Author's Notes:
There is an important section at the end of this chapter!
Don't skip that!
That section has very important information about this story that you absolutely need to know if you want to continue reading!
This story is a derivative fanwork written by GodandMen for the Toaru Majutsu no Index/とある魔術の禁書目録 franchise.
EPILOGUE
-x-
The shadows never change.
It was surreal how familiar everything felt, even though everything was so different. The layout of the streets, the style of the buildings, the pedestrians and the lights and the people and the very sky above him was different. It was all so different from what he was used to in Sofia, where he had been trained.
And yet it was also absolutely the same.
It was the same angles, the same blind spots and the same dead points that came together beneath the layers of the mundane façade, forming the stage for the same chess game. He could only imagine how many forgotten operations and silent struggles have been fought in these tired shadows.
And now it was his turn.
Slowly, carefully, Jim made his way through the winding alleyways and curving streets. A cold wind blew in from the east and he clutched his sweater closer. His wounds were still burning with pain, although it was a lot better now.
A quick look behind him: no tail.
The sun was beginning to set and a couple of street lights came to life, blinking on and off. Jim stepped quietly along the path and turned into the final alleyway. He checked the surroundings again with the address he had memorized, to make sure he was in the right place.
Yes, yes, the address was correct.
He walked through the narrow alleyway and came to an unbelievable scene. He found himself facing a series of beautiful, sloping mountains in the distance. Along the path right in front of him was a large flowing river.
Incredible.
He did not know it was possible for a place like this to exist within Academy City. But then again he was at its very edges. He looked around and saw all the other buildings facing the other way, all with their backs to the river and the mountain ridge. There were no windows from the surrounding buildings that could get a view of where he was standing.
Perfect cover.
Jim turned to see his new station. It was a plain two-storied brick building with no defining characteristics. He saw that there were windows but he knew that curtains covered them 24/7.
When Jim's eyes carefully scoured the building it slowly came to life. The bricks were old, aged, unlike those found in the city center. The windows had a very peculiar taint to them. There was even hint of a personality lurking behind its boring rectangular shape.
It was one of those things where looking at it reminded you of something, but what exactly you could not recall. It was a quick fleeting thought that skirted past your mind. It left only the vague notion that you've forgotten something important; an answer to a question that you didn't even know you had.
It was a relic from another time, an older time perhaps, that had quietly hidden itself away. Away from the tall skyscrapers and modern offices, in a secret corner of Academy City that you would only find if you knew where to look.
So this was Jim's real station.
He found himself at the front of a store. There was an empty counter illuminated by a yellowing lightbulb. The heavy scent of freshly carved wood permeated the air. He looked around at the products that lined the interior of the shop.
Wooden dolls.
There were hundreds and hundreds of them, lining up every single part of the wall and filling all of the stands. He took a closer look. They all seemed personally handcrafted and painted, each decorated elaborately with dresses and clothing.
They were from all walks and stations of life. Jim recognized princesses, soldiers, queens, wizards, and even a vampire. After marveling at the sheer diversity and size of the collection, he eventually spotted the dark doorway next to the counter that led further inside.
He slowly approached the doorway and looked inside.
It was a staircase leading down to another room. And at the end of it he saw a speck of light. For some reason, the thought of walking down the dark staircase greatly unnerved Jim. Still, he bit his cheek and made his way down slowly, taking care to not slip and to be silent. The wooden boards, however, creaked and moaned with each step he took.
Finally, he arrived at the bottom and peeked inside the basement.
It was a room covered by traditional tatami floorboards and filled with even more wooden dolls. But amidst the mountains of figures there was an old man sitting on the floor, bent over his low desk, working away at a doll. He had only a dim yellow lamp for illumination. The light flickered and danced within the low, drooping 18th century spectacles hanging on his nose.
Jim narrowed his eyes to get a better look but the light was too dim for him to make out any details. All he could tell was that the man – somewhere between his mid-forties to early fifties – was dressed in some sort of traditional Japanese clothing; a simple blue dress.
