Beyond the transparent glass of a speeding train's windows, the Moon could be seen shimmering amidst Mitakihara's clouds, forever surrounded by the ring of debris which orbited its celestial body. The encircling fragments were considered by S.O.N.G. to be the first publicly-known outcome of the task force's operations. Having been created by the climactic battle against Finé - the Symphogear system's original creator - Lanfen deemed it to be the first sign of paranormal phenomena she ever witnessed with her own two eyes. The preceding ruination of Lydian Music Academy was practically considered an afterthought once the educational institute had been rebuilt entirely from the ground up.

After checking up on the time through a cursory glance at her silver pocket-watch, Lanfen slipped the item underneath her shirt, and brought her attention back to the train carriage she rode in. The Adaptor had made sure to switch out her combat uniform before she departed from the apartment complex on foot, allowing Lanfen to blend in with the handful of civilians she could see occupying the seats on both of her sides. The black-and-white scarf that was wrapped around Lanfen's neck never failed to keep her warm during the winter season. But in the current predicament she was in, Lanfen could not stop her leg from restlessly shaking while she sat with a pair of crossed arms.

Alerting S.O.N.G. of her situation was the first action Lanfen thought to accomplish after she had witnessed Lotte's message. Basic logic constituted nothing else. However, she could not risk the chance of possibly forcing Lotte's hands when it was clear to Lanfen that she had no advantageous cards to play. Regardless, Lotte's bold choice to directly contact her through Komichi's smartphone was an opportunity for Clan Hida to notice the first hints of suspicious activity. If the shinobi operatives were somehow blind to Lotte's actions, then the sudden communications silence from Lanfen's assigned bodyguard was their only remaining indicator for noticing a dubious situation.

Sweeping away these concerns for the meantime, Lanfen focused on what was physically in front of her, essentially preparing for any employed stratagem by the Illuminati Remnants.

Doing exactly what the enemy desired was reckless. It was stupid. It was short-sighted. But Lanfen was not going to leave anyone else's lives on the proverbial chopping block. Not again. Especially when it possibly meant coming face-to-face with the very person who had bestowed her with a Symphogear. Fastening several fingers around her metallic belt-buckle, Lanfen swept an investigative gaze from one end of the carriage to the other, eyeing practically every person in sight for anyone suspicious. At face value, nobody in the loaded train appeared wary in terms of body language. The carriage's passengers appeared to be the usual crowd of tired salarymen, families and chattering tourists.

But as Lanfen's pupils directed themselves to a teenager who was sitting beside her with a drawing-pad in their hands, Lanfen proceeded to catch a distinct, familiar shape which was being sketched out through the careful strokes of a stylus.

The Adaptor felt her sword-hand twitch the moment she recognized the drawing's lone subject: Unknown Enemy-01. Even if nobody had witnessed this particular foe since the global attack, Lanfen could never forget the shadowy, knight-like figure who had broadcasted a worldwide declaration throughout every public communications network. "Make peace with the coming end and prepare your armies, for the crusade against Humanity begins today," were its exact words. Much like the Distortions, its absence over the past weeks had largely caused it to fade from the public consciousness, leading to online rumors of an attempt between the nations to 'undermine' one another through a manufactured enemy.

Habitually clicking her tongue underneath her breath, Lanfen tore her sights away from the sketch of the armoured being before she continued waiting for the train to arrive at her destination.

By the time she heard the overhead speakers finally announcing the Adaptor's desired stop, the fingers on Lanfen's sword-hand had turned red from how tightly they were gripping her rectangular belt-buckle. A sea of passengers flowed out of the carriage once the sliding doors opened up. Lanfen kept her incantation ready to be declared while she filed out of the transport alongside everyone else. As to be expected of a train station, everything quickly became a complete blur of crowds and bustling shops, reminding Lanfen of how easily the world always moved on even when faced with the paranormal. The cessation of a single woman's life was barely a spark in the so-called 'bigger picture'.

Lanfen could not have felt any more relieved once she escaped the suffocating hallways of a congested terminal. Underneath a ringed moon's direct luminescence, she navigated Mitakihara's roads by means of a smartphone's downloaded map, taking herself away from the city's busiest streets with each tentative footfall she made on the snow-laden concrete. Lanfen did not bother to count the steps she had made before the Adaptor's ears ceased to pick up the incessant revving of a dozen motor vehicles. Where Lanfen now treaded - few faces could be seen at this time - for the empty roads ahead only led to a locale that had been built in memoriam of a worldwide tragedy.

The Mitakihara Disaster Memorial.

The expansive monument was quiet enough for the Adaptor to perceive the faint sounds of traffic which originated from the bustling city in the distance. Having been built to accommodate a minimum of a thousand visitors at once, the winter breeze that blew through the open-air site was as thick as when Lanfen first arrived along with the rest of Symphogear Team-04. Countless marble plaques standing larger than the average person were situated around the wide perimeter, all while they carried the engraved names of those who had lost their lives to the global attack. It was the final resting place of Cynthia Jiang Kai-Ming. And right now, it was the perfect stage to set an Illuminati ambush.

As the Adaptor stepped into the memorial's vicinity, her eyes looked between the surrounding plaques of dark marble, quickly realizing how little cover there was within leaping distance. Lanfen's presence was practically announced by her crunching footfalls across the snow-covered ground. With one hand still holding tightly onto her belt-buckle, Lanfen drew in a practiced breath for her tensing body's sake before she placed herself underneath one of the monument's numerous lamp posts. It was difficult to tell if her shivering body was due in part to the winter breeze or the ethereal grasp of souls who had yet to pass on to the afterlife.

Lanfen wasted no time examining her shrouded surroundings for the slightest hints of movement.

Every action she took required pre-meditation. When the Adaptor made the decision to momentarily peek at her wrist device, Lanfen fought the urge to look at it for longer than a second. Such a brief window was all she needed to notice the projected notification of a malfunctioning communicator. It was just like the night before. The night in which Lotte murdered an old friend with a single gunshot. Beneath the nearest source of warm light, Lanfen gripped her scarf with one hand, and held onto its monochrome fabric with increasing intensity. Beyond the howling veil of Mitakihara's freezing winds, the slow click-clack of heels against concrete had now begun to resound from right behind the Symphogear-Wielder.

She was here.

Lanfen's gut feeling informed her just as much and the fingers on her dominant hand were now refusing to lighten their hold over her relic pendant's storage chamber.

While the echo of unsuppressed footsteps freely resonated across the memorial, a proverbial fire flickered behind Lanfen's eyes, causing her to slowly turn on one heel until she faced the only source of discrete noise within earshot.

Lanfen reflexively gritted her teeth the moment she focused on the sole person who was strolling right towards her.

Taking their time in the midst of a relaxed stride, the approaching individual's tall silhouette was immediately recognized underneath the dim moonlight. There was no way to misidentify them. The narrowed, golden eyes that were piercing right through the shadows were the exact same ones Lanfen had witnessed during the global attack. Accompanying those raptorial pupils was a grin of pure joy and unfaltering confidence. And as a gloved finger playfully fiddled with a strand of dark-blue hair, the surrounding lamp posts shone onto the diamond patterns on the figure's azure suit, forcing Lanfen to shift into a defensive stance in the face of someone who was anything but an ordinary human.

It was her. The murderer who had taken the lives of Komichi and eleven other women.

The one who had dared to hurt Aiko.

Merely glaring at the shape of their curvy smile alone stoked the proverbial fires within Lanfen. But the Adaptor knew she needed to restrain herself, lest she ended up blinding her own vision with pure rage once again. It's what Aiko herself would've wanted Lanfen to avoid.

Upon her arrival, the azure individual undid the silence purely through a string of honey-coated words. "You're giving quite the look to someone who once saved your life." The pale woman provided a dramatic flick of her wrist before she cocked her head to one side, causing her dark-blue hair to gently brush itself against her shoulders. "... Did you not enjoy the power I oh-so-graciously bestowed upon you, my dear?" she subsequently cooed in a sultry voice.

The knuckles on Lanfen's bare hands turned into a stressful white the very second she pulled them over to her sides and tightened them into fists. Making sure to maintain a constant observation on their shrouded surroundings, Lanfen drew in a practiced breath while the azure figure halted abruptly in her stride, leaving a considerable distance between herself and the awaiting Adaptor. Through one curt glance, Lanfen calculated that if either of them was to draw any weapon, such a wide space would provide an equal opportunity for the other to immediately react. Every strike Lanfen could presumably make from where she stood would be impossible to land with any meaningful impact.

Because of this, she immediately got straight-to-the-point. "I take it that you've come here to kill me?"

In response to Lanfen's verbal knives, Komichi's killer gave an obvious expression of faux shock. The ghostly woman then theatrically held a gloved hand over her chest and replied with a playful tone of defeat, "After everything I've done to try and arrange such a secretive meeting, is it truly so unbelievable that I desired a conversation with the very Valkyranger I created?" She released a brief chuckle and subsequently ran a gaze over the dozen plaques around them. "I was quite certain that our presence would not intrude too much on our little audience."

Lanfen forced her body to do nothing more than tense up. Restraining herself from calling out her holy chant right then and there practically required Lanfen to bite down on her chapped lips. Even as her aching sword-hand howled at Lanfen to take down Komichi's murderer for her sheer attitude in the middle of Kai's resting place, the Adaptor's observations could not detect a single opening in her target's subtle guard. And while Lanfen would sooner see this woman behind bars than have her talk for even a split-second longer, she had very much come all the way here for the slightest chance of finding answers. Visibly keeping her bare hands at her sides this time, Lanfen monitored her target for any sudden movements before stating two alliterative words.

