Chapter 10—Begin Again.
"Arona…" So, that's your name.
Alright, I've learned something new today. Not a ghost. This kid that was watching me all day isn't a ghost or spirit haunting me. Either way, it makes sense since I remember hearing ghost haunt people that did them wrong — which I have no connection to her.
Apparently, she's some sophisticated artificial intelligence that was originally from the Shittim Chest. So that's one theory right.
"And Arona, can you tell me why are you out of your Shittim Chest? On account of you're supposed to be it's A.I and you're not inside of it?" The hundred cap question. It's like opening a book only to find the pages are blank. How did she get out, exactly?
Then, if she got out, such is it a bad thing?
"Well… when you opened the Shittim Chest, it also awakened me from my sleep." Don't tell me… "I was curious of a unknown connection and I was about to investigate it, but… I ended up essentially…" I watch her pause — looking somewhere else as if she's thinking the right words to say. "Inside of you… Or your head."
That… Sounded bad. I blinked at the girl to explain how she had just entered my head. She looked weirded out, as I was almost at the point of losing my said head. I lowered my gaze to my Pip-Boy. A shadow passed through my mind, prompting an instinctive withdrawal. Just in case, I better lock her out of parts of my head — the ones where she doesn't need to see. Memories.. The thought came laden with the weight of years spent in desolation.
The sting of rad-poisoned water that scorched my throat but kept thirst at bay another day, the endless maze of twisted metal and concrete to a wasteland of dunes, tundras and growing irradiated forests that had once been civilization, now standing as silent witnesses to a world that died.
When humanity was supposed to grow closer to each other with the new threat to the world, they put themselves in — none of it mattered, as it was survival in the end. Despite the few outliers of attempts at civilization could never match the decaying posters of the old-world glory that hang by the remaining build-boards that are left standing.
Mocking any passerby of a world they knew nothing about, but tease them of a better society than theirs will ever attempt to amount for something.
These fragments of my past needed to stay locked away.
There was no need to tell others of fate that they were alien to the idea. Survival? Not here, Kivotos has everything covered for you.
A prospering city — regardless of its problem — is leagues better than what the NCR is capable of. Why tell the fate of my experience to these people? Better to lock them deep away from Arona.
So far, she didn't look suspicious. Better yet, she suspects me from first impression.
"Erm… Mister Thirteen."
"Hm?"
"Are you perhaps… Sensei?"
"Ah, right… Yes. I am a Sensei. A teacher or whatever you want to call it."
"I'm sorry, again."
"Stop apologizing, Arona. I am not even mad at you. Maybe proud that you don't trust strangers easily, especially when you find them crying in the toilet. The kind of proud a teacher has for their student."
Her lips quivered slightly, but she managed a smile. "Thank you, Sensei! Also, Sensei."
"Yes, Kid?"
Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her jacket, a habit of hers whenever she was about to ask for something uncomfortable. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"If it's alright with you…" she began hesitantly, her gaze darting nervously between me and the floor.
I gave her a small nod of encouragement. She looked like she's asking for permission to continue.
"Your system inside your head is outdated… Erm, the code is a jumbled up, and the architecture of the O.S. is not optimized — also outdated, if I wanted to be clear. The… place is a mess. I tripped several times trying to cross one room to another." Talking like my head is a house or something… "Sensei, when have you ever cleaned your storage bank?"
I stared at her for a moment, taken aback. A mess? The bluntness of her words caught me off guard, though I suppose I should've expected it. Subtlety wasn't Arona's strong suit. Then again, most kids aren't the subtle type unless their street urchins from the big cities then subtly are a must survive. Petty pick-pockets.
Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe I'll bring a broom next time and clean my implants when spring cleaning comes.
"I'm… not sure I follow here," I replied, trying to maintain a semblance of understanding. Which isn't exactly a lot. This whole analogy Arona is implying isn't sticking with me. "Arona, I'm not in a capable position to just mess around with the machine in my body, especially my head. I'm not knowledgeable enough to tinker with it… or risk my life even attempting to change anything inside. Probably dangerous to change anything even."
"But, but!" she protested, her voice rising in pitch as her enthusiasm overtook her nerves. "I can help you clean it up and optimize your RAM usage! And, and I can even update your O.S.!"
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her eagerness. The words "optimize" and "update" sounded suspiciously like an invitation to chaos. A self-learning A.I. with already personality — Or a mask to hide itself behind tinkering the hardware in my body… What a bad idea I was going to create,
"Interesting…" I muttered, more to myself than her.
She beamed at the tiny spark of interest I'd shown, her earlier hesitance completely forgotten. "Don't fear, Sensei! As your loyal assistant, I will handle upgrading your old hardware!"
With those words, she straightened her posture, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Her hands rested on her hips in what I could only describe as a triumphant, almost heroic stance. It was the pose you'd expect from someone declaring victory before even stepping onto the battlefield. She even tilted her chin upward slightly to stare up towards me.