Jim would later learn that it was called a samue; the traditional working clothes of Japanese Buddhist monks.
Strangely, the man was undoubtedly a foreigner. Jim reckoned him to be someone from Eastern Europe. Czech perhaps, Slovak? Moldovan? Perhaps even a Bulgarian, someone from Sofia!
Jim was still observing him when the old man raised his hands and gestured at him. Jim walked out of the shadows and into the light.
"So, you must be the mongrel," the old man stated matter-of-factly, without looking up from his doll.
Jim straightened his back.
"Yes sir. I'm here to report for duty."
"You're late."
"I…ah, ran into –"
The dollmaker waved his hand dismissively and Jim stopped talking.
"Let's start with the basics. I am your station chief and you report to me. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now pray tell me, what station you hail from."
Jim blinked.
Technically…
"The Sofia station, sir."
"Fair enough. How long did you work there and what did you do?"
"I was there for two-and-a-half years. I was mainly engaged in support duties."
The old man shook his head sadly.
"Mongrels, mongrels everywhere! Never thought I'd live to see the day. Times really are changing, huh?"
Jim knew of course that the chief had already read his file in advance and knew everything there was to know about him. All of this was just a series of formalities to ensure that Jim was not under the delusion that he could hide any of his past from them.
What he found peculiar was how the old man did not look him in the eye.
Instead, he had his back turned sideways to Jim, his eyes downcast, working on the doll. They had taught him in training that eye contact was very important. The eyes were the windows into a person's soul. Steady eye contact meant confidence.
An averted gaze meant guilt, submission, or fear.
Perhaps Jim was not worthy of even being looked at?
"Well then, did the spooks in Sofia manage to teach you anything?"
"Yes sir. I had some basic training in intelligence operations."
"Anything tactical?"
Jim's jaws tightened slightly.
"…I have some experience, sir."
A knowing smile spread across the old man's face. He said one word:
"Krahkozia."
"Yes," Jim answered simply.
"Lovely country…" the old man began, followed by a pause, "…terrible shame."
Jim opened his mouth to say something but it turned into a whisper, spoken more to himself than anyone in particular.
"If it's a crow…"
"…then let it be shaggy," the old man finished for him.
A muscle in Jim's face twitched but he remained silent.
"True, true," the dollmaker continued amicably, "but it didn't need to be that shaggy, did it?"
Not shaggy enough, Jim thought darkly.
The chief put down the paintbrush and reached for another smaller, nimbler one. He delicately wet it in a porcelain cup and continued his work. Jim realized that while every doll upstairs was painted and finished, everyone here was still in their blank wooden shells.
Right now the chief seemed to be applying the finishing touches to a soldier doll.
"There is nothing to worry about. We will teach you everything you need to know and train you in everything you need to do. Any questions?"
"Sir, is this the…official station of Academy City?"
The old man chuckled.
"Listen here, mongrel, I'll tell you this for free, no charge. You're not overseas anymore. You're in The City now. Out there in the wild it's only two stations per city, one for us and the other for the snakes, if they have any at all. After all, there's not much counterintelligence work to be done in foreign adventures."
The chief paused, checking his doll for any flaws under the lamp's light.
"Here the rules are different. There are many different stations in Academy City, each of them housing a full complement of operation teams and support staff. So, no, this is not the official station of Academy City."
"Understood, sir. Another question: Is my position a…foreign service or counterintelligence role?"
"To answer your question, your billet is that of an intelligence-officer-in-training, assigned to a general duties post. But don't get too full of yourself, you're still a mongrel. As for your duties, you will do whatever that is required or asked of you, without asking pointless questions too."
The dollmaker blew lightly on his doll to dry the fresh paint.
"Before you start worrying, no, you are not a snake. Neither am I. When you started they must have told you that once you don the black, the only way out is either the chimney or the dust. That will never change."
Jim nodded silently.
"Anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Did Anti-Skill give you any trouble?"
Jim shifted nervously.
"Sir, there was this woman…Yomikawa Aiho. She seemed to know…well, she –"
"– saw right through your cover. And knew you were a mongrel."
