Author's Note: This chapter will, aside from continuing the saga of A Certain Broken Testament, plant the seeds for something which I presently envision as a side story, one which will go hand-in-hand with the overall narrative of this fanwork while not detracting from it or 'stealing' focus from it, since it will be self-contained. You, my ever-lovely readers, can expect this side story in the future, at a date which I'm not quite ready to announce nor set in stone.
Additionally, this chapter will be a "Behind the Scenes" chapter, which will function much as those did in another fanwork I've written, 'A Certain Strange Scenario'. While contributing to the overall narrative and helping to expand the story, this chapter will stray from the action directly concerning the blossoming Kamijou Faction. These sorts of chapters will be few and far between, so don't be too concerned about loss of focus.
Thank you for your finite time and your attention. Let's begin without further preamble, then!
As we always do around this time, let's move onto review responses! WOO!
Whwsms: RIP. Ultimately, I feel like Accelerator wanted this, to some extent or another. This was his ultimate act of redemption. That aside, I'm glad I was able to answer what inquiries and contemplations you silently held to some extent or another.
Indeed. For Musujime Awaki, this wasn't quite as easy as she might've made it seem. They worked together for quite some time, and made quite some progress as coworkers. Still, Awaki was unable to turn herself from the awful truth. This, perhaps, is what brought her to fight alongside the Kamijou Faction.
LOL! I can only imagine that. The 'new and improved' Touma corners the Backstabbing Blade in a dark alley somewhere, and with no holds barred, outright threatens not only him, but all of Academy City's upper echelons in a single, proverbial breath. Would Motoharu even know what to say?
As always, I'm certainly glad to have won your APPROVAL, my friend! I hope to hear from you again regarding future chapters.
Guest: I wore my admittedly heavy influences on my sleeve while creating Abraxas of Triton, that much is true. But, ultimately, if there's anyone to 'blame' for all of this, it's Kihara Gensei.
Chris: Let's have a moment of silence for Academy City's 'top dog'. Alright, moment of silence over. Carry on, we will! Regarding Last Order, there's not a whole lot I can say about that here and now. Not without dumping an entire truckload of spoilers. Trust me when I say no one wants that!
Of course. One doesn't simply execute the strongest esper in Academy City - and a cornerstone of Aleister Crowley's very own plans - then effortlessly get away with it, like Robin Hood slinking back into the woods following the successful raiding of some corrupt nobleman's stash.
This is certainly true, and while it certainly doesn't bode particularly well for Touma's future - for the future of the blooming Kamijou Faction itself, in truth - do remember, Aleister always has 'the Spare Plan'.
Tsuchimikado Motoharu learning of Accelerator's failure, and of Touma's 'success', if it could be called that, is another topic I would absolutely LOVE to comment on further, but can't. Spoilers, spoilers everywhere.
Picture that, LOL! The Kamijou Faction's girls tear Academy City apart in a fit of rage, while Touma himself sits back, watches on, and remarks, sipping from a glass of bourbon, "those are my girls... I'm so proud."
You're absolutely correct, my friend. Depriving Touma of the Imagine Breaker was necessary for this fanwork's narrative to have any stakes whatsoever. Moreover, without Imagine Breaker, Touma will have to learn to rely on his friends and lovers like never before, which always was, and always will be the main 'point' of this fanwork's narrative. As you've clearly discovered for yourself, this was all very purposeful on my part. With absolute power comes absolutely nothing interesting. There's powerful, and then there's overpowered. Kamijou Touma as he appears in this fanwork's continuity is powerful, but not overpowered.
As always, thank you very much for your kind and encouraging words. My one hope is to continually entertain you, my lovely readers. I hope to hear more from you regarding future chapters!
Academy City.
February 11th, 2004. 4:03 PM.
Two intelligent minds, brilliant minds unrivalled, with IQs well above levels that would've marked mere genius found themselves in a battle of wits. This battle, however, was not waged on the physical level, and it was waged without malice. This was no duel, no battering of egos.
A soft, pleasant breeze swept over the elegant, ornately-decorated balcony of Shokuhou Misaki's dorm in the Tokiwadai Exterior Dormitory. This balcony on high offered a wondrous view of the School Garden – sometimes referred to as the Garden of Learning – with its silvery-set streets tessellated in intricate, odd, but beautiful designs, extravagant, cobbled walkways and tall, arcing, traditional brick and mortar structures, many of which were topped at their pinnacles by rather than simplistic, flat roofs, rising spires which seemed to reach out towards Heaven itself, in an effort to touch it.
Though vast, its streets winding like the veins of a living creature, School Garden was cramped. A living representation of the architects' focus on aesthetic over any real practicality.
There were shops of all sorts, ornately-carved, showering fountains in open city squares, flanked on all sides by gleaming, reinforced wooden benches for sitting. Even the traffic lights that dotted the silvery-set streets were far more elegant than those within other areas of Academy City. School Garden was entirely unique onto itself.
"Your move, Shokuhou-sensei~."
"Hm. The rook maneuver."
Sitting across from one another at a table carved from gleaming, dark silvery stone, with ornate chairs to match – not unlike a set of thrones intended for use by royalty in their stuffy court – Shokuhou Misaki, Academy City's sixth-ranked level five esper, exchanged glances with her mental opponent, Mitsuari Ayu, the Mental Stinger girl, the level three esper whose own ability development had been shafted so that the honey-blonde girl's own could prosper.