. I studied her for a moment, one eyebrow raised, a mix of amusement and mild concern.
Her words hung in the air for a beat, and despite my initial reluctance, I felt a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. This kid, I thought, shaking my head ever so slightly. There was something undeniably infectious about her energy, even if it teetered on the edge of recklessness.
The memory of that prison cell haunts me even now. Cold metal walls, automated systems watching my every move through cameras mounted on walls and ceilings — it's been a long year since I learned the truth, but the revelation still makes my skin crawl.
An A.I had been the one pulling the strings, calculating and executing my imprisonment with mechanical precision. You heard it there… A machine imprisoned a human.
I rub my wrists, a habit I've developed since then. The ghost of those restraints lingers, a phantom weight that reminds me of how easily I was manipulated. The logical part of my brain knows Robot City is different. I've met other AIs here, watched them interact, work, and even show something akin to compassion.
But Arona… Can I truly trust her? After what happened in that cell…
I trust A.I like how I trust some fresh recruit to brew me a coffee, not give them the scalpel to remove a bullet lodged near my heart after a gunfight gone far against my Luck.
She moves and speaks with such natural grace that sometimes I almost forget. Then I'll catch a glimpse of her processing something, that brief flicker in her eyes, and I'm right back in that prison. Different hardware, different software — they're all the same in the end. The thought circles in my mind like a vulture, refusing to leave.
I may call the artificial intelligences of Robot City friends, but not the prison walls, the metal-bars and energy walls to block halls. The crippling loneliness — only hearing the distant screams of others like me who weren't so lucky. That never leaves you.
Ladies and gentlemen — God's most hilarious joke right here.
"Still, it's cool to see," she added after a brief pause, her earlier excitement softening into something more genuine. Her eyes gleamed. "You're like a cyborg or something."
Her gaze lingered on me, a mix of admiration and curiosity shining in her expression. I shifted slightly under the weight of her words, unsure whether to be flattered or mildly uncomfortable.
"An assistant?"
"Uh-huh! As the manager inside the Shittim Chest, I… wait, you don't know?" Arona paused her triumphant pose to turn her head to me.
"Well, I wouldn't be here asking you." I thought about Rin. How she handed the tablet to me on the off-chance I managed to open it.
The office air grew heavy with the weight of revelation as he spoke. "Right, Right… I was handed the tablet after I accepted my position as a teacher. The General Student Council hoped I could opened you up — probably after several attempts that they just handed me the tablet and hoped for the best."
"Well, their hope was well placed." Arona's voice carried a note of pride that seemed almost too bright for the moment.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. They handed you to me when everyone else failed. I'm like the least likely shot they have." The words emerged tinged with self-deprecation. "The last option when all other more experienced didn't — so let's toss it to the least likely moron could."
Arona's features pulled into a frown, her digital expression as real as any human's disappointment.
More minutes flew by quickly as I rambled on, with Arona lending an ear to every word that ran out of my mouth. I recounted the countless fights that had erupted across the city, describing the moments when weapons were aimed at me, seemingly from every direction. It was no surprise that this constant danger would make anyone feel on edge. Along the tank that rolled down a busy commercial street and the whirly-bird that followed.
Then also mentioning of the missing GSC President, who played a crucial role in the city with no clear instruction on what to do next.
"So… a lot has happened. First, the student council president went missing. Now, the Sanctum tower laid dormant because of her disappearance also took the knowledge how to even unlock it."
"That was the gist of what I was told. There's probably more to the disappearance, especially how or why it happened. But they'll likely leave me out of that case until they absolutely have to include me. You're the only other one who I was told could take control of the tower, but nobody could open and see that chest of yours-"
"Sensei!" I hummed shortly after; my eyes wandered back to the tablet of Arona's loud voice. I admit I am confused at her reaction being red all of the sudden.
"What?"
"Please choose your words properly!"
"What for? Alright. Shittim chest. Happy?" I answered. "Not even a chest with treasure anyway"
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. But right I need you're help — the GSC vice president told me after the president's disappearance. Many types of hell broke loose on the streets. Then the Sanctum Tower had its system locked after the disappearance which further rendered the GSC crippled to do much in the chaos."
"You need me to open the Sanctum Tower's system back online for you?"
"Yeah… That's the part I understand — Only you can turn it back online."
"I'm sorry if you had to work all your way to see me. Understand that I have lots of data stored about Kivotos, but for who the GSC president is, why or how she vanished. I have nothing regarding her much, unfortunately."
I gestured with a small wave of my hand for Arona to calm down. "The president thing could wait, the tower won't," I assured her, emphasizing the urgency of activating the tower to get this city back in working order. "There's nothing to beat yourself up over. It was practically easy for me to get you to open your systems — albeit too long waiting on; and finding the president isn't really part of my job description. She chose to part ways, it is her deal. She'll have to live with her choices."
"Whether in regret or relief for her - We'll most likely not find out." I ended with that note.
