My lengthy preamble aside, I have wonderful reviews to respond to; and respond I shall! It's always my favourite time!
Guest: That's fair enough, I think. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion. I could never, nor would I ever try to take that from you or try to change your mind.
Whwsms: Part of Broken Testament for me was trying to make the 'Dark Side of Academy City' even more vile and repugnant than how it's portrayed in Kamachi's canon. To that end, I suppose I've succeeded!
Given that the vast majority of level five espers are guinea pigs and are ultimately unimportant to a certain Superintendent's plans, I'd argue that Mugino Shizuri is little more than another cog in the machine.
Good to hear, my friend! It's always a pleasure to have you here with us.
Misaka Phenex: If you've been following 'A Certain Broken Testament', you'll know a certain 'Main Plan' is... Well, that's a bit of a spoiler, isn't it? I won't say much more about it here.
Homcomru: Your kind words flatter me greatly, my friend. It's so wonderful to hear from you! I genuinely cannot control the blushing fit I'm suffering through as I write this. Your kindness is deeply appreciated, much more than I can fit into mere words.
Hamasaki Tsubasa is a difficult guy to figure out. His dynamic with Saten Ruiko is written in such a way that the two are foils to one another, while also complimenting one another. Voidwalker is the jaded, world-weary cynic, and one among the most powerful espers to exist. Ruiko is the wide-eyed, spunky, energetic level zero girl who, while having brushed with the 'Dark Side' several times, remains mostly in the realm of normalcy as an ordinary girl. Of course, Ruiko's nascent understanding of magic and the Magic Side may very well change that.
Again, thank you so very much for your kind and supportive words! I genuinely cannot thank you enough for your support.
February 11th, 2004. 7:00 PM.
By the standards of student dormitories in Academy City's seventh school district, this dormitory wasn't particularly special. To one who didn't have business there, it would have blended in perfectly with just about any other. Flat-roofed, silver-coloured and mostly sterile in design though with soft, beige-coloured stripes running horizontally along its walls, the individual student apartments didn't even have balconies; they were cramped on the inside, with little more than a single room for everyday living, where a bed was expected to be, a cramped kitchen area, and a tiny, equally cramped bathroom. Two ascending staircases lead from the cobbled walkway below to the dormitory's first row of dorms, then to the second.
Altogether, it was a residence in which Saten Ruiko didn't deserve to be entrapped, in Hamasaki Tsubasa's opinion. This dumpy little dormitory was too pitiful for all of her majesty and limitless beauty, which radiated from the inside-out, infinitely.
Academy City's fourth-ranked level five didn't quite know for how long, precisely, he was going to be away from Academy City, and from her. The thought pained him. Merely considering it sent painful, wracking bursts of discomfort rushing throughout his chest.
Perhaps, it would give him some time to reflect on his behaviour, and how he, himself viewed the object of his affections. If he were to lay all things out on the proverbial table, come clean, confess and be entirely honest, what would a normal, spunky, outgoing girl like Ruiko think of him, and his view of her? Would she view him as an extreme romantic, or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, a disturbing, obsessive freak?
Such would have to wait. At the very least, he could do this. In its own way, this would tell him all he needed to know, and how best he should proceed with his own, future plans.
Ascending the staircases and seeking out the dark, metallic door which lead into the Saten Residence, Voidwalker gently knocked his bare hand's knuckles against the door's surface, then waited, stepping back and resting his form against the nearby railing.
Only a few moments would pass before the door swung open, inwards, and that beautiful, precious young woman practically threw herself outwards, arms spread wide open.
"Hamasaki-san!"
As happy, as friendly, as outgoing as ever, Saten Ruiko's mere vocalizations brought a smile to the tense-feeling high school boy. In a platonic embrace, the level zero girl's arms were around his shoulders. Her embrace was warm, all-encompassing, a relaxing sensation that, for a brief, few moments caused all of Tsubasa's troubles to slip away and slink, back, into the darkened depths from which they'd emerged, like so many disgusting little imps.
"Hey, Saten."
He returned the embrace, with some reluctance. His hands were filthy, speaking proverbially. They were plastered in filth, from the tips of his fingers to his wrists. One such as him, truthfully, didn't even deserve to so much as touch a girl as pure as this. That was Hamasaki Tsubasa's outlook on the situation.
"When you texted, I was so hyped! We haven't hung out since…"
She seemed to trail off, then. Saten Ruiko remembered their last encounter, in that bank. When she'd witnessed, and not for the first time, how quickly a situation could spiral out of control. How a carefree, lazy day could become a frantic struggle to survive.
