People were horrid.
They were pitiable, two-faced creatures; always so quick to judge, and always so quick to betray others for the sake of gaining some meager perceived advantage. To this end, they had no issues with donning a proverbial mask to curry favor with their betters. Unabashed sycophants, the lot of them.
Wakamo wanted no part of it, and so she considered it an honor to be branded an outcast from such a society. In fact, part of the reason she wore a mask in the first place was to make a mockery of their insincerity. While Wakamo utilized allies whenever it suited her, such as when she had enlisted the help of the Helmet Gang in the past, she was certain that nobody would, or could, understand her.
Then she met Sensei.
Wakamo had never considered herself a romanticist, not in the slightest. Romance used to be a concept she dismissed as something for the faint of heart - for the ubiquitous lovestruck schoolgirl that Kivotos tended to cultivate. And yet…
He was perfect.
Wakamo knew it, believed it, from the depths of her very soul. From the very first time she laid eyes upon him, it was blindingly clear that he was the one, and the only one, for her. Another outsider to Kivotos society who could also easily match, nay, surpass her penchant for destruction.
To a lesser, weak-minded student, that fact may not have been readily apparent, especially since he tended to conceal every inch of his features behind that black armor. But Wakamo knew better than that.
It was in the way he moved, the way he acted, even the way he talked. Each one of those weapons on him had seen extensive use. He handled explosive ordnance carefully yet efficiently, suggesting experience beyond the ken of most students. And the adorable way in which he twitched when someone around him made a sudden movement, as well as how he constantly swiveled his head around, perpetually surveying his surroundings for what she assumed was danger…
Despite not being a student, Sensei was used to having the world against him. And though it tended to be every fault of hers, it was a feeling that she understood all too well.
Their meeting was preordained. How could it not be so?
She turned her head to gaze lovingly into his reddish visor. The man was preoccupied with something on that peculiar device on his wrist, but Wakamo knew that Sensei had not, for a single second, let his guard down. Not that she could blame him; he'd spent nearly every moment in this city being accosted by students. It was only natural he'd harbor a deeply rooted mistrust of his surroundings.
Fiery rage boiled within her at the mere thought. Those pathetic students must have thought that they could take advantage of him, order him around, expecting him to acquiesce since he had no halo. Wakamo reckoned that it was only due to Sensei's kind nature that he even entertained their worthless plights.
Yes, that must have been it. Granted, she didn't entirely understand his motives herself (namely, the issues he took with her prior actions), but what other explanation could there be? Why else would he willingly work with those who were so utterly beneath him if not for the simple fact that he was kind-natured?
Even though Sensei was exceedingly capable of defending himself, Wakamo vowed that she wouldn't let any of those leeches take advantage of him. It didn't matter who it was – she'd trample the GSC, those SRT brats, or even the other six Prisoners underfoot if she had to.
"Wakamo."
She shuddered as she thought of the sound of his voice. Back when Sensei complimented her outfit in that lovely voice of his, it took all of her willpower to not faint right then and there. His voice carried with it a rugged suaveness and an accent she couldn't quite place, but that only added to the appeal, in her objectively correct view.
"Hey, Wakamo!"
Ah, there it was again! More forceful this time, befitting a person as strong-willed as Sensei. From what she had seen on TV and on the internet, Sensei was someone who controlled the flow of every conversation, and it was easy to see why. Wakamo could listen to a voice like Sensei's all day; have it permeate through every aspect of her life…
She idly wondered if those eggheads at Millennium had created a Sensei ASMR yet. She fancied destroying Millennium property as much as any other district's, but even Wakamo had to admit that they occasionally made neat stuff.
"Hello? Earth to Fox?"
Wakamo swooned. She wouldn't have minded waking up every day to the sound of her beloved Sensei before they went off to terrorize some hapless academy. Wakamo giggled as she replayed the scenario in her head, again and again and again. Where would they target next? Naturally, there was the GSC, but that was the lowest-hanging fruit. SRT was as good as closed, so that wasn't an option either, as much as revenge appealed to her.
Perhaps she could pay her underclassmen in Hyakkiyako a visit. Trinity and Wild Hunt were also quite lovely this time of year…
Sensei extended a hand and booped her on the nose, causing the Fox of Calamity to yelp in surprise. "Y-yes, Sensei?" she asked, rubbing her nose where he had touched. It may have been sudden, but his touch wasn't unpleasant…
"Eyes on the road," he reminded, pointing in front of them.
Ah. That's right. She was driving.
The vehicle had a robust autopilot functionality, but according to Sensei, the area they were heading into was unmapped, so she thought it best to take navigation into her own hands. But even if she were to look away from the wheel for a few moments, it's not like any of the dilapidated buildings in their surroundings would stand a ghost of a chance against a fortified vehicle in the event of a collision.
Still, Sensei knew best, she supposed. She reluctantly tore her gaze away from her beloved and focused on the boring, uninspiring road before them.
Wakamo was no stranger to using the relatively empty district as a hideout in the past, so she knew that Abydos had truly seen better days. The lack of proper upkeep combined with the constantly fluctuating climate merely contributed to its decline over time.
Naturally, Wakamo heard that Sensei had been spending much of his time in Abydos, but she didn't quite understand why. What did he see in the district? It certainly couldn't have been the drab scenery.
…Could it be the students?
No, Sensei isn't like that, Wakamo thought as she pushed back a wave of burning jealousy. In any event, what could those students possibly have that she didn't? She'd never run into them before, but they didn't seem like much. Perhaps Sensei pitied them.
"By the way," Wakamo ventured. "Why are we going to Abydos desert, Sensei?"
"Reconnaissance. I want to know what a group is doing there, and many forces they have," he explained. "…And maybe destroy a thing or three while we're at it," he slyly added. Now that was music to her ears.
"What group is it, Sensei?" Wakamo asked casually, concealing her fury at the organization that'd dare make an enemy of Sensei.
"Kaiser."
She frowned. The name rang a bell. She recalled they had contacted her some time back, seeking to hire her for a job, but she declined. Wakamo wasn't a huge fan of the subtle, underhanded types of jobs that Kaiser was looking to hire for.
"…Why, will that be a problem?" he asked as he turned to look at her, perhaps to see whether she was likely to betray him.
"Not at all," she replied sweetly. "Though I will admit I'm curious. Why them?"
"Because I don't like them," Sensei responded bluntly.
A cruel smile spread across Wakamo's face. "As good a reason as any."
A gust kicked up dust which buffeted the windshield as their vehicle passed by countless ruined buildings. They had long passed the residential area, so they only had a few minutes until they reached the desert.
Wakamo's ears perked up as Sensei turned a knob on his device, causing music to smoothly play from it. The sound of drums and a guitar was followed by a man singing, and Wakamo closely listened to the lyrics.
"I kiss 'em and I love 'em cuz to me they're all the same
I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em, they don't even know my name
They call me the wanderer."
She smiled, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Wakamo didn't understand the majority of the lyrics, but she heard the word "love" in there, so what else could such an upbeat song be about? Sensei sure knew suitable music for setting up a romantic atmosphere.
Was there a better way to consummate their love than to utterly annihilate their enemies together while being serenaded by a romantic song? She didn't think so.
The pavement road, previously visible, became swallowed by the earth, and the pathway faded into the vast desert expanse. Half-buried buildings and road signs all signaled that the duo was now on the outskirts of the Abydos desert.
The song segued into a catchy saxophone instrumental while Sensei interestedly peered out the window from the passenger seat. Maybe he liked deserts, Wakamo guessed.
