NS1FLN1X-0.1.1C/2.10.5182

Mister Winning Personality moved on from the trivial matter of magicians fighting in the street to something more important, notably the economy and public health, and after a minute of talking about the "quarantine measures" he shuts up through the power of the mute button. By now I've thrown out the time travel theory for the possibility of not only a multiverse, but parallel worlds, parallel Earths, and even with the power of infinite parallel processing it just doesn't make sense. I crunched the numbers, based on my misadventures the chances of me slipping and falling through time and space to a planet kinda like Earth, back to mine and then another Earth should be next to impossible.

Someone should tell math that it fucked up.

Either way, at this point I need more information and knowing anything my best bet would be the Internet. But where to find a computer...

The audio cuts back in and I almost jump, gather my bearings. Kousuke's sat at the table watching that spider tank show while noodles abound the air. Oh yeah, Kousuke. He's bound to have a computer. Hell, he'd know what's up.

And before you say anything, no, I wasn't thinking of eating him. I got enough of that bullshit from Sir.

"Hey kid."

He turns, noodles hanging from his lips before sucking them in. "Finally, I thought you'd crashed or something." He gave his full attention to me, muting the show, dropping his fork and turning my way. "What do you need?"

"First things first," getting down to his level, "I need to use your computer."

I get a look like I'm selling him snake oil and a long, "uh?"

"Relax, I won't go snooping around your homework folder, I just need to look up a few things. A few things seem to have changed since I've been here and I'd like to get up to speed."

"Sure."

"And speaking of which: think you could help me with that." I nod at the TV, hoping he gets the memo.

"You mean 86?"

"No, that virus thing on the news." The Suit's databases only log general information on the coronavirus family alongside SARS, MAES et al. "People can't be going crazy over the common cold, so what is it, some kind of zombie or chronic-wasting-disease virus?"

"No, no, it's it's a respiratory virus."

That doesn't sound right. Quarantine measures for effectively a common cold? "That can't be everything."

"Oh it's not, it's novel, having recently evolved from bats and people with underlying health issues are most at risk."

"Right, that makes sense, it's still recent so everyone's still trying to get an idea."

"I wouldn't say it's recent, it's been around since 2020."

I give up. "You know what, I'll get a better idea reading about it," standing up, "so about that computer."

"Sure," following my lead, "but it's getting late. I wouldn't mind if you had a bath before me."

This kid almost received a knuckle sandwich for his last meal until I remembered those Yakuza earlier splattered a bit. Or a lot. I wasn't paying attention, but it'd be bad if I wind up smelling of blood everywhere either way. Of course, bathing is easier said than done in Japan, the bath itself is segregated by a utility room and the act is more an ascetic ritual but it weirdly works: the antechamber is separated yet adjacent by related function, allowing privacy without completely locking out all the utilities of the water closet, while using a bucket as a makeshift shower is efficient, though it doesn't hurt that I have friction wrapped around my finger. It smells more like swimming pool ceramic than mouldy towels, which is surprising for a student living alone.

It gets me the internet access I wanted, though, so I buckle down and by an hour's worth of reading in 10 minutes I've come to a conclusion, one so obvious my visor's pale in comparison. It's Earth, Roger, but not as I know it. Even discounting baby's first pandemic a whole year out from the Manhattan Invasion, the fact the ecological disposition isn't in a state that makes the Day After Tomorrow looks like a quaint kids' movie is enough of an indication either Hargreave, the Ceph or both aren't kicking, which either way is a horse off my chest since CELL or HR's other subsidiaries definitely won't be looking to skin my bony ass.

Yeah, lucky me. I guess it also means I don't have to worry about stepping on my own toes and vamoosing from time and space.

