A/N: Hi there. I have approached the end of my exams and I'm back with this chapter. Hope you'll enjoy.

'Eh... Ah...'

For the eleventh time, Mikoto hit the ground with a thud. This time, though, she could not stand up once more. What remained unchanged was the fact that her eyes were still burning with fury, that her body was still convulsing because of the compound effect of extreme pain and acute agony, and that she wanted to stand up, fight back and crush the loathed enemy of Accelerator.

Accelerator lowered his eyes. Sure, it had been effortless to counter Mikoto's attacks; knocking her with his fingertips was all it took. However, there began to be something rising inside him. It was unknown to him; he had never felt it before. He didn't feel it when he kicked and punched people and knocked their souls out of their wits. He didn't feel it any time when he killed the sisters - any one of them. He didn't feel it when he experimented different murder methods, either.

But he felt it from seeing Mikoto dashing at him like a madman.

Clearly, that sensation had been gradually building up over the night, but he couldn't name it - he definitely couldn't name it. This strange feeling intensified whenever Mikoto charged at him with a blood-covered body. It was familiar - so familiar, that Accelerator was afraid of it. He wanted to run away from this emotion. He wanted to press it down, and he wanted to deny its intangible existence that felt more and more tangible. Yet, the more he wanted to avoid facing his earnest emotions, the more powerfully those emotions asserted themselves.

Must he, for the first time in a long while, confront himself?

He could no longer take it; suppressing that genuine feeling was tearing him apart. He released the dam gate of his mind, and water from the reservoir of his heart flooded down to fill up his mind and his complete existence.

He recalled an avalanche of images. Of himself. Turning round to look at the teleporter lying on the ground, Accelerator gave a faint smile. This time, though, it wasn't evil at all. He stared at Kuroko's ravaged body, and, as his gaze softened, his inner voice, which so vociferously sounded, and his self-inquiry, which earnestly begged an answer, finally emerged on top:

The world, which you guys are trying to save with so much stupidity, is similarly resided by all of us. But isn't this world a cruel and brutal place? I hate this world so much I do not see much point in its continued existence, yet you guys are doing all this to preserve it? Is this how it should be? Is this how this world should be protected?

No, this ought not to be the case. This world is an ugly place where fighting won't stop unless one forces others to stop. This world does not deserve to be preserved because it fails people by betraying their wish to reside here peacefully.

...

Am I wrong? Am I wrong that peace can be attained only if I become a level 6? Is there actually another way to live peacefully in this world even without absolute power? Is it true that people can co-exist with one another without resorting to violence?

...

No. This I have never learnt about. There's no way that that will be true; all I have learnt from my experiences is that the only way to give peace to this world is for me to get absolute deterrence so that no one will ever fight me again.

...

Isn't it?

Accelerator realised that the more he grappled to deal with those thoughts, the more he couldn't think coherently and logically. What had now become overwhelming was fragments of the past. Many years ago, he used to still recall things that happened before, like a collector occasionally sorting through the pile of old items he has stored up in his storage room. However, as the mysterious but powerful agony due to recollection always eventually forced him to lose control of himself every time he did so, he simply avoided doing it altogether later on. For years by then, he had not been recalling his past because that had always been too painful and hence too difficult. For too long now, Accelerator had prevented what happened before from influencing him or even coming up in his mind. However, this time, it was impossible not to recall the journey he had travelled along. A question was raised: how had an innocent person transformed into a demon, who could kill 20,000 copies of humans without a blink?

He wondered what the answer to that would be.

There was a boy. He had hair, eyes, two ears, a nose and a mouth; he had a body, two arms, two hands and two legs - honestly, it's not like most of us do not have those body parts. He had an unremarkable name with three kanji characters in front and two characters behind. There was a time when things were completely ordinary for him. He had a family of three: his strict father, his forgiving mother and himself. He had a lot of friends, whom he loved to play with and who always accepted him. He shared smiles and tears, excitement and sorrow with those people, whom he always could relate to. Nobody fought him, nobody was scared of him, and nobody was his enemy. To him, to protect others meant nothing more than treasuring those around him. There was almost nothing unique about him except his individuality and personality - insignificant compared to the similarity he shared with others.

He lived in the suburb of a peaceful, tranquil Japanese country town, and those things used to be the case.

They changed in the boy's sixth year in life.