The truck's tires sank slightly into the sand as she drove but were otherwise unaffected by the loose earth. Though Gehenna had no deserts, their vehicles were still designed to be multi-terrain, so they had nothing much to worry about. Their vehicle would get them to where they needed to go.
"And when I find myself falling for some girl,
I hop right into that car of mine and drive around the world,
Cuz I'm a wanderer."
…The only question was, where were they going? Sensei mentioned reconnaissance, so maybe he didn't entirely know either?
Shrugging, Wakamo decided that there was no issue one way or another. The most important thing was, she was here with Sensei. Nothing else in the world mattered.
Despite her best efforts to stay focused on the road, she turned to lovingly gaze at her Sensei.
Truly, there was nothing that could ruin such a moment.
All of a sudden, Sensei tensed, bracing for impact while yelling, "Watch out!"
Startled, Wakamo turned back to the road, just in time to see two armed guards haplessly try to escape from the speeding vehicle. Wakamo attempted to brake, but it was no use, as the truck's momentum carried it forward right into the two guards. She heard two dull thumps under the vehicle as they ran them over and impacted against the small checkpoint the two guards were presumably posted at.
They came to a complete stop, and Wakamo took a moment to evaluate the damage. There was no obvious damage to the vehicle, but the checkpoint they drove into was completely wrecked.
She nodded in approval. Wakamo had to hand it to the Pandemonium Society – their armor plating was tough stuff.
With the important matters accounted for, she balefully searched for the ones responsible for getting in the way and interrupting her time with Sensei. Peering into the side view mirror, she saw one guard on the ground knocked out behind the vehicle. The other was barely conscious, and sluggishly struggled to her feet, her halo on the fritz.
Wakamo clicked her tongue in irritation. Mere bugs against the windshield. Why wouldn't they just be squashed already?
Wakamo grasped the gear selector and pulled it down, switching the vehicle transmission to reverse. She pushed down on the gas pedal, rocketing the vehicle backward and ramming the persistent bug once more, one more hollow thump being produced as Wakamo finished the job. She hit the brakes, nodding satisfactorily to herself as she saw the impudent guard on the ground unconscious, right where she belonged.
The Fox prepared to move on, but Sensei held out a hand.
"Hold on. Park for a sec."
Wakamo tilted her head questioningly but complied. She watched as Sensei exited the vehicle and wordlessly approached the fallen guards.
Her stomach sank a bit. Did she do something wrong again? They wore the uniforms of Kaiser's PMC, so there shouldn't have been any issues, right? She hoped that Sensei would forgive her if she ended up doing something bad again.
Sensei crouched next to one of the fallen students and began…removing her clothes?
…What?
There were a million conclusions that Wakamo could have jumped to. But Wakamo clung to the belief that Sensei wouldn't do something like…that, especially not in front of her. He wouldn't be seduced by some random guard of an organization he explicitly stated he disliked.
Right?
Breathe, Kosaka. Breathe.
…
That's right. Sensei has a good reason for everything he does, she reassured herself as she eased her death grip on Crimson Calamity. She managed to refrain from inflicting every imaginable violence on the two harpies, but nonetheless kept her murderous glare affixed on the meddling PMC members.
Sensei finished removing their clothes, or more aptly, their uniforms, leaving them in their undershirts and shorts. She watched with no small degree of jealousy as he picked up the two guards and deposited them in the shade of the ruined checkpoint. What she wouldn't give to be the one in his arms…and in her smallclothes…
Ah, how scandalous! Wakamo thought, nearly dying from embarrassment.
Returning to Wakamo, he stopped in front of her. "Keep watch, okay? I'll only be a bit," Sensei said as he clutched their uniforms.
"Ah? S-sure!"
Sensei climbed into the back of the vehicle and shut the doors. Her ears twitched as they picked up the sound of rummaging. She couldn't deny that she was curious about what he was doing, but Sensei told her to keep watch, and so she'd do it, for however long it'd take. She stowed her rifle and withdrew her parasol, using it to shield herself from the sun.
My, but the desert is no place to wear a kimono… Wakamo panted a bit under the sweltering weather. Even a swimsuit would have been more appropriate for this heat. It wasn't quite summer yet, but she still wondered how receptive Sensei would be to the idea.
The rustling sounds from within the vehicle stopped for a few minutes, and Wakamo began to grow a bit concerned. She rapped one of her knuckles against the door.
"Sensei? Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied, a tad muffled. "Just about done here."
If he's just about done, that means it's safe to open it, right?
Tentatively, she twisted the handle on the armored door to open it, and she immediately gasped.
She was greeted by a man who was clad in the camouflaged Kaiser PMC armor, which was modified to fit his size. A blue halo floated above his head, and he carried in one of his hands a PMC helmet with its complementing gas mask, with Sensei's usual outfit and headgear resting on one of the vehicle's benches.
The man could only have been none other than her darling Sensei, even if he had a halo. Wakamo had never heard of a fake halo before, but she was sure that Sensei could do whatever he set his mind to.
He glanced at her while he was adjusting the sleeves of the uniform, and their eyes met.
The moment his sharp, hunter-like eyes fixated on hers, her breath hitched, and she found that she couldn't move a muscle. Even her tail went stock still as she became lost in his eyes, which pierced through her very being.
After a few moments of meeting each other's gazes, Sensei spoke up. "Uh…you okay?
Wakamo couldn't answer, for her legs had failed to properly support her, and she tipsily collapsed onto the ground, her consciousness rapidly fading along with the sound of Sensei's sublime, surprised voice.
And so the Fox of Calamity was soundly defeated, but not before she managed to burn every detail of Sensei's features into her memory.
Tightening the straps on my newly acquired headgear, I tried moving the gas mask and helmet to test the fit, finding them to be just right. After looking over the rest of the gear, I nodded in satisfaction.
Merely from the two PMC guards' equipment, I could tell Hina was right on the money about Kaiser's PMC being a cut above the petty criminals and delinquents I had fought so far. This was genuine military gear, with the only similarly equipped student I'd encountered being the RABBIT.
Kaiser PMC Combat Armor, as I registered the article's name in my Pip-Boy, was decent protection-wise, as far as medium-weight armor went. The armor boasted good upper body coverage but was rather scant around the leg area, prompting me to make some last-minute modifications to it. With the modifications I made, I estimated the armor afforded about as much protection as a suit of Mark I Combat Armor – hence, it wasn't anywhere near as effective as my standard gear. But the important thing was that it'd be an effective disguise. The headgear obscured the entirety of my head, and the armor was bulky enough to make my gender ambiguous to any distant onlookers, so with my halo equipped I could sufficiently pass as a rogue PMC soldier. I considered redonning the mantle of Vance, but it was too early to do so without arousing suspicion, considering how recent the heist was.
I didn't want Kaiser to be able to tell who I was just yet – at least, not until we're ready to confront them. Right now, it'd only complicate things for Abydos if I were to be identified as a trespasser in Kaiser property.
The efficacy of the armor aside, I found the gas mask to be a nice touch. It wasn't airtight nor did it have a respirator like my normal helmet, but it'd block most manners of air hazards barring the Cloud. After Father Elijah blindsided me with a potent nerve gas at the abandoned Brotherhood of Steel bunker, I refused to go most places for an extended period of time without a respirator or at least some degree of air filtration.
Never. Again. I'd had plenty of time since the Sierra Madre to sort myself out, but it wasn't likely I'd ever kick the habits I acquired as a result of what transpired there.
"Mm…" Wakamo stirred on the bench where I had laid her down, pulling me away from my thoughts. Her halo materialized and her eyes fluttered open, their haziness clearing as she came to. "…Huh?"