Thing is, Hargreave's absence seems to have rendered technology a few years behind schedule, Hell maybe even decades. Remember how I said it was weird they showed cell and not iBall footage? Sure, the cellular telephone wasn't completely phased out by the 2020s but it turns out egg-shaped holotanks were never invented in this world at all. Naturally I wondered what Steve Jobs was doing instead of pioneering consumer technology, but... well, I guess he couldn't on account of being dead. I guess he was on Hargreave's eternal life scheme too. The military hasn't fared much better, either, since Naval EML tech's a pipe dream and you can forget man-portable guns, while SCAR still only refers to FN's line of rifles. The only real achievement I could find on short notice was how the whole F-35 line finally made it to production, while back home we had to resort to outfitting the X-35 demonstrators because of constant delays so thank Ceiling Cat for small mercies. From what I can gather, the timelines diverged somewhere around 2007 and I'm stuck in the one with polished TwenCen tech.

Honestly, it's kinda creepy, since the only real difference I can find is that Hargreave and Rasch don't exist. Makes me wonder just how much of a hand that old geezer had in building my world.

I look to the kid. His hair's damp and dressed down in PJs, having given up patronising the evening's cartoons in favour of working from a textbook. I consider my options, weigh how useful it'll be to tell him the truth. On the one hand it'll be too much to explain, especially given how... well, you know, compared to when I was blasted to Remnant it's just harder to explain. But then I think, he's going to find out eventually, might as well do it now, so the laptop, a chunky thing at least half a century old in computer years shuts with a thunk.

Kousuke follows the noise. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk."

"I thought that was a given." He chuckles but sobers up when I don't reciprocate. "Talk about what?"

"I haven't been entirely honest with you."

His expression drops further, then ascends into confusion. "I don't understand, what have you been dishonest about?"

I sigh, or rather my suit simulates one, and think just keep it simple. "I'm not from this Earth."

"Oh I know."

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, I thought that was the case. The way you talked about things that haven't happened and didn't know about things that have been known worldwide poked holes in your astronaut alibi. So, what's it like?"

He was on the verge of crawling up my leg. "Calm down, I'm not going to give you my whole life story. There's a lot to get into even just skimming over it, so where do you want to start?"

"That suit seems important to you, how about you start with that?"

"Alright. It all starts in August of next year...

Morning came faster than I expected. I shouldn't have been surprised considering, after spilling the beans, I was up all-night borderline shitposting but these things just slip you by.

Oh, you know, the usual, obsessively punching in every conceivable search term trying to find anything on that cell footage only to come to the conclusion it never fucking existed.

Yes, I checked.

Of fucking course, I tried finding the original broadcast, you think I'm human?

No, it's as if it didn't even exist. No other outlet was talking about it when I know for a fact no one would shut up about this, even if they thought it was as credible as Satan's shoe size. After five hours I nearly chalked it up to misremembering until I remembered my mind's more reliable than an elephant guarding Fort Knox, so I went further with the autismo and eventually found a gathering discussing it. That is to say, nerds with a severe allergy to the sunlight but beggars can't be choosers so I dive right in and they have the jackpot. Not just the broadcast footage but higher resolutions, different angles, even different incidents. That's right, there's more, from some Robin Hood wannabe surfing a car to a green blur clashing with a scantily clad cat lady and a dude just spontaneously combusting. And on top of all of that, the nerds aren't so bad.

Then it 404's in real time. I swear, it feels like the Illuminati's trying to cover up when they shit the bed and knowing my luck I'm probably dealing with the Illuminati. But that doesn't make any sense, all the evidence contradicts the idea there's only one group at play and however many there are they're clearly unfriendly with each other. Even worse, I have no idea how these secret societies relate and I can't decide if a separatist schism would be better than red and blue butting heads, especially given how much reach they must have to erase a TV news report.

Actually, wasn't there a vidya game about that?

And then I considered something really crazy: if my being here is a part of it all, that makes Kousuke's assassination attempt not only premeditated but also a consequence of me. Meaning who the fuck anticipated me?

In the end I say fuck it and slam the laptop shut hard enough something snaps. Probably my sanity but Hell if I know.

And then there's a knock at the door. I look up, then to the corner of my vision where DESU shows one biological signature outside. Hard to gauge through a wall but I wasn't reading an intent to kill.

Still, it doesn't hurt to be careful, especially with a cold call at fucking 7:35, so I summoned Gunny as I-

The gun, of course I fucking named it.

Did you miss the part I spent a month around kids who name their weapons like pets?