Jim nodded awkwardly.
"Is she one of ours?"
"No."
"The white ones, then? A snake?"
"Well, no…"
"Oh."
"Say, you didn't think she was your station chief, did you?"
"…I did," Jim admitted sheepishly, "She was good, sir. I thought –"
The dollmaker threw his head back, chortling with laughter.
"Of course you did. And yes, she is good. That's the Yomikawa after all. She's your Anti-Skill lieutenant, right? Don't worry, she is well acquainted with us. Just keep your mouth shut and live your cover and she'll leave you alone. After all, just like Anti-Skill we in the black also have Academy City's best interests in mind."
The old man put the finishing touches on his doll and put it down. He reached under the table and pulled out a sealed paper file. He placed the file on the desk facing towards Jim. He still did not look him in the eye.
"In here you will find instructions, some money, and an encrypted phone. Keep the phone on you at all times. I will contact you with it. Never come to this place unless you have been summoned. You will be arranged training sessions and operational briefings when the time comes."
"Yes sir."
Jim secretly sighed with relief. He had expected much, much worse from the station chief. He walked forwards with restrained relief in his stride and reached down to take the file, already thinking of liberation.
That's when the knife came flashing downwards and embedded itself squarely between Jim's middle and index fingers. His eyes widened as he recognized the short kitchen knife's cheap plastic handle, charred black and half-melted by the fire.
There was even some flour dust still on the blade.
Jim looked up quickly and found himself staring into the cold, unblinking eyes of a jackal.
"You blew up the warehouse."
That was his trick.
For the entirety of the conversation, he had avoided Jim's eyes.
Then suddenly he made use of it swiftly and mercilessly. He had the cruel, piercing eyes of a true jackal: they were the real veterans, the quiet professionals, and the tip of the spear of Academy City's black intelligence service.
Jim was hopelessly unprepared for it.
"I…ah…" he stammered.
"Listen here, and listen well, because I am only going to say this once. Unlike Anti-Skill or them snakes, I am not and never will be in the mood to listen to any of your shitty, half-baked lies. And I don't particularly care, either. All that matters is that you follow my orders to the letter the moment I give them to you. Whatever the fuck it is that you do in your free time, you better not make a mistake or fuck with the wrong people. We saved your mongrel ass from the killing fields, and if you do something stupid I will not hesitate to feed you to the snakes. There are plenty of others who would kill for your place. So if you ever decide to do anything unsanctioned, you better fight the right people, and you better fucking win."
Jim tried to swallow but a knot formed in his throat. The jackal sat back down onto the floor, his eyes still fixed in an unrelenting gaze. He effortlessly pulled the knife – embedded deeply in the table – out in one swift, fluid motion.
"Now, why the fuck did you blow up the warehouse, and what were you doing there? And don't you fucking dare lie to me."
Jim opened his mouth to try but it took one look from the jackal and the ground disappeared beneath his feet.
"They took something from me. Something precious. By accident. I wanted to get it back."
"And just exactly what precious something did they take from you? Your virginity?"
"An heirloom," Jim barely managed, "from Krahkozia, sir."
The jackal's eyes pierced him, searching for any signs of weakness or guilt. Then he scoffed and a nasty smile spread across his face. He knew that Jim could not lie to him.
"You mongrels are fucking idiots. Every last one of you. I don't care if they took your mother's ashes. Drop. That. Shit. If the team you hit wasn't a dud you'd be long dead. They were absolute amateurs, even worse than your lot. And also, count your lucky stars that you're still alive and she hasn't burned your mongrel ass to a crisp."
"Who is that woman, sir? She was powerful –"
He shot him another icy glare. Jim wilted.
Pointless questions.
"Other else than blowing-it-the-fuck-up, what did you find at the warehouse?"
A sudden pain suddenly shot through Jim's left arm. He hadn't yet learned to withstand the chief's powerful eyes. The sharp sensation brought a certain clarity to his mind; it was something Jim desperately needed.
