire-like fingers, scythes attached to each forearm and bending backwards, as if holding blades in a reverse grip. The angular frame oozes malevolent intent, the skull its head visor resembles sells it all too well along the creepy grin it would seem to be stuck on. Sharp wings attached on its backside fold inwards, a cocoon of metal over the antique look of the outer modular plating, its rugged surface seeming to be folded over and over, resembling an old medieval armor. Ebon black on most of its body, traces of silver and emerald green decorate part of its inner sides. Along a drowned jingle in the usual hangar BGM, the machine returns a smirk my way as it remains suspended within the cylinder.

"…Skull Kaizer, huh. So this is the bonus I earned…" A vampire reaper unit, going by the extra data available its a supposed upgrade to the original Kaizer that has a 'dangerous secret' by which it has remained locked away from usage.

Considering how much I played the Kaizer, I wonder if the devs loaded this bonus on my card because of that. Still, it's kinda odd. The usually bright and gallant Kaizer looks nothing like this dark, foreboding machine. The aspect itself sells it as some sort of diabolical unit, which contrasts with the origin of the Kaizer and the Raijin as the two original Troopers, the first two hopes of humanity in its conquest of space. Unlike other mechs, you can tell this thing was made for warfare, even if an overblown anime-style one. Still, those scythes for hands look metal as fuck. A reverse grip stance might not work in reality for us humans but with the limber biomechanics of a TSF there is some merit to-

"Hey, Takeru!" Mikoto shouts in joy over the comms, interrupting my observation of the units' stats. "Are you ready? Are you?!"

"Sigh… No, I just found the bonus unit, is all."

"Eh? Just now? What were you doing?"

"I was searching for… any hints in the system, is all."

"Hints of what?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." It's for the better, that I didn't find anything related to the BETA, that the armaments of the Skull Kaizer have nothing to do with my loops. Can't really compare my attempts to employ the reverse grip on my Geki to these scythes, after all. "Well, I'm mostly done with the basics. I assume you're ready to roll?"

"Yeah! Get ready, I already selected the new map available!"

"Oh, you got a map?"

"A map and a new mech! You only got a new unit?"

"Hmm… Is the name of the map 'Capital of Sunsets'?"

"Yeah, that's the one! Anyways, I already selected it as our field, so finish your setup already. Loser pays the drinks!" he cheers, cutting off the call.

Sighing with a slow chuckle, finishing my loadout config and going with the default paint job, I accept the incoming request for a match. The intro sequence reveals an urban layout, even what resembles a traditional castle at the distance just that built in some futuristic, punk-like fashion. So, uh, Neo Japan? Cool, we're canon in Valgern-On. Take that one, natality rates.

In the usual deployment animation my mech flies off, shrieking as its skeletal wings extend and allow it to glide away towards the horizon framed in orange seams of light squeezing through the cracks in walls of graying clouds. The habitual neon green scanlines start to gradually blur the screen into the loading icon, that flashes and pulsates every now and then.

But as everything comes into focus, the timer and all freezes to the habitual presentation, a grand overhead tour of the arena. Thus, a sleek and curved city welcomes my sight. The dissonance between the regal and almost hard to stare at edifications, all decked in the same futuristic aspect as Yguloch, and the rather abundant rows of defensive mechanisms is real hard to ignore. Like, on one end you have holograms in strong neon lights of carps and fireflies coursing through the skyline along a myriad of other equally strong colored rivers of fireworks, bathing the compact hovering city in abundant doses of rainbows. And then there's the gritty and crude metal of the tanks and some mechanized units standing guard over the center of the map, a giant castle that truly does look like one of our customary buildings but only way more cyber than necessary.

"Takeru, check it out!" Mikoto cheers into a squeal. "The models are all in high definition!"

"Except those older units, still look like Stallion One renders to me. Though, the rest looks gorgeous for real."

"Right?! Man, this is gonna be awesome. Well, I sure hope you brought enough to serve us some good stuff later!"