"Lady Lotte." She placed the palm of one hand on her hip to give the forced impression of a relaxed stance. "That's your name, isn't it?"

Komichi's killer simply let out a skin-shivering giggle. Hovering one finger in front of her blue lips, the ghostly woman answered Lanfen's question with a pleased smile. "I suppose you may call me that? Tis a name I certainly prefer to utilize when the weight of social formalities begin to bore me." No matter how sweet Lotte made her words out to be, the only thing Lanfen could perceive her as right now was the blood-drenched murderer of innocents. "Now then," Lotte continued, clapping her gloved hands once underneath the shattered moon above, "it's time to reward my little Valkyrie for her impressive punctuality. State whatever you desire to know, and I shall gladly sate your curiosity."

Lanfen did not bother to hold back a loud scoff before taking a brief glance at the surrounding environment again. In the back of her mind, the Adaptor bore the persistent feeling that more than one pair of eyes currently had their sights on her right now. From where, she currently could not make out. But Lanfen could not entertain the idea that Lotte had come all this way by herself. "How can I be sure that you'll even tell the truth?" Lanfen soon spat back at her. "Especially after everything you've done to-"

"I never lie." Lotte's declaration was akin to a precise sword thrust. "I can never lie," she smoothly added, licking the top of her blue lips. "You have my word, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen."

To Lanfen's complete bewilderment, Lotte slowly stuck out the length of her tongue before holding its tip between two fingers, proudly showcasing a glowing, pulsing brand which took the ephemeral form of a cross-shaped mark on her pink muscles. The sight of such a brand only furrowed the Adaptor's brows. None of the information S.O.N.G. kept on the Illuminati had ever mentioned a concept even remotely similar to what Lanfen was seeing.

Still unconvinced by Lotte's cryptic words, Lanfen lifted one boot off the floor and carefully stepped out of a lamp post's light to accompany Lotte amidst the shadows. She then began circling around the azure figure, keeping her sights solely on Lotte while the pale woman slid her tongue back inside her mouth. Lotte was practically undressing Lanfen with obvious glee in those golden eyes. Eyes which the pacing Adaptor was only now beginning to compare with Aiko's own. "On the night we met... why did you save me...?" Lanfen raised her voice with each subsequent syllable.

The Adaptor monitored her target for even the slightest change in her stance, only to receive another light giggle between those lips.

"And why - of all people - was I chosen to be the bearer of the Sword of Damocles...?!"

Lotte's smile grew even wider.

It was completely obvious that Lotte was finding nothing but amusement from Lanfen's attempted interrogation. Combing a gloved hand through her azure hair, the pale woman suddenly stared directly at Lanfen, causing her to reflexively halt in her encirclement. "I chose you because I witnessed potential, my dear," Lotte cooed, prompting a narrowing glare from the Adaptor. "Had you been allowed to die on the night we crossed paths, the Sword of Damocles would not have belonged to you: the flower who required just the right push to bloom into its full potential. As such, the moment you began demonstrating just what the SG-r04 was truly capable of, everyone else became weeds for me to slowly trim away."

As Lotte made a sharp snipping motion using a pair of fingers, Lanfen surgically dissected every syllable within the woman's words, reading between the lines until the Adaptor slowly widened her eyes with realization.

Twelve young women. All dead. All except for herself.

"All the others..." A single conclusion pieced itself together within Lanfen's mind. "They were all-?"

"Absolutely correct," Lotte interjected with an applauding clap of her hands and a nod of the head. "Every. Last. One. All potential Wielders specifically for the SG-r04, Sword of Damocles. Identifying all thirteen of you was quite tedious, you know?" she playfully added before directing the tip of one index finger in the direction of Lanfen's buckle. "I certainly found it rather difficult compared to applying the finishing touches on your relic's prototype. Finé may have been quite the artisan, but no creator is immune to having their works eventually be recreated."

Everything Lotte casually proclaimed was halfway towards sounding like complete nonsense to the Adaptor's ears. Potential candidates for the Sword of Damocles, slain by the hands of someone who not only stole the SG-r04, but also asserted to have actually completed its framework. Even if Lanfen did not possess the same experience as the others when it came to fighting the Illuminati, there had to be a limit when it came down to the utter insanity of their scheming. Bringing herself back underneath the warm luminescence of a lamp post's light, Lanfen once again examined the perimeter for anyone other than themselves, and then restrained her aching sword-hand at her side.

"What exactly am I to you?!" Lanfen flung her words directly at the azure woman. Lotte simply donned another sly smile. "Answer me!"

Lotte wagged her finger before playfully sticking out the tip of her tongue. It was exactly the same way Komichi herself used to do. "Do you truly wish to know, my dear Valkyrie?" Her sweet, teasing words were answered when Lanfen grasped the metallic buckle where her relic was kept. The threat of a transformation chant's arrival now registering on Lotte's expression, the pale woman smacked her lips together before whispering a straightforward answer. "... You're a pawn, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen." The abrupt off-handedness of her words made the Adaptor flinch. "A living demonstration. A source of information. And most of all, a manufactured heroine."

While Lanfen felt her right hand beginning to twitch beyond her ability to control it, Lotte stroked her chin with one finger, radiating obvious joy with her provided answers.

"I needed your relic to be honed within the purifying fires of combat. This world desired one more protector," Lotte listed out one-by-one. "So, what better choice was there than to give it a brand-new Wielder for me to observe over time?"

Lanfen fastened her grip over her belt-buckle. The way Lotte immediately readjusted her stance indicated the preparation for a straightforward attack in place of further discussion. The Adaptor could not help but begin to wonder if this entire conversation was just posturing from the Lotte. Once again looking between the lines that were slithering out of Lotte's throat, Lanfen recalled every waking second she had spent fighting as one of S.O.N.G.'s Symphogear-Wielders, wondering just how much of it had been truly under the watch of those raptorial eyes. Regardless of whether or not Lotte's proclaimed inability to utter a lie was true, Lanfen could not brush aside the possibility of being the sole surviving Candidate for the Sword of Damocles.

"There's another reason you committed those murders, isn't there?" Lanfen's icy question matched the slow, descending snow. "You're still hiding something."

The small wink Lotte flung back at the Adaptor was the only response she cared to provide. It was also the lone justification Lanfen required to deploy her pendant from a belt buckle's storage chamber.

The Adaptor had indeed come here for answers. This entire time, she had managed to stay her sword-hand just to figure out why Ayano Komichi and so many others needed to die. Why so many women who were younger than her needed to be robbed of their futures. Even so, no matter how Lotte attempted to explain herself, the proverbial fires in Lanfen's pupils demanded nothing less than the immediate imprisonment of a bloodstained monster. A monster who needed to be taken down before anyone else could be hurt. Methods to omit information still existed even if Lotte had spoken nothing but outright truth in the past half-hour. And if the pale woman had no intention on providing any more direct answers, then Lanfen felt no hesitation about extracting whatever else she knew through a persuasive beatdown.

The following seconds passed by without any further verbal exchanges between the standing duo. While the Moon above continued shining its reflected light directly onto the wide-open monument, Lotte gazed up at the celestial body in the winter skies, and began lifting a gloved hand to seemingly reach out for its shattered form. "... There is only so much that words can do to truly answer your questions." Lotte subsequently directed her golden eyes to the tall plaques around the memorial. Plaques which contained the names of innocents who had all perished in one bloody evening. "Therefore..."

A familiar, cat-like grin flashed across Lotte's pale-white face.

"... Why don't I demonstrate just how oblivious all of you truly are?"


Four hours had elapsed by the time Commander Genjuuro was summoned to attend his second essential meeting of the day. Accompanied this time by Professor Elfnein, Genjuuro delegated his remaining paperwork over to Kagero before marching through the entrance of the submarine's uppermost module. Typically referred to as the docked vessel's communications deck, the meeting commenced once the arriving pair had seated themselves around a ring-shaped table, taking their usual stations inside a room that contained only the bare minimum. Audio and visual receivers positioned around the deck recorded every minute of the meeting for those who were currently unavailable, all while officials from Task Force Harmony and the Japanese Self-Defense Force partook in the ongoing conference call.

Unlike the projected video feeds of the attendees Genjuuro briefly addressed at the start of his report, the world council's Spokesperson was represented only through a holographic construct of the United Nations' symbol. Recent events gave the Commander little desire for this meeting to last any longer than it needed to be. And as Genjuuro's arms remained crossed over his chest, he verbally listed down his readied conclusions, the first of which involved how the Distortions rifts had been exclusively targeting locations within specific distances of the Adaptor Corp. The Commander's report was then finished off by going into the details surrounding his aide's latest discovery.

"-with the footage our teams uncovered, I can confirm that we have visual evidence of the culprit who is suspected to have initially stolen the SG-r04," Commander Genjuuro explained, finally confronting some of the mysteries regarding the Sword of Damocles. "Grandmaster Ogawa has already deployed his operatives across the country to track down this individual. Furthermore-" A momentary expression of discomfort was shared between him and the seated Professor at his side. "Furthermore, conducted testimonies from Cassandra Jiang Lanfen have verified our suspicions: This so-called 'Lady Lotte' appears to be the same individual who had handed the SG-r04 directly back into our hands."

