CHAPTER 1

A Sudden Beginning

Open_the_Festival.

1

Touma Kamijou awoke on a bench in front of a station.

“?”

He got up and took a look around, scowling at the noise of trains, which carried well through the brisk November air. This was an Academy City station and one he recognized at that. None of the people going about their business took much notice of him, either. He was part of the city’s scenery, and he, in turn, gazed at the scenery of the city.

More to the point.

He had no idea why he was in such a familiar place.

…Huh? I remember finishing my business in Hawaii and then heading to Baggage City in Eastern Europe and then… What happened…???

He could recall using his right hand to smash in the face of an eyepatch-wearing girl who apparently led Gremlin, but what had happened afterward? He tried to remember, but he found his memories buried under the static of intense pain and terror. Maybe he’d been barely conscious at the time, so his memory hadn’t been working properly.

Little by little, though, the strangeness of the situation caught up to him.

The air was a bit cold but that sense that something was wrong seemed to stab through his skin and into his body.

Someone had brought him here from Baggage City.

That was the only assumption he could make. On the other hand, how difficult would that have been? Baggage City was basically on the other side of the planet from Japan and the Far East. Crossing any national border with an unidentified boy who had clearly been caught up in some bad stuff must have been quite a struggle.

That wasn’t all.

Kamijou was in Academy City now: a place protected by a security system completely detached from the rest of Japan. Sure, a bunch of sorcerers—and teams of sorcerers—had snuck inside in the past, but would doing that have been feasible while hauling an unconscious boy like luggage?

Well, somebody had pulled it off.

They had lugged him to the other side of the world, then vanished without a trace.

“……”

He thought for a moment.

…Fiamma of the Right. And, uh, Ollerus, was it? Was it them…?!

Panicking, Kamijou looked around, but all he saw were familiar city sights and boys and girls moving to and fro as though nothing was wrong. There was no sign of the sorcerer who had rocked all of humanity or of the man who seemed like he would go a step further.

But then it happened.

Ka-clmp. A footstep.

He heard it despite the sounds of life coming from every human body in this dense throng. The sound slipped into his ears, stimulating his brain as clearly as a drop of water falling from the ceiling deep in a cave. A chill ran down his spine. The noise had come from behind him. Right behind the bench he’d been sleeping on. Someone was close.

Who was it?

Fiamma of the Right?

The man called Ollerus?

As explained, getting Kamijou into the city would have taken a whole lot of work. But if someone had done so in spite of the challenges, then it must have been worth the cost. And whatever they’d gained, it hadn’t necessarily been through peaceful methods.

Without a word, Kamijou balled his right hand into a fist.

After tightening it as hard as he could, he slowly—very slowly—turned around.

And there, he saw…

“Wait. Fukiyose?”

…Seiri Fukiyose, his classmate with a big forehead and long black hair (not to mention enormous breasts). She was wearing her long-sleeved winter uniform, and for some reason, she had a vinyl bag in each of her hands. They didn’t appear to contain food from the supermarket or convenience store but rather stationery and other sorts of tools.

Kamijou frowned. “What are you doing here? Actually, what are you even doing at all?”

“…What am I doing?” rumbled Fukiyose. “I can’t! Believe you’re asking me that!!! When you’re the one who skipped out on our Ichihanaran Festival prep, Touma Kamijo​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u!!!”

“Guh-bwah?!”

White spattered his vision. Fukiyose had swung around her bag and hit him right in the face, but it felt oddly hard and heavy. Little wonder, then, there was a humongous roll of duct tape inside.

“Hey, wait… What is that thing, some kind of weapon prisoners came up with while locked up at the police station?! Gu-bwah?! Hey, you’re gonna crack my skull open!!!”

“Pipe down!!! You’re getting no less than what you deserve!!!”

Fukiyose took out from her bag the roll of duct tape—a genuine blunt weapon—and pulled off a long wide piece of tape, which she used to tie Kamijou’s hands behind his back.

“I’m taking you in—back to the school!!! We have nowhere near enough people to make our class’s main attraction—our stall!!!”

“Taking me in… Like, right now?! Oh, uh, but I should probably go back to my dorm first, you know? Like, I wonder if Index is doing all right, you know!!!”

Ignoring his shouts, Fukiyose dragged Kamijou away like he was a murderer and she some kind of private investigator.

2

The smell of alcoholic disinfectant hung in the air. The room was so fresh and clean that it was uncanny. Inside was a unique chair with an electric-powered reclinable back. Situated on either side of the chair was a workbench, each cluttered with devices, most of them about the size of a ballpoint pen, perhaps. None of the shiny, silvery, metallic devices would have been sold in any convenience store, though. One had a sharpened edge, another was affixed with a small mirror, and yet another looked like a motor-powered circular pencil sharpener that could whittle down tough objects.

If someone had known what they were, they would have begun to tremble, for they were all the tools of a professional.

Tools to inflict incredible pain and agony, such that if you asked one hundred people at random, you might find none who could endure them.

“Let me make one thing clear,” whispered a man wearing a strange outfit.

It wasn’t a white lab coat but something more akin to raincoat, as it was made with water-resistant material. The man kept his hair fully concealed underneath a vinyl cap, and thanks to the large mask on his face, his features were unreadable. Nevertheless, his perfectly hidden body revealed more about his personality and intent than any facial expression could have.

“Any attempts to endure this will fail. This isn’t the sort of thing you can hold out against with grit and exertion, got it? You were brought here to finally reap what you’ve sowed. You ignored our warnings. Unfortunately, we can no longer show mercy.” The man spoke with eyes more inorganic than a security camera. “Understand that flailing about will do nothing. The more you resist, the longer the agony will last. Your best option is to simply accept it. Then, at least, I can end this without pain.”

On the special electric-powered recliner sat a blond girl of about eight, with two or three other men dressed the same as the first positioned around her. The chair was fully reclined to be like a bed, however, so maybe it would be more accurate to say she had been “laid” on it. The men looked down at her with impassive faces.

“Ah, ah…”

The girl let out a moan, but nobody batted an eye.

They were professionals.

Thus, despite knowing exactly how much pain their work could inflict, they would never let up. They were well aware of what awaited them if they let their emotions convince them to show mercy: a horrid end.

“Am I clear, Fremea Seivelun? If I am, then let’s begin. If you want something to hate, then hate your own actions—the ones that brought you here.”

The device, sharpened to a razor point, moved toward her forced-open mouth.

“Ah​h​h… A​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h!!!”

Out in the waiting room of the dentist’s office, Shiage Hamazura heard the soprano shriek and looked up from the motorsports magazine he’d read to the point of wearing it out. On the wall in front of him hung a handmade poster that read, HEALTH TIP FOR ALL THE GOOD LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS: DON’T FORGET TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP!

Relaxedly, he turned to the girl in the pink tracksuit sitting next to him, Rikou Takitsubo. “I bet dentistry is the only job in Japan where people compliment you for confidently making little girls cry.”

“…I think there are others. What about people who run haunted houses? And the guys who dress up as namahage on New Year’s Eve and go around scaring kids?”

“Wait, they make money?”

At the moment, Fremea was getting some reconstructive surgery done on the inside of her mouth. Evidently, her stubborn insistence on having a cup of hot chocolate every night before bed in defiance of Hamazura’s and Takitsubo’s warnings had ended in disaster. She was only eight, so she probably still had her baby teeth, but it seemed they weren’t yet ready to fall out naturally.

Getting a cavity because you ignored taking care of your teeth, only to have to get it filled? That seemed to Hamazura like a whole lot of unnecessary pain.

3

“Um, look, Kami. As a human and a teacher both, I have to say your truancy is developing into a serious problem. It’s sort of like, well, extra homework and remedial classes ain’t comin’ close to covering everything you’ve missed at this point, or something…”

“Yhm, mmm.”

“Just to make sure you’re fully aware, it’s like, high school ain’t compulsory education, ya jerk, but of course, we’ll want to think about how you’ll recover from all your absences. Just what kind of problems have you even been having, though?”

“Mrrh-hmm…”

“And on a fundamental level, how the heck do you keep getting so beat up?! Did you stick your face in a beehive or something?!”

In the average high school hallway, with shouting echoes courtesy of Komoe Tsukuyomi, the pint-size teacher who stood at 135 centimeters tall, Touma Kamijou’s hands were tied behind his back with duct tape. His classmate Fukiyose had punished him by dragging him all over the city. Then he’d tripped over a slight bump in the road and had fallen hard. His face had dropped straight into her soft, bounteous upper regions, and—well, you get the picture.

Fukiyose had shut the classroom’s sliding door, then shoved Kamijou in the back. “Get in there, punk! One deserter, all rounded up.” Just like that, she’d gone back to her post.

Inside, the classroom had literally none of its usual atmosphere. The desks had all been pushed to the back of the room to make space for hardware tools and several large plywood boards. Fukiyose had mentioned something about building a stall, but it wasn’t like these were easily assembled building blocks. They were just big sheets of wood, nothing more.

The idea was to bring them outside on the day of the Ichihanaran Festival and construct the stall on the spot. The class’s reasoning for this was simple: If they built it in advance and left it outside, there would be nothing stopping aggressive jerks from just coming around and busting up the whole thing. People who liked breaking windows for no particular reason would probably be more than willing to destroy a stall, too. In a city whose 2.3 million population was 80 percent students, minor scuffles like that happened pretty much all the time.

As Kamijou lay there like a friend to all earthworms, Motoharu Tsuchimikado and Blue Hair approached him—without any apparent intention of taking off the duct tape.

“Whaddaya think, Kammy? It’s a cultural festival, yeah? Don’t we wanna play it by the book and, y’know, put up a café or a haunted house? In, like, a cosplay sense!!! On the whole, there’s really nothing to do at a takoyaki stand! And it’d be too unbalanced if we dressed up like maids to make it!!! That would swing things in way too comical a direction!!!”

“…Apparently, there’ll be none of the beauty pageants for the girls these cultural festivals always have, either. Not even any embarrassing swimsuits. What’s with that? What’s the point of a cultural festival if there’s no culture?”

I don’t know, but I don’t think maids and swimsuits are a very deep examination of culture, thought Kamijou. He knew these two would never be willing to listen to his honest opinion on the subject, though.

He twisted his wrists again and again in the duct tape, struggling to peel off the sticky bits. “The Ichihanaran Festival’s meant for the city, right? Trial experiences for schools, open campuses, stuff like that. The festival’s all any of the teachers can think about right now—it’s basically one big commercial directly tied to enrollment rates. They’re throwing their weight around. The event isn’t supposed to be rowdy, is it?”

“You stupid moron!!! Over at Eiri Academy High School next door, they’re having a beauty contest like normal people!!! And they have swimsuits!!! And they said kids from other schools can join in on the fun, so there’s even rumors Kumokawa will be part of it!!!”

“We’re in high school, you know!!! We have way more freedom during this festival than we did during middle school!!! You’ve gotta want to see what lies just ahead on the sexy road only high school kids are allowed to see!!!”

“Fine! I’ll go!!! Even though that’s literally the only thing that ever gets pubescent boys to do literally anything!!!”

Touma Kamijou, the murderer, confessed at last. No matter what anyone said, the way to get the most students over to this school would be to offer something attractive. If they stuck to their stupid honesty and settled on an event that adults would consider “worthy” of being in a cultural festival, they’d bring in exactly zero people.

Blue Hair stuck up his index finger. “Right. So it’s not too late. I think we should have the girls man the stall in swimsuits!!!”

“They can’t be in swimsuits while running a food stall. They’d get burned by the oil. And then Ms. Komoe would get buried in written apologies,” said Kamijou.

“In that case, we should make a girl accidentally burn a takoyaki, then punish her by forcing her to cover her face in egg white and mayonnaise while interacting with customers.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna go down nearly as well as you seem to think it will. If she’s dripping in all that liquid, she’ll just look totally gruesome. That whole thing about a girl being more charming with a dollop of whipped cream stuck to her cheek is a fantasy.”

“I don’t want to hear your negativity, man! The hell’s wrong with some fantasy?! What, are you in your rebellious phase? Do you have to be contrarian every chance you get? Huh?!”

On one side was the cold-blooded Blue Hair, who seemed perfectly willing to actually rough up a classmate whose hands were tied behind his back, and on the other was the wild beast Touma Kamijou, resident of the concrete jungle, jumping at the boy’s flank and snapping at it. Motoharu Tsuchimikado, meanwhile, began calculating—at a level more precise than what you’d need for atmospheric reentry—the ideal angle at which he could dive into this brawl himself and get walloped in such a way he would go careening into a nearby girl.

And then Seiri Fukiyose, the executive officer for every Ichihanaran Festival, exploded.

“R​r​r​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h!!! If you aren’t gonna contribute, I’ll slice you up into little strips and put you in fortune cookies as a nasty surprise, you assholes!!!”

That would definitely get the stall shut down immediately—and also make the headlines.

4

The Ichihanaran Festival was a supermassive cultural festival held in Academy City. The major event featured trial experiences at schools and open campuses, which meant it was directly linked to school application rates. This, in turn, made even preparing for it a large-scale project. And it came with a tradition attached: The teachers of the city gained a lot of authority.

Though it didn’t matter to a kid who had just been all over Hawaii and Baggage City, there had been no classes in recent days, and public transportation was now running around the clock. The unspoken rule was nobody was allowed to stay over at school for more than one night. With that in mind, putting the entire class on a work rotation didn’t break that rule.

The main difference between this festival and its twin—the Daihasei Festival, a supermassive athletic fair—was how the outside world played a part. While the Daihasei Festival brought together many people from across the globe, the Ichihanaran Festival chiefly targeted the students already in the city.

The former demanded care, in a way, not to flub the whole thing in front of people who didn’t know much about cutting-edge tech or supernatural abilities. The latter, though, came off as quite a bit more relaxed. That said, because it was aimed at other Academy City students, cheap, gimmicky devices wouldn’t be enough to steal the attention of potential visitors.

Every single school needed to bring out every last bit of cutting-edge technology they had and provide something that could shock even students who lived side by side with Academy City’s tech and esper powers.

In that sense, this cultural festival was the most difficult in the world.

That said, the degree to which someone viewed the task as a challenge or found value in the work really depended on the individual.

And on that note…

“First things first, Kamijou. You’re staying overnight. What did you expect after ditching so often?”

…after High Supreme Judge Fukiyose passed down her sentence, Kamijou cried out like Munch’s The Scream.

“Wait, what?! Hold on, when am I gonna get to go back to my dorm?! If Index finds out I’ve been in the city without coming home, she’ll blow her top!!!”

Game Master Fukiyose turned a deaf ear to his lament, however, and continued to push everything forward. Her first order to Kamijou after unbinding his hands from the duct tape had been to buy food. It was around lunchtime. Usually, they ate in the school cafeteria, but apparently, their meager facilities weren’t able to provide food for every single classmate—not when those students populated such a destructive battlefield. The better choice would be to buy up a bunch of cheap bento boxes and instant ramen at a big supermarket. Unfortunately, rumors of such places being safe oases in the desert had spread quickly among other schools. Now there were small-scale skirmishes breaking out, though not on the level of cafeterias or school stores.

“We need each meal to be two hundred yen or less. And we need them to contain vegetables of some kind, like a salad, if possible. Got it?”

“Dang. If we had three hundred yen to work with, we could get regular-sized beef bowl platters. In this day and age, a plain old hamburger with nothing on it costs over one hundred…”

“Factor in the nutritional value. For example, if Kiritaya is having one of its super–beef bowl sales, that’s 380 yen a meal. But that’s obviously over twice the amount of a regular platter, so divide by two, and it fits in the budget… Honestly, everyone’s going to be checking local shopping district websites on their phones right now. If you just go looking for whatever has the cheapest single portions, you’ll end up clashing with other schools.”

“…If I’m gonna buy that much, shouldn’t I call ahead? Bigger places would be able to handle orders of that magnitude.”

“If that worked, then all the restaurants would just make everything in advance and pack it up. But there’s over two million people in this city, and eighty percent of them are suddenly descending on those eateries looking for the same food at the same time,” explained Fukiyose. She narrowed her eyes. “Anyway, I’ll give you the money, but don’t let your rotten luck trip you up and wash it all down a river.”

“…I can’t make any promises, I’m sorry to say.”

“I’ll put the cash in a waterproof envelope. With my phone. With its GPS on. Will that work?”

Kamijou would need more than two hands to hold the amount of shopping bags required to carry a few dozen people’s worth of food. Instead, he brought out a handcart and left the school.

Despite preparations being underway, he sensed a timid disconcertment everywhere he looked. There were a lot of students around, most likely because it was lunchtime. All the kids tasked with procuring food were running this way and that.

…If we want vegetables for under two hundred yen, sandwiches are probably the easiest option. But convenience stores won’t work, since they package each sandwich separately. I guess I’ll stop by a few of those uncomfortable restaurants meant for really big eaters. They’re like bookstores—if you buy a ton at once, they give you a discount, so the more a customer gets, the less comes out of their wallet. That should be enough for the entire class to get a full meal.

Kamijou normally made food for himself to begin with, so his first idea was to just make it all himself. But he had dozens of classmates. He doubted his home cooking skills would cover that many people.

He could fend for himself, but even he wasn’t good enough to cook things in a pot as big as a bathtub and not burn them. And pumping out a couple dozen meals with regular-sized utensils would take hours.

…I always thought restaurant food was only so expensive because the flavors are richer. But maybe there’s a lot to say about professional cooks, he thought to himself profoundly as he headed to a super-huge sandwich shop.

Then, suddenly…

…he felt like he’d just overlooked something he couldn’t afford to.

“……”

Kamijou stopped. Nothing around him had changed; the air was still thick with the hurried tension so characteristic of the Ichihanaran Festival. It was unique, so in another way, you could also describe it as abnormal. But there was something else. Something that blew all that tension out of the water. Something enormous. He was sure of it.

But there was a problem.

Whatever they were, they were no katana exposed to daylight, ready to kill at a moment’s notice. They blended in perfectly. They were just a part of the scenery. And so everybody overlooked them—despite them being so enormous, so dangerous, and so clearly lethal should you carelessly approach them.

Hawaii. Baggage City.

Gremlin.

The great darkness spreading throughout the world’s depths.

They were of the same magnitude—possibly even thicker. As Kamijou recognized the threat, he stayed still, then did a slow 360-degree turn. He observed everything around him. When he did, he found the origin of the unsettling feeling.

They were only thirty meters away.

They were on a level such that someone exposed to them would break out in a cold sweat, even from the other side of the world, and they were leaning against a roadside tree, watching him.

Strictly speaking, they were not Gremlin.

However.

In a way, they might have been even more abnormal than that organization.

Ollerus.

The man he’d encountered deep within Baggage City. The man who should have become a magic god.

“Heya.”

The man barely parted his lips to speak. He left his tree and began to walk over.

“Fiamma of the Right and I made a bet about whether you’d notice me or not. Now it looks like I’ll be treating him to dinner… Although you did spot me in the end, so you’re not that dull.”

A magic god.

The word didn’t refer to a king among demons but to someone who had, as a result of their mastery over sorcery, set foot into the domain of the divine.

This was a monumental achievement among sorcerers. It was said you could only become a magic god by acquiring the knowledge of the 103,000 grimoires in Index’s head, then learning to wield that information to its fullest extent. As Kamijou went over this, another thought rose up in the back of his mind.

Wasn’t that just like a Level Six?

Everyone whispered it was possible, in theory, and the rumors went that one would eventually appear at some point in history, somewhere in the world—but also that nobody could actually pull it off.

And yet Ollerus had touched that same domain.

The way he’d damaged his own reputation by saying he should have become a magic god, along with the way he didn’t make himself out to be more than he was, perhaps raised more hairs than the alternative.

He was a monster.

A monster of unknown power. One whom Kamijou couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Ollerus spoke to him again. “You should be about stable again now. Why don’t we continue our conversation from Baggage City?”

“……”

“I’m sure you have a whole pile of questions at this point. About Gremlin, about that Othinus girl leading them, about their ultimate objective, and about the term magic god linking me with Othinus. And above all else…”

Ollerus paused for a moment, then continued, speaking clearly.

“…about Imagine Breaker and its secrets—or, more relevantly, what it even is.”

He spoke in the same manner as a boxer who stepped into their opponent’s space.

It was like he was breaking through something that had barely been holding him back before, producing a current nobody could ever hope to stop.

Kamijou gulped. It took several seconds for him to realize the sound had come from his own throat.

Why now? Of all the times, why now?

When he’d finally started to feel like he was back in his world, helping his class set up for the Ichihanaran Festival?

He thought it over. And finally, he exhaled a big breath, then…

Dash!!

He ran away at full speed from Ollerus, because he knew this conversation was going to be way too annoying and take way too long.

And now it was Ollerus’s—the man who should have become a magic god—turn to be shocked.

“Hey… Hey!!! This was supposed to be a serious scene! I’m dangling Imagine Breaker’s true identity right in front of you, and you’re not even biting?! You’re really not gonna take the bait? I didn’t know kids these days were so hard-boiled. Hey!!!”

“Can it!!! I’m terrified of what my class will do to me if I don’t get them food! Everyone knows I already skipped out on so much prep! Put yourself in my shoes! What would happen if I abandoned this task and went off somewhere?! They’d beat the crap out of me! No, worse!!!”

