London, England, United Kingdom.
February 10th, 2004. 10:16 PM.
The enormous, multi-levelled private jet had departed, following the 'dislodging' of its most recent 'load', the 'load' in question being, in fact, Tsuchimikado Motoharu and the Aztec magician Etzali. The airborne monstrosity that could block out the very sky when looming over a settlement, the ugly, misshapen product of technology placed into the hands of some madman from Academy City had come not to rest but instead to pilot itself in the absence of human control, returning to the walled City from whence it came with only its exhausted crew on board, most of whom were more than likely in the throes of deep slumber, attempting to shake off their most recent excursion.
As two of GROUP's members made headway towards St. George's Cathedral, no words were exchanged between them.
And, so, while 'smooth' wasn't a term that could be accurately used to describe the proceedings, when Tsuchimikado Motoharu's phone began to buzz in his pocket, he was loathe to scavenge for the device and answer the incoming attempt at two-way communication.
Further instabilities weren't required.
Still, perhaps it wasn't all bad. Maybe the Accelerator had picked up some useful information? Maybe he'd taken the smart route, and hadn't charged head-first into a figurative viper's den of magicians and espers alike without careful consideration.
Better yet, maybe he'd managed to lay out that psychotic serial murderer, Kamijou. If anyone could do it, it would be Accelerator.
With an almost surprising echo of hope pulsing within him, the Backstabbing Blade pulled out his cellular phone, answered the incoming attempt at two-way communication, and practically slapped the device's touchscreen interface against the side of his cheek.
"TTTTSSSSUUUUCCCHHHHIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIKKKKKKAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Even from the cellular phone's small and, by its owner's own admission, dinky external speaker, the feral screech uttered by the number one strongest esper surged forth, reverberating, and causing the Backstabbing Blade's tympanic membrane to vibrate, so forceful was the unseen magnitude of the vocalization.
The Aztec magician tilted his head, an eyebrows raised; across his face, an expression of concern had been hastily painted by the muscles beneath his false face's skin.
"Nice talking to you, too. What have you…"
"THAT GODDAMN FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! CHOPPED MY GODDAMN ARMS OFF, CHOPPED THE FUCKING THINGS!"
The Accelerator's panting could've pointed to a number of outcomes. Forcing himself to remain calm, huffing in bouts of oxygenated air through his nose, and then ejecting carbon dioxide from within his mouth, Tsuchimikado Motoharu exchanged glances with the Aztec magician.
"Kami-yan did it, didn't he, that fucking… psycho, goddamn it all. Be glad he didn't chop your neck, or turn you inside out. Are you bleeding out?"
"NO! No… no. Not… fucking… bleeding. Closed the vein endings, rerouted my… goddamn… blood flow, and managed to… stick some of the tendons back in. Had to… fucking just yank some out, useless now. Had to use my shirt to wrap the wound, I'm gonna need disinfectant and a fucking… Drink. Tadpoles in the goddamn water around here. Fuck. I don't even fucking know where I am, can't use my ability much. Fucking hurts, everything hurts like a bitch."
"Fucking…"
Hurling from within his mouth a glob of spit, out from between his lips and onto the pavement beneath his feet, Tsuchimikado Motoharu began to scan his eyes' vision over the structures lining London's sprawling urban environments. In the singular suburban neighbourhood through which the trio passed, closest to St. George's Cathedral, a maze of perfect streets, cobbled walkways, multistory homes and blooming upper-middle class dreams, one street alone must've been host to hundreds of structures, residential and business-oriented alike.
Nothing was going according to plan. It had all gone to Hell.
Then, however, in his frustration, an idea formed. From where it'd originated and from where it drew inspiration, the Backstabbing Blade couldn't have cared any less. Both were irrelevant subjects. His gaze turned to Etzali, while, on the other end, Accelerator babbled and cussed like a raging, steroid-enhanced sailor.
"Oi, you manage to find anything that Accelerator-chan has owned? Going to need to borrow it, real quick."
Bristol, England, United Kingdom.
February 10th, 9:48 PM.
A short period of time had passed, since the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer had parted ways with the Move Point user. Having followed her 'directions', if the simple pointing of a finger could be considered directions, Kamijou Touma had found himself in a certain situation.
Something surprising, an element unknown had come to descend to his vision, making itself known to him. He hadn't sought it out, but, he'd crossed paths with it, nonetheless. It was something unexpected, something that didn't quite fit the bill.
In fairness, there was plenty that he could say regarding surprises, and the experience of being surprised. Touma had assumed he'd seen everything there was to see, that the 'abandoned' motel, Hawkhaven was, indeed, nothing more than run-down shithole that'd come to be a base of operations for the Amakusa-style Remix of Church.