A part of me didn't really expect this president to come back. Hell, I can't blame her for wanting to escape the madness and just get away from it all, like a bad hangover.
"Oh, I get it… I can at least respect her decision if it's what she wants."
I stayed silent for a short while as Arona began humming. With closed eyes, she nodded her head to the tune while she did her thing.
Arona stood beside me, quiet, her translucent, digital form shimmering faintly in the low light. Her glow cast faint, shifting patterns on the metallic floor, giving her an almost ethereal presence.
"Well, before we start…" She looked down wide-eyed. "I have to take a biological authentication — a fingerprint scan first,"
She fidgeted, tugging at the hem of her uniform, an unusual gesture for someone—or something—so composed. Her hesitant cough broke the stillness.
Until I joined in breaking it. "A fingerprint scan? Really?"
"I know, I know… This is just… The way, you know? Devices are nowadays open to touch controls to turn on…" she sputtered, embarrassed and all red on the cheeks.
"But you are already." I said, my tone matter-of-fact, my gaze unwavering as I studied her. The words left my mouth before I could stop them, my observation cutting through her carefully maintained protocol. I watched as my statement sent ripples through her translucent form, her digital presence wavering like disturbed water.
She shifted under my scrutiny, her digital form flickering faintly, as if betraying her discomfort. For an A.I, she could be remarkably expressive. I wonder which personality she copied it from. Or better yet… If this is a Calculator type of A.I. — Then where is the brain she's getting it on with?
"Let me speak, geez! You're not making this easier by talking. Uhm…"
She trailed off, straightening herself in a visible attempt to regain her composure. Her translucent figure steadied, the flickering light smoothing out as she focused. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her index finger, holding it out toward me. A soft blue glow emanated from the tip, the light swirling faintly, like a digital fingerprint made manifest.
"This is just a normal procedure," she explained, her tone quieter now, though still carrying a hint of her earlier flustered energy. "But, think of it as formality's sake."
I raised an eyebrow at that, but I kept my thoughts to myself. The sanctum tower loomed ahead of us, its presence oppressive yet oddly calming, like a sleeping giant waiting to awaken. Its security systems remained dormant, silent and unyielding, watching us through invisible eyes.
Well, not like I could hurt myself.
"… I'll follow you then," I replied after a pause, my voice steady, though laced with a faint trace of resignation. "Sure."
As I lifted my hand, the contrast between us struck me - my solid flesh against her ethereal presence.
The instant my index finger touched hers, a faint spark of digital energy rippled outward from the connection. Huh? I feel something. Like this hologram is real and I could feel her finger. Tiny motes of light scattered like stardust, briefly illuminating my office with a soft glow.
"Uuuoh… This is a bit embarrassing…" I heard murmuring from Arona.
Arona's nod preceded a transformation. Her face tightened, eyes clenched shut, expression hardening into something between concentration and restraint—like a child fighting back a storm of emotions. The air in the office seemed to thicken as her blue circlet halo began to change, its smooth edges morphing into sharp, jagged protrusions tinged with an otherworldly green. The sight held him transfixed—such a transformation had never occurred before in his presence.
Minutes stretched by until the halo settled back into its familiar form. Beyond the office window, the Sanctum Tower commanded the skyline, its silhouette stark against the afternoon sky. As if responding to some unseen signal, the beacon atop the tower intensified, its light piercing through the day with renewed vigor. The brightness seemed to pulse, sending waves of luminescence across the campus grounds, each pulse a heartbeat of restored power.
That's another job well done.
"There, all done, Sensei!" Sensei!" Arona declared, her voice carrying a note of pride. She stepped back slightly, her translucent form taking more form. Almost no longer translucent now that the Sanctum Tower is active.
I blinked, adjusting to the sudden influx of information streaming across my vision. The new data overlays painted themselves across my field of view, creating intricate patterns of light and information that seemed to dance in the air.
"Great work. Huh, why am I seeing new HUDS about the Sanctum Tower?"
My question hung in the air as Arona's form shifted slightly, her digital manifestation taking on a more formal posture. The tower's ambient hum provided a steady backdrop to our conversation, its ancient systems now fully awakened.
"Well, I am not it's controller, i'm just it's caretaker. Someone needs to take control of the tower itself."
The weight of her words settled over me like a heavy cloak. Through the translucent displays, I could see the vast complexity of the tower's systems unfurling before my eyes.
"And you gave it to me…"
"Uh-huh. Well, the president from my records is supposed to have full control — but she is absent and well…"
I sighed, my shoulders tensing slightly.
The control interfaces continued to expand in my vision, each new layer revealing more of the tower's intricate systems. Such my brain can't even understand, really. Entrusting me with control felt like putting a toddler at the helm of a nuclear reactor plant.
"Ahh… Just send it to the GSC under the Vice President, Rin Nanagami." The words left my mouth with certainty, even as the tower's systems continued their silent dance around us. Arona's form flickered with what seemed like concern, her digital features showing traces of hesitation.
