Guess who's back? Back again? A dated reference. That's what's back.
Let's get this show on the road, shall we?
Whwsms: As always, I'm certainly glad to have earned your in-terest once again! You make a good point, all things considered. What will come to pass when more and more of the people Touma loves and now finds himself wanting to hold close and dearly, begin to clue in that something is really, really not right? How long will Touma be able to hide? He has come clean to Mikoto, Seria, Othinus and Index; how many others will start poking, trying to find out just what happened to the boy they love?
A lot seems to be hinging on Saint Kanzaki Kaori. I do hope she's prepared to deal with the 'new and improved' Kamijou Touma. She likely won't at all be getting what she's used to getting, with him.
Guest: Because Ruiko is like a treasure to be won, right? I have to say, that's just a bit problematic.
TM: Interesting thoughts all around, friend. These are all awesome ideas in their own way, but the truth is a bit less complex and more rooted in pseudoscientific, unrealistic understanding of how a hyper-advanced form of nanorobot would function; near endless self-replication. Nanomachines, son! They harden in response to physical trauma! You can't hurt the Tou-MAN, Jack!
Chris: You don't have to apologize, my friend. Whenever I hear from you, I hear from you. I'm thankful all the same.
Kamijou Touma has had plenty of time to think about his past. About the person he once was, about the person he can be in the future, about the person he could be, if things go badly for him. Altogether, I think, there will come a time when he finally realizes that he can't keep the people he loves in the dark forever. Just as he did for Mikoto, for Seria, for Othinus and Index, Touma will very likely come clean to all of the girls he loves about what became of him, and the sort of existence he embodies in the present; a living 'God of Science'.
As for Misaka Worst, that situation is quite complicated. As she suggested, I think what the 'malicious one' needs is some time to herself. To think and ponder. And by departing from England (with Awaki's help) when she did, that's exactly what Worst will get. For better or for worse.
You make all sorts of good points, regarding the Sons of Taured and their potential naivety. But, think of Academy City. Couldn't the same be said for espers living there? I'm certainly not saying you're incorrect, because you aren't. At all.
Imagine that. The 'new and improved' Kamijou Touma shows up at Edinburgh Castle dressed in a trenchcoat and a pair of tinted sunglasses, wielding a pump-action shotgun. "I'll be back."
As always, your kind words make my heart soar, friend. I appreciate your kindness very deeply. Much more than I could ever put into words.
There was an extended period that passed, in which silence seemed to descend upon the party like a thick, woollen blanket cast over the form of a sleeping child. The march towards the motel had begun; Kamijou Touma found himself flanked on all sides, supported, loved, adored. He couldn't have possibly felt any better in that moment.
For once, for the first time, he was not alone.
In Lessar's absence, the little nun with the silver hair, Index, took to the side of her 'keeper', who was apparently set to keep his eyes' vision focused on "Spring-heeled Jack", who stood casually across from him on the other side of the vehicle. Misaka Mikoto and Musujime Awaki, too, had taken to Kamijou Touma's side while Othinus and Kumokawa Seria seemingly forming their own 'group', not particularly far away from Kamijou Touma's own 'group'.
"Would you happen to know anything about this? What seems to be a turn of events, that is," Seria spoke, looking in the direction of the former Magic God.
In response, the golden-haired beauty of innumerable years merely stood with her arms folded across her chest. She tilted her head to one side as she seemingly analyzed the form of Spring-heeled Jack.
"Considerably laxer than when we last met," Othinus finally responded, following a period of short, if choking silence. "To be fair, when the Terror of London and myself last met at a crossroads, I stood before him as a god and not as a mere mortal. He could hardly complete… and had plenty of reason to be concerned."
"I do find myself wondering… if you don't mind my asking, I would inquire. What was it like, Olivia-chan?"
For a moment, Kumokawa Seria's voice dropped in volume, becoming a conspiratorial whisper.
"To be a god."
In physical response, "Olivia-chan" clicked her tongue. Resting her hand upon the shoulder of her Understander's senpai, she leaned in close, and whispered in an equally soft, hushed tone.
"That would require me to explain matters I would much prefer to be left as unknowns. Surely you recall that I did previously mention that there are some questions better off left unanswered, and this is one of many."
Seria nodded her head, gently, yes in affirmation, an act of understanding. She wouldn't push the issue any further.
Kamijou Touma looked to his senpai and offered her a reassuring grin; his senpai responded in kind, smiling back with as much genuine mirth as she could muster. Raising the index and middle fingers of her right hand to her lips, Seria pressed a kiss to them, and threw her hand outwards.
He caught it, and placed the airborne kiss to his own lips, chuckling softly, while Index and the Move Point user, Musujime Awaki exchanged words. Misaka Mikoto seemed to have gone silent, and merely kept a very close eye on the queer existence identifying itself as 'Spring-heeled Jack'. Occasionally, a current of electricity would jump from her forehead, or from her shoulders or her fingertips.
"So, then, "magic" was created by God? Is that it?"
"No, no," Index responded, placing either of her hands upon her hips. Looking the Move Point girl in the eye, she leaned forward.
"Magic wasn't created by anyone, but it's a force that allows man to make their wishes come true, through the power of God, and through God's love for mankind, such things are made possible! That's what Necessarius teaches to the special members of the Church of England who are part of Necessarius."
Perhaps, if Awaki had been a character in a manga, or alternatively an illustration in a light novel, she might've sweat-dropped.