Though their embrace parted, Voidwalker rested a hand gently upon his friend's shoulder.
"Don't think about it, Saten. Happy thoughts are always nicer than heavy thoughts. Remember?"
"Y-Yeah. That's right! Happy thoughts, not heavy thoughts."
"See? You've got the hang of this. Besides, perk up, Saten. I got something for you."
"?!"
With her wide, curious blue eyes, so full of love and life, and long, elegant dark hair, Saten Ruiko, even her exceedingly casual dress, looked the part of an extravagant royal to Hamasaki Tsubasa. A purple-striped hooded sweater adorned her upper body, and beneath it, a simple short-sleeved shirt. Loose-fitting gym shorts adorned her lower body, as did ankle socks.
"F-For me?! You really shouldn't have…"
From within the pocket of his uniform's pants, Hamasaki Tsubasa produced a small, square-shaped box, with an ornate ribbon tied over its surfaces several times over.
Ruiko peered down at it. For a moment's time, she seemed to become fixated on it. Her eyelids widened at the mere sight of it, as if it was something worth becoming deeply flustered over. Almost instantaneously, the girl's cheeks flared up, turning to a bright, crimson shade of red. Stuttering wordlessly, the level zero girl turned her gaze from the little box, and to the boy who held it out in front of her.
"C-Can I…?"
"Be my guest."
Taking it into her hands and holding it close, as if she feared she'd drop it, Ruiko pried the ribbon away with shaking fingers. Her nails shuddered as her fingers' tips did. Once the ribbon was torn away, the Urban Legend girl lifted the box's lid with considerable caution to her actions.
Held within, surrounded by soft, fluffy white material akin to cotton, was an object which, quite literally, took Ruiko's breath away. It was stunningly beautiful; unlike anything the girl had ever laid her eyes' gaze upon in her entire, relatively short life. It glimmered without the presence of light. Its golden-coloured surfaces decorated with ornate patterns, studded with tiny, precious gems which Ruiko couldn't even begin to try and identify, it was a ring. In its center was a large, octagonal gem. This gem was one Ruiko recognized as soon as she glimpsed it.
It was a diamond.
"N-No way… What is this? V-Valentine's isn't until the fourteenth! It's so beautiful! I'm happy… I'm really, really happy… But… I… Which finger should I wear it on…? What does it mean…? Hamasaki-san…?"
Quietly, Academy City's fourth-ranked level five chuckled.
"I'm not asking you to elope, or anything crazy. It's… Huh. I thought this would be easier. It seemed easier in my head, Saten. It symbolizes my intentions, I suppose. A promise I probably should have extended a long time ago…"
Their eyes' respective gazes locked, then.
"I'm willing to save myself and wait for you, as long as it takes… Ruiko… Would you do the same? Once you come of age, and you feel you can, would you return my feelings for you? Will you save yourself for me?"
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in her words.
They were the words of a confident individual who realized only in that moment that something deeply precious had been offered onto them.
"It's so beautiful! I don't want to stop looking at it! I-I've always l-liked you… But I-I've… I've always felt like it was hard to get close! You're a level five, and I'm just a level zero, and…"
Every molecule in Voidwalker's body demanded that he lean in and kiss her; but that could wait. That could wait four years, five years, a thousand years. There was no length of time that Hamasaki Tsubasa wouldn't wait for her.
"None of that matters, Ruiko."
"… Huh?"
"If you have feelings for me, and I have feelings for you, isn't that all that matters? Our esper levels are irrelevant. I'd give this power up in a second for you. I'd give anything and everything for you."
Then, slowly, Saten Ruiko slipped the golden, bejeweled ring onto her right hand's index finger. For some reason or another, her mind simply went straight to that finger, on that hand. It was a perfect, snug fit. Accentuated by her soft, light-coloured skin, she looked down at it, wiggled her fingers about, then brought the ring up to her lips.
"It's breathtaking… Hamasaki-san… H-How much did you pay for this?!"
"Doesn't matter. I'd give you an entire diamond mine if I could."
Then, as if the mood suddenly shifted around her, Ruiko found that boy who, in her heart, she felt such powerful feelings for sighing, as if some morose air had come to enshroud him, beyond her sight.
"I'm glad clearing the air didn't go nearly as bad as I figured it would've… I'll be leaving for a while. I wanted to take off on a happy note."
The Urban Legend girl could've done just about anything, in that moment, hearing those words spoken by him. Ruiko focused on the response which made the most logical sense, and decided upon it, and it alone. There would be no sense in becoming visibly upset. If anything, she'd simply lose sight of her goal and mess everything up. She wasn't that kind of girl. There was a reasonable path, always. If there was anything she'd learned from diving headfirst into the Level Upper debacle, it had been the capacity for reasoning.