A dispute surrounding the aforementioned relic sparked between the gathered participants almost instantaneously.

"Are you insinuating that our country is under the possible watch of an Illuminati spy?!"

"You seem awfully calm in spite of the situation's implications, Commander Kazanari."

"Have you already considered the risks you are currently taking?"

"How can we be certain that using the SG-r04 won't eventually backfire against us, Professor Elfnein?"

Genjuuro and Professor Elfnein would have been taken aback by the tidal wave of questions had they not foreseen the obvious results of announcing such information. To the Commander's relief, the 'heated discussion' in front of them was immediately shut down when the Spokesperson silenced the bickering attendees by wordlessly signaling for a shred of civility. Practically everyone in the meeting was evidently well aware that any direct demand from the Spokesperson of all people was not to be taken lightly.

"Rest assured that neither S.O.N.G. nor Clan Hida are alone in their investigative efforts, Commander Kazanari. Any assistance will be provided if it means apprehending the presumed head of the Illuminati Remnants," they affably stated without halting. "While I can understand the concerns anyone may have about the Illuminati's agenda regarding the SG-r04, our nations' defenses take priority first and foremost. Therefore, unless there are any dangers directly linked to the SG-r04's usage, S.O.N.G. is hereby obligated to resume on its current course." Nobody in the conference raised their voice to argue against them.

Not for the time being, at least.

"Professor Elfnein," the Spokesperson continued afterwards, "you may now present your findings, if you would be so kind."

With the metaphorical floor now handed over to the teenage scientist, Professor Elfnein rose up from her seat, unflinching in the face of a dozen officials while Commander Genjuuro sat back down on a chair which was almost too small for his physical size. Through a swift input into the table's holographic interface, the Professor proceeded to bring up various projected graphs at her sides. All of them contained prepared excerpts in regards to the Distortion menace. And in spite of Professor Elfnein's notable youth, there was not a single adult among the attendees who was paying the girl's presentation anything less than their full attention.

"Before I begin, I would like to first credit my research team for their assistance in my endeavours," Professor Elfnein said, gesturing over to a nearby hologram that contained a list of her fourteen colleagues. "With their contribution to my research, we have managed to arrive at a hypothesis which I shall now present you with." She inputted another command into the table's holographic UI and confirmed a prompt to access several of the task force's old video records. "Although the Distortion rifts have been observed to share similarities with the Treasury of Babylonia's door, I believe that the witnessed phenomena may not be portals into another realm like many had initially theorized."

Archived footage of Noise being summoned into existence during the Frontier Incident was pulled up on every one of the attendees' screens. The video demonstration lasted just long enough for the Professor to make a comparison with visual recordings of the Distortion rifts.

"Our current hypothesis is that the rifts may instead be conveyance points connecting chosen locations of our world to another."

"Such an idea has indeed been proposed before," the Spokesperson interjected. "Have you discovered any evidence to support these claims, Professor Elfnein?"

Even though Genjuuro personally found their comment to be unnecessary, Professor Elfnein responded to the Spokesperson with a polite nod before running her fingers across a holographic interface once again, bringing up additional scans for her to calmly reference. These images were similarly brought over to the conference attendees for their personal perusal. "The images you are now seeing pertain to a tome we had discovered at an Illuminati site approximately 19 hours ago. Our investigators theorize it to have been a personal belonging of the organization's previous leader, Adam Weishaupt, as it seems to contain information regarding Humanity's precursors. Beings who I shall refer to by the term 'Custodians'."

Commander Genjuuro subconsciously stroked his goatee in thought while he took a close look at the manifested scans just like everyone else in the meeting. 'Custodians'. S.O.N.G.'s only outright encounter with Humanity's ancient precursors thus far had been in the ephemeral form of Shem-Ha Mephorash. No other foe had come close to overpowering the Adaptor Corp as nearly as the Great Surgeon once did. And even then, the extensive battle against Shem-Ha was calculated to have occurred during a period of debilitated strength. Their narrow victory against a divine power would ironically also become the primary reason why the Sword of Damocles currently hung over S.O.N.G. at the world council's behest.

Another gesture from the Professor soon brought everyone's attention over to a particular image of Adam Weishaupt's tome. Though incomplete, every discovered fragment of it was completely translated by now, unlike the scanned tome the late Ayano Komichi had discovered at Site-4.

"From what I've managed to transcribe from Adam's writings, his musings appear to detail a labyrinthine world that lies just beyond our own. An extra-dimensional space comprised of complex tunnel networks which spread across the entire Milky Way galaxy." The rising skepticism across the attendees' faces understandably gave Professor Elfnein momentary pause. "... What little information we've found calls this dimension the 'Great River'," she hastily added, pressing the tips of her fingers against one another, "and if his words are to be believed... its routes could be utilized to achieve speeds faster than light. Therefore, this could mean that the Distortions-"

Alarm klaxons across the submarine began blaring their deafening howls before the Professor could even arrive at her conclusion.

Judging by the growing distress amongst the officials from Task Force Harmony and the Japanese Self-Defense force alike, the attendees were experiencing the exact same alerts on their respective ends of the conference call. The Spokesperson was the first to speak up in response to the rising situation. "We shall resume with the meeting once this matter has been dealt with," they curtly declared before outright withdrawing themselves from the ongoing meeting.

Once the holographic symbol of the United Nations had vanished from the Commander's sights, every one of the conference's participants disconnected from the conference, leaving Commander Genjuuro and Professor Elfnein to deal with the situation at hand. A sharp nod from Genjuuro prompted the Professor to replace her holographic graphs with a direct transmission to the bridge. The lines connected without any issue and the pair was immediately answered by a distressed Fujitaka on the other end of the audio transmission. Genjuuro made sure to give the bridge operator a full second to recollect himself before the Commander began barking out his usual orders.

"Fujitaka, give me a status report on the situation!"

"C-Commander, we're detecting a rift formation right above Mitakihara City!" Fujitaka exclaimed over the ship's roaring klaxons. "Energy signatures designate the arriving forces to be comprised of Category-1s! Estimating less than 5 minutes until the rift opens! Task Force Harmony response teams are already mobilizing, but we are unable to make contact with Lanfen! I repeat, we have lost all contact with Lanfen and her assigned security!"

Commander Genjuuro almost wanted to believe that he had misheard his trusted operator. For less than half a week, the Distortions rifts had been completely absent from their specialized sensors. But now, they were once again seeing the tell-tale signs of an incursion. Their sudden inability to contact Lanfen at such an inconvenient moment could not be coincidental. Every notable instance of disrupted communications thus far had been exclusive to operations under the responsibility of the SG-r04, the third of which having just occurred only the night before. Regardless of the reasoning behind their malfunctioning comms, Genjuuro went forward with a specific measure he always relied on in a situation akin to this.

"Keep an eye out for her Aufwachen Waveforms! No matter what sort of jamming we may be encountering, our sensors should be able to pinpoint Lanfen's coordinates using her Phonic Gain alone!" He shared a knowing look with a visibly-concerned Professor Elfnein at his side and subsequently added another order to his growing list of commands. "Tomosato, I need you to bring up Kagami on the line! The moment we find Lanfen, I want any available operatives she can muster to head directly towards her location!"


What little silence that still lingered within the memorial only ended up giving way to the cacophony of a distant thunderclap.

Recognizing this rumbling through instincts alone, Lanfen swung her eyes over to the skyscrapers of a faraway Mitakihara City, narrowing her pupils directly on the winter clouds above the metropolis. With her pendant clenched between the fingers of a twitching sword-hand, the Adaptor found herself faced with a sight she had not witnessed since the defeat of the Category-3 Distortions. A rift. A crack in reality. The signature gateway for the Distortion menace. Accompanied by the thunderous shattering of real-space, a titanic tear ripped throughout the distant city's skyline, allowing the first Distortions seen in days to fall upon its denizens. The descending bodies could not be described as anything less than a rain of armoured obsidian.

Instantly returning her gaze over to the only other person in the memorial, Lanfen was met with the simple fact that Lotte had yet to move a single inch from where she stood. While falling snow accumulated on the pale woman's shoulders, Lotte stroked her chin again, practically bathing in the growing comprehension which was writ upon Lanfen's face. No words were needed to be uttered. When the suited woman herself casted a brief glance towards the blinding amethyst in the distance, Lotte ran a hand through her azure hair before releasing the lightest of giggles. It was a sound that could barely be perceived underneath the cacophony of thunder. And yet, it was all it took to shatter what remained of an Adaptor's restraint.

Lanfen bolted towards Lotte without a second thought.

Her transformation chant carried zero grace when it subsequently leaped out of her.

No rhythm. No heroics.

It was little more than an exclamation of utter scorn towards one particular individual.

"Valtorah Damocles sen zizzl!"

Crimson lights enveloped Lanfen, leading to a body glove of black-and-white fibers to be woven around her physical form. Armoured boots locked themselves around Lanfen's legs as their soles cracked the snow-laden flooring beneath her. Dark gauntlets encased themselves around her swinging arms and a glimmering, three-point crown slammed onto Lanfen's head to dock itself with a pair of monochrome headphones. While the chess-piece pauldron on her right shoulder powered to life with a thrumming hum, a section of armour formed over her hip, containing the bladeless, golden hilt of an Armed Gear. In the split-second it took for Lanfen's Symphogear to completely manifest, Lotte merely shook her head with an unflinching smile.

Her expression would not shift in the slightest. Not even when a crowned warrior lunged towards Lotte with the full force of a superhuman charge.