"I think I get it…"
Awaki crossed either of her arms beneath her bosom, military flashlight still it hand.
"In the sense that I don't get it at all; but I know I can do it. Following the instructions in one of those pamphlets, I made fire, after I did some sort of… mirror-ritual-thing."
Index had readied a reply; she'd thought of the words she was going to speak, inside of her the confines of her higher mind. They'd been on the tip of her tongue, about to be vocalized. She quickly found herself stumbling, however when audible stimuli seemingly cut off the connection between mind and tongue, at least temporarily.
The cheap, metallic doors of the motel were thrown open, leading into the cramped lobby.
A newcomer stood before "Kamijou Touma's Party".
Unnaturally tall for her age, partially due to the enormous pair of chopine shoes she wore, crafted of light-toned wooden material and likely harvested from some exotic rainforest or another, she walked angrily towards the form of Spring-heeled Jack. Thirty centimeters thick, her otherwise bare feet were strapped within the interesting choice of footwear.
With bright, red hair, styled into many pencil-thin braids she was otherwise clad in regular attire, clothing most wouldn't have batted an eye at for even a second; a simple, long-sleeved cyan shirt with the logo of some fashionable clothing provider embroidered in the centre and thin, hemmed denims coloured like an unmarred blanket of snow. A light-coloured belt held her choice of legwear in place upon her almost absurdly thin waist.
"You just couldn't help it, could you? Wretched, overeager…"
"I became eager ta greet me allies," Jack explained, head hung in apparent shame. "I realize now that me eagerness to greet 'em may 'ave caused a bit 'o unwarranted trouble. I would politely ask for yer forgiveness, Miss Sanctis."
From her back, the girl with the red, braided hair hastily unstrapped, and then produced an enormous weapon. Taller even than her, its many leaf-like protrusions were bound together at its tip. Though they didn't unfurrow, she poked "Jack" with the strange-looking polearm before she beat him over the head with it, once, apparently for good measure.
"You nearly disturbed the entirety of this operation. Hold your urges in check, or I'll discipline you myself."
Then, a vocalization broke up the moment of abuse.
"Agnese-san? Thank fuck! Finally, something I can understand! You're definitely Amakusa! C'mere!"
In response, Agnese Sanctis cast her gaze to the speaker, Kamijou Touma, who was swiftly moving towards her.
Then, unexpectedly, and certainly not unwarrantedly, Kamijou Touma took the former Roman Orthodox Church adherent and former Leader of the Agnese Forces into his arms.
"B-Boy?! It's… ah? Um. Well…"
"It's great to see you, I really, really missed you; I wasn't expecting to see you, either. Snake never said anything about it, but don't think that I'm complaining. I actually trust you. Agnese-san, tell me what's going on here, before I have to beat the truth out of someone. At least until I can get the truth out of Kanzaki. I'm… I mean, we're supposed to be beating up on this Spring-heeled Jack guy, yet it seems like the Amakusa are friends with him."
"I'm offended," Lessar stated. She was about to continue, before Agnese silenced her with a wordless hiss.
"The boy's been through more than you'd be able to comprehend. For him to mistrust us isn't entirely unwarranted, now behave yourself. Understand the situation and deal with it accordingly."
"F-For a little girl, you really freak me right out."
Agnese eventually managed to return the embrace, allowing herself a moment to indulge in the moment of comfort in an otherwise uncomfortable world. Looking onward, with a bright, pink blush upon her facial features, Agnese Sanctis occasionally blinked as she gazed at the multitude of females who'd seemingly accompanied that boy all the way from Academy City, an ocean away.
Strangely, none of them seemed particularly vexed; she'd recalled the silver-haired nun, the List of Prohibited Books to be rather volatile. Had something changed? If so, then what? What was it that'd decided to change, or alternatively, what had been changed?
Agnese's embrace tightened and she found herself in a moment of vulnerability, eyelids closing. His own, the embrace offered by that boy was loving, tender, truly affectionate – quite like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was cold, oddly, yet there was an underlying, unfelt warmth to the act.
"Boy, it's good to see you, s'well. I will explain everything, but we must first bring ourselves to a safe location… Before we can do that, however, I'll have to ask you to let me go, first."
Agnese temporarily broke away, partly to point her index finger towards the simplistic hallway leading from the sparsely-decorated lobby and towards the nearby elevators. Those doors which would have parted, leading into an elevator car called to the lobby's ground floor by the press of a button were light silver in colouration, with slight scratches upon their surfaces. Worn by time, or perhaps by overuse.
"I cannot say I truly blame you for not trusting those who have assembled here – Saint Lessar hasn't truly proved herself to be absolutely loyal to our cause, until recently that is. Much has changed in a rather brief period, boy, and much more has been revealed to us."
With a nod of her head, Agnese Sanctis motioned towards the elevators' doors.
"It would be best for us to discuss matters related to what brought the lot of you here, in the first place."
"Lessar," Agnese then spoke, causing the Saint to look to former leader expectantly. "Make sure everyone's luggage makes its way to a place of safety."
"Actually…"
Both, former New Light operative and former leader alike looked to the owner of the voice which had interjected. Musujime Awaki stepped forward as if to physically ensure that she stuck out, to make herself known.
"All I need to see is this 'safe place' itself, and I can freely teleport everyone's luggage there. It'll save you a trip, or two, or three… Show me the room. Or rooms."