Everyone knew that when experts like Ollerus started talking, they took forever to get to the point. And Kamijou wasn’t mentally prepared for that yet. Please just give me a few rom-com scenes and a fan-service scene in between or something!!! Kamijou begged.

When your schedule was booked, it was always best to escape things before getting caught up in them.

5

“And that’s why I called you behind the gym,” said Ollerus with a look of feigned innocence to Kamijou, who had let down his guard after finishing shopping for lunch without issue. The boy’s right hand was already curled into a tight fist.

“…What do you want? To confess your love to me? To fight where other people can’t see? I really hope it’s the second one, if at all possible.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure I understand your situation. Japanese school life sounds like a coexistence of opposite extremes.” Ollerus shrugged a little. “I told you I wanted to talk, didn’t I?”

“About what? And starting where?”

“Now, that’s the problem. Where to start, indeed?”

He seemed to fret over this, but Kamijou wasn’t sure if the guy was genuinely worried. Ollerus was close enough to being a magic god that he could touch it. What did he have to worry about?

It turned out Kamijou was right. “Well, no point getting on my high horse and starting from square one,” Ollerus said simply. “I’ll explain things at the heart, and then you can ask questions, and I’ll fill in the gaps for you. That’ll be fastest.”

“‘The heart’?”

“Othinus, the magic god,” said Ollerus—the man who’d never called himself anything more than someone who should have become one. “Unlike me, you could call her a magic god in a perfected state. There is essentially nothing in the world she cannot do. Gremlin is bound together by her strength, so if you understand her motives, then you’ll understand the group’s. And…”

He paused there, then looked at Kamijou’s right hand.

“Fiamma of the Right may have triggered a world war to obtain your right hand, but Gremlin and Othinus aren’t after your Imagine Breaker. That’s the first thing I want you to keep in mind… The second is since they don’t need your ability for their plans, they don’t need to show you any consideration. They will have no mercy, no thoughtfulness; if you get in their way, they will come to kill you. That’s who you’re up against.”

“……”

It was easy to forget Kamijou was only a high school student.

He had a lot of specialized experience now, but he was no formally trained soldier or martial artist. He wasn’t being supplied with professional gear or anything, either. Obviously, taking on an internationally active organization would put him at an incredible disadvantage. The mere fact he was considering doing so was proof of his amateurish miscalculations; he couldn’t gauge each side’s power against one another.

Now that he was involved and had shown he could actually beat members of Gremlin in a fight, he was past the point of no return. If Kamijou withdrew, Gremlin would simply come to him to end things.

And.

Now that he was so involved, he didn’t plan on backing out halfway, either.

Because if he gave up, it would be more than just his head on the chopping block.

“You see, Gremlin formed because of Fiamma sparking World War III,” stated Ollerus. Even the English Church, professionals when it came to this kind of roughhousing, probably didn’t have this information. “Their mission statement is essentially, ‘Everyone decided Academy City and the science side won the war, but who even got to make that call?’ At the time, certainly no sorcerer was in the spotlight as much as Fiamma was…but he’s not everything a sorcerer can be—we haven’t even gotten a chance to go onstage—so don’t name yourself representative of all sorcerers and then lose, asshole. That’s basically what they’re insisting.”

Was that why Gremlin was based on Norse mythology instead of Crossism? The Crossist alliance of Rome and Russia had lost. Were they angry at people assigning that loss to their own cultural sphere as well?

“…Sounds like they’re pretty selfish,” said Kamijou. “They didn’t help during World War III because they didn’t want to get involved, and now they’re complaining they lost?”

“Well, they wouldn’t have gained anything from helping Fiamma. And the people higher than Fiamma had things pretty much figured out: Even if he completed his system and everything was a success, the world wouldn’t be saved in the way he wanted.”

Gremlin couldn’t accept the loss others were assigning to them.

So they would settle the score personally next time.

If Gremlin really was a ragtag fighting force brought together by an ideal like that, then…

“Sorcerers’ societies have centuries of history behind them, if not millennia. Unlike those groups, however, Gremlin doesn’t have one unified ideal. A bunch of individual sorcerers picked up on the defeatist attitude after World War III, and then they started coming out of the woodwork, smashing their complaints about unfairness and injustice all together into one big ball called Gremlin. Naturally, sorcerers like them will try to prepare a suitable symbol to represent the sorcery side, in opposition to the winner, Academy City.”

“…And that symbol is the magic god Othinus?”

“Yeah, so the balance of power is easy to understand. Though we don’t know if Othinus brought all the sorcerers together or if the sorcerers rallied to her. Either way, the Academy City side of the scale has a huge weight on it now, so Gremlin likely wants to power up Othinus as much as they can… In essence, you can think of it like this: The group’s objective is to make Othinus’s selfish wishes come true.”

“But can’t a magic god do anything and everything? Why would she need anyone else to help her pull it off?”

“How do I put this? It’s because she can do anything that she creates problems.” Ollerus smiled sardonically, as if pitying a comrade. “Infinite possibilities is a great catchphrase, but if Othinus holds infinite good possibilities, then she also holds infinite bad ones.”

“?”

“Maybe it’s hard for someone young enough to still believe in infinite possibilities to understand. Consider a coin toss. It’s a fifty-fifty chance to get heads or tails. That’s the true nature of infinite possibilities. Each time Othinus takes an action, she has both a chance to succeed and a chance to fail. No matter how much she trains or practices, she still has a fifty percent chance to lose in a children’s quarrel. That’s how a magic god works.”

Fifty percent was a big number. It was like starting a game of Russian roulette with three bullets in the chamber.

“Academy City are the victors of this era. Gremlin and Othinus want to do something big against Academy City, and since the odds are so weak, they’ve got to fix them. Gremlin will want to wield what power they’ve gained to its full potential. They’re looking for a one hundred percent chance to grasp victory. To pull it off, they’ve needed to make some adjustments, some preparations. That was what bubbled up to the surface in Hawaii and Baggage City.”

“…You’re telling me that was all nothing but prep work​?”

“You know, the name Othinus is an alternate reading of Odin, the highest god in the Norse pantheon. I think they’re following along with his legends. They’re trying to use Soul Arms symbolizing Odin’s nature to readjust Odin’s nature… Norse myths are myths of weapons. In those stories, the might of the gods manifests as powerful armaments. It’s really not that hard to figure out what Othinus is going for.”

Ollerus’s tone was casual as he continued his explanation, disseminating information directly linked to the world’s very future.

“Gungnir, the divine spear—a Soul Arm representing Odin’s martial prowess as god among gods. I’ll bet that’s why Othinus is messing with stuff all over the world: to assemble Gungnir. And perfect it.”

The construction of the furnace using volcanic energy in Hawaii. The dvergr with the crafting skills to make legendary weapons from Norse mythology. The theft of the schematics from the mind of Brunhild Eichtbel, the Valkyrie who had once successfully forged a piece of the legendary spear.

“That said, Gungnir wasn’t supposed to ever be completed. At least, not by only using the technologies that currently exist on Earth. But in Baggage City, Gremlin took even that condition out of the picture.”

“?”

“The development of holistic supernatural abilities is a technology that does not exist on Earth. Hypothetically, if someone could make that a reality, then Gremlin would be able to reach for completely new possibilities. They’d have the last piece of Gungnir.”

When that spear was complete, Gremlin—and Othinus, the magic god leading them—would take definite action against the entire world.

They’d do something that would make all the major conflicts and strife thus far actually seem like simple prep work.

And with full fearless use of a power that had always carried a 50 percent risk of failure before.

Ollerus was right. That would be catastrophic.

Kamijou didn’t fully understand the terror of a magic god. Othinus had crushed his right hand, but even that hadn’t given him a glimpse of how deep her power ran. Still, he knew one thing for sure. He just had to think about it like this: Gremlin’s nature, which they’d shown in Hawaii and Baggage City, would continue to expand throughout the world. And he was pretty sure nobody except for Gremlin would want the hopeless changes that came with it.

However.

At the same time.

“……”

Kamijou glanced at his right hand.

If Othinus’s goal was to manipulate her own possibility space, which normally gave everything a fifty-fifty chance of success, she didn’t need some sacred spear Soul Arm called Gungnir to do that, did she?

Yes.

His Imagine Breaker.

His right hand nullified all sorcery. So in terms of possibilities, it wasn’t a stretch to say his hand set everything to zero percent. Maybe it worked the opposite way from Othinus, who sought greater power and a 100 percent chance, but if they were polar opposites…then she’d be able to take advantage of that, wouldn’t she?

For example, let’s say every path you ever chose was always going to turn out to be the wrong one. In that case, by always choosing the opposite road, you would be able to take the correct path every time.

Othinus would have plenty of ways to get what she wanted if she set that permanent failure state in stone. What bound her was that true balance of 50 percent. There was no way to take advantage of that—and once you knew the result, you couldn’t go back in time. This had led to her standstill.

It didn’t matter which direction she spun the wheel—success or failure—because she would at least be able to determine her future course that way. And if that was the case…

Then wouldn’t that make Kamijou’s right hand valuable to Gremlin?

“Oh, no worries on that front.” Ollerus’s answer to his question was short and simple. “Imagine Breaker isn’t compatible with Othinus’s ideals to begin with. Even if she realized it would benefit her, she wouldn’t think to actually use it.”

“What do you mean…?”

“C’mon, you’re killin’ me here, askin’ all these questions before answering mine,” said Ollerus, his expression not changing in the slightest. “Can I get down to the meat and bones of the issue with you? You use Imagine Breaker a lot. Do you know what it really is?”

6

November’s cold brought with it a decrease in open-air café business.

Among the crowds flooding Academy City to prepare for some festival or other sat a few very obvious anomalies. All the tables at the café they had chosen were empty, save for theirs. The members of the group gave off the impression they just didn’t understand the finer points of the world, but they didn’t seem to mind this.

The first person at the table was a dark-skinned girl with red-framed glasses, her silvery hair in a long braid. She wore a pair of overalls directly atop bare skin, making for a highly exposing outfit that was highly unsuited for the November weather. Nevertheless, she’d swaggered about in the same getup in Baggage City, located in the Arctic Circle in Eastern Europe, and she showed no more sign of shivering from the cold now than she had then.

The second was Mjölnir.

She (?) had lost every recognizable part of her human form, and now she looked like a black oil drum that stood a little over a meter tall. While she would have stuck out like a sore thumb on the streets of a normal city, Academy City brimmed with oil drum–shaped robots for cleaning and security, for better or worse. One more didn’t cause any particular fuss; the residents seemed to accept her as a part of this group.

And the third one.

A boy, delicate of frame, with pale white skin. That, plus his waist-length blond hair, gave him an effeminate vibe. His clothing consisted of mainly yellows and blacks, with a tight-fitting shirt and pants, plus a shawl around his shoulders. Of the group of three, he appeared to be the most normal…but in reality, he was the least.

Thor.

Sometimes called the god of thunder, he was a true warrior, even within Gremlin; his role was specifically to take command of direct combat operations.

His might was prodigious, enough to actualize the very concept of war with just his individual strength alone.

…However.

“Mgrrr… Ugh, I can’t get myself going…” Marianne Sringeneier, all her energy suddenly gone, slumped over the table. Beside her, Mjölnir rattled back and forth a bit to express her concern and worry for her.

They were both official members of Gremlin, the organization seeking to upend the world, but in Thor’s opinion, they weren’t all that great relative to the other people on the team. Despite the group’s size, the members were all surprisingly unconcerned with hierarchical relationships. Of course, getting into Gremlin at all was a problem.

…Well, if Marianne’s not doing so hot, it’s probably because Kagun Kihara died, decided Thor offhandedly.

Othinus the magic god was apparently still using Kihara as a puppet, but a puppet could never be anything more than that. No trace remained of his former life, and he would never go back to the way he’d been before his death.

That said…

Without Kagun Kihara’s “scent,” as it were, Marianne Sringeneier probably would have given up more on herself than she already had.

To be honest, Thor wasn’t happy with how she was hanging around him in such a state when she already tended to be unstable. There was no telling when his entire view of reality would suddenly turn psychedelic.

Combat was Thor’s specialty. He’d been single-minded in his pursuit of fighting others directly, and it had developed to the point where that was equivalent to all-out war.

However.

That didn’t mean the thought of spilling blood turned him on. He wasn’t some weirdo. He couldn’t stand gory movies, and he kept haunted houses at an arm’s length.

That was why, he always gave a firm warning before getting started.

“Hey. No precautionary attacks, remember?” he said.

“Right, right…”

“And that means no human modification just so you have a stock of tools for when the fighting starts, either, stupid. Do you even understand what I’m telling you?”

“…Yeah, yeah…”

They were right smack in the middle of enemy territory, and yet the only replies he could get out of Marianne were vague and noncommittal.

The girl (?) in the form of a black oil drum rattled back and forth again.

7

What Imagine Breaker really was.

That’s what Ollerus had said. Did he know the answer? Of course he did. Why else would he ask the question like that?

But how?

Didn’t the thing residing in Kamijou’s right hand come from the science side?

“I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the power in your hand isn’t a product of Academy City’s Ability Development tech,” said Ollerus plainly. “Of course, there are other examples of science-side abilities created without Academy City’s intervention: Uncut Gems, those unique espers who come into their powers naturally, outside this place… But there’s no proof you’re one of them, either. You’re someone with an abnormal power that developed outside Academy City. If I put it like that…well, this would make you a gray area, wouldn’t it?”

“……”

“When a group found you and interpreted you, well, it just so happened that group was Academy City, part of the science side. Nothing more. That’s why you’re convinced you can explain yourself with science… Here’s a hypothetical. If the sorcery side—say, the English Puritan Church—had picked you up when you were little, they would have explained you using their logic instead. You would have been convinced you were part of the sorcery side.”

“Right… So what on earth is Imagine Breaker…?”

“Well, that’s something you should figure out for yourself. But if you want to know how someone in my position would interpret it…”

Gremlin wasn’t just science, and it wasn’t just sorcery.

Ollerus was one of its two leaders, the other being Othinus.

The man who should have become a magic god—his interpretation.

“You—or should I say, the power in your right hand is essentially the condensation of every sorcerer’s fears and wishes.”

“What?”

“Those who master sorcery become magic gods. But even an omnipotent deity has fears. And I’m not just talking about that fifty percent restriction from before. I mean primal fears any sane, reasonable person would have when possessed of so much power.”

While Ollerus would be one of the people most familiar with that fear, his expression remained steady.

Was the mind of someone who had progressed that far simply beyond the ken of regular people?

“Think back to Terra of the Left. A unique sorcerer who belonged to God’s Right Seat, just like Fiamma of the Right. If we put things in terms of his system of power, he was likely the closest among them to discovering Imagine Breaker’s true nature… Even closer than Fiamma, most likely. He researched the contradictions inherent in the power relation between the Son of God and the human who killed him. The result of which was an outstandingly unique spell called Light’s Execution.”

“?”

“Your Imagine Breaker is similar. It has effects that only manifest at the turning points of epochs and legends.”

How did that link back to the fears of a magic god?

Ollerus continued.

“Magic gods bend reality to their will. This isn’t inherently an issue, but they may not always be able to return it back to normal. They live in the world where any desire, no matter how childish, becomes real—say, turning all the water in sewage pipes into orange juice. After bending reality time and time again, they run the risk of doing significant harm. Even if they try to revert things, once reality is too distorted, they may actually lose sight of what the original world was like in the first place. Where a magic god reigns, one meter can be longer or shorter, and one gram can be lighter or heavier.”

“Okay, so that’s the fear. What’s the wish?”

“Well, that kind of a world would be terrifying, right? You’d want some kind of insurance, just in case you go too far changing things to fit your whims, wouldn’t you? Broadly speaking, that would be a backup or a restore point for the world or a point of reference. Your right hand is kind of like the International Prototype of the Kilogram, I’d say. Even if someone warps the world beyond recognition, even if they forget the length of a meter or the weight of a gram, your right hand can cancel out all sorcery. The reference point would still exist. By taking your right hand and measuring the length, weight, temperature, and all that, the person who twisted reality too far would be able to recall what the former world had been like. Imagine Breaker would be a lifeline that lets them revert the world back at any time, no matter how drastically they’ve warped it.”

That was the wish.

With insurance, a magic god could indulge themselves to their heart’s content.

They wouldn’t need any restraint or mercy. They could throw their desires and ambitions around as much as they wanted.

In that sense, the wish—created unilaterally by the person in charge of the changes—was an incredibly selfish one.

“Powers much like yours have appeared throughout history. They might take the form of a weapon, passing into the hand of valiant heroes. Or they could be a wall painting rumored to cure those who touch it of any illnesses. Or perhaps a cave that functions as a trial of some sort… The thing in your hand right now could just be another one of those forces. Or it could be multiple, occurring naturally, all assembled into a different form each time that wish is lost. I don’t know. But I do know this: Your right hand functions as the world’s reference point.”

Ollerus paused there, then went even further.

“The magic god Othinus hates how the world allowed Academy City, the science side, to win. She wants to distort it. From her point of view, not only does a backup have no value, it’s actively her greatest opposition. Even if Gremlin changed the age we live in, if something still remained that would allow it to be restored, they wouldn’t wish for it. They would fear it. Hence why she doesn’t seek Imagine Breaker… I mean, look at her organization. The only way to move forward they can think of is to cut off their lifelines anyway, right? Insurance is pointless to them. It’s just a foul temptation. And there is no greater insurance than the all-nullifying Imagine Breaker.”

8

It was evening. Normally, this was about the time when everyone headed home from school, but this restriction had been lifted now that prep for the Ichihanaran Festival was underway. Kamijou had been temporarily released from school for only a short break to refresh himself.

“…I’m screwed.”

Index would still be in his dorm room, but it didn’t seem like he’d be able to get back there anytime soon. While festival setup was partially to blame for this, he also doubted he’d have time for any detours until he figured out why Ollerus was here and whether he could be certain of their safety.

Academy City’s security was incredibly tight.

While many sorcerers had slipped inside before, Kamijou doubted it had been an easy task. They couldn’t have entered without taking on significant costs and risks to themselves. What, then, merited Ollerus coming here? It couldn’t have only been to answer Kamijou’s questions, surely.

A skin-piercing chill had already crept up on him.

He felt a kind of loss in his heart, possibly because he’d left the hustle and bustle of his classroom. The feeling seemed to make him remember them: Ollerus, who should have become a magic god, and Othinus, who had exceeded him and actually become one. And then there was Gremlin. How much longer would this pointless, peaceful interlude last? Would Kamijou go after Gremlin, or would Gremlin come to Academy City for him? Whatever happened, the feeling in the air wouldn’t keep going forever. And that made the thoughts rush back.

The chaos in Hawaii.

The hell in Baggage City.

They weren’t just random incidents happening throughout the world. Academy City had directly caused them. Plus, if Gremlin’s goal was to object to Academy City having achieved victory in the era in which they lived, then he couldn’t even deny the possibility this city was the focal point for the global disturbances.

The snowball of violence hurtled toward him. What would he be able to protect? And for how long?

Kamijou couldn’t find a clear answer to those questions. Still, even though his lack of ability to answer was to be expected of a Japanese high schooler with average fighting ability, it was clear he was not currently in a position to give up on the answers altogether—because Gremlin and the magic god Othinus viewed Imagine Breaker as a threat.

Combat—deadly combat—was inevitable at this point. Now it came down to when, where, and how it would begin.

“……”

Kamijou shivered candidly as he imagined this place, these streets ripe with a festival-prep mood, morphing into what Baggage City had been.

Defeat was self-evident. There would be situations where he wouldn’t make it in time. And even if he did, even if he arrived before it was all over, he could barely even think of what he’d be able to do about it. This was the worst kind of chaos. He couldn’t let anything connect this city to such a horrible outcome.

That was Kamijou’s deep, unshaking viewpoint.

Just then…

“Misaka…?” he muttered, suddenly spotting among the crowds someone he knew: a girl with short brown hair, wearing the uniform of the renowned Tokiwadai Middle School. An expensive-looking coat was draped over her shoulders. Was she out buying things to prep for the Ichihanaran Festival, too?

She was number three in Academy City. A girl nicknamed Railgun, who possessed the most powerful of all electric-producing abilities.

Their eyes suddenly met.

When Mikoto recognized him, she walked over.

Kamijou raised a hand. “Hey, Misaka. Are you out on prep wor—?”

He didn’t have time to finish.

Whump!!!!!!

Without mercy, without restraint, Mikoto Misaka abruptly slammed down her fist on the top of his head.

She’d put everything she had into that blow.

Kamijou’s vision blinked on and off for a moment. Tears came to his eyes as he fell into an anguished crouch. Meanwhile, Mikoto snorted at him.

“…For someone who left me out to dry back in Hawaii, you’re sure being friendly, aren’t you?”

“Ah, agh…”

“I don’t have any idea how the heck you convinced yourself that your debt was repaid, but I’m ready to blow my freaking top. I should beat you to a pulp and stuff you in the dumpsters over there. In fact, I might be furious enough to.”

“…I’m, uh, I’m really sorry.”

“Not good enough!!! Nowhere near good enough, pal!!!”