One night, something strange occurred to him. He was shocked awake by excruciating pain, which shot along his spines and veins and exploded in his body in the middle of his sleep. When he opened his eyes, he saw the world turning in frenzied revolutions in front of him. Every colour was added to that world: green, red, yellow, orange and god-knows-what. His heart was pumping at a crazy speed, and he felt that his head was about to explode at any time. His senses were completely messed up. One second he felt extremely hot, but another second he felt extremely cold; one moment he felt that he was quickly expanding to take up all the space in the universe, but another moment he felt that he was rapidly contracting to one tiny point.

(Scientists would later discover that the sudden acquisition of very strong esper power, as opposed to gradual training following curriculums like the Power Development Program, generally involves the major restructuring of the brain. The rewiring of brain wiring usually distorts senses, but where and how the distortion takes place is an open question. The degree of that distortion also varies among individuals, but it usually doesn't persist very long.)

Some time later - he didn't know how long it took - he fell asleep again amongst all those phantasms and illusions.

The next morning, he woke up and found that he seemed to have returned to normal. He no longer felt pain, and all that he could see, hear and feel had returned to how they should be. It was a brilliant day in Japan with the sun generously pouring its rich light and warmth onto the island nation, and he went out to play with his friends. As he approached the group, his friends waved at him, inviting him to join another day of unfettered fun. Who would suppose not? They had enjoyed that form of fun for years, so there was no reason to assume that the fun wouldn't continue to be enjoyed.

But that fun was abruptly ended. A loud scream rented the air, and everybody turned to look in shock. A girl, who had touched the boy, had her right arm broken into many segments. The boy didn't realise what happened. He stretched his hand over to touch the girl's shoulder, but that girl was knocked onto the ground by that contact.

He looked around in utter bewilderment. On everyone's face there was horror, and a few moments of silence and stillness passed before people ran in all directions.

'Take this girl to a hospital!'

'Get away from him now!'

'Don't touch him! He can break you with that!'

'Run now!'

Within seconds, everybody left him, leaving the area he could see vacant. He was still shocked at what happened and still couldn't understand. He didn't mean to hurt his friend, he didn't even intend to apply any force on his friend, but his friend was injured.

Why had he hurt his friend?

He felt a surge of blood shot up into his brain making its unwelcome entrance there, and his skull pressed hard against the swollen brain. He began hearing weird sounds, and his vision quickly became distorted. The world again began to turn around him, and blackness covered his eyes.

He woke up to the deafening sound of sirens and loudspeakers. Standing up, he saw that police officers, military personnel and tanks had completely surrounded him in a closely knitted ring. Rows of machine guns, held by nervous gunmen, stuck out their blood-thirsty mouths, and soldiers, row after row, locked their auto-rifles on him. A bit further away, the barrels of some modern 155 mm and 105 mm artillery proudly protruded into the smoking sky. Above him, attack helicopters hovered, turning anxious circles over his head.

He was puzzled. Not one face showed him any sign of familiarity or friendliness as if they surrounded not a six-year-old boy, but an unwelcome alien. The boy simply wanted to get out. He wanted to leave this weird encirclement. He wanted to return to the familiar home of his and the company of his friends. He also wanted to ask. He wanted to ask what had happened, he wanted to ask why this had happened, and he wanted to ask what would happen. He walked towards one point on the circumference, but the soldiers pointed at him even more intently.

'Stop moving!'

That command came from a loudspeaker on a military truck. He instinctively stopped on his spot.

'Do not move at all! Put your hands behind your head! We will open fire if you fail to follow those instructions!'

He felt that the ground below was shaking, crumbling and sinking; it actually wasn't, but he could barely stand. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't understand. Wasn't the world so peaceful and joyful just moments ago? Wasn't he about to play with his friends? Wasn't he among the most normal, harmless and thus untargeted people on Earth?

Why was he the enemy of the people now?

He couldn't take it. What could a six-year-old boy do? Confronting this entire world? Becoming the enemy of all human beings? Tears torrented down his cheeks. He wanted to find his father, his mother and his friends who were always so friendly and acceptive towards him. He didn't care; he wanted to get out of here. Therefore, he walked even closer towards the circumference.

'Fire!'

