After a long period of glitch-addled struggling here on our platform, I've returned to you, my readers, once again with a new chapter! Let's get right into good, old review response time.
The One: Someone gets it! Finally, someone gets it! This is exactly the sort of portrayal I was reaching out for. I wanted not specifically to highlight how 'powerful' 'Shell Touma' is, but just how cunning and manipulative he/it is. As you've already discovered for yourself, he doesn't even need to lift a finger against the Mad Tritonian, Abraxas; the One has already won through scheming alone.
I have to admit, I haven't forgiven 'Shell Touma' for what he did to Misaki in NT22R. I intend, here, to provide the One with suitable comeuppance.
Whwsms: Perhaps even Accelerator himself views his own existence in such ways. He certainly doesn't seem to be performing at his best, does he? Compare his current conflict with Kamijou Touma and his blossoming Faction to the instances of conflict shared by Touma and Accelerator in Academy City's seventeenth school district, or Russia. The equilibrium has been disturbed, no doubt. As for the surviving denizens of the MISAKA Network, you'll just have to wait on that.
I absolutely wanted to explain how, exactly, Hyouka was able to manifest. Hyouka is exceedingly powerful as an individual, but she's fundamentally limited by her inability to manifest without the presence of AIM Fields. To the characters, it would seem like a Deus Ex Machine, and that's fine. But, I felt I needed to inform you, my lovely readers, a bit more.
Chris: Kamijou Touma certainly has changed a lot, hasn't he? I suppose, when you're strapped up, tortured, and forcibly infected with a cybernetic, engineered virus that replaces your entire body with hyper adaptive machine phase-matter, you're probably not going to come out as you were when you went in. Especially not when you're someone who has already suffered as much as Touma has.
As you're well aware, trying to bruteforce someone like Accelerator is a fruitless endeavor. He's the anti-bruteforce. Kamijou Touma, without Imagine Breaker, was forced to improvise – with the aid of his new and improved, forcibly ascended machine-mind.
Kaza-kiri, Kaza-kiri, does whatever a flying invisible girl can!
You're onto something regarding Accelerator's own guilt and view of himself in the present. Hold that thought, friend.
I can't say too much more without potentially leaving behind a very long trail of spoilers, so, I'll bid you farewell. As always, I appreciate your kind words greatly, my friend. I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter, and subsequent chapters, as well!
February 10th, 2004. 5:03 PM.
Despite their best, combined efforts, neither Tsuchimikado Motoharu nor the many-faced Aztec magician, Etzali, had managed to turn up even a single lead. For all intents and purposes, their quarry had all but disappeared; she might as well have vanished into a puff of smoke.
"I don't feel like you're taking this seriously enough." Motoharu spoke aloud, mania in his voice. The spy grabbed Etzali by either of his shoulders. The Backstabbing Blade's digits dug into the Aztec magician's suit jacket, wrinkling it considerably beneath the considerable pressure they exerted. "See, here, whether Accel-chan comes back empty-handed, or with a confirmed kill, if that clone of his can't be accounted for…"
"I'm aware of the circumstances." Brushing the spy's hands from his suit jacket like they were so much dirt, Etzali rolled his shoulders and aggressively sighed. Leaning against the surface of the nearby Dark Matter jet, the Aztec magician, wearing the false façade he was so fond of wearing stuffed either of his hands into his suit pants' pockets. "There's something you haven't considered, however, Tsuchimikado. What if Accelerator doesn't come back? It's always a possibility."
"Hah."
Sneering, Tsuchimikado continued to cast his gaze all about, here and there, in search of a certain clone. Someone like Misaka Worst wasn't all that easy to miss; and yet, she'd gone missing without so much as a single trace.
"Good joke. Is this how you handle tight spots? Cracking jokes? It's admirable, in its own way, I guess."
There were no further words exchanged between the two GROUP operatives.
February 10th, 2004. 5:15 PM.