Arona blinked in surprise, her glow dimming for a moment as she processed my request. "Are you sure, Sensei? This is a real—"
"Eh, I'm sure Rin has more knowledge how to run it better than me. Besides, she's the one who gave me the job as a Sensei. She knows what she's doing."
The confidence in my voice echoed off the tower's walls. Around us, the air seemed to ripple as data streams began to shift and realign themselves. Arona's presence dimmed slightly as she processed the command, her form becoming more focused and precise.
"I… understood, Sensei," she said after a brief hesitation. Her digital form straightened, her expression softening into one of compliance. "Transferring control protocols active."
The tower's systems pulsed with renewed energy, streams of light and data cascading through the air like a digital waterfall. Each transfer protocol lit up the surrounding space with brief flashes of blue and white. Lines of code and security prompts flashed briefly across the glowing HUD in my vision before disappearing as quickly as they appeared.
"Transfer complete, Nanagami Rin has now full control of the Sanctum Tower!"
Relief colored her announcement, the successful transfer bringing a brightness back to her digital form. The HUDs in my vision simplified many of the complex control interfaces fading away like morning mist.
"Good work, kid."
I reached out, my hand passing through the space where her head would be in a gesture of a job well done. The motion sent ripples through her digital form, distorting her image momentarily before it settled back into clarity.
Huh, she really acts like a kid too…
"So, Sensei. What about it?"
I turn my gaze back to her. What?
"You need me to upgrade your hardwares? I could also take a look at this strange device you put around your wrist… Like a phone or something. Except bigger… And looks bulkier to carry…" Arona said as she trailed off on her words, leaning close to the top of my desk to see where it rests of my Lil-Pip-Boy.
—
The next few days later. I finally got around to travel farther around Schale Club's building.
Those were tough days. A lot of those times consisted of nothing but of work I got around to finishing. Yuuka never made it easier or me — Rin, especially when word reached her of Yuuka's assessment of my work being almost led me to signing a scam using public funds. The eyes they kept over me were hell — but the prospect of pay made me go through my work regardless of the headaches.
Though recently, being cooped up in a building wasn't cutting it.
Sure, the place has communal showers and lounge that's stocked with stuff to occupy and numb the brain until it's needed to function once more. An indoor shooting range spent most of my time there. A strange place called an arcade with games that are definitely more advance than snake.
A mess hall and more I haven't checked due to my interest in the boring or alien-sounding names labeled for the room, lessened the incentive to investigate.
"Sensei… did you… did you get anything interesting?" Sounding from behind me is Arona, sounding unsure.
Right now, it just so happens I stumbled upon a dumpster beside an electronic store selling those devices like Shittim Chest, but then with a smaller variant.
Smartphone is what they call them. They were certainly less cumbersome to carry compared to the Pip-Boy.
On the matter with me being elbows deep in trash, it's an obvious thing - at least to someone like me. The alley stretches with dumpsters before me like a prospector's paradise. All by this electronic shop. This place is my personal haven for electronic chips and circuit boards, a goldmine hidden beneath layers of consumer waste.
I dig through another promising pile, my worn gloves brushing aside food wrappers and broken plastics. But I know what I'm looking for. Circuits and components, such rare and advanced micro-processor chips which I only saw on high-end robots and machinery and even then it's rare to even stumble upon one, all tossed away with no regard to a faulty solder or chip, lie scattered throughout this mechanical graveyard. Some are barely used, victims of tossed out by the untrained eye or simple user frustration.
More than anything. Got me a fortune… I mused in my mind.
"Those?…" Arona cocked a brow. "Sensei… You don't need to scour trash to get by — you already got a job that pays."
What? No! I'm not reselling these… Well, not as scrap just yet. Arona, you need to learn that any junk might just be having some use. You just never know without checking.
Regarding why I haven't been engaging in verbal conversations with Arona and have instead relied on my thoughts to communicate with her…
A few days earlier back at Schale Club building…
"Woah… Sensei, what are those?"
The mason jar caught the light, revealing a miniature ecosystem of extraordinary creatures. Tiny, iridescent bodies scuttled across a carefully constructed micro-terrain of moss, copper wire fragments, and what looked like l.e.d lights used in New Reno or the Den. Each beetle crawling around, leaving trailing threads of blue-white electricity that danced between their exoskeletal segments.
"Ah, this? They're beetles. Electric beetles. They're a… special species I found. They rely on electricity or photosynthesis to survive. I keep 'em around because they have their different uses. Besides a good night-light."
I watched Arona's eyes widen, tracking the intricate dance of the beetles. Unlike typical bioluminescent insects, these creatures didn't just glow - they pulsed with an inner electric current. Their carapaces gleamed like polished copper, with fine, hair-thin conductors running along their segmented bodies. Some crawled in tight circles, generating tiny arcs of electricity that sparked between them, creating a living, breathing electrical network.
Arona wowed at the sight like fireflies that stay on the ground.