As if by magic itself, Awaki found that Lessar had taken to her side. Clinging to the Move Point user's arm, Saint Lessar peered up at her.
"If you want some alone time with me, all you have to do is ask. What's it going to take for me to get between those legs, huh? Name your price, esper, and I'm yours."
"Uh…"
"That wasn't a no! Do you like girls, too?! Cock looks nice, but pussies taste better, and they're nicer to lick. You got your v-card? I have mine. Want to trade?"
"SHEESH! I don't think this is an entirely appropriate topic of conversation!"
Quickly, Lessar hurried Musujime Awaki off, walking her like she was walking a dog. The Saint continued to babble, even as the two turned a corner towards the stairwell.
Agnese Sanctis looked on, seemingly disturbed. With a shake of her head and a click of either of her shoes' heels, her stoic courage was restored.
Then, she had to pull herself out of Kamijou Touma's embrace, an act which seemed to disappoint him greatly.
"Ahem… follow me, if you'd please. You, Jack, you come, as well."
"Would 'here be any othe' bloody course-a'-action?"
Oriana had taken point at the motel's entranceway doors. What she sought, if anything, was unknown to all save Oriana herself, as well as her fellow Necessarius cohorts.
"Boy," Agnese began, looking to Kamijou Touma who'd taken to striding beside her, "be careful with that hand of yours. You'd actually ought to…"
"Agnese-san, I don't have Imagine Breaker anymore. I've… Well, I've got something better."
Kumokawa Seria found herself smirking, a chill travelling down her spine. The way he spoke, the way he announced it, the way he simply worded his explanation… confidence. It beamed from him, like rays of synthetic light from a bulb.
On the other end of the proverbial 'reaction spectrum', the former Leader of the Agnese Forces looked to the Imagine Breaker's once-Bearer, a facial expression of absolute, utter shock etched upon her face. Even as the group moved into the interior of the church itself, bathed in dull, barely-noticeable candlelight.
"H… huh? Y-you don't? The power in your right hand… it vanished? How? Why? What became of it, boy?"
Touma simply shook his head, no; apparently, that was the end of that.
To very few individuals' surprise, the interior of the motel wasn't all that interesting, even when compared to its milquetoast exterior. The inner walls had their many wooden, reinforced beams exposed with chunks of insulation visible, puffing out like drool dripping from the maw of an overheated dog trapped outside on a warm summer's afternoon. The flooring was damaged and scuffed, though passable in its overall usability; it fared better than the motel's inner walling.
The ceilings fared no better; perhaps they fared even worse. Curving upwards to form a singular point, they too seemed to be perpetually rotting. As well, more tufts of insulation were visible hanging from within. Placed about, there were many ornate pews, most of which were riddled with webs woven by arachnids and a dingy, dusty ancient-looking oaken altar which sat at the frontal apex of the motel's interior, a great, oaken crucifix propped up behind it, where a welcome desk normally would have been. A makeshift church within what seemed to be an abandoned motel.
Only the Amakusa could have come up with something like this. Kamijou Touma chortled at the setting surrounding him.
"What are these?"
Index poked a rune, or a carving which must've been some kind of a rune. It was nearby the elevators' doors.
Having broken away from "Kamijou-san's party", the little nun with the silver hair had taken to poking at the walls to the "party's" left, though, these weren't the only surfaces which seemed to have been desecrated, with many oddly-shaped carvings produced upon them.
"I've never seen anything like this… I don't know… anything about these. I don't know anything about these! What are they?! This style… what is it? What is the nature?! Think, think!"
Gripping her temples, the little nun wracked her brain, searching for the answers.
The Necronomicon's pages spoke not of the nature of the carvings.
The Book of the Dead mentioned neglected to mention the nature of the carvings or the carvings themselves.
Antonio Antonio Antonio Antonio's "Oblitus Est Suos Deos Scripturam Veteris", the ten-thousand-page expository piece and closest text to a manual on the Forgotten Ones, alternatively known as the 'Old Gods', the residents of the outer, cosmic Void from a time before time, held no relevant secrets.
Two arms were cast around her shoulders. Icy, their embrace was tight, comforting, loving and adoring. Soft, cold lips kissed the back of her habit's headpiece.
"Index. Look, Index… we're right here, okay? I've gotcha. What's happening? Let me in on it. We're in this together, right?"
"Index-san? Can you hear me…? It's me. Kumokawa-san. I'm not certain as to what's troubling you, but Touma-kun and I won't leave your side until these negative effects subside, and you return to your normal self."
Looking back to those who'd taken to her side, Index offered the both a smile.
"I'm not in any pain. Frustrated… my one hundred and three thousand volumes have information on almost every piece of magical history from around the entire globe… not being able to fall back on them for understanding isn't something I'm used to. It's actually pretty scary."
Regardless of her explanation, Kamijou Touma didn't let her go. The little nun with the silver hair didn't seem eager to be released from the embrace, either.
Then, the former Magic God spoke. Her voice was low in pitch, and distant; she, too, had apparently taken to investigating the carvings. To herself, she whispered words of bewilderment.
"The Ahnk'ji… they live, and they've come to the surface? I… I'm… at a loss… this would fill in many gaps. Wretched insects."
Agnese Sanctis pressed one of the elevator's buttons; a button with a small, glowing arrow upon its surfaces which pointed upwards. The light beaming out from beneath the button changed colouration, from red to green.
"Now, I really, really want answers," Touma remarked.