No. Saten Ruiko would behave as a woman would, not a girl. She wouldn't debase herself in such ways.
"Hamasaki-san, I'm really happy… But you can't just give me something like this, tell me everything you have, and then just run off on me. This is a big part of what's been keeping me from being honest, too. You're always running off, being all mysterious-like."
It was Tsubasa's turn to calculate, and weigh his options. Everything he could ever want was here, in front of him. She hadn't turned him away. Even with all of his exceedingly corny and, by his own admission, exceedingly lame admissions, she hadn't turned him away. Ruiko hadn't mocked him, nor rejected him, nor walked away from him. Until he'd mentioned what he'd mentioned, she'd seemed nothing but completely contented.
"I don't know what you've got yourself into, but I can help! I've helped Misaka-san with things like this, if that's what you're stuck in! I… I love you. And I want to be here for you."
The fourth-ranked level five esper, Voidwalker, had a choice to make. It was presented before him, as clear as the blue sky of a cloudless summer's day. Academy City's never-ending 'darkness' could claim another victim…
Or…
Hamasaki Tsubasa could risk it all and betray his handlers. Betray the City that had made him into what he was, for a very specific purpose. Risk incurring the wrath of this experimental supercity's General Superintendent, he who observed and knew all.
UNDER_LINE surrounded him. Hamasaki Tsubasa knew and understood this as a fact, as a facet of reality in this City. There were few places one could go in Academy City which weren't being observed constantly by the microscopic devices that floated on the air.
He certainly hadn't expected things to go quite like this. In fact, Voidwalker had envisioned almost all of it in his mind's eye, presuming on it, assuming that his thoughts would play out perfectly in reality. He'd constructed something of a narrative within his thoughts.
Reality betrayed the narrative. Reality did not follow the narrative. Saten Ruiko was not a character in a book. She was a living, thinking person who wouldn't simply obey the whims of a narrator who controlled all things from on high, toying with lives like so many puppets dangling on strings.
"I… I guess I didn't figure I'd be saying this to you so soon… I love you too, Ruiko… You're right. Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. If you'd offer your help to me, I'll accept it. Might I come in? I hate to impose—"
"Bologna!" Ruiko exclaimed, beckoning her friend inwards. "You're always welcome here, silly. Come on in."
He had some inkling of it, but couldn't yet envision where, exactly it would lead him. Stepping through the doorway, from outside Saten Ruiko's residence and into it, Hamasaki Tsubasa, in fact, took his first steps out from the darkness and into the light.
Aleister Crowley, Academy City's General Superintendent, was none too pleased. Too many of his toys were beginning to act up.
Most classes had been let out, unleashing waves of tired, if grateful students, with the exception of those who'd found themselves either entrapped in afterschool detention classes, or willingly taking part in classes whose focal point was extracurricular in nature.
Elsewhere in Academy City, in a certain dorm – the Saten Residence, in truth – in the seventh school district a middle schooler and a high schooler sat across from one another, separated by a simple table. For some ten minutes, no words had been exchanged between the two.
A female and a male both existed as mere acquaintances, two individuals, a level zero and a level five, who knew one another, and were fond of the other's company.
There was nothing more to the meeting than that, absolutely not.
There wouldn't be anything more to this sort of meeting until she, Saten Ruiko, the level zero Urban Legend girl, came of age. That was the agreement the two had settled upon.
Saten Ruiko, victim of the Level Upper, she who'd ended up in a coma, she who'd caused nothing but suffering for her close friends in her ill-advised quest for power repeatedly told herself that she would have to wait. She was too young. Even as her feelings swarmed like angry, buzzing hornets who'd been summoned to defend the nest.
Besides, she was absolutely average, nothing special about her in the slightest. This was fine. The milquetoast middle schooler girl, the level zero who spent her spare time chasing after Urban Legends that more often than not let straight to a dead end.
And further besides, she was a student, she didn't have time. Expecting another person to deal with her mental hang-ups, her over-studious behavior and her overall nature would simply be unfair.
She needed to get herself together before she even considered such a thing. She needed to wait. She needed to be older, wiser.
It was a quest she'd have to undertake alone, a hurdle she'd have to leap over with her own willpower acting as the metaphorical trampoline beneath her feet, as best as she could with no outside aid. Should she trip, fall and wind up flat on her face, Saten Ruiko would simply have to pick herself up and try again.
No one else deserved to stumble and fall into the proverbial mud with her.