"Nothing," Jim barely managed, "the esper burned the place down before I recovered anything."
The thought of his cheap digital camera, lying nakedly out in the open on his dorm's kitchen counter…
Luckily for him the jackal already had his mind elsewhere.
"Burn? Fucking blew the place to pieces is more like it. There's nothing left. They heard that blast from the other end of Academy City. Well, not like I give a shit. It's the snakes' mess now and they are scrambling over each other's tails to catch her. Knowing how useless those imbeciles are, I doubt they will manage."
"Should I…what should I do if I come across her again?"
"Report to me immediately. I don't expect much from you so just try to delay her. And, don't get yourself killed; it gives us jackals a bad name. But if you have another chance to make her blow something up, do it. In other words, anything to embarrass our scaled colleagues is always good."
He raised the paper file and handed it to Jim.
Jim considered asking him about the girl with ashen hair but thought better of it. He had pushed his luck enough for one day. He meekly took the file and slid it inside his sweater. Just as he began to turn, intending to flee from the small suffocating room with all of its creepy dolls and the snarling jackal, he was stopped.
The dollmaker stopped him.
He took the newly finished soldier and blew on it facetiously. Then he handed it to him with a serene smile. Jim stared at it for a moment, stupefied, before accepting it with uncertain hands.
The smooth surface, freshly coated with paint, brushed against his palm as the doll fell into place. Jim understood then, and only then, who it was meant for.
It was not a doll of a soldier but that of a guerilla fighter, an insurgent.
Like in a distant dream, Jim recognized the patchwork pattern of the webbing on his chest, the distinctive type of Kalashnikov with its wooden foregrip, and of course, the unmistakable black bandana slung proudly across his head.
For the first time Jim raised his gaze and, without fear, stared into the eyes of the man sitting in front of him.
"Not bad, right?" the old jackal smiled cruelly, "I think it really captures your…essence."
Jim nodded.
"Try pushing on his stomach."
He did.
His stomach gave way with a creak and the hidden razor bit into Jim's thumb.
Then suddenly the blood was everywhere. It came out overflowing from every part of his body; his eyes, his limbs, his stomach, everywhere. The little man in Jim's hands bled and bled like an unending fountain. It was difficult to imagine how a small doll could have so much blood inside it.
The fresh paint mingled quickly with his blood, and then finally with Jim's own from his thumb and the beautiful doll turned into a mutilated corpse; into an unspeakable horror.
His own corpse.
"Now you can throw it into the Kosar river, just like the last war! Quite authentic, isn't it?"
The jackal reached for a glass of wine.
"Oh, and don't worry, that's clean blood. You won't get AIDS or anything like that from it."
"What do I call you, sir?"
"Sir. Chief. Master. God. My Hero. Any of those will do."
"No, I meant your name, sir."
The jackal smiled slightly as he raised the glass of crimson wine to his lips.
"I don't think you'll live long enough for that to matter, Jakov. But tell you what, if you ever become a real jackal one day, then I'll consider telling you. But a curious factoid for you: everyone who knows my name is dead, and that is a tradition I intend to uphold."
Jim nodded at him. He held Jim's gaze for a moment before nodding back. Then the dollmaker stretched his neck and reached for another empty shell, beginning his work anew. Jim turned away slowly, with the doll in his hands, and began climbing up the stairs.
But this time he was not afraid.
Instead, he embraced it as he ascended from the darkness.
When Jim arrived at the top he heard the jackal called out to him, from his lair below:
"May She come to you in silence, and with grace!"
A dull ache ate its way through Jim's arm as he stepped out into the night. The spring night greeted him gently. He felt a cool breeze coming down from the mountains and fluttering across the river. The sound of the water flowing past suddenly became overpowering.
He took the doll in his bloodied hands and tossed it far, far out into the river.
Jim didn't even hear a splash.
Three days.
Jim had been in Academy City for three days; Friday, Saturday and today, Sunday. In this period of time he took out a team, got arrested, questioned and then fought an old experienced operative to within an inch of his life.