"Right back at ya. Get your game on!"

Chuckling as I start up my jump units, merely moving forward a few steps into the waves of techno lights is enough to spur missiles and cannon shots my way. With barely enough time to take cover, overhead lights and the platinum streets soon drown in dark smoke, the floating neighborhood aiding me chain a few Kulbits and bounces away from the pain rain. Wow, what range. And he's barely at the edge of my radar. Alright, let's speed up and go meet his aggro. And yet, the missiles pierce through the colorful parade up above, almost landing their mark. What the hell is Mikoto even- Huh?

A sharp, almost comically sharp shape. As if made entirely out of triangles.

The machine blurs in sight, taking only a handful of frames to reach my Six. Only a sharp yank of the controls allows me to avoid becoming a pincushion.

Clawing at the controls, releasing the triggers, what I thought would be missiles are actually chainsaws, as the wings spin on themselves and fire off towards Mikoto's unit, as if heat-seeking like the Homings of the Ravager. A panic dodge, a barrel roll compulsed by my spraying volleys, the techno-gardens we're in soon start to burn despite the annoying pop music kicking up as we duke it out under the neon march of the party the city is in.

And yet, as he does his usual dodges into charging cannon shots, as they graze my frame and I gain ground, our crossfire tries and overpowers the festivity of explosive colors in the sky. While I get used to the equally bursting impulse of this machine, the almost bloodthirsty precision of the chainsaw wings or the rifles available, my lips remain molten shut and my tongue fused onto the back of my teeth. Gulping any excess saliva that rises due to me drying my mouth, the slight pressure on my throat or breathing does not ease up. On the contrary, it only grows as I get a good look at his unit of choice when the chainsaw wings force Mikoto into a cancel straight down the soil.

Because this thing looks like a proto Raptor, down to the shape of the head visor. It only lacks the multiple eyes, maybe the legs are also different, and the shoulders too. Its backside has extra boosters, and the jump units emit some sort of light blue hue for some reason. But this… machine looks too much like a TSF, unlike the sick but clearly exaggerated design of the Skull Kaizer or other units from the roster.

Stomping the pedals, my wings fire off to prevent further fleeing. Forcing a panic dodge towards the ground, Mikoto's stride is met with an upwards, straight slash from the scythes, possibly the strongest natural strike of the reverse grip. His modest saber can barely parry, sustaining damage in the process. The lack of muscle resistance, the further liberty of the joints allows the reverse stance to further raise the arms, make the scythes try and meet Mikoto's skin without a compromise of range upon a rough push of the joystick.

"…Shit, still makes my wrists hurt a bit." Even the controls of this aggressive stance remind me of my old trainings. If only the Geki had been more nimble, if only.

Retreating upon a read, shielding my arms before a certain hit cripples me, Mikoto can only return odd volleys, rush through the holograms, under the rising carps and flowers as I glide along blazing fireflies to the march of the synth taiko drums in the BGM.

"Damn, that thing really is a monster!" he complains, rushing away from me, toppling a few poor trees. "Why is the Kaizer suddenly evil?"

"Who knows? Maybe it got tired to be sidelined by the Raijin and unlocked a superpowered evil side?" I chuckle as I burn through the techno-garden, exiting to the city as his frame is already in wait, forcing me to start to spin to dodge the cannons.

"Man, and I thought my mech was fast already," he sighs, his unit landing near an anchor tower.

"…By the way, what's your unit called?"

"Oh, it's called the Kusanagi. Kinda odd, since it doesn't really have any crazy swords," he chuckles, escaping atop a transport moved by the energy rails.

…Never heard of that before. If it was a mirror to the Raptor, then it wouldn't have gotten that name. I mean, the Takemikazuchi is still called that, though. And we've got plenty of references to stuff from overseas, like the Damien. Sigh… Guess I'm just overworrying over nothing. This thing has no stealth either, so yeah, maybe I am.