“Look, even Mr. Kamijou accepts responsibility on every front this time, okay?”

“Sure, sure. But I bet you’re secretly happy I didn’t have to see all the stuff that happened after that, aren’t you? I bet you’re feeling heroic now, you selfish prick.”

“……”

“God, at least deny it!!! Learn your freaking lesson already! When it comes to pure fighting power, I’m definitely stronger than you, remember?! Ask me for help!!! I’m telling you, I’m here to help, so let me!!!”

As Mikoto yelled and shrieked at him, Kamijou had a thought. If Gremlin were to invade Academy City, would he ask for her help then?

He’d managed by himself in Hawaii.

But he’d taken a grievous blow in Baggage City, one he’d been powerless to stop.

Was that a good enough reason to ask for her help? Was it a good enough reason to prevent her from getting involved?

Maybe this was the opportunity to decide, once and for all, his stance on the matter.

“Hey, Misaka?”

“What now?”

“You remember what happened in Hawaii, right?”

“…Yeah, when you tossed me out like yesterday’s trash? In another country, no less?”

“I’m being serious. Think of all the havoc Gremlin caused back there. Then consider a group that would make them look like just the start of it all. If that group showed up in Academy City, do you really think it would be right to put your friends on the front lines?”

“…Hmm.”

“I’ll be honest. I know I’m being contradictory. Like yeah, I want as much help as I can get, but if I let someone I know get wrapped up with monsters like them, I feel like it would be easier to just handle it all myself.”

“That’s not a very fair question,” decided Mikoto.

A moment later, something else happened.

“But you’re too late to be worrying about that now. And it’ll cost you your life.”

Suddenly, the girl’s tone shifted.

A brilliant light exploded from the tip of her right hand. This made Kamijou realize something was odd about everything that had just transpired.

That first punch she’d dealt him.

Why would Mikoto Misaka, the girl who reflexively shot high-voltage electrical currents from her bangs at him, use brute strength instead of her ability?

“You… What…?!”

“Still don’t get it, do you? I’m about to lap you.”

Whhrrrshhhh!!!!!! The noise thundered like a baseball bat swinging at full speed, pushing the air away from it. But that wasn’t the essential threat—it was the light shining from the right hand of Mikoto, or whoever it was.

…An arc discharge? Like a burner used for welding or fusing?!

Kamijou’s vision blurred terribly.

He dropped his hips as the fusing blade passed straight overhead in a sideways swipe. With a burst of light like a camera flash, it brutally sliced through the propeller of the wind turbine behind him.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. Didn’t realize you’d figured out how to do more than just block stuff. If you’d tried it with my attack just now, you’d have been done for as soon as you stopped.”

There was more than just one slice.

The tall pole toppled into several chunks like a daikon radish chopped up for dinner. The reason was simple: Each of the five fingers on Mikoto’s right hand was producing an arc fusion blade.

She could probably do that with her ability.

If he recalled correctly, though, she usually relied on a sword made of iron sand in close combat. This wasn’t about what she was or wasn’t capable of, however; an arc fusion blade didn’t seem to fit her principles or interests.

“Why…you…!!!”

As Kamijou’s face erupted in fury, the person wearing Mikoto’s skin tried to thrust their left hand at his head. Five more arc fusion blades were sprouting from those fingers, too. The attacker used their arm like a pile bunker, thrusting and firing in a single action.

Swinging his head away from the blades, Kamijou let loose a right uppercut at his opponent’s left wrist. It connected. Imposter-Mikoto’s left arm bounced upward. Kamijou took a step in, twisting himself into the open space, and grabbed Imposter-Mikoto’s neck with his right hand to shove her into a nearby bench back first.

As he held her there, he cried, “You’re not Mikoto! Who are you?!”

He heard a crackle.

The skin of whoever was pretending to be Mikoto Misaka began to split around the wrist he had his hand around. As Kamijou stared in blank amazement, the tears in the imposter’s skin widened. Not across her whole body, exactly. Everything that gave Mikoto her form, including the coat and hair clip she wore, began to show cracks.

“I think you know what I am.”

As the fissures widened and ran through her body, someone spoke from her partially missing lips.

A moment later, the collapse of the imposter’s false body went past the point of no return.

The image of Mikoto shattered into a million pieces, exposing an effeminate young man with pale skin and blond hair.

He smiled thinly, his throat still pinned to the bench.

“I guess I’ll introduce myself. Thor, god of thunder, at your service. I’m on direct combat duty for Gremlin… And as you’ve gathered, we are already inside the city.”

INTERLUDE ONE

…The kindly priest spoke.

“Have this girl hold a burned stone. If our Lord would attest to her innocence and protect her, then she will not be burned. However, if she is burned, then she is a witch.”

…The kindly priest spoke.

“Sink this girl deep underwater. If our Lord would attest to her innocence and protect her, then she will not suffer even in the water. However, if she comes back up for air, then she is a witch.”

…The kindly priest spoke.

“Hang this girl from the tower in a large cage. If our Lord would attest to her innocence and protect her, then she will not suffer even hanging there for a month. However, if she becomes tormented by hunger, then she is a witch.”

…The kindly priest spoke.

…The kindly priest spoke.

…The kindly priest spoke.

The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke. The kindly priest spoke.

“A​h​h, ah​h​h​h. A​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h-h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h?!”

As the kindly priest looks at me, he opens his eyes wide and falls down onto his rear. But what could possibly be the problem? Am I dressed that strangely? I don’t recall doing anything vulgar or improper.

“Wh-wh-why, why? How?!”

The entire stone plaza in the center of this small town is abuzz, too. How very odd. What has them all so mystified?

The kindly priest, his head cocked, points at my face and wails about something.

But the words go in and out of my ear, stopping and starting. I can’t hear them.

“Y-you, you, Fräulein Kreutune… What…? You…?!”

“Yes? Excuse me, but what about me?”

“You! You!!! All those trials forced upon you!!! So, so many!!! And yet you still live! How?! Why does your skin glow like that?! How? Why?! How?!”

What a strange thing to say. I cock my head. A smile slips out. “Oh, kindly priest, did the words not come from your very own lips?”

“Huh? Eh?”

“If I am innocent, our Lord will protect me.”

“…Ngh!!!”

The kindly priest squeezes the cross on his necklace so tightly that it digs into his skin. Red drops fall from his hand, and soon, the force of his grip begins to distort the small piece of metal.

“You… A monster like you… How dare you speak of our Lord!!! We bound you hand and foot and threw you in the lake. We tied you to the top of the tower. We let you be struck by lightning. We incinerated you with flames! And yet you still smile! You…you witch!!!”

“Now, let me ask you, kindhearted priest.”

I spread my arms wide, accepting everything with the same generosity with which I would welcome a friend, and ask my question.

“Have you at last run dry of ordeals to set upon me? Umm, and just to be certain… If none of the ordeals have wounded me, then what treatment am I to receive?”

CHAPTER 2

Who Is My Real Enemy?

Secret_Promise.

1

Dinner for two at a neighborhood hamburger joint with Thor, the thunder god, a combat specialist belonging to Gremlin.

“…What is this?”

“What is this? It’s their brand-new salsa burger, remember? Urk. It’s a little too unique, if you catch my drift. The flavor is way too rich. And holy crap, it’s spicy!!! Now I know why their bestselling large burger never goes out of style.”

“Not that, dumbass! Us! Here! We’re enemies!!! We ran into each other, and now we’re relaxing over a meal?! Don’t you see how messed up that is?!”

“Oh, come on. I just wanted to talk. Is that so weird? My Gremlin connections aside, you wouldn’t be speaking to me like that if I was a short girl with huge mommy milkers, sitting here exuding a protective instinct.”

“I wouldn’t? You underestimate me.”

“Please. That’s why I transformed myself into a girl, you know. I was being considerate.”

“Really? By what logic?”

“Well, I could go on and on about sorcery, but it would all be Greek to you. But right, let’s see. This one time in Norse mythology, the thunder god has his weapon stolen. So to lure out the thief, he transforms into Freyja, a superhot goddess babe. That’s the legend I based my transformation spell on when I composed it. Too bad I can only become girls because of how the story works.”

“…How do you know about what me and Misaka talked about in Hawaii?”

“Right. When you guys wrapped everything up, the F.C.E.’s surveillance network—using all those cameras in the U.S.—was still in operation. Gremlin heard everything. You know, that Misaka chick really gives off a ‘pure maiden’ vibe, eh?”

“No​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o!!! My yo​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​o​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u-u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​u​th!!!” screamed Kamijou, cradling his head in his hands.

Thor the thunder god laughed, obviously entertained. “Hey, no worries. At this point in your life, why get embarrassed over little things like that, right?”

“You’re being so violent with your words! I knew you wanted to fight!”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Thor nodded, making his blond hair sway a little. “It’s just, like…Hawaii and Baggage City, right? To be honest, I’m not into battles like those. I guess since I decide everything based on my likes and dislikes, I’m probably one of the bad guys, but still.”

“……”

“C’mon, eat something. Don’t just clam up. I’m not treating you. Anything you waste is money coming out of your own pocket.”

Possibly due to his distaste for spicy food, Thor took only that one big bite of the salsa burger before settling on his soda and salad instead… Had the allure of a brand-new addition to the menu won out over his aversion to heat?

Kamijou grabbed the paper hamburger wrapping to keep the red sauce off his fingers. “Anyway, what do you want to talk about?” he asked. “Are you here to declare war?”

“It’d be real easy if I could, but no. Stuff can get tangled pretty badly even if you stay quiet. I guess, before I get into the meat and potatoes of all this, I should unravel all that stuff.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Ollerus,” said Thor, giving a single name—one that Kamijou couldn’t stay detached from, either. “He probably looked down on you and fed you some bullshit, right? And I bet you’re anxious about the crisis about to fall into our laps, aren’t you?”

“…Fed me bullshit? You mean he was lying to me?”

“And you’ve got a vortex of concern bubbling inside; you’re worried you’re fighting for someone else’s schemes. Just like with Leivinia Birdway in Hawaii and Kagun Kihara in Baggage City.”

“……”

“Hey, don’t glare at me. Look, I get it. We’re to blame for all that. But can I ask you something? Do you actually think you can magically trust Ollerus is completely good-hearted and on the side of justice just because Gremlin are the masterminds here? And let me do you one better. True righteousness, true justice—those aren’t the right words for when someone uses violence to hurt others and unilaterally solve problems, are they?”

That wasn’t just about Ollerus. That perspective went against every choice Kamijou had ever made, too.

And Kamijou personally believed Thor wasn’t wrong about it.

Take Komoe Tsukuyomi.

Or Last Order.

Or Monaka Oyafune.

Good people in the truest sense, who’d sought justice in the truest sense. They were people who could choose not to fight at all, even in a predicament, and whose choices could save even their enemies.

Kamijou solved every problem with his fist. Those concepts were still far in the distance for him.

“Let’s talk about Ollerus, then, shall we? He’s just like Gremlin. He likes to resort to violence for everything,” said Thor, dipping a nugget in ketchup. “He didn’t come to Academy City alone.”

“He didn’t?”

“Sylvia, a saint. Fiamma of the Right, former essential leader of the now-defunct God’s Right Seat. Brunhild Eichtbel, the Valkyrie. Leivinia Birdway, the boss of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight sorcerer’s society. All monsters every bit as bad as Gremlin. And not one of them is just a simple sorcerer… Anyway, I’m pretty sure they’re all in Academy City because they sniffed out our plans and want to stop them.”

Leivinia Birdway.

The name produced an unpleasant stir in Kamijou’s chest.

The boss of the sorcerer’s society Dawn-Colored Sunlight. After Kamijou and the others had gone to Hawaii to solve the problem there, she’d tricked them, causing a major rift between Academy City and its cooperating organizations, kicking off the events that led to the mess in Baggage City.

But now wasn’t the time to get hung up on that.

“…Okay, and? They’re gonna protect the city folk from people like you, right?”

“If that was the case, why would they choose the inside of Academy City as their battlefield?” pointed out Thor, looking amazed Kamijou hadn’t figured it out. He tossed a nugget into his mouth. “If they actually wanted to protect the city, they’d have settled the score with us before sneaking inside, stupid. In simple terms, they would have stayed outside. A defensive perimeter around the city would make sense, whether it be out in the ocean around Japan or just the mountains around Kanto.”

He licked the ketchup and oil off his fingers, then lowered his voice a bit.

“…So why send such a massive fighting force inside of the city? Especially when they understand the threat Gremlin poses? They probably worked Gremlin’s entrance into their plans right from the start. Looks to me like they set it up so Academy City would be caught in the cross fire on purpose. But what do you think? Would someone who only wants peace do something like that?”

“……”

“Ollerus’s faction has its own goal, just as Gremlin does. To achieve it, they’re taking advantage of Academy City. That’s the arrangement we find ourselves in now. It doesn’t matter how effective they are; if we get violent in here, the city’s defense forces will focus on us and not them. I doubt they’d be able to kill me. But a tag team attack from both the science side and Ollerus’s faction? I’d need to prepare for that. That means I have to be very cautious how I play things here.”

Each individual sorcerer belonging to Gremlin wielded monstrous power, but that wasn’t the most fearsome part. It was the fact they were going to leverage the might of the organization as a whole.

“So what you’re saying is Ollerus and his goons want to steer the usual situation off the road and use it to disrupt Gremlin’s coordination…? And that’s the only reason they chose the city?”

“Could be. Just a hypothesis, though.”

Kamijou put his half-eaten burger on his tray, wrapper still attached. The conversation had stolen his appetite. These people dared to spark war through Academy City for their own ends? If that was true, then he’d been vastly mistaken about the current state of affairs.

“…Any idea what Ollerus is ultimately after?”

“Nope. Think about the opposition between Ollerus and Othinus. They found the domain of magic gods and decided to dive in headfirst. There’s no telling what their real goal is—at least, not for a regular old member like me.”

“And you just expect me to believe you?! The literal bad guy?!”

“I never said that, numbskull. The point I’m trying to get across is not to rely on a single source of information too much. Ollerus got a chance to talk at you, right? So listen to what we’re telling you this time. The more information you get, the better equipped you’ll be to make your own decision when the time comes. If you don’t want them to toy with you like a marionette anymore, then you’ve gotta start using your own head. And for that, you’ll want as much information as you can get. Am I wrong?”

“…Maybe not, but what are you after, then? No matter what path I choose, we’re still gonna be enemies.”

“Look, I’d be perfectly fine setting us up a nice little duel. Enemy battling against enemy and all that. But the situation you’re in is miserable. Everyone around you is only out for themselves. They’re desperate to grab your right hand and point it here and there like a monkey trainer. So what’s the point in us slugging us out? What is your perspective on all this?”

Thor wrestled with his salsa burger as though in the midst of a throwaway match, then continued. “I will say, though, there’s something weird about Ollerus. I see it here and there. I don’t know if it’s just his nature or if he got like that because he’s so close to being a magic god, but…”

“…?”

“At heart, the guy’s a philanthropist. He sees someone in trouble, and he’ll wield any amount of power to help them. But he tends to get tunnel vision because of that. I’ll give it to you straight—he’d annihilate a million soldiers just to save one kid he doesn’t know. I don’t know what he’s trying to save this time, but if it’s not Academy City, then he could decide he’s totally fine taking advantage of the city to save them.”

Kamijou couldn’t tell how much of what this boy told him was true.

But he didn’t understand Ollerus as a person, either. Ollerus had saved him in Baggage City, but that didn’t mean the sorcerer was a steadfast ally with no ulterior motives in any regard.

Just as it hadn’t meant that for the boss of the sorcerer’s society Dawn-Colored Sunlight—Leivinia Birdway.

Kamijou asked his next question carefully.

“…If Gremlin is up to no good and Ollerus and his people aren’t exactly the good guys, either, then where do you stand? You’re practically bragging about knowing all this stuff.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” said Thor the thunder god casually. “Gremlin’s in the city because they want something. Ollerus is here to stop them… Both of the parties are being really annoying and indecisive. But I think there’s a fun way to make both of them freak out so bad that they start frothing at the mouth. Don’t you?”

“?”

“The two of us find and rescue the prize of this little contest.”

2

The reconstructive surgery on Fremea Seivelun’s mouth was complete.

“Mgh. Mgh, mmmrrrrrrr…”

Fremea groaned at the strange feeling inside her cheeks, probably due to the results of the healing or the lingering aftereffects of anesthesia. Once they were safely outside the dentist’s office, she turned to Hamazura and Takitsubo—who were there to stop her from escaping—and spoke.

“Anyway, I want something to eat!”

“Did she not learn her lesson at all?! Even after crying and screaming that whole time?!”

A restless mood hung in the streets; prep for the Ichihanaran Festival was in full swing. It was basically a whole bunch of culture festivals, so stalls and such would normally stay on school premises. Now, though, all sorts of things lined the sidewalks, like stands selling inexpensive goods targeting the students currently helping set up. Hamazura couldn’t help but feel like it added an unexpected twist to the festive atmosphere formula.

Rikou Takitsubo, wearing her pink tracksuit, let her vacant gaze drift about, taking in the scene. “What should we do now, Hamazura?”

“I didn’t have any plans. We should get Fremea back to her dorm first.”

Say what you will, but Hamazura and Takitsubo currently lived under the same roof. Incidentally, the rest of Item was there, too, including Shizuri Mugino and Saiai Kinuhata. Calling it “shared housing” made it sound too nice; Hamazura couldn’t have dreamed of a more constrained scenario. He certainly wasn’t carefree enough to flirt with Takitsubo in front of the other girls, so if anything, he had to solve some pretty complex scheduling puzzles to be with her. (And during those times specifically, Takitsubo would often be absorbed in popping bubble wrap instead of looking at him anyway, for example.)

“Hamazura, we need to pick up detergent on the way home.”

“Right.”

“So get some money from the bank.”

“Sure thing.”

“But convenience store ATMs charge a fee, so we have to go before the bank’s ATM is locked for the night.”

“…Holistically speaking, this is so dull.”

“Hamazura?” The tracksuit girl lightly grabbed his arm and gave it a tug.

He frowned. “?”

“Fremea’s gone.”

Wsshhh-zpppp!!!!!! Hamazura’s head shot one way and then another in a complete panic, but the girl was already nowhere in sight.

He did hear a soprano voice yelling from the crowds, though.

“Nya-nyaaaa!!! Anyway, this says there’s thirty kinds of bite-size fruit marshmallows! I’m gonna keep eating until I get them all!!!”

“You damn runt!!! Aren’t you afraid of getting more fillings in your molars?!” cried Hamazura as he launched into a peacekeeping operation to secure the girl’s mouth. They simply couldn’t afford to excite any more jet-black guys with road construction machinery.

3

After finishing most of his hamburger meal, Thor, for whatever reason, made an additional order for hot coffee and cheesecake.

“…By the way, like, what do you think about the coffee at fast-food joints? Can you accept that it even exists?”

“Man, if you don’t like it, then don’t order it… Actually, I’m a guy who’s even happy with coffee in a can,” replied Kamijou, looking disheartened.

Thor took another sip of the cheap coffee; despite his attitude, he seemed to like it. “Anyway, where were we?”

“The magic god Othinus and Gremlin are fighting over something with the not-quite-magic-god Ollerus and his heavy hitters, and we’re supposed to get whatever that is before they do.” Kamijou wiped his greasy fingers with a paper napkin. “But what even is it?”

“Othinus is after someone,” Thor answered simply. “A person who isn’t tainted by sorcery or science—in other words, someone who might swing either way. Plus, because of all the physical strain, they’d need to be so durable they can just shake off modifications that would cause any normal person to die of shock.”

“…Yeah, I don’t get it.”

“If I’m being honest, neither do we. There is one name that stood out to us in our historical records of the witch hunts, the most ridiculous disturbance in the Middle Ages, though. Back then, the clergy were totally okay with slaughtering anyone they found suspicious, along with anyone they were jealous of or simply hated as a little bonus. But this lady? She was so durable that the holy men couldn’t kill her, so they gave up. A very strange incident.”

“……”

Kamijou couldn’t quite see how everything Thor had mentioned linked back to the present situation. These records or whatever were from centuries ago, weren’t they? And Academy City was Japan’s headquarters of science, so he doubted all that stuff had anything to do with it.

When he asked Thor about this, the thunder god gave him an easy response. “That incident isn’t over.”

“…What?”

“That woman? The one who they tried to immolate and crush with a giant spindle, but she just kept on smiling? Apparently, not even the flow of time could slow her down. It’s all contiguous. She might have appeared in records dating centuries back, but she didn’t end with those documents. We should assume she’s still out there somewhere, smiling that smile of hers.”

“She’s…she’s still…alive…?”

“Yup. Course, you need more than just durability to live that long. Whoever she is, her core, the foundation of her essence, must be something else. Her exceptional durability is probably only a single facet of her essence.” Thor tried to split off a piece of his cheesecake with his plastic fork, but it just got smooshed instead. “And if you ask me, she’s more than likely in Academy City right now.”

“Wait, why? If she appears in records of the witch hunts, wouldn’t that link her to the sorcery side instead?”

“This woman just so happened to get caught up in the witch hunts; they were a huge thing in European society back then. So we don’t actually know which side her essence belongs to. It might not even fit in with either.”