I walked over to her, eyeing her condition. "Hey, you alright? You collapsed out of nowhere."
Startled, her eyes darted to me. "Sensei?!" she exclaimed.
"In the flesh."
"I…wasn't dreaming?" Her tone became uneven.
"Depends. What's the last thing you remember?"
"Well…" Wakamo became fiercely red in the face. "I saw you, and…"
"And?"
"I…" she trailed off, at a loss for words. Did she not recall fainting?
She matched a few of the symptoms of heat stroke, such as redness, tachycardia, and erratic speech, but her core body temperature was fine, which threw off my initial suspicions of heat-related malady. To obfuscate matters further, there was another, seemingly unrelated symptom.
Right as she collapsed, she suffered a spontaneous nosebleed. Dry air was a common cause of nosebleeds, yes, but this was the first time I had seen a nosebleed so abrupt and, well, superfluous, for lack of a better word.
This puzzled me to no end. A brief medical evaluation suggested that Wakamo was perfectly healthy, but then why did she collapse like that? She didn't exhibit any signs of internal hemorrhaging. I considered the possibility that the sight of me caused her reaction, but immediately dismissed it as drivel – I'd never even heard of someone getting a nosebleed and fainting just from looking at another person.
If there was any silver lining to this conundrum, it was that at least now I knew that students could bleed.
Sighing, I said, "If you really need to, you can take the truck and go, Wakamo."
"E-eh?" Her eyes widened.
"I can take it from here. Don't worry." Truth be told, I was more than a little concerned. As far as I knew, Wakamo had just suffered the most grievous injury I had ever seen in a student. Her halo looked fine now, but if there was something crucial I didn't know about student physiology, then my medical knowledge may not be enough to help her were she to suffer a worse episode.
Wakamo rapidly sat up despite my urging, her features dire. "No, really, I'm fine!" she insisted, desperate tears forming in her eyes. "I could never abandon you in this wasteland, Sensei!"
I nearly snorted. As far as Wastelands went, the Abydos desert was pretty tame. "You're sure you're fine?"
She rapidly nodded her head.
Shrugging, I responded, "Well, alright." If she really was fine, then I supposed I could just file the odd occurrence under merely another facet of Kivotos insanity.
Besides, I was eager to get a move on. We'd used up enough time here already, and it was only a matter of time before an enemy patrol chanced upon us.
At that moment, Wakamo's ears twitched, and I faintly made out the sounds of another vehicle approaching from the east.
I frowned. That was fast, too fast. Did the guards Wakamo took out manage to call for backup beforehand?
"Looks like we've got company," I remarked, slinging on a few weapons and grabbing a few belts of ammunition from the weapon trunks.
"It would appear so." Wakamo began to do the same, her features immediately shifting away from demureness as she gained a menacing smirk. "Shall we greet them with open arms?"
Whether the pun was intentional or not, I snickered. "Let's."
Pushing open the doors, I brandished an MG42 as I peered in the direction the sound came from. Sure enough, a pair of armored vehicles somewhat similar to ours was closing in rapidly. I prepared to open fire, but stopped and raised an eyebrow as Wakamo came to a stop beside me. She stowed her parasol and slipped on her fox mask, before hoisting a Panzerschreck rocket launcher over her right shoulder. Using only one arm, she fired, the rocket zipping forth and engulfing the first vehicle in a fiery explosion.
That gun sure lived up to its moniker, "tank's bane".
The vehicle's occupants, being students, weathered the blast, but lay dazed and scattered around its flaming wreckage. Wakamo reloaded her rocket launcher and took a shot at the second vehicle, but the driver maneuvered out of the way of the incoming rocket. Soon after, the vehicle stopped, its occupants rapidly exiting and cleverly spreading into a wide formation to deter the effectiveness of explosives on our end. Wakamo hissed in annoyance and tossed aside the rocket launcher in favor of a more suitable weapon as the enemy forces opened fire on us. In turn, I opened fire with the light machine gun, the rapid stream of bullets making short work of two soldiers.
Not bad. Generally, I tended to avoid using automatic weapons due to their higher demand for ammunition, but I couldn't deny their efficiency against a numerically superior foe.
Well, the ammo wasn't mine to begin with, so that helped too.
Queuing up V.A.T.S., I selected three other targets. Three consecutive bursts of fire pelted the soldiers, causing them to stumble, but weren't enough to take them out, likely because, unlike most students, these wore proper armor. Wakamo, following my lead, made short work of the three targets with a few well-placed headshots from her rifle.
Though we made a good dent in their forces, their return fire was concentrated and accurate enough to cause me to seek cover. I dove behind a nearby sand dune, grunting as I loaded another ammunition belt into the machine gun; the damn thing wasn't quite as hungry as a minigun, but if I wasn't careful, I'd exhaust all the ammo on me.
Wakamo didn't join me in cover, instead staying in the open, perhaps in the hopes of drawing fire away from me. Her tactic worked, as the forces from the first vehicle recovered enough to fight and joined their dwindling comrades.
According to what I overheard from Schale staff, Wakamo was an infamous criminal who'd evaded every attempt at capture by the GSC and the various academies. But I had my doubts as to how long she could keep up against the direct fire of nearly twenty well-trained and well-armed soldiers.
"How dare you…" Wakamo muttered, barely audible under the sound of gunfire. I could've sworn I heard the ground shake slightly. "How dare you try to harm my beloved?!" she shrieked, her mask's eyes glowing crimson. Putting one foot forward, she dashed forward at an impressive speed toward our attackers.
I blinked in surprise at the display but nonetheless capitalized on the chance she opened up. Swapping weapons to a scoped Kar98k bolt-action rifle, I began sniping the distracted PMC soldiers, starting with the more isolated ones.
Wakamo closed in on the group of students and began sowing chaos. Wielding her rifle like a baseball bat, she swung it on the head of the nearest enemy, predictably knocking them out. Wakamo immediately picked up the fallen soldier's weapon and began spraying the automatic rifle with abandon at the others. Once she neared another soldier, Wakamo grabbed the enemy by the collar and hoisted her up. After reaching into her robe pocket, Wakamo strapped a bundle of dynamite onto the flailing soldier. Wakamo then tossed the soldier at a group of enemies who had put some distance between themselves and the crazed terrorist. The dynamite detonated and kicked up a cloud of dust and sand, but it wasn't likely the enemies in the radius would be getting up anytime soon.
One particularly brave PMC soldier crept up behind the rampaging Wakamo and brandished a gun I didn't recognize. The soldier fired several automatic shotgun blasts at Wakamo, staggering the latter, before I sniped the soldier in the back of the head. The soldier was stunned long enough for Wakamo to recover and fire her rifle into her assailant's head, point-blank, finishing her off. With that taken care of, we began mopping up the stragglers, who held their ground and didn't retreat despite the tables being turned on them. How disciplined of them.
After the last enemy fell, the atmosphere once again became quiet, minus the whistling wind and the shifting of sand. I regrouped with Wakamo, whose mask was scratched slightly but otherwise showed no signs she had just tangled with a military group.
"Sensei," Wakamo addressed sweetly. "You were excellent back there."
"Thanks," I replied. "You're pretty strong yourself. I'm starting to see why they call you the Fox of Calamity."
"Mmm~" Wakamo practically melted at the casual compliment, bringing her hands up to her masked cheeks. Somehow, her blush radiated through her mask. "Hearing that from Sensei… My heart might just explode!"
"Okay…" I nodded slowly. "But I'd rather you save the 'explode' part for them."