For a moment, he felt almost nothing - it was not that nothing happened, but that his nervous system was overwhelmed by an avalanche of information and went blank, just like your overloaded computers. He could hear all so many different sounds, yet he couldn't discern a sound; he could see all so many rapidly flickering images, yet he couldn't really make out what he actually saw. Only one sensation was clear and distinct - the ground was violently trembling under his feet, as if it would tear apart any moment to completely engulf him.

A few minutes later, the world returned to peace. The boy had long regained consciousness, but he stood there, still unconscious of what he had actually done. Slowly, he walked past some charred steel which used to be modern tanks and some burnt flesh which used to be living human beings. There were holes - huge holes - everywhere on the ground, which he carefully avoided by going around them. While he walked, some helicopters, barely hovering with broken engines or turbines, reached their final destination: the ground. Where there used to be houses, nothing was left but rubble. His parents, his friends and everybody in the town should have been buried under the dead weight of stones, bricks and cement. They were surely dead.

He killed everybody. He killed everybody who loved him and whom he loved.

He was a devil.

Purposeless, he walked all over the city. The sun sank below the horizons, the moon climbed up, and the sun rose up again. He sat, walked, sat down again and in the end was not able to move anymore. He simply stood where he was, and he again allowed torrents of tears to blur his vision.

Then, he felt something piercing his nape. He fell onto the ground and passed out.

Darkness embraced him, and there was no escape from it.

A nine-year-old - let's leave it like that because although he's technically at a boy's age, he's more mature than his peers so he resembles more a teenager - was sitting on the floor. He could not remember how many days it was that he had stayed in the same cell, but he believed it must have been a long time. But he didn't know exactly how long it was. It could be an hour or a decade, for they all felt the same in this timeless, spaceless place. All four walls were made of white polished piles so if there was light, the tiny room would surely glitter with blinding lustre. But there really was no light. Discounting the occasional faint flash of the torchlight of the patrolling guards, there was no light whatsoever to shine this sorry, god-forsaken patch of land. The true reason for not installing light was to cut costs on unnecessary things - things that the subsistence of the people incarcerated here required not - but it seemed more palpable that the Institute just did not want to offer the inmates even the semblance of hope.

His stomach rang an urgent alarm bell, and he realised that it had not eaten quite a while. Maybe for a whole day, or maybe a week or so; who knows? He got food at irregular intervals, and although the quality of the food can sometimes be fine, usually whatever he permitted to flow down his gullet made his entire digestive system go on strike. Better than nothing, however; he knew very well the feeling of extreme starvation. At doing that, the people at the Institute were the best. They knew very well their objective: to force you into compliance without killing you, for they still need you as a test subject, a guinea pig and, essentially, an existence with some experimental value.

When the boy was first sent here, he refused to listen to them and tried to break out of the place. Somehow, they managed to control him despite his power - they were called the Special Abilities Institute for a reason. They locked him up in a dark room, which was even darker than the normal cells. That room was where light was sucked up by the greedy vampire of darkness, where darkness could corrode one's exteriors and invade one's soul. He didn't eat for a month - he was sure about that because every day, some researchers would come to him, give him some water and, most importantly, check if he had made another escape. On the thirty-first day, he got some rice and old, tiny vegetables and was starved for another twenty days before he was finally released and given a proper meal.

The feeling of starvation was absolute, and it had been continually imposed on him as a punishment. It was the only thing which kept him obedient; if he did anything that could make them suspect the least bit, they would starve him to force him to listen to their commands.

He would long have escaped this hell of a life if he wasn't starved.

Just as his stomach made another angry complaint, footsteps approached the cell from the infinitely far away opposite end of the corridor. A man in a big white coat - a researcher, he believed - and two heavily-armed guardsmen emerged out of the gloomy shade and stopped in front of the bars. The researcher-like man opened the door, and the boy promptly got up. He walked into the corridor's endless darkness, which turned and snaked along the walls on both sides, while the three adults followed him.

It was time for him to swallow some foul, disgusting food again. Physically together with him were the three men, who kept a close watch on him.

Then, it was time for his raison de'tre, i.e. providing valuable experimental data, to be testified to.

'Test subject 1046 and 2948, move to your locations now!'