Then, from beyond her higher mind's confines, beyond the thick and cell-like walling of her own consciousness a vocalization was produced. Soft, doting, and characteristically low-pitched, it offered Ruiko a free 'get out of jail' card – the proverbial jail in question being the prison formed by her own mind's seemingly never-ending stream of thoughts.
"Ruiko. Something wrong? You went quiet, all of a sudden. 'Not like you. If something's bothering you, feel free to ramble about it, I know I do it enough to you."
Looking upwards, and away from her feet, adorned in her tight-fitting ankle socks, Ruiko's eyelids slid shut. Above, the synthetic rays of golden-white light beamed down, originating from the dorm's light fixtures. She sighed, quietly.
What was there to lie about?
Not that it mattered. He didn't like her, anyways. He was a level five, who could have just about any girl he wanted. No matter what he said, it simply didn't make sense. Why would he pursue some lowly, powerless level zero with mental baggage and a penchant for the strange? She, Saten Ruiko, she didn't like parties. She didn't like spending entire weekends bumbling about a shopping mall, not so much anymore. She just wanted to curl up in her dorm room's bed with her phone and learn more about some rumored snuff film, or the latest cryptid sighting.
In fact, with each step she took further down the internal rabbit hole, Ruiko quickly realized something rather blatant, something that would've been obvious to even the most idiotic of bumbling, irate airheads; she was hardly a girl at all. She was more like some sort of rambunctious tomboy.
Saten Ruiko produced a forced chuckle.
"There are a few things, actually, Hamasaki-san. If you wouldn't mind listening…"
"I don't, might as well talk about them now, not a lot of sense coming over to see a… friend… and then just existing, quiet as an abused housewife."
Looking past the obviously grim comparison – it was a normal enough occurrence for the eccentric Hamasaki Tsubasa to do that, sometimes, Ruiko knew well enough – she dug her fingers into the rightmost pocket of her shorts, from which she produced her smartphone.
With a quick press of a button and an upwards swipe of her finger, the level zero esper tapped on her phone's Internet browser icon, and then handed the device off to her friend, the recently fourth-ranked level five.
"Maybe you could give that a quick read, and tell me what you think? I'm probably just worrying for nothing because… that makes enough sense; I do it all the time… I tried asking Uiharu, but she's... not being very receptive right now. I can't really blame her; I'm not blaming her! That sounded like I was blaming her, didn't it?"
Into his left hand, Tsubasa took his close friend's phone, which she'd offered to him. With his right, he patted her on the shoulder. Though he reeled the extremity away swiftly enough, suggesting some level of discomfort, or perhaps insecurity, Saten Ruiko appreciated the thought put into the act.
"Nobody said you were blaming her, Saten, lay it back. Uiharu's just going to need some time for herself, to think, to sort her thoughts out. Guarantee you that she'll be back to her usual self in a week, maybe two weeks tops. She needs something, she'll come to you, 'til then just let things play out."
This duality was almost amusing to Tsubasa, the duality of the situation.
On one hand, the hand which held the proverbially half-full cup, his close friend, the friendly and spunky Saten Ruiko sat across from him – she'd accepted him into her place of residence, a thought absurd enough onto itself – and willing to even pay scum like him the time of day. The evening truly wasn't that bad, at least from a perspective that took everything into account.
On the opposite hand, the hand which held the metaphorically half-empty cup, what troubled his close friend was something beyond their respective control.
The eyes of the fourth-ranked level five focused their combined vision upon the screen of level zero Saten Ruiko's smartphone, where a news article was plastered, opened in a digital news app of some description – not even the name of the application was identified in the user interface itself, not that it mattered all that much.
"Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) Threatens "Extreme Merciless Retaliation" Against American, Chinese, Academy City Sanctions, Successfully Test Launches Medium-Range Ballistic Missiles".
So, that was what troubled Saten Ruiko's mind; a decent enough of a concern, in and of itself.
Still, that pathetic joke of a rogue nation was, as always, spewing more nonsense from its many mouths once more. All talk, and no action. Perhaps if their missiles ended up anywhere other the ocean, they'd be considered something more than the laughing stock of the world stage.
Hamasaki Tsubasa could only shake his head in disapproval, as he cautiously returned Ruiko's phone to her.
"Is this what's got you going? Saten, they're a Cold War remnant, their tech's a joke without a punch line. I'm pretty sure a Child Error could take their entire country by themselves."
"I know," Ruiko admitted, reluctance detectable in her vocal tone, "but it's a "what if" thing, in my head. I don't want something like World War Three happening again, that was horrible! Why can't everyone just get along, and settle things like adults, Hamasaki-san?"