Wakamo giggled creepily at that. I didn't quite know what to make of that, so I left it at that.
I picked up the automatic shotgun from the student who snuck up on Wakamo. If I could get around the ammo issues I knew this thing would have, then it'd be a pretty scary close-quarters tool.
My companion joined me in looting, stripping ammunition and explosives from our fallen enemies. Like Shiroko, it seemed Wakamo also understood the importance of gathering supplies from enemies.
Maybe she'd get along with Shiroko.
I stopped in my tracks as I imagined the fiercely territorial Abydos student meeting the obsessed criminal.
…On second thought, probably not.
Following the tracks the two PMC vehicles left, we were led to an outpost, which seemed to be a forward operating base of sorts, and it was well-fortified. Full guard detail, walls that scaled several meters high, guard towers, security spotlights, and other assorted fortifications.
If it wasn't clear before, it was now – Kaiser didn't want anybody here.
I wasn't certain of what we would find here, but there was no other feasible solution other than breaking in by force. Stealth would take too long in an area of this size, and Wakamo decidedly did not strike me as the stealthy type.
Fortunately for me, Wakamo much preferred force to begin with.
Immediately upon sighting our vehicle, alarms were sounded, and troops began mobilizing from the interior. A large-scale conflict was inevitable.
Wakamo and I filed out of the vehicle, each of us feeling a little heavier due to having stocked up on ammunition and weapons in preparation for a protracted fight. I watched as at least fifty enemy troops exited their base while some remained perched on top of the guard towers and walls. Interestingly, a good portion of the mobilized troops were not students, but were roughly human-sized, bipedal, armored robots. They could communicate to some degree, as I heard a few shouting orders amongst themselves, but judging from their toneless, robotic voices it was questionable as to whether they possessed true artificial intelligence like the various TV head synths in Kivotos.
This was the largest concentrated force I'd ever seen in this city. It still paled in comparison to the NCR's forces at Hoover Dam in the past, but that didn't change the fact that we were grossly outnumbered. Without the backup of Abydos, we'd have to tread carefully.
Or rather, I'd have to tread carefully. Tact wasn't in Wakamo's dictionary, and thus I felt that it'd be more prudent to just let her be herself.
"Wakamo?" I said.
"Anata-sama?" Wakamo was literally trembling in anticipation.
Resisting the urge to groan at yet another weird new nickname foisted onto me, I replied, "Don't worry about me during the fight."
"Huh?" Wakamo cocked her head like a confused puppy. "But I can't let these ants get in your way, Sensei…"
"Trust me, I can take care of myself," I persuaded. Having the support of Arona would make things a lot easier, but failing even that, I still had my stims and skills. I didn't cheat death multiple times just so I could bite the dust to some corporation's goons.
"Well, if you're sure…"
Eyeing the advancing enemy, I readied my weapons. "I am. Go, enjoy yourself."
Wakamo's tail wagged animatedly. "Then I will give you a show."
She promptly dashed off into the fray while the enemies fixed their firearms on her. I moved to head out as well but paused when my Pip-Boy started playing music all of a sudden.
Thought I turned this thing off.
I checked the device, assuming that this was a rare instrument malfunction, only to find Arona's giggling face on the screen giving me a thumbs up.
"…Very funny," I flatly said, suppressing a smirk at the song choice. I lowered my arm and decided to let Arona have her fun. It wasn't at a volume that the enemy might hear anyway, so there was no harm in it.
I strode onto the battlefield just as the first shots were being fired, grinning slightly – I may not have had access to most of my better equipment, but I couldn't deny that the prospect of being able to fight without holding back for the sake of appearances was exhilarating.
"Got a doll baby, I love her so
Nothin' else like her anywhere you go."
Wakamo ignored the bullets pelting her as she fired her rifle in quick succession, each of her shots hitting their mark. She rapidly rolled to the side as a mech fired a rocket launcher in her direction, the explosion uselessly kicking up sand next to her. Using the momentum of her roll, she broke into a sprint, circling around the area where the enemies were concentrated to shake them off.
I took advantage of the PMC's preoccupation with her as I snuck up behind the mech with the rocket launcher. In one clean motion, I drew Blood-Nap from its concealed spot in my belt and slashed the robot across the neck, sparks and oily lubricant escaping from the site. I sheathed the Bowie knife and grabbed the rocket launcher off the ground, aiming and firing it at the guard tower nearest to us. The snipers perched on the guard tower, previously focused on Wakamo, shouted in panic as the tower exploded into wooden debris and sent them careening from it. The PMC forces around me turned to face me, evidently thrown off by the disguise.
"Oh man, she's anything but calm,
A regular pint-sized atom bomb."
The Fox withdrew several Stielhandgranaten and, in the span of less than a second, pulled the cord on all of them. She scattered the stick grenades at the most concentrated pockets of enemies, with the exception of the enemies near me, despite what I told her earlier. The enemies shouted as they saw the grenades sail above them, and the PMC members attempted to disperse.
Quickly, I unholstered a Walther P38 handgun and activated V.A.T.S., firing one round at each of the stick grenades in the air, causing them to explode prematurely and catching several pockets of enemies in the blast radii before they could disperse. The enemies in front of me began firing at me, Arona blocking most of their fire. I sought cover behind a series of barricades.
"Atom bomb baby, boy she can start,
One of those chain reactions in my heart."
Wakamo darted forth and closed the distance between herself and two mechs wielding assault rifles. She paid no mind to the mechs' gunfire as she readied her rifle's bayonet and stabbed the first robot through the chest. The robot fell, and Wakamo pivoted to the side and detached the bayonet from her rifle, using the blade to impale the second robot through the head. A sniper rifle round struck her square on the mask, and she furiously turned to the PMC soldier who fired it. Wakamo traded rifle fire with the sniper until the sniper's halo faltered.
I leaned out of cover and let loose a stream of lead at my assailants, taking out a few before the light machine gun clicked, signaling it was time to reload. While in the process of doing so, a mech with a shotgun rounded the corner, attempting to flush me out of cover. I rapidly swapped weapons to my pistol and repeatedly shot the mech in the leg, disabling its servos and causing the mech to fall to one knee. A few consecutive knife slashes finished the job, and the mech fell.
"She's just the way I want her to be,
A million times hotter than TNT!"
The sound of helicopter rotors drew close. We were soon beset by an attack helicopter, which began firing a fusillade of bullets from a pair of twin turrets on its underside at Wakamo. The Fox was slowed for merely a second before she brought up her rifle once more, except something unusual happened.
Several pink flowers manifested above Wakamo, and their petals coalesced around her rifle. The flowers disappeared from existence, and Wakamo fired a single round which glowed a bright crimson. The round impacted the cockpit and pierced right through, apparently striking something important, and the helicopter soon lost control of itself in midair and crashed, a few unlucky PMC troops being caught in the blast. Wakamo cackled madly, reveling in the destruction.
An ability like Serika's, I thought as I observed the strange flowery attack. It was seeming less likely that these abilities were granted by technology, since even Wakamo had access to them. These abilities also seemed tailored to the individual student – the flowers that Wakamo manifested matched the motif of her halo. Was there a connection? And if so, what did it mean?
Setting such thoughts aside for later, I finished off the last of my attackers then took stock of the situation. We were doing exceedingly well against Kaiser's forces. With the groups that Wakamo and I knocked out combined, that equaled nearly as many troops as we started out with.
The issue was the reinforcements. They just kept coming and they had no sign of stopping. While Wakamo also showed no signs of slowing down as she tore through their ranks, I wasn't eager to test her limits, considering what was at stake.