"Can I…" Place them in your hands?
"Remember, Arona, just because they're cute doesn't mean they're harmless. They are still electric — means you'll get a mean shock." I noted. Before mentioning. "Like a certain blue haired kid that did the same to me."
The beetles continued their intricate dance, some clustering near small copper contacts I'd strategically placed in the jar. They seemed to communicate through brief electrical pulses, a language of sparks and static that held its own mysterious complexity.
"Okay okay, I get it, Sensei. Stop, I'm sorry already." Arona huffed.
"Hahaha, of course, of course. Just pulling yer leg." I laughed.
Right now, I brought some stuff along to my office to spruce up the place. The mason jar of electric beetles would make an interesting addition, a living piece of technological wonder that defied conventional understanding of life and electricity.
"Though, these little guys are tamed. They won't hurt ya' beside a few minor shocks as their way to communicate."
"Now, what do you think I should hang up on this rack here?" Arona wondered as I said, asking for her opinion as I pulled out a Barret Fifty Caliber sniper or a Gewehr 11.
"Hmmm…" Arona pinched her chin as she narrowed her eyes between the two options I laid out for her.
…
Unknown to the duo, especially Thirteen, there was a small group clustered at the entrance of his office door, their bodies pressed close, ears straining against the metal frame. Students with curiosity and concern, each leaning in with a different mixture of apprehension and intrigue.
What's worse is that they're justified in their clandestine observation. Their teacher appeared to be conversing with an absence — no secondary voice responded to his words, no companion echoed his statements. In short, their teacher was talking to himself, or so it seemed.
"Wait, I think I heard something like this before… I think Sensei is going senile…"
"Should… Should we call Miss Rin?"
"Just to be safe, yes."
"I call dibs in washing Sensei's back!"
"Oh no, you don't!"
Thank god, I made up some stupid excuse about learning how to talk to children. God, that was close…
The city's many important arteries that are their many commercial districts slowly dissolved behind me, its unending sight of neon signs and rushing traffic bleeding into a softer urban landscape. Streetlights flickered to life one by one, casting amber pools against the cooling pavement. Walking along the street, I transitioned from the electric pulse of commercial streets to a subtler rhythm.
Suburban houses emerged, their silhouettes softening in the approaching twilight. Few lights punctuated windows - most homes settled into the evening's quiet embrace. Residential blocks stretched out, a patchwork of architectural anonymity. Manicured lawns blended into one another, creating a uniform landscape designed for invisible belonging.
The sunset painted the sky in muted watercolor tones - deep oranges bleeding into soft purples, then gradually surrendering to the night's indigo depth. Distant sounds reduced to minimal whispers: a dog's far-off bark, the occasional rustle of evening breeze through the trees, the mechanical hum of a distant air conditioning unit.
"This must be it…" I mumbled to myself. What did I do to deserve such luxury… My own place. Not a room. A house. A nice one. Not exactly my cabin in the woods as I'd like, but… the neighborhood around here is quiet enough for me. A simple two-story house. Comes with a front and back lawn and, as for privacy to separate me from the streets, is rows of wooden fence.
A quaint house stood before me. Perfect. Nothing too conspicuous to grab attention; just another dwelling in a row of meticulously similar residences. Architectural conformity was my current camouflage, anonymity my most reliable protection.
It was nice for Rin to include a package of a house as part of my employment, or that it would look bad for the GSC if word ever came out that Sensei sleeps in his office or the mess hall. Either way, the package with the keys and the directions arrived, and it took a while to have the necessities stocked up curtesy from GSC and herself.
I open the small metal gate with a key from a package Rin sent me. The gate's hinges emit a soft, restrained squeak from the scrape of the metal hinges. Another key pulled out for the front door, its cool metal surface a tactile reminder of my carefully orchestrated arrival.
"Hm… So, what do you think, kid?"
Being the childlike wonder that Arona has beside being an A.I attached to the city — she walked passed beside me to look closer at the place. Well, it's a bit rustic, wooden floor and the like. Not much decorations besides a few vase and potted plants.
A large living room with a dining table adjacent to a kitchen was all in one place. Looks good to me. Besides the essentials, being a second floor has bedrooms and the toilets have the beautiful wonders of working plumbing.
"Hmm…" Arona gives a long hum as I waited. "Looks comfy."
"Haha… I was never one to sleep in large places. Good thing you like it. Gotta thank Rin for this tomorrow.'
I looked more around to see a garage area… Empty, waiting for me to fill up with something.
Looking around, the house looked great in my eyes, not really saying much about the fact I have a pretty low standard of living. I wasn't exactly dreaming of suburbia to live in, a front lawn to water or mow grass by the morning and laze around under the sun, driving the locals mad. Maybe get married and a few years, watch the kids play outside and join them for a game of baseball. Maybe help the wife clean around the house in the weekends.
No chance. I want to laugh at that idea. Nobody would want some ugly bastard like me. Too old. Growing old. Nah, there's no chance of that ever happening — no dreams of a pre-war suburbia family like in those holotape shows for me.