Whatever, as I was saying, I threw up my hood and summoned Gunny as I unlocked the door, keeping it at gut level behind the door, opening it a little as I saw-

"Nakagawa!" The fatherly façade comes uncomfortably as I say, "good morning?"

She's dressed in that Catholic schoolgirl uniform from yesterday, a blue bag over her shoulder. "Good morning, Mister Tanegashima! Is Kousuke up, yet?" Trying to get a peek behind the door.

Shit, I forgot it's a school day. "No," kicking myself, "but it's a good thing, he didn't tell me you were coming. Why are you here?"

"To bring his breakfast," lifting a box in a tablecloth, comprised of carbohydrates, proteins with fatty acids and fermented alcohol, AKA rice, fish and sake. Fancy but ultimately harmless and explains why his organs haven't skipped town yet. "Can I come in."

And she does, shucking off her shoes and excusing her entry to no one in particular while I head into the moody living room to shake him awake. Biometrics readings spike to Mount Everest, a half scream slips from the kid and throws his arms about with all the efficacy of a deflating balloon. He calms down quickly enough when he recognises my form for dear old Alky and not the Grimm Reaper and moves to brushing the sand from his eyes.

"Alcatraz," speaking with all the energy of a smoker in a marathon, "what is it?"

"School," walking past him.

He winces at the struts of light suddenly taking up the space. "What?"

"Nakagawa brought breakfast." His heartrate kicks up some more speed after that, not least to mention the shots of serotonin, more than he'd get if he knew she'd be coming. "And you didn't tell me..."

"Because-

"...you didn't know." He hits me with a look. "Don't ask how I know. Where's your uniform?"

"The wardrobe." His shirt comes off as he continues, "but I don't understand, she hasn't had the time to do this since her family moved."

"Maybe," throwing him the uniform, "she's trying to get my approval to take your hand in marriage."

"No way definitely not," he says, doing his best impression of a tomato, "we're just friends."

Right, sure. "Anyway, is it really a good idea to say all this while she's," nodding at the door, "out there?"

His head shakes. "She scored 49 in English, she won't understand us."

Well that's comforting. Kousuke finally suits up completely into his dork uniform in time for breakfast with Nakagawa and I. I'll be honest, nothing really happens for the rest of the day so I'll give you the sparknotes version. The kids' school is nearly as old as Hargreave himself and half as ugly, in the shape of three bricks in a drunk's attempt to make a C, but it's got enough reputation I'd be proud if I actually was the kid's daddio. When he becomes one with the herd of marbles rolling into the building I wait and when SECOND doesn't twist my nuts I let out my breath. I still don't know how long the leash the Nanosuit has between us and I'd rather not find out. Heading inside, using a door no one else was, I nearly run over a teacher in the process. Kinda standoffish at first, not surprising considering my shady looks and stumbling over my own name, but after bluffing hard enough I convince him into an impromptu parent-teacher conference and why I can't just take off the hood or shoes. I had hoped to fish workable intel about Kousuke so I could figure out why I'm guarding some kid, but as much as I tried, after a quarter of an hour of talk all I knew was Kousuke's above average scores, aptitude in science, English and failing phys-ed.

Damn.

It's not as if he's going anywhere, though. Exchanging thanks and goodbyes, I head off and, sure no one's peeping, hit cloak to find a computer lab to kill time until the day clocks out or something interesting happens.

Miss Tsunoda observed the mirror one last time, ensuring no discrepancy or unevenness was in the foundation before heading to work. It was no way to spend a quickly slipping youth, in her regard, to stand behind a counter for hours at a time doing work customers easily could – and can, considering their recent investments - or endlessly sort trite and trivial wares, but in a world where time is money and money is life, she resigns herself to little choice. And sometimes, she tells me, there could be quite the catch.

Locking up and making way, descending the stairs with an unhurried haste, she quickly came face to face with the unusual: a man, dressed sharp in a suit like wood, and a woman, who's skin was so white Tsunoda had to look away, at unit 503's door. She stopped, watched them as the man knocked hard thrice, shrugged and spoke to his partner. Though she could hear every word of the exchange she understood none of it, guessing it was English as recollections of her high school lessons resurfaced, and realised neither of them were Japanese.