Shokuhou wasn't about to admit it, but, truthfully speaking, the Mental Stinger girl had her beat. There wasn't much left she could do. Mitsuari knew how to play the board. She knew how to move her pawns about, and she knew how to turn even a hopeless situation into one in which she emerged on top.
Indeed, the 'Queen Bee' was losing her edge. Her capacity to manipulate was beginning to wane. Her desire to do so waned as well, like the dying hours of sunlight fading into twilight.
The match was spectated quietly by another Tokiwadai Middle School student, who sat between Shokuhou Misaki and Mitsuari Ayu, at the head of the table. This girl watched on, quietly, observing the honey-blonde beauty's contemplations. The Mental Stinger girl did not jeer, nor torment, nor provoke. She merely folded her hands' fingers between one another, rested her chin upon them, and kept her eyes' narrowed lids peeled.
A beautiful young woman in her own right, middle school aged with a slender, naturally curvy form and an ample bosom, her long, platinum-blonde hair was styled into extravagant ringlet curls. Her hair's fringe was sideswept, and her bangs hung elegantly, draping over her upper chest. This girl's eyes, of the same colouration as her hair, moved in their sockets, casting the girl's vision from Mental Stinger, then back to Mental Out.
"Hmph. I concede defeat, Mitsuari-san. It would seem you have bested me yet again."
Rolling her shoulders, Shokuhou Misaki smiled a genuine, warm smile at the Mental Stinger girl. Ayu smiled back, and winked at Tokiwadai's Queen.
"Of course~."
"I-I'm terribly sorry, my Queen," the platinum blonde girl remarked, bowing her head as if in grief. "Perhaps you'll have better luck next time."
Her Queen's white, gloved hand was upon her shoulder, then. The honey-blonde beauty tilted her head to one side, as if curious.
"It is merely a game, Hokaze-chan. A distraction. You need not take all matters so seriously! We are merely having fun. Do remember that. Moreover, how often must I remind you? I am no one's "Queen." I am your friend, first and foremost."
"M-My Queen…"
"Shokuhou-san will suffice, or, if you are comfortable, Misaki."
With a gentle, affectionate squeeze, Tokiwadai's Queen reclaimed her hand, and offered it to Mitsuari Ayu. It was an offer Ayu accepted; the two shook.
"You prove yourself once again to be my intellectual superior. There is much I could learn from you, Mitsuari-san."
Hokaze seemed stunned. She reeled at her Queen's words, as if her Queen had just spoken in some unintelligible language, or perhaps uttered some foul curse word.
As their hands shook, Ayu merely produced a soft, approving coo before ceasing the handshake altogether.
"Perhaps. But you've taught me much more than I could ever teach you… Shokuhou-sensei."
She had to admit, it was wonderful to see the Mental Stinger girl in good spirits. At the very least she could rest assured, knowing that Mitsuari Ayu's psychotherapy and therapeutic medications were helping to stabilize her mental state, and, perhaps in time, bring her to a full recovery. Her wavy, naturally curly chocolate-coloured hair seemed healthier. Her eyes seemed wider, livelier. Even her very skin seemed less pale, with colour visible throughout it.
"But, of course. It'd seem we've become distracted in our wagers! Whatever could you have needed from me, Shokuhou-san?"
It was time to get down 'to business', then. Misaki steeled herself, sitting up straight and at attention, rolling her shoulders once more.
Hokaze, quite suddenly feeling out of whatever loop was beginning to form before her, decided it was finally quite time to take her leave. With a polite curtesy, she intended to disperse herself and leave her betters, as she viewed them to their business, whatever business that might have been.
However, Hokaze found herself beneath her Queen's gaze. Shokuhou Misaki's hypnotic, golden-coloured starry eyes pierced the level four Rampage Dress user's very soul, and looked deep, deep into her.
"Leaving so soon, Hokaze-san?"
"I-If I may, my Queen…"
Either of her Queen's gloved hands quickly made their way to Hokaze's cheeks. Plopping themselves down gently, affectionately, Shokuhou Misaki squeezed her 'handmaiden's' cheeks inwards, pushing the platinum-blonde girl's lips outward, causing them to form a protruding lump.
"Hokaze-chan, Hokaze-chan… You must break this habit of yours. If you wish to leave, then leave. You are no one's servant, and I am no one's Queen. We are all students of Tokiwadai Middle School, equals onto ourselves. Friends, I would like to think."
Mitsuari Ayu found herself just as surprised as ever by this odd behaviour; this queer change of heart experienced by Tokiwadai's Queen. The Mental Stinger girl had an idea as to where it had originated from, and what – or, more to the point, who had inspired it.
"Very well, my Que— Shokuhou-sama. I will depart. Please, until we meet again, take care."
"And yourself as well, Hokaze-chan."
Ayu grinned, despite herself, then spoke as the platinum-blonde girl passed elegantly, her curvy, seductive body swaying from side to side – surely an unconscious act – as she departed, closing the sliding glass doors that lead into Shokuhou Misaki's dorm behind her with only the utmost care.
"Might a certain heroic boy have inspired these changes in you, Shokuhou-sensei?"
"Yes. That is precisely the topic I wished to discuss with you further." Wrapping her delicate digits around the handle of her teacup, then lifting it to her lips and sipping of its contents, Shokuhou Misaki rested her face against the palm of her free hand, which was propped against the table's surface upon its elbow. "I am not certain what course it is I should pursue, what course we should pursue, Mitsuari-san."