Just a house.
But I take what I can get.
Up the stairs I went, there's a latch in the second-floor hall by one one of the far end that pulled down a set of stairs leading to an attic. Maybe… an over-watch tower… drill some holes to stick my rifle through. Also, the basement has stored a few essentials like a main fuse for the place and some furnace heater than even I can tell was way antique even by the wasteland's standard… but good to have once the electricity fails.
"Hmm… I could turn this place into my personal workshop… Maybe use the garage as an extension of sorts for a faster access and this place for the more complicated projects of mine." Of course, have to fill it up with some tools first. Can't work on nothing but hands. But also need to make some sort of ventilation if I'm going to make some huge changes here… More beams and supports too. I'll keep these plans for upgrading this place soon.
After walking up back to the ground floor, I check around the backyard. To say I could probably start a farm here would be an understatement.
Of course, maybe potatoes… The hardiest crop.
That's all that's important around the house I could check… The room settled into a comfortable silence, soft shadows stretching across the worn fabric of the couch. My muscles ached from the day's investigations, each tension slowly unraveling into the worn cushions.
I crashed out on the couch, body sinking. This thing is too soft. I might just get one day swallowed up by them.
Arona materialized in a soft blue light, her digital form taking shape beside me. The ethereal glow cast delicate shadows across the hall.
The blue luminescence seemed to pulse with a subtle rhythm, matching the quiet cadence of the evening. Another day completed, another moment of temporary rest claimed.
"Hey, kid. How are you holding up?" I muttered.
"I don't know… I guess I'm fine… cleaning some of the mess around your hardware." Fine… When a child says something like that, — surely means the other way around. Something is wrong, but they're afraid to share it for multiple reasons to keep it to themselves. Or what my Pip-boy told me while I was studying the Child at Heart perk.
"That so?" I climb up to sit alongside her.
"Well, I'm not." Arona turned to me.
"You're not?"
"Course. Far away from home and everyone I knew and cared about me. A few unfinished business I'll never get to find closure in. Now, I'm somewhere far away and I feel like a different apple from the rest of the bunch inside a basket called Kivotos."
My words hung in the air. Silence stretched between Arona and I, a tangible thing that seemed to absorb the weight of displacement. Arona just blinked at me with no such expression.
I sighed. The sound was like the whole history of people uprooted and struggling in a new place. "I feel homesick and alone."
"But you have me." She added, finally answering once she registered what I meant. "You have students visiting you and-"
Her attempt at comfort felt like a digital band-aid on an emotional wound that ran deeper than lines of code could understand. "It's not that simple, kid. These… folks I left behind… They mean a lot to me. I grew up by them, trying to do good the same way they did to me. It's the kind of memory you won't want to forget. The type that molds you when you grow up."
My voice dropped, becoming something fragile — a whisper of remembered connections. The memories pressed against my chest, a physical weight of belonging that couldn't be transported across distances. "I'll probably newer ones make some here, but it's hard when everywhere I see looks alien to me. Like I can't fit in."
I looked down at the ground. The silence between us became a landscape of its own — vast and empty, filled with the echoes of conversations never had, connections never made. Arona's digital presence felt both close and impossibly distant, a companion who could never truly understand the visceral ache of human separation.
There was a pause. A moment stretched between us like an unbridgeable distance.
"What about you, kid? Something troubling you?" I finally turn my head at the kid.
The question hung in the air - a bridge attempting to cross the chasm of loneliness, reaching toward a connection in a world that felt unfamiliar.
I felt something. It draped around me. I look to see Arona giving me a hug — attempting to at least with her small arms against my body.
"I feel alone to… Just me inside the Shittim Chest. It's bad when parts of my memories were erased. I could only nap to pass the time… hoping to see someone." Of course… How could I forget? Stuck alone inside that machine, nobody could open.
Just how long was she in the Shittim Chest? How long did the GSC president leave, and I came in to the picture?
"I'm sorry you have to go through that kid… Being alone sucks. Always hated it." I mumbled as extend her offer as I wrap an arm around her. "The worst thing to happen to a social animal like us. We weren't built for isolation - we just got used to it the longer we go."
"It's okay…" I heard Arona mumbled over my coat.
"Again, I have you with me."
Yeah…
"You got me."
That night, I let her sleep on the couch. I was going to offer her a blanket, but it just phased through her.
Right…
I checked the fridge for something to eat. As much as being able to make things out of thin air, it sure as hell makes it return to me with a bad headache. So moderation is a must and what kind of shit I can make from my memories.
Well… there's enough to make a potato soup in the pantry. Potatoes sat in a slightly dented wire basket, a few sprouting small white eyes that spoke of their lingering potential. The rough-skinned tubers bore the marks of efficient storage - function over aesthetics.