"What of yours, Takeru?" he asks, lighting up both curiosity and cannons.

"Mine's called the Skull Kaizer, it's really just a forbidden version of the Kaizer."

"Why is it forbidden?"

Smiling small, pressing both triggers into a full boost towards a building, I chuckle.

"Because, you see," janking both levers hard, a single heel going hard onto the pedal.

A twister of dark flies off, cutting through the rainbow festivities, the energy rails.

"Giving a pilot such a fast, aggressive machine," the feet meet the steel, twin volcanoes erupt in unison, the ballista launches itself in a spin, "is clearly a war crime!"

Falling upon the unsuspecting prey, the shadow swallows the light. A sharp screech, sparks bubble out of the steel, from mid-green to straight orange numbers. Mikoto staggers backwards, the cannon shots are released out of necessity, the charge not full, easy to avoid.

The first swing of the scythe misses, the follow up finds a parry. A feet kicks forward, its sharpened shape colliding against the Kusanagi's own feet, breaking its balance, its attempt to shoot at point-blank. A hasty backboost, its ceiling shaved by suppression fire, allows me to still see the red circle of the lock-on. Another stomp on the pedal, a sharp push of the lever and triggers, the specter slides forward in a sidestep, again seeking the cockpit in an upwards slash.

Piercing through, oil and metal scatters through the air, my already dark machine falls further to obscurity as Mikoto explodes behind me.

And extending both chainsaw wings, making them spin and shriek, the Skull Kaizer itself roars to the overhead party of lights, arms clawing at the sky.

"Hell yeah! Core-kill!" I cheer, pumping a fist.

"Aw, what the hell?! Another one, you just got lucky!" he protests immediately, I can practically hear the pout and fire oozing from his expression.

"Sure, sure. Still, nice mechs these new units turned out to be, right? I sure prefer these fast types instead of stuff like the Elef or the Raijin."

"Oh, yeah. Didn't expect both to be faster than a Ravager, but you didn't even let me use its special weapon!" he spits acid, still groaning.

"For real? Mine has the scythes, the chainsaw wings, and a special beam blaster I didn't use yet. What does yours have?"

"Most of its weapons are the old versions we already have but a bit better, but it has a small railgun!"

"Really? A… small railgun?"

"Yeah, not an OTH model but the demonstrator version. I wanted to blast you with it so badly… It ain't fair to use Albrights!"

"Hehehe, would you be requesting me to hold my hand against you, Mikoto-kun? My, how far have we fallen!"

"Ugh… You stupid idiot. Rematch, now!"

We then play some more matches, I end up defeating Mikoto twice. Sumika and Miki seem to be having a lot of fun too fighting against each other, receiving honest tips from some of the regulars too. After letting a few of them spar against me and Mikoto, we decide to do a two man battle with Sumika and me versus Mikoto and Miki. Sadly, despite my valiant efforts, during the crossfire I am brutally backstabbed by Sumika, who lands a fully charged ballistic shot at my core and squashes my Take as if it were a small bug under the fire of a shotgun.

If she actually tried to do that she wouldn't be able to do it, but of course when she DOESN'T have to…

"Takeru-chan, don't look so angry, please? I'll pay the lunch, okay?" Sumika gives me a little bow, apologetic like a little puppy hiding its nose, trying to stop my epic pouting maneuver and failing miserably at it.

"Not even Mikoto could land such a hit! How on earth did you hit my core from that far away?!"

"I dunno! I just started button mashing because I forgot which combos to use!"

"You just had to push the first trigger to give me some support. Why did you push both triggers and the lever? And why did you aim at me when you were charging?!"

"I was aiming at Yoroi-kun! You're the one that was jumping around super fast. I didn't even see you!"

"You bastard, I don't think anyone has ever done such a good shot with the laser ballista either. And to waste it on your partner…" That really was a nice shot. If she hadn't hit me with it, I'd be showering her in compliments. Ironic, too, considering she was the one who made the particle cannon work in the other side.