The Mental Stinger girl sipped from her own teacup, just as her 'sensei' had. Thoughtfully, Ayu repeatedly clicked her small finger's nail against the cup's outer surface.
Another relaxing breeze blew past, settling over the balcony, enwrapping the girls within its invisible embrace, and leaving its loving kisses behind for them.
"Is it not obvious?"
The question, a rhetorical one, might as well have been a bullet ejected from the illuminated muzzle of a firearm, aimed directly at Shokuhou Misaki's throat. Its bluntness left the Mental Out girl taken aback, by her own silent admission.
"Shokuhou-sensei, I do understand that Kumokawa-sensei's words cut deep and exposed a part of you that you have not quite yet come to terms with; but it's no reason to surrender yourself to your own hopelessness, as I once did.
"Regardless of whether I must be a contributing member to some polyamorous gathering, I intend to pursue that boy. If you choose not to, that's your decision, and I'll respect it… But I will not leave you to despair, Shokuhou-sensei."
"I suppose, Mitsuari-san… I'd always envisioned things playing out differently."
"Perhaps in some other time and place, Shokuhou-sensei, they did. This is our hand, so to speak. How we play it dictates our fate. You saved me. You were instrumental in ensuring I was not swallowed further by the darkness of this City. I hardly intend to leave you to be swallowed."
It was then that Mitsuari Ayu rose from her seat, and casually, confidently, strode towards Shokuhou Misaki, who found herself taken aback, ever so slightly.
In but a moment, level three and level five found themselves mere inches from one another.
"Miss honeybee, I do believe a happy balance for the both of us, with that boy in our lives, is possible. Our rekindled friendship is proof of this, no? Why not go further, little honeybee? Let this little ant ravish you~. Coexistence is possible~."
Then Mitsuari Ayu's lips forcibly connected with Shokuhou Misaki's own.
The Mental Stinger girl's hands fell to the Mental Out girl's exposed thighs, the absolute territory between the skirt of her Tokiwadai Middle School winter uniform and her long, elegant white stockings, with their intricate spiderweb patterns.
"You taste wonderful, miss honeybee~. And though your legs pale in comparison to mine, you do have those blobs of fat going for you~."
Misaki's eyelids widened. Her starry pupils dilated. Her breathing rapidly increased. Within their gloves, her hands began to fidget awkwardly. Her fingers twitched in place. An odd, warm, tingling sensation was beginning to rise into the Mental Out girl's throat.
This was wrong. Her first kiss should have been him, her prince. Her beloved prince who, despite the grownups' expectations, had found his way back to her through a tiny miracle, if the words of Tokiwadai's Ace were to be believed – and Tokiwadai's once-Queen had no reason to disbelieve her former rival.
But for something so wrong, this did not feel particularly bad.
"Imagine that boy between us, hm? Loving our bodies, as we love each other~. Would such a thing not be idyllic in its own way, Shokuhou-sensei~?"
Misaki didn't quite know what to think. It was as if her mind had suddenly shut down. She didn't reject Ayu, nor attempt to force the Mental Stinger girl from accosting her. The conflict raging within her higher mind, already beginning to take its toll, caused the Mental Out girl to shudder, as a chill lurched awkwardly upon her spine, running upwards and downwards as if in a panic.
Then, Mitsuari Ayu spoke words which, despite her misgivings, somehow brought clarity to Shokuhou Misaki. They made all the sense in the world. They were not vicious and demeaning, as Kumokawa Seria's words had been, when her prince's upperclassmen had spoken with her through telecommunication.
"Kamijou-san… Has found his way, if his romantic situation is as you say it is. We ought to find ours, as well. To scheme, to plot, and to connive to entrap him in a cramped little birdcage, so that we might have something exotic to call our respective own, like a pet… There would be nothing more cruel. Unorthodox and strange, yes, but such is Kamijou-san."
And hadn't Kumokawa Seria said something similar? If someone like Kumokawa could place her own pride aside for the sake of the boy so many seemed to love – so many who, now, it seemed were to be shown love in return – then…
Where, precisely, did that leave her? Where did that leave Shokuhou Misaki, 'Tokiwadai's Queen'?
She'd prayed to deities from around the globe for this. She'd wept herself to sleep for this. She'd offered her own very soul to any beings, angel or fiend, that might have been listening. Though there had been no buyers, her offer spoke volumes of her dedication.
Here it was, before her. All Shokuhou had to do was reach out, take it, and… Make a compromise. A compromise with herself, a compromise with many others.
"I do figure there… There is only one with whom the details of this… This extraordinary circumstance can be truly worked out and set in stone. That is Kamijou-san, my prince, himself…"
Once more Shokuhou Misaki steeled herself. With a deep breath and an effort to concentrate, she spoke aloud. Partly to Mitsuari Ayu, partly to herself, and though he couldn't hear her where he was, in England, an ocean away, to Kamijou Touma, her prince.
"Let us have a talk, then, my prince. A kind, sweet, and gentle talk…"
Academy City.
February 11th, 2004. 4:35 PM.
Though cramped, the homey little café in Academy City's seventh school district offered an off-the-books location for discussion, used by many for many varying reasons. Its sky booths were accentuated by the soft-coloured, tiled flooring and arching ceiling, from which light fixtures mounted within beamed down gentle, golden-white light.