Rising, he took his leave from the side of Index, who he'd helped to rise as well. Leaving her in the care of Kumokawa Seria who spoke to the little nun in a soft, almost motherly tone, he closed the distance between himself and the former leader of the Agnese Forces. On the way, Misaka Mikoto joined him, while Othinus silently continued her study of the carvings, crouched before a rightmost section of the motel's walls.
"You're the one who's supposed to know about all of this," Mikoto began, "if you don't, then… I don't think that bodes well. If a nun with magic books in her brain and the guy who punched an Archangel in the face doesn't know about it, I don't think anyone does."
"I'm as lost as you are," Touma acknowledged. "Trust me, it doesn't feel too good to be in the dark either. I was just getting used to understanding everything, having all this information fed to me constantly. Now, it's all come to a standstill, everything's quiet up there.
For a moment, Kamijou Touma pointed to his forehead. Misaka Mikoto understood what he was referring to.
Turning back, Agnese looked to the form of Spring-heeled Jack, who'd taken to resting atop the motel's exposed rafters. Crouched, he gazed down upon the proceedings below, from on high.
"I suppose it's time," Agnese stated, somewhat reluctantly. "J-just hurry up and show them, Morfanaax."
From the rafters, he leapt without uttering a word. Touching down on the wooden flooring, "Spring-heeled Jack" landed some mere inches from the pew in which Agnese Sanctis had taken to sitting, quite comfortably.
Eyeing the forms of Kamijou Touma and the girl whose name she didn't know, Agnese remained turned in place, a reluctant, and almost concerned expression painted across her features.
Then, blue flame began to consume him. The fire began to crackle without cause, but it started regardless, as if to spite this very required mechanic, as if to proverbially spit into its nonexistent face.
They silently roared, the flame's movements sporadic and nigh-unpredictable. With all due haste they began to lick at the clothing worn by "Spring-heeled Jack", embers jumped outwards, evaporating before they received the chance to begin life as full-fledged flames of their own.
Funneling downwards, the flame which consumed the form of "Spring-heeled Jack" travelled, growing exponentially in size as they moved, quite possibly feeding on the oxygenated air or quite possibly growing simply because they wished to, or perhaps because something wished for them to.
Subsequently, the entirety of "Spring-heeled Jack's" earthly form was consumed by the hungry-seeming, ever-growing flame. Snapping like the jaws of a rabid, starved beast, Kamijou Touma and Misaka Mikoto watched on. From the pocket of her Tokiwadai Middle School-issued skirt, she produced a singular arcade coin, gripping the trinket tightly between her index finger and her thumb.
Kumokawa Seria stared, mouth agape, heart pounding like the beat of a drum within her chest. Index's eyes glistened as she observed the fiery consuming of flesh and clothing, while the former Magic God, Othinus, who'd risen, eyelids widening.
Firstly, there were a great set of bat-like wings emerged from the crackling, blue inferno. Then, a set of mighty, gnarled horns which ended in twisted, thorny curls surfaced from the sea of flame.
Then, the remainder of Morfanaax the Redeemed's form emerged from the surging, twisting blaze, hooves clacking, his great, curved legs striding forward, taking noticeable caution to move as slowly as was possible. With the daemoniac existence's emergence, the flame suddenly stopped and flickered out of existence, leaving behind no sign of its presence. No ash remnants dotted the floors, and no smoke rose in their absence.
Enormous, broad shoulders. A flat face with two slits where nostrils should have been. Unnaturally long, dangling arms. Colossal, muscled, curved legs which terminated in thick hooves, each crackling with hungry-seeming blue flames. Heavily-plated, ornate armour adorned the daemoniac existence's form. The gargantuan, bat-like wings practically shot open, revealing vein-laden, thin membranes of pallid flesh.
Easily over twelve feet tall, the Daemoniac existence lacking any sort of negative aura looked upon "Kamijou-san's Party" bearing a seemingly mirthful smile.
"Many warm greetings to you," Morfanaax spoke; throughout the motel his bellowing voice did boom, even as he pronounced his words with the utmost softness. He bowed in an almost gentlemanly fashion, folding one arm across his waist, as he extended the other outwards.
"Forgive my deception. I am called Morfanaax. My Izul, my title as your people may better know it, is called "the Redeemed". Once-High Guardian of Dis, former servant of Beliar. I now serve the organization which your people might call the Sons of Taured in the hopes of forging your world into a better place for all life that lives upon it. This is my sole mission, my purpose for being. I hope we may coexist peacefully."
Kamijou Touma peered back to Kumokawa Seria, who'd seated herself in a pew. She leaned forward, seemingly perturbed. Within, her lungs expanded, and then, subsequently retracted; a deep breath. Pupils dilated, Seria looked down at her own feet.
Then, Touma took one step forward. Speaking, he addressed the daemoniac existence, Morfanaax.
"We still don't know what this "Sons of Taured" is. We don't even know why we're here. Hell, we're supposed to be killing you or something, right now. You're the bad guy, apparently. Or so we've been told, at least."
"I seek not to harm you. I will not harm you, no matter the harm you do upon me."
Kamijou Touma may very well have offered a retort; but he was quickly overtaken in the verbal exchange by a flailing Railgun.
"I AM SO CONFUSED?! WHY ARE YOU A DEMON?! HOW ARE YOU A DEMON?! ARE YOU… A DEMON? I'M GOING TO FAINT!"