Seizing the woman by the collar of her diamond-pattern suit, Lanfen tackled Lotte into one of the memorial's countless plaques, pinning her body directly against the cold, hard marble. To the Adaptor's growing frustration, Lotte brought up almost no resistance to Lanfen's outward contempt. She instead chose to release a hearty laugh which echoed throughout Lanfen's headphones. The tightening of a crowned warrior's iron grip did nothing to quiet Lotte down. Despite this, Lanfen refused to pry her gauntlet-covered arms from a murderer's collar, even if she was risking the slight possibility of accidentally snapping Lotte's bones through the unrestrained use of her magnified strength.

"Tell them to stand down," Lanfen demanded between gritted teeth. Although she had never once harmed another person with her Symphogear in good conscience, Lanfen was slowly starting to reconsider her initial stance.

The Adaptor's threat - in the end - drew absolutely no submission across Lotte's pale-white face. If anything, she was transparently pleased with the fury that was obviously brewing with Lanfen. "And what shall you do if I don't intend on listening, my dear?"

Loudly clicking her tongue at those honey-coated words, Lanfen released one of her armoured hands from Lotte's collar, and swung its fingertips over to the bladeless hilt on her hip armour.

But before her fingers could actually wrap themselves around a sword's golden handle, Lanfen froze.

The Adaptor went completely still by instinct and soundlessly drew in a sharp breath.

With the physical distance between them now finally shortened to a few meager centimeters between their faces, Lanfen could finally sense it.

A fire. A proverbial flame which burned within the pupils of Lotte's golden eyes. The same vengeful inferno that Lanfen herself carried.

Ever so slowly, Lotte licked the top of her blue lips before lifting a hand from her side, all so she could gently brush its five fingers against an Adaptor's fiber-covered abdomen. The sheer suddenness of the gesture was barely enough to snap Lanfen out of her hypnotic daze. "Why stop, my dear Valkyrie?" Lotte sweetly whispered, her words uninhibited even by a pair of protective headphones. Although the crowned warrior's fingers were but a touch away from grasping her Armed Gear, Lanfen could sense hesitation rising within every cell of her body. "I am responsible for it. All of it. The Distortions listen to my every command, so you can cease it all by simply taking my life. It's. That. Easy."

As Lotte continued to flood Lanfen's hearing with a string of honey-drenched words, the Adaptor fixated her sights purely on the pale woman's golden eyes, subconsciously taking in the blazing radiance of the proverbial fires within them. They were incomparable with anything Lanfen had ever felt within herself. Even when she had completely lost herself to the S.W.O.R.D.'s influence, Lanfen's own fires still remained a pathetic spark by comparison. And yet, none of Lotte's actions nor words betrayed the incandescent fury she harboured. Not in the slightest. Eventually, Lotte's own gaze wandered over to Lanfen's frozen sword-hand, prompting the woman to quietly sigh at its twitching, uncooperative muscles.

"... You can't do it, can you?" The saccharine sweetness on Lotte's tongue was now beginning to melt away. In its place, obvious disdain took over. "You've become vulnerable. Soft. Frail. All because I made the mistake of allowing you to be corrupted by your dear friends." While the hairs on the back of Lanfen's neck slowly stood upright at the sight of Lotte's swirling infernos, the Distortion rift in the distance radiated its amethyst glow completely impeded. "Tis indeed a shame," Lotte ruefully remarked, providing the Adaptor's abdomen one last, loving caress with her gloved fingers, "because you were so close to becoming more than what I needed."

An azure light flashed in the corner of Lanfen's eyes.

She drew her Armed Gear.

A blinding-hot pain rose across the crowned warrior's abdomen, forcing Lanfen to hold back a pained cry as a shower of sparks heralded an attack's connecting impact.

While Lanfen reeled backwards with one hand clutching onto her stomach, the Adaptor stepped out from the plaque's outstretched shadow before collapsing onto one knee, giving Lotte an opportunity to stand on her own two feet again. The moment Lanfen felt her Symphogear's internal systems suppress the pain in her abdomen through the initiation of its life support system, she tightened her grip around an Armed Gear's handle, springing forth its thick blade with a ringing schwing. The crowned warrior then directed a contemptuous glare towards Lotte, who preoccupied herself with fixing her suit's wrinkled collar as the phantasmal form of a sword rested its smoking blade on her shoulder.

Every inch of Lotte's translucent weapon matched the details in Aiko's submitted report. It was a two-handed sword outlined purely through a manifested cloak of mist. Its slender blade doubled the length of Lanfen's own Armed Gear and its silhouette made no attempt to hide either its cross-shaped guard or its circular pommel. The sight of such an armament only stoked the proverbial fires within Lanfen's pupils, for this was about to be her first battle against a flesh-and-blood opponent, not a mindless foe like the Distortions nor the Alca-Noise.

Briefly panning her gaze over to the distant Mitakihara City, the crowned warrior grimaced at the horde of Distortions which were descending from the glowing rift in its skyline. Lanfen could only wordlessly pray for the incursion to be contained by Captain Yaiba and Task Force Harmony's response teams. No matter how hungrily her sword-hand ached for the chance to cleave apart the arriving battle automata, Lanfen refused the simple idea of withdrawing from this place. She had Komichi's murderer, the apparent harbinger of the Distortions, and the SG-r04's main architect simultaneously standing out in the open. Lanfen could not afford to let Lotte get away again. And yet, before the Adaptor could even think about swinging her thirsting blade, one final question seemingly arose within the rear of Lanfen's mind.

She honestly did not even expect Lotte to continue entertaining her curiosity by this point.

"Why were the Distortions brought to our world...?" The desperation in Lanfen's throat was pathetic for even herself to hear. "Just what did they offer the Illuminati that so many people needed to-?

"I am no member of the Illuminati," Lotte retorted, her pale-white face visibly scrunched up with transparent disgust. It was the first evident crack in her façade of affability. "The Illuminati is simply a convenient tool. And if I am to make things clear, I had arranged this meeting as a personal break from their tiresome reliance on utmost secrecy." In one swift motion, Lotte plunged the tip of her misty blade into the ground, freeing her gloved hands up while Lanfen found herself unable to believe what she was even hearing. "... You're truly not as sharp as I initially took you for, aren't you?"

One-by-one, the tall sources of artificial light which stood around the wide-open monument died out, completely extinguished by means Lanfen could only assume were of the paranormal. After the final lamp post above the Adaptor had been deprived of its warm luminescence, the entire memorial was left to be shrouded in little more than dim moonlight. Lotte herself appeared almost at home underneath the cover of complete darkness. And as the pale woman took another momentary glance at the celestial body in the skies, Lotte produced a smile of genuine delight right before announcing one simple declaration.

"I was never a denizen of your world either. I come from a land that exists beyond these stars. Light-years from the very solar system where Shem-Ha Mephorash attempted to cast the die."

Her words hurled Lanfen's mind into a disoriented spiral in the blink of a golden eye.

The Great Surgeon, Shem-Ha Mephorash. The Custodian who had fallen to the hands of Gungnir half a decade ago.

A land beyond the stars.

There was almost no perceivable way for Lanfen to trust such a sudden statement from someone who appeared little different from any other human.

When Lotte motioned to take a single, pronounced step towards the faltering Adaptor, Lanfen reflexively shifted into a combat stance and brandished her Armed Gear. The attempt at intimidation drew only momentary amusement. With one open hand now held over her chest, Lotte closed her golden eyes shut before giving an exaggerated bow. "My full name is Lancelot du Lac, bearer of the title: King of Diamonds," she elegantly declared with a flourish of her wrist. "Rejoice... for I am the one who shall purge Terra Prime of its impurities and reclaim it in the name of my slumbering lord, Arthur Pendragon."

Without another uttered word, Lancelot pulled off the glove around her left hand, revealing a shimmering, diamond-shaped jewel that was fused into the back of its pale-white flesh. She then tossed aside the removed leather glove and drew the winter air into her blue lips. Lanfen's spine felt a chill running down its entire length upon hearing one word piercing its way through the evening breeze.

"Ascend."

A ring of azure fire erupted into existence at Lancelot's feet, turning every particle of white snow beneath her into hissing steam. While an ear-piercing wail emitted from the sapphire gem on the back of her left hand, a cloak of conflagration cascaded itself over Lancelot's standing form, blanketing her body until every semblance of it was wreathed in incinerating blue. The azure flames' sheer luster forced Lanfen to shield her eyes behind the width of an Armed Gear's blade as their bright-blue glow washed over the memorial like a newborn star's light.

Through the cessation of a sapphire gem's blaring lament, the inferno around Lancelot's form transfigured itself, recast into a suit of reflective ebony underneath a shattered moon's all-seeing gaze.

The blinding conflagration extinguished itself in a flash. Dancing fires turned into smoking metal and a perfect circle of snow-free concrete now laid underneath Lancelot. By the time Lanfen was able to set her eyes upon her opponent, darkness had returned to the Mitakihara Disaster Memorial. And yet, the armoured individual standing in front of her appeared completely unobscured by the monument's shadows. What used to be a gem on Lancelot's hand had now become a chest-mounted decoration five times its original size. The formal suit she wore was replaced with obsidian armour of a matching diamond motif. Encased around Lancelot's head was a pristine helmet with an integrated crown of its own. And in the middle of her helm's diamond-shaped visor, a crimson orb for an eye began to form, setting its glowing attention upon a monochrome Symphogear-Wielder.