It was more than that. There was something deeper, something previously unseen. Perhaps this feeling was further bloated, heightened by the fact that that damnable feeling of being observed from afar had returned. Kamijou Touma searched about as best he could, but found nothing anomalous.
Kazakiri Hyouka could be ruled out of the equation; she was more than likely with Index, who was more than likely explaining plenty about the nature of the world hidden even from she who dwelled within the Imaginary Number District.
That didn't solve the problem, though. Hardly at all; if it wasn't born of Hyouka's invisible presence, then just what was the nature of the feeling? Deprived of answers, frustration attempted to worm its way into Kamijou Touma's higher mind.
It was denied entry, and forcibly repelled.
And so, regardless of the fact that he was almost certainly being observed by something, Touma pushed forward. Forcibly opening the unassuming and rather unsightly wooden door located next to the rotting, unmanned service desk, what lay within was not a series of ugly, mouldering halls, or a rotting staircase.
There was indeed a staircase, but it was hardly what Touma had imagined it would've, could've, or, perhaps even should've been, nor was there a hall of any kind present. In fact, the doorway hadn't even lead into a space that could've been considered a passageway.
Surrounded by concave brickwork walling, the staircase lead downwards, and as Touma approached, observing the finer details through his eyes of machine-phase matter and his detached nanorobotic scouting units, it looked to spiral downwards. The small enclosure of concave brickwork walls, ceiling and limited flooring was fully illuminated by proper lightning fixtures, beaming golden, synthetic light down upon the being who'd once been a 'normal high school boy'.
Apparently, Hawkhaven possessed a functioning source of electricity. Musujime Awaki did mention that she'd managed to connect her smartphone to a wireless connection. That was one mystery settled.
Kamijou Touma observed the ornately-designed and surprisingly urbanely designed staircase for a moment, before he stepped down onto it.
Not crafted from wooden materials at all, as the rest of the structures, both inside and out that dotted Hawkhaven seemed to be, it was like something straight out of Academy City itself.
For a while, he followed the twisting and spiralling staircase, keeping several nanorobotic scouting units nearby, each consistently and repeatedly scanning the environment around them. According to their reports, the brickwork walling surrounding him and the slanted, continuously sloping ceiling above were not abnormal in any way, shape or form. Of limestone origin, likely pulled from a quarry, the individual bricks had been altered in coloration only. Traces of paint were identified by Kamijou Touma's ever-loyal scouts, multiple layers of paint, in fact.
The staircase, too apparently held no secrets, interesting or otherwise. Forged from steel, its chemical makeup was not out of the ordinary. It was evidently not constructed using any sort of anomalous or unidentifiable means, having likely been welded together, either through the involvement of modern machinery or perhaps welded through the use of a skilled welder's torch.
This made enough sense to Touma, given the modus operandi of Hawkhaven's 'interesting' occupants. Perhaps they'd adopted the concept of 'hiding in plain sight'? This was his initial reasoning, and, for a moment he was about to stick with it; the conversation he was having with his own converted higher mind slowly became less of a conversation, and more of a debate.
Then, said reasoning quickly fell apart, once logic was applied to the situation, the cracks in the theory rooted out and exposed for what they were.
A secretive and masked area, no matter how small located in a dusty, crumbling motel was hardly a site which could be considered to be found in 'plain sight', by any means.
Finally, his tedious mental exercises found themselves able to end. No longer did Kamijou Touma find himself with mere bricks and a metallic staircase to keep him company and sate his converted higher mind's desire to explore and make notes.
Before him was a large, considerably imposing and reinforced door. Carved from wood materials and reinforced with great, flattened beams, each mounted to the door's otherwise flimsy frame with almost absurdly large bolts, the door had been fully opened, and if appearances were to be believed, lead into a space of unknown purpose and equally unknown origin, bathed in synthetic, generated light which painted and accented the brickwork flooring beneath him.
Taking a step forward, Kamijou Touma 'crossed' from one 'side', and into another. The doorway separated one proverbial realm from another.
Simplistic, perhaps even 'savage' architecture, mere brickwork and steel had given way to something else entirely. Beyond the reinforced door with the simplistic wood-carved doorway was something pulled straight from the swirling, sugar-laced depths of a child's dreamscape.
Almost entirely concave, the ceilings, flooring and walls looked as if they'd been forcibly pushed outwards, like the surface of a soda can that'd been stepped on and partially flattened.