"What do you mean, 'you bastard'?! I was doing my best to help you!" she starts punching me lightly while pouting. She's really cute when she's flustered. Sadly, she's also so much louder.

"Ahaha! That was truly something else. Who would say Takeru-san would end up being defeated by his partner?" Miki joins in the teasing with a light smile. My child, how much have you grown.

"Totally! Sumika-san, the partner killer! You already have a nickname!" Mikoto gives Sumika a thumbs up. You're probably mad that she took me out when I bested you more times in our sparring.

"Don't go giving me weird names, Yoroi-kun!" she makes her pouting face as she whines at Mikoto.

"Ahahahaha, he's right though." I can't help but to laugh. We all start laughing.

Today's been really fun. This is how things should have always been. I really shouldn't have let my emotions ruin our reunion at the salon.

Yeah… This is my life. I finally got my peace back.

We stay in the arcade for a while longer, playing other games. Mikoto again beat me in the racing one, and we got Miki and Sumika some plushies from the cranes. All of us enjoyed ourselves, looks like. Feels good to let loose after so long. Stopping to eat something at a family restaurant, sharing jokes and jabs, we chill for a while before making our way to the station.

Talking shit and fooling around, just joking and laughing. Sumika pouting as we tag teamed on her about how she killed me in the games, encouraging Miki back to a blooming smile as her features clouded over when mentioning her archery rematch was getting closer, and simply going off tangents with Mikoto. Laughing away, having fun under the bright sun and the pleasant breeze, enjoying some nice drinks as we walk the busy streets.

The station comes into view, the stream of people thickens. So we stop on a street as the light turns red. The buzz of the place drowns everything as the cars blur by in the street, the sky already losing its strong cerulean color as the sun seems to be done with today's shift, preparing to sink into the horizon shortly. The orange to pink tint rebounds off the glass of all the buildings around as much as the chatter, the normalcy of it all allows a deep sigh to come out.

Yeah, it always was meant to be this way. The circumstances over there made us forget what this looked like, even on the subsequent years of my loops. Certainly, this pleasant atmosphere will return to that side in due time. I suppose, hoping for Kasumi to be alright is all I can do, the only lingering regret at this point. No matter how much I spin things, I doubt the XO would have allowed for other events to happen, and even if now I can see a solution to some issues that what the current me sees, the one that somewhat recalls most things, not who I was at the time.

…Sigh. Yeah, I don't think I'll ever accept Ouka as a personal victory, but I can be proud to have shot the cannon. To have honored their sacrifice when it truly mattered. I can only hope… the brief time we spent together last loop gave you all something worth treasuring back then, as short as those months were. I can only hope and pray… that the XO and Kasumi will live a decent life to see and enjoy the positive difference we made, for them to not fall prey to another Iceberg situation.

Amidst the noise of the street, idling a hand on my hair, I take it all in. The bright orange tint in the sky, the pleasant clarity in the air, the calm yet hurried entanglement of voices all around. Smiling a bit, I look up at the light that remains red as the counter gets closer and closer to zero, while the guys go on a tangent about campus.

Hm? Is it… The thing seems to be quivering a bit? It's faint but constant, so my eyes aren't playing tricks on me.

Even the glass on the store behind it seems to be wobbling a bit, the mannequins showing off clothes are also kind of shaking slightly. As I turn around to ask the guys, a tremor shakes under my feet. It rises, a small whisper becoming clear to my ear, the tickle of the unstability poking at my heels. Frozen in place by the shaking, reminded of charging BETA, I look around.

People stop walking, the overwhelming buzz of chatter stops short, Sumika and the others almost stumble, the shaking grows stronger, louder.

A slow crack surfaces in the nearby glass, mannequins headbutt it as they fall, yelps and shouts spread like fire over a well lit fuse. And outta nowhere, the roaring below shrieks into a full-on rumbling as if the Destroyers were marching on us, growing more violent in a matter of seconds, my heels almost slipping away.