At her side, Lancelot's translucent blade no longer obscured itself in a layer of smoke. The two-handed sword which had been planted into the flooring like a makeshift-gravestone now showed off its slender, silver blade and its accompanying golden cross-guard, reflecting the Moon's descending rays while its tip remained embedded in the steaming ground. When the weapon itself was finally wrenched out of the concrete to be caressed in Lancelot's gentle grip, swirling recognition fell upon Lanfen's mind, calling back to a memory that she had refused to completely bury.

The being in front of her was the very same one she had witnessed across multiple screens on the night of a worldwide tragedy.

The knight who had declared a 'crusade' on Humanity. The monster which S.O.N.G.'s records could only refer to by the name, "Unknown Enemy-01."

Lanfen sensed the proverbial fires in her own eyes beginning to flicker. But this time, the rising sparks within her pupils were given full permission to stoke the cinders, fueling the aching in her sword-hand as it gripped onto her Armed Gear. Any lingering hesitation the crowned warrior had been clinging onto by this point for Aiko's sake were fully released, for no part of Lanfen could conceive any good reason to spare the slightest bit of mercy towards the black knight before her. It would only be disrespectful towards every person who had suffered at the hands of the Distortion menace. Readying herself to end the entire conflict here and now, Lanfen heard a voice echoing out from the face-plate of a crowned helmet, their syllables now hidden beneath the cover of a distorted vocal filter.

"Your purpose on the board has come to its conclusion, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen," Lancelot solemnly declared, gently running two leather-covered fingers along the length of her sword's slender blade. "Do try and show me what this world's glorified living-weapons are truly capable of."

Gnashing her teeth at the derisive bite of Lancelot's remark, Lanfen ran a brief but focused stare over the surrounding marble plaques, essentially reminding herself of all the lives who were lost to the Distortions during one particular evening. Her sister, Cynthia Jiang Kai-Ming, was merely one listed name among dozens. A single life out of so many who were robbed of their happiness. All of them would be avenged if Lanfen accomplished one single task. All of them would be at peace if a crowned warrior succeeded in cutting down a knight of midnight black under the shadows of a memorial's tall plaques. Sensing the cinders in her eyes now directing herself towards one burning desire, Lanfen began preparations to take her first ever life, for there was nothing else for her to realistically carry out other than to kill Lancelot.

An ebony knight pounded one fist against her own chest-plate in an act of boisterous pride, seizing Lanfen's attention with the clanking of its dark metal.

Her narrowed eyes now locked with a knight's glowing orb, Lancelot's hands eagerly wrapped themselves around the handle of a slender, two-handed sword, silently conveying the wordless proposal of a one-on-one duel.

Music blared from the speakers of a black-and-white Symphogear without any reconsideration. Lanfen's armoured boots catapulted the Adaptor directly into a full-fledged assault. With her thirsting Armed Gear held tightly within her sword-hand, Lanfen threw herself at the awaiting knight, unable to perceive anything else but the obsidian monster who had ruined her entire life in one fell swoop. She gave in to the subconscious lyrics that streamed out of her lips and held nothing back when she swung the Sword of Damocles, for Lanfen carried no intentions of letting anyone except for herself walk away from this place with their head still sitting between their shoulders.


Outside the steel walls of med-bay, an alarm klaxon's howling could be faintly heard, providing the slightest ounce of noise for Aiko to register from within a dimly-lit room. With an overbed table currently placed over her lap, Aiko remained slumped over the deployed platform, her golden eyes blankly staring onto a provided tray of food. Medical wraps no longer covered the lying arms at her sides. Aiko's daily medicine laid disorganized atop the bedside drawer and the monochrome scarf she initially found comfort in now hung across the bed's metal railing. As the room's lone light source came from a lamp in the distant corner, Aiko's meal set turned colder and colder from each passing second.

The daze in the silver-haired woman's pupils finally waned when a small rumbling occurred within Aiko's stomach. Although only partially convinced that she desired anything after spending multiple hours staining her pillow with relentless teardrops, Aiko managed to grasp one of the tray's accompanying metal spoons before slowly scooping up a chunk of sustenance. The provided dish itself appeared unremarkable compared to the meals she had become accustomed to. Noticing it to be almost identical to the meal they had prepared when she first woke up in this underwater vessel, Aiko stared at the minced meat which sloshed around in her spoon, and subconsciously pursed her quivering lips together.

The longer her eyes laid their attention on the contents of her utensil, the sooner her mind began comparing it to gore-drenched roads she once marched upon, the ruptured concrete beneath her armoured boots completely-stained with all the lives she had butchered during the global attack.

Sensing a visceral reflex immediately rising from within her abdomen's depths, Aiko dropped her spoon onto the food tray and desperately clasped a pair of hands over her mouth.

The emergency gesture ended up doing nothing to hold back the expulsion of whatever that was already sitting inside her stomach.

While the lingering remnants of Aiko's appetite disappeared into the abyss, the silver-haired woman gave herself several seconds worth of laboured breaths, letting the pounding in her ribcage slow down until she could gaze upon on a tray's ruined contents.

What was initially a perfectly-good meal now reeked of the same bile which stained Aiko's trembling fingertips. But such a problem felt miniscule in the grand scheme of the world, because no matter how hard she attempted to deny it, Aiko now held a fragment of a single truth she had initially decided to never remember. A truth that could never be erased even if she sought to burn it from her mind.

The worldwide massacre of nearly fifty-thousand innocent souls over a single night turned out to be an act which Shinonome Aiko had personally contributed to. Cynthia Jiang Kai-Ming, younger sibling of Cassandra Jiang Lanfen - the very Symphogear-Wielder who would end up rescuing Aiko from certain death within a dark forest - had been denied a life beyond eighteen years all because of Aiko's own forgotten actions. The weight of such a loss fell upon her shoulders and hers alone. And in spite of Aiko's wordless pleas to undo it all, none of the extinguished lives she took would ever come back. She could only bathe in the realization of having deprived Lanfen of her remaining family before spending all this time trying to grasp onto her now-emptied hand.

Even if this hazy fragment was the lone piece of memory Aiko had managed to uncover thus far, it felt like the only confirmation she required to realize how S.O.N.G. had made a mistake when they willingly chose to bring her in. It was a decision borne of pure good-will, and yet, it only led to the organization's subsequent harbouring of an individual who directly participated in a global bloodbath. Aiko's initial desire to help defend this world like everyone else mattered none. The same could be said of her previous decision to move on without her past memories. And in the end, Aiko's longing to help Lanfen find closure felt like a foolish wish simultaneously created out of conceit and naivety.

It was only a matter of time until she needed to inform everyone of what she now knew. Deep within Aiko's chest, an implant of otherworldly-origin laid dormant with increasing moments of stirring power, possibly necessitating the placement of any restraints whatsoever before any harm could arise from her returning memories.

Noticing the abrupt cessation of the alarm klaxons outside the room, Aiko took one more exhausted glance at her bile-stained hands, prompting her to slide out of bed so she could drag her feet over to the nearby bathroom. Aiko faced little issue physically cleaning herself up underneath a sink's running waters. But no amount of cleansing could ever erase the proverbial blood that marked her hands. Nevertheless, once Aiko had stepped out of the bathroom, the silver-haired woman soon found herself tilting her head to one side at the advent of a ringing notification.

The sudden noise from the room's entrance was then followed up by a mundane knock on the door and a muffled voice. "Aiko." It was Yuki. "Is this... an alright time...?"

Using any lingering energy which still flowed through her body, Aiko pulled on her usual expression of utmost calm, ignoring the obvious tearstains beneath her reddish eyes. As the silver-haired woman slid back into her bed, she inputted a command into a holographic interface on her right, adjusting the overbed table above her lap until the platform's arm lowered it to the bedside. The last thing Aiko wanted to be seen of all things was a tray of her own filth. "You may enter, Yuki," she tentatively announced with a downward glance at her now-dried hands.

The room door slid open with a low hiss. Aiko held her expression from faltering even in the slightest. Taking care as to not physically give away anything outright, she pressed the tips of her fingers together before slowly turning her attention towards the room's entrance. Aiko honestly almost could not recognize her teammate from an initial glance. Underneath the door-frame, Yuki stood with a noticeable hunch in her posture and one hand stuffed inside her uniform's pockets. Her typical, easy-going smile was absent. Yuki's eyes were barely half-open. Her ponytail had also been undone, leaving Yuki's hair fully loose while it trailed down the back of a navy-blue jacket.

Aiko's arriving teammate only stepped inside after Yuki had placed her remaining hand inside her pockets. Once the entrance closed itself shut behind the tall woman, she placed herself roughly halfway between the door and Aiko's bed, providing few words other than a sentence that was too quiet for Aiko to hear even with the surrounding silence. Of course, Aiko herself perfectly understood the sudden alterations in Yuki's conduct. Ayano Komichi was no longer with them, after all. Another lost soul due in part to Aiko's own rising incompetence. A shining life taken far sooner than Komichi actually deserved. Not even the slow return of Aiko's memories dulled the sting of missing the opportunity to bid someone a simple farewell.

Mustering the will to shatter the dimly-lit quiet around them, Aiko maintained her polite smile before directing a simple question of concern towards her friend. "How are... you feeling, Yuki?" Any sensible person would criticize her choice of words in light of recent events. Even so, Aiko desired to provide even the smallest moments of calm for Yuki. It was the least she could do for all the sins she now carried to the knowledge of nobody here but herself.