Thor stabbed the smooshed cheesecake with his fork, but before he could get it into his mouth, it plopped back down onto his plate. Seeing that, he just picked up the blob with his fingers and tossed it into his mouth that way.

“But if Academy City did secure her, then it can’t be because they want to use her for some kind of scientific research… If that was the case, the research results would be out and be easier to understand.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“A last resort.” Thor licked his fingers and smiled thinly. “After all, leaving aside the why and how, those awful religious courts proved she can’t be killed by any means. Even if that woman did run contrary to the intentions of Academy City leadership, they can’t exactly assassinate her to get her out of the picture. She only needs to smile her smile and wander around the globe to shatter the plans of world leaders. So like I said, nobody can kill her to remove her from the world. In that light, if the leaders had their collective panties in a wad about it, how do you think they’d have gained control over the situation?”

“They can’t kill her to silence her. But letting her walk free would be a problem for them. She’s apparently in Academy City, but nobody’s ever heard of her…” Kamijou thought for a moment. “Wait. Could she be locked up in some kind of prison? Like, a closely guarded one?”

“She certainly could.” Thor took another sip of coffee and scowled, probably because he’d just finished the sweet cake. “She’s unkillable. So to separate her from the rest of the world, you’d have to take away her freedom. That would be the easiest, fastest way. I bet she’s isolated even from the rest of this city, trapped behind the walls of the most impenetrable building here… And that makes the situation way more annoying than it needs to be.”

The most impenetrable structure here.

Kamijou frowned and thought about what that could be for a moment.

Would it be a District 22 shelter? That place had a sprawling underground mall. Or maybe District 2 or District 23, with all their secrets…?

But Thor shook his head and said, “There’s one place that’s even more obvious.”

“?”

“The Windowless Building.”

So simply, so casually, Thor the thunder god named the very heart of Academy City.

“The greatest fortress in this city—the one said to be the personal castle of Aleister, chairperson of the Academy City General Board. That’s where Fräulein Kreutune is locked up.”

4

There was once an experiment known as Project Dark May.

A research institution that lay in a particularly dark part of Academy City’s underbelly had implemented it. The gist of their objective was to analyze the thought patterns of Accelerator, the strongest Level Five in the city, and implant parts of that into other espers in order to boost their baseline capabilities.

Few of the participants could be called successes.

Even fewer were still alive.

…However.

“Look, I just—”

“I’m, like, super annoyed right now, so please don’t talk to me.”

Two girls walked down an Academy City street at sunset, surrounded by the giddy atmosphere of Ichihanaran Festival preparation. Both were survivors of that nightmarish project, Level Four espers who could control the nitrogen in the air.

One was Saiai Kinuhata.

A girl of around twelve, she wore a fluffy knit one-piece dress and had her brown hair in a bob. Her ability was called Nitrogen Armor, which specialized in defense. She could cover herself with armor made of nitrogen that hovered just a few centimeters from her body, automatically blocking or parrying most attacks that came at her. The coating was so tough that it could easily block a bullet from a sniper rifle.

The other was Umidori Kuroyoru.

She was also about twelve, wearing a black leather punk outfit consisting of pants and a tank top, plus a white coat, its hood hanging from her head. Her hair was long and black, except for the part around her ears, where it was dyed yellow. Her ability was called Bomber Lance, which specialized in offense. She could create spears of nitrogen from her palms, each up to a few meters long… Oh, and she wasn’t just an esper but also a cyborg. By equipping additional mechanical arms, she could make as many spears at once as she wanted.

Both girls belonged to Academy City’s underworld.

Neither cleanly fit into the “victim” category, as each possessed a vicious personality.

Their dispositions were such that the two couldn’t even comprehend the idea of getting along just because they had been forced into the same shady experiment.

In fact, the mood between them was so tense that if a pin dropped, their arms would instantly cross, each girl aiming for the other’s throat.

Kuroyoru scowled.

“…I know it’s rich coming from me, but what the hell are you up to? I’ve got no clue where you stand. If you’re just trying to protect Fremea Seivelun, wouldn’t it be faster to just kill me and bury me somewhere?”

“Oh, I totally will if I have the chance. Unlike Hamazura, I have, like, literally no intention of getting along with you any more than I have to. So, like, don’t worry.”

“Who is that Hamazura guy anyway? You’re doing this on his orders, too, aren’t you? And you’re listening to him…why, exactly? We’ve got the thought patterns of a demon inside us. Aren’t we made to destroy anyone who gives us orders?”

“No, like, that’s just you. You’re the one who got implanted with his offensive nature. I’m specialized in defense, so I literally don’t care. And Hamazura didn’t order me, either, though I’m sure you can’t even, like, wrap your head around us not having someone who bosses everyone else around,” said Kinuhata.

“Yeah, whatever. Where the hell are you going?” asked Kuroyoru dubiously.

For the first time, Kinuhata grinned. But it wasn’t a smile in the way most people did it, with kindness and thoughtfulness. No, this was more a grin of dark delight, perhaps.

She gave this answer: “To the same place as Fremea Seivelun.”

“Eh?”

“Ta-daa!!! The scariest, most terrifying dentist’s office in all of District 7, nicknamed the Cave of Heroes!!!”

There was a ruckus. It was the sound of Kuroyoru automatically stepping back, then Kinuhata’s grabbing the top of the girl’s tank top. Kinuhata gave her a full smile.

“…There’s no point in, like, hiding it. Hamazura picks up on even the tiniest changes in his friends. We know how much it bothers you that your molars don’t quite align.”

“Friends?! This is how you treat friends?!”

“Hey, don’t worry, I hate the thought of it, too, so I brought you to this dentist’s office. It’s the best around, and it’s the one all the little kids in town, like, fear the most.”

“…Rgh!!!”

“Wait, are you scared? You’re telling me the representative of the almighty Freshmen, Umidori Kuroyoru, is scared of a dentist? Wait, are you a crybaby? Like, if he told you to raise your hand if it hurt, you would actually do it?”

“I… Look, I…!!! I’m a cyborg!!! If something goes wrong with a body part, I swap it with an artificial one! That’s the whole point!!! I don’t need anyone shaving down my molars! It’s inefficient!!! I might as well just swap out all my teeth right now, easy! What’s the point of any of this…?!”

“Right, right. Anyway, let’s get you inside. And don’t worry, I brought your insurance card.”

“…Now, you listen to me, you little bitch. Run your mouth one more time, and I’ll do more than rip a tooth out of it. I’ll disassemble your whole body.”

Kuroyoru exhaled a quick breath, then tried to create a nitrogen spear that could even cut through steel plate from the palm of her hand, but…

“?”

“See? Like, nothing’s happening,” said Kinuhata.

“What…?! What the hell is going on…?!”

“Hmm. Your ability is super reliant on mechanical arms, right? Hamazura, like, stuck some chewing gum in the terminal in your cyborg parts. Must’ve ruined the contacts. And you can’t use your power without arms. Ha-ha-ha! Now you’re totally just a harmless civilian. Problem solved, right?”

“I’m sorry, what?! Did you do something to me while I was asleep?! Why are we bothering about cavities when there’s a foreign object inside my body?! Isn’t that more dangerous?!”

“Haaa-ha-ha. Doesn’t matter what you say. In Academy City’s underbelly, only the fittest survive. So, like, anyway, let’s get into the dentist’s office, my interim Level Zero. Resistance is, like, futile.”

Dragging Kuroyoru, who was actually starting to tear up, behind her, Kinuhata passed through the doors of the dentist’s office.

5

The Windowless Building.

The personal castle of Aleister, Academy City General Board chairperson.

Apparently, that was where a woman named Fräulein Kreutune was imprisoned. For whatever reason, Gremlin was out to get her, and Ollerus’s team was prepared to stop them by any means necessary.

The Windowless Building was, of course, known for its sturdiness. But did common sense even matter to people like those?

It seemed safe to assume the important bit when it came to Fräulein Kreutune wasn’t the fact she was in a known, locked-down location—but that her location wasn’t even known at all.

Easy to say.

Nevertheless.

It boiled down to this.

“We have to personally break into the most impenetrable fortress in Academy City. Before anyone else does.” Thor took a sip of his coffee, which had cooled off, before continuing. “That’s our best shot. Othinus is obviously leading Gremlin in an attempt to get their hands on the woman. They know they’ll need to do something about the Windowless Building, but they won’t use petty tricks. The building is said to be completely indestructible. But they want to take it on headfirst and try to demolish it anyway.”

“……”

“Not even nukes can make a dent in that thing. But if it means getting their hands on the woman, Gremlin will still try and smash it. And Ollerus just wants to make sure Gremlin doesn’t get their hands on her, right? It’s perfectly possible they could somehow put a deadly curse on her without even getting inside.”

“Wait, I thought we were assuming Fräulein Kreutune couldn’t be killed.”

“That’s the theory put forth in sane histories. Do you think someone on Ollerus’s level will have to care about that? Even I don’t understand the mechanism underlying Fräulein Kreutune’s supposed immortality. But if they uncover it, they might be able to reverse engineer it and find a way to kill her. We should assume two blades are already at her jugular.”

On one side, Gremlin could have enough firepower to destroy the building, even though the structure was supposedly impervious to nuclear weapons.

On the other side, Ollerus’s group could have the sorcery to kill the woman, even though she was supposedly so durable that everyone had given up on putting her to death.

Both groups were monstrous.

Both were of an entirely different order of magnitude.

Then again.

On the other hand.

“…Is it even possible?” Kamijou murmured.

“Is what possible?”

“That Windowless Building is supposed to be impenetrable. How are we gonna get in there?”

“Well, it’s very literally impenetrable—no ways in or out. Every wall around it is built to withstand nuclear attacks, and it has its own infrastructure inside that can keep it operating independently from the rest of the city. The people who really need to get inside apparently do so with the help of a teleport esper, but we have to assume they cover their own Achilles’ heel.”

“Well, then—”

“That said, it’s still a system someone created. Humans have figured out how to get to the moon. I’ve already thought of a way in. I’m just waiting to hear what you decide to do. So? How about it?”

“……”

“And just so you know, I’m not on your side here. I’ve got ulterior motives just like the next guy. So let go of your meaningless suspicion I might betray you. You’re only supposed to double-cross people at the very end. And I’m asking you to come anyway—because you can cut me off when necessary, too, and say it’s fair play.”

Thor shook his paper cup, swirling the dark liquid inside.

“…And no matter what ulterior motives anybody has, Fräulein Kreutune is guiltless. That much is clear. She did something someone didn’t like and ended up being dragged into their awful witch hunt entertainment, their torture, and then she got thrown in a dark room with no exit and left there to rot. It’s wrong is what it is. Don’t you think so? …Just as I plan to pursue my own motives, you’re free to betray me the second the woman is safe and sound. Simple, right?”

“……”

“Hey, don’t give me the silent treatment. You gotta give me a yes or no on this.” Thor smiled thinly, then asked, “Are you in or out?”

6

Academy City had been infiltrated by two groups: Gremlin, led by the magic god Othinus, and some monsters under the command of Ollerus. Both groups shared an objective: Fräulein Kreutune, the woman locked up in the impenetrable fortress that was the Windowless Building.

After causing so much destruction in Baggage City, Gremlin wanted to get their hands on Fräulein Kreutune because she had a nigh-impervious constitution. There was no telling what would become of her if they succeeded.

Meanwhile, Ollerus and his group believed preventing the success of Gremlin’s conspiracy in any way would be a massive success. If left up to them, the results might still not be favorable for Fräulein Kreutune.

They would move immediately.

Time was up.

“……”

Kamijou frantically waded through his limited pool of information. Who would it be better to ally with? Ollerus? Thor? Or Academy City, a place that continued to suppress all information about Fräulein Kreutune? Every party was perfectly capable of hiding their own true intentions and interests, and they were in fact doing so. Kamijou tried to use what everyone had told him to see through to the truth of the matter; it had to exist behind all the noise.

And after that.

He arrived at his conclusion.

“…I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“There isn’t evidence for anything you’ve told me. If Fräulein Kreutune is imprisoned in the Windowless Building, then yeah, that’s an issue. But nothing even proves she’s even there at all.”

“……”

“And besides, you’re telling me you want to betray Gremlin to save her? That’s unbelievable, right up front. What reason could you possibly have? If you were part of Gremlin at all, then you would have had shared interests with the rest of the group. And I know they’d really put you through the wringer if you turned traitor. And yet you’re here, going against Gremlin, approaching me instead. Why?”

“……”

“I agree with you. Ollerus isn’t necessarily a purehearted, good person or whatever. But to use that as proof I should ally with you instead? What kind of logic is that? I’d sooner believe you were lying about Fräulein Kreutune and all that stuff about attacking the Windowless Building. It would make more sense. You’re probably trying to lure me into doing something to achieve a goal you haven’t revealed. I should assume that—”

“Ha​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h.”

An interruption.

Thor brushed his bangs up and back, breathing a very long and very shallow sigh.

As Kamijou frowned, Thor spoke again, as if to explain himself.

“…Well, yeah. After what happened in Hawaii and Baggage City, I’m not surprised you’d mistrust people. Including the pity and sympathy.

“However,” he continued. He downed the rest of his cold coffee and lightly crumpled the paper cup.

“Feels to me like my enemy is so much smaller than he used to be.”

It happened right then.

A moment later, Kamijou’s vision blurred.

After tossing aside his paper cup, Thor had grabbed Kamijou by the hair and slammed him face-first into the synthetic resin table. Kamijou only realized this after the ripples of intense pain began to spread from his nose to the rest of the face and thinking he’d heard a muffled whump!!

It wasn’t quite dinnertime, and he certainly heard the students congregating in the no-smoking seats for a break start screaming all of a sudden.

Thor ignored them.

When Kamijou stood up, Thor—hand still latched on to his hair—twisted his hips to add rotational force. As Kamijou panicked from the sudden burst of pain, Thor tossed him aside. Kamijou smacked into the floor, though not before scattering a few tables, all of the same design.

The students directly affected by this shrieked and hastened away. A short distance off, in what was essentially a safe zone, people almost cursed at having their juice or other beverages almost spilled. But when they saw Thor, their throats dried up.

Maybe that was a reasonable reaction. They’d never been involved with violence beyond the level of a street brawl.

And the violence Thor wielded was beyond that of any killer.

“If you’re gonna be that glum about it, then fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“Gah, geh…urgh…?!”

“But you know…”

No matter what anyone thought, he believed his expression was still calm—at least for now. Ignoring the frightened onlookers, Thor slowly walked up to Kamijou.

“Lies? Motives? Who the hell cares about any of that stuff? There’s a woman rotting away in a cell. That should be enough for you to help her. What does it matter what someone’s ulterior motives are or what other people are after?! A woman is imprisoned by herself in a dark room for a completely unfair reason! That should be sufficient grounds for you to save her, you coward! I was hoping for an excellent enemy to face—but you sure ain’t acting like him!”

Kamijou recovered from the shock, but before he could get up, Thor’s foot landed squarely in his gut, knocking the air out of him. Thor ignored that, kicking Kamijou’s stomach another two or three times.

Nobody stopped him.

In fact, nobody even ran away. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing: If someone went straight for the exit and pissed off Thor, they’d be struck by a chance blow. Nobody wanted to be the first.

“Sure, maybe some assholes with ulterior movies played you like a fiddle in Hawaii and Baggage City. So what? What the hell does that have to do with the woman suffering now? You’re gonna let those miserable experiences make you abandon her smile?! Because if you are, if you seriously are, then there’s no hope for you. The only reason you’ve been tolerated in the professional world until now has been the fact you only ever think about saving people, no matter if you succeed or fail in the end. If you don’t even have that anymore, that means your fist is just a tool for you to fulfill your own selfish desires now!!! Is this getting through your head?!”

Phwump. The next kick sounded muffled.

But no. It wasn’t Thor’s toes digging into Kamijou’s stomach. Right before that happened, Kamijou had caught the thunder god’s foot with both hands and protected himself.

“…Shut…the hell up.”

His growl was so low that it could shake the earth.

“…I don’t know if you remember, but Gremlin started all this. How dare you lecture me as if you’re any better. This has nothing to do with Leivinia Birdway’s ulterior motives. And another thing!!! You and the rest of Gremlin, too!! If you hadn’t started throwing your weight around across the globe, you wouldn’t be causing all this suffering to begin with!!! Not in Hawaii, not in Baggage City, and not even this time with Fräulein Kreutune!!!”

“Listen, you…”

Thor raised his right foot away from Kamijou’s hands slightly, pretending he didn’t want him grabbing his leg. But in reality, he used his somewhat raised foot to brutally stomp down on the prone Kamijou’s abdomen.

“Geh, brph?! Gh, gah, ga​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a​a-h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h​h?!”

“Did you miss the part where I’m trying to stop Othinus and her cronies from causing a disaster even if it means leaving Gremlin?! The infighting in Hawaii? The collapse in Baggage City? Do you think every single person in Gremlin wanted that shit to happen?!”

“Gah… Grph…”

“Screw Othinus. She left us all out in the cold to sneak around and plot, and then we realize she’s putting actual goddamn effort into bullying the weak. Yeah, that’s right. I don’t have any grand ulterior motives. None of that shit. I don’t like her, so I’m gonna kill her. And I’ll betray Gremlin to do it!!!”

He swung his right foot farther out this time, then slammed it into Kamijou’s stomach like a soccer player kicking a ball downfield. Kamijou flew a couple of meters.

Thor continued. “But what you said is pretty grand. What do you have? You just reject everyone else’s viewpoint and suspect them of a million different schemes. And where does that leave you? …I don’t know if you get off on tragedy or if you’re trying to pretend to be wise or something. Before, you shined. Now, you don’t. I’d rather have the old you back. The one who got tricked and deceived by a million other people but still managed to rescue a crying girl.”

“…How many lives do you think were at risk in Hawaii? Or in Baggage City?” said Kamijou almost to himself. He grabbed a fallen table and got himself to his feet. “The answer is I don’t know. Too many people to count got mixed up in the fighting. And every single choice I made had the potential to make it better or worse!!! It’s not just a numbers game. This is people’s lives we’re talking about! What the hell is wrong with being careful?!”

“Careful? You’re hesitating. You sure doing that is the best idea right now?”

Kzzztt!! came a snapping noise. Thor’s fingertip glowed with some kind of pale-blue light.

A light representing his very name.

Scorching lightning like an arc fusion cutter, capable of slicing through thick steel plate.

“But if you’re just too scared to make a decision…,” Thor said. “If you’re just too afraid to accept the results of any decision you make…”

He walked closer.

“Using that as a reason to abandon someone in need makes you a villain. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The blow came from the side.

The pale-blue sparks had swelled to the size of a sword, and they slammed mercilessly into Kamijou’s neck. The sparks exploded. As the light scattered, it melted through the synthetic resin tables that had been haphazardly mowed down and ignited nearby objects, like the hamburger wrapper.

However.

Even after he was hit with an arc fusion cutter that could slice through ten-centimeter-thick steel plates like a goldfish-scooping net, Kamijou’s head remained on his body.

The reason: his right hand.

With Imagine Breaker, Kamijou had dispersed the sparking blade Thor had unleashed.

“Don’t look down on me,” he spat, then spoke more clearly.

“…I’ve never had any ulterior motives, either!!!”

Just as more pale-blue sparks began to appear at Thor’s fingertips, Kamijou jumped and grabbed his right fist. The steel-plate-cutting blade vanished before it could be fully formed.

Using the instant where Thor’s attention was on his hand, Kamijou hit the sorcerer in the gut with the hardest knee he could manage.

“Gh…gah!!!”

“I stay quiet and listen, and you start barking! What I’m saying is I hate it when someone I don’t even know brandishes something I did, not on anyone’s orders, but on my own!!!”

As Thor bent around the knee in his gut, Kamijou flung back his head, then slammed his forehead into the boy’s face.

There was a dull crack.

“I’ve stopped fights. I’ve saved crying girls. That’s enough for me, but everyone else wants a piece of the pie, too, and they change the results!!! If one plus one equaled two, nobody would have any problems. So how does it always end up being negative five or negative ten?! Is it even possible to rescue Fräulein Kreutune?! Will she actually be saved?! Tell me that!!!”

Seeing the sorcerer dazed, Kamijou let go of Thor’s right fist, then clenched his own right hand and went straight for the bridge of the boy’s nose.

But Thor blocked that with his left arm. At the same time, he tried to sweep Kamijou’s legs, but Kamijou stomped on Thor’s foot first.

“I saved them! And I can’t stand it anymore!!! I hate how people keep changing things to make me feel like I made them suffer instead!!! So let me prepare before I actually do something!!! Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?!”

“Now you’ve said it…,” murmured Thor.

Both his hands shot up, grabbing Kamijou’s collar. He lifted Kamijou straight up off the ground; Kamijou’s feet dangled above the street.

“So you won’t actually do anything? Because you don’t think it’s grand or worthwhile? Because you don’t know them? Because you’ve never met them? Because it’s not for you to get involved with? …That’s not it, is it, Touma Kamijou? You just said the answer yourself. Do you realize what stage of the process we’re in, and you’re already worrying, you moron?!”

Kamijou’s back crashed into the floor.