"A-An earthquake?!" Now of all times?!

The land shakes with a raging fury, leaving me no choice but to back away from the street, my feet entangling and sending my back crashing against the roughness of a wall. It's not stopping, it's getting more and more violent. Glasses shatter, little children start crying yet are drowned by manic shouts, some cars have to stop suddenly, almost starting a chain of crashes.

Simply trying to force palm the ground to stand sends burning tension through all of my lower back, I can barely stand as it is. What about the others?!

My gaze moves up, scanning the nearby area.

A shadow slowly tilts above me, covering what little sunlight was coming down.

A lightpost is falling, falling towards the sidewalk.

Right where Miki, Sumika and Mikoto are wobbling, trying not to fall.

Standing as still as possible as they look up, up at the falling shadow, at the power lines that break away and spark down their gavel towards them.

"Move away, you idiots!"

Crashing heels against the rumbling, I send myself against them.

Hitting them all away, tackling them in full force strong enough to also send me against a trash can or something, crashing face first onto it.

Gritting my teeth, coughing a bit, my shoulders grow narrow as a fierce impact falls and cracks the already loud blanket of screams. Pieces of the road hit my face as it gets splintered by the falling lightpost. But the ground is still shaking, so I can't walk properly. My feet waver, slipping from the floor when I try and raise.

And yet, another tearing noise echoes through. While looking up, a minute glare of sunlight meets my eyes, many of them in fact.

A rain of glass, of shards broken by the quake.

Along the whip of another shadow, a convulsion of sparks, the cables that dangle and squirm in midair.

Inhaling sharply, I raise and rush, extending a hand, clawing at the air, trying to reach those three that cower in confusion.

Yet the quake is still raging, and my feet hit themselves. Feeling contact on my fingers, I pull with all I have as I fall, hitting my teeth against the ground.

Lying on the floor, something warm reaches my face. As my eyelids fight the itching and burning, as they slowly open up again I rub my face and find no injuries. But I find what has made contact with me, what was dirtying my face.

And in my fingertips, I see red. Blood, not darkened but bright.

Blood is dripping into the cracks the fall had opened in the ground.

Blood is drenching the green overalls Miki was wearing, arms and limbs assailed by glass as if bolted to a medieval torture table. Slowly coming out like a half-closed tap, the red soon pools from under the clothes, soon followed by tiny, tiny wails, tiny, tiny tears.

On the other end of my vision, almost in unison in the acknowledgment, the falling sparks whip at a slender back, causing a small halo of electricity to shoot out, as fast as the body thus collapses to the ground. Sprawled loosely like a puppet with its strings cut, Mikoto lays face first on the road. A hole burned in the middle of his back where the impact took place, a thin thread of smoke raising. While the cables dance and swirl in the ground for a moment, he doesn't move a single bit, not acknowledging the pain in his back, not even squirming however slightly.

"A-Aaaahhh!" Sumika, that I had managed to grab and pull towards me, shrieks and recoils into my hold. "Nooo! Miki-chan, Y-Yoroi… A-ah… Ugh- Kgh-" gagging on empty air, jaw crushing ice cubes unseen, she shakes her head time and again, time and again.

What the fuck is going on here?

Is this another daydream? For things to so suddenly go to hell and back…

No, I am fully conscious.

The pain in my teeth, all over my jaw, the slight red trickle down my chin and the mini pond it causes where I kissed the ground as I fell. Touching my lips spurs fire from them, a tiny movement from the roots, red stains on my fingertips, pooling from in between a few teeth perhaps.

Equally burning is the choking Sumika is enduring as she cries, and wails, and pleads for this to stop, clawing at me a bit tighter every second. Equally hurt are those groans that are drowned by the quake, equally still is that shape that remains still and stiff on the ground.

This has to be the cause of a leak, right? There is no other explanation. Sure, cruelty can happen at any given time but…

Are they… going to die? Again?