Constructed with golden, sparkling brickwork, each individual brick that made up the concave walling was adorned with complex, intricate carvings displaying queer-looking beings; indeed, things that almost resembled a cross between an insect and a human being. The elements, if any used in the concave space's construction were unknown to Kamijou Touma, whose deployed nanorobotic scouts had become silent. They reported nothing, save the presence of oxygenated air within the concave space, and the elements that often accompanied it.
He looked upward, tilting his head, and adjusting his eyes' vision. From the ceilings, many enormous, metallic beams, each a soft hue of gold seemed to hang limply; from them there numerous bulb-like protrusions that were visible, and many produced soft, glowing light. How such small things could illuminate an entire, massive room, Kamijou Touma didn't know.
Though he observed as best he could with his own two eyes of machine-phase matter, he could identify no secrets and solve no riddles, if any riddles were indeed present there.
Depicted on the individual bricks, the images were accompanied by blocks of what looked like the alphabet of an unknown written tongue. Lacking punctuation of any kind, these blocks were both above and below the images. Resembling the hypothetical result of Arabic alphabetical letters being combined with Korean characters, the vaguely runic letters may as well have been scribbles. If they were in fact supposed to represent words of a language, their meaning could not be interpreted by the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer.
As he found himself falling back into the grasp of his own thoughts, returning to a conversation with his converted mind that he'd thought to have been abandoned, Touma was interrupted, his pattern of observation, consideration and internal debate broken by the soft tones of a vocalization. Throughout the concave space, the spoken words echoed.
"Fascinating, isn't it, Kamijou-san? Quite unlike anything you've ever seen before… I felt the same way, when we first crossed paths with the Ahnk'ji, one of whom stands here, before you. Remain calm, he does not seek to cause harm. He's a friend."
From the centre of the concave space, Kanzaki Kaori, the Saint of the Far East had approached, though she was not the only individual present. Both Itsuwa and Tatemiya Saiji had evidently accompanied Kanzaki Kaori. The former offered Touma a warm, welcoming wave, while the latter merely nodded his head affirmatively.
She wasn't alone. Although accompanied by other human beings, Kanzaki Kaori was accompanied by something else as well, something beyond the scope of Kamijou Touma's understanding, something beyond the realm of humanity, and its collective understanding of the world the specie walked upon.
Entirely aqua blue in coloration, with many darkened specks upon its form, the insectoid existence stood erect, with a total of six elongated, but gracefully curled legs emerging from beneath its tall, slender form. Long, silky bolts of cloth dangled from its shell, and from its upper torso, each lavender, and each possessed thin, golden trim.
These six limbs the insectoid creature possessed were covered in thin, delicate little hairs; while there were not enough to completely mask the aqua blue coloration of the carapace beneath, the collective was thick enough to be noticeable, especially when highlighted, and accented beneath the synthetic light that beamed throughout the concave space. All six of these curled limbs were decorated with numerous, ornate bands, each of which had many carvings upon their surfaces, the letters of an unknown alphabet, and the words of a language which Touma could not comprehend, identical to the alphabetical characters that partially dotted the carvings on the concave walls. From the top of its head, two long, thin, singular antennae fell, and reached its ornately-designed midsection. Its eyes, with their golden irises and their catlike pupils glowed unnaturally, as they moved about within the sockets of its gumdrop-shaped head.
Perhaps Touma should've been frightened, horrified even. Perhaps he should've reeled away and cried out, "what is that thing?!" or something of the sort. Any cry of shock would've sufficed, if such was the case. Maybe he could've, if he wished to do so, or if he remained as what he'd once been, maybe he would've. Such was hypothetical.
Yet, despite all of these factors, hypothetical or otherwise, Touma was in no position to do so. Kamijou Touma felt no fear, very little surprise, and only mild confusion, with a general lack of understanding.
Stumbling upon strange, even disturbing things was nothing new, not for him, not for the being that was no longer human, no longer a 'normal high school boy'.
He had befriended a sentient collection of AIM Diffusion Fields, he had been dragged through thousands of worlds specifically designed to tear asunder the very fabric of his mind by an all-powerful Magic God, and he had punched an Archangel in the face. He had faced down Saints, and the strongest esper in the entire world.
An abnormally tall insect-human hybrid abomination was not the strangest thing that Kamijou Touma had seen. The real surprise lay in the fact that the insectoid creature didn't seem bent on assaulting him.
Having stared him down for some time, the insectoid creature then spun its head in place, 'rolling' it three hundred and sixty degrees.
Leaning forward, it crossed its two frontal legs across one another, balancing on its remaining four. From within its decorated shell, which protruded from its back, an elongated and pointed limb emerged on either side of its armoured torso. The insectoid creature clacked them together repeatedly, and bobbed its odd, gumdrop-shaped head repeatedly.