"Couldn't answer that, even if I tried, I think it's pitiful more than anything, it's about time someone assassinates their "Glorious Leader"."
Not even for a moment did she hesitate.
Instincts seemed to take over, the desire to find animal comfort, in one way or another ensnared her mind, putting it in a coiling, unwanted embrace.
Ruiko's hand found itself quickly clasping Tsubasa's in its own, her digits curling, coiling and entrapping her friend's hand in a near-crushing vice grip. Apparently, whatever means he used to achieve his reflection abilities either didn't work, or had been disabled.
In truth, the occurrence could be accurately attributed to the latter, though Ruiko had no reliable means of knowing this.
Hamasaki Tsubasa, the recently-crowned fourth-ranked level five, he who'd bulldozed the likes of the sixth, fifth and originally fourth-ranked level fives found himself nearly seizing up, like a piece of machinery experiencing a technical malfunction.
Despite this, he maintained the balance and stability usually present within his voice, as he spoke his piece in response to Ruiko's anxious statement.
"Food poisoning would do just fine, if a bullet to the brain's for whatever reason out of the question. Surely, vengeance is long-overdue. Hell, I'll do it myself, as long as someone pays me."
It was more catharsis than reassurance.
Silence descended once more, following a brief, exasperated sigh from Ruiko.
Why did he have to turn everything into an "I could totally beat this person up" moment? He was a level five, sure, and he liked fighting, sure, but he didn't have to bring it into everything. He was even worse than Misaka Mikoto in that aspect.
About to pose the inquiry to her friend, an act which would've allowed for her queries to escape from the confines of her mind and into the material world, vocalized, Ruiko stopped, reigning herself in, just as her lips nearly began to move.
From within the pocket of his pants, there was a short series of beeps; Hamasaki Tsubasa had received a text message. This was further cemented by the fact that the fourth-ranked level five reached into his pocket, and produced his phone. Indeed, it was more than a mere theory, a stab in the dark.
As he unlocked the device, sliding his index finger about on its touchscreen interface, the expression on the fourth-ranked level five's face slid awkwardly about, becoming grim.
"What's up, Hamasaki-san?"
Hamasaki Tsubasa didn't immediately respond. Instead, his eyes' vision remained utterly focused on his screen.
This was his personal device. Not that which he'd used to communicate with his 'employers', if they could truly be referred to as such; a device that had been physically destroyed. How had they gotten his personal number? The answer was obvious enough; but that meant that Aleister was taking this more seriously than Tsubasa had previously anticipated.
This changed nothing.
Even when the message Tsubasa had electronically received was a declaration, an order, an absolute command, this changed nothing. The message came from beyond even the authority of Gladio-Oculus Operative David Horton, it came from beyond the authority of Horton's own employers, even.
It came directly from the faceless killers who dwelled atop the figurative pyramid that was the hierarchy of Academy City's black operation, Gladio.
It was a message directly from Gladio Director Hideyoshi Sugou.
If the cellular device possessed by Hamasaki Tsubasa didn't run on a closed-shell, custom operating system, with a virtually unbreakable, private network, safeguarded by the greatest security technology Academy City could create, the fourth-ranked level five would've thought Gladio's Director to be a complete, suicidal idiot.
As an apparent 'extra' level of security, the electronically delivered message had been constructed using the alphabetical characters of a custom auxiliary language, EsperantoX2, a language which, if all was going according to plan, only Operatives within Gladio possessed the knowledge to decode.
"Operative Hamasaki,
"It has come to our attention that Kamijou Touma, once-cornerstone in the greater schemes of the General Superintendent himself, the third strongest esper in Academy City, the level five candidate Musujime Awaki, otherwise known as Move Point, the rogue Key to the Imaginary Number District and the List of Prohibited Books, along with others, henceforth referred to as 'the threat' have officially fallen out of Gladio custody.
"Operative Tsuchimikado cannot account for them, and, therefore, we can assume them compromised. A mole unit within the ranks of the Amakusa-style Remix of Church, formerly associated with the 0th Parish of the Church of England, Necessarius will continue to keep Gladio Operatives updated, in regards to this developing matter.
"Additionally, there is a chance that the Main Plan has been heavily damaged, in an apparent conflict with the threat, resulting in grievous bodily harm. The General Superintendent cannot be certain, but an associate of Operative Tsuchimikado believes this to be the case.