Being distant from earshot permitted the malicious-minded clone of Misaka Mikoto, the girl who was intended to be used as a repository of the vast MISAKA Network's emotional and mental negativity finally took the skies. Repeatedly detonating the oxygen surrounding her form, Misaka Worst utilized the sheer force to propel herself, accelerating perpetually with each individual burst.
The open fields, with their swaying, seemingly endless expanses of natural, healthy-green grasslands left little in the way of potential obstacles for Misaka Worst. Moreover, the possibility of becoming lost was minimized. This place, this 'England', was nothing at all like Academy City, with its winding mazes of urban jungle.
She was on the right path. The malicious-minded clone's brow furrowed. A slight frown tugged at her face. Worst had every reason to be concerned, and, more to the point, upset.
She'd heard it all.
"Tou-san can't kill the Savior… Misaka won't allow it. Misaka normally wouldn't care… Misaka felt this before. Misaka felt this in Russia, when she first met Tou-san… Misaka knows this feeling too well. In a way, Misaka revels in it."
Worst didn't merely monologue to herself. Another answered within her mind. Another who was part of this hivemind to which nearly ten thousand unique, thinking individuals were interconnected at once.
"Misaka believes Accelerator is acting only out of desperation and concern for the Control Tower and the Malicious One, Misaka explains, attempting to rationalize Accelerator's sudden change of heart."
"Hush, ten thousand thirty-two. Misaka doesn't need your babbling right now. You wouldn't understand. Misaka feels things you can't. Not even the Control Tower can feel what Misaka feels."
There was a monstrous explosion, then; something white. It emanated, forming into the shape' of a dome. It expanded outwards, omnidirectional and terrible to look upon. It was as white as the Accelerator's very own hair.
Worst followed it. She followed the continuous reverberations, surging across and over the expanses of field as she turned in place, then detonated the oxygen around her form once more to accelerate in another direction. Towards the explosion, which was only just beginning to taper off. White, stringy tendrils lashed at the atmosphere itself. They wrestled violently with tendrils of golden-white.
Misaka Worst couldn't have immediately known it, but, she witnessed a battle between angels on Earth. One who was born of that power, and one who appropriated it for his own purposes.
The world itself seemed to shake. Just as Worst nearly lost her nerve while in midair, a sight caught the malicious-minded clone's eye that made both of her eyes' lids widen.
It was her 'boyfriend', the one with whom she could sate her lust, when it became bothersome. Her guardian. The pallid, white-haired boy who was originally intended to be seen by her as a father figure, an adoptive protector.
The feelings Misaka Worst held in her darkened heart were complex. Much more complex than a simple "all's well, and you're forgiven" after their meeting in Russia. The vast majority of the MISAKA Network – its 'Control Tower' included, forgave him. Looked the other way, accepted what had been wrought upon them, and accepted Accelerator as a broken spirit, groomed from childhood by Academy City's darkest elements for a very specific purpose.
They couldn't feel what Worst could feel. They were simply incapable of it. Even if those Sisters had wanted to, they couldn't. This was Worst's function. To feel for them.
And feel she did. Feel she always had.
Repeatedly, his limp form slammed into the grass, rolling, crashing, before finally coming to a rest from which he, Accelerator, Academy City's 'top dog' did not embrace. Violently shuddering, he rose.
"ACCELERATOR!"
Despite herself, even as her temples violent throbbed and she experienced the desire to regurgitate, Misaka Worst was at his side in less than a moment's time. With swiftness unrivalled, the clone accelerated her way towards him, and landed upon the grass with a vicious skid that tore up entire swathes of the natural, green outgrowth.
"Worst… Worst, what the FUCK?! What the FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
"Misaka followed you! Misa—"
"SHUT UP! You fucking idiot!"
Still shuddering, nearly collapsing beneath the weight of his body, Academy City's strongest spat out a stringy globule of lifeblood, and a chipped tooth.
"What's this then, Accel?"