That was the sound of the researcher from just now. He was now in the elevated observatory room together with his team. Both '1046' and '2948' walked towards and stopped at the crosses marked on the cement floor. 1046 was the boy's code number, while 2948 belonged to another person. Although this might sound weird to outsiders, it actually had become a part of the boy's routine to enter this room and do bloody experiments. His fellow inmates were dreaded by it, just like no. 2948 right opposite him who was trembling like a lone leaf on a branch in a hurricane strike, but he had the power which ensured that he would never have a reason to be scared.

In fact, he enjoyed it. Call it distorted interests or otherwise, the nine-year-old enjoyed the splash of blood from a human body.

It's the perversion of a human being and a human character. They are darkness's artefact.

'The time now is 13:50. Start!'

2948 launched the first strike. He was a wind esper, and he manipulated some wind currents to hit him. But this did no damage. Easily, the boy reflected the wind to strike back at 2948, who travelled mid-air and banged onto the cement wall. The boy started walking with a stately gait. He didn't even care. 2948 tried once more, and the same thing happened. The boy had now gotten very close to 2948, who finally gave up and began running away. However, the boy gave him no chance as he dashed and caught 2948 by his neck. He rose his fist and landed hit after hit on his face, more and more forcefully. The corner of 2948's mouth began cracking, and his cheekbones sunk to cause the whole face to look like Picasso's artwork. 2948 begged him, but his voice vibrated bleakly in the air and received no response.

'No wonder he is called the monster among monsters! Wonderful! He is surely the best one in the Institute!' The researcher nodded as he commented in excitement, pleased at the live murder show.

2948 breathed no more air into his lung, and the boy was finally satisfied and released 2948. The boy killed another person; it was his routine.

He walked back to his cell after the experiment completed; he re-entered the place without light.

Sometimes, he dreamt of returning to the world that he used to reside in: a world where others and he could get along, where there was no fighting, where he needed not kill anyone. But every time he woke up from that kind of dream to face the reality, he would laugh at himself. His reality was that of a fiend who is locked up in a dark, brutal and wicked place killing innocent people every day. There is no chance that this evil world will return to the fantastic utopia of the by-gone age and the forgotten life.

In no way would this world deserve to be protected. He should just kill his way out. He could only kill.

He might become a better person when he finally would leave the Institute. But that was a big 'might'.

Darkness occupied him, and there would be nothing left in him but dark deeds.

The day came when the boy got out of the Institute. Some police officers dismantled it.

He was enrolled in a school. As he had left no records whatsoever in the city, he was given a name by the teachers.

"Accelerator."

He dropped out of that school soon after. Everybody in the school, including the teachers, were scared and kept at least 5 metres of physical distance from him, as if he was the carrier of a certain plague. He initially tried to make friends, but he soon realised that nothing could bring him back to normal social life. In people's view, he is a madman and a demon who kills people after killing people, and their fear and sense of alienation ensured that they will never ever interact wth Accelerator normally.

In the end, he gave up. He conceded that he was capable of nothing but killing. In his mind, no matter what he did and ever would do, people would always treat him like a killing machine and a maniac.

Therefore, he should just as well be one. The world would be his enemy.

Darkness propelled him out of the human society and into the uncharted territory of absolute evil.

A sturdy man in black overalls and a pair of sunglasses approached Accelerator after he gracefully slaughtered some gangsters who dared to challenge him. By that time, he was the widely recognised no. 1 esper in Academy City, though there didn't lack people who were stupid enough not to believe in the common wisdom. Accelerator was initially uninterested in the man's invitation to participate in a plan to strengthen Accelerator because he already was the strongest esper, but one thing the man mentioned stirred butterflies in Accelerator's heart.

'Won't things become very different for you if you have absolute power?'

Accelerator had already returned home. He felt uneasy as he tossed his cans of coffee onto the table and flung himself onto his bed. He stretched his right arm and stared at his palm.

If he had absolute power, and if he owned the complete claim to power, would people challenge him ever again? If he was the indisputable one person in charge of all reason, power and strength, wouldn't he become much more respected? If no one would challenge him and everyone would respect him, wouldn't they accept him too?

Wouldn't Accelerator be able to return to utopia? Wouldn't Accelerator re-integrate into the society, from which he had been excluded for too long?

He would even have some friends again...

Accelerator clenched his right hand into a fist.

'After seeing this, would you still proceed with the plan?'

Looking at the rows of incubation tanks of Railgun's clones, Accelerator smirked.

Even if he would need to defy international laws to kill clones and even if he would need to kill 20,000 of them, Accelerator would do it. Even if he would destroy the world, he would still seek absolute power.