"Regardless of this rumour's veracity, Operative Hamasaki, you are hereby tasked with the termination of the Moderating Unit of the abandoned Misaka Network, known as "Last Order". Additionally, the further termination of former researcher Yoshikawa Kikyou, as well as teacher and Anti Skill Operative Yomikawa Aiho have been sanctioned and approved, by my own word. Their usefulness has supposedly reached its end, regardless of whether the Main Plan lives.
"While crude in both theory and execution, your orders are your orders. Don't concern yourself with the cleanup effort, Anti-Skill janitorial staff will handle it.
"Operation Pacifier is presently engaged. Present within are simplistic and encrypted directions leading to Operation Pacifier's launch point.
"Good day, Operative Hamasaki,
"Regards,
"– Director Sugou"
As Hamasaki Tsubasa looked up, his fingers' grip around his cellular phone tightened. Within their merciless, crunching grip, the plastic outer shelling produced a series of soft cracking sounds, not unlike the sound produced by ice being dropped into a cup, filled with liquid.
"… Looks like I just lost my job, Saten."
"What do you mean you're out of a job, Hamasaki-san? O-oh… I hope you weren't let go. I didn't know you were working anywhere in your spare time… I'm sorry. I-I'm sure you'll f-find another job quickly, I'm s-sure of it! Y-you're smart, and v—"
She froze, momentarily, as Hamasaki Tsubasa proverbially shot in her direction her the darkest, grimmest, most unsettling look she'd ever seen painted upon the facial features of a human being.
Saten Ruiko couldn't even begin to try and get another word in, edgewise. Her own lips simply lost momentum, like a runner who could jog no further.
"Saten, I want you to do me a favor. Friends do favours for one another, right? So do me a favour. All I want is for you to do right now is kick me out. Go and be a normal girl, go read about your Urban Legends, or something. Work on developing your ability, or work on your magic. I can introduce you to people who can help with your magic development. All I need for you to do right now is to stop associating with me.
"Hamasa…"
"Saten. It's confusing, and it's going to stay that way, as long as I have even a single say in it. Being within twenty feet of me is dangerous for you, life-threatening."
"What…?"
"I'm going to do something that I shouldn't be doing. I'm going to piss off a lot of very important and powerful people in Academy City. They're going to want my head, and they might just get it, if I miscalculate even a single step. So go, Saten, go back to being a normal girl. If I wind up with a bullet in my forehead, I'm glad that you're going to be the last Light Side person that I see."
Saten Ruiko found herself in an undesirable situation, indeed; not quite knowing what to say or do, as the fourth-ranked level five rose from his seat at the table, cellular phone clutched in the palm of his hand, four digits and a thumb clasped around its plastic shell.
For Hamasaki Tsubasa, the next choice to make was all too simple.
He didn't look back at his friend. Instead, he simply looked down at his cellular device's touchscreen. Over it the tip of his thumb slid, as if he was peeling back the pages of a book. His illegal black operation paymasters wanted him to literally slaughter women and children – a single child, at least. In any case, it was a matter which simply couldn't be pursued. Uninvolved women and children, clones or not, was where the line was drawn, simply by principle.
This, however, still left the matter of the "Sons of Taured" operating within Academy City unattended. Continued neglect would lead to disaster, once more, simply by principal, both proverbially and literally.
Navigating through the individual entries of data within his cellular device's contacts list, Tsubasa's thumb came to rest upon no name in particular.
There were no options, no one to turn to, and no one to pawn the unwanted task upon.
Hopefully, time would for once humor him, and choose to take to his side.
He would have to become the anti-establishment, the Director of a black project within a black project.
Only in Academy City could such an absurd and utterly, utterly incomprehensibly cryptic situation come to be; at the very least, Hamasaki Tsubasa was self-aware.
Mere moments following the locking of his cellular smartphone, the fourth-ranked level five's thumb hovering mere inches above the darkened, imageless tempered glass touchscreen of his smartphone, a vocalization became audible. A single declaration of a name, with an honorific following it, its uttering resulted in a sudden halt in his march towards the entranceway door of the Saten Residence.
"Hamasaki-san."
She'd managed to make her way up from her side of the table and to his side in the span of seconds. How he hadn't heard Saten Ruiko's footfalls, Hamasaki Tsubasa didn't know, and he likely never would. He wasn't about to ask such a strange question.
"If I wanted to be a 'normal girl', I never would've come to Academy City. All I've ever wanted is to help someone with something, anything, with an ability. I don't have an ability, and I probably never will have an ability, but abilities don't matter anymore! I have magic now! It's no…"
"Don't talk so loudly about that, Ruiko. Not even here."
"It's not much, but being able to summon fire is better than anything I'd ever done in school! Do you remember the time when I told you about when we fought Therestina?"
"Of course, I remember everything you say."