That voice was Kamijou Touma's. Yet, it did not originate from Kamijou Touma. Misaka Worst knew Kamijou Touma, the spikey-haired boy that the entire Misaka Network, those which yet lived, recognized as 'the Savior'. The living hero who had brought an end to the Level Six Shift experiments. The hero who had humbled the Accelerator. The hero who had saved nearly ten thousand lives.
Misaka Worst did not see Kamijou Touma.
She saw, instead, an abomination. A swarming, human-shaped abomination of machine phase-matter that walked towards her boyfriend and protector with two jagged, bloodied blade-like protrusions jutting from his wrists, where hands should have been, but weren't.
Laying eyes upon the clone – who he recognized as resembling a slightly different, perhaps matured Misaka Mikoto – Kamijou Touma reappeared. His outer layer of phase-matter worked itself into place, darting about like small insects striding upon the surface of a still body of water. Flattened, dark-coloured hair formed, as did Kamijou Touma's natural skin and even his full set of clothing.
Yet, those blades remained. This fact seemed to perturb even Touma himself, who gave either of his hands several, repeated shakes. The protruding, jagged weapons clashed with his overall 'normal' appearance.
"Hey, woah. Smooth moves. Smooth moves. It's me, Worst. I don't blame you for being scared; I'd be scared, too. I'd be scared pretty bad. I'm not at my most handsome right now, that's for sure. But it's me. It's Kamijou-san. I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
He was not alone. Misaka Worst's eyes darted from one individual to another, none of whom she recognized.
Almost.
Worst, of course, recognized her elder sister. The big sister who still held the weight of over ten thousand lost souls upon her shoulders, her pain and grief still as deep as the day she'd learned of those horrible experiments, and of her beloved, precious little Sisters.
"Onee-sama…?"
Misaka Mikoto approached, her head bowed. Slowly, repeatedly, tears dripped from her shuttered eyelids. They fell onto the grass below, individual tears sliding almost elegantly downwards along individual, tall blades of grass.
"Your big sister is right here."
Electricity crackled around the third-ranked level five esper. It formed into enormous, arcing masses which rose and fell like the tides of an ocean wracked by a storm's howling winds.
Musujime Awaki, Saint Lessar, and even a stern-faced Kazakiri Hyouka stayed their respective hands.
"Stupid glitches."
Kamijou Touma continued to shake his hands; eventually, he found success. Some moments passed before the protruding blades fell apart, descending into two masses of surging nanorobotic machine phase-matter. It took some few moments more for natural-seeming, humanlike hands to reform in the place of those jagged weapons of war.
Words were lost to him. He didn't quite know what to say.
"Accelerator, you can't do this. Misaka won't let you. Misaka knows why this is happening, and you're an idiot for getting caught up in their schemes. Misaka won't ever forgive you, if you hurt the Savior."
"To protect you fucking brats…"
Accelerator stared Kamijou Touma down directly. He ignored those who weren't his primary foe, the one who had, so many times, deprived him rightfully of his title as 'top dog' of all espers.
"… I'll just have to fucking accept being hated by you!"
Accelerator, manipulating kinetic momentum beneath him, rushed forward. He rushed forward with such blinding speed that he ceased to be human, on a physical level. He had become a blur of white, something which could only be vaguely comprehended, but not witnessed by the human mind.
This mattered not to Kamijou Touma, who no longer possessed such a thing. His heightened state of cosmic awareness permitted him to comprehend this situation with logic, and logic alone. Unrestrained by weakening coils of human consciousness – panic, fear, and nervousness – Kamijou casually 'blocked' these emotions from interfering with his efforts.
There was only one synthetic emotion which Kamijou Touma needed his higher, forcibly-ascended mind to experience in this moment.
Rage.
Misaka Mikoto had darted around, avoiding the oncoming Accelerator altogether. With her arms open, weeping freely, she closed the distance between herself and her younger sister.
In a moment, she held Worst tightly in her arms. Mikoto tightened her embrace, and brought her precious, beloved little sister down upon the grass with her.
"J-Just h-h-hold me, W-Worst… D-Don't… Look… W-Whatever you d-do… D-Don't look. B… B-Big sister is right here."