Without exaggeration, his breathing stopped dead for a moment.

Thor then sent another two or three fists raining down on his face.

Nevertheless, Kamijou twisted, barely escaping another punch—he’d lost count of which one this was.

After that, it was a brawl.

In general, it seemed like each boy was trying to straddle the other to pin him down. But even an incredibly simple goal like that grew hazy partway through. They punched, they got punched in returned, and they punched again. The process repeated until complex thought began to be stripped away from them.

It wasn’t clear what engendered this, but one way or another, Kamijou and Thor both stopped punching each other suddenly. One third of the right half of Kamijou’s vision was blurred. He didn’t know how it was for Thor. But if Thor was a regular member of Gremlin, then he could have easily used all kinds of spells that would have blown this entire fast-food joint to smithereens. He hadn’t; he had held back on purpose. There had been a reason why.

Breathing raggedly, Thor asked Kamijou again, “Do you want to save her, then?”

“Only if it’s true that she’s actually suffering,” answered Kamijou, ignoring the crowd of onlookers watching from a distance. “But if you’re trying to use me for your own ends like Leivinia Birdway or Kagun Kihara, then you’d better be prepared. Because I’ll still save Fräulein Kreutune—even if it means I have to bring your whole plan crashing down.”

After hearing that, Thor smiled thinly. “Fine. Do as you please.”

“?”

“I’ll be heading out tonight. You make your own choice and do your best to save her. We might end up helping each other or fighting. I don’t care either way, as long as it’s for her sake.”

Thor put his hand down on the table that was still standing and used his blue-white sparks to write something on a paper napkin. After quickly showing the letters he burned into it to Kamijou, he tossed it to the side. Starting from the center of the message, the napkin ignited, and the flame expanded until it was gone and no information remained.

Thor turned his back and spoke quietly.

“That’s where I’ll be. Whether we decide to team up or face off, be sure to make good use of what I told you.”

INTERLUDE TWO

Long ago, in western Europe, executions were the foremost method of mass entertainment.

After all, pastimes like basketball and video games were not widespread in this era. Books existed, but most people weren’t able to read or write—or, needless to say, listen to music or watch plays. The vast majority of people who comprised “the masses” had little to do with such luxuries.

In those days, executions were public affairs held in town squares. They served as a spectacle for the people, one that would rattle onlookers whether they wanted to be rattled or not. For better or worse, the events were a major source of stimulation in people’s otherwise mundane lives, despite executioners being traditionally shunned, at least publicly.

The masses didn’t only watch as “it” happened, either. Sometimes, they would actively participate.

Let’s give one such example.

Public humiliation was a form of punishment. Compared to chopping off a person’s head with an ax or crushing their limbs with giant gear-shaped objects, public humiliation had a relatively high survival rate.

It was simple: Just place the person to be punished in the middle of a public square, bind their arms and legs, and leave them for a while. The punishment was designed to shame the offender, and for greater crimes, the guilty party might have their clothes torn or be made to wear a pig mask over their face.

At first, public humiliation might not seem like it involved direct violence. And it was true—all the executioner did was bind the person and leave them there.

But it was also true there was a tacit understanding at play: No matter what the masses who watched decided to do, the executioner would not intervene. Previously friendly neighbors, starved for excitement, might throw stones at the helpless criminal, or beat them with sticks, or dump waste from their houses over them. People were said to delight in such punishment because they believed it was righteous.

One last thing topped it off.

Criminal investigations in those days were shoddy, and you didn’t need to unravel the mysteries of the infamous witch hunts to understand that. And people naturally knew how much of a sham they were. In public, they would pretend like they could never disobey the will of the authorities, when in reality, they wanted to make their neighbors out to be bad people even when they weren’t. It’s said they drew a dark kind of pleasure from this.

During those times, it was all normal.

During those times, crimes and legends were established after the fact.

Someone who bumped into a wealthy man’s shoulder could be branded an extraordinary thief and beheaded; a wife who tried to criticize her husband for adultery could be found to have committed a violent crime while possessed by the devil; someone could still blink their eyes after having their head lopped off their body, and the blood splattered on the ground might have given birth to an odd plant in the shape of a woman. Such stories were disseminated without a care to the point where even public government records couldn’t necessarily be trusted.

Perhaps that was the reason.

The reason why the legend surrounding the woman had been buried among all the rest.

Fräulein Kreutune.

A woman said to have been subjected to 308 divine ordeals, which all took the form of archetypal confessions via torture, a major element of the witch hunts.

But even after they threw her into the flames for an extended time and made her hold scorching rocks in both hands…

Even after they bound her arms and legs and dropped her into a spring…

Even after they suspended her at the tip of a tower, exposing her to lightning strikes…

Even after they locked her in a room without food or water for over a month…

…not only did she never die, but she didn’t even blink. At the time, no one could even come up with myths to explain her true nature or the tricks she’d used.

The general idea behind trials by ordeal was the people in power would assign an ordeal to the suspect. If the suspect was guilty, then God would abandon them, and they would be hurt. If they were innocent, then God would spare them, and they wouldn’t be hurt.

Eventually, people decided testing God like that was bad, and the system gradually evolved into torturing a person into confessing. But at the very least, during Fräulein Kreutune’s life, trials by ordeal had been effective.

In other words.

Ironically, in an age of such twisted law, her tormentors were forced to draw a single conclusion.

Fräulein Kreutune hadn’t ever been hurt.

Therefore, she was kindhearted and pure. She was just a normal human being.

CHAPTER 3

Opening the Gate

Impregnable.

1

It was now closer to nighttime than evening. Mikoto Misaka was in School District 7 visiting a certain coed high school.

“…This is where that idiot goes to high school…”

The Ichihanaran Festival was a lot like a school trial experience or an open campus. The students had a local rule, though: It wasn’t the day of the event, when everything was all neat and decorated, that mattered. Rather, it was the prep period, where students had so much to do they couldn’t afford to keep up appearances, that truly showed the essence of their school. You wouldn’t officially invite students from other schools to yours, but at this point, there was a tacit understanding that everyone would be checking out other schools on the down-low.

…That said, because such visitors could always be spying for secrets, the more elite institutions would tighten their security as much as they could. Additionally, the city was overrun with dirty newspaper club types eager to throw themselves at those school security systems for a scoop—depending on exactly how tight the security was, of course—so the situation was a tangled one indeed.

However.

Huh? There doesn’t seem to be anyone on watch here…

Mikoto Misaka was acting very suspicious as she took a look around the perimeter of campus, but the students barely spared a glance at her as they carried toolboxes and the wood for stalls every which way.

In the Garden of Learning, there would have been security officers with simple cameras hanging from their necks who would come running…

The school gate had been left open. Nervously, Mikoto stepped inside.

To be perfectly honest, the facilities were of a much lower quality than the Garden of Learning or Tokiwadai Middle School, but apart from the apparent relative academic levels, it still felt pretty weird for a middle school student like her to step onto a high school campus.

Her feet were oddly unsteady as she looked around some more. Ichihanaran Festival prep was well underway, so the place was laden with students carrying tools resembling close blood relatives of DIY carpentry implements. But these kids wore all identical uniforms, meaning nobody else was sneaking a peek at the place like Mikoto was.

H-hmm… If there had been another group of people visiting, I could have blended in with them…, thought Mikoto.

“Huh? What in the world are you doing here?”

Suddenly, a soprano voice called out to her from right behind. Startled, Mikoto turned around to find a girl standing there at about 135 centimeters tall. Mikoto wondered if she was visiting the school like her, but for some reason, the girl had an attendance sheet tucked under one arm—the kind a teacher might use.

The girl gave Mikoto’s uniform a close once-over. “Hmm…? Wait, isn’t that the Tokiwadai Middle School uniform?! Wouldn’t that make you an unofficial visitor to our school?! You can’t be here! If Anti-Skill finds you, they’ll give you such a scolding!!!”

“Haah… Thank goodness.”

“Huh? Um, excuse me—”

“You’re visiting, too, aren’t you? What a relief. I felt so out of place here by myself. But I couldn’t exactly bring anyone else—certainly not Kuroko.”

“W-wait just a minute!!! You have the wrong idea. I’m a teacher, and—”

“Still, though, aren’t you in grade school? Isn’t it a little soon for you to be hunting for a high school?”

“You’re being so nice it’s making me sound stupid!!!”

Mikoto continued observing the school along with the little girl (?) she’d just met. There was no sense of order or regularity like there was at Tokiwadai Middle School, but from the point of view of someone who went to an academy for rich young ladies, the sloppiness actually felt refreshing.

“It feels like student autonomy and house rules are a bigger thing here than at Tokiwadai… But if their teachers and school regulations are so low priority, how do they maintain any order here?”

“W-we are not low priority! I’m a teacher, and I’m doing my job properly!!!”

“…Where could that idiot be anyway? Wonder where the classrooms are,” Mikoto whispered.

“??? What are you mumbling about?”

“Uh, nothing at all!!! Don’t worry about it, little girl,” said Mikoto, frantically waving a hand in dismissal, insisting on one thing before rejecting it.

Then something else happened.

A female student with long black hair and an ample bosom—one large enough to contain the murder in her heart—burst past them, coming from the entrance. She was clutching a cell phone and seemed to be talking to someone.

“Oh, damn it!!! I told him he had to stay over tonight! I knew he’d run away!!! I’m gonna kill you, Touma Kamijou. Himegami, do you know where he went?!”

Mikoto, rather than the one the girl was actually talking to, gave a jolt of surprise at the name.

The situation, however, was more dire than she’d anticipated. The huge-breasted girl talking over the phone continued.

“What…? He got arrested by Anti-Skill?!”

2

Kamijou had been caught red-handed. Now he was handcuffed at an Anti-Skill station, sitting in a metal pipe chair.

“What the hell?!” he cried. “Okay, sure, we had a big brawl at the fast-food place, but we don’t have time for this crap right now!!!”

“This crap? What do you mean this crap​? Listen here. Luckily for you, witnesses say you were mainly the one under attack. But you’re still a student, Ichihanaran Festival prep or not. You need to have some restraint, and…”

The window was barred, and one wall was a one-way mirror. The room he’d been thrown into felt like an interrogation chamber, and some middle-aged officer was griping and lecturing him. Kamijou realized that Thor, so-called god of thunder, had oh so gallantly left the scene without letting anyone say anything to him…but he’d caught on to that too late.

Ultimately, after a valiant performance involving a lot of groaning and insisting he was getting rice blight in his wounds (possibly perjury), he escaped the Anti-Skill station. A surprising amount of time had passed; the color of the sky showed it was definitely night.

Many students were still prowling the streets in defiance of the final school closing time to continue getting ready for the Ichihanaran Festival.

…Index’s danger level is probably maxed out after she’s been alone in the dorm for so long. But Fukiyose’s will be maxed out, too, because I snubbed the prep work at school…

Nevertheless, Gremlin’s and Ollerus’s factions were about to break into a battle without bothering to destroy the Windowless Building at the heart of the city first. Regardless of whose hands Fräulein Kreutune fell into, Kamijou didn’t like her odds. Unfortunately, his only real choice was to prioritize her.

For now, one thing rose to the top of his to-do list.

As Kamijou reached the location that had been scrawled on that paper napkin, Thor spotted him. “Hey. You showed up after all, eh?”

School District 7.

An area chock-full of abandoned buildings almost buried under the rest of the city scenery.

“Guess that counts as a betrayal,” Kamijou said indifferently.

“Works for me,” Thor answered in a singsong voice.

Kamijou looked around and frowned. “What’s all this stuff lying around?”

Tools littered the ground. They looked like the kind of things a DIY carpenter would use.

Thor’s answer was plain. “It’s what we’ll need to get into the impenetrable building. Seems like everyone’s setting up for a festival nearby or something? Snatching everything was a cinch.”

…No point explaining the rules of normal society now, thought Kamijou, sighing. “The Windowless Building is supposed to be impervious to nukes, isn’t it?” he asked. “There’s no way in or out. How are we supposed to sneak in and find Fräulein Kreutune?”

“Before I launch into my explanation, there’s something else we gotta do. And I’m only gonna say it once.”

3

Shizuri Mugino.

The fourth-ranked Level Five in Academy City had an ability known as Meltdown. It enabled her to release electrons—which only ever appeared as a wave or a particle—in a pure state, without allowing them to be distorted into either. Her method of attack was categorized as a high-velocity wave/particle cannon, and it packed enough destructive potential to slice an Aegis-equipped ship into many pieces.

Had she acquired such an ability because of her naturally wicked disposition or had her disposition become wicked as a result of acquiring the ability? It was a chicken-and-egg problem with no answer, but there was little doubt Shizuri Mugino’s current personality was fitting for the fourth-ranked Level Five.

In general, the girl had very little to do with household chores such as cooking or washing clothes.

…However.

“Ehhh… What’s this one? When did I order it? I’ve been ordering cakes and biscuits and stuff so often lately that I don’t even remember.”

In an apartment in a complex being shared between several boys and girls, Mugino frowned and stared at an armful-sized cardboard box.

Inside it were plastic bags holding powders like flour, silicon cooking supplies including a spatula, silver molds to be used in the oven, and a manual about the size of a notebook, among other things. She picked up a set of silver spoons—probably for measuring—and twirled them around with her left hand, then peered deeper into the box. Had they been in a soundproof place, like a music hall, maybe someone would have noticed the mechanical buzzing accompanying the movement of her fingers.

A deathmatch. Not a word you often heard from Japanese schoolgirls, but Mugino had experienced several such battles. She’d lost an eye and an arm in the process. Her facial features looked shapely but were in fact burned, the damage obscured with special makeup and a false eye, and she’d swapped out her left arm with a highly functional prosthetic that now hung from her shoulder.

The problem then became her need for regular maintenance to repair errors.

She would have to use mechanical parts for the rest of her life, and their specs would, over time, fall out of sync with her physical body. To help adjust them, she needed specific ways to exercise her precise finger movements.

The “learning tool” she’d chosen to accomplish this with was a baking set—a very common mail-order product. There were other methods for evaluating prosthetics, like writing letters or holding chopsticks, but if you wanted something all-inclusive that tested all kinds of patterns at the same time, cooking was an ideal option.

“Well, whatever. I’ve got a quota to fill, and I’m going to fill it.”

Mugino carried the cardboard box she didn’t remember ordering into the kitchen. She attentively used her left hand as much as possible as she flipped through the notebook-sized manual. The hot chocolate her rehabilitation had produced had gone round and round until it caused Fremea Seivelun’s cavity crisis, but she didn’t know that.

“…What’s all this? ‘Boil a 0.9 percent salt solution, and use it to disinfect the tools in this box before starting’…”

Compared to other mail-order kits, this one seemed more nitpicky about hygiene. That said, Mugino didn’t really care as long as she could make sure her prosthetic was running smoothly. Following the manual, she poured the white powder out of its clear bag into a bowl, then mixed it with a saline solution and whipped it into a froth. She poured the result into a silver mold, closed it, and threw it into the oven.

“Fifteen minutes at four hundred degrees. Meanwhile, I’ll look through the other things…”

She took out two containers a little smaller than ping-pong balls, poured some clear gelatin-looking stuff into them, and put them in the fridge. Then she found a sticky fluid, some mixture of yellow and white, and poured it into a juicer to churn it.

Her arm seemed to be working perfectly fine.

Once the oven timer went off, Mugino opened the door and removed the contents, including the entire rack. Using a moist towel, she grabbed the silver mold, and—as though opening a long, slender ballpoint pen case—popped it wide open from the side.

“Hmm?”

At that point, Mugino frowned a little.

Of course, any normal girl probably would have screamed and dropped what she was holding.

“…The heck? Bones?” said Mugino.

She shook it a bit. Whatever they were, they looked sort of like femurs.

The manual, which she thought she’d folded into place, flipped back to a different page of its own accord.

The brand-new page said this.

Bring the item completed per the above instructions to the bathroom. Fill a disinfected bathtub with a 0.9 percent salt solution and arrange all the pieces according to the included anatomical chart. Then wait forty-five minutes for the pieces to fully join.

And then.

The viscous, cream-colored fluid mixed up in the juicer became fat, the contents of the globes slightly smaller than ping-pong balls cooling in the fridge became eyeballs, the stuff she’d heated in the pressure cooker became a liver, the paper towels she used to absorb moisture became a stomach, and the raw pasta-looking stuff became blood vessels and nerves. The rest of the “cooking ingredients” all followed suit, turning into other parts of a human body.

Splash!!! The water split and bubbled as a naked girl rose from the bottom of the tub.

Her face impassive, the girl looked at her hands, then cocked her head slightly before speaking in French.

“…Smaller than I expected. You must not have measured the quantities correctly.”

Mugino, leaning against the wall of the changing room with her arms folded, understood the French words she’d spoken. But she purposely ignored them and responded in Japanese.

“Who and what are you?”

“Cendrillon.”

The pale-skinned girl with soft blond hair grabbed the towel Mugino threw at her, then used it to wipe the 0.9 percent salt solution from her body before wrapping herself in it and leaving the bathroom.

“Marianne Sringeneier made me into a human table. Then some guy named Ollerus did me the favor of turning me back into a human. Thanks to that, I was able to reassemble myself.”

At first, Mugino thought the girl’s translation into Japanese was wrong, but that wasn’t the case.

“Gremlin’s main force has activated. They’re planning something in Academy City. I surmised the most efficient way of Gremlin for betraying us was to make contact with the ones who were part of the Hawaii affair.”

The girl in the bath towel who had called herself Cendrillon grabbed the cardboard box that had once looked like it contained mail-order teaching materials. The box was separated into several layers. She started pulling them off, as though disassembling a sandwich or a hamburger, looking through them.

Out from it came a large thin sheet of paper that looked sort of like a pattern for making Western-style clothing. Mugino was getting irritated at this point.

“…A dress pattern?” she demanded.

“I have one more task for you,” Cendrillon said, not turning around. “You’re finished cooking. Now it’s on to dressmaking. Perfect wife training for a bored girl, don’t you agree?”

Mugino finally lost it. Without any warning, she blew away a whole portion of the apartment complex.

The toweled girl, holding the pattern, took a big leap right off the veranda.

4

His destination was in District 7’s central area.

The Windowless Building wasn’t open to the public and had a strict security contingent keeping constant watch over it. Still, it wasn’t surrounded by vacant lots or anything, either; it was sitting in the middle of the city, after all. Things like shopping malls and hotels stood nearby.

Kamijou was headed for a parking garage near the Windowless Building after getting an explanation from Thor. That said…

“We can’t afford to get spotted by Anti-Skill or anyone more annoying than them. We won’t get anywhere being chased all over the city. Let’s split up for now instead and meet back up at the destination.”

That was the idea. Nevertheless, Kamijou didn’t know the details of whatever plan Thor had thought up. If he got captured, Kamijou wouldn’t be able to do anything on his own.

“In that case, I’ll do whatever I can to contact you. And then you’re on your own.”

…Then why not just tell him up front?

Kamijou lived in District 7 but wasn’t familiar with the neighborhood containing the Windowless Building. There were plenty of businesses here, sure, but he never had any reason to make the trek from his dorm just to buy school supplies. He could get the same stuff much closer to home.

“Can’t decide if this place is neat and tidy or just bleak,” Kamijou muttered as he took a look around.

Stores that met living and entertainment needs lined the streets, and at a glance, it all seemed utterly normal. But the signboards and decorative lights all tended toward a unified color scheme. In simpler terms, they were located in places where they wouldn’t exhaust a viewer’s eye.

…Which might sound basic enough, until you realized that the owner of a privately owned plot of land was free to build whatever they wanted on it. This level of standardization was unusual. To wash away individual wants to this degree, you’d need the strong arm of the government.

And the person responsible was obvious in this case: the chairperson of the Academy City General Board.

The exterior color palettes were just the tip of the iceberg. Perhaps even the positioning and height of the buildings—as well as the flow of foot traffic they created—had been expertly tailored, in such a way a casual observer wouldn’t even notice.

“Parking garage, parking garage…”

Kamijou would easily be able to find the place with a cell phone GPS, but considering what they were about to do, he didn’t feel like using a service that could allow a third party to pinpoint his location. Instead, he looked at all the signboards—covertly enough that other pedestrians wouldn’t all turn and look at him—as he walked down the street.

Suddenly, he heard a voice from behind him. “Why, you little… So this is where you were!!!”

“?”

It was a girl’s voice.

Kamijou turned around, looking confused. A girl with short brown hair stood there, wearing the uniform of Tokiwadai Middle School, which was widely renowned for its Ability Development.

Mikoto Misaka.

…Or, to be precise, someone who looked like her.

She spotted him and stormed up to him. “Don’t you see the Ichihanaran Festival prep going on? Why the heck aren’t you at school? Also, I heard Anti-Skill arrested you! What the heck did you even do?! And how did you even get back to Academy City after all that stuff in Hawaii?!”

Kamijou sighed, then shook his head. “I’m tired of this joke, Thor.”

“Uh, what? Thor???”

“C’mon, quit it! Now isn’t the time. You’re the one who said we’d take separate routes to the destination!!!”

“Uh, hold on, could you explain things one at a time? What on earth—?”