Touma could only assume that his was some kind of greeting ritual, not unlike two businessmen shaking hands. He was, in fact, right on the money. The insectoid creature was indeed extending a greeting, one of ancient Ahnk'ji tradition, and of the highest honour.
For a few moments, it seemed to struggle, uncomfortably turning from left to right before it shook its head, as if in exasperation. Two small, clacking jaws in the centre of the creature's face parted, and from within many queer tendril-like protrusions emerged. As they whipped about, moving in conjunction with the movements of its jaws, harsh, heavily-accented vocalizations were produced.
"I cannot speak to this one. Its mind is not opened, Or perhaps, more to the point, there appears to be no mind in which I might communicate."
The insectoid creature and the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer exchanged glances, for a moment. Loathe to offend the creature, Touma would've sweated, if such an act was still possible for him to perform.
"You seem shocked. Yes, I speak your language, human. Many of them in fact, your species' "English" simply happens to be closest in its linguistic and alphabetical structure to our own Ahnkah, hence my preference for this particular human tongue. Forgive my accent, if you would, the structural makeup of my mode of physical speech is far different in its construction when compared to and alongside your species' own."
Thinking proverbially on his toes, Touma's converted mind quickly attempted to slap together a reply; something, anything that would show the creature he acknowledged its previous nonverbal greeting, and the fact that he'd heard the creature's disjointed, broken English proclamations.
"U… Uh huh, it's er, good to meet you too? Don't mean to seem bigoted, I'm not trying to seem like that, but, I've never seen anything quite like you before. Hey, look, that's fine. I'm different, too. So, we're… er, kind of in the same boat, then."
"I would not imply you to be bigoted. Your relative ease of speech and your lack of inborn, instinctual fear reflects an understanding and tolerant state of being. My physical appearance, by your own species' gaze is frightening, perhaps, as yours might be to a Ewephyte who has laid his eyes upon the human form for the first time.
"Many insultingly make quick comparisons of your species to the great apes, yet, unlike those mere beasts, your species is, in and of itself, a nigh-infinite font of untapped potential. Your specie, still in its infancy, has escaped the confines of its cradle, laid footsteps upon this world's moon, and upon worlds near and distant. Indeed, you have accomplished so very much. We are so proud."
Ascending the smooth, sloping surface which lead downward, towards the centre of the golden space with its many carvings, the Saint had closed the distance between them, and approached the Once-Bearer of the Imagine Breaker.
"Kanzaki," Touma remarked, tone of voice practically dripping with exasperation, "it's really good to see you. Fuck, I've missed you… So much, but, I'm completely, completely lost. I'd love to talk a bit more casually, chat about how things have been, but I need answers. I need to know what's happening, so I can figure out what I'm doing, and how I'm going to do it. I'm also curious about your friend here."
"I understand completely… I can only imagine how confused you must be. I promise that, no matter what, you're safe here."
"I don't distrust you, but you're going to explain everything, right?"
"Of course. It's why I had Saint Lessar and Thomson-san divert your course, and deliver you from the hands of an English Puritan lackey."
"English Puritan…" the insectoid creature cryptically interjected, "a mere label, an umbrella term which villains lurk beneath, a problem, indeed; one which, if left to its own schemes will help to undo everything."
Kamijou Touma chose to 'conveniently' ignore the insectoid creature's words, however true they might've been. That creature wasn't the focus of his attention.
"Holy shit, Kanzaki, that's great… look, if I sound like I'm panicking, I'm not."
"You'd suggest that panicking is a bad thing, Kamijou Touma?"
"Depends on the situation, I'm more used to knowing things quickly, being able to gather info, but… can't really do that right now and it's getting to me pretty bad."
"I'm sorry. If there's anything at all that I can do…"
"Help me make sense of all this? Not just this, but, the whole situation. I thought we were supposed to be beating up on this "Spring-Heeled Jack" guy, but Agnese-san says you're with him. Also, he's a demon or something? Nobody mentioned anything about this. What about Birdway? Was Tsuchim… the snake just pulling nonsense out of his ass?"
Touma didn't receive a verbal response from his Saintly conversational partner, not at first.
Instead, Kanzaki Kaori took him into her arms, and embraced him as tightly as she possibly could. Nearly straining her own arms' muscles, the Saint of the Far East calmly placed the side of her face against his breast of machine-phase matter.
Though they stood against a sloping surface, both the Saint and the being who'd once been a 'normal high school boy' fought tooth and nail against the laws of gravity, which demanded them both to unceremoniously tumble.
From below, the insectoid creature silently observed. Human courtship rituals were very queer things, without a doubt.