"Onee-sama! Get off Misaka! Misaka has to…"
"Worst."
Despite the conflict raging behind them, just out of Mikoto's sight, she responded merely by pressing either of her hands to the back of her younger sister's head, and cocooning her own clone gently in her arms.
"Just close your eyes, o-okay? Big sister… Big sister won't let anything happen to you. I've already f-f… f-failed you… Too many times. I-It… It won't happen… Again."
Worst said nothing more.
Even as Kazakiri Hyouka and Saint Lessar descended into the fray, joining Kamijou Touma. Musujime Awaki, perhaps in an effort to 'contribute', teleported enormous, torn chunks of earth at Accelerator, fruitlessly. At the very least, Awaki's efforts occupied Accelerator's wings, partially.
It all happened in a moment's flash; Touma's hand 'fell apart', descended into a mass of swarming, surging machine-phase matter, which then reformed into a jagged, protruding blade, phase-matter hardening and becoming exceedingly dense. Swung in an upward arc, only to be reeled back with enough force to produce an audible snapping in the air at the absolute last moment, Kamijou hit his mark.
Accelerator's arm, starting at the shoulder.
The automatic reflection Academy City's 'top dog' had come to rely upon had been turned against him.
"How…?"
Not by Kihara Amata, nor any other Kihara, for that matter. None who knew of that monstrous man's 'reversal technique' were present. As far as Accelerator had known, Kamijou had never met Kihara Amata once.
And, yet, Kihara Amata's 'reversal technique' had been employed against him. Not a mere punch to the face, nor a blow to the gut, nor a series of repeated, harsh kicks.
Accelerator had lost his own right arm.
The bloodied, mangled stump where his right arm had once rested sprayed bursts of lifeblood. Nerve endings dangled, limp. What bone remained, having found itself exposed rather unceremoniously, had been sliced, clean. A perfect cut.
Ignoring the pain as best he could, Accelerator skidded to a halt, forcing the kinetic momentum beneath him to cease. Quickly manipulating the vectors of his own body's bloodstream, Academy City's strongest prevented himself from bleeding out, there and then.
But, even with all of his own vast power, he couldn't reattach a limb. He couldn't simply slap his arm back into place, manipulate its vectors, and restore the shredded nerves and cleaved bone.
With his vector manipulation occupied, his Personal Reality busy focusing on redirecting the flow of his blood throughout his entire body, another had taken advantage of Accelerator's vulnerability.
Just as a certain, deceased researcher had tried to, in the recent past.
Unlike Amai Ao, whose efforts had spectacularly failed, Musujime Awake succeeded.
She teleported a mass of sharpened rock directly into Accelerator's back. Past his flesh, deep into his musculature. For the first time in a very long time, he felt pain. Pain that was so deeply unbearable, pain that was so unspeakably horrid, he couldn't even speak.
The manic, insane howl which was ripped, then, from Accelerator's throat seemed to echo all throughout the vast, open fields. The grass swayed beneath it, as if rising and bowing in the presence of his rage.
A small frown tugged at Awaki's lips.
"You deserve it."
"What did I tell you, Accel?" As Kamijou Touma casually strutted towards his foe, his arm fell once again into surging, arcing masses of machine phase-matter. Like a swarm of flesh-eating insects, the mass travelled to Accelerator's dismembered limb, and firstly, stripped away fabric, then, stripped clean the flesh and musculature. The mass worked its way through solid bone, reducing the severed arm to little more than dust. Rejoining their main mass, the nanorobotic matter settled, and reformed into a functional hand. "What did I tell you about the pain I'm going to make you feel?"
Misaka Mikoto had ensured that her younger sister's eyes had not only remained closed, but obscured by the presence of her chest. Holding Worst close to her, repeatedly running her fingertips through the malevolent clone's hair with the sort of gentle, tender touch she would've given onto her own infant child, if she'd had one, Mikoto did her best to offer assurance.