"... I'm alright." Yuki's response felt almost like a reflection of the same phrase a certain crowned warrior often utilized. Although just as much believability could be found in her words, Aiko gave zero comment on it, and instead allowed Yuki to wordlessly lean against the nearest wall with her hands still stuffed inside her pockets.

Several teardrops were noticeably wiped away by Yuki's navy-blue sleeve while Aiko attempted again to carry some level of conversation. "Yuki," she began, unsure if her teammate currently even wanted to hear any mention at all about Komichi's passing, "is there... an ongoing emergency?" The awkward syllables left Aiko at a snail's pace. The only topic which felt even remotely discussible right now were the silent alarm klaxons beyond the room's metal walls.

Rubbing her eyes again with the rear of one palm, Yuki stared down on the room's pristine flooring, and finally spoke up in a clear but low voice. "The Distortions are back." Aiko needed to prevent herself from flinching at the mention of the battle automata she once fought alongside with. "The Commander wants both you and I to stay put for now," Yuki added with a scoff. "And, of course, 'Fen is out there... fighting." A defeated shrug of the shoulders came afterwards, keeping Yuki from noticing the way Aiko's trembling fingers tightly curled around one another. "I guess sittin' around on our asses is all we're good for now, eh?" Yuki sardonically remarked.

With a hint of trepidation in her motions, Aiko glanced aside to purse her lips at the black-and-white scarf she had loosely draped over the bed's metal railing. Her neck grew cold without its monochrome cloth's embrace. But now that Aiko held even the smallest understanding of who she really was, the silver-haired woman felt utterly undeserving of Lanfen's gift, let alone the items both Komichi and Yuki had eagerly provided merely a day ago. Their aforementioned presents were better kept inside the room's bedside drawer in the meantime. A monster like her also held no right to be suddenly worried for a woman she had horribly wronged, she firmly said to herself in the back of her mind.

"Yuki?" Aiko tentatively began again, now huddling her legs close to her chest underneath the warm blankets, "just what would you say if I ever-?" Her grasp over linguistics faltered for just a foolish moment. Repeating the question required a momentary clearing of her throat. "What would you say if I ever began remembering who I once was?"

Yuki's head perked up ever so slightly. She stayed silent for about a full second before carefully replying, "Already startin' to piece things together?"

A distinct ache ran through Aiko's sternum the moment she attempted to lie directly to her own friend's face. "Not at all," Aiko insisted without pausing, still maintaining a perfect mask of utmost serenity. "I simply wished to hear your opinion, that's all." She subsequently cupped her cheek in one hand out of habit and forced herself to give away nothing obvious across her expression. "My apologies if I created any sudden concerns," Aiko added with an empty giggle. "Things have certainly been... awful lately, haven't they?"

As a silver-haired woman's stream of incoherent words floated around the dimly-lit room, Yuki continued gazing at Aiko for a moment until she kicked her leaning body back onto proper footing. An impossible quiet accompanied the woman's footsteps while she approached the foot-end of Aiko's bed. Reaching one hand into the inner pockets of her uniform's coat, Yuki briefly rummaged through it until she finally pulled out a palm-sized container within her grasp. "Whatever's going on with your memories, you can talk to me or 'Fen about it once things settle down, alright?" Yuki quietly advised her, placing the retrieved item on top of the bed's blankets. "Just focus on restin' up till then."

Unsure of what to think about Yuki's sudden gesture, Aiko leaned forward in her seat before taking the provided container into her own hands. The quick press of a side-button showcased its contents: A wrist device. A replacement for the one Aiko had lost during the joint-operation against the Illuminati. She honestly found it difficult to smile at the sight of the requested tool when it was the theft of her previous device which had indirectly led to Komichi's death. "I shall s-say the same to you, Yuki." It was strangely becoming difficult for Aiko to speak without a shaky syllable in her speech. "It would certainly be for the best if we stayed out of everyone's business for now, wouldn't it?"

Yuki provided no actual response other than an obviously-forced chuckle and a small clap on Aiko's shoulder. If she had any actual words to say, they only ended up going unspoken, as an arriving notification on Yuki's wrist device proceeded to catch her attention. It was an incoming audio transmission from a Clan Hida operative. Aiko gave the woman permission to take the call outside through a brief nod of the head. Once Yuki had quietly dismissed herself with a brief, two-fingered salute, she left the room in a hurry, leaving Aiko to remain seated on her bed while she strapped on her substitute wrist device. A flurry of memorized inputs established her equipment's settings within minutes.

With her newest device now readied, Aiko directed a blurring gaze towards the room's ceiling, wondering just when the ideal opportunity would be to turn herself in. It was an act that required absolutely ideal timing, because there was no turning back once everyone's viewpoint of her was broken beyond repair.


The proverbial fires in Lanfen's pupils swirled to the point of deeming everything irrelevant save for the darting form of Lancelot du Lac. As pounding drumbeats and howling saxophones blasted from the speakers situated around an Adaptor's body, Lanfen grinded the Sword of Damocles against an armament of immaculate silver, composing searing sparks that would illuminate the memorial through each repeated clash of metal. Electro-swing jazz drowned out their clanking footfalls underneath resonating pianos. Snowfall descended from the skies to explode against their speeding bodies. Paying no heed to the diminishing finesse in her own assault, Lanfen's Armed Gear met only complete failure towards landing any blow whatsoever on her mono-eyed opponent.

"I don't know who I am, and that's okay! But what's going to happen today?!" Lyrics originating from the depths of an Adaptor's soul ushered every thirsting swing she made beneath the surrounding marble plaques. "My brain burns like it'll explode! Begging for it to not implode!" Propelling herself forward once more into a relentless charge, Lanfen threw her entire weight into a blinding hurricane, desperate to deprive Lancelot of even a moment's breath. "Can I fly before rolling out the die! Am I allowed to cry, before I finally try?!"

The blinding haste of Lancelot's own armament defied its heft. Neither did her obsidian armour restrict any of her movements. While Lancelot's two-handed blade effortlessly sent back every strike an Armed Gear attempted to produce a meager scratch, the helmeted knight exhibited the extent of her distress by weaving pass several thrusts with acrobatic artistry, evading Lanfen's closest blows through a display of flamboyant flips and spectacular twirls. The unspoken arrogance in Lancelot's dance-like motions only stoked the proverbial inferno in the Adaptor's eyes, further transforming Lanfen's barrage into a complete gamble for drawn blood.

"My brain is on fire, I'll never understand! I'm going to tire, blazed from every demand!" Sliding forward underneath a decapitating strike, Lanfen thrusted the Sword of Damocles across Lancelot's leather-bound wrists, lacerating the pale-white skin underneath with an anticipated spillage of ichor. The sheer momentum of Lanfen's attack forced a two-handed sword out of Lancelot's grasp. The Adaptor smirked as fresh droplets drizzled onto her scarred cheek. Utilizing the free hand she withheld behind her back, Lanfen curled up its aching fingers right before bludgeoning the side of Lancelot's crowned helm with a knuckle-flavoured kiss.

A bell-like clang heralded its ringing impact alongside a distorted whisper from Lancelot herself. "Is that it?"

A now-unoccupied hand imprisoned the Adaptor's thrown arm within a claw-like grip. Before Lanfen could even react, Lancelot rocketed her own blood-gushing forearm directly towards the Wielder's abdomen, bulldozing through her Symphogear's protective barriers until its fist hammered into Lanfen's monochrome fibers with a sickening crunch.

Warm ichor spewed out of the Adaptor's mouth. System alerts blared within her black-and-white headphones. Piano keys still resonating in the air, Lanfen felt her crumpling body soaring backwards across the monument. What little protection her Symphogear could reform shielded Lanfen instantly from the countless plaques her back collided with, provoking further warnings across her armour while fragments of hard marble showered onto the floor. Fastening her grip around the Sword of Damocles, the Adaptor desperately drove her Armed Gear into the ground, carving a lang gash over its surface until the makeshift anchor depleted Lanfen's hurled form of its unwanted propulsion.

Stomping her boots back onto the concrete flooring, Lanfen coughed up a thick glob of coppery ichor before she yanked the Sword of Damocles out of the ruined ground. The Adaptor soon forced herself back into an unsteady combat stance, completely ignoring the patch of crimson which was steadily blossoming over her stomach. System alarms in Lanfen's headphones rang nonstop. Her armoured legs were but a slip away from giving out underneath her weight. On the far end of the memorial, Lancelot could be seen casually hoisting her two-handed armament back into her grasp. The wounds on the knight's gushing wrists earned nothing more than an amused roll of her plated shoulders.

Their bloody festivities resumed when Lancelot mockingly brandished her armament in the exact same fashion Lanfen would always perform in the face of a Distortion rift. "Are you incapable of showing me a good time?!"

The insistent aching in Lanfen's sword-hand demanded nothing less than decapitation. "I-I want to be under the tree in my dreams! To breathe c-clean air above the depths!" With the suppressed agony that was blooming within her ruptured abdomen, the Adaptor found it impossible to do anything more than maintain her uneasy stance. "I won't let my b-burns be my theme!" Adrenaline pumped through every inch of Lanfen's aching muscles. The pained gaze she ran over the fragmented names which now laid at her feet lasted just long enough for Lanfen to be appalled at just how many lives their duel was sullying. "A-All I have to do is climb the s-steps!"