He also had the pleasure of eating a full three-course-episode, something that he had managed to avoid for a long time.
But none of that meant anything to him.
The locket.
It was the locket that he had given her, the last memento he had of her, something that he had carried on him till the end of the war, and through his time in Sofia's shadows.
It was the promise that he had made that day.
All lost.
The image of the girl came to him, the small girl with ashen hair and deep green eyes, her grey hair fluttering across her face, standing on the edge of the bridge's railings. He remembered the shining light in the darkness, the light that disappeared into her chest.
She took it from him.
Another wind blew in, but this time it was from the city. It was cold and harsh. Jim rubbed his nose and pulled his sweater closer to his body. The pain of his wounds was now nothing but a familiar afterthought. Instead, the old jackal's words echoed in his head.
The ache gripped his left arm again.
Jim turned around and, after another inane check, disappeared into the dark alleyways.
Well, the joke's on you, he thought, I've already met the lying bitch.
-x-
First uploaded: 2/12/2020
Last modified: 1/4/2021
Word count: 3,356
End of BAPTISM
Author's Notes:
(Be warned, very long! But also very important!)
Intro
Hello reader, thank you for reading so far into this shoddy, poorly-written story. Since this is the epilogue of this story's first arc, please allow me to answer some questions you may have.
Even if you are not interested in these questions, we need to clear up some expectations you may have of this Magical Index fanwork. I don't want readers to get 100 chapters in only to realize they've been cheated and falsely advertised to about what will be in the story.
Should you want to keep reading the story, it is important that we are on the same page.
So dear reader, please indulge me, humor me, as we go through these questions.
Where is Touma?
First of all, let's get the obvious out of the way:
Touma will not be part of this story. In fact, he will not exist in this version of the Magical Index universe at all.
That is not because I think he is a bad character. I actually like him a lot. It's just that I don't think he would fit in the story I'm trying to tell.
If that is a deal-breaker for you, feel free to stop reading. I completely understand your decision.
I've always wondered what would happen if someone different from Touma was present during some of the canon events. And Jim is, in many ways, very very different from Touma. This story's goal is to explore how a different main character in the Index universe would affect everything else. This will lead the story lines to very different directions.
Is the Index Universe still the same?
Kind of, but there are notable differences.
Yes, I understand that a lot of the Magical Index universe is built around Touma, and I have made the necessary changes to the world-building. Like why the city even exists in the first place. The reason why I labeled this story AU is because a lot of the plot elements and characters from canon are changed, some of them quite significantly. However I think you will still be able to recognize most of them.
There are also some minor changes to certain events in history, but nothing dramatic. So no, Hitler did not win WWII. In any case, that is still a long way off before it becomes relevant.
Is this a fix-it fic of Raildex?
No, this fic is not trying to fix anything.
Say what you want, the Raildex franchise is pretty good as a LN series. This fanfic is not trying to fix anything of the series from that perspective. Instead it is using the general settings, basic idea of the characters, some plot inspiration from the arcs and taking it in a completely new direction.
Basically think of this fanfic as what would happen if an amateur dumbass – an author, if you will – from a more "Western" writing background took the ideas of the series and tried to spin it for a native English audience.
That being said, personally I think this story will be a mix of "Western" and LN elements. After all realistically speaking the plot in this fanfic is too shlocky for even the trashiest YA readers. Conversely this fic is probably a little too pretentious and grimderp by LN standards.
So the basic takeaway is that – no matter how you look at it – this story is trash.
What is the pacing/timeline of this story?
The Index timeline of the LN and Anime takes place basically in 6 months. It is planned for this story to span over 3 – 4 years of in universe time. So most canon events' timings have been changed as needed. The pacing will be very methodical since a lot of stuff have my own spin on it so I need to introduce them properly.
It's just that if you want to see certain moments in canon you have to be patient. I need time to properly set it up.
But at the same time not every moment/arc in canon will be adapted. Some moments will be featured in a changed way, others will be skipped over. I will talk about it when the time comes because they are still pretty far off.