Either I ran out of ammunition, Wakamo ran out of steam, or Kaiser ran out of troops in its private army. I didn't want to take any chances with the latter until I was sure we could take them all out handily.
I dispatched a new wave of reinforcements, as did Wakamo. Before the next wave arrived, I hastily made my move.
Striding to the base's front gate, which was still open, I entered the base.
The support personnel and mechs that flitted around the base interior paid me little mind as they went about their business. Some headed toward the ruckus that Wakamo was cooking up outside while others handled the logistics.
Nodding my head at a passing PMC member who nodded in turn, I explored the base at a pace which was quick but not too quick. After all, one of the secrets to blending in well among an enemy force was to move like you had a purpose.
This continued for several minutes until I identified an important looking structure. While most of the fortifications here were temporary, such as tents, one made of concrete stood out. I silently dispatched the lone robotic guard with my knife, hid the bot in some shrubbery, and slipped into the building before anyone noticed the disabled guard.
I found myself in a control room of sorts. The layout was strikingly similar to the NCR's command tent at Camp Forlorn Hope, with the primary difference being the more numerous and more advanced terminals scattered about. Five PMC soldiers worked at several of these terminals, but they all turned to me once the door opened.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here!" the nearest one said accusingly to me, beginning to draw her weapon. "Who the heck let you in-"
Not answering, as that'd give me away, I instead used my machine gun to bash her in the face. I wrested her gun from her before she could recover, and hearing the other PMC members ready their guns, held the soldier around the neck using one arm, using her as an impromptu shield. The other soldiers fired, most of their shots hitting their hapless teammate, then fell as I returned fire. Releasing the now-unconscious soldier, I turned to the computers in the room.
"Arona, what do you think about these?" I asked quietly, in case anyone was listening in.
"Hmm…" she pondered. "They look military grade. They probably have the best encryption money can buy."
"Can you get anything worthwhile out of them?"
"Absolutely!" she chirped with a confidence that contrasted her previous statements. "Just give me a few seconds..."
Nodding, I let the AI do her thing while I looked around the room. On the center table was a map which designated multiple locations in the Abydos desert. The bases were designated using letters from A-Z, and the map offered no additional information beyond that. Without context, the map would be of limited use, but depending on what Arona found, it could prove useful. I wrapped up the map and stowed it in one of my pockets.
"All done!" Arona announced. "I was only able to get into the local database, since any more than that would take too much time, but…"
"It'll do. Good work," I said.
"Eheheh…"
I briefly checked my Pip-Boy. Sure enough, several files were downloaded onto the device. It was only a matter of sorting them out, then bringing the info to Abydos to coordinate our next move.
In any case, we got what we came for. Time to get the hell out of here before Kaiser began bringing in bigger guns.
An explosion relatively close by assured me that Wakamo was still in the fight. I made my way out of the building without incident, as the majority of PMC personnel were preoccupied with the explosion near the front gate.
Reaching the front gate, I noted that several parts of the wall were crumbling, seemingly by an explosive force. I soon found out why – three tanks were dispersed around the front gate, all destroyed, with the aftermath of their clash with the Fox of Calamity causing damage to the base behind them. Wakamo herself was perched on the flaming wreckage of a tank, finishing off a group of mechanized troops using a grenade launcher she presumably looted as she laughed mockingly.
"Wakamo!" I addressed once I was close to her.
Her tense posture immediately loosened, and she turned to me as she stepped off her perch. "Ah, Sensei!" she purred. "Did you see me back there? Have I met your expectations?"
I eyed the carnage surrounding the Fox of Calamity. Several dozens of PMC soldiers lay scattered, nearly all of them unconscious, but at least they were in better shape than the robotic troopers, whose parts adorned the battlefield. My inner prospector practically salivated at all the scrap metal I could have salvaged, but I knew that now wasn't a good time.
"…I'd say you damn well exceeded them," I remarked honestly, causing her ears and tail to twitch in what I assumed was happiness. Aside from myself, there were only two other people from the Wasteland, maybe three if I counted the Capital Wasteland, who I suspected would have been able to achieve similar results.
The kicker was that, aside from a few cracked areas on her mask and a thin layer of dust on her pink robes, Wakamo looked no worse for wear. Even alone, she may have stood a chance against the full might of the PMC.
Tempting as it was to sic this rabid Fox on Kaiser, I had to remind myself of what we were trying to accomplish here. Destroying the PMC entirely was not our goal; in fact, doing that may make things even worse for Abydos in the long run.
Hearing the approaching sounds of land and air vehicles, I tilted my head in the direction of the direction of our escape vehicle. "Come on, we're leaving."
"Yes, Sensei~" Wakamo acquiesced cheerily.
Once again we hopped aboard our vehicle. After some fiddling with the dashboard, the truck's engine started up, and the vehicle began flooring it in the direction closest to Abydos while Wakamo stepped away from the wheel.
Autopilot. I see. It made sense to engage autopilot now that we knew where we were going.
In the meantime, we needed to defend ourselves if we wanted to make it out of here.
Wakamo unlatched the back doors of the vehicle just in time to receive machine gun rounds to the face from a helicopter hot on our trail. She hissed and hit a button on the wall, causing an automated turret to emerge from the roof and begin returning fire on the helicopter.
Three armored vehicles started to close in on us from behind as well. I joined Wakamo near the back entrance and hoisted up the rocket launcher I pilfered earlier, which thankfully used the same ammo type as the rockets stored in our little armory, then fired a rocket at one of the vehicles. The vehicle attempted to maneuver out of the way with some success, but the side of its hull suffered enough damage to cause the vehicle to lose control and swerve off to the side. With one handled, I reloaded and prepared to disable the other two.
The helicopter teetered off to the side, smoking, from the combined firepower of Wakamo and the turret. However, her victory was short-lived, as two more helicopters closed in from opposite directions to take its place. Wakamo growled angrily and, before I could say anything, climbed out the back door.
"What the hell is she doing?" I wondered aloud, hearing her footsteps on the roof.
"Maybe she likes to feel like a raid boss?" Arona suggested.
"What's a raid boss?"
"You've never played video games before, Sensei?" the AI asked incredulously.
Deciding now was not the best time to discuss this, I focused on the vehicles in hot pursuit. I fired another rocket at one of them, damaging it, then swapped to a rifle to shoot at one of its front tires. In a stroke of good luck, the vehicle lost control and careened into the one beside it, taking both of them out of commission.
The sound of Wakamo's parasol unfurling was followed by a metallic groan as Wakamo apparently punched a hole into the fortified metal roof of our vehicle with her bare hand. Immediately after, the vehicle lurched as the force from an explosion rocked the armored truck. Piecing two and two together, I realized…
…Did she just block a rocket with a fucking parasol?
Soon after, the helicopter was downed as Wakamo used her bizarre flower ability on it, leaving only one pursuer. I couldn't hear the turret anymore, meaning that it was probably damaged in the blast, but we were still making excellent headway.
The previously bumpy trip became smoother as the tires transitioned to a pavement road. Which meant we were nearly home free; once we were back in Abydos' residential district, Kaiser couldn't pursue us further without directly antagonizing Abydos' student council.
Just as things were looking up, Arona warned, "This is bad! They've deployed road spikes ahead!"
Road spikes?
My eyes widened. The vehicle autopilot hadn't slowed, so at this rate…
Though I didn't know much about driving, I darted toward the driver seat, intent on doing something. However, it was too late. The truck groaned as it lurched once again, its previous momentum carrying it forward despite the damage to its tires. The autopilot attempted to brake, which had the unintended consequence of unbalancing the vehicle. I was sent painfully into the wall and several items flew off their racks as the vehicle was hurtled onto its side, sliding for a bit before finally coming to a complete stop.