The image of the Superior turning her into a Soldier-Class returns. Fire comes through my throat, yet I gag on the searing. Hands start shaking worse than the ground, but again, I can't even cry nor look away.

"Nooo! I don't wanna be eaten!" a tiny voice pleads, stitching every syllable amidst shallow breaths.

"T-The joints got stuck! The system isn't responding!" another equally small voice shrieks, faint clicking noises coming through as well.

And in the end, she ended up mangled by the Tanks.

And in the end, she ended up electrocuted to the failure of her Gekishin's system.

But this, what I'm seeing right now, is not one of my daydreams. This isn't yesterday, it's today.

This is no nightmare.

…This is causality, again trying to fuck me over, to kill you with that death data. It's too similar to Iceberg, and from what the Superior showed me…

…Are you telling me I can't do anything but stand and watch as they die again?

That all those sacrifices weren't enough?

That now this world also has to suffer through all that madness?!

"Sumika, listen to me well," I order, standing up with a stomp, softly cupping her cheeks and staring into her eyes. "I need you to go and do CPR to Mikoto, now. You know how to do that, right?"

"…Eh?"

"I'm saying, we need to give them both first aid, now. Can I leave Mikoto to you?" I ask, bending my knees to not fall to the rumbling below.

"W-What… I- I don't- What do you want me to-"

"Snap out of it! I get you're scared but they're gonna die if we do nothing!"

Her eyes shrink, cowering away. Softening my grip on her face, taking one good deep breath while resting my fingers on her shoulders, I give her some seconds to breathe in, dampness surfacing in her eyes.

"Please, Sumika… I-I can't tend to both at the same time."

"I'll… try, I'll try…" she repeats under her breath, a few times more as she leans on me to stand. "Pump the chest, breathe into the lips, then keep pumping the chest?"

"Yeah, correct. His jaw might be stuck due to the shock, if you can't open it I'll do it. He… isn't in contact with the cable, and it didn't get stuck to the skin, thankfully. But we can't idle by, okay?"

"Ye-Yes… I'll do- do what I can," she gives a convulsing nod, I smile her way. "W-What should I do?"

"Keep pumping his chest more than anything, giving him air every now and then. You can use some of my water, try and cover the burn with a slice of clothing for the moment."

"Ye-Yes… But Miki-chan is- She's losing so- so much blood- Ugh…"

Patting her shoulder, inhaling sharply, I exhale venom as I look at both of them. "Don't worry, we just need to improvise a tourniquet."

"What? But how are we even-"

"Leave it to me," I nod her way, not breaking eye contact until she returns the gesture. Turning around, I stomp through the subduing shaking towards Miki. "If you get a tingly sensation on your legs, stay away though. Wait until it's safe to approach him, okay?"

Seeing Sumika stumble towards Mikoto, waiting before crouching besides, hesitantly turning him around, again clamping a hand to her lips before trying to open his, to start the process, I rip my shirt away, take my belt off and look for anything broken, anything to tie the thing with. Looking at her well, all of her limbs are hurt, glass encrusted into the skin, a constant trickle of red gushing through. While smaller, there are also cuts on her neck and forehead, that thankfully are not oozing dangerous amounts of blood. Thankfully, the shards missed her face and neck, perhaps because she shielded herself with both arms.

"…Miki, can you hear me?" I whisper while crouching, grazing a cheek with my fingers.

"It hurts… C-Can't move, it burns…"

"It's gonna be okay, don't worry. Just… leave it to me, okay?"

Come on, breathe in, recall your training. They're not dead yet, I can save them. Remember… remember well…

"Treat it like an injured pigeon, Takeru. You wouldn't crush them in your hands, but you still need to hold them firmly. Move your hands with that sturdy softness while treating an injury, and don't forget to cheer the patient up!" the booming voice retells, as she had done when I had to retake my First Aid class after freaking out in front of her when meeting for the first time.