Crammed into one such booth were two old men who'd looked to have seen better days, and Academy City's fourth-ranked level five esper, Voidwalker.
"Introductions. This is Nokleben-san. Nokleben-san will be working with us throughout the foreseeable future. He owes Gladio-Oculus a favour, and we'll leave it that," Dave Horton remarked, stirring an empty cup of coffee with a stirring stick to provide his hands something to fidget with.
"My condolences, go ahead and have all of them," Hamasaki Tsubasa grunted in response, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. "This gig sucks. It's the worst. What kind of dirt do they have on you, Nokleben? If you have clean hands, you don't work for Gladio or the Oculus. That simple."
"Level Six Shift project. Security Supervisor, Hamasaki-san."
"Pfft."
Voidwalker leaned back in his seat; his efforts to veil his nervousness with a false, casual front were failing, and he knew it. Truthfully, he would've rather been in Joseph's Coffee & Restaurant with Saten Ruiko, listening to her talk so passionately about her beloved Urban Legends for as long as she sought to talk about them.
Just the thought of her voice was enough to send a tingle rushing upwards, from his stomach and into his throat. It ceased at a pinnacle, leaving him feeling quite lonesome, indeed. A vulnerable position for a level five esper to be in.
"No matter how many times you wash those hands of yours, Nokleben, you won't get that sort of dirt off."
"I know."
Keitz Nokleben's voice was filled – practically dripping with – his own resignation to his destiny. Whatever dark fate found him, he deserved it. He knew it. He'd always known it. A tall, lanky man, his skin was wrinkled; with his swept-back golden-blonde hair and dull, time-worn green eyes, Nokleben looked like some living relic originating from some lost civilization. Unfortunately, no museums were interested in the likes of him.
"So, what's the jig, then, David? Let me take a wild guess. Alright. Here goes. You're looking for quick transport through the Void, to England. No problem… For me."
Gladio-Oculus operative Dave Horton raised an eyebrow, but didn't immediately respond.
"Void is with me every second of every day. My Personal Reality passively generates it, constantly. I got used to it. You won't. Not interacting with it for the first time, so directly. Plus, when I go walking through there, taking the strolls that I do, I'm expected. You're not. That's the long and short of it. There are only so many deals I can strike at one time before suspicions arise."
"We're looking at a prolonged siege in Wales," Horton remarked then, evidently undeterred. "Gladio agents embedded in the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight have sent word that Birdway is on the move again. Plot's thickening. They've been meeting with the Amakusa Christians in some little backwater shithole. Looks like Tsuchimikado was right. Amakusa may have just gone rogue."
The Gladio-Oculus agent rubbed his temples with his fingers, muttering under his breath. Hamasaki Tsubasa moved his glance between both Keitz Nokleben and Dave Horton. Still, he said nothing. Instead, he waited for Horton to begin again, and he did, as expected.
"That's why we need to get this thing under control, immediately. Fucking immediately. Get one of those gates of yours open through your Void, wide enough for Academy City tech to fit through. We can have stealth bombers in the air, enough siege vehicles to knock all of Europe out of the game in twenty-four hours if need be. Tanks, Maser Cannons, we've got the HsPS-14 prototype Powered Armour rolling off the assembly lines. They won't know what hit them."
"Or…"
Tsubasa took a sip from his cheap soda, before setting the bottle down on the rickety little table before him. Still clad in the tight-fitting uniform of Sakugawa High School, he certainly wasn't dressed the part of a scheming Academy City 'G-Man'.
"You could let me handle Birdway. Not all that concerned about the Saint, either… It's the vamp that bothers me. Deep Blood is still off-limits?"
"Yes! Deep Blood was, is, and always will be off-limits!" It took all of Dave Horton's mental might – much of which had already been spent simply trying to dredge himself out of bed – to keep from slamming his fist directly into the rickety table. "Deep Blood is far too valuable to him. If a…"
Horton looked over both of his shoulders repeatedly, cautiously. As if expecting to have someone listening in on the conversation, the Gladio-Oculus agent quietly coughed into the sleeve of his cheap, pressed suit jacket.
"… Vampire ever decided to waltz into Academy City, Deep Blood needs to be right here to attract it."
"Checks out. Sorry, David. I'm off the ball this afternoon. Lots going on."
"It's that schoolyard crush of yours again, isn't it, Hamasaki? Get it TOGETHER!"
Keitz Nokleben became the voice of reason. Swiftly grabbing Horton's wrist mid-air, he forced the arm downward. Nokleben's gaze locked with that of his fellow operative's own.
"The boy is barely old enough to be away from the schoolyard. Have some compassion. You had a wife, before you blew it, Horton. Try to remember what it was like, being young and in love. It's not easy."
"I know plenty about being old and divorced," Horton grumbled, calming himself with a deep, drawn-out inhalation. "You're going soft, Mr. Security Supervisor."
"Soft? No. I have a family to feed. I've never enjoyed this."
Nokleben leaned back, relaxing, in an effort to promote a sense of calm around the table. At the very least, Academy City's fourth-ranked level five esper seemed to be keeping his proverbial hat on straight. If Dave Horton had been laying out bait, Tsubasa hadn't risen to take it.
Finally, Academy City's fourth strongest responded to the original inquiry as best as he could.
