"I want to read more"

"Do more and i prefer you do like this again"

"I do so hope you continue this story"

"Awesome!"

"Definitely a continue"

"keep it going please"

You guys are great! After just a few days, I get a bunch of reviews, so now I feel obligated to write more. Punks.

I just recently got caught up in the Railgun manga (are they trying to make my head explode?!), which prompted me to look at my randomly bookmarked Railgun stories (Cun, you're crazy, but the good kind) which led me to read "Big Sister's Responsibility" by GreatSnapper, which inspired me to write this. I thought for sure someone had done this before, but when I looked on FF, the Railgun and Index stories went into the same slot, and there were less than 500 of them!

Well, while I'm trying to think of just what I'm going to do next for my main story, I might as well whip up another chapter.

I must confess something: I have read both mangas and watched the Railgun anime (I can only take so much of Touma punching people in the face with his "fist o' goodness", so I haven't bothered with the Index series…though I really should), but have not read the light novels—yet. To be fair, I didn't know they existed until a few weeks ago. That said, I won't get into characters that play a major role there unless I: 1) read the novels and 2) am interested in the character.

I don't know how well this will work, but I'm going to do one-shots of main characters to define their place in this world, and then write linking chapters including multiple characters; with any luck, I'll have rudimentary plot line by then.

Chapter 2

Shadows Searching in the Night

["The most efficient accident, in simple assassination, is a fall of 75 feet or more onto a hard surface."]

If Academy City's level fives were akin to armies, then the level fours were like Special Forces squads. However, unlike the level fives who were all equally powerful (give or take), less than a third of all level fours were a significant force on their own. This was due to a mixture of skill, the usefulness of the ability, and the Ability User's conviction of Personal Reality.

["Murder is not morally justifiable."]

A small figure wearing a balaclava crouched against the lip of a tall building; peering across the gap, the darkly clad individual studied a particular lighted office about 40 floors up. Taking a deep breath, the short, androgynous figure readied their mind for their next move before soundlessly disappearing into the night.

["Assassination of persons responsible for atrocities or reprisals may be regarded as just punishment."]

Robert Ferdinand Johnson III—Rob to his friends—sat back in his leather chair, enjoying a glass of scotch. He was congratulating himself over a job he had recently completed, one that would net him a ridiculously large payoff.

For the past twenty years, Rob had been involved in child laundering rings, and had been in charge of his own for fifteen. His was no ordinary trafficking operation—he catered to more…refined tastes. He would choose only high-quality children, those who came from "good stock" as he liked to say. While adopting from Africa was all well and good, people who were dropping several grand on a child didn't mind paying a bit extra for superior goods. The parents of such children were often at a high pay grade; though they were presented as being deceased, this was, unfortunately, not always the case. In this way, the career criminal had made a small fortune, building up quite a nice financial portfolio worth upward of six figures.

Like many ambitious individuals, however, avarice was one of his major drives. Apparently, a few hundred thousand Euros was not enough to satisfy him. To that end, he had enacted an audacious plan; kidnapping an Academy City Ability User. It was difficult—that he had to admit—but he had multiple factors working in his favor: a child had ventured outside the walls, a disgruntled employee got too drunk for his own good, and he had the incredible luck of having operatives in Japan. They had been on vacation, but when he had told them of the reward, they had dropped everything and made it to the intercept point in record time. Smuggling the child out of the country was—comparatively speaking—easy.

Rob got out of his chair and stood facing the grand view of the city and lakeside his penthouse offered. He took a sip of his scotch as he remembered how easy it was to find a buyer; practically child's play, actually—he smiled at the inadvertent pun—as they were lining up at the door for a chance to study the infamous Ability Users that could tilt the balance of the world. After an intense four-day round of bidding, a large organization finally won, and he had transferred the "subject" into their hands just a few hours ago. He said "subject" because that was what the child was now. He didn't fool himself—that kid was going to be poked and prodded and ripped down to their basest elements until the buyer found what they were looking for. When he was thinking this operation through, he had sighed heavily, and an uneasy feeling had pervaded his stomach for a minute, but that was it; having a conscience didn't pay well, and for EUR 10 million per kilogram, the child was literally worth more than fifty times their weight in gold.

"Robert Johnson." A voice shattered the silence of the room, the hard edge of it making him freeze for a second before he turned around. In front of him stood a small, black-clad—and most importantly, weaponless—individual. He was about to ask their business when they continued.

["Hereafter, assassinations in which the subject is unaware will be termed 'simple'"]

"You have incurred the wrath of Judgment. I assume I do not need to explain your crime."

The fact that someone had managed to get into his room without his knowledge didn't shake him, even the probability that they were masked and making threats was not a big deal—he had dealt with threats before—no, what sent chills down his spine and his fight-or-flight response into overdrive was the slight accent he noticed as the intruder spoke. "No, it can't be…" He was sure he had covered all of his tracks, certain that his bases were covered, but there was no mistaking that clipped tone and penchant for unstressed syllables he knew from his dealings in Japan.