Still, she wondered for what purpose they were there. It's not every day one sees such well-dressed foreigners, much less in what is obviously not a very high-class area, and wasn't that little Kousuke's flat?

Only one way to find out, she decided and called out as the man knelt by the key hole, "excuse me, can I help you?"

Eyes land on her, quickly followed by a smile set into a neatly groomed beard. "Yes, thank you very much," came perfect Japanese as he straightened, "I'm Detective Inspector Cain and this is my partner Junior Detective Gauss. We would like to speak with Kousuke Tanegashima but he so far seems to be uncooperative. Perhaps you could draw him out?"

"Uhm, why do you want to talk with Mister Tanegashima?" Tsunoda didn't doubt their credentials, but something didn't sit right with her. "He hasn't done anything, has he?"

"Well, that depends entirely on what he has to tell us," Which she recoiled at until he continued, "but we would just like to ask him some questions about an incident he was witnessed near a few days ago, we hope he may have something to say about it."

"Oh, well, normally he's back from school by this time but sometimes he's with friends and comes back while I'm out, so there isn't much I can do. Other than recommend you try again later."

"Not entirely, you could recommend us to wait outside his door until he returns." He then turned to his partner by his elbow, giving him a foul look, and said, "but since we do have other pressing matters to attend to, we'll just be going now. Thank you and goodbye." The lift bell rings, the doors slide open and a passenger trades his place with Cain and Gauss, disappearing into his own flat. But Cain quickly sticks out to say, "also, invest in a carbon monoxide alarm," the doors beginning to close, "there has been an unusual frequency of gas leak explosions lately."

And with that, Tsunoda thought nothing more of it, until she ran into Kousuke and a strange, hooded man down the road.

Yeah, it was a real kicker hearing cops had knocked on my door. Would've been fine if they were just asking questions, but I'm sure they'd try to work a bridge in there somewhere.

Here's an idea, why don't you stick your impartial journalism up your ass? Say I'm racial profiling all you want, you can't weasel your way out of admitting something strange about non-Japanese sticking their fingers into this sushi roll, especially the day after the kid gets out of a stick up. What, are they going to ask, mister Kousuke, we heard you were nearby a crime scene, did you do it? No? That sounds like admission to me, we're taking you in, and then they take him behind the shed and finish the job?

Couldn't say, after the last night's crunch I had no way of knowing who they may've been until I had something more than the chewed bones of the bare minimum. I'm like a needle in a haystack lost in a coalmine, Roger, even all the bullshit squid magic lodged in my brain can't do shit if it has nothing to work with. I could make a wild guess, but my knee-jerk reaction is to blame the Illuminati and I haven't been seeing any triangles. Frankly, I'm just glad we managed to miss them, I'm still not sure how I would've dealt with them other than showing them the window.

What do you mean by that?

You know why.

You've been keeping tabs on this whole spat but you missed that?

Posterity. Right. Like there'll be anyone to appreciate my memoirs.

Fine. We were held up on the way back. Abe initially held us up, asking the kid if he'd like to stop by a bathhouse. Then he looked at me, probably for approval, maybe to ask if I wanted to join in whatever it is you do at a bathhouse but I'd never know since I said no. I'm not eager to go sightseeing yet and even if I knew what goes down then it wouldn't be a good idea showing off my perfect physique. Plus, I didn't want to spend too much time around the kids, the longer I'm around them the harder it is to justify why I wear the hood, don't eat, or Hell, keep my shoes on.

Tell me about it, of all things that could've been different on another planet, that wasn't on the bucket list.

You don't say.

Jesus, now looks who's racist.

Hey, I'm not the one who'll never forgive the Japanese.

Mukden? Seriously?

Shit, I-

Right, right, sorry. Where was I?

Anyway, we detoured on the way home for groceries. No more thrilling than a rock's opinion on C-SPAN but after the hooky two months I've had I could do with the mundanity. The corner store Kousuke chooses is what you'd expect, bright shine and cold plastic though it forgoes the dystopic drone of tinned pop music for a dinky beeping fashioned after a doorbell at the start. Cute. And I'm not exactly a raw fish kind of guy but some of the stuff here was making me drool, from sugar paste buns, chocolate coated cookie rods, five course lunch boxes and even a drink called Ocean Bomb. Funny, I was there when the Pentagon tried to drown the Ceph with an ocean bomb. Good times.