"Misaka-san was able to bring the whole place down on her head, and Shirai-san could teleport all over, without so much as a strain. Uiharu couldn't do much with her ability, but at least she has one! I couldn't do anything to help anyone, and now, that's changed! I can finally do SOMETHINGI! Just… let me come with you. Please. Just let me help this once, so I can feel like I've accomplished SOMETHING in Academy City, even if I don't use an esper ability to accomplish it!"
Regardless of the fact that Saten Ruiko had taken his right hand into both of her own, and was clamping down on it with enough force to nearly rend flesh and shatter bone, Hamasaki Tsubasa didn't immediately offer a verbal response.
Instead, he merely contemplated, thinking silently to himself, giving life to thoughts, which would then careen about the confines of his higher mind, bouncing against proverbial, fleshy walls and travelling great distances, winding and weaving through nonexistent passageways.
Hamasaki Tsubasa grunted, like an enraged animal.
Tilting his head, and craning his neck to face the level zero esper who'd only recently discovered a tiny, miniscule portion of 'the Other Side', Hamasaki Tsubasa, the fourth strongest esper on the planet looked directly into Saten Ruiko's blue eyes, and spoke his piece, the best series of vocalized words he could conjure.
"Saten, do you want to see Hell that badly? I can show you Hell. Should you decide to come with me, you're going to see Hell. You're going to stare into Hell, and it's going to stare back."
Though she said nothing, Ruiko nodded her head, yes.
She'd come to regret her decision before the end, and he knew it.
February 11th, 2004. 7:10 PM
A sound was echoing throughout the open concept office; with very few walls at all for the repeated, rhythmic sounds to bounce against, Gladio Director Sugou's private line rang aloud, repeatedly, as if desperate for attention.
This 'line' was, in fact, not any sort of landline communication means, but rather a mobile device. Aside from bolstering a closed-shell operating system, connected to a private mobile network in which it had to share with no other device, friendly, hostile or otherwise, it wasn't all that peculiar. There were far more impressive pieces of technology.
For whatever curious reasoning his higher mind thought appropriate to dwell upon, these were the sorts of thoughts which drifted through the higher mind of Gladio's Director as he answered the incoming call, originating from an unknown source.
What an amusing distraction from 'the grind', indeed.
Leaning forward, resting his right arm's elbow upon the polished, wooden surface of his monolithic desk, Gladio's Director Hideyoshi Sugou raised his cellular device to his ear. Speaking softly, his gruff, vaguely scratchy vocalizations formed words, delivered directly into his mobile device's nigh-invisible external microphone.
"What're you looking for? Maybe I can help you find it."
"Agreeable as always, Sugou; I do find myself looking forward to our interactions."
"Oh? Well, well, well, if it isn't Aleister… I've been missing you, my friend."
"You rely too heavily on the game pieces placed upon your side of the board, Sugou. Should you decide to reject my advice, consider the following. I'm interfering with your operation."
"Nuh? Not you, that's not like yourself at all, Aleister. You wouldn't go and do something so brash. What's bothering you? What's the issue? Something's gotten you riled up, Aleister. Sharing is caring."
The firm, almost stubborn tone of voice in which Aleister Crowley spoke was an indicator of his foul mood. A silent, unspoken warning. All further complaints would be masked beneath the guise of sarcasm.
Then again, Academy City's General Superintendent would likely pick up on said guise with considerable swiftness. Whether their 'friendship' – if a business relationship on friendly terms could actually be called that – would manage to hold out was a matter that'd be seen as time passed.
"Voidwalker has officially become a liability. Sugou, from this point forward, you are to use whatever means become necessary to terminate it with extreme prejudice… hm. I've always wanted to say that. With as much devotion as I possess to give rise to SYSTEM, the Last Order is too important to remain unmolested.
"Voidwalker intends not to heed his command issues from on high, and, subsequently, Voidwalker, the Operative you've assigned with this task threatens to jeopardize much of what I have built. Halt its plans before they can even begin to take root, Sugou. I would do so myself, but my attention must presently remain elsewhere."
Though it seemed at a proverbial first glance that their conversation had come to its end, and, Hideyoshi Sugou wasn't about to doubt the capabilities of UNDER_LINE, one query remained within his higher mind, unvoiced, but certainly wishing to be vocalized in the world beyond its mind-womb.
"Aleister, would a question faze you?"
"No."
"What, per say, besides being an insecure, unstable and particularly rowdy youngster has the Voidwalker done to earn your ire? Could he not simply be interned in a Reformatory?"