He needed it so that no one would die again. He actually didn't want to kill anyone if he didn't need to.

So, why not find a way which would ensure that no one would fight him ever again?

By now, he had killed 10031 of them. He firmly believed that one day, when he would have finished all 20,000 of the Sisters, he would finally be able to return to the world, live among men and co-exist with them peacefully. No one would challenge him because of his level 6 status, and he finally would not need to kill anybody anymore.

Darkness will end when he becomes darkness itself. He had firmly believed in that.

Up to today.

Accelerator shivered as he ended his recollection. For the first time, he felt that something has reached the innermost part of his heart.

For once, he must confront his feelings; he must question his motivations.

He looked down again, and the Judgement girl was still convulsing from the injuries that her body had yet to recover from. He squatted and, to his surprise, met the girl's reddish-violet eyes, which just weakly opened. Staring into those coloured irises, Accelerator spoke first.

'Why don't you tell me, Judgement girl, why must I stop killing the sisters?' For the first time, Accelerator's voice sounded sincere.

'Because... simply because... you are killing people... that's the single... reason to stop...' Kuroko's lips barely moved, as she sent, with difficulty, faint sounds out of her coarse voicebox.

Accelerator startled for one second. 'But by doing so, I will attain absolute power whereby I won't need to fight and kill anyone anymore. Clones strictly aren't humans, so if killing clones can prevent real humans from being killed by me, it is worth it, isn't it?'

'That... that is wrong... you do not need to... kill anyone in the first place...' Kuroko intoned to try to sound more serious and confident, though she knew that she was speaking to someone who could kill her any moment now.

'I'm someone incapable of doing anything besides killing.' Accelerator lowered his head, 'Whenever people challenge me, I cannot resist the temptation to break them and tear them apart. If I want to not kill anyone anymore, I must ensure that no one will want to fight me, ever. Therefore, above anything else, I must become a level 6.'

Kuroko tried to raise her head to look into Accelerator's blood-red eyes. 'But why don't you... try? Why don't you try... to live peacefully with everyone else? I believe... that you can do it if you try... You definitely can do it without killing anyone... You are not that evil a person... as you might think you are...'

Accelerator froze at those words. A few seconds later, he suddenly stood up and burst into shouting.

'SAYING ALL THOSE BULLSHIT, BUT WHAT DO YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT ME! ME? SOMEONE WHO CAN DO NOTHING BUT KILL?'

Accelerator kicked Kuroko into the air and grabbed her by her clothes. He shook her, beat her and sometimes did both at the same time. Regardless, he continued to roar, almost straight into Kuroko's ears.

'I CANNOT DO ANYTHING! IF I WANT TO PROTECT OTHERS, I HAVE TO GET ABSOLUTE POWER FOR ABSOLUTE DETERRENCE! THAT'S HOW IT WILL BE! I CAN ONLY DO THAT! ...'

After venting his anger for three straight minutes, he threw Kuroko, who had fallen into complete silence, onto the ground. She was literally covered in blood. Looking at her, Accelerator laughed maniacally.

'Hehe... Saying all those things that I cannot do anyway... I cannot live peacefully with others unless I am a level 6... So you really want to stop me from becoming one, huh? I tell you, you won't. You will never stop me, and I will kill all the remaining 9969 sisters and attain absolute power. You are not stopping me... Since you dared to make me lose my cool, I will kill you right now, poor middle-schooler!'

'I won't... let you.'

'Huh?'

Touma was awake, and he stood up. That was an unexpected move, for Accelerator thought he was dead. As Touma began walking forward, Accelerator stepped behind almost out of instinct, but he quickly steadied himself and returned to a forward-leaning pose.

Despite his real fear of the right hand of this guy, Accelerator knew very well what he needed to do. He would stop anyone who dared to stop him from achieving his goals.

His mouth curled into a smirk.

'Isn't it amazing, huh, that you could still stand up when you're injured like that?'

Touma continued to walk with his slow steps.

'You're really... fucking amazing!'

As Accelerator howled up at the night sky, he ran forward clenching his fists, aiming to crush Touma. As he kicked the ground, he did the same alteration of the vectors of the force of his foot as before so that he flew forward like a bullet. However, Touma was thankful. If his opponent was coming for him, he didn't have to walk any further. With Touma's battered body, he might collapse even before making it to Accelerator.