And so with Yin, there had to exist a corresponding Yang. Within Kanzaki Kaori's mind, there was less clarity. Instead, replacing the elements of understanding and solid fact was a matter which needed to be tended to, a claim which needed to be proven true or false.
Resting her hand upon Kamijou Touma's right breast, she laid her palm flat, and felt for a pulse, for a beating, drumming heart.
Where a heart should've been beating, there was nothing, not even a single thud.
Index had been right. Why was the entire world out to make him suffer?
Why him, of all people? Why him, he who had stuck his neck out for the innocent time and time again, and even for those who weren't innocent? Couldn't the world find someone more deserving to pick on?
The very thought wracked Kanzaki Kaori's mind. It might as well have been another metaphorical blade, one among so many.
There was only one place for the negativity to go, and that was out.
So, in response, as if by convenience, Kamijou Touma swiftly took notice.
"Kan… zaki? Heeyyy, come on, now. Why are you crying? A face like yours is too perfect to be stained by tears, so chin up, beautiful. Whatever's wrong, we'll take care of it together. You think I'm going to back out? Nope, not me, I'm here until the problem's solved, and the bad guys are laid out. You think that all of this is too crazy for me or something like that? Please, this is nothing."
Even as Kanzaki Kaori's lips curled upwards, into a warm and genuine smile, there was salty, liquid agony dripping down either of her cheeks. From the corners of her eyes they fell, rolling down her soft features, past her lips and downwards, onto her single-sleeved denim jacket.
"I've heard tales of your suffering, Kamijou Touma, your many passions. I'd like for you to know that I too have suffered. I too have felt great pains, and I, too have had many a knife dug into my flesh, their blades then cruelly pulled about. For myself, I hold rage which I choose not to act upon in my heart. For you, I hold grief. You are utterly precious to me, and to Index."
"You're precious to me, too, Kanzaki. So precious."
"The way she talks about you… She adores you, simply put. It's only through you that we are able to rekindle our friendship once lost. The harm this unjust world has visited upon you pains me, but I yet push on despite it, because someone has to."
Kamijou Touma could push onward, regarding his inquiries, but, such would be cold even by his own admission. There would be time to further question, later.
Instead of pushing forward on that front, he did so through another, proverbially changing trajectories.
"Who hurt you, Kanzaki? Who caused you pain? You should tell me. Tell me who did it, and we'll make them pay, together, the two of us. I'll bleed them dry, if you can't do it yourself. I know that you've got certain rules, and whatnot, but I don't have anything holding me back. I'm more than ready to be a proxy."
It was then, as he looked onward, with the Saint of the Far East held tightly in his embrace, that Touma noticed a piece of furniture in the centre of the concave space, where its sloping surfaces ended, and gave way to a flat section of golden brickwork flooring.
There was a great table, light and golden in coloration, like all other physical elements within the concave space. Elongated, like something found within the dining hall of an aristocrat's manor-home on some cliff somewhere, overlooking a thrashing ocean, there were numerous pieces of furniture surrounding the table, though some looked stranger than others. Some were 'regular' seats, with four legs and tall, ornate backrests, while others seemed to strangely lack backrests of any kind, and possessed only two legs. These queer seats were situated between the 'normal' seats, spread about seemingly at random. Presumably, these strange seats were those that Kanzaki Kaori's 'unique' compatriot would use.
If what Agnese Sanctis said was truth, then there were more of these insectoid creatures roaming about. These 'Ahnk'ji'.
Straying, his eyes' vision drifted further upwards, focusing upon the table's surface. Laid across it was something that resembled a tablecloth. Many small, chess-like pieces were placed about on this tablecloth that almost certainly wasn't actually a tablecloth.
Finally, after a period of extended silence, spent with her head rested against Kamijou Touma's breast, Kanzaki Kaori managed to reign in her emotions, force herself to stand upright, and speak.
"I am not the important one, here. The fact that I was harmed is irrelevant to the situation at hand. I allowed it, willingly, because I foolishly believed I had no other alternative.
"The harm I suffered is irrelevant. I desire vengeance not for myself, but for the human race which has been wronged time and time again, and… For my dear friend, Index, who has been for too long the brunt of the religious establishment's cruelty and injustice.
"For all of these long years I've betrayed the very concept of my own Magic Name… I ramble, Kamijou Touma, and yet you must only be growing more confused, my apologies."
With a soft clearing of her throat, Kanzaki Kaori turned her back to Kamijou Touma, and wordlessly commanded him to follow in her footsteps, with a wave of her hand.
Though he did so, he did not join her in her apparent, temporary vow of silence.