For chicken stock — there's this strange powder shaped in a cube with the wrapper advertising it as a chicken stock. The foil package crinkled between my fingers, its design promising more flavor than its compact form suggested. A culinary shortcut, compact and unromantic.
I'm no gourmet, but I do know that adding spices will help things taste alright and make people not complain. Things to make a group happy enough to continue following my lead. A small collection of spice jars stood like sentinels near the stove, each promising to elevate the mundane.
The cutting board emerged, slightly worn but serviceable. Potatoes and other vegetables I threw in met knife with a rhythmic chop, breaking down into uneven cubes. Water filled the pot - not precisely measured, but calculated through experience. The chicken stock cube dissolved with a quick stir, transforming clear liquid into a golden-tinged broth.
After a couple of trial and error by adding water to dilute the mix if it was too much salt. Each adjustment was a balancing act between flavor and edibility. A pinch of dried herbs here, a careful splash of water there - cooking as a form of improvisational art.
The pot simmered, another meal prepared with minimal fuss.
"Hrm… Sensei…" I heard mumbling from Arona as she slept. I returned to the couch with a bowl and spoon along with a bottle of whiskey I set on the coffee table.
I slowly sat down and my hands carefully lifted Arona's head to lay on my lap as I check the television for something interesting.
The soup, meanwhile, tasted good — but I'm no trustworthy voice for food.
I ended the night just watching shows about some drama between a detective visiting a small logging town to investigate some case that lead to a larger conspiracy hiding in the town along with some student by his side.
Strange show… I mean, what kind of detective uses his dreams as clues? Then what's the whole deal with the dancing midget robot in a red suit speaking cursive or something? That's dumb…
Of course, I'll watch it till the end.
Part of me was about to grab the bottle to wash it all down.
But when I look down, about to drink, everything stopped.
Arona lay in peaceful repose, her digital form manifesting a vulnerability that transcended her artificial nature. Her calm, sleeping face carried an impossible innocence — a stillness. Each soft pixel of her form radiated a trust so complete, so unguarded, that it cut through my momentary weakness.
The bottle retreated, sliding away from my grasp as I pulled my hands away to leave it back to the coffee table. Now, I don't feel like drinking.
God damn it…
…
…
…
…
Oh, right… I got a schedule to meet Kirino tomorrow.
The evidence lockup hummed with the soft electronic pulse of security systems. Fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow across rows of meticulously labeled shelves, each containing sealed bags and carefully documented artifacts from countless investigations.
"Still at up studying?"
The white-haired student's voice broke the silence, her silhouette cutting a sharp contrast against the clinical white walls. Behind her, stacks of case files and forensic reports created a makeshift fortress around the long, black-haired student hunched over documents.
"Huh?" A momentary pause. "Senpai?"
"I thought I remember big sis telling you to go home not three hours ago."
Exhaustion hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of old paper and industrial-strength cleaning solution. The black-haired student's fingers remained pressed against an open file, determination etched into her posture.
"Well, I'm still up and working. I didn't hear another word from the Chief Directed when she returned back earlier."
"Hehe… Don't get too optimistic with her being drunk to notice you. Let alone go down here." A pause, then. "Here. Coffee."
The styrofoam cup appeared like a peace offering, steam rising in delicate tendrils that momentarily softened the lockup's harsh atmosphere.
"I thought you're on the side of making me go home?"
"Well, if you're going to work yourself to death — at least indulge yourself a bit. I would offer you some tea, but I know you're not a big fan."
The black-haired student accepted, nonetheless. She could use a pick me up with the work she voluntarily buried herself. The black water would perk her a few more hours before the lethargy returns for a second visit.
"You still hang up on that riot? I thought we already concluded when that Kosaka girl was the culprit. Heck, even Sensei said it himself when he went in the interrogation room with her." The white-haired student shrugged as she leaned in to see.
But no, it wasn't about the riots — in specifying a single part of it that caught her attention that her senpai failed to notice. A small irregularity — so easy to miss.
The tank that Sensei and that one girl from the Safety Bureau, Kirino. Yeah, now she remembered.
"Not entirely." Her kouhai murmured off. Then she was offered the document more closely. "Read it. Then check the photos." Sure…
"A tank… How… exciting." The white-haired student mocked and cheered. Real exciting stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a standard Crusader Tank that Trinity primarily uses — though, this one was loaned to Kaiser. So, what?
Woah… Then it hit her.
'The tank bore witness to an inexplicable catastrophe — an internal explosion of such magnitude of intensity had punctured through the armored chassis, leaving a gaping hole in its body. Forensic examination yielded more questions than answers, with only fragmentary evidence to hint at the sequence of events.
The tank's interior told a cryptic story: a swath of metal sooth or ash scarring the floor, speaking of a momentary inferno. Investigators traced the destruction to an improbable source — a prematurely discharged firearm that had inexplicably punctured the internal heating system of a kettle as corroborated by Sensei.
Note: Who installs a kettle inside a tank?