Saxophone howls pierced the air. Black-and-white flashed before her eyes. The steel letters in her vision slammed onto a cracking chessboard, declaring the attack maneuver, "Bishop Barrage."

Lanfen's pounding heart matched the rushing drumbeats coming out from her speakers. Ornate, crimson markings flashed across the length of her Armed Gear's thick blade. Drawing only one step forward in the direction of her opponent, Lanfen swung the Sword of Damocles in a wide arc, commanding a dozen floating, glowing replicas of her blade to manifest from her unspoken will. Five whole rows of summoned weapons appeared in unison on both of the Adaptor's sides and directed their tips in one direction.

A subsequent flick of Lanfen's wrist sent the translucent blades shooting towards Lancelot.

The knight's glowing mono-eye acknowledged the incoming barrage as a somatic gesture from Lancelot's own hand transfigured her two-handed armament into flickering, azure particles. "Getting serious, are we? Good." Charging head-on towards Lanfen's soaring swords, an unarmed Lancelot twirled past the first two blades that reached her, letting the manifested weapons graze over casted obsidian before both weapons were snatched out of the air by their respective handles.

Having seized an energy sword in both hands, the black knight turned towards the remaining volley and spun herself into a dance of blinding extravagance.

Her obsidian form delicately waltzed between the translucent projectiles while their attack runs sung through the air. Wielding the stolen weapons in her grasp, Lancelot emphasized her performance with unmatched footwork as she deflected every incoming missile. Each time the black knight struck away a soaring blade through a swing of her appropriated swords, the deflected weapons would careen into the nearby plaques, smashing apart the monument's marble and Lanfen's translucent projectiles. No amount of direct mental guidance from the Adaptor made it plausible for their sharpened tips to connect a single blow. The pain-stricken Lanfen could only grit her bloodied teeth at the continued defilement of her sister's resting place.

Once the last of her soaring blades had been swatted aside into a marble plaque, Lancelot tossed her pilfered weapons onto the snow-covered flooring and stomped them into a thousand crackling shards underneath her boot. "More," she demanded, elegantly wringing her bloodstained wrists. "I know you can do better, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen."

"I'll b-breathe with no ashes in my lungs. N-Not knowing what I have begun." A report from Lanfen's life support systems requested precisely one additional minute for it to completely mend her abdominal injury. But the sword-hand at her side was already pleading to throw herself back into action. "I'll ignite the fire that burns so loudly, my torch won't stop... shining... brightly!"

Black-and-white flashed before her eyes again. Excited pianos accompanied a loud clicking from her right gauntlet.

The steel letters slammed onto the chessboard to now spell out the words, "Knight Knuckle."

The gauntlet on Lanfen's right forearm expanded tremendously with multiple, sliding layers of kinetic-absorbing armour. Its built-in harpoon retracted itself into the depths of her growing plating, replaced by a thick block of explosives which was stationed over the giant knuckle that promptly encased the Adaptor's clenching fist. Rocket thrusters sprouted from the sides of her gauntlet to form a hissing quartet. A holographic targeting reticle projected over Lanfen's burning glare. When her Symphogear's calculating systems confirmed her attack's firing solution, Lanfen felt a palm-size switch slide into the grasp of her enclosed hand.

Another somatic gesture from Lancelot manifested her two-handed armament back into her possession.

Cheered on by the roaring trumpets from her speakers, the Adaptor dug her heels into the floor and squeezed her thumb down on the detonator. The targeting reticle over her eyes dismissed itself. Flames belched forth from four synchronized thrusters. The locks linking Lanfen's arm to her colossal gauntlet snapped open. Her braided hair fluttered wildly behind her. While the Adaptor's monochrome headphones shielded her eardrums from the earthshaking ignition of rocket exhaust, a titanic mass of black-and-white steel launched itself out from her forearm, sending its explosive payload rumbling towards a mono-eyed knight on the opposing end of the memorial.

Lancelot drew no move to evade in the slightest.

"How exciting."

The screeching of ripping metal drowned out Lanfen's electro-swing tunes.

The Adaptor clicked her tongue right as a replacement gauntlet formed itself over her right forearm.

Swifter than even Lanfen's enhanced senses could perceive, the Symphogear-Wielder bore witness to a two-handed armament making its way through the air, slicing every inch of descending snow in a downward trajectory so its immaculate silver could cleave into Lanfen's rocketing gauntlet, completely bisecting it down the middle until its severed halves haphazardly soared by an unharmed knight of midnight black. While a dull droning resounded from the crimson orb on Lancelot's faceplate, the bifurcated segments of Lanfen's attack maneuver spiraled uncontrollably into the neighbouring riverbank, calling forth its icy waters to shower upon the monument once their submerged payloads detonated within the river.

An auditory report from Lanfen's systems announced the accomplished mending of her abdominal wound. The Adaptor confirmed its results by immediately launching herself into a direct assault towards her opponent. Caring little for the momentary rain which fell upon her face, the proverbial fires in Lanfen's eyes narrowed their focus on nothing but the mono-eyed knight who was casually running a bloodstained hand over her armour's raised gorget.

Black-and-white permeated the Adaptor's vision.

Roaring saxophones heralded a readied ace-in-the-hole.

The steel letters pinned themselves onto the cracking chessboard, finally declaring Lanfen's trump card, "Queen Quicksilver."

Armour slid forth from her headphones' casings, forming a sleek mask over her face with a circular pair of compound eyes. "I want to be under the tree in my dreams! To breathe clean air above the depths!" Lanfen's face-shield then docked itself with her three-point crown, providing the cue for the Queen chess-piece on her right shoulder to begin thrumming with life. "I won't let my burns be my theme!" As waves of revitalizing energies surged throughout Lanfen's screaming muscles, Lancelot released her armour's neck-guard and regarded the Adaptor through a helmet's glowing, orb-shaped eye. "All I have to do... is climb the steps!"

Descending snow halted all around them. Falling river droplets slowed to a crawl mid-air. Seconds turned to entire minutes. Unable to perceive her own ongoing tunes as anything else other than drawn-out discord during her accelerated state, Lanfen began keeping track on the holographic timer that subsequently projected itself in the corner of her vision.

Ten seconds.

Sustained by the desire to end this prolonged duel once and for all, the Adaptor dove towards the frozen Lancelot, and drove the Sword of Damocles into a strike meant to conclude the entire Distortion conflict. Revenge for Kai-Ming. Revenge for Komichi. Revenge for a thousand other innocents. Neither of them demanded anything more from Lanfen beyond taking her first ever life. The life of a sentient being. A candle which could never shine again once it had been extinguished. Ultimately, any second thoughts about forever staining her hands were suspended the moment an azure glow started emanating from Lancelot's chest-mounted diamond.

Swift, slender silver crashed against an Armed Gear's killing edge before it could even come close to beheading Lancelot.

Straining metal resounded beyond Lanfen's protective headphones. Her purple eyes went wide underneath a face-shield's compound lenses. Sensing her blade suddenly locking itself with an unrelenting obstruction, the Adaptor gazed upon Lancelot's chest-embroidery while its azure radiance turned aside the surrounding shadows, eliminating them entirely until Lanfen could fully confirm through her own perception that the black knight was truly moving at the exact same paranormal haste as her accelerated body.

"I'll gladly keep up with you all night, my dear Valkyrie."

Lancelot's distorted gloating stoked the proverbial inferno within Lanfen's compound lenses. Every bit of initial shock in the Wielder's mind transformed into a simmering bloodlust beneath the carmine gaze of a glowing mono-eye. Unfazed by her Armed Gear's thwarted conclusion, Lanfen leaped backwards for a lung's worth of energy before immediately unleashing a bombardment of thirsting steel, guiding each and every attack purely through the cinders in her pupils. The Adaptor needed to end it all now. Her limbs were throbbing and any remaining discipline in her form had vanished. Within these ten extensive seconds, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen intended to finish this farce of a duel.

Eight seconds.

The black knight's attacks proudly met her blow-for-blow. Strike-for-strike. Thrust-for-thrust. Blessed with the mirroring enhancements of their accelerated speed, the blitzing duo became each other's lone companions in their frozen world. Halted snow and immobile river droplets broke apart from their deadly swings. Sparks from their clashing blades spilled into the skies before freezing still, accumulating searing umbrellas of fiery particles while the rivaling sword-wielders zipped between the remaining plaques which still lined the Mitakihara Disaster Memorial. No music accompanied their ballet, save for their metallic footfalls and the rhythmic blows between two crowned warriors.

Four seconds.

Throwing aside all sense of self-preservation, Lanfen purposefully halted her body in the trajectory of an incoming thrust, positioning herself just right for Lancelot's silvery blade to stab itself wholly past her barriers and into her waist. The flames in the Adaptor's eyes suppressed any cries her body attempted to release. Lancelot's mono-eye flickered as her two-handed armament's entire blade-length erupted out of Lanfen's back. Even so, once Lanfen felt its cross-guard pushing itself against her bloodied flesh, she took the manufactured opportunity to seize the armament's hilt in one hand, all while Lanfen directed the Sword of Damocles for one last attempt at a decisive strike.

"Impressive."

A hungering Armed Gear lunged towards Lancelot's throat.

The restrained, two-handed armament in the black knight's grasp transfigured itself into clouds of harmless azure.

Drawing the slightest shift of her head, the Sword of Damocles scraped past the side of Lancelot's crowned helm, spilling one last hail of hot sparks onto the paralyzed world around them. "But it's still not enough."