"Tsuchimikado, that goddamn snake, he's hinted at knowing who fucked with Index's head, pardon my language, bad force of habit. If he knows, does that mean…?"
"Before I speak any names, let us start the tale from the beginning, from where many tales choose to begin; from the very beginning, before you or I were even born, before you or I had even come to exist in our mothers' wombs as a collection of so many cells."
With the sloping surface having been conquered, both the Saint of the Far East and the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer found flat flooring, in the dead centre of the concave space. As Touma observed the concave walls surrounding him, they seemed to twist, and spin, and perpetually drift from one side, and to the other.
At the farthest end of the table, Kanzaki Kaori took her vigil. Placing the palms of her hands upon the table's golden surface, she looked downward, toward the tablecloth that wasn't a tablecloth.
It was anything but a simple tablecloth.
Upon further inspection, it was revealed to Kamijou Touma to be a detailed map, complete with shrubbery and bodies of water, coloured with great attention paid to detail. Viewed from a top-down perspective, many small pieces, likely pilfered from a board game were placed about, situated on specific areas of the landscapes depicted on the map.
Some few moments after Touma took his place at the table, following the example set by others, including Kaori and Tatemiya Saiji, another member of the ragtag party took to his side. An arm found itself snaking its way around his shoulders, and he was pulled downwards.
Leaning in, Itsuwa spoke softly, with glowing red cheeks; barely capable of holding back laughter, she seemed to struggle at even inhaling oxygenated air.
"Touma-san, I see your… Conquests… Are still ongoing… Just how many girls are you going to woo?! Are you going to have our whole Parish under your benevolent wing?! First, them, and then what, the entire world? Is this some scheme to create a Master Race?!"
Then, Itsuwa broke. Stumbling away from an amused Touma and throwing her head back, she cackled aloud like a wicked witch, ripped straight from some classic horror film.
Even as the Amakusan's outbursts 'damaged' the moment, Kanzaki Kaori couldn't seem to help but chuckle softly, more to herself than to anyone else. The insectoid creature who'd remained oddly silent clacked its jaws together. Perhaps this was the creature's way of 'laughing'? Touma could only wildly guess.
Its suddenly broken period of extended 'silence' was not true one of silence at all, outwardly, perhaps but not inwardly.
Within its mind, the insectoid creature exchanged in a lengthy verbal debate with others, through a specie-wide, shared and meticulously evolved telepathic 'network', something comparable to the hive mind that was the Misaka Network. Though naturally generated through natural selection's evolutionary process, and not born of science's synthetic miracles, this telepathic 'network' operated similarly in concept.
Turning, Touma faced Itsuwa, who'd just barely managed to keep herself from falling over. Adorned in a simple cyan-coloured, flannel shirt and a pair of light-coloured Capris, her feet were clad in bunny slippers, of all the footwear she could've chosen to slip herself into. Matching the coloration of her flannel shirt, large, fluffy ears protruded from the individual pieces of footwear.
"Itsuwa… It's great to see you again. Shit, it's been a while, hasn't it? Can you make me a promise?"
"Maybe, it depends entirely on what that promise is."
"Never change, okay?"
"I'll try, Touma-san. What if I'm inexplicably struck by a sudden and unexpected onset of crippling depression? Or what if I undergo insane amounts of character development and become a dark, brooding girl with a fedora and a trench coat, with a tragic backstory and tons of emotional baggage? I could have entire story arc!"
There was a chance that the exchange could've continued; as much as the Saint of the Far East, the Priestess of the Amakusa-style Remix of Church would've liked nothing more than to see someone as upbeat as Itsuwa attempt to lighten the darkened mood, there were issues that needed to be addressed.
With a sigh, Kaori spoke her piece.
"Itsuwa, I'm going to have to ask you to settle yourself down. There is a lot for us to go over with Kamijou Touma, and, given the late hour, time is of the essence. We've a lot to accomplish in an absurdly short period of time."
Though she could've continued for hours upon end, Itsuwa obliged. With a gentle clearing of her throat, Itsuwa stepped back, and neared the table, separating herself physically from Kamijou Touma, who offered her a wink, and a nod.
As if she was in on some secret, Itsuwa offered Touma the same acts in return. A frustrated Saiji merely shook his head and clicked his tongue, continually peering down at the map below her, stretched across the surface of the table.
As much as Kanzaki Kaori would've preferred for the mood to remain lightened, such a thing just wasn't possible. It would have to be forcibly darkened.
"Kamijou Touma," Kaori spoke softly, with a deliberate and firm tone of voice. Looking to the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer, the boy, who, if Index's words were true (and all signs certainly pointed to this being the case) was no longer a boy at all, she felt the beginnings of liquid agony's second attempt at descent.