Halt the source of the stream, towards the shoulders or the groin. D-Do I have anything to sterilize the wounds? Oh, I have the bottle of water I was drinking as we walked. Calling Sumika, she throws the bottle in a rush, almost hitting my head, shaking and quivering as if she were deprived of all modesty and left in the middle of Siberia. And yet, the ground isn't shaking anymore. Sigh…

Ignoring the rampant chaos around me, the rising cries and sirens, I belatedly lower my fingertips to the wounds, smiling towards the gaze that remains dazed. "Don't cry, everything's going to be fine. Help is already on the way."

Don't tie it on the joint, some centimeters above the injury.

"It's going to be alright, Miki. We just need to get you to a hospital, and everything will be fine," I whisper as I slowly raise an arm, enveloping it in the torn pieces of my shirt.

Firmly tight, but not painful. Slide a solid object to stabilize the bind, a steadfast sailor knot to ensure it does not come undone.

"There, there. I'm here, it's gonna be fine."

Tying the tourniquet before removing the glass seems counterproductive. Wait, how do I take this shit out? Some seem to be ingrained under the skin… pulling them with my fingers will do more harm than good for the smaller ones. I don't think I have anything to- Wait a sec.

"Sumika! Do you have tweezers or something?!"

"Eh? Ah! Y-Yes," she fumbles in her purse, taking out the small pack where she keeps some things to do her nails. Quickly approaching, she hands me the small beak-like thing. "Here. How is she? Will she be-"

"The pressure points are already tightened, and now that the shaking's gone I can try and take out the glass… How's Mikoto?"

"I… don't know… He isn't… breathing," eyes close shut, falling like a guillotine.

"Don't give up. Keep doing the compressions, once I'm done with Miki I'll take over, okay?" I ask, brushing some of her hair. She barely nods, limping back to Mikoto as she was when recoiling from a berserk overload, before slumping face-first into the ground. Biting my lips for a sec, I crouch and slowly let the air, what burns inside, go. "Miki, I'm going to start taking off what pieces of glass I can. This will hurt, but do not worry. Everything will be fine," I nod, ripping off part of my pants, "I'll get you patched up and ready for the hospital in no time."

"…Sorry."

"Huh?"

"Like this… I can't shoot a bow… Sorry, Papa…"

"It's going to be fine. You'll recover from this, it's just a little slip on the road. You'll be walking and shoot arrows before you know it, Miki." I'll make sure of it, you're not dying on me again.

Tasting iron behind my lips, small squirts fall onto the improvised bandage as I remove a piece as large as my thumb, an inverted triangle whose base's corners were a bit too ingrained, fully red.

"I won't be able… to win my match. I won't make him proud… the dojo will-"

"You'll have plenty of time to practice again, don't worry. Trust me, everything will be fine."

Poking them with only one end of the tweezers, the small zigzags above her knees slowly leave her skin alone. Lifting her arm as a porcelain vase, in equal slowness do I approach the claws that rip at her forearm, protruding from it in a mocking resemblance to the weaponized armor, a sea of see-through spikes over a crimson pond.

"I won't… I won't be able to help back home like this…"

"It's gonna be fine. You'll recover, n-nothing will be wrong. Alright? So please, stay calm, Miki. It'll be-"

"Sorry, Mama…" she whispers, cracking, hiccuping. Crying as her head tilts sideways, slumping, slouched, still. "Your sauntpaulias are… a-all dried up. I co-couldn't keep… your garden healthy… and now it- it hurts so… so…"

Eyelids flutter, a shadow covers us both as slowly as both breathing and body drop their weight on the floor.

"…So cold."

And in the same slow motion, the same apathy of a flower blooming away, her head falls, meets the concrete. Lips slightly parted, the faint trail of dampness yet coursing down her cheek. The steady beat in her arm fading, like the light all around, like all other sounds.