Touma had no power. At that instance, he did not even have the slightest bit of strength left to walk on his own two feet, to form words with his own tongue or to think with his own mind. But even so, he clenched his right fist and looked up. Accelerator had almost reached him, with the fingertips of his right hand of suffering and left hand of poison centimetres away from Touma's face. Both hands could kill with just a touch.

For an instant, time stopped. Touma mustered up every last ounce of strength remaining in his body and sank down as if he were swinging his head down. The right hand of suffering passed above his head fruitlessly, and the left hand of poison was knocked aside by Kamijou's right hand.

'Grit your teeth, strongest-weakest...' Touma said to Accelerator, whose heart froze at having his doubly surefire attack suppressed.

Touma gave a ferocious, beast-like smile while they were at such extremely close range that they were almost touching.

'My weakest-strongest might resound a little!'

An instant later, Touma's right fist ploughed into Accelerator's face.

His slender white body was forcefully knocked to the gravel-covered ground, where he rolled around with his arms and legs roughly strewing about.

Touma collapsed.

A few minutes later, Accelerator got up with a dizzy mind and a painful body. He looked around at the three people - two middle-schooler and one from high school - who were lying on the ground motionless.

Accelerator heard faint running footsteps, which rapidly approached where he was. Some other people were coming here. They may be Judgement, they may be Anti-Skill, but they definitely knew what was going on. For one second, he considered helping them get the three people to hospital, but he soon realised the stupidity in that. They surely knew that he was the killer and the sadist who had inflicted all those injuries, so things would only become more complicated if they would see him. The three would be better saved if he would leave them alone.

He knew he had to leave.

He was defeated. He was weaker than a level zero.

He was wrong. Absolute Power will never be the solution to his problems.

He had to admit defeat, for his way was a lost cause.

The experiment was over. Accelerator would cease seeking absolute power.

Thou the evilest demon, give me back my life as it used to be!

Thou the fiercest monster, return me the chance to give it a shot!

Thou the sincerest creature, grant me the opening to a new world!

Thou the ablest spirit, offer me the strength to face myself again!

A few minutes ago.

'Konori-sempai, go that way for the train switchyard. Go faster! We are too slow now!'

Uiharu anxiously directed Konori, who was driving a Judgement truck towards the place that Uiharu had made a point to reach in one nanosecond. Accompanying them were two other Judgement members from the 185th branch, also in the 7th district.

'I know where to go, Uiharu. And I'm already driving very fast. If I go even faster, I will breach the 120 km/h (around 43.5 miles/h) speech limit! If the higher-ups learn that we have broken traffic regulations on top of carrying out this task without their approval, we may really all get into deep trouble. It is risky enough that we have acted on our own. Do you want your sempai to go to jail so much? I didn't know that flower bosoms are so evil.'

Konori's eyes did not for one second leave the road in front of her, and her hands held on firmly to the steering wheel while teasing Uiharu.

'That's not what I mean! Shirai-san, Misaka-san and the clones may be in mortal danger right now!'

'Of course I understand that. Rest assured, for your sempai would do everything she can!'

They reached the place minutes after. Uiharu jumped down the truck and dashed in, followed by Konori and the two guys, who apparently were not as agile on those rocks as the tiny Kazari. They were confronted by a human. She had brown hair, she was in Tokiwadai's uniform, and she was noticeably injured. Her body swayed from side to side as she stumbled towards the four Judgement's.

'Is that Misaka-san?' Konori asked Uiharu, who was just ahead of her.

'No... See that green pair of spectacles? I think that is the clone. The one I saw on the security camera also had that on her head.'

The four quickly ran towards the clone.

'Misaka clone, are you ok?' Konori went ahead and grabbed 10032 with her left arm.

'I'm fine, but please help them, pleads Misaka 10032 as she regrets about her inability to be of any use.'

'Leave it to us. Let's go, people! Misaka clone, please lead us there.'

...

'Ah...'

Uiharu saw the three people, and her mouth opened agape. It released some dragged-out sound made by her voice box, signalling cognitive confusion.

'What are you waiting for, Uiharu? Bring them onto the truck and get them to the hospital now!'

Konori was as shocked as Uiharu and the two guys by the scene, but she was calm enough to instruct the others to do the only appropriate thing at the moment.