With a soft huff, she took to blinking it back, the Saint's vision locked with Kamijou Touma's own.
"Firstly, there are introductions."
Turning her gaze to the insectoid creature, Kaori smiled warmly in its direction, and beckoned it forward with a wave of her hand.
And so it responded. It began to move forward, the pointed, sharpened tips of its footless legs clacking against the golden brickwork flooring beneath it. With its arm-like protrusions having retreated into its shell, the insectoid creature almost looked as if it lacked any sort of upper limbs.
"Kamijou Touma," Kanzaki Kaori casually greeted, keeping her gaze focused on the insectoid creature that neared her, "this is Prophet Skoram. Among the Ahnk'ji peoples, a "prophet" is what an ambassador would be in our own culture, a representative. He and his peoples are part of the reason why we're here, acting as we are."
Suddenly, as if she'd flipped some switch within her brain, Kanzaki Kaori ceased to speak Japanese, and spoke in fluent English, turning her gaze to the insectoid creature.
"Honoured Prophet, this is him, Touma Kamijou, who you've heard so very much about."
Given its previously 'failure', if failure had been what it truly was, the insectoid creature apparently chose not to verbally respond. Instead, it looked to Kaori, whose gaze remained focused on the creature's facial features, or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Without eyebrows, a nose or lips, the insectoid creature's face was more akin to a blank slate with two eyes.
What occurred, Kamijou Touma couldn't have possibly known. Nanorobotic scouts that fluttered invisibly around him delivered only basic environmental information, and data regarding Kanzaki Kaori's brainwave activities. She didn't seem troubled, as these brainwaves did not spike beyond normal rates of ebb and flow.
What he couldn't have known was that a mental exchange occurred, a delivering of information from one party and two another; something akin to the abilities known as "Mental Out" and "Mental Stinger", utilizing very similar mechanics. Though derived through differing circumstances, and utilized in different means, the similarities remained present.
"Kaori" of "Clan" "Kanzaki", this one's mind is simply not average, and therefore I find that I cannot reach out to him as I do to the rest of your specie, those of whom I've been granted the pleasure of encountering thus far. I would much prefer to communicate through the mode of Enlightened Speech. Might I request a favour? I will require a translator."
"Of course, Honoured Prophet, I'll do my best to transcribe your words to our friend. Even if you are unable to enter his mind and speak to him yourself, trust in our word. The Amakusa are in his debt. The world is in his debt. He is a kind and caring person."
"Awakened?"
"He would likely stand in solidarity with the goals your people have, and the future you desire to see humanity uphold, rest easy, Honoured Prophet."
While Prophet Skoram and Saint Kanzaki Kaori exchanged words mentally, Kamijou Touma had only recently taken to Itsuwa's side. Leaning in, he spoke softly into the Amakusan's ear.
"Look, I have to ask. What's with your friend? I assume it's a friend of yours, at least. I've seen some crazy shit, but this is pretty "out there."
Then, as if she was a father about to give his son the talk about the nature of the birds and the bees, Itsuwa wrapped her arm around Touma's shoulder, and shook her head, no.
"Ahnk'ji. They're real old, like, older than our ancient ancestors and our ancestors go back millions of years; but I'm sure you know that. You live in Academy City, after all.
"Humanity is millions of years? Itsuwa, humanity is only a few hundred thousand years old."
"Liiiieeessss~, lies and slander! That figures, though, honesty never has been one of the establishment's strong points. To make a long story a bit less long, the Ahnk'ji bug-guys are trying to help humanity achieve peace and become "Awakened", which basically means evolving. It's all hippie stuff, but, really, they're good people."
"People?"
"Yeah, people, they've got a society and everything, huge underground cities, and all sorts of crazy technology, stuff that would make your head spin. What they have makes Academy City's tech look like junk from the first American Civil War. Can you believe that they're genderless? They're asexual, they literally screw themselves! That's why the Priestess usually refers to Skoram as "xe", it's their pronoun. Physically, they almost remind me of this one bug Tatemiya-kun and I found one time, under a rock… it had, like, eighty legs! The little bum hissed at us, too!"
Turning her gaze, Itsuwa looked to her slipper-clad feet. Kamijou Touma's eyes followed.
"Speaking of bugs – feel free to call the Ahnk'ji guys "bugs" or "bug-guys", by the by, by, by, they think it's hilarious – one of their cities is right under us, actually! This is just sort of a gateway, an entrance point.