Misaka Mikoto shook her head with force; tightly, she gripped either side. Electricity flowed freely from her body as she continued to incoherently babble, much more to herself than to anyone else.
"STUPID MAGIC!"
Index, on the other end of the proverbial 'reaction spectrum' seemed to have taken interest in the daemoniac existence.
She moved forward, nearly passing the form of Kamijou Touma, who quickly reeled her in with his available right arm. The other lacked a hand; it had been replaced with a sharpened blade of nanorobotic resin.
"T… T-The Flame of the Burning Bush?!"
"Yes, small sister. You see correctly. The aforementioned feats are of no honour to me – they are to be always remembered, but never treasured. I mean your kind no harm, and I come to you with the desire to engage in peaceful negotiations, in the name of God's Holy Light."
Othinus approached, and the Demoniac existence took notice. Tilting his head to one side, he looked downward, and then fell to one knee as she approached.
Though this act initially caused confusion for some, the significance behind, and the nature of the act quickly became apparent; their fields of vision levelled, and became equal.
"One-Eyed Odin… I must wonder, did you ever suspect my true nature?"
"Of course. There was never a question about it. Yet, ironically, as I once stood above you, you now stand above me. I am a god no longer. Mortal, god, and mortal once more. Now, I find myself woefully powerless… Laugh as you will."
"I would not mock you, Odin."
"No? Consider this, it would severely strain this body to successfully refine the mana required to cast a mere illumination spell."
"I will not question the circumstances of this fall from grace. I hope you and I can find peace and solidarity."
"Once more, I hardly have a choice. You could very well kill me with a single bash of your wing."
"I would never do so. I will never harm another, never again. Once-Majin Odin. Fate can be ironic."
Morfanaax the Redeemed rose; he and the former Magic God exchanged no more words.
"Ahem…"
All eyes turned to the form of Agnese Sanctis. Though she'd stepped into the elevator, which had arrived some few moments after Morfanaax and Othinus began to speak, she'd turned herself in place and crossed one leg over the other, leaning against the elevator car's adjacent wall, a smooth surface. Facing those she'd addressed, her cheeks became oddly flushed and subsequently, she looked down to floor beneath her feet.
"I'd prefer to wait for the other member of your group to return, as I'd much prefer to not have the same discussion twice. This was… I'm not very good at speaking to large groups, not outside of… b-battle, you see… actually, the decision isn't mine to m-make, s-see. The Priestess w-wishes for efficiency…"
Seemingly, she steeled herself. Even as her lips curled downwards into a pout, Agnese Sanctis' eyebrows arched aggressively, and she rose, standing upon the seat of the pew.
"Once we've disembarked from the elevator, feel free to, um, walk about as you please. Try not to leave Hawkhaven, because searching for people who've gone off to do their own thing throughout Bristol isn't something we're trying to deal with."
"Hawkhaven?" Touma rhetorically inquired. "Is that what this dump is called? Place looks like the shits."
"An Amakusa front and part-time base of operations, when such a thing is required," Agnese elaborated, quite confident in response, a nod of her head apparently further confirming this, at least in her own mind. "Hawkhaven was never a functioning motel, boy."
Turning her attention to the ex-freelancer who'd departed from the entranceway of the motel, Hawkhaven, Agnese pointed her Lotus Wand in Oriana's direction.
"Thomson, could you check up on Saint Lessar and the esper from Academy City? They're taking an awfully long time to perform a simple task. Knowing her, trouble brews. I'd deal with our 'Saint' myself, if I weren't preoccupied."
With a wordless shrug and a sigh of irritation, Oriana decided on taking the stairs; she disappeared into the darkened stairwell, down another winding hallway opposite to that which the elevators' doors were found in.
Next, Agnese directed her attention to the form of Morfanaax. He'd returned to the rafters, where he'd barely managed to fit himself, given his true form's incredible height. Wings folded, his hooves seemed like they would crush the wooden beams beneath them at any moment; despite this, they held fast against the Daemoniac existence's monumental weight.
"You, you're on watch duty. Keep to the skies, but don't stray too high. Hawkhaven doesn't need any more urban explorers poking around."
"My duties are understood, Miss Sanctis."
Unlikely grace was about him even as he leapt from the rafters, and saw himself beyond the motel's interior, ducking beneath the doorway which lead out.
Some time passed following the Daemoniac existence's departure, and matters seemed to slowly return to a sense of normalcy. Kumokawa Seria remained solely in the company of the once-Magic God Othinus, and had repeatedly, but politely turned down offers, both from Touma and others to have company. Aside from answering inquiries posed to her, Kamijou Touma's senpai remained silent, even as the elevator the group stood within rose, commandeered to the motel's highest floor.
Within the confines of her higher mind, she struggled to comprehend the sights she'd witnessed. The nature, the possibilities, it was endless. She could speculate forever more, and she would likely never come upon the truth, at least not on her own.
The "Magic Side" was a terrifying thing indeed. Seria shuddered; like a film projected onto a silver screen her mind's eye played the scene over, and over and over again. The demon, or whatever it was, the horned, winged monstrosity. Repeatedly, as if it was a movie clip played on an unending loop broadcast to her mind's eye, the monstrosity emerged from the snapping blue flames, something straight out of a nightmare.
Quite literally, Kumokawa Seria knew nothing but the world in which she dwelled. She knew nothing of the kinds that inhabited it; if something such as "Morfanaax the Redeemed" existed, what else existed? What other horrors waited just beyond the veil?