"I can get it done, David. I'll need exact dimensions for my calculations, and, I'll need a relatively up-to-date representation of the designation for the other side. Otherwise, the rest is on you. So don't screw it up. You get all of that for me, forward it to me, and I'll take care of it all. Can I trust you to handle the tech without blowing a valve?"
"Only if I can trust you to keep your head on straight until we blow Birdway's off," Horton grumbled, extending a hand outwards.
Hamasaki Tsubasa briefly thought on it, then took the hand into his own, and offered it a firm, confident shake.
"We've settled on it then, David. Before all that, I have business to attend to. It won't keep me for too long."
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.
Catherdine, Wales.
February 10th, 2004: 5:15 PM.
Catherdine was a miserable little backwater dump; but it was clearly cared for by its residents. The stone-paved walkways, leading from structure to structure were kept clear of natural overgrowth.
Nearby the Llangorse Lake, the idyllic fieldscapes surrounding the little fence-enclosed hamlet were ruffled by the breeze, like locks of a lover's hair parted by gentle, loving strokes. Tall, healthy trees dotted the hamlet, and the flowing, hilly fieldscapes beyond.
The tallest structure, a place of worship – an aged, weather-worn chapel – had become a home for chatty birds as much as the hamlet's human parishioners. There was history here, perhaps hundreds of years worth of history.
A queer little place for a queer little meeting.
Saint Kanzaki Kaori eyed the carvings upon the tavern's walls suspiciously. Each stunk to High Heaven of death, like a rotting corpse trapped inside of an airtight bag. Were she not as mighty, Kaori might have vomited; Itsuwa and Tatemiya Saiji were less capable of masking their disgust, and so, the two sat upon a bench as far away from the vampiric demon hunter as they could manage, and talked between each other in hushed whispers.
One of three taverns accepting patrons in the little hamlet of Catherdine, the Intoxicated Ibis, lit only by the sun's natural, golden-white rays beaming in through the ornate windows and candlelight, had evidently been taken over by the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight. Child-leader Leivinia Birdway's subordinates loitered about the place, some speaking among themselves.
Though small in size, the Intoxicated Ibis did not feel particularly cramped. With its entranceway leading into a cozy dining hall lit by a stone-wrought hearth, complete with four oaken tables, the vacated kitchen was viewable through an empty doorway.
Perhaps an actual door had been held within at one point? Saint Kanzaki Kaori couldn't have known for certain. Moreover, there were matters of considerably greater importance for her to contemplate.
Seated at one of several tables situated throughout the dining hall, the Saint of the Far East stared down the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's child-leader. Seated nearby her, ever-loyal, was apparent vampire and demon hunter, Iosephus Thepes. He remained utterly silent, barely even breathing.
Between them, placed upon the table and rattling with activity was the device which had stirred up so much havoc within the 'Magic Side'; Leivinia Birdway's 'Soulgrinder'. Hourglass-shaped and filled with swirling, surging emerald green energies, the odd device repeatedly shook with increasingly intensity.
It seemed as if something was attempting to escape from within, but found itself incapable of doing so. Kaori was closer to the truth than she could've known, but none were about to inform her of this.
"I have to admit, I'm a bit flabbergasted," Birdway admitted, swaying either of her little legs in place. "You want in, old lady? You want to strike out at Vatican City? Whatever cover you're currently operating under would be blown as soon as your bitchy Archbishop catches word."
"The Sons of Taured, truthfully, needs a podium from which to speak. Where better than Vatican City? Those who have not already been made privy to the truth can hear our message, and find hope within themselves, within magic."
It was a point Leivinia had to admit to herself had merit. Though she wasn't about to admit it publicly, the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's leader was quite taken aback. Kanzaki Kaori, the Saint of the Far East, that wrinkly old lady was really doing it.
She was really rebelling against the Anglican Church, against Necessarius… And, against the 'Science Side'.
Did this old lady even have any idea of what she was getting herself into? Or, was Kanzaki Kaori merely acting blindly on ideals alone?
Leivinia Birdway couldn't have known, not for certain.
"The Pope is protected by some of the most powerful magicians on Earth. Which is where my Soulgrinder, and my demon hunter come in handy. Isn't that right, Thepes? You'll suffer through any abuse for me, won't you?"
"Of course, Dawn-Coloured Lady."
Not even a moment's hesitation. Kaori was impressed, in her own way. She found herself staring into it; into the swirling, emerald green masses entrapped within the 'Soulgrinder'. They repeatedly slammed themselves against the hourglass-shaped body of the device. Lacking any truly humanizing features, these swirling masses were more akin to a particularly foul-seeming lightshow.
"A Soulgrinder… Intel suggests your cabal recovered this accursed thing from an Indonesian black market. Am I correct?"
Birdway nearly knocked her chair backward; she tossed her head back and laughed. She laughed as a haughty rich girl might've laughed after being asked to prom by some lowly street thug.
"We have a traitor among our ranks, Thepes! How amusing!"
Settling back into place, though still gently rocking herself backward and forward as she giggled quietly to herself, Leivinia softly cleared her throat, repeatedly, more in an effort to regain her professional, outward appearance than to clear any real blockage within.
"I can deal with that later. To answer your question, old lady, yes. That's exactly where I recovered the device from! The merchant didn't have the faintest clue of what he had among his wares! It was a brilliant find, really. A masterstroke only I could have engineered."