Further investigations dissolved into uncertainty. Interviews with Thirteen — known as "Sensei," and Nakatsukasa Kirino, a Valkyrie student attached to the Community Safety Bureau — produced no substantive clarity.'
"An explosion…" Obviously. The explosion must have happened from the inside of the tank… There was always a defect with the shells that can discharge or go off on its own.
"Not just an explosion… If there was one — then there would be no survivors inside that tank in the rubble." The kouhai's words hung in the air like a suspended accusation. Is she… Is she implying that Kirino and Sensei should be dead? That is insane and going by this document and her words really did lead to that conclusion. What a night she got herself into.
"Could be a directional explosive?"
"Hmn… Couldn't be. The hole would have left residue of an explosion… Only the interior floor has them."
"Alright. I've had enough. You need some rest."
The declaration came simultaneously with a swift motion. Her hand darted out, snatching the coffee cup from her kouhai's hand. The long-haired student's reflexes sparked immediately, her arm shooting forward in a desperate arc.
"Hey, I wasn't done with that." Her fingers stretched, inches from reclaiming the stolen beverage. "Give that back."
The white-haired student pivoted, raising the coffee cup high above her head. Her arm extended fully, creating a deliberate barrier. The black-haired student's desperate reach fell short, her body leaning forward with an intensity that spoke of exhaustion and determination.
"No, you are. And I'm following you home to make sure you don't go back here unless you get some sleep."
"I don't need sleep!"
Their dynamic played out like a choreographed dance of concern and resistance, the stolen coffee a token of forced intervention.
A sudden ding from the P.A. speaker interrupted their disagreements on who gets to stay up late. Both stood frozen as the announcement cut through their private moment of confrontation. Turns out they're being called by Millenium of all academies? They sent two students now waiting in the reception area.
What do they want? The unspoken question hung between them. Offer to install more cameras here that can self-destruct?
"Come on, let's go up and see what they want."
…
The confrontation unfolded in the sterile corridor of the academy's administrative wing. Four female students - two from Millenium, two from Valkyrie. What a combination.
"You know we could arrest one of you for public indecency." Also, what a start. The white-haired Valkyrie student's voice carried a mixture of irritation and professional detachment. As much as she herself wouldn't care to show a bit of skin, wearing a bikini and in one of their precincts takes lots of guts.
"A thank you should be in order for not putting cuffs on my dear friend here: Thank you. Are there any more statements you're going to throw around or can we introduce ourselves already?"
"… No, I supposed not. Go ahead."
The Millenium student stepped forward, her posture a careful balance between formal and assertive. Her companion - a member of the P.A.D club - stood slightly behind, a silent counterpoint to her partner's more vocal approach.
"We're with Millenium under the orders of Seminar's president. My friend here is from the P.A.D club. I am a liaison sent to handle business between our academies. We expect your chief Director already expected of our arrival."
The Valkyrie students exchanged a measured glance. "… Chief Kanna is currently occupied."
"Unfortunate. Here, we have permission to review evidence files relating to the incident that occurred not too long ago. One that relates to a Kosaka Wakamo."
A document changed hands, its official seal catching the light. The signature of Milleniums president, alright. Not too long, Millenium started asking Valkyrie of much that she herself remember the signature of their president.
"Hm… This signature looks legit. OOOO, how about you go check up on big sis and I'll escort these two to the evidence lockers." The white-haired student turned to her kouhai.
"Uhm… Sure." Nodded before she gave the two Millenium students one last glance before she scurried away.
The dynamic shifted, a silent negotiation playing out in professional courtesies and institutional protocols.
"Well, if you could follow me. And uh… tell your friend here to cover herself up for the security cameras here at least." Seriously, if big sis finds her walking around here with a bikini — at night! This'll be either the funniest caught on tape episode or a bad fallout with a major academy.
"It's hot…" The almost bare-clad Millenium student answered. No such tone, just a statement. That took out a lot from the Valkyrie student to process.
"Ignore her, she has a… special condition where her body's temperature is all messed up." The other Millenium student with some common sense piped up in her partner's defence.
…
A few hours later…
"That was easy."
"Easy for you to say, you weren't the one being hounded by the mad dog herself."
"But I was handcuffed."
"Oh, shut it. I don't know exactly what your club does but if you're the only member there I hope this is worth more then what I had to go through. Did you get the pictures?"
"Hmh."
"Uhh… You know what? How about you hand it to Veritas yourself. In fact, don't stash the camera between your breasts at least. What a night this has been… All for pictures of a busted tank."
A/N: I can't anymore… Seia is finally announced. I can't go on any longer. I need to spend more on pyro. I am at my limits. The new anniversary students is too much for me to ignore. I really need to start whaling more. The most I can ignore is the uniform C and just pull for Rio and Seia.
Sorry Fat shiroko and tacticool Hoshino. Too bad also since I don't got Mika.
Ah, man, very busy right now. At least I got to release this lol.
Happy advance lunar new year, readers! Take a break in coming wednesday. I know i will!