Seria's quiet contemplation continued, even as she looked to the elevator car's drop ceiling instead of down at her own feet.
The elevator's doors split open on the motel's highest floor. Urged on by Agnese Sanctis, "Kamijou Touma's Party" disembarked, walking into a poorly-lit, seemingly rotting corridor. Rows upon rows of thick, reinforced doors lead into individual rooms. The carpet beneath the feet of all who tread upon it was oddly squishy, like some sort of thick, spongy vegetation lurked just beneath.
"Touma, Touma."
"Uh huh. What's up, Index, sweetheart?"
"There's something different."
She looked up at her 'keeper', whose available hand remained transformed and weaponized. Wrapping her own arms around his own, the little nun tilted her head to one side, curiously.
Despite his own frustrations, despite the fact that he wanted a full, immediate explanation for the utterly anomalous and completely, borderline nonsensical happenings that were unfolding around him, Kamijou Touma managed a smile.
Zeeee, nunununuuu.
His hand shifted, turning from a long, sharpened blade of machine-phase matter and to a proper five-fingered hand, matching the coloration of his 'skin'.
"Daemonic beings have a sort of aura, Touma, short-hair, braid-girl," Index began, sitting up, as she ironically enough pointed her index finger towards the motel corridor's sloped ceiling. There seemed to be four corridors, in fact, each connecting with one another to form a square-shaped nexus surrounding the elevator's doors on this highest floor.
"It lingers around them, just like the mana that a magic user produces… speaking of which, Tou-ma, I can sense some mana on you which is odd. But! A Daemonic being's aura is different from a magic user's mana physically manifesting itself."
"She makes a good point, boy," Agnese remarked. "You are producing mana… that is strange. I can only presume it has correlation with the absence of your right hand's power?"
"I've never appreciated one of your lectures this much before, Index," Touma stated with a firmness unsuitable for a boy who found himself with a nun clinging to his arm. Additionally, he'd mindfully dodged the inquiry posed by the former battle-nun; at least for the time being, such an explanation would have to wait.
"Go on, tell me more. Tell us, I'm sure Mikoto is just as eager as I am to figure out just what in the ever-loving fuck is happening."
"I am," Mikoto clarified. "I'd really appreciate it if you could tell us even a little bit more."
Index nodded, quite enthusiastically in fact. Slowly but surely, as he watched the little nun's body language, positivity returned to Kamijou Touma.
Throwing his arms around the girl who'd memorized over one hundred thousand foul Grimoires, he pulled her close, an act which at first caused her to produce a soft gasp.
In chaos, a moment of normality arose, even as the "List of Prohibited Books" explained a matter that was absolutely, completely abnormal.
"There's a key difference between a demon and a daemoniac being," Index stated, quite firmly.
"Demon, a word transcribed from the Koine Greek word "daimonian", is almost always used to refer to a Fallen Angel, which lack the self-awareness of daemoniac beings. Fallen Angels don't produce unique auras different than those produced by Angels; we know the power that Angels are both powered by and passively produce "Telesma"! A daemoniac being's aura is different, and the mana they produce is entirely separate from Telesma, in concept and origin.
"Where do they come from, if they're not Fallen Angels, which… those come from Heaven, right?" Mikoto inquired, vision still perpetually spinning. "I can't believe I just asked something like that, even after everything we've seen… Angels, Heaven…"
"I have to wonder… if there's a Heaven, do espers go there?"
"Daemoniac beings don't have a firmly-placed origin point, whereas Fallen Angels do, being Angels that have Fallen from God's Light," Index elaborated. "Most Daemoniac beings are incredibly evil, almost exclusively evil, but as with all overwhelming statistics there are exceptions! Touma, short-hair, the strange thing about this Morfanaax character, he didn't produce the sort of aura a proper daemoniac being would produce, or what modern magicians think they produce. It was closer in the way it felt to Telesma, but not quite the same… key differences. One-Eye can probably vouch for me, so can braids-girl."
Index soon found herself returning the hug, her eyes closing as she rested her chin upon her 'keeper's' shoulder.
"Get it?" the little nun inquired.
"It's something, at least," Touma responded. "Thanks for the info dump, Index."
Mikoto, on the other hand didn't seem to have recovered from her state of bewildered confusion. She stretched aggressively, taking Touma's other, free arm to comfort her throbbing brain and aching higher mind.
"I think I understand even less."
Then, there was a poke, delivered by a single finger. It landed upon Touma's neck, and tapped him, once, twice, and then a third time.
"Um…"
"Agnese-san? Something wrong? Seems everyone's on edge right now… kind of been that way for the last while. I'm all ears."
"M-Might… I join you?"
Index pouted, and shook her head, repeatedly. Looking from her 'keeper', and then to the former Leader of the Agnese Forces, she tightened her hold on Touma's shoulders.
"I want to hug Touma right now. Hug him later, braids-girl. You don't see short-hair trying to… hey!"
Misaka Mikoto produced a soft, vaguely hysterical chuckle. She'd wrapped either of her arms around Touma's own right arm, and had cuddled close to him, her eyelids closed shut.
"I think I'm going insane. I've seen mummies that throw buildings around, dragons coming out of peoples' arms, angels blowing up entire sections of cities… but seeing a dude in a raincoat turn into a giant demon by burning himself alive? Too… too much. I think that's where I draw the line… I need a fucking rest, already."