Kaori sighed, exasperated already. As if the trip from the England-Wales border to this backwater hamlet, accompanied by the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight from start to end hadn't been exhausting enough.
Simply being in Leivinia Birdway's presence for too long was exhausting, in and of itself.
"People all over the world are learning about magic because of you Sons of Taured meddlers," Leivinia remarked, then, with a hint of irritation in her voice. She reached out, wrapped her digits around her cup, and raised it to her lips; there was no liquid within, much to the child-leader's disdain.
"Thepes!" Leivinia commanded harshly, "go fetch me some more ice water. Make it quick."
"Of course, my Lady."
The demon hunter took the cup into his hands with the utmost care, then departed from the table, leaving Leivinia Birdway and Kanzaki Kaori to their business.
"Still, I can make this work in my favour, too. We'll probably have more help in Vatican City than you're betting on, old lady. Don't tell me you haven't seen the global protests."
"Academy City is clearly taking great strides to suppress the spread of information," Kaori retorted. "But it's hardly working as they intend. The world is waking up, regardless of whether Academy City approves or not… Though joyous, I must admit, I expect a cataclysm.
"The people will feel betrayed. How many have lost loved ones to diseases which could have been cured with the use of magic? Until magic is formally recognized as an aspect of our reality by world powers, and perhaps even after the fact, I'll continue to expect the worst."
Leaning forward, across the table, Leivinia leered at the Saint.
"Once we've taken Vatican City, what then? Do we just put ourselves up on a couple of soapboxes with some megaphones and start yelling? No. This is why you've always failed, Saint of the Far East, and why I have always succeeded. You need to think. There's one mouth the Western world will trust, and that mouth can be made to speak whatever words we want it to."
"You mean to extort the Pope."
"Precisely! Dementia hasn't quite got the best of you just yet, I see!"
Leivinia leaned back in her seat, and accepted the refilled glass of ice water brought by her subordinate and second-in-command. Slapping her hand's palm against his back, the child-leader sipped from the cup, then smacked her lips impolitely before she spoke once more.
"I imbue my tagalongs' weapons with raw, Daemoniac energy. That's what's in the Soulgrinder, see, old lady? It's all Daemoniac souls, ripped from their bodies, pulled inside and reduced to raw materials. It's very much like Telesma. I march in with a superpowered army at my back, and a vampire. You… What was it you call yourselves again?"
"The Amakusa Remix-Style of Church, who have joined with the Sons of Taured."
"Yep, still don't care… You lot work well in unison. My army delivers a surgical strike, cripples Vatican City. You capture the Pope. I have Thepes break him down, he starts working for us. Then, you do whatever it is you want to do for your Taured nonsense, and we'll take the Vatican, boot the Roman Catholics out, and change its name to 'Birdway City'. Or, maybe, 'Leivinia City'. Hey, why not 'Leivinia Birdway City'? I'll have to think on it."
How far had Birdway planned this out? She was laying bare before the Saint of the Far East an entire battle plan. It was rudimentary and without deep strategy, certainly, but someone like Birdway didn't need strategy. She had a vampire on a leash. Kaori recognized the rash brutishness for what it was. Not stupidity nor foolishness, but a simple lack of competent opposition.
Even if the Vatican was aided by an assembled God's Right Seat, what use would they be? William Orwell was a Saint no longer. Fiamma's mightiest asset had been ripped from him. Vento stood no chance against a vampire.
Kanzaki Kaori was willing to take no risks.
"And if Academy City involves itself, Birdway?"
"Heheh…"
A devious, wicked little smirk practically rushed across Leivinia Birdway's face.
"I'll deal with Academy City in due time, don't you worry yourself into a panic about it, old lady. You're very much discounting how much support your little secret club is going to have once magic really starts getting out there." Raising either of her arms towards Heaven, Leivinia's elegant white gown, with its pitch-dark markings akin to the keys of a grand piano flowed extravagantly. "The Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's ranks will swell. The Sons of Taured's ranks will soar. We lead two armies against Academy City, one from Western Tokyo, the other from the Saitama District. Crush the 'City of Science' between us, and share of the spoils."
"I presume you didn't rest on your laurels and add us into your equation prematurely, Birdway."
"Of course not, old lady. These tactics are on-the-fly."
"And the British Royal Family?"
Kaori's remark brought to mind within Leivinia an aspect she hadn't previously considered. The British Royal Family certainly wouldn't sit idly by and permit a hostile takeover. England's defense pact with Academy City would likely see English troops landing with boots on the ground to aid the walled-off city-state in the Far East, when push inevitably came to shove.
"I'll permit them to live if they bend knee to the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight, then kiss the ground I walk on. Otherwise, there's going to be some regicide!"
And she meant it. Kanzaki Kaori could easily tell just how much Leivinia Birdway meant it. This twelve-year-old child-leader was willing to wage war against the entire planet to see her schemes come to fruition. Why? What drove her? She'd almost become manic, so pleasurable and delectable was this idea of dominion and conquering to Leivinia.
To the Saint of the Far East, Leivinia Birdway was an enigma, something beyond understanding. Kaori attempted to peer into the child's wide, sky-blue eyes; she turned away, evidently sensing the Saint's intentions and denying her passage, safe or otherwise.
"What still surprises me," Birdway muttered, "is how casual you are about my use of the Daemoniac. As a Saint, and as a practicing Christian – I'd assume – you should be repulsed. Are you not? Or has your faith wavered, old lady?"