Blinking away the dark spots in my vision, I lifted myself up from the awkward position I landed in. My arm ached but thankfully, due to the [Adamantium Skeleton] augmentations I received at the Big Empty, it'd take a bit more force than that to fracture or dislocate the bone.
The back doors, which had shut during the crash, opened slightly, and Wakamo hopped in, looking terrified.
"Sensei?!" she exclaimed worriedly, running up to me, debris crunching underneath her feet. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"Nah," I said, standing up slowly. "How about you?"
"I-I'm fine, but…" Her lip quivered. "I'm so sorry! I was so focused on what was behind us that I didn't see-"
"Don't sweat it," I cut her off before she could dip into hysterics again. True, it was unfortunate that she wouldn't be able to return this vehicle to the Pandemonium Society in this state. But we were close enough to Abydos that we could make it on foot. The only issue was…
As if on cue, Kaiser forces began to close in from all directions, followed by the sounds of guns being readied. They were accompanied by several choppers and land vehicles.
Our pursuers had caught up with us.
Fighting them off head-on would be fairly straightforward. But when they had us surrounded like this?
Time spent around Serika and Shiroko made it easier for me to pick up on certain students' body language, so I could tell from the way her ears twitched that even Wakamo seemed apprehensive. She knew as well as I did that it'd be an uphill battle.
Fortunately, such a battle was a risk that we didn't have to take.
"Wakamo."
"Yes, dear?"
"Hold out your hand," I said as I reached into one of the pouches at my side.
"My…hand?" she repeated confusedly before she gasped in realization. Once again, heat radiated through her mask as it turned a fiery red. "B-b-b-b-but… I haven't prepared my heart yet! I mean, I want to say yes, but at the same time this is so abrupt and there's a bunch of worthless pests outside and I don't want them interrupting but I don't know this is all so sudden but I've never been happier in my entire life and…"
What the hell is she even going on about?
"Oh, who am I kidding?!" Wakamo cried. "I do! I do!" She held out her hand, with particular emphasis on her ring finger.
I stared at the crazy Fox for moment before shrugging. In one quick motion, I unceremoniously slapped the Stealth Boy around her wrist.
"…Eh?" The Fox went stock still. "What's this?"
"A Stealth Boy. It'll help us sneak out of here."
"O-oh…" Wakamo's ears and tail drooped a bit. "I-I see…"
What did she think I was gonna give her? I mused before slipping on a Stealth Boy onto myself. These were only partially charged but should have enough juice to let us make it into Abydos. I'd been incredibly liberal with my Stealth Boy usage since arriving in Kivotos and thus, before I knew it, I'd gone through most of my stock. I was working on recycling them by charging their internal energy cell batteries using Schale's electricity, but it was a slower process than I'd like. And, if Yuuka's nagging was anything to go by, expensive too.
The air around us crackled as I activated the stealth fields, and I grabbed Wakamo by the other wrist, causing her to squeak in surprise. I led her out of the overturned vehicle through the ajar backdoor. My shoulders tensed as I took in the view outside – nearly a hundred foot soldiers formed a perimeter around us, and they were flanked by numerous armored transport vehicles, tanks, and a few choppers. If they had seen us, they made no indication of it.
My companion and I snuck through the perimeter, minding the caltrops on the ground and taking care not to bump into any of the PMC soldiers on our way out. Once we were a good distance away from the PMC forces, I looked back to our vehicle. Several PMC troops advanced toward the overturned vehicle with their guns drawn. Once they tentatively swung open the backdoors, I took out a detonator and squeezed the trigger, detonating the satchel charge I had placed in the explosives cache, which caused a chain explosion that engulfed the approaching PMC soldiers. Wakamo snickered as she witnessed the chaos and confusion amongst their ranks.
Now that we were a good distance away from any enemy who might hear us, we broke into a run toward sanctuary.
"Which one do you want?"
"I'll take number 9, please~"
Nodding, I pressed the number on the vending machine, then inserted a 500-yen coin when prompted. The machine let out a whir and a chute opened up on the bottom, offering a small plastic container. I picked up the container and handed it to my companion, who gratefully accepted.
Now then…
I began perusing the vending machine for myself, wondering what to get. Many of the food items sold at this vending machine were of Asian origin, so it wasn't exactly easy to tell at a glance what I'd be getting. Strangely - or perhaps I should say typically - half of the machine's catalog consisted not of food items, but of several types of ammunition and grenades. Purchasing an incendiary grenade was admittedly enticing, but I had enough weapons for now.
Shrugging, I just followed Wakamo's decision and purchased another number 9, which seemed to be some kind of rice balls with pork in the center, molded into a shape that resembled the inner part of Fuuka's halo. Retrieving my choice, I took a seat on a nearby wooden bench with Wakamo. Now that the sun had set, the area was fairly dark. The streetlamps had fallen into disrepair much like the rest of the district, and thus the only substantial illumination came from the vending machine we had just patroned.
Most places in Abydos were closed by the time we had returned on foot, so we decided to stop for a break at a vending machine, which was surprisingly well-maintained compared to the surroundings.
Kaiser probably owns it, like everything else in this district, I theorized. If this was true, then it made for a particularly humorous twist of irony that we found ourselves buying food from an organization we'd just raided.
I momentarily slid down my gas mask so I could sample a rice ball. The texture was soft, as expected, and the meaty center carried with it a slightly sweet tinge to it. Not bad.
Kivotos' vending machines didn't have as good a selection as the vending machines designed by the Think Tank, but I could say with certainty that their food was fresher.
There was a shrill sound from next to Wakamo that I recognized as a meow. A cat sidled up fearlessly to Wakamo and rubbed its side around her leg, purring.
I watched with interest, having only seen a handful of cats in-person back in California. Cats were extinct in the Mojave, or as Mr. House would have put it, they "went the way of the dodo".
"Ara? Would you like some, little one?" Wakamo asked, surprisingly gently.
The cat meowed in response.
Wakamo pinched off some of the meat from the rice ball and proffered it to the cat, who nibbled at it while Wakamo softly laughed, her unmasked features lighthearted.
"Didn't take you for an animal person," I remarked.
My companion hummed. "Animals are different from people, and yet so alike. How could I not?"
"What do you mean?"
"Animals, unlike people, are always honest about their needs and desires," she explained as she watched the cat eat. "I think people could learn to be a bit more like animals, in that respect."
"Couldn't it be said that animals can't be dishonest since it's not in their capacity to do so?" I responded. Admittedly, I didn't expect to discuss a philosophical topic like human nature with somebody like Wakamo.
"That may very well be so. But it doesn't take away from the fact that animals, for the most part, do not seek to intentionally deceive others. They are honest to themselves, to their instincts, and thus, to others."
"…I think I see what you mean." Though I didn't entirely agree with the sentiment. Animals were creatures of instinct, first and foremost. That wasn't to say that humans weren't as well, but at least humans possessed the ability to resist their natural impulses. In a place such as post-war America, where people initially defaulted to behaving like animals, it took people overcoming such impulses and regaining their civility to rebuild society.
And to see what became of people who had shed their ability to reason and operated solely on instinct, one merely needed to look at Feral Ghouls.
The cat looked up at Wakamo, as if to ask for more. Wakamo tittered. "Here, Sensei. Why not give it a try?"
"Don't see why not." I pinched off a bit of pork and tentatively held it out for the cat. The cat's hair stood on end as it hissed at me, causing me to frown slightly. I'd never been much of an [Animal Friend], to be fair.