"… Are you okay, short-hair?"
"Stop calling me that. I-I'm fine, t-thanks for asking. I just need to get my head straight… holding this Idi- guy, who sometimes acts in a somewhat idiotic manner is helping. Immensely."
"Then that's OK, short-hair. We can share!"
"Index," Touma gently spoke, "could you continue where you left off with your explanation?"
"Well..."
"I d-didn't seek to cause you any troubles, boy," Agnese blurted out, interrupting Index. "It's merely a matter of… I'm only a substitute commander. I wouldn't mind abandoning my duties for a short while."
With a mirthful smirk, Kamijou Touma extended another available arm, one formed from machine phase-matter which came to protrude from his hip, while Index's eyelids repeatedly blinked, as if she was in shock. To the former Leader of the Agnese Forces he spoke.
She seemed startled. Agnese took several steps back, her mind reeling. What was this?
"I think you're doing a great job, Agnese-san. You're taking care of this like a pro. I mean, you told that… demon-thing what to do, no fear in sight. None that I could see. Honestly? If I didn't trust you, if you weren't here, I probably would've tried to kill it. Never did trust those New Light girls… Lessar's alright, but, she's easily swayed, you know?"
To this, Agnese nodded before she offered her own response, strangely enough, in fluent English.
"T-t…. t-thank you, boy. Priestess Kaori Kanzaki is supposed to be handling this operation with myself as her Second. H-however, her dealings with the D-Dawn-Colored Sunlight have… k-kept her occupied longer than we originally intended. I-I'm just following her orders… I'm only able to do this because of my own history with leadership roles, o-otherwise I'd be completely sunk, you see… I've e-even memorized a script, containing the information y-your group needs to know."
The former Roman Orthodox battle-nun seemed to become emboldened, suddenly. Agnese didn't cling to the part of Kamijou Touma's body that he'd extended. Instead, she struggled to remain on her own, proverbially standing tall.
"Effectively, the Amakusa-Style Remix of Church is on the border of outright war with the religious establishment, but we're not the only ones. The Russian Orthodox Church, and, by extension, Annihilatus considers the current aggressive and xenophobic actions taken by the Roman Orthodox Church, and the inaction of the Church of England to be highly provocative."
"But, hold up. You're allied with Necessarius," Touma insisted, to which Agnese responded by shaking her head, no.
"Not anymore… It's…"
Agnese allowed herself to slump back into her seat in the pew, either of the enormous soles of her shoes clacking against the wooden flooring.
"It's hard to explain! The Priestess gets it all better than I do, she's the one who's been talking to them! The Taured guys and the… the bug-people!"
There was a sudden shout, a cry of absolute exasperation, one which caused both Kamijou Touma and Index to peer in Misaka Mikoto's direction.
"BUG-PEOPLE?! Did you just say… bug-people?! Y-you… you know what?"
For a moment, Mikoto cackled, like a witch straight out of some classic horror film.
"I'm not even surprised. Bug-people. Okay, bug-people exist, too. What else exists? Unicorns? Dragons? Fairies? People with dog heads instead of human heads, walking around talking about bones? Is King Arthur going to pop out from nowhere and shout, "SURPRISE!"? I knew magic was crazy, I really thought I did, at least…"
She rose, and threw her hands up, as if she was to announce her defeat at the hand of some otherwise invisible enemy.
"I'm gonna take a walk around, in circles I guess. Just holler if you need me."
Agnese Sanctis nodded, while Touma responded by gently taking her right hand into his own. For a moment, and for only a moment she looked on, before he placed a soft kiss to the top of the extremity.
"You want to talk about something, Mikoto? Don't hesitate. I'm not the only one here who has your back, don't forget. You're far from alone."
"T-Thanks."
With her acknowledgement of gratitude, the Railgun girl began to jog, rather than walk as she left Kamijou behind. Though a mere light jog, the exertion seemed slightly more taxing than a simply, casual walk.
Then, there was a tug on his shirt of nanorobotic resin. As a normal shirt would've, the false article of clothing shifted in place, as Agnese Sanctis tugged on it, like a little girl attempting to garner the attention of a guardian figure.
"Boy, I-I'm… G-Giving you the task of retrieving Saint Lessar. S-she has already taken far too long to return to our m-meeting point, and Oriana Thomson has yet to return, as well... Go, n-now! If you… Want to."
"I'm coming with, Tou-ma," Index stated, with a considerable firmness in her tone of voice. Her eyelids narrowed as she lowered herself, staring into the eyes of her 'keeper'.
In response, her 'keeper' smirked, looking deep into his 'charge's' enormous, azure irises. The longer he looked, the more she seemed to slowly push herself away, a pink tinge forming upon her cheeks.
"I'm not about to turn you away, beautiful Index. C'mon, let's head 'em on out, and see what we can see."
Index stumbled, steadying herself before releasing her guardian's arm from her own arms. With all due haste, the little nun with the silver hair scooped her 'keeper's' left hand into her own right, and attempted to drag him forward; he didn't budge, not immediately, for Agnese Sanctis spoke once more.
"Boy," she began, "Saint Lessar was originally assigned the fourth suite on the third floor. I recommend beginning your search there. D-Do make haste, I w-would much prefer to formally have this o-operation underway, before long. Saint Lessar did remark that the Necessarius-affiliated spy, one 'Tsuchimikado', can be… a nuisance."