Kanzaki Kaori's response left the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's child-leader silently impressed.
"The hardest choices require the strongest wills. The Church of England is lead by a vile, scheming tyrant who is without compassion. She is my enemy. Not the Pope, not Vatican City, nor even Academy City. My enemy is my now-former Archbishop, and all who remain at her side… Despite knowing exactly who she is… This is no longer about anything other than vengeance. Is this a satisfactory explanation?"
Leivinia puffed herself up, then leaned back with the sort of casual pose one wouldn't have assumed such a proper young lady to be capable of taking. The silent, observative demon-hunter, Iosephus Thepes, turned from the sight, as if physically repelled.
"This is for her sake. It is to the greatest extent, the most humane way."
"How…?"
"You thought I didn't know what this was all about, old lady? Heheh. I always knew. Some of my tagalongs are ex-Anglicans who turned from the faith after coming to the same realization you did."
She turned, then, to the vampiric demon hunter, whose shoulder she tapped repeatedly, gathering his attention quite swiftly.
"Thepes, gather these louts of mine and report for duty outside the tavern. As I finalize matters with this elderly lady, go about the process of imbuing their weapons with Daemoniac power. I want every single weapon filled to the rim with power, until they can't take another drop."
"Will that be all, Dawn-Coloured Lady?"
"Yep. Now, get lost."
"Very well."
Leivinia waved the demon hunter away dismissively, then returned her attention back to Kanzaki Kaori. As Iosephus Thepes departed from the tavern entirely, leading Birdway's Dawn-Coloured Sunlight subordinates along with him, Kaori felt a certain pressure decrease within the tavern. Being so close to a vampire, and to one whose blood pulsated with the Daemoniac for so long had begun to take its toll on the Saint, one whose very body was so closely linked to the Son of God.
Cautiously, the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's leader extended a hand.
"For the time being, my cabal, the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight and your secret little club, the Sons of Taured, shall find common ground and a common enemy. To that end, we'll throw out lot together."
Kaori took the hand, considerably smaller than her own, into her gentle grip, and offered the child-leader a hesitant, affirmative handshake.
In a world where symbolism was above all else in terms of importance – the most powerful of magicians relied upon it, as did the weakest aspirant casters – the Saint was expected to complete this symbolic 'linking'.
"For the time being, my holy order, the Sons of Taured, and your cabal, the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight, shall find common ground and common enemy. To that end, we'll operate as one… Until the divide between us grows too great."
The child-leader giggled, shook on the tenuous agreement, then reclaimed her outstretched arm before she rose from her seat and stretched, groaning in pleasure as she stood upon her toes.
"Before I forget…"
Leivinia's gaze locked with Kaori's own, and offered the Saint a clear view of the soul that laid within. The Saint couldn't quite gauge it, couldn't exactly measure it, nor contemplate it. As ever, Leivinia Birdway remained an unidentifiable enigma.
"How likely do you reckon it is that the spikey-haired fool is going to involve himself in all of this?"
"This is something I've thought of for some time," Kaori responded following some careful consideration. "He has always, selflessly lent his aid in the past… His penchant for wishing to behold the entire world smiling, however, may become more a hindrance than a help. As romantic a thought as it might be, it's unrealistic, and can't be an expected outcome, not here. Not now."
"I'm sure you'll think of something, old lady. You might be ancient and wrinkled, but I'm sure, somewhere down in there, you've got, maybe, a single womanly wile. Why not woo him to your side, then have him aid us?"
"W-What a-are you… I-Implying?!"
She'd been entirely, overtly serious the entire time. The proverbial ice queen, now defrosted and melting in place, surrounded by a puddle of her own steadily-dripping awkwardness. Mere sexual undertones had been enough to set the Saint off; quietly, Leivinia Birdway chuckled at this distraction.
"He'll aid us, so long as you remain useful to me, old lady, or I'll just find a way to turn him against you. Like your Anglican Church, I've always found Kamijou Touma so easy to manipulate that senselessly wasting such a valuable asset would, rightly, be criminal.
England.
February 10th, 2004. 5:35 PM.
Index Librorum Prohibitorum's eyes didn't seem to know where to settle. Incapable of finding rest, they darted about wildly in their sockets. The little nun with the long, silver hair, she who held within her mind the collective contents of over one hundred thousand accursed texts – Grimoires – felt her own heart beating rapidly in her chest, far quicker than it should've been, by her own approximations.
The limousine commandeered by Oriana Thomson had pulled into a full retreat, its tires having squealed aloud as they tore grassy fields apart beneath them. Tufts of grass clung to earth which was ejected from beneath the spinning tires.
The fields were wide, vast, and open. Only the occasional tree dotted the landscape. There were no mountainous outcroppings, nor were there heavily-forested canopies in which reprieve could be found.
The limousine itself would have to do. Open and exposed, as a monstrous battle raged on in the distance.
"Index-chan?"
Peering down at her, the exceedingly kindly, almost motherly upperclassman of her 'keeper' and guardian gently took the little nun's hands into her own, and smiled a wide, genuine smile at her. The poor thing was terrified, and Kumokawa Seria knew it. She was lost without her Touma. Being without him must have surely been wreaking havoc upon the poor girl's psyche. The nature of this situation itself obviously didn't help matters. Seria recognized the physical symptoms of anxiousness made manifest.