"The pictures on the wall, they all tell a story, if you know how to look at them. It's the story of how the Ahnk'ji found this place, and why they decided to build one of their cities here. You have to learn the language to get it, too; Skoram would teach you if you asked xim. Don't tell anyone about that, though. They've been friends with us for a while, but… Lately… We humans have been doing some bad things, so, they want to help."
"They're not wrong about that, Itsuwa. Humanity's fucked. If they think they can help get us out of the ditch, get us to stop killing each other, then, Hell, I think we should take all the help that we can get. They should talk to our retarded governments."
"Touma-san, it's not quite that simple…"
Though the exchange between Itsuwa and Kamijou Touma could've potentially continued, ever-spiralled down a proverbial rabbit hole, Kanzaki Kaori, having become mentally 'available' once more, interjected and turned her gaze to the Imagine Breaker's former Bearer, and to the Amakusan she-warrior Itsuwa.
"Kamijou Touma, since Prophet Skoram is incapable of speaking to you telepathically, which is his main form of communication with others of his people, and by extension with us, I'll be acting as a translator. Let's begin, as time is, as ever, of the essence. I did manage to briefly overhear Itsuwa's abridged version of our relationship with the Ahnk'ji, and, truthfully, abridged or not, she described the situation more eloquently than I ever could."
"P-Priestess, y-you're too kind!"
"Have you ever been regaled with the tale of the 'espers of old'? Likely not, it is a part of our species' history that relevant parties would much prefer to be lost to time's flows."
"It's not mentioned all that often," Touma remarked, shifting his nanorobotic body's controlled weight about. "Some in my class have asked. Not even our teacher, Komoe-sensei seemed to be able to properly recall it. She did mention something about rock formations and something else about Stonehenge."
Kaori nodded, affirmatively, and then gently shook her head, as if to silently say "figures".
"As I'd assume; to make a long story slightly shorter, as Itsuwa has already done for us, they wielded magic, the force conjured by those who were envious of the espers' power freely, which, understandably, aggravated the 'magicians of old', though, not enough to spark conflict. Perhaps there is some limited, revolutionist lore in Academy City's history books, but… Such simply isn't true. Any tales you have been told of how espers came into the world are false, Kamijou Touma."
As Touma's vision wandered, he noticed some anomalous happenings. Itsuwa seemed to tense up, becoming oddly and highly uncharacteristically uncomfortable, at least physically. Saiji seemed stoic, as always, continually jotting something down onto a small pad of paper with a ball-point pen he'd taken to grasping, occasionally looking up to observe the placement of the various game board pieces that had been spread across the map. He seemed utterly indifferent, regarding the proceedings.
"The power of the esper was not developed. It was given to us, it was taught to us."
Then, a cog in the machine, a monkey wrench forcibly grinding the proceedings to a halt.
Once more, the feeling of being observed; seemingly Kamijou Touma wasn't the only individual affected. Itsuwa looked about, seemingly perturbed. Even the stoic Tatemiya Saiji looked up from his work, whatever work that was and raised an eyebrow. Exchanging glances with Itsuwa, the Substitute Supreme Pontiff clicked his tongue once more.
"Hey… Something's off. Touma-san, nobody followed you down here, right? We're not going to have "surprise bad guy with a hood and a sneaky weapon number seven hundred and fifty" pop out, are we?"
Like clockwork, her hand fell. Kaori gripped the hilt of her Shichiten Shichitou. Brow furrowing, the Saint spoke no more words. Instead, her eyes moved about in her head, as she silently observed her surroundings.
Inside of her mind, prophet Skoram spoke.
"Kaori" of "Clan" "Kanzaki", if there is an assailant who has found their way into Ahnk'Kiraj I am incapable of visualizing them."
"I'm not certain if an assailant or an otherwise curious member of Touma Kamijou's entourage has found their way in. Honoured Prophet, no matter what, the Amakusa will protect you."
"Child, do not be so anxious, so eager to leap upon our foes and fight battles rightfully our own. Though warmly welcomed, we do not require your protection. I most certainly do not. Rest calmly and await the unveiling of this incident's true nature. Those of your species are always so eager to make war. Try peace, "Kaori" of clan "Kanzaki". Try peace."
So, even as all fell silent, it was Kamijou Touma who broke the otherwise deafening lack of vocalizations.
"Look, Kazakiri? If that's you, feel free to come out. Nobody here's going to hurt you. We're all friends here, so, feel free to… un-disappear if you want to. I'm just as thirsty for answers as you are. I bet Index was too tired to explain, huh? This whole thing must be pretty confusing for you, I'd bet. I'm confused, too, so don't worry too much about it."
And, then, from nothingness she emerged, lips curled downward into a small frown.