The girl was confused, but Kamijou didn’t care. He carelessly reached out with his right hand, then touched her upper body with his palm, using about the same amount of force one would use to push someone out of the way.

More precisely, he touched the center of her chest.

“Wh-wha…wha…?!”

“Yeah, yeah. Killing illusions and all that. Y’know, the ole I.B.”

“Lay off the weird abbreviations! Also where the heck do you think you’re touching?!”

“Hey, I don’t want to touch you like this, either!!!”

“You… You…???!!!”

“God, did you need to make it feel so real? How does that even work?”

“I…I…I’m not wearing pads!!!”

Mikoto blushed bright red all the way to her ears, her face a ridiculous blend of emotions. She froze in place, trembling a little.

Kamijou ignored the reaction and stepped away. “If you have the time to fool around like this, then I guess we’re still in the clear. Anyway, meet back up with me at the spot we decided on, Thor. Can’t do much without you there.”

Thor had arrived at the parking garage slightly ahead of Kamijou. When he spotted him approaching, he raised a hand. “Hey. You’re late. Worried about people tailing you?”

“…No, just having to go along with your stupid joke. Wait. How did you get here before me?”

“Eh?”

Thor looked at him strangely, but Kamijou didn’t notice.

5

Kamijou gripped a pair of binoculars.

He was in a parking garage from which he could observe the giant building with no windows in the center of District 7.

Here was where he’d met up with Thor, but after greeting him, the thunder god had gone off somewhere again, citing other preparations he needed to make.

While the Windowless Building was said to be the personal castle of the Academy City General Board chairperson, it still towered over the surrounding cityscape. Hotels, shopping malls, and other businesses crowded the vicinity. Kamijou was on the fifth floor of a parking garage, leaning onto a guardrail meant to prevent vehicles from falling.

Right behind him, a small refrigerator truck passed and headed down the slope.

Thor’s words came to mind. “The rumors are true—the Windowless Building doesn’t have any ways in or out, and trust me, I looked. They’ve got the whole thing locked up tight. Not even fluid or air can get in, let alone a person. X-rays and microwaves can’t do it, either. It’s like a galactic space battleship stuck into the ground nose first.”

What would they do, then? The answer was simple.

“So if we want to rescue Fräulein Kreutune, our only option is blowing a hole in the wall. That’s our basic assumption here.”

The small refrigerator truck passed behind Kamijou again. Then another, then another—all moving down the slope.

“Pretty much everything we’re about to do is for that express purpose. All this work and effort is simply going into destroying the impenetrable fortress’s armor. Keep that in mind.”

Kamijou peered through his binoculars. With his free hand, he took out his cell phone.

The subject of his observation was that first refrigerator truck to reach the ground.

He punched in the number he’d been given and connected with Thor.

“Hey, the first truck’s in position.”

“Of course it is. I’m the one driving it—with a camera and a controller. I didn’t ask you for obvious progress reports. What’s the situation in the area?”

“…Nobody’s around the building. Just as you predicted.”

“That’s fine, then… To be safe, continue to stay on lookout until we spring into action. The camera in the driver’s seat can only swing its neck so far. I need someone watching from above.”

“What’s in that thing anyway?”

“You’ll see very soon. Anyway, keep vigilant. Ten more minutes and all the trucks will be in position.”

Kamijou looked through the binoculars. Thor was right; he watched as one truck after another, all the same make and model, parked around the Windowless Building. He didn’t spot any other people, like Thor was concerned about. Random pedestrians wouldn’t be paying any attention to this, but even Anti-Skill, who were perimeter security experts, didn’t seem to notice.

“…Now that I look at it again, the building seems oddly defenseless.”

“Goes to show how confident they are in the armor. There’s no entrances or exits to begin with. You could try to assign a security detail, but how would they know what places to protect?” Thor’s answer was light and casual. “But more importantly, if they assigned people to guard the thing, the guards could turn traitor, or people could disguise themselves as guards to get in nice and close.”

“Not that it has anything to do with us, but don’t they need a contingency plan for people who want to topple the building by destroying the foundation it stands on?”

“The schematics aren’t public, but the base of the Windowless Building is fifteen meters underground, and it’s real big. Basically, everything up to thirty kilometers or so out is all part of its foundation. And with all the thick pillars they’ve got burrowed deeper underground, that thing’s never going down. At least, you’d need more than a nuclear land mine to do it.”

All five or six of the small refrigerator trucks eventually parked around the Windowless Building.

“Everything’s in position. How’s it look?”

“No changes. I don’t see anyone.”

“Gotcha. Then, without further ado, let’s get this started.”

“Get what started?”

There was no verbal response to his question.

Instead, Thor answered with his actions.

Booooooooom!!!!!!

All of a sudden, every single refrigerator truck positioned around the Windowless Building erupted into a massive explosion.

“Ngh?!”

The shock wave toppled Kamijou, despite his significant distance from the blasts. It knocked his binoculars and cell phone out of his hands and sent them sliding across the parking garage floor. He glanced up at the billowing black pillar of smoke, then dragged himself backward along his rear end to grab his phone again.

“What the hell did you just do?!”

“Couldn’t you tell? Blasting a hole. I didn’t want to do anything that would leave a bad aftertaste in my mouth, you know? So I avoided the civvies.”

“You moron…” Kamijou grabbed his binoculars. Rising to his feet slowly, he checked what it was like on the ground. “What was the point?! Didn’t you tell me the building can withstand a nuclear attack?! The only people this affected are the folks in the stores down the street. You probably shattered their windows with an explosion like that!”

“Ah, crap. I should have taken that into account. Hope nobody got hurt.”

Thor would have been able to get enough information on his surroundings using the cameras for remote-controlling the trucks. He probably didn’t know what was happening now that the cameras had been lost in the explosion.

So Kamijou let himself be angry as he announced the results. “It’s just like you expected. I don’t know what you put on those refrigerator trucks, but the building’s armor can withstand nuclear bombs. You’re not scratching that thing. Your plan failed!!!”

“The Calculating Fortress. That’s the name of the armor plating. It’s made of a compound material that calculates and disperses impacts. Actually, I’m over the moon everything turned out how I expected. This means the first phase of the plan was a success.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just get back here. No need to worry—our plan to rescue Fräulein Kreutune is going fine. Oh, right. I sent your phone a map. Use that route to get back. Otherwise, you’ll be tailed. If people start to follow you, don’t meet up with me. Got it?”

6

Chanted a magic spell.

Seria Kumokawa was revived!

“Huh? Hey, what’s up? Did the festival mood make you decide to be a real person instead of a shut-in for a while?”

Those words, spoken on the sidewalk that night, came from a girl wearing a ridiculously colored maid costume of yellow and black, like some kind of honeybee crossing: Maria Kumokawa. She carried a cardboard box with fresh foodstuffs in it, preparing for the Ichihanaran Festival like all the other students.

Incidentally, she was Seria’s little sister.

The older of the two, wearing a rougher out-of-fashion uniform, didn’t seem to be very emotionally affected in either direction by her comment as she gloomily twirled a finger around a lock of black hair.

“…Well, I’m not fully back in top condition yet. All the noise convinced me it was my time anyway.”

“You mean those beauty pageants schools are holding for the Ichihanaran Festival? Or maybe the ones in charge of shocking swimsuits? Curse you, G! How dare you grow again!!!”

“No beauty pageants for me. Yaaawn… I’m supposed to stay behind the scenes anyway. Onstage, I’d stand out too much. I’m not good at that stuff. Besides, someone’s gonna just manipulate the votes with their ability. Like Number Five. She’s so annoying. What’s the point?”

“…You’d stand out too much, but you’re not good at it? Can’t imagine what kind of power you’ve been storing up this whole time.”

Seria rubbed her eyes sleepily as if to say she just couldn’t keep up with her little sister’s energy right now. “Well, you know… It all goes to my chest, I guess.”

“And there you go acting all superior! Even though you’re half asleep! Curse you, G. It’s like when a person changes after winning the lottery, isn’t it? You’ve got way more than you need, and you let it go to your head. I guess that’s just the way of the world…”

“But if we ever got to a point where flat-chested people proudly condescended to big-chested people, I’d have to assume the world itself has an important screw loose.”

“Got some trivia for you. Back in ancient Greece, before they had bras, flat chests were a sign of status. They said big boobs were ugly because they get all saggy.”

“Don’t think that has much to do with modern times. Also, were flat chests a virtue? As far as I can tell from the Venus de Milo, they must have had an established size minimum even before the Common Era… Anyway, I think the right size is when you can start chuckling and complaining about how hard it is to find a swimsuit.”

“I’ve said that before. For the exact opposite reason, though.”

“Really. I see.”

Seria’s melancholy mostly derived from her unwillingness to check her e-mail on her personal cell phone. It was probably flooded with heaps of annoying Academy City news… Actually, the light that notified her of an incoming message was blinking constantly. Something troublesome was clearly happening somewhere in the city again.

…Not my problem. I never said I was officially back at work.

Her “work” was supposed to involve her acting as a think tank for one of the old men reigning supreme on the General Board, devising and presenting solutions to difficult problems…but if she was being honest, she hated it. At least getting a free upgrade to a deluxe meal she hadn’t asked for hadn’t made her any happier.

Instead, with all her determination, she averted her eyes from the problem of reality. “Fine then, Maria. I’ll talk about Kagun Kihara. You know, the one you love so much you get nosebleeds?”

“I…I do not! I can exercise restraint!!!”

“…If he declared he loved flat chests and said that anything B or above didn’t count as breasts, dun-dun-dunnn, how would you feel?”

“……”

Seria recalled how Maria’s former teacher had once been an active student keeper—someone who helped kids before they flunked out of school.

“…I—I guess I wouldn’t like that. In fact, my pride would be so badly wounded that I would devolve into misanthropy.”

“Well, there you go. So get to work, young lady.”

“…I’m not sure how, to be honest. The only ways I know of enhancing breast growth are superstitions.”

“Don’t worry. You just haven’t blossomed yet. You have hidden potential within you—just like characters in shounen manga. Potential for something like…this.”

“Hey!!! Curse you, G! Don’t look all smug while you show off your assets!!!”

Nobody could be an older sister without the ability to brush off her little sister’s fury. Seria put a hand to her mouth and gave a big yawn. Tears formed in her eyes, which she rubbed. As she did, she remembered something and asked her sister about it.

“…Anyway, here’s a more important question: Is it true you fell head over heels for Touma Kamijou in Eastern Europe? Because if you did, things are about to get messier than a soap opera.”

“Th-this is defamation!!! Where the hell did that rumor come from?!”

7

Their meetup point was next to a shopping mall near the Windowless Building. Not inside it but on the corner outside where the vending machines were.

The night scenery was filled with blinking red lights from all the fire trucks that had rolled in. Their thick fire-extinguishing hoses were plugged into the pump valves on the wall, doubtless to make use of the mall’s full array of firefighting equipment.

Thor leaned against a vending machine sipping a can of coffee, blending in with the other onlookers. When he saw Kamijou, he smiled thinly.

“This country doesn’t have any good coffee, does it?”

“…Why buy it if you’re just gonna complain?” Kamijou sighed in exasperation. “Anyway, explain yourself. You sure made a big show out there, and you didn’t even scratch the place. But you called it a success. What’s the big—?”

Before he could finish, Thor put his finger to his own lips. He spoke softly. “I’ll tell you while we walk. There’s a good reason I couldn’t explain the whole plan to you.”

“……”

Kamijou and Thor began moving away from the crowd of onlookers.

“…To begin with, Academy City’s leaders have a surveillance network, right? They can see every tiny little thing that happens in every corner of the city. I can’t exactly give you the whole plan under their watchful eyes, can I?”

“You mean the man-made satellites and security robots and stuff?”

“I don’t know how many projects this place has running in parallel, but those can’t cover all the blind spots alone. They must have a different network made of much less friendly tech. Something they don’t tell anyone about.”

In reality, the surveillance network was an array of information-gathering nanodevices scattered all over Academy City called the Underline. But only a select few, such as Accelerator and Motoharu Tsuchimikado, were aware of it.

“Here’s the thing, though,” continued Thor. “No matter what kind of tech they’re using, we can’t be the only ones who hate the complete lack of privacy at all times. Here’s an example.”

Thor left off there, then opened a metal door under an overpass. It was probably meant to store cleaning equipment and the like, but for some reason, there was another door in the rear, beyond which stretched too many passages to count.

Kamijou looked into the dimly lit hallways, illuminated by stuttering fluorescent lights, and frowned. “…What the heck?”

“The Freshmen. Or, strictly speaking, the main underworld group they’re attached to; this is like a secret base of theirs. Clandestine operations need a base to work out of. This is one of them. A blank space, a blind spot outside of Academy City’s surveillance net. I’m surprised they’d build one right above the underground portion of the Windowless Building, though.”

Of course, the place lacked any of the equipment the Freshmen had used for prep. To anyone surveilling them, Kamijou’s and Thor’s signals would seem to suddenly disappear, so investigators would doubtlessly be dispatched here quickly. The boys only had twenty minutes or so to make use of this place.

“…Why do sorcerers like you know so much about Academy City? Even I didn’t know that, and I live here.”

“Because the Freshmen were a potential enemy of Gremlin. We do our research on our foes. And we had the perfect window into their activities, too.”

“?”

“Bersi. A former researcher active in Academy City who goes by the alias Kagun Kihara,” stated Thor as they walked down the long passage.

Bersi.

Kagun Kihara.

A central figure in the Baggage City disturbance. Kamijou had only gone to the city on his guidance—to wrap things up there.

Thor grinned. “We blew up all those refrigerator trucks in order to get his help.”

“Wait, what? I thought he was dead—”

“For many years, Bersi has been trying to take revenge on another scientist named Byouri Kihara,” Thor interrupted. “The fight in Baggage City wasn’t the only thing he anticipated. He saw a confrontation happening in Academy City, too. So before he left here, he set up a few…tricks. Back doors you might call them?”

“……”

“Here we are. Go on in.”

Thor sounded as if he were inviting Kamijou into his own home as he opened the metal door halfway down the straight passage. Inside was a small room with no furniture, just a household outlet and an internet jack on the wall.

Thor took his cell phone out of his pocket and hooked it up to the wall jack using a cable. “The armor plating covering the Windowless Building can withstand a direct nuclear strike. But that doesn’t mean the Calculating Fortress is hard, exactly. If you make a skyscraper using materials that are too rigid, then when it gets hit by some earthquake, the tremors will break the whole thing apart.”

“Then how does it work?”

“The armor plating can move. It calculates the impact pattern of EM waves and ultraviolet waves coming toward it and vibrates itself in an optimal way. Basically, it meets the incoming waves with their opposite, canceling them out. That’s why simply throwing stuff at it doesn’t make a difference. Of course, there are other ways it counteracts impacts, like with chemicals and temperature differentials, but yeah.”

Once Thor’s phone was hooked up to the network, he started fiddling with it. Kamijou peered over his shoulder, but he couldn’t make out any of the tiny rows of numbers scrolling quickly up the screen. Clearly, the screen itself was not made for regular users.

“The Calculating Fortress isn’t actually that hard, on the other hand. If its ‘brain’ stopped working, you could probably just blow a hole in it.”

“But doesn’t the building get all its electricity from the inside?”

“Yep. So we can’t force a blackout,” admitted Thor readily. “Instead, I took a different approach. Blowing up all those refrigerator trucks was part of it. Essentially, my aim was to get some data on how the Calculating Fortress canceled out impacts and see if I could figure out any of its tendencies. All those trucks might have looked the same, but each one had a different explosion strength and direction.”

“…And if you found a tendency, what then?”

“I could calculate an impact pattern the armor plating couldn’t handle. Then if we launch an attack of that exact pattern, we can blow a hole in a building that can stand up to nuclear strikes.”

“Feels like you’d need more than just some guy’s laptop to calculate something like that.”

“Right. So I’m using an even bigger computer.” Thor waggled his cell phone with all the numbers zooming down the screen. “Remember the back doors Bersi—er, Kagun Kihara—left here? He’s got an ID that gives him a free pass to a few supercomputers people use for research. I’m doing the predictive simulations on one. Although they’re the same as this secret base, once we use one, we’ll be locked out immediately.”

Within about fifteen minutes, the results of his computations appeared on the screen.

The equation for breaking through the impenetrable Calculating Fortress, the armor plating that made the Windowless Building impervious to even nuclear weapons.

And now that Kamijou and Thor had it, they could move to the next phase of their plan.

8

Kamijou and Thor snuck through the site of an old research facility that had been the base of the Freshmen underground organization as they made their way across Academy City. They carried bags stuffed with electronic equipment. Thor had stolen it all.

“The General Board chairperson is likely overly dependent on his personal surveillance network and the precision of the Calculating Fortress. Since no one can betray him, he would trust those things more than a random group of people. But no system is perfect. If we can get up close to the Windowless Building without being detected, we can deal a fatal blow to his security system.”

“……”

“Hmm? No worries. I know what we’re really after—rescuing Fräulein Kreutune. Getting her out of there won’t be the end. In fact, I think the harder part will be pulling the wool over everyone else’s eyes—Gremlin’s main force and Ollerus’s group alike. If we take any detours, they’ll converge on us from every direction, and we’ll be done for. To be honest, and I hate to say it, we can’t afford to be greedy.”

Kamijou and Thor stopped in front of a ladder built into the wall. Kamijou looked up and saw a round exit. “A manhole?”

“If we go outside, we’ll be right next to the Windowless Building—but once we’re out, the chairperson’s network will pick us up again. They’re probably investigating Kagun Kihara’s back doors right now. If they figure out what I was using that supercomputer to calculate, the chairperson will make our job harder in whatever way he can.”

“How much time do you think we have?”

“Ten, maybe twenty minutes. But that’s more than enough for us to blow a hole in the famous Calculating Fortress.”

Kamijou yet again felt the weight of the bags filled with electronic devices.

Once they climbed the ladder and popped open the manhole, there was no going back.

He understood that. And he went forward anyway.

“Let’s go,” Kamijou said.

“Just want I wanted to hear.”

What linked Fräulein Kreutune to Touma Kamijou?

It didn’t matter.

Because, in the first place…

…he didn’t walk this path because he wanted people’s gratitude.

He wanted to save her, so he would. That was all there was to it.

9

Tonight’s entrée was mizutaki, a one-pot stew dish.

“…Stews are a great way to make simple chicken seem like a luxury.”

Kikyou Yoshikawa twirled a small cylinder for the portable stove on her finger. Her area of expertise was cloning technology—pharmaceutics, genetic engineering, and the like. She’d even had a hand in the military Radio Noise project in the past.

She lived in an apartment meant for school faculty, but she wasn’t renting this unit under her name anyway. She’d ended up drifting into the apartment of an Anti-Skill officer she knew.

It was extremely unfortunate, but Kikyou Yoshikawa didn’t have a job.

Aside from her, several other freeloaders occupied the apartment, too.

For example, a girl who looked ten named Last Order, who was busy swinging around a nunchuck-shaped wireless controller as she bounced up and down on the couch.

“Mmmmrrrrrr!!! I’ll never give you Snow White, declares Misaka declares Misaka!!! There’s no actual proof she’ll be happy if I give her to the prince, basically, says Misaka says—Hey!!!!!!”

“Come on, you. Dinner’s ready.”

“Misaka’s just getting to the good part, complains Misaka complains Misaka! Communication is very important in online games, and I can’t just log out before settling everything, says Misaka says Misaka giving a basic explanation!!!”

“…All the accounts in your friends list say Misaka, though. Doesn’t that mean you’re just playing with yourself?” Yoshikawa, former scientist, cocked her head, remembering the mass-produced military espers and the girl’s position as their command tower.

…Also, while the fairy-tale aesthetic, cute stars, and heart-shaped effects could fool you, upon closer inspection, it looked like the seven dwarves, armed with farming implements like axes and hoes, were all piling on a prince on a white horse and beating the crap out of him. Was the video game themed around a peasant revolt?

“Hey,” said Yoshikawa to the white-haired, red-eyed Level Five esper reclining on another couch at a right angle to the one Last Order was jumping all over.

Accelerator.

His nearby crutch with a modern design and the choker electrode at his neck implied he wasn’t at full strength, and he wasn’t. Despite that, he was still the most powerful person in Academy City.

At the same time, though…

“I’m racking my brain over how to handle her,” said Yoshikawa. “You’re her guardian, Accelerator. Do something.”

“…How should I know any better? If we all start eating without her, she’ll come to the table. We just have to make her feel left out. No picking her up or giving her orders.”

“Well, you seem to know a lot about her.”

“You want me to punch your lights out?”

Yoshikawa ignored Accelerator’s glare. She fit the cylinder into the portable stove, then tightened it with a clasp, preventing it from moving. She turned the dial that controlled the heat a few times to test it, just to make sure it could produce a ring of blue flame.

There was one other freeloader here—a girl named Misaka Worst (evil eyes, big breasts)—but she was a delinquent and loved going out at night, so she didn’t always come home for dinner.

Number One scowled. “Where’s the owner of this stupid place anyway?”

“Who knows. Aiho is probably being run ragged. Security’s tight this week. They lifted the restriction on students going home for a while because of the Ichihanaran Festival.”

“…And what are you up to?”