When Seria peered into this little silver-haired nun's wide, green eyes, she saw a rare innocence, unmarred by the horrors she'd endured throughout her short life. It was the sort of innocence that Seria felt herself becoming just a bit envious of.
And, then, she caught herself; envy was something Shokuhou would hold close to her heart and wield as a weapon to augment her uncanny ability to manipulate. In her own way, Seria recognized herself as having been quite the same, before she'd had her epiphany.
Before Kamijou Touma had vanished for over an entire month and left her reeling, desperate, screaming into the void for even a glimpse of him.
Indeed, Kumokawa Seria had undergone metamorphosis and emerged better.
"You suddenly cut yourself off quite abruptly. If you would Index-chan, how would one go about wielding 'magic' for themselves? I believe I can fathom a majority of the history, now that yourself and, ahem, 'Olivia-chan' have extrapolated it. It's all so very interesting. To think that a hidden world exists beneath the mere noses of most…"
That seemed to catch the little nun's attention. Her eyes, reflecting the conflict waged within her soul, lit up as suddenly as her head tilted upwards.
"T-That's easy! But, oh… If you're an esper, you can't use magic. The arcane feedback will hurt you. A lot! When a magician refines mana, there's always arcane feedback. It's normally harmless. Something about an esper's AIM Field must make it dangerous."
"Not quite what it reads here, nun," the former Magic God, Othinus pointed out. From her pocket, she produced a crumpled-up Sons of Taured propaganda pamphlet. "These global demonstrations regarding magic and magicians seem to prove that the information contained within is truthful."
"This banishing ritual needs materials we don't have," Index retorted. "It's not safe! Seria is too nice to use as a guinea pig!"
Despite herself, Kumokawa Seria blushed heavily.
"Aren't you simply the most adorable little thing, Index-chan? I could cuddle you up forever~!"
Practically swallowed within the mature woman's arms, Index found herself tightly, warmly embraced and held lovingly. Kumokawa Seria was all too aware of how drastically she'd permitted herself to grow and change; the Kumokawa Seria who had spent so much time paying so much attention to 'the big picture' would never have accepted 'competition'.
This had been for the best, Oriana Thomson figured. The conflict raging on in the distance seemed to have calmed. There were no further exchanges of power. White no longer clashed with golden, lightning no longer crashed downwards as if hurled from Heaven on high, and no colossal chunks of earth were tossed around like so many dinky children's toys.
Oriana, with both hands gripping the limousine's steering wheel, made the call. She would drive forward. Flooring the gas pedal, the limousine jerked to life, then rushed forward, ripping swathes of grass from the fields beneath its squealing tires.
"I think Kamijou-kun and company have everything under control."
"Do we know for sure?" Came Index's reply. Oriana could only shake her head, no. Ascending and descending upon naturally hilly terrain, the passengers' stomachs curled upon themselves with each rise and fall.
"That's a negative; but there's no need to worry, none at all. If worst does come to worst, onee-san will jump in and join the brawl. It's not my preferred discourse, but a damsel is something I'm not."
As the commandeered vehicle's driver, Oriana caught a glimpse of it first. The gore was enough to make her stomach turn. An experienced freelancer and no stranger to violence, Oriana Thomson was no gorehound. Being familiar with violence didn't particularly mean that Oriana revelled in it. If she herself needed proof, she'd found it.
Oriana Thomson hadn't known what to expect; but she hadn't expected this. Kamijou Touma, that heroic boy who'd only ever wanted to see the world smile, didn't seem particularly disturbed by the sight. An anomaly, to be certain.
Braking and setting the limousine to neutral with a yank on its protruding shift stick, the once-freelancer turned in her seat, backwards, facing her passengers.
"I'd recommend against looking directly ahead. Trust onee-san, please, for your own good. It's quite gruesome."
Index hid her face, resting it within Kumokawa Seria's shirt. 'Beauty-Senpai' gently stroked the little nun's head comfortingly, but did not avert her own gaze. Quickly, without thinking, Kumokawa Seria nodded affirmatively at the sight, as if to silently congratulate the effectiveness of the work she knew, nearly for certain, to be her kohai's own.
Former Magic God Othinus turned her sight to the limousine's floor beneath her feet, disgusted. It had been too late for her; she'd seen it. The mangled corpse that had once been Accelerator, Academy City's strongest esper, surrounded in a pool of his own lifeblood. It stained the grass around him. He was dead, gone, snuffed out.
Then, mentally, Othinus chastised herself.
"You don't find yourself in a position to judge anyone for engaging in acts of wanton violence. Silence your dimwitted thoughts before you further prove yourself a hypocrite."
Watching on, Oriana quietly observed as that twintails girl, Musujime Awaki, caused the stiff, mangled corpse to entirely vanish from sight with the mere tap of a finger. Such must have been the work of an 'esper ability', that which Academy City was so famous for producing within otherwise normal human beings. The once-freelancer found herself relieved, no longer having to look upon that carcass; yet, it was a sight that lingered in Oriana's vision, a half-translucent phantom which took full form whenever she so much as blinked.
Pressing her finger's tip upon a single, tempered glass button, one of several located alongside the interior handle of the limousine's driver's side door, the commandeered vehicle's passenger doors swung open, just as the limousine itself came to a stop. Oriana's digits gripped the steering wheel just a bit more tightly.
"I have a feeling we're only just seeing how interesting things are going to get."