"Hey now, don't be rude," Wakamo chastised, reaching behind its head to scratch it behind the ear. The cat instantly forgot about me and went back to purring contentedly.
A gunshot close by caused us both to tense while the cat ran away. Sounded like a shotgun. I quickly stood up, searching for the source. Several more gunshots – automatic rifle fire – were punctuated by some more shotgun fire. Drawing my own weapon, I made my way to the source, Wakamo following.
Could it be Kaiser? Helmet Gang?
Rounding the corner, I readied my gun, expecting a firefight, only to come across an urban area littered with the unconscious bodies of delinquents. Judging from the spent casings and the superficial injuries on the delinquents, it was obvious a skirmish took place here.
Inspecting the surroundings further, I noticed the windows of nearby buildings were shattered, and recently used spraypaint cans rested adjacent to half-finished graffiti, leading me to believe that the thugs were in the midst of vandalizing the area when they got into a fight. But why, and with whom?
I knelt down and picked up some of the spent casings around the area. Standard 5.56mm and 5mm rounds were predominant. My eyes widened as I instantly recognized the third type of ammunition casings. I smiled and shook my head.
After all, it was hard to forget how ammunition you crafted yourself looked.
"What's wrong, Sensei?" Wakamo asked, peering over my shoulder. "Do you recognize something?"
"Yeah."
She tightened her grip on her rifle. "Shall we find them, then?"
"No, I don't think that'll be necessary," I said, earning a confused look from my companion.
So that's why she's sleepy all the time, huh? I thought humoredly as I turned the hand loaded shell casing in my hand.
Standing up, I turned to Wakamo. "Great work today. I think we should part ways for now, though."
Wakamo brightened at the praise but nonetheless asked, "Are you sure? This place isn't safe this late at night…"
On the contrary, I think it is.
"I'm sure. I'm going to call a chopper, so I won't be here long anyway."
Upon hearing my response, Wakamo bowed her head lightly and smiled warmly. "Then I thank you for today, Sensei."
"Of course."
"So, when's our next date?"
I froze. "Pardon?"
"Well, this was just our first one, right? There are many more places to sightsee and terrorize…" She wrung her hands anxiously. "Unless you were unhappy with how I did today?"
Actually, I'd say you were pretty damn effective…
"Not at all," I replied. But thinking about the uncertainty of the coming days, I deemed it best not to make promises I couldn't keep. "I don't know when I'll be free next, so how about I give you my phone number? Might need your help in the future." Or very soon, more than likely.
Wakamo's eyes practically sparkled, though there was a crazed tinge to them that I found unsettling. "Yes! I would love that!"
Was there some weird cultural implication about exchanging phone numbers I wasn't aware of? Nonomi found it funny that Yuuka left her phone number on this device, and Serika later berated Nonomi for giving hers to me. Personally, I didn't see why they all acted that way – wasn't exchanging numbers just to further means of communication, like exchanging mail addresses?
Once that was finished, Wakamo turned to leave. "By the way, Sensei…" she said.
"Yes?"
"Sorry I won't be able to return what I stole…" Wakamo said, with what seemed to be the faintest hint of mischievousness in her eyes.
Oh, that. I couldn't exactly chastise her for that anymore, since it wasn't her fault that she wasn't able to return it. Hell, I even shared part of the blame for blowing it up. But it was that or frame the Pandemonium Society for an attack on a private corporation – I'd rather not give Hina more headaches to deal with if I could help it.
Sighing, I said, "Okay, change of plans. You're going to write an apology letter and you're going to leave it right where you stole from. Got it?"
"Okay~" Wakamo grinned blithely.
Eyeing her expression, I felt the need to add, "And you're going to mean it, right?"
"Yes! I'm very sorry~" she exclaimed, but it seemed that she was just so happy about today's events that she couldn't even muster an ounce of remorse.
Leaving it at that, I watched her depart with a pep in her step.
Thinking back on the Fox, it was reassuring to have somebody as strong as Wakamo on my side. But the prospect of more students like her existing was slightly worrisome.
I wasn't so naïve to believe that every student here would be on my side. Sooner or later, one or more students intent on taking my life may surface. And with the logic-defying abilities some students appeared to have, it was hard to predict how such battles may pan out.
But I wouldn't be caught unaware. After all, Kivotos wasn't the only one with cards it had yet to play.
A ping from nowhere startled me, and I withdrew my phone. My brow furrowed in confusion as I saw the receipt of a message from Wakamo.
"Sensei."
"Is something wrong?" I typed.
"Nothing, just wanted to text you. Goodnight, XOXO~"
Utterly perplexed by the last part of the message, I put away the phone, deciding that was enough Fox for today.
Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to give out my phone information next time.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Kivotos' own Casanova," Arona remarked, holding a hand in front of her mouth to obscure her mischievous smile.
"Yup, that's me," Sensei said blandly and sighed as he took a seat at one of the classroom desks. The contrast in size between the man and the student-sized desk was something Arona found particularly funny, but she kept it to herself for now.
"Rough day?" the AI asked as she scampered over to him, holding her gunbrella, as Sensei liked to call it, behind her back.
"Meh. About average. Actually, I'd go as far to say that it feels good to travel around again."
"You did a lot of traveling before?"
"Oh, yeah. Believe it or not, I was a courier before all this."
"A courier?" A light bulb went off in her head as she raised an index finger. "Ah! You mean a mailman!"
"Not a mailman, a courier," Sensei corrected, looking none too pleased at her conflating the two professions.
"They're the same thing, aren't they?" Arona asked confusedly.
"No. A mailman usually makes deliveries on behalf of a public postal service while a courier makes deliveries on behalf of private entities or businesses."
"But they both handle mail," Arona pointed out.
"Not exclusively, but yes."
"So they're both mailmen!" Arona smugly concluded.
Sensei rolled his eyes, still clearly unhappy with Arona's conclusion but unwilling to argue the point further. "Sure. Let's go with that."
After taking a moment to bask in her victory, Arona grabbed a desk and scooted it over to connect with Sensei's. She then took a seat next to him.
"You've really been busy the past few days, huh?" she stated conversationally. "At least for now you can take it easy."
"Only for a bit. Got stuff to do."
"Stuff to do, this late at night?" Arona sternly regarded Sensei. "You're still gonna work on your projects in the Sink?"
"Finishing touches, mostly. But yes."
Arona sighed. Frankly, she had no idea how Sensei hadn't collapsed from exhaustion yet. He assured her that he only needed the bare minimum in sleep due to physiological alterations made to his body, but this went beyond just terrible sleeping habits.
The man was constantly moving – whether it was assisting Abydos, instructing students like he had been doing with Kirino and Fubuki (to the latter's dismay) lately, or doing his share of the GSC's governance. Even in his spare time, he hadn't wasted a single moment as he devoted sizable time and resources to the various projects he had hoarded in the Sink.
Arona hadn't known Sensei for very long, but it was easy to figure out that Sensei just didn't like staying put. Not that this was entirely a bad thing, mind – the hijinks Sensei commonly gotten himself into provided no end of entertainment for Arona.
Even so, as Sensei's trusty secretary, Arona had to do her part in helping manage Sensei's health. She couldn't be outdone by Yuuka and the others.
It was a fool's errand to try and convince him when he was dead set on something, so Arona figured she may as well continue assisting wherever she could. "Is there any way I can help?" she asked.
"Hmm…" Sensei pondered. "Well, Yuuka helped with the weapon calibrations already, so most of the remaining work is physical."