“Training to be a wife!!! Well, that’s what I’d like to say, but these days, it’s all about sharing chores and having a dual income stream.”

“Can’t hurt to learn those skills anyway.”

“You’re one to talk,” retorted Yoshikawa, exasperated. “Anyway, I know I can’t stay in place forever like this. It doesn’t matter when you’re a kid, but when you’re a full-fledged adult, any blanks in your résumé can have terrible effects on your prospects.”

“Did you find something?”

“Sort of. I’m laying the groundwork for now.” Yoshikawa picked up a large A4-sized envelope off the floor and waved it at him. “I was invited to be a special lecturer at a science university. Only on a temporary basis, though. If I can make a little money with this, that’ll help me prepare to reenter college myself.”

“Why go back?”

“I want to be a teacher but not one who specializes in genetics. Although can’t be in charge of a classroom with my credentials, it seems like the bar for being a student keeper is lower… Wait, I think they employ people out of the private sector, too, not just people with regular teaching certificates… Huh?”

Yoshikawa froze. She’d been preparing the stew before, but now she looked here and there before moving to the awfully advanced-looking kitchen and rummaging around in a cabinet.

“…No green onion shoots to use as seasoning. Well, we can still eat the stew just fi—”

“Okay!!!!!!”

There was an explosion. The seven dwarves had sandbagged the prince on his white horse and plundered his crown and mantle, giving Last Order the time to suddenly shout like that.

“Misaka will go buy some right now!!! declares Misaka declares Misaka and stuff!!!”

“…You’re up, Mr. Guardian.”

“Don’t just dump her on me…”

Last Order didn’t find errands fun—no, that kind of character trait would have been too easy to understand. She clearly wanted to go out on the town at night, especially now that the Ichihanaran Festival prep was probably making the city feel like a whole other world.

“You’ve got the tightest grip on her reins, don’t you? Honestly, when you get to be my age, there are times where you just can’t keep up with a kid immediately putting her ideas into action,” said Yoshizawa.

“Shut it. I’m not in charge of her. And you’re making me out to be in the same category as her,” said Accelerator.

“Now, give Misaka your wallet! says Misaka says Misaka, holding out her hands!!!”

“Hmm. Then maybe she’s got a hold on your reins. Well, either way, you’re still joined at the hip.”

“…Every once in a while, I get the feeling you’re really into the idea of being utterly destroyed. Your careless ramblings have a price, you know. Ever considered that?”

“Misaka! Is right here!!!” shouted Last Order.

“Oh, but what about the Ichihanaran Festival? Do you want to go around with her and see the sights after all?”

“‘After all’? What are you even talking about?”

“……”

Suddenly, Accelerator and Yoshikawa realized that Last Order’s shouting, louder than any siren, had ceased.

They turned around. Nobody was on the couch. The front door was half-open, caught on a shoehorn that had fallen to the floor. And one particularly small pair of shoes nearby was missing.

Yoshikawa put a hand on her hip and used her other to massage her temple. She shut one eye and exhaled.

Then she spoke.

“Please, Mr. Guardian?”

“Oh, screw this!!!”

10

The manhole cover was open.

First, Kamijou pushed the bags stuffed with electronic devices up onto the ground and then he leaned himself out onto the nighttime road.

Thor shouted at him from below. “Quick! We’ve only got ten or twenty minutes!!!”

They were right next to the Windowless Building. Before Thor could clamber out of the manhole, Kamijou ran across the sidewalk and hugged the wall of the structure. With a large red pen, he then drew a large circle on the Calculating Fortress armor plating.

Since nuclear weapons would have no effect on it, he’d imagined the wall to be as hard as a diamond. But when he actually touched it with the pen, it felt more like a thick sheet of rubber. Was that because it was avoiding the impact in addition to repelling it?

Or…

Did it only seem a little bouncy because of the waves running through the Calculating Fortress, and in reality, the material actually was as hard as diamond?

…Thor said there are other countermeasures, like chemicals and high temperatures. It can’t all be covered in nanomachines, could it?

Kamijou shouted over his shoulder. “I marked it!!!”

“The excavator!!! I already put the impact pattern calculated by Kagun Kihara’s back door into it!!!”

Thor finished assembling the electronic tools packed into their bags. It looked almost like a machine gun, but instead of a barrel, it had a giant stake attached to it. The tool wasn’t for a single piercing strike to open a hole—it was for breaking down walls with a barrage of hundreds, if not thousands, of hits at a time.

Kamijou grabbed the excavator, then caught a lithium-ion battery from Thor and shoved it into the machine from below like a magazine. Thor prepared his excavator the same way.

“Push the stake along the line you just drew. Then you simply pull the trigger. That’ll activate the excavator. Don’t stop when you see cracks—keep pushing. Once you’re all the way through, pull it back out and do it again in a different place on the line, away from the first. Got it?!”

Kamijou and Thor placed the tips of their excavators at roughly the three o’clock and nine o’clock positions, then pulled the firm triggers.

Brrrr-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak!!

As the stock assailed Kamijou’s shoulder with a dull pain over and over again, the thick stake’s tip pounded into the armor plating of the supposedly impenetrable Windowless Building.

It would not be exaggeration to say this was a historical moment.

Not even Accelerator, Academy City’s most powerful Level Five, had been able to destroy this structure.

“It’s in!!!”

“But it’s not going fast enough!!! It’s taking too long to bore a hole!!!”

Plus, the noise was even louder than Kamijou expected. Thor had just exploded several refrigerator trucks a little while ago, too. He was sure the people from the fire department were still doing their work.

“It’s too loud!!! They’re gonna notice us!!! If some random fireman gets in our way, we’ll burn through the ten or twenty minutes in a heartbeat!!!”

“The firefighters can’t hear anything but the sirens. They won’t notice us right away!!! The bigger problem’s the armor plating—it’s more of a Goody Two-shoes than I thought. Damn it! I thought I calculated the ideal values! How is it still this tough…?!”

Skreerrr-grrrr!!! The grinding sound was like gears splitting apart.

Thor cursed, then stopped his excavator and pulled it out of the wall. The thick stake was bent halfway. “Gotta switch spikes! You keep going. We can’t afford to lose any more time!!!”

“You mean you have spare parts?!”

“Enough to make a whole other excavator, just in case one of ours got busted up. But that means I’ve only got the one extra spike. Don’t break yours!!!”

Things were not going according to plan, and accidents they hadn’t foreseen were starting to pile up. It all amplified Kamijou’s anxiety.

Was this it? Could they do nothing else?

The Calculating Fortress armor plating protected the personal castle of the General Board chairperson, the leader of Academy City. And they were taking it on, just the two of them? They’d fundamentally misunderstood something, hadn’t they?

Nevertheless, stopping and turning tail wouldn’t magically make the situation any better.

The self-evident truth was that the way you got out of predicaments was by thinking only of pushing forward.

While it sounded a lot like the gambler’s fallacy, trying to be clever and coming up with a solution wouldn’t help.

Kicking his anxiety to the curb, Kamijou scanned the giant clocklike circle he’d drawn, then pushed in the excavator again between three and four o’clock. He began to move the tip toward the five o’clock position when something happened.

“…Wait, what?”

At first, he thought his excavator had malfunctioned. The immense brr-gak-gak-gak-gak-gak noise continued, but another sound, a strange one, had begun to make its way in.

“Thor! Something’s wrong. Mine might be going haywire, too!!! Haven’t you fixed yours yet?!”

He got no response from Thor.

Still facing the Calculating Fortress, Kamijou shouted again. “Thor!!!”

At this point, even he was confused. He turned around.

Thor should have been swapping out his spike on the sidewalk, but instead, he was holding his broken excavator in his arms and squatting. He looked up, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide-open. It was as though he was trying to stare up at the night sky—at something.

No.

He wasn’t just trying.

Thor was on guard against something approaching them from the dark skies, even letting their entire objective—penetrating the Calculating Fortress—be consigned to oblivion.

“…Not good.”

“What isn’t good?! My excavator’s making a weird noise! I don’t know shit about how these things work. Get your spike replaced and give it to me!!! Then you can check the motor on mine—”

“No!!! It’s not your excavator malfunctioning!!! That’s the sound of something striking air. We’ve got Academy City unmanned weaponry coming at us!!!”

Kamijou’s finger fell off the excavator’s trigger.

The impacts to his shoulder ceased, and the incredible noise the machine was producing vanished as well.

The other explosive sounds continued. They were every bit as loud as the excavator but clearly separate from it—and Kamijou could sense them getting closer.

Red and green lights danced in the night sky, but Thor seemed to have picked out something besides those pinpricks.

“…A cheaper version of the Hexawing model? If they’re sticking with the name scheme, that would make them Quadrawings, I guess. Seems like getting rid of the excess gave ’em a boost in mobility…”

“Get to the point, Thor!”

“Autonomous attack helicopters. They whittle you down with sonic weaponry, then rain machine-gun bullets and missiles on you. Some of the most brutal shit this city’s ever fielded, I bet!!!”

Judging by the number of lights in the sky, there had to be more than one. But if even one approached, it would spell doom for Kamijou. He was powerless in the face of nonsupernatural violence.

“They’re autonomous, right?! That means they’re unmanned. Thor! Can’t you take them out with your sorcery?!”

“I could maybe do something, but we don’t have time to mess with them!!! We don’t want Gremlin or Ollerus detecting us. We have to break through the Calculating Fortress. It’s all we’ve got. If we keep taking losses, the situation will get exponentially worse. We can’t afford to deal with the helicopters!!!”

They couldn’t let themselves be killed without a fight, yet they didn’t have time to deal with the oncoming threats. Their escape route was finally gone. If they couldn’t find a way through, then they wouldn’t be able to rescue Fräulein Kreutune. There wasn’t even a less bad ending this time. They’d race straight to the worst possible conclusion.

“Thor, if we can’t deal with those things, then we need to pull out for now.”

“We’ll be losing our only chance to save Fräulein Kreutune! We can’t use the Freshmen’s underground base again, and once Academy City deploys a security patch and updates the defensive program to be able to deal with the impact pattern we’re exploiting, we’ll be up a creek!!! We’ll never get another chance at this!!!”

“Yeah, well, you made a plan, and it failed! If the two of us die here, then nobody will save her!!!”

“Once Gremlin and Ollerus make a move to capture her, we’ll be left without any opportunities to intervene. And she’s not gonna like what either of those groups does to her!!!”

“Damn it!!!” Kamijou swore, pulling the excavator’s trigger again.

But they wouldn’t make it. That was crystal clear.

The situation was changing by the second, and they lacked the means to respond to it. They were basically rationing out the last dregs of their savings. Once things got too bad, the changes would force them out of the picture.

And then.

Something happened.

A strange noise—and this time, it did come from Kamijou’s excavator. It sounded like tough metal ripping apart.

At first, he thought his spike was damaged, like Thor’s had been.

But he was wrong.

Krsshh-eeeeekkkk!!!!!!

A giant fissure appeared in the wall of the Windowless Building.

The crack spread farther out than the circle Kamijou had drawn on the wall with red pen. It was bigger, too.

And the destruction only continued to amplify from there.

A square. Each side was over ten meters long.

The fissure was shaped such that it showed clear human intervention. The impenetrable Calculating Fortress began to fracture. Cut off from the wall around it, the giant panel tipped, then fell toward Kamijou.

“What…the…?!”

He let go of the excavator. Frantically, he rolled to the side to get out of the way. The thick wall debris bent the rough machine as it fell—it was still stuck inside—then crushed it, thoroughly destroying it. As the pieces collided with the ground, a dust cloud erupted from it. The Calculating Fortress was said to be indestructible, so maybe the dust had come from the sidewalk asphalt.

…Our excavators didn’t make that hole. Something else must have—something better. But what? And wasn’t the pattern Thor used Kagun Kihara’s back door to calculate the only possible exploit? Can’t the wall cancel out nuclear attacks?!

From the outside, it appeared nothing but the excavators could have made any impact. And defenses like these wouldn’t just crack from deterioration or metal fatigue.

In which case, wouldn’t that mean this man-made destruction hadn’t come from the outside?

But if it hadn’t, then where had it come from?

“……”

Thor stared intently at the dust cloud, trying to see past it. Through the hole in the Calculating Fortress, he glimpsed the interior of the Windowless Building.

The space was occupied.

But by who?

Whoever it was, Thor and Kamijou could hear their footsteps. Not hard ones, like leather shoes or boots would give off, but clapping ones, like someone hitting a glass table with the palm of their hand. Was this person barefoot?

Their skin touched the air outside the dust cloud.

And out she stepped.

She was fairly tall for a woman, standing at almost two meters in height. Her silver hair almost reached her ankles, and because her head was down, her face was difficult to make out. She wore something akin to a dress made of thin synthetic fibers but one not designed primarily to be fashionable. Her underwear was clearly visible through it, although her eyes betrayed no sign of her caring. The texture of her pale skin appeared as smooth as a girl in her teens, but it was hard to actually tell.

On some fundamental level, she looked inhuman.

It wasn’t a clear-cut thing, like it would be if she had horns or wings. In fact, Kamijou wouldn’t be able to give a clear answer as to what exactly was wrong with her. But something was off—something hard to explain with words. If a teenage girl was in a sauna, nobody would think anything of her glossy skin. But if that same girl had been discovered in an ancient pyramid, that would have made zero sense. It was like that. The woman was herself without fault, but she emanated an aura that was clearly mismatched somehow.

Who…are you…? Kamijou thought.

And then he wondered why he hadn’t actually said those words.

Later on, he would recognize the feeling as being like staring down a carnivorous beast that had just escaped its cage. He felt he shouldn’t excite her or stimulate her at all—not before he knew what was going on.

If she came out of the Windowless Building, would that…make her Academy City’s leader? But I thought there was a chairman, not a chairwoman…

But Kamijou’s guess was incorrect.

Thor, who had entirely forgotten about both the ten- to twenty-minute time limit and the autonomous attack helicopters closing in, mumbled to himself, sounding dazed.

“…Fräu…lein…Kreutune…?”

It happened an instant later.

The woman Thor had addressed glanced at him from behind her silver bangs.

She cocked her head slightly, appearing to work something out.

However.

Ga-kuh!!

A strange sound escaped Thor’s lips, followed by a dark-red liquid, as he crumpled to the pavement.

Kamijou saw everything happen but couldn’t comprehend it.

But whether it was an unidentified attack or some kind of surprise ambush, the woman had taken out Thor in one hit. Thor, a member of Gremlin—the people who had rampaged through Baggage City. The guy in the group who was actually meant for combat.

Thor seemed to be trying to move his limbs as he lay on the road, but he couldn’t do much except twitch his fingertips a little. He looked like an insect desperately trying to wriggle a leg that was almost torn off.

“Thor!!!” Kamijou shouted in spite of himself. He tried to run over to him.

But he couldn’t.

Perhaps the simple act of slightly drawing Fräulein Kreutune’s attention had been his fatal mistake.

This time, unlike with Thor, she didn’t even spare a glance for Kamijou.

Grrp-guh!!

Kamijou heard an oddly muffled noise that sounded more like it had been pumped straight from his lungs than his mouth. The next thing he knew, his vision turned over on itself.

INTERLUDE THREE

Crisis management file, special article number 443111.

Points of caution related to the preservation of Fräulein Kreutune.

The main objective of our work is to minimize the effects of this individual on the world, as she is an obstacle to the plan of Academy City and, in the long run, Earth as a whole. We have decided on a course wherein we make of her a cat inside a box and dilute her influence outside that box as much as possible.

There are several special points of caution about this approach.

This individual is not motivated by thoughts or ideals but curiosity. Therefore, we must not allow her to gain an interest in the world outside her box. She cannot ever die under any circumstances; once something has whetted her interest, she will proceed in a straight line to the object of her fascination—whether it is an item, a situation, a location, or a person—no matter how much it physically damages her to do so.

While her box is impenetrable, surrounded as it is by the Calculating Fortress, we are unsure if that can even serve as a prison for her, considering her properties.

We believe the most effective method is to provide perfect darkness and perfect silence, thereby removing her from any source of interest.

This individual has no concept of likes or dislikes.

She expresses curiosity in anything directed at her, whether it is goodwill or malicious intent.

Since she is sealed in a box, the moment she senses even the faintest light, wave, or sound, she will gain a powerful interest in it. A sporadic occurrence here or there is no great issue, but continued stimulation for over a minute is extremely dangerous to the point of being fatal.

We must not provide her with even the tiniest change.

If this individual is activated even once, her incredibly quick thought processes will likely devise a means of destroying the Calculating Fortress.

And once this individual has gained a means of destroying the Calculating Fortress, most methods of killing her or disabling her will be ineffectual.

Given a spear and a shield and unleashed on the streets, she would pose a code red-level threat to Academy City.

CHAPTER 4

Tranquility As Seen by an Aberration

Release_the_Monster.

1

The sound of an explosion slammed into Kamijou’s ears.

His consciousness flashed on and off, unsteady, but he focused on the noise to keep from blacking out. Finally, he rapidly awoke.

“…What…was…?”

“You up?”

Thor peered at his face. The thunder god had coughed up all that blood, hadn’t he? Just like Kamijou. His symptoms seemed less severe.

They were still right next to the Windowless Building. The Calculating Fortress still had that big hole in it. They had been under a time limit—ten to twenty minutes—from the moment they started their break-in. What had happened with that?

Thor gave Kamijou the answer. “If you’re wondering about those Quadrawing auto-attack helicopters, they’ve all been shot down. Fräulein Kreutune wrecked them—like a little kid tearing the wings off an insect they’re curious about. Nobody is chasing us, probably because she’s become their top priority.”

“…What happened anyway?”

“I don’t know.”

Kamijou slowly sat up. Right before going down, he’d felt something happen inside his body, but he couldn’t quite remember what…

“I destroyed something strange inside us with a high-voltage current,” said Thor bitterly. “That gave us control back. Before that point, it was kind of like when your organs reject something. I don’t know. It could have been some sort of body tissue, smaller than the eye can see.”

“How did she destroy the Calculating Fortress?”

“We don’t have time to snoop around the crime scene—not that what we’re doing is all that different anyway. Essentially, Fräulein Kreutune embeds a microscopic piece of body tissue inside a target to destroy it from the inside. If the target is a living creature, their body rejects it. If the target is inorganic, the tissue causes the target’s insides to expand and rip apart. Kind of like when a frozen water pipe bursts.”

“……”

“But I can’t figure out the underlying principle. What is she actually doing? What is she actually controlling?”

“Huh? Wait, doesn’t that mean she’s manipulating body tissue, then? And everyone says nothing can kill her. Wouldn’t that make her like an esper who can control her body better than a regular person?”

“I don’t think the whole nothing can kill her bit is meant to be taken literally. Something’s up…though it’s definitely not some cheeky little trick, either. If you ask me, yeah, she can’t die—but that’s just part of whatever she actually is. I’m thinking it’s all based on some insane underlying rule.”

That was Fräulein Kreutune. She had needed no preparations or plans to bring down the impenetrable building’s armor, or to knock out Kamijou and Thor, or to even obliterate Academy City’s defensive weaponry.

“…Bet you just wondered why anyone needs to protect her,” said Thor scornfully. “So does that mean you can’t help anyone who strikes you as appropriately weak? Someone who never told you their special circumstances, past or present? Someone who isn’t cute enough to project your own emotions on? Someone who you can’t talk to a lot and grow to be friends with? …Listen up, Kamijou. Tell me—is that who you really are?”

“No,” spat Kamijou. He could still feel the inside of his ribs creaking and groaning. “If I used reasons like that to decide whether to help someone, I might as well have just made friends with her instead of worrying about it. Doesn’t matter if she won’t even look my way.”

He had a lot to think about. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he noticed how his gaze was drawn to the Windowless Building.

Specifically, to the darkness inside the giant hole in the impenetrable fortress’s armor.

Kamijou didn’t realize himself what had attracted his attention, but there was something inside that hole.

“Don’t get greedy,” said Thor, gazing at the same spot as he was. “…That’s clearly a detour. Something off the beaten path. I don’t know what’s in there, but it’ll take more than a hole in the wall to expose the thing. It’s a decoy. If we throw caution to the wind and go in there, it’ll devour us.”

“I know…”

At the moment, Kamijou and Thor had two paths.

Did they turn their gaze eyes from the Windowless Building to follow Fräulein Kreutune?

Or did they turn look inside the structure to find answers to the biggest mysteries in Academy City—or the world?

Fortunately, perhaps, the two of them already had a clear objective.

“We prioritize Fräulein Kreutune. Let’s follow her.”

“Good. I’m glad you don’t have to end up like one of the poor victims in those old fairy tales.”

Thor sounded somehow relieved, but stopping Kamijou from letting the darkness devour him probably wasn’t the only reason for this.

If Thor had been on his own, he wouldn’t have been confident he could resist the temptation, either. Even if he realized that stepping inside would have almost certainly led to his death—or an even worse end.

“…Where’d she go?” asked Kamijou.

“We can just follow the explosions.”

“Think Gremlin or Ollerus have noticed?”

“Anyone who assumed they wouldn’t become aware of all this is an idiot.”

In that case, there was only one thing to do.

Catch up to Fräulein Kreutune immediately and secure her.