On the other hand, Kousuke seems to be trying to reach enlightenment with how little he's throwing into my basket. A few leaves, some fish and a rice pack that a hamster could live off for three days, maybe a week if he rations it. The suit says he's okay but as much as I trust it, I can't read his thoughts, so I go in.

"Kid," I say as we're browsing a winsome selection of sauces, "you sure you're eating enough?"

"Am I not?"

"You're on track to be a perfect Halloween decoration in nine months."

He throws in one of two soy sauce bottles. "Well, I think so, I'm not hungry after eating. Maybe Americans eat too much?"

"Hey, I'll have you know obesity is a time-honoured American tradition and I will not hear it slandered so easily."

He recoils. "Oh I'm sorry, I-

"I'm kidding. Jesus, and I thought the Germans lacked a sense of humour."

"Sorry."

"And stop saying sorry."

"Sor- I mean, okay?" His fluster drops to his collar as he continues, "anyway, that's everything, so-

"Gotcha, let's move." An awkward minute passed. "By the way, about last night."

"What about it?"

"You were going to tell me something."

"I was?"

"I asked you if you know anything about magic. It sounded like you do."

"Oh," he says in the stereotypical memory recall way, "right, that's nothing important."

"Really?"

"I was just going to say my uncle did slight of hand abroad, as I said it wasn't anything important."

That's a lie. It's a damn good one and he knows it but I'm the inhuman lie detector, it might as well be fishnets to me. The question is why? What's he got to hide? It's not exactly the right time to poke and prod but maybe I could squeeze something out if I choose the right dialogue option.

Yet when we're at the clerk too pained to do anything but smile I look up and everything stops. It's her, the magical maid from yesterday, right outside. It's weird as fuck she's just out and about when a day ago she was fighting in the street, so much so I don't even think about why the guy she's talking to just nods and walks away. I don't have any time to either, because her Spider-Sense triggers and for a heartbeat we stare down, not moving, I don't even take my eyes off her even when Kousuke calls out to me.

And she bolts. I drop the basket, nearly flatten a family of three and clear the dinky jingle onto the street. Instead of the pavement maid girl continues onto the road, playing real life frogger as she manages to miss every speeding two tons of death. Even though they stop because a nutjob jumped into the road the result is a pile up and even if I didn't have to deal with it maid girl is somehow still outpacing me by metres, just hopping the centre barrier now. Good thing none of that's a problem. Suit capacitors drain into my legs and I push off, first onto a dinky orange Toyota and then into a leap that would make any Olympian weak in the knees. By the time I land the score's evened out to a handful of steps in exchange for greater bodily harm, proven twice as cars near miss as I close in but that's the thing, I'll be safer the closer I get and do I get closer, close enough to put a hand on her shoulder.

In retrospect, I probably should've tackled her because she has a Hell of a throw. From winning to eating shit on the sidewalk in not even a second, peds shrieking witnessing the violence unfold before them. I force the roll a little further and use it to plant my feet, get up in one motion and make my sure my hood's secure until I see everyone else had somewhere to be, and get ready to throw down. All I wanted was to talk but I guess I'll have to force what I want.

Then her clothes light on fire, blue fire, and transmogrify into that getup from the news, black dress, gilded apron, billowy sleeves and fucking bunny ears.

No time to read what happened as she jumps right into the action, throwing out thrusts with a skinny sword. It's not enough to pierce the suit's dermis, probably, but I'm not taking chances and grab the blade by the tip and the base, slam my shoulder into her and wrench the sword away as she falls flat on her ass, showing off her pumpkin pants.

That was... easy, I think, too easy. I look at the sword, see if there's anything special about it, like a high frequency current or monomolecular edge, but come up empty and toss it, turn to maid girl to see her... trying puppy dog eyes?

"Please mister," she sniffs, "don't hurt me."

"Relax, I'll only do to you what you do to me."

She eases up. "Really?"