"Miki? Miki, can you hear me?" slowly placing a few fingers under her chin, trying to lift it meets me with full-dead resistance and a flop back to the ground. "Miki, come on. D-Don't do this to me… Not again… No, focus. Remove… the glass."

Remove all the glass, I can do that little.

Her pulse is still weak, chest barely raises to breathe.

Clean the wounds as well as you can, anyone could do it.

Eyes remain shut, there is no response as I tend to the cuts in legs, arms or face.

Double check the bindings, make sure the tourniquets are all firmly in place.

Is this all I can really do?

"Siiigh…" standing up, I turn around. Walking up to Sumika, seeing a few people had taken our lead to tend the wounds of others, and that little kid from before crying his eye sockets out while looking at Mikoto, despite the molehill of a wound he has on a leg, I shake my head, punch my stomach lightly and spit the steel away. "How is Mikoto?"

"Ah…" she jerks, twitching as our eyes meet. Giving another mechanical nod as she resumes the pumping motions, her voice splinters in places. "I-I'm trying…"

Before I can offer to take over, sirens start to grow closer, the relief effort teams dropping out from their rides, ready to restore order to the place. Hurrying their way to tell them of Miki's condition, a pair of them help me place her on a gurney. As they also take Mikoto and other wounded into their care, as Sumika slumps into my shoulder, I force a smile towards the little kid that remained attached to his brother, both luckily seem well enough. As his crying subsides and he dive into a hug, I can only look up.

Look up and feel ice slithering down my throat, slicing into my veins, from my veins. This… destruction, this chimera of a ruins between the city I knew and the disaster that was the Hiiragi district in the other side, with some buildings intact, some completely collapsed, and smoke rising to the heavens is no coincidence. These accidents they suffered, the similarities to their previous deaths, cannot be a coincidence. This was because of me, wasn't it? There was no loss of memory… perhaps because I was no longer a conductor on the other side. But still remembering that world, did that cause a link to come to this side?

…Could I have prevented this if I had acted sooner? Will they survive?

"Takeru-chan, are you alright?" Sumika asks, with a broken voice as she lightly pulls my arm.

So I pet her head, bring her closer. "Yeah, don't worry."

"…Your mouth is bleeding."

"I'm fine… This is just a scratch…"

"L-Let me clean it, at least," she tugs, trying to get a torn piece of cloth to my face, eventually wiping at me. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm alright. You okay?"

"Yeah," she again buries herself on my chest, shaking in cold, "thanks to you pulling me away."

"I see…" At least I managed to keep her safe… Not that it clears the rest of this horror from my hands…

"Hey, what are we gonna do? How are we gonna go home?" She says with a tiny, tiny voice, holding my arm tighter and tighter, shaking all the while.

"Leave things to the relief efforts, they'll get the situation under control. For now… there is nothing else we can do."

But this won't be the end.

All my squadmates might now be in mortal danger, or even worse, the death data from the other world might be seeping through space towards us.

I can only apologize to you, Miki, Mikoto, and hope that you don't suffer that same fate.

If only I hadn't…

Riveting my own nails on my palms, I turn away while still holding the limping shape of Sumika, asking the relief efforts where should we head. Directing ourselves and the other civvies towards a nearby park, through the yelling and crying and coughing and choking I drag both of us ahead, the skyline losing its pink, flooded by dark blues and thickets of darkest smoke. There's stiffness from my waist and down, as if my joints were molten by a laser simply walking brings needles to both knees at times. We had eaten just a while ago, now there's only a gaping maw at the pit of my stomach, expanding with every step. And that taste, of iron, of blood mixed with salt that whips at my face, as it did during my breakdown.

…Why?

My fight was already over, right?

But it was my fight, mine alone. Why make them suffer again? I died… many times in Iceberg too.

Why not me?

Why them again?

Yuuko, you- you weren't lying to me, right? What you said before I vanished weren't castles in the clouds just to give me some peace of mind, right?

It's not too late, is it? I gotta… I gotta find Sensei. Before causality takes anyone's life again.