Touma chuckled, a vocalization dry and without humour, as he allowed himself to be pulled along by the girl who'd memorized over one hundred thousand Grimoires.
"That's one way of putting it, Agnese-san…"
He turned back momentarily before he neared Kumokawa Seria and the former Magic God, Othinus, exchanging hushed words among each other.
"Agnese-san, I trust you more than I trust that bastard."
Though he turned away, Kamijou Touma was not quite prepared to leave. He made this evident as he increased his body's density on a whim, effectively becoming far too heavy for the perpetually-hungry nun to drag along behind her, like so much baggage.
"Tou-ma. Why did you stop?"
"Be patient, Index. Hang tight for a second."
She folded her arms across her chest and grumbled to herself, while the subject of her soft-spoken, incoherent ramblings approached his senpai, and the girl beyond numerable years who slowly, but surely was beginning to Understand him once more.
Next to the former he stood, then, barring their path. Placing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her inward, Kamijou Touma looked to Kumokawa Seria, locking eyes with the beautiful, refined woman.
Soon, despite the fact that he hadn't expected her to, Index joined him. She stood herself next to her 'keeper' and main source of foodstuffs stubbornly, her hands clasped and folded at her crotch.
"You've been oddly quiet," he stated. "I bet your mind's all over the place right now. I don't blame you, I felt the exact same way when I first met Index. When you're involved with magic, you see some… crazy shit, senp… I mean, Seria."
"As a matter of a fact," Seria began, in response to her kohai's ever-thoughtful checkup, "Othinus-san… Ah! I mean, Olivia-chan and I were discussing the matter before you decided to join us. I must admit, when I first laid eyes upon that creature, my very sanity may have fractured."
Despite her words, Kumokawa Seria smiled, and pecked her kohai on the lips, her hands finding their way to the boy's chest.
"I've never seen any sort of being quite like that. It certainly trumps any Wyverns. Academy City has yet to produce such a thing, and I truly hope they never do… Olivia-chan has been assisting me in wrangling my scattered, far-roaming thoughts with her seemingly endless knowledge."
"It's nothing," the former Magic God retorted. "I certainly hold no concrete answers regarding the daemoniac, I can only offer sound theories. I can't hold true knowledge, nor could I even do so when I possessed great power; it is, quite literally, impossible for me, or you, or for the nun to understand such a concept. It is beyond the limited capabilities of our collective consciousnesses."
Seria shook her head, no.
"You sell yourself short. Our conversation alone helped to ease what must have been my own instinctual panic, Olivia-chan."
While Othinus chose not to respond, Kamijou Touma couldn't help but feel his own grin grow exponentially in size, despite or perhaps because of the situation in which he found himself.
Those two were getting closer, his senpai and the girl he Understood so very well. They'd spoken for most of the trip, in fact. They accepted one another, for whatever reasons they had within their minds and hearts for doing so.
"Seria," Touma spoke, initiating a new branch of conversational exchange, "Index and me, we're heading to this shithole motel's third floor to see what Lessar and Musujime are up to. Just… thought I'd check up on you, see how you're doing. I know you can take care of yourself, but…"
Kumokawa Seria pecked him on the lips once more. Sighing as she did so, as her own tongue began to attack Kamijou Touma's.
Swiftly, she regained her composure, then softly cleared her throat as she broke the embrace.
"It's the thought that counts, my sweet little kohai. You're positively precious. I'm sure all I'll need is a good night's rest, and I should be back to my usual self. Truthfully, now that panic has subsided, I ought to admit to myself that in my involvement with "the Other Side", getting used to sights such as these should be a priority. Our world is quite obviously very different from the world Academy City presents to its residents."
"Seria. You sure you're okay?"
"I wouldn't lie to you. As always, I'll be right here waiting for you to return, Touma-kun."
Receiving a final soft, affectionate kiss from his senpai, Kamijou Touma took Index's hand into his own and departed with finality, the little silver-haired nun following closely behind him.
Both parties moved towards the elevator doors leading out from the motel's highest floor and passed by a perpetually-jogging Misaka Mikoto, who'd barely worked up a sweat, her fourth lap complete, a fifth beginning there and then. The Railgun waved in the duo's direction, and to Touma's further surprise both he and the girl who'd memorized over one hundred thousand Grimoires waved back.
"Touma, Touma."
"Index, Index."
Some mere few feet before the elevators' doors, the little nun forcibly pushed herself in front of her 'keeper', effectively blocking his path, at least in her own mind.
"Close your eyes, Tou-ma."
"Alright…"
He did just that. His eyelids slid shut, and he quietly waited for something to occur.
Then, something did occur.
A set of lips connected with his own. Soft, quivering and almost reluctant, they found their way, as did a set of arms, which were thrown around him.
His eyes opened, for a moment. The set of arms departed, releasing him from their hold.
Index had parted, either of her cheeks a bright shade of red. Despite this, even though there were tears visible in the corners of her eyes, she smiled, widely and genuinely.
"Tou-ma, I wanted to kiss you, too!"
"All you had to do was ask, y'know. You're so beautiful. I love you, Index."
"I l-love you too, Touma!"
With that, hand in hand, 'keeper' and 'charge' awaited the arrival of an elevator car, one which would, with any luck, deliver them to the motel's third floor, where 'Saint' Lessar and Musujime Awaki supposedly awaited them.
Until Saint Kanzaki Kaori would arrive, this was a welcome distraction.