There will also be a fair amount original arcs. In the end they may actually be the most numerous, but we'll have to wait and see.
Which arcs will be adapted?
Most Railgun arcs will be adapted, with some or a lot of notable changes. A lot of the magic arcs will be only be used as a reference for ideas, because as a history nerd I like to put my own spin on it.
Don't worry, Misaka will still be the central character in her arcs, but Index will also be A LOT more useful in this story, especially on the magical side.
That being said, please remember that NOT ALL ARCS FROM THE LNS WILL BE ADAPTED.
What is the genre of this story?
This story is a big mix of lots of things. Sometimes the genre will change depending on what arc is going on and what is happening. However, a quick list off the top of my head would include:
Spy thriller, military fiction, urban fantasy (magic arcs), historical fiction, adventure, slight science fiction (science arcs), a bit of drama and also – waaay later on in the story – slight romance.
Right now I've introduced the spy thriller and intelligence operations aspect because I think that is the unique selling point of this fanwork.
Does Jim have the Imagine Breaker?
Short answer: No.
Long answer: No.
For those who are wondering, Jim has something vaguely similar to the Imagine Breaker.
However aside from the basic way it's used, meaning its ability of negating powers and magic, it is a completely different thing on its own. The back story of it is also completely different, something that will be explored in later arcs. You can also tell from this chapter that, unlike the Imagine Breaker, there is a hefty price to pay each time it is used.
So in that aspect, I'm afraid anything you've read from the new Index novels or the anime will not help you.
Also no dragons, lol.
Is Jim a self-insert?
Good god, no. Why would I want to be him? Sure, you might think he is some badass spy…but just wait. You as a reader don't know what's coming.
And boy, oh boy, is Jim's going to be in trouble.
Is Jim a Gary-Stu?
No.
But that's exactly what a writer writing a Gary-Stu self-insert would say, right?
In that case I'm afraid I have no way to prove you wrong. Not yet anyways. I can only encourage you to keep reading (hence the not yet). All I can say is that Jim has worked very hard for every skill he has. He has also suffered a lot.
Also he will get his ass kicked a lot.
Special Shout Out!
I need to give a special shout out to Brosephg, whose kind words have been great motivation for me to keep writing. He is a regular in the Index community who always leave interesting and well-thought out reviews. Honestly after I wrote the first chapter I never thought to continue writing, thinking that surely nobody will read this stuff (that is still the case lol).
However, reading his review (first ever!) made me think that maybe I should continue. I'm pretty sure this story will never get a lot of attention but I continued writing because the story I made up in my mind just had to come out, somewhere.
Also Brosephg, I think you are the only person who actually read Chapter 2 lol.
I admit the conversation in that scene might have been too indulgent and long for most readers to stomach. I will try to put other stuff in future chapters with heavy dialogue. I hope this chapter with the dollmaker is a good start!
I expect – with 1,000% certainty, in fact – that this story will remain absolutely obscure throughout its entire life. And I say this knowing that this story would take, at minimum, years' worth of updates and 500K+ words to finish.
And that, of course, makes perfect sense because most people want to read about Touma and this story is not that.
I'm totally fine with that.
Like I said, the reason I decided to continue this story from being a one-shot prank was because I just thought up an entire rewrite of the series in my free time and just had to get it out somewhere.
So voila!
Here it is, in all is grand glory, as a shitty no-name internet fanfic written by some random dude.
So if you are here, reading this, then lol you're one of the few who have stumbled into this weird corner of Anime fanfiction!
Enjoy...I guess?
Changelog:
5/8/2021 – Prose edits. Shamelessly fixed who gave locket to who (honest mistake! really!).
1/4/2021 – General edits and final cleanup (hopefully).
15/3/2021 – General edits.
7/3/2021 – Added shadow section at start. Added pause to Yomikawa comment. Added sections to Q&A: Genre, Fix-it and Arcs.
7/12/2020 (?) – Added observations about building.
2/12/2020 (?) – Cut into two from previous chapter. Reorganized Q&A to be more streamlined and less obnoxious.