2

Fräulein Kreutune sat on the ground, hands on her knees, and stared at a takoyaki stall.

Thanks to it being Ichihanaran Festival prep season, restaurants geared toward students were packed, despite the hour being past the final school closing time. Aside from the normal brick-and-mortar eateries, many stalls had been set up on the road, taking advantage of the festive mood to sell things at surprisingly high prices incongruous with what they normally cost.

Eighty percent of Academy City’s population being students, it was little wonder a high school–age kid working part-time was manning this particular stall.

…Though normally, he would have to be helping his own school set up for the festival, here he was instead. He really didn’t want any of his classmates finding out—that would be a disaster. The position of “traitor” was a unique one during the Ichihanaran Festival.

The student used an awl-like tool, sharper at one end, to spin the ball-shaped food on the pan round and round very quickly. The sight must have really whetted Fräulein Kreutune’s interest, because she’d had her eyes glued to the stall for a while now.

As for the part-timer, however…

…You know, I’ve never seen cream or chocolate in a takoyaki before. Taiyaki went through that revolution, but I don’t know if it’s necessary here… And who the hell is that lady?!

Takoyaki was a mysterious food. It seemed so close, so familiar, but when you really researched it, you’d see how much your preconceptions clouded your perception of it. He’d always thought you only used one of these awl-like tools (he didn’t know the actual name of it) to spin the takoyaki as it cooked, but after watching the process at a chain restaurant where you could see into the kitchen, he’d realized for the first time you were supposed to use two.

In the same way, he’d always imagined they were cooked all the way through by default, confusing raw takoyaki with the stuff sold in convenience stores with a longer shelf life. That had nearly led to disaster as well.

As she stared at the stall, Fräulein Kreutune naturally creeped out the part-timer, but the takoyaki in the metal pan were almost finished, so he couldn’t afford to stop. And maybe, unconsciously, he sought a kind of mental stability in doing work he was so accustomed to.

…What…? Who is she? Like, is she hungry or what??? I can’t just give her takoyaki, though. Not for free.

Sales wouldn’t take that big a hit if he were to give her one or two. But if anyone else saw that, they’d want in on the freebies. It could draw a whole mob. That would be disastrous.

Eventually, though, the student realized the flaw in his presumption.

Fräulein Kreutune’s hands moved slightly as she sat half curled up on the road. It took him a few moments to realize she was mimicking him cooking the takoyaki. The movements were awkward at first, but steadily, she got the knack of it. There was nothing in her hands, yet for a moment, he saw takoyaki cooking utensils in the gentle curvature of her pantomiming fingers.

Wait, like, what’s her deal anyway? Her clothes are so weird… Isn’t she cold??? Maybe she’s doing a fitting for some kind of Ichihanaran Festival costume.

Then something else happened.

“Hey!!! You there!!!”

He heard a low male voice call out.

The student gave a start, and as he turned around, he gave another. There were four of them—Anti-Skill officers decked out in full gear. They packed enough punch to settle an average convenience store robbery in a matter of seconds.

The student thought for a moment that his traitorous behavior in focusing on his part-time job during Ichihanaran Festival prep had run afoul of some rule he didn’t know about. But he quickly realized he was mistaken as the group surrounded Fräulein Kreutune.

The officers took out their radios and spoke into them. “Individual in question confirmed. We’ve just arrested her.”

“……”

“What? That’s not in our jurisdiction. Why would we escort her there? I can’t follow this order unless I get an explanation! She already destroyed four of our autonomous attack helicopters. If we’re going to bring her anywhere, the closer it is, the safer we’ll all be!!!”

“……”

“Wait. Just hold on, please. To begin with, standard protocol dictates we take her to our office. Tell me why you’re asking us for an explanation. If you can’t convince me, then we’ll process her as usual.”

The Anti-Skill officer was intimidating, like a super-evolved version of a gym teacher. But it sounded like there was some internal strife going on, and that doubled the impression.

The student felt frightened for no real reason, but Fräulein Kreutune—the target of the officers’ hostility—just kind of sat there. At most, she crooked her head slightly.

…Uh, what the heck? Is she an industry spy disguised as a foreign diplomat or something?

The Ichihanaran Festival was meant mainly for students, but particularly high-ranking members of important cooperative organizations frequently showed up to observe. He’d heard people would sometimes disguise themselves to be mistaken for such an individual…

Then he saw something he would rather not have.

Fräulein Kreutune had been mimicking his movements as he cooked the takoyaki before. But now her fingers had begun to move in a different way. She hadn’t suddenly become terrible at the takoyaki movements—no, she’d switched to an entirely different gear.

Wait. Is that…?

The student followed Fräulein Kreutune’s gaze as she sat on the ground, hands around her knees, seeing what she was looking at.

The Anti-Skill officers.

She watched the gun-toting professionals as they quarreled over their radios—their communication didn’t seem to be working—and she absorbed something. She expressed that something using the movements of her fingers.

It was just like with the takoyaki.

At first, her movements were awkward.

But with time, they rapidly grew more precise.

“Anyway!!! Without a good explanation and legal grounding, we can’t obey that command!!! Got it? So send a legal expert to our office or something. Maybe a law teacher?”

Oh shit, thought the student.

The Anti-Skill officers still hadn’t noticed the change in Fräulein Kreutune’s movements. He got the feeling that this little piece of information would be the difference between life and death.

For just an instant, because of how unnecessarily angry they were, the student wavered on whether to call out to them.

And that moment of hesitation was all it took.

“Momozawa, cuff her. Yashiro, bring the car around! Weird interruption, but nothing to worry about. This is our—”

The officer’s words cut off.

Fräulein Kreutune had stood up without a sound.

With four of them surrounding her, any of the officers could have immediately reacted to even a fidget. They could have grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the ground. And yet…

“H-hey!!!” the panicked officer shouted as a threat. But the student felt like something wasn’t quite right.

If he had to make an analogy, it was sort of like trying to desperately extol the virtues of living to someone who had already jumped out in front of a moving train.

It happened a moment later.

A barrage of dull noises—coming from the woman, now that she had absorbed something violent from the scene in front of her.

3

All in all, she was lost.

Fremea Seivelun looked around the nighttime streets of Academy City. After leaving the dentist’s office, she’d wandered over to a stall, lured in by its promises of fruit-filled marshmallows. She remembered that. But the next thing she knew, Hamazura and Takitsubo were gone, and she couldn’t even find the dentist’s office, even though she knew it was right around there.

“…I can’t believe he got lost. At his age! Anyway, Hamazura must be so embarrassed! Nya!” she declared, assuming a daunting stance in the middle of the street adorned with electric declarations.

However, a true lost child wouldn’t be able to grasp her situation.

Fremea’s student dormitory was in School District 13, an area home to a lot of elementary school students. There was a twenty-four-hour café nearby, which—unbeknownst to her—was constantly staffed by someone from the reborn Item. Someone could try to attack her again, like remnants of the Freshmen.

But this was District 7.

On top of that, transportation between school districts was rare. Fremea had mostly been using Hamazura’s belt as a handhold to get by, letting herself be guided through the crowds. She didn’t have enough input information to go home on her own. People talk a lot about how drunks have a homing instinct, but Fremea didn’t have the correct initial settings for any homing instinct to work properly in the first place.

“Anyway, I’m hungry now… I can’t leave Hamazura, though, because he’s lost. I’ll have to be the big sister and find him!!!”

Fully committing herself to the exact opposite of what the situation called for, she decided to take a look at a map of District 7 on a sign.

…But a map wouldn’t tell her where Hamazura and Takitsubo were. More importantly, she couldn’t even tell where she was right now. Nevertheless, she nodded proudly to herself twice.

Then she declared: “If I just make a big circle around here, I’ll have to run into him!!!”

Try as she might to draw over as large an area in District 7 as she could in a single stroke, though, it was like telling someone lost in the Sea of Trees near Mount Fuji to just go straight to get out—an armchair theory at best. If that sort of thing worked, no one would have trouble navigating in the first place. And Fremea hadn’t even checked the scale of the map.

And so the girl missile looked away from the sign and took her first step—right before it happened.

She ran straight into someone.

“Nyaaa!!!”

“Huh? What the heck, says Misaka says Misaka in surprise and stuff… What?! Lost kid located!!!”

“I-I’m not a lost kid!!! Nya! I’m a big sister!!!”

The entire Misaka network—an electronic information network using the equivalent brain wavelengths characteristic of clones—had something to say about that. The two girls, however, were none the wiser.

The girl named Last Order gave Fremea a close once-over, then stuck out her chest in pride, despite not being that much taller than Fremea. “I guess I have no choice. I, Misaka, will help this lost child, says Misaka says Misaka, getting way up high on her high horse.”

“Anyway, I don’t remember doing anything to give you the right to boss me around!!! You think you’re so cool just for being a little taller! Well, you made a big mistake!!!”

“Standing on your tiptoes to make yourself taller? That just proves you’re a kid. A real adult would look back fondly on their youth, says Misaka says Misaka, acting like she knows everything.”

With one smooth, vigorous motion, Fremea pointed her index finger at Last Order. As if she were laying all her cards on the table, she then shouted into the streets: “I’m wearing a bra!!!”

“What???!!!”

Last Order’s shock created a literal lightning effect behind her thanks to her natural electricity-producing esper ability, while Fremea, perhaps believing she would lose somehow if she didn’t use this trump card to deal the finishing blow, continued her attack. “And I already pick out my own bras for myself!!! I go into sexy underwear stores like they’re my own backyard! So anyway, I’m in a totally other dimension from a kid like you!!!”

“This… This will not stand. You’ve just issued a challenge to Misaka’s very genetic predisposition!!! says Misaka says Misaka, on the verge of crying!!!”

…Incidentally, the person her genes were copied from—Mikoto Misaka—did indeed have a tragic chest area, but that was decidedly not the case for Mikoto’s mother Misuzu. Last Order still clung to that tiny ray of hope.

“Stupid little baby!!!”

“What did you say, you twerp?! says Misa—”

“You’re a lost little girl, and I’m sending you home!!!”

“That’s my line, you stupid lost child!!! says Misaka says Misaka, annoyed that you won’t let her finish her sentence!!!”

The girls began grabbing each other’s hair. This nearly devolved into all-out wrestling, when out of nowhere, an announcement from a local broadcasting station played on a giant screen attached to a blimp flying overhead.

“An adult woman never lets herself be ruffled by an unexpected guest—she shows hospitality all the same. No phone reservations needed! This week’s edition of Ladies in the Know, our special on the best restaurants in Academy City you never knew existed, can be used by one and all! For details, tune into the Urban Channel, available on cable!!!”

“……”

“……”

Fremea and Last Order stared up at the night sky for a few moments.

They then turned to glare at each other at the same time. In shockingly matching tones, they both declared:

““We’ll have an in-the-know contest over the best restaurants in Academy City!!!””

Now that the girls had an idea in their heads, they would not stop until they carried it out—and they gave up on both Hamazura and seasoned green onions!!!

4

Sirens blared everywhere.

Red blinking lights sullied the night scenery in myriad, disorganized variety. Anti-Skill’s special vehicles were most numerous, but fire engines and ambulances ran in an endless stream, too. Air ambulances flew around in great numbers as well, though they were harder to make out against the darkness of the sky.

The students harried by Ichihanaran Festival prep, however, were easygoing.

Or maybe it was just because being out working like this was such a departure from their regular routine.

“Hey, what’s all that about?”

“It’s pretty over-the-top. Maybe some guy brought alcohol into a school building?”

“I could see Anti-Skill and ambulances responding to that, but why would they need the fire department?”

“Well, it’s the Ichihanaran Festival, right? Maybe the fire department wants to show off to everyone. You know. They show up at school, get their fire hoses ready, and bravely put out a big fire caused by tempura oil.”

…That wasn’t the case, of course, but that was how the students tried to explain it: by locking it inside the framework of their own understanding, as if not sensing danger was synonymous with not running afoul of it.

Students passed this way and that with piles of midnight snacks to get them through their night of work. But amid this scene, there was a bench next to a few vending machines that none of them bothered to notice.

The problem was neither the vending machines nor the bench.

It was the dark-skinned girl with braided silver hair lying on the bench.

Marianne Sringeneier.

Standing tall behind the bench was a person in the form of an oil drum. Her name was Mjölnir. Both were official members of Gremlin, the group that had rocked the world.

“…Wonder what all that racket is about.”

Behind Marianne, Mjölnir rocked back and forth. She seemed happy somehow—not because of the change in the situation, but because Marianne had briefly come out of her daze to notice her surroundings.

If paying close attention to the Anti-Skill special vehicles, you would find a specific rule governing the direction they traveled. Analyze that data even more and you might have been able to pinpoint the epicenter of the Academy City disturbance. And it wasn’t just the one epicenter; you might also notice the irregular vehicle movements, the ones that seemed to be drifting about the streets without a care in the world.

…However.

“So now what?”

Killing one or two people wouldn’t be the end of it.

The land, the terrain, the city, the culture, the history… Would they destroy that?

Would they replace all this scenery with something grotesque and psychedelic?

That was the question she asked.

In response, Mjölnir shook back and forth.

The girl, who had taken on this optimized form of her own volition, was something of a rarity in Gremlin in that she wasn’t the least bit disgusted by Marianne’s words and deeds. Without Thor here to twist the situation this way or that, the axiomatic truth was the two of them would come up with extremely unsettling plans during a strategy session.

A giant boulder placed atop a steep hill.

Just a little bit of force from a single person would easily send it rolling. But once it picked up speed, there would be no group of people large enough to stop it.

Not even the boulder itself would be able to halt its course.

Still lying on the bench, Marianne stuck her hand into the pocket of her overalls and fished out a saw made of gold. It was meant to modify human bodies or outright destroy them—to disassemble and recreate a person without letting them die.

With all the prep for the festival taking place around them, nobody seemed to mind Marianne twirling around a bladed object like that.

Even now, people saw her as just another piece of the city’s peaceful scenery.

But with only a little force, a nudge in the back, however…

…she would create a vision of red and black as far as the eye could see…

“…Ugh, that would be so much work. I don’t wanna.”

The oil drum rattled back and forth, but Marianne decided to stay on her bench bed and sulk.

No sorcerer could wield their powers without the motivation to get them going.

5

“Momozawa’s and Kakita’s teams are down? Those morons!!! They probably tried to take all the credit! This is what happens when you don’t play like a team!!!”

Anti-Skill officer Aiho Yomikawa shouted into her radio. The Windowless Building, the center of District 7, stood only a short distance away. Several Anti-Skill special vehicles were parked here, and though they were supposed to be maintaining order and elucidating the situation, they weren’t even being allowed into ground zero.

A blue vinyl sheet partitioned the scenery.

If Yomikawa’s eyes and memory could be trusted, the wall of the Windowless Building had been gouged out. This was despite its armor plating being supposedly impervious to nuclear weaponry.

“We don’t know anything about the suspect fleeing the scene, but she likely blew a hole in the Calculating Fortress from the inside and shot down the entire auto-copter squadron the city deployed to get things under control. She could have used weaponry, or an esper ability…or maybe just brute force. We don’t even have that level of intel. Stay frosty. Assume the suspect’s attacks can penetrate our jackets. Don’t go after her alone, even if you spot her! Am I clear?!”

Touma Kamijou drew back into the shadow of a nearby vending machine, listening to the angry shouting. It was a lot noisier here now. Too noisy.

Thor, who was hiding as well, sighed. “They’ll tighten up inspections soon. Inspections we obviously don’t have time for.”

“Who did Gremlin send here? Aside from you, I mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. They haven’t acted yet. If they had, Academy City would look a hell of a lot different now. I bet they’re making doubly sure this sudden opportunity isn’t some kind of trap.” Thor swore under his breath. “Ollerus’s group should be up to something now, but not backstage—somewhere even deeper in the shadows. Fräulein Kreutune will meet a miserable end no matter which one of them captures her. We’ve gotta find her. And fast.”

“…No, wait,” Kamijou objected quietly. “If you’re right, then both groups won’t know whether to trust any of this intel about her. Not when it was flung at them out of nowhere. It’s not like they’ve come in direct contact with her, which means we can fool them. We spread misinformation. Make them think it’s gotta be a trap, that they’d be careless to intervene now. We keep them away from her. Would that work?”

“I’m picking up what you’re putting down. Got a specific plan?”

“Neither group will believe us if we try to give them direct advice. Instead, we scatter the bait in secret before anyone can act—before they realize all this intel is actually right. We want our actions to show that everything about this woman looks like a trap.”

The first problem they’d need to solve was how to get away from the swarm of Anti-Skill officers in the area. Thor would probably go on a rampage if left to his own devices. He’d stick out like a sore thumb, and once Gremlin’s or Ollerus’s group caught wind of it, any chance he and Kamijou might have had would be gone. They couldn’t lay the trap if they came under constant surveillance beforehand.

Kamijou patted Thor on the shoulder and pointed. “We’ll play it by the book.”

“The fire truck?”

“Their uniforms. Big and bulky—they’ll hide everything about us, including our faces. They won’t know what we look like or how old we are. We borrow ’em for a bit. And then we just walk on out of their perimeter.”

6

Last Order and Fremea Seivelun arrived in School District 10.

It was adjacent to District 7, making it easily accessible on foot—but the number one thing it was known for was, in a word, its roughness. According to one anecdote, delivery workers would purposely go around this district on the way to their destination. It was a legendary area during normal hours, but at night and during Ichihanaran prep, nobody acted with much restraint; it was very clear this was the last place the girls should have been.

If you came up with a tagline like rescue these two girls who wandered into the lawless District 10 by any means necessary, a film studies club could probably make an entire independent action movie out of it.

But Last Order and Fremea had something in common.

When it came to danger, they were both incredibly dense.

“Heh-heh. Look at that parking garage—it’s Street Stall Spire, very famous in Academy City! says Misaka says Misaka, puffing up with pride.”

“I—I knew that already anyway!”

“Then do you know what the most popular store in the Spire is? asks Misaka asks Misaka, going in for the kill.”

The easiest way to conceptualize the Spire was to think of it as a parking garage occupied entirely by station wagons and RVs that had been converted into street stalls. The garage wasn’t packed to the gills, given the space the vendors needed for guest seating and tables, but that still equated to around four or five hundred stores in a single building.

While the Spire wasn’t an enclosed space, the vendors had set up more than the necessary number of fans and ducts for ventilating exhaust gas. Combined with the LED bulbs providing illumination at irregular intervals, the structure itself looked like a homemade assemblage of junk.

The lines of stalls had no sense of uniformity, which allowed an impression of motley filth to dominate. School District 10 was already infamous for how dangerous it could be; there was always someone with dyed hair or a shaved head in eyeshot. Scars and tattoos were as prevalent among the patrons as glasses and contact lenses.

To cut right to the chase, girls like Last Order and Fremea would get a game-over screen within five seconds of entering the building—or so one might think.

“What the—? What are little kids doing here?”

“C’mon, man! You can’t put the brochures here—it’s filthy! What if someone gives these harmless girls a shakedown?!”

“Hey, you two! If you’ve got nothin’ else to do, come be my bodyguards. I’ll whip up a few soy sauce eggs for ’em as a treat!!!”

“You’re quite far from home, you know? So be careful while getting to that big ole station, okay?”

Surprisingly, many people were neither ally nor enemy. It was the number one law (lol) of delinquents: Always be nice to little kids and also abandoned cats left out in the rain!!!

“Anyway, don’t the shops change as you get higher up?” asked Fremea.

“Indeed, they do. The lower floors are meant for the majority of customers and the majority of consumption, with lots of junk food. The upper floors don’t get as much foot traffic, but they sell weird food meant for connoisseurs and make enough to get by, explains Misaka explains Misaka.” Last Order lifted her arm and pointed. “But there are some crazy shops on the upper floors, too, patronized by only the craziest guests, adds Misaka adds Misaka.”

The parking garage had elevators as well but not as many as a department store or a hotel. Too many guests crowding them led to lines, which led to fights, so their usage was banned. Following the flow of traffic, the two girls headed up several slopes toward the highest floor.

Last Order’s comment about the food growing more specialized the higher you ascended seemed to be true. At the very top, coffee shops owned by men in tailcoats and stalls where a woman would serve tea ceremony dishes became more common—and yet all were terribly inexpensive, which might leave people wondering if something was wrong instead of being happy at the prices.

Neither girl noticed any of this. Last Order was mostly in the lead as they trekked toward the backmost part of the top floor and a single stall.

It was a small food truck, yes, but unlike all the other places, this one didn’t have a kitchen area inside. Serious camping equipment surrounded the truck, allowing for open-air cooking. Apparently, it was a popular place, but many of its seats were empty, perhaps owing to the time of day.

Only one person cooked, but a few other women were present, though they seemed to have no connection to food or to the service industry. Spend a month in District 10, and you’d be able to pin them as hired hands—bodyguards in public, doers of dirty jobs in private.

But as stated many times already, neither Last Order nor Fremea were aware of any of this.

Pale-blue diodes blinked at the ends of the bodyguards’ zero-nicotine electronic cigarettes—at least, that’s what the items looked like, but in reality, they seemed incredibly suspicious—as they took them out of their mouths. The two girls ignored them and went to the only person doing the cooking. They also ignored the positioning of the tables