By the time Lancelot's distorted remark even reached Lanfen's ears, the front of the Adaptor's skull was already ringing underneath the knuckles of a black knight's leathery fists, disrupting every strategic thought Lanfen could fall back on. Fresh ichor spilled out from the growing gaps in her crumbling face-shield. Its compound lenses cracked like they were but fragile window glass. Her Symphogear's protective barriers approached their limits. System alerts became the only thing Lanfen could hear within her headphones. And yet, even when pain flooded all five of her waking senses, the proverbial fires in Lanfen's reddening vision provided her the remaining strength she required just to hold onto her Armed Gear, keeping it secured in her sword-hand while Lancelot's fists savaged her face through repeated, bare-handed, concussive force.

Zero seconds.

A thundering blow to Lanfen's mended abdomen sent her flying across the monument.

All forms of music from the Adaptor's speakers turned dead-silent.

Falling river water continued to shower the marble-littered flooring. Descending snow resumed their slow paths. A rain of accumulated sparks splashed upon Lancelot's armour and spilled blood splattered across the pure snow.

Still grasping onto the Sword of Damocles, Lanfen's body tumbled pathetically across the ground, staining the frozen white beneath her with deep crimson before coming to a stop underneath a half-destroyed plaque's shadow. Simply breathing conjured pain. Agonizing red was all she could perceive through her left eye. As the loud humming in the Adaptor's chess-piece shoulder pauldron died out, Lanfen retracted what remained of her battered face-shield back into her headphones, revealing a downpour of blood and sweat on her face. The expected wave of weariness that washed over her as an effect of using Queen Quicksilver could not even be felt amidst everything else her body was undergoing.

Clanking footfalls resounded from nearby.

Lanfen immediately rose up on one knee despite the sheer anguish her forced movements conjured up. Ignoring the constant warnings inside her headphones, Lanfen glared at an approaching Lancelot, hot steam now hissing from the joints in her obsidian armour while an azure light faded away from the strolling knight's chest-mounted diamond gem. She could end it all here if she won, Lanfen repeated over and over in her mind, fastening a stubborn hold over her Armed Gear's handle. Losing only half of her eyesight was not about to faze her in the face of a sworn enemy.

"Come now," Lancelot sweetly whispered underneath a crowned helmet, studying the battered Symphogear-Wielder with her crimson mono-eye, "don't you have one last trick up your sleeve, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen?"

Lanfen confirmed her distorted question by grasping onto her chest's converter unit.

The Sword of Damocles procedurally opened up a glowing slot situated right in the middle of its golden cross-guard.

Even when blind in one eye and wracked with barely-suppressed pain, the Adaptor fully stood again on her armoured boots, earning herself a brief clap of the hands from Lancelot before the black knight's own two-handed armament manifested back into her possession.

But right as Lancelot shifted her armoured form into an eager combat stance, she abruptly stepped backwards from Lanfen, seemingly out of simultaneous reflex and obvious confusion. Her converter unit still grasped between two numb fingertips, Lanfen hesitantly followed the shifting gaze of Lancelot's single eye, and slowly looked towards the ground to see a flickering ring of emerald particles faintly dancing around her.

Arcs of blistering lightning surged all over Lanfen. Enveloped by what felt to be a miniaturized thunderstorm contained purely to where she was standing, the first of Lanfen's screams now escaped her throat. Her Symphogear's reforming barriers broke within seconds. Her life support system failed to flush out any of the ensuing physical torment. Experiencing wave upon wave of scathing electricity, Lanfen's writhing body finally approached the true limits of its endurance. The screaming eventually stopped. Her armour of heretical technology began to crack. And when the raging lashes of lightning ceased, a black-and-white Symphogear crumbled into monochrome particles, leaving its Wielder to collapse onto the ground in her bloodstained civilian clothing.

The ongoing shower of river water stopped.

A ruby-like pendant clattered to the floor and slowly rolled towards Lancelot's boots.

Silence returned to the monument.

While cold winter frost bit deeply into Lanfen's bleeding flesh, her searing body laid across the ground on her chest, her limbs incapable of doing little more than desperately scraping her fingernails over the moist granite. Deprived of a Symphogear's essential pain-suppression systems, the stab wound in her waist rendered her immobile. Lanfen could only force herself to maintain a reddening stare on a now-silent black night.

Lancelot subsequently planted her two-handed armament's blade into the flooring and rolled a diamond-plated shoulder. With an accompanying flash of azure, her obsidian armour dissipated into nothingness along with her large weapon, bringing back Lancelot's diamond-patterned suit and black, leather shoes. An expression of frustration made itself obvious on her face as Lancelot concealed the azure gem on her left hand by redonning its black glove. "Must you be so brazen to interfere with my duels, Gawain?"

Illumination returned to the tall lamp posts around the monument one-by-one, bringing their dim, yellow lighting back onto the desecrated monument. Without the slightest bit of sound, a second figure made their presence known by stepping out from behind an unharmed marble plaque. Lanfen's half-blinded vision scanned their entire silhouette while they made their way over to Lancelot in a collected stride. Adorned in a hooded, festooned robe unlike anything the Adaptor had ever seen, long hair of gold flowed down the stranger's shoulders as a silky, translucent veil concealed their face, showcasing no features except the spade-shaped symbol which was sewed into its weave. After placing themselves at a dissatisfied Lancelot's side, Gawain brought themselves down on one knee and lowered their head into a submissive bow.

"I apologize for my rudeness, Knight-Commander, for I meant no disrespect," the veiled figure courteously stated, lifting their head back up. "I have sensed enemy forces making their way towards our location. We have little time to spare." Through a somatic wave of their own pale-white hand, emerald particles drizzled out from their fingertips and onto Lancelot's ichor-stained sleeves, causing the still-gushing wounds within them to seal themselves shut without any crimson stains left behind on her suit's fabric.

The never-ending ringing in Lanfen's cranium prevented her from lifting more than two fingers. Lancelot released a hush sigh and retrieved the ruby-like pendant lying right beside her shoe. Delicately picking it up between her gloved fingers, Lancelot presented it over to her robed companion, letting Gawain take it into both of their hands with a ritualistic bow of the head. Lanfen wordlessly screamed at herself to get up. To stand once more and reclaim her weapon, all so she could continue their interrupted exchange of blades. The swirling infernos in Lanfen's pupils latched her attention onto Lancelot. Copper was all she could taste. But even so, Lanfen refused to let her slipping mind lose consciousness.

A three-dimensional construct of transparent vibrancy soon formed between Gawain's open hands. Mimicking the artistic symbol of the suit of spades, Lanfen's stolen pendant remained suspended in the glimmering manifestation, slowly rotating in place while needle-like appendages analytically probed its crimson exterior. Lancelot gave the ethereal process none of her interest. Instead, the suited woman combed her azure hair with one hand again and responded to Lanfen's laborious glare with an impressed raise of a brow. In time, the construct within Gawain's hold concluded its purpose by soundlessly disappearing between their fingertips, leaving an Adaptor's pendant to lightly fall back onto Lancelot's outstretched palm.

Gawain then turned their veiled face over to an immobilized Lanfen, calmly inquiring, "What do you propose we do with her now that we have attained what we came for?"

Lancelot regarded the ruby-like object in her hold for one second before declaring a sentence bereaved of any sweetness, "Tie up the loose ends." Stroking her chin once, Lancelot began strutting over to the Adaptor with a slight hint of visible regret. "Tis rather disappointing that our passionate night had to be interrupted, my dear Valkyrie. But since you've shown to still wield the same spark which captured my heart, I shall ensure your departure with a parting gift." She licked her blue lips at the desperate, dagger-like stare that Lanfen flung towards her and placed herself right next to the Adaptor's body. A sharp, subsequent kick knocked the bleeding woman onto her back as Lanfen coughed out a mouthful of ichor. "After all... once I'm done, there will be nobody left to awaken your precious Sword of Damocles."

A pair of gloved fingers released the SG-r04's pendant and dropped it right beside Lanfen's ringing head like a useless paperweight. From the inner pockets of Lancelot's diamond-patterned suit, the woman carefully drew out an object of shining chrome, allowing the surrounding lamp posts' warm lighting to bounce off its silver exterior while Lancelot's back faced the ringed moon in the winter skies. Recognition hastily registered within an Adaptor's blurring mind. What Lancelot wielded was the same weapon Lanfen had witnessed from Kagero's attained security footage. A firearm who's bellowing she had once caught within her ears merely a day ago.

The dreaded gun which took Komichi's life.

"Let me also grant you a mystery to solve in the afterlife, Cassandra Jiang Lanfen," Lancelot cooed, proudly straddling the Adaptor's pained body with her standing form. "While I shall take credit for the numerous purged souls around us... there is sadly one particular name I cannot take into account." An ecstatic grin grew across Lancelot's face without any hesitation. "Your sister, Cynthia Jiang Kai-Ming." Lancelot's sheer gall to suddenly utter such a name intensified the proverbial flames within Lanfen's pupils. And yet, no amount of ire could force a transformation chant out of her faltering lungs. "You want to know where your sister's murderer has been this entire time, don't you?"

A distinct clicking announced a firearm's undone safety. Its chrome barrel pointed downwards on Lanfen and held her twitching form within the sights of a gun's business end.

"Luckily for you, she's always been standing right by your side."

A single gunshot echoed throughout the rift-plagued skies, heralding the dark curtain that soon overtook Lanfen's vision.