"Academy City's security is jeopardized. The Main Plan may be finished. Regardless, the Last Order must cease to be, even if the Main Plan lives. The Main Plan is useless to achieving SYSTEM, presently. As such, the Last Order is little more than a threat to national security. I've permitted the Last Order to exist thus far only out of curiosity. That curiosity, Sugou, is now sated."
"Oh. So, it's all part of your own little scheme, or, related to your little scheme, at the core of things… I understand. In fact, I've already set to dealing with the issue myself, without your prodding, Aleister. Do keep an eye out; you might find yourself entertained! Ah, of course, forgive me for neglecting to ask, Aleister. You don't have any present use for the Meltdowner, by any chance?"
"None."
"If grievous bodily harm inflicted upon the Meltdowner, perhaps resulting in brain death, would SYSTEM be compromised?"
"Not particularly. Do as you will, Sugou. All I ask is that you ensure the national security of Academy City while I attend to important matters of my own."
February 11th, 2004. 7:22 PM.
Elsewhere in Academy City's seventh school district, another mobile device began to blare its ringing tone.
Rather than ringing out within a massive, open-concept office, this mobile device rang out within a family restaurant. Placed upon one of many dining tables within Joseph's Coffee and Restaurant, the smartphone belonging to Mugino Shizuri notified its owner not of an incoming call, but instead of an incoming textual message, delivered in the form of electronic mail.
Stirring her carbonated soda, poured into a tall, curved glass, Mugino Shizuri's gaze turned downward, toward the vibrating, repeatedly-bleeping device which seemed to be desperate to call out for her attention.
Older, elegant and refined; long, flowing tea-colored hair traversed her shoulders, and, sprouting from the crown of her head, its bangs danced along the surface of her neck. Her hair's fringe was hastily swept to the side of her forehead, forced away from her hazel eyes. Sporting a light-colored, frilly blouse, Shizuri wore darkened, completely opaque leggings, which stretched of her lower limbs like a second layer of flesh, so tightly did they cling to her. Accompanying her leggings were simple flats, light in coloration, matching her blouse.
The mobile device's repeated vibrations echoed across the table's surface subsequently caught the respective attentions of fellow ITEM mercenaries Kinuhata Saiai and Frenda Seivelun, both of whom sat directly across from the fifth-ranked level five.
The former individual was a small girl, adorned in a white sweater-dress which had been hemmed specifically to accommodate the contours of her underdeveloped, if curvy form. With legs clad in stockings, striped with pink and white and feet clad in almost absurdly tiny trainers, the small girl, with her brown hair styled into a bobcut raised her head, looking away from the magazine she'd previously taken to reading from.
The latter individual was an equally petite young woman, who dressed more formally than the former. With a torso clad in a dark-colored sailor uniform, a slim waist adorned in a white pleated skirt, she wore darkened, near opaque stockings upon her legs, which were accented by a pair of simple, if stylish buckled pumps. Sprouting downward from the crown of her head, long, curled golden hair was topped with a dark beret.
Seemingly, Frenda physically jumped in place, once the reality of cellular contact set in, within her higher mind's contemplations. Leaning forward, the petite mercenary slammed her fists down upon the surface of the dining table, and effectively knocking her own phone into the air.
The news article she'd been reading had been abandoned.
"Mugino, please tell me that someone has something for us to do, basically, I'm going to die of boredom. Beating up a courier, blowing up some facilities, murdering some scientists, basically, anything is better than nothing at this rate. Whatever happened to the guy who had us blowing up lingerie shops? He paid well! Tell me it's so, Mugino! Tell me it's something!"
Having looked away from the pages of her magazine, Kinuhata Saiai tilted her little head to the side.
"I'm super with Frenda; I could do with some extra money. I've super had to dip into my life savings lately, and it's interfering with my future plans! Nothing interferes with my plans! I super won't allow it!"
It was then that Mugino Shizuri placed her straw between her lips, and took a brief sip, forcing carbonated soda up through the straw, and into her mouth. It swished, for a moment, before she swallowed and began to address those who may as well have been considered her underlings.
"I know the both of you have been antsy. Yes, there're two jobs available, tailored specifically for ITEM supposedly, and it's going to pay well for a fucking change. Just received the 'OK' for the first from whatever motherfucker is okaying all of this shady business. So buck up and get your affairs in order, Kinuhata, Frenda. We leave in five."
As one, both Kinuhata Saiai and Frenda Seivelun, the level four esper, user of the ability identified as "Offense Armor", and the level three mercenary girl who, in conjunction with her ability, Violence Donut, utilized advanced, heavily-modified weaponry spoke aloud.
"Yes, Mugino!"