"Onee-sama!" The silence between them was broken. Worst was attempting to free herself from her elder sister's will and grasp. "Onee-sama, let Misaka go! Misaka has to… Misaka has to save Accelerator!"
She saw her guardian's stump, where an arm had once been.
The clone's eyelids nearly split open, so wide did they distance from one another. Worst's pupils dilated at the sight. The shredded musculature which remained, barely clinging to the stump. The nerve endings dangling, limp. The jutting bone. It was all far, far too much for Misaka Worst to look upon.
"Onee-sama… ONEE-SAMA!"
"I know, Worst!" Mikoto exclaimed, nearly screaming in her own grief. She fought her younger sister, forcing her into an embrace from which she didn't intend to depart. "I know it hurts! I KNOW! BUT THIS HAS TO END!"
Their eyes locked. Younger sister and elder sister stared into one another, perhaps past one another. In Misaka Worst, Misaka Mikoto saw herself. In Misaka Mikoto, Misaka Worst saw what she would never be.
"… Onee-sama… You're right. Misaka has been clinging to something that was fucking stupid. Misaka can't believe she was such an idiot this whole time. Maybe Misaka didn't want to be alone. Maybe Misaka deluded herself. Onee-sama… Misaka… Misaka… Misaka is hurting. Misaka is hurting... So much."
This uncharacteristic, candid explanation of her feelings left Worst's big sister utterly taken aback. All she could do, in the end, was tighten her embrace, and quietly weep.
"I-It's o-okay, Worst… It's… I-It's all g-going to be okay. Big sister is going to… T-Take care of you from n-now on."
Kamijou Touma's approach hastened. "Even after it's all said and done, you're still causing them pain," he stayed clearly and plainly. "Look what you're doing to Worst, just by existing. You're the lowest scum this Earth has to offer. Down in there somewhere, in that sadistic, black heart of yours, I think you know it too, Accel."
Both of Kamijou's hands, manipulated by his passively-generated magnetic field, reformed into those jagged, protruding blades. Their surfaces swarmed with currents of machine phase-matter.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry it had to be like this, Accel. Maybe, in some other place and time, we could've been friends. Just not one to throw my hands up in the air and monologue about saving smiles, anymore… You're not leaving me with a lot of choices. Not as I am now, knowing what I know. With this freedom."
Aleister Crowley, in his Windowless Building, in the heart of Academy City's seventh school district did not possess vision which stretched beyond Academy City's walls. UNDER_LINE had not been dispersed out into the greater world.
Of course, he didn't need it. It, of course, had been he who ultimately provided the authorization for the kill order on that which remained of Kamijou Touma passed up through the proverbial food chain of Gladio-Oculus.
"If matters go south with the Main Plan, there is always the Spare Plan."
Accelerator didn't even bother to try and dislodge the sharpened, jagged stone lodged within his musculature. With every slight movement he made, it tore into him, tearing tendons and shredding his body. His enormous, white, feathery wings retracted, withering and falling away like dying leaves dropping from the branches of a tree. The halo above his head dispersed, leaving nothing more than sparkling dust behind in its wake.
What had happened to Kamijou Touma, his idealized hero? The one who had inspired him to walk the path to redemption? The one who had taught him that this world was much more than a shithole, filled to the brim with absolute evil?
That goddamn hero he knew, Kamijou Touma, never would have approached him like this, with deadly intent. Kamijou Touma never would have spoken the way this horrid, sick mockery spoke.
Yet, there were traces of Kamijou Touma within this parody of him. This Kamijou Touma still fought for justice, for his ideals. Even if those ideals had been twisted and warped. He was still, in his own way, trying to play the hero.
"You fucking hero…"
Accelerator spat a globule of lifeblood from his mouth.
"Promise me something."
Kamijou's approach was unabated. He walked as a paragon of confidence, complete truth to his own self. With each step he took, Academy City's 'top dog', the strongest one there was, witnessed the approach of his own death.