"Ah…" Physical work wasn't an area in which Arona could meaningfully contribute, due to her being confined to the tablet. Honestly, even on the digital side, she'd be hard-pressed to assist with programming, since RobCo Termlink protocol was something she was still very new to. Plus, even if she got past the initial hurdle of what was essentially learning a new programming language, she was still woefully underequipped experience-wise for the task of AI programming, which was one of the things Sensei was preoccupied with.
Eyeing her sobered expression, Sensei patted her on the head encouragingly. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance very soon."
Arona assumed that he was referring to his plan for an assault on Abydos desert. She wasn't privy to the entire plan, but Sensei was likely insinuating that it involved him getting shot a lot, hence her "chance".
"I can do a lot more than block bullets, you know!" she replied indignantly, lightly elbowing him in the arm.
"That so?" Sensei tilted his head at her, his eyes glinting with interest. "There's more things you can do besides hacking and shield generation?"
"Of course! Don't underestimate this OS!" Arona curled her biceps in a simulacrum of Vault Boy showing off his [Strength].
"Let's hear them then," Sensei said, listening intently.
"Well…" Arona brought a finger to her cheek. "I can draw, as you saw earlier."
"Okay…" He motioned for her to go on.
"I can also sing. Oh, and I can cook too! Probably not as good as Fuuka, but still! I make a mean hotdog!" Arona proudly stated.
Sensei's features scrunched up, as if that wasn't quite what he meant by "more things". Maybe he should have been more specific then, Arona thought.
"Wait," Sensei stopped, as if he had just realized something. "How do you cook?"
"With some oil, a pinch of salt, and…"
The blue-clad man smacked his forehead. "No, I meant how you cook here. As in, using what? Do you burn the desks for fuel or something?"
Arona looked at him as if he were simple. "No… Didn't you see the stove on your way in?"
"Stove? There's no stove in here, it's just a classroom."
Arona pointed to one corner of the classroom, and Sensei did a double take.
"What the hell? That wasn't there before!" he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes as if to make sure the object was really there. Sure enough, a traditional stovetop with an oven sat in the corner of the classroom.
Arona snickered at Sensei's flabbergasted expression. She left the desk and strode over to the stove. "How do you like your hotdogs, Sensei?" Arona asked. "Boiled or pan fried?"
Sensei arched a brow. "I just ate."
"Ah, but that was your physical body," Arona claimed, wagging a finger.
"…Isn't that the only one which needs to eat?"
"Nope!" she replied. "You need food for your soul as well."
"I highly doubt that this is my soul you're talking to," Sensei responded blandly.
Arona pouted. "Hush and answer the question. Boiled or pan fried?"
"Uh…" Sensei still seemed confused, but nonetheless replied, "Surprise me."
Arona nodded sagely. Both, then. Both is good.
Arona grabbed the black pot on the stovetop and bent down, scooping up some water from the submerged classroom floor, then replaced the pot onto the stove. She switched on the heat and began to boil the water, which'd be enough to kill any nasty germs from the ground, not that those were a concern in the Shittim Chest. Next, she grabbed a cast iron skillet, filled it with a tiny amount of water, and reached into her fridge for the sausages. Sensei recoiled at the sight of the fridge, as if it wasn't there before either (it wasn't). Arona put four sausages into the pot and skillet, two for each, and set the skillet down next to the pot.
"You can conjure items into the Shittim Chest, huh?" Sensei concluded while the sausages cooked.
"Yup!" Arona happily said as she turned a sausage over.
"How does it work?" he asked curiously.
"You know, I haven't really given it much thought about it myself," Arona conceded. "I just kinda think things, and they happen."
"So there's no limits to this ability?"
"Not exactly," she answered. "More complex things take more time to recreate, like machinery and stuff."
"What about my things? Could you bring those in?"
Arona hummed. It should be possible, but… "I haven't tried. Why?"
"I want my gear."
"Ehh…?" Arona was slightly confused. "Why would you even need it in here? You're virtual."
"I know, but I feel a bit naked in just a jumpsuit."
Arona couldn't say she understood the feeling. That jumpsuit looked pretty cozy to her. But Sensei was pretty averse to the idea of going anywhere without his gear when she brought it up in the past, so maybe the reason was psychological.
"Hmm… You sure? I kinda like the blue jumpsuit, it fits with the blue aesthetic around here," Arona remarked.
"I'm sure."
That made Arona somewhat sad, but if that was what he wanted… Or maybe she could recreate the jumpsuit so she could wear it herself! It was a bit of a tacky shade, but blue was blue.
"I guess I can try."
Arona pondered how she'd go about replicating Sensei's items in virtual space. She was well familiarized with his standard attire by now, so she could just recreate it from memory and apply it to Sensei's virtual body like one would a texture.
Then she realized that she didn't need to. After all, the Pip-Boy kept a detailed 3D archive of every item in Sensei's possession, and even items that had been registered in the past that he wasn't currently carrying. It was just a matter of formatting the Termlink data to her OS, a task which, while initially cumbersome, she was gradually growing more proficient at.
After taking a moment to flip the sausages on the skillet so they didn't get burnt, Arona briefly jumped to Sensei's Pip-Boy to grab the data she needed, then reappeared before Sensei. Nodding to herself as she formatted and double-checked the data, she waved a hand in front of Sensei, and the span of a blink of an eye he was wearing an exact representation of his favorite attire, down to the most minute groove and nick. "Ta-da!"
Sensei looked down at himself, somewhat awed by the trick. "Not too shabby," he complimented as he felt the fabric, evidently impressed by the accuracy of the recreation.
Arona beamed at him. She was glad that Sensei was satisfied with her handiwork, even though she only recreated his armor and coat, not weapons. Creating emulations of his weapons that would actually be functional in virtual space would have taken a lot more time, especially considering how many of those things he had.
Regardless, the point was moot – there was no safer digital space than the Shittim Chest. Arona couldn't imagine a situation in which he'd actually have to use any of that virtual equipment.
The wonderful smell of cooked hot dogs wafted through the classroom. Now that they were ready, Arona grabbed a pair of tongs and placed the sausages into buns and onto two plates. After loading them with a prodigious amount of ketchup, she carried the plates to the desks and set them down. With her hands free, she scampered back to the fridge and withdrew a pair of Sunset Sarsaparillas, bringing them to the desk as well. "All done! Let's dig in!" she said as she sat down next to him.
Sensei stared at the food and the sarsaparilla like they were going to attack him. Tentatively, he tried both, his confusion merely amplifying.
"Somethingf fwrong?" Arona asked in between bites.
"No. The food's good and the Sass tastes like it should. But how does that even work?"
Arona downed some sarsaparilla, sighing contentedly. Hina was right – it is good. "What do you mean?"
"How are we able to taste food in here if it's virtual?"
"Maybe it works off of your memory?"
"If that's the case, then how do you know what hot dogs taste like if you've always been virtual?"
Arona slowly cocked her head at that. Now that she thought about it, he raised a good point. But she wasn't about to complain about it, either. "Dunno!" She shrugged. After a few moments, Arona abandoned the troublesome line of questioning entirely, asking, "So, now that you've had both: boiled or pan-fried?"
"Gotta say pan-fried."
"Right? I agree! But it's not good to fry everything all the time. It's just not healthy."
"Why not?"
"It has more calories, duh!"
Sensei squinted at her. "Can you even get fat? You're an AI."
"How…" Arona started indignantly. "How could you say that to a lady?! Do you have no soul?!"
"According to you, my soul is right here."
Arona kicked him in the shin, and he laughed.