"The punishment for your sins…is death." The force behind the interloper's words left him no room for negotiation, and he threw his glass at his assailant, lunging for his gun…only to find his way blocked by the sudden appearance of his attacker. The assassin placed a hand on his chest, and he had time to look into their eyes—a deep well of merciless rage, conviction, and...sadness?—before he suddenly found himself on the other side of the window, the gravity pulling him pitilessly towards the unyielding pavement below. He had no time for any last thoughts as his entire being was consumed by utter terror for the painstakingly long six seconds he had left, his body making a horrible crunch as it smashed into the ground.

The shadowy figure above glanced at the tumbler—still an eighth full—in their hand, placed it neatly on the desk, and disappeared.

["But assassination can seldom be employed with a clear conscience. Persons who are morally squeamish should not attempt it."]

Academy City, two days ago:

Nothing good ever came of it when the ACME Judgment Division was called in, and this time proved to be no different. To tell the truth, the "Judgment Division" was just a group of Specialists—chosen for their ability to be covert—that would be brought together every so often to deal with problems that were…complicated, politically speaking. When there were no pressing circumstances, they acted in their normal role. Shirai Kuroko was one of these, a level four teleporter with a strong sense of duty. She sat in a small conference room along with three others whose names she did not know—as per an unspoken agreement. Even the handler referred to them with codenames.

["In safe assassinations, the assassin needs the usual qualities of a clandestine agent. He should be determined, courageous, intelligent, resourceful, and physically active."]

"We have an assignment for you." Their handler didn't bother with pleasantries as he addressed them. "A child Ability User under our care has been kidnapped. Using various methods, we have tracked down the culprits responsible and the whereabouts of the child.

He took out two small folders—everything was on paper so there was no electronic footprint—and pushed one across the table. "Juggernaut, take Reach and Hindsight and go rescue the girl." The brown-haired girl in the sleeveless orange hoodie flipped the folder open—Kuroko caught a glance of a young girl's smiling face—before nodding and getting up to leave. "As for you, Wraith," Kuroko looked over at the handler as he slid the other folder across to her, "the culprit behind this attack is a well-respected citizen of an ally country. Perhaps he thinks he can escape judgment—show him just how wrong he is." Kuroko opened her folder and found a single piece of paper. On it was a photo ID, an address, and the judgment: termination.

Popping into her room and grabbing her gear, she made it over to the aeronautical wing and found a jet waiting for her. Hopping in, she taxied out of the small hangar before blasting off into the pre-dawn light.

["If special equipment is to be used, such as firearms or drugs, it is clear that he must have outstanding skill with such equipment."]

She remembered flight-testing this one, a speed demon that could get mach 8. Her skill in piloting aircraft was a byproduct of her ability, which was perfect for this type of thing. If the aircraft were to crash, she could safely teleport away—her teleportation even let her disregard the conservation of momentum, allowing her to get out of the aircraft without being ripped to shreds by the wind speed. She may have been very by the book, but she had a need for speed that was as natural to her as advanced quantum theory.

In less than an hour, she had arrived at her destination. Landing wasn't a problem, as the vehicle was constructed to touch down vertically if necessary. She made her way across town, marked her target, and teleported into his office.

"Robert Johnson." She smirked as he started, then turned around to face her, a look of trepidation on his face—though he covered it up quickly.

"You have incurred the wrath of Judgment. I assume I do not need to explain your crime." Kuroko watched as the man stared at her for a moment before his eyes widened in fear, his mouth hanging open in shock. She thought of the girl he had taken, the one who would have been dissected like an animal if The City hadn't found her.

"The punishment for your sins…is death." He threw his glass at her—she caught it easily, using a finger to teleport the contents back inside the container—and lunged for his desk. She teleported right in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, seeing the horror in his eyes, the desperate need to live—and nudged him with her mind, watching as he appeared outside the window and plummeted downwards, out of sight. She stared at the alcohol in her hand for a moment, her eyes unfocused and blank. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she concentrated for half a second and teleported away, leaving behind nothing but a small note—her personal touch:

Children are the future; mess with them, and you won't have one.

[End Chapter]

Yeah, I know this was a bit short, but I'll get more into this later. I don't know about that note at the end, but I had to write something. I hope Kuroko wasn't too OOC (that's "out of character" to you new folks). Bonus points to those who get the title chapter (and a smack upside the head if you google it).

I'm sure most of you knew the identity of the "masked intruder" by the second paragraph, but it at least seemed somewhat mysterious, right? The girl in the orange hoodie is that ITEM member (Saiai?) whose codename is, in my opinion, quite appropriate. The other two are just random Ability Users, because I couldn't think of anyone—maybe the AIM stalker girl, and someone with telekinesis? It doesn't really matter.

Next chapter will most likely be Shokuhou (Mental Out), just because she's probably going to be easy to write. However, this is not set in stone, so if you have someone you want to put in, just say so and I'll see what I can do, Michael Weston style XD. [Note: I am only starting to read the LN's now, so if you ask for someone from Vol. 20 or something, I can't promise anything.]

Review! If not for me, then for science!

Addendum:

The text in between the paragraphs is from the "CIA assassination handbook", declassified some decades ago and the subject of much debate. Interesting, huh? I would tell you more, but am a bit rushed atm and have to go.