"Depends on what that is, Accel. Don't expect me to suddenly go bending over backwards for a murderous piece of garbage like you."
The malice in Kamijou's voice struck Accelerator harder than any physical blow could have.
"The brats… Take care of the fucking brats. Make sure nothing happens to them. Academy City is going to be fucking gunning for them as soon as they realize I'm… Gone."
"You're surrendering to me, then?"
"Yeah. End this shit. Fucking end it, if you're not a coward, hero. Don't walk away from your fucking responsibilities."
"Pleasure's all mine."
Kamijou Touma's higher, forcibly ascended mind quickly analyzed the situation, and Accelerator's brain. A single, microscopic nanorobotic phase-matter structure departed from the main mass, and buzzed silently around the 'top dog's' head. Guided by its master's ascended mind, it faithfully delivered onto Touma that which he required.
A complete scan of the Accelerator's undamaged brain.
"HIGHMIND TERMINAL:/ FORCE PROTOCOL LAUNCH ROUTINE. "SCAN" SYSTEMS PROTOCOL. LAUNCHING. SCAN COMPLETED. RESULTS COMPILED FOR VIEWING.
"Thanks, uh, me. So, that's where the Personal Reality is generated. The pineal gland. Accelerator's is overdeveloped. Explains why his ability grew in power the way it did. With that in mind… It's time to get stabby."
Faster than that which could be comprehended by the human brain, Touma thrust his jagged, protruding blade-arm outwards; its hooked, jutting tip was retracted at the absolute last moment.
Again, Accelerator's own automatic reflection, that which he partially relied upon to maintain his status as Academy City's strongest was turned against him.
The jagged tip pierced his forehead. It pierced his skull, causing bone fragments to shatter and forcibly eject outwards from the point of impact.
But, Accelerator did not die. Even as his pineal gland was pierced by the echoing force, he lived on.
His capacity for generating a Personal Reality, however, did not.
He who was the most powerful among nearly two and a half million individuals, the vast majority of whom were fellow espers, had been reduced, effectively, to the status of a level zero. A failure. A completely inert human, no different than any other average human being.
Exposed to the sun's UV rays for the first time, Accelerator found his very skin to burn and crackle beneath it. The heat, which he certainly felt was unnatural, provided a painful, unfamiliar experience. His eyelids slid closed as he experienced the full force of the sunlight's bright, glowing rays for the first time, without the protection of his esper ability.
Darkness was being burnt away by the presence of light.
"How fucking poetic."
Accelerator recognized this for what it was, and smirked, weakly. Even as the simple act of doing so pained him.
This was retribution. This was revenge. This was Kamijou Touma's 'new' way of meting out justice. It was humiliation. A complete stripping of his vast power, that which originated from within his mind, his very own Personal Reality. Being robbed of that which made Accelerator, Accelerator, was a fitting punishment.
He had robbed over ten thousand living, breathing, thinking human beings of their lives in his own, selfish pursuit of godhood. For whatever reasons he might have held within his heart and mind. The Accelerator could tell himself, over and over, that he'd only sought to save lives by transcending level five, and reaching effective godhood. Level six.
"That's fucking shit, and you know it."
And, so, Accelerator would be robbed.
"I'll protect Last Order and Worst. Of course, I will. Even if they hate me for doing what I'm about to do to you. Did you think I wouldn't? What did you think I was going to do? Go prance around, peachy happy, and completely forget about them? No."
"That's all I can ask for from you."
Without a personal reality, without his ability, his namesake – Accelerator – there was nothing to stop Kamijou Touma from lifting Academy City's once-strongest from the grass below by his neck. Kamijou's cold digits enwrapped the Accelerator's spindly neck easily.
They pushed inwards with such force that Academy City's 'top dog' was almost immediately robbed of the capacity to inhale so much as a single breath of fresh air. Struggling, wheezing, his physically underdeveloped form began to thrash wildly in panic. Slowly, his eyes, with their crimson irises, physically degenerated further, becoming bloodshot.