"Really," kneeling beside her. "I just have a few questions."

Bad move. The corner of my vision ignites red as the Threat Level goes through the roof and her face flips from damsel in distress to war criminal, before I even know how to react, she swings right at my head.

It looks like an ancient tome but it hits like a truck, enough to throw me, giving maid girl enough of an opening to recover her sword and skip down an alley, laughing all the way.

No lasting damage so I'm on her but as I turn the corner she's gone. It's not like there's anywhere to hide, scrolling through Visor, Nanovision, StarlAmp, even the Tracker module I see nothing, she's just gone.

None of this makes any sense. Out of all people she could've looked at she chose me and found me so reprehensible you'd think the Elephant Man was drop dead gorgeous. I admit I don't look inviting but that's not cause to take off for the proverbial hills, she had to know I was different and the fact she put up a fight proves that, the question is what, how and why? And since I'm asking so many questions, why was she here? The report placed her a few wards over and I know she could've walked but the odds of running into her so close to Kousuke's apartment are so slim it makes an anorexic downright gluttonous. She had to be looking for something and as much as I hate it, we had to be the target. No idea if it's for the Illuminati or Free Masons or whatever crackpot bogeyman the conspiracy nuts come up with but we're big game, and the illusion of another peaceful life has come to an end.

That's got to be a new record.

Without much hope I push SECOND for some wisdom, but surprisingly I'm not met with I don't know:

Hostile Designation: Unknown

Hostile Identity: Unknown

Hostile Origin: Unknown, Suspected 800 AD

Woah woah, SECOND, what the fuck? What the Hell do you mean Hostile?

Hostile Agent as Defined by Regulation According to

To?

Unknown, Processing Data Package

Right. What about that 800 AD?

Suspected Date of Hostile Origin

You know that's 1000 years ago.

Affirmative

So, what gives?

Reiterate Query

Anyone born in 800 would've been dead for the last 1000 years, so how is it the "hostile" looks like she'd still be in high school?

Unknown, Processing Data Package

Oh for- how long is that going to take?

Anomalous Data Composition. Estimate Process Duration: 288 Hours

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

Kousuke meets me at the alley mouth, on the verge of just dropping dead. After a brief ode of groans and heaves he screams, "what are you doing?"

"Chasing a carrot on a stick."

"Wh- What?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you later, but I think we need move."

"Good, the shopping's waiting for-

"No, we need to move out of your apartment."

He looks at me as he finishes paying back his oxygen debt. "Why?"

"Security concerns. It doesn't have to be right now but I'd prefer to do it within the week and we'll pick a hotel so your studies aren-

"Alcatraz, hold on! Please, so much has happened in such a short time that I don't know what to think and I barely know you, I don't want to be pushed into something when I'm confused. Just tell me what's going on so I can trust you."

He makes a good point, so I give him a rough outline of events with the promise of more. He nods after a minute and a half.

"That is strange, but I don't think it's worth acting so drastically."

Oh, this kid. "Kousuke, I was a bodyguard for a corporate princess, I know what I'm talking about."

"Couldn't you be overreacting? It's strange she recognised you, but I don't think that's any indication we'll be attacked. We'll be fine."

It's situations like this I wish I could pinch the bridge of my nose. He's right, in a way, by being presumptuous I'm jumping the gun but he doesn't understand that in war you have to assume the worst if you're to survive. Sitting around continuing as normal is a sure-fire way to get steamrolled by the enemy.

But then again, what's the worry? He's got a dimension hopping cyborg from the future protecting him and as strong as maid girl was, she wasn't that tough. I even disarmed her on the spot, if everyone the Illuminati sends at us is that strong, we'll be just fine. Maybe I was overreacting. Even if, it pays not to rush into this. Who knows what's waiting to snap at our toenails.

"Fine. Let's go."

Next Time - Chapter 3: A Bag of Bones & the Fifth Element

Author's Note: Again, if you want the whole note, go the Wattpad version. All you really need to know is that this chapter used to be a horrendous combination with what is now Chapter 3 and significantly delayed my progress until I fixed it. Either way, hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was quite a fun one but Chapter 3 was even more so.