In time, lifeblood began to trickle from Accelerator's tear ducts, combining with his own, warm, wet tears as they dripped downward, along his cheeks.
Kamijou Touma did not shy away from this act of brutality he brought upon the Accelerator, nor did he particularly revel in it. This was merely that which should have been done, but hadn't been. It was the completion of unfinished business.
Musujime Awaki and Kazakiri Hyouka were not made of such stern stuff, and turned from the sight. Saint Lessar seemed more perturbed than anything else. Saint Lessar, unsure of what to even do, merely stood still.
"Don't look," Mikoto repeated to her younger sister, ensuring Worst's face remained firmly pressed into her shirt. It was soaking wet, drenched, in fact, with her clone's tears. Mikoto hardly cared. It was entirely replaceable. Worst, as a unique individual onto herself, one among her dearly beloved, precious Sisters was not. "B-Big sister's g-got you."
His pallid flesh overcome by the presence of blue-purple blotches, his lips unnaturally darkened, Accelerator, Academy City's once-strongest fell limp, held aloft by his own, idealistic hero.
"This is for the Sisters, "strongest one."
With a final, agonizing crunch, Accelerator's spindly neck was snapped. Kamijou pushed with force, continually, steadily applying greater pressure, until he was convinced that the Accelerator would not suddenly rise and lunge upon him, escaping from death's grip.
Like he was little more than so much trash being tossed into the back of a garbage disposal truck, Touma tossed Academy City's 'top dog' to the swaying, healthy green grass below. Falling, limp and lifeless with a thud, there was nothing left. Only an empty, hollow carcass, with a dead brain and a heart that had ceased beating.
As if he wished to ensure finality in this moment, Kamijou thrust a single, jutting blade-arm deep into Accelerator's head. It crashed through his forehead, parting bone effortlessly and cleaving through grey matter. The blade's jagged, gleaming edge pierced through the back of Accelerator's head, causing lifeblood to spill from both wounds, entry and exit, like the flowing currents of a small river.
There were no celebrations to be had. There was to be no cheering, nor congratulations.
Touma retracted his bladed arm, and observed with caution as it resettled, masses of arcing, swarming nanorobotic machine phase-matter reforming into a functional hand, complete with its outer sheen of humanlike phase-matter.
Despite herself, Lessar offered up a silent prayer.
Musujime Awaki merely shook her head, as if to say, "what a mess."
Kazakiri Hyouka nodded affirmatively, her expression stern. Her usual, characterizing kindness had all but faded in this moment, falling away, revealing that which laid behind the mask; someone who quietly empathized with the ten thousand lost souls mowed down, bulldozed, butchered, obliterated by this monster, the Accelerator. Hyouka seemed to approve even more than Touma himself did. Perhaps, because she, like them, was 'artificial'.
Touma didn't know what he was supposed to feel.
"Is this victory? It doesn't feel much like victory… I can't let Worst see this. She'll be all sorts of traumatized…"
"Kamijou."
Awaki was the first to break the silence that had descended. A bold and particularly brave act, Touma felt. She approached him and their respective gazes met, as two equals observing one another.
Touma spoke nothing in response, but merely raised an eyebrow quizzically at Move Point, whose own approach had been as unabated as his own. She strode with purpose, purposefully going out of her way to avoid looking down at the destroyed corpse that had once been her 'coworker'.
"I don't have much room to talk; I was a part of this too, you know. But this was a long time coming. If it wasn't you, someone else would have, somewhere along the line. This was necessary."
Kamijou could see the limousine that had reversed considerably as the battle had unfolded returning. It parted wide swathes of grass in its path as it quietly approached, its tires occasionally rising and falling as they clambered over sections of naturally hilly terrain. Occasionally, the vehicle swerved to avoid a chunk of dislodged earth that had been tossed haphazardly.
"You're right, Musujime."
"I know I really don't have a place to talk about this, but, they had every intention of letting him get away with it."
Before Touma could respond, another offered their response in his stead.
"You were in a dark place, Musujime-san. You made mistakes. I-I… I'm sure my Sisters forgive you. I already h-have… But… Him?"
Currents of electricity were loosed from Misaka Mikoto's hunched form. Still, she clung tightly to her beloved younger sister, Worst.
"He…He… Didn't just make mistakes! He… can't ever be forgiven! Even now, I STILL CAN'T! I won't EVER!"
That made enough sense to Kamijou. Accelerator's end wasn't going to magically bring Misaka Mikoto's smile back. It wasn't going to help her recover from all of this. Perhaps, she never would recover from all of this.
"As a Saint and as a Christian," Lessar began, her tone of voice uncharacteristically morose, "I'll see to the burial."
"No, I don't think you will," Touma stated flatly. "Doesn't deserve one."
"I stand firmly with Kamijou-san," Hyouka remarked. This mean spirit that seemed to have come over her disturbed Kamijou, but ultimately, he declined bringing that particular incoming burst of data to any attention. Without Accelerator's exceedingly powerful AIM Field, she seemed to find difficulty in maintaining her existence. Hyouka repeatedly 'flashed', disappearing and reappearing in brief intervals.
"S-So do I," Mikoto snarled, electricity jumping from her shoulders, freely crackling and heating the atmosphere around her.
"Compromise?"
Musujime Awaki found herself the mediator; if no one else was going to, she'd have to take charge and ensure infighting didn't result.
"Burial at sea."
That seemed to be an agreeable compromise. None objected, at the very least.
"My ability will handle it," she spoke, making an effort to explain the specifics as best she could, given her muddled state of mind.
With a simple tap to the corpse's limp arm, Awaki performed the necessary calculations – but only after saying "goodbye'", quietly and under her breath. In that moment, a corpse with a gaping mouth, widened eyelids and discolored, pallid skin, the Move Point girl didn't know what to think of her former coworker. Was he a monster? Had he been just as much a victim as the Sisters? Had he been something in between?
The corpse was gone in the time it would have taken the average person to blink, sent plummeting into the crashing waves of the North Sea. Occasional trips with her sea-faring parents had permitted Awaki to understand, and visualize the exact location she'd 'dropped off' the limp, lifeless corpse within.
There would be nothing left. The sea, and all of the sea's carnivorous lifeforms would consume the corpse before long.
Academy City's 'top dog', the strongest esper on Earth, one who could have effortlessly fought off every army of every nation on the entire planet without lifting a single finger, reduced to fish food.
"It's over…" Mikoto muttered, finally releasing her grip upon her younger sister, Misaka Worst, even as Worst didn't relinquish her own. Her arms fell limp at her sides. Mental and emotional exhaustion overcame Academy City's third-ranked level five. Bewildered, still trying to understand if any of this was even real, she muttered, "You did it. I really can't believe… I can't… You actually did it. He's… He's dead. Accelerator's… Gone. Just like that."
Pulling up alongside the formed group, several doors of Oriana Thomson's commandeered limousine were opened from within the vehicle.
"It's over, Mikoto," Touma spoke, offering what reassurance he could in this unprecedented situation. Reality, it seemed, was beginning to only just set in. A level five had died. A level five esper was no longer in the world. Snuffed out, like a candle's flame muted by the swift cupping of a hand's digits. Accelerator, the number one strongest esper, he who was untouchable, immutable, omnipotent - one above all - lived no longer. "He'll never hurt anyone again."
Misaka Mikoto rushed into that not-boy's cold arms, embraced him tightly, and simply held him. She held onto him for dear life. Mikoto held onto Touma as if her very life depended on it.
In a development she couldn't have predicted, the embrace widened, and another joined it. Musujime Awaki. In an uncharacteristic display of emotional vulnerability, the Move Point girl enwrapped both Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto in her arms. She didn't find herself rejected, not even by the Railgun girl.
This, indeed, was turning out to be a time of uncharacteristic happenings; but this was a mere distraction. All present were more than aware that this, in truth, was only the metaphorical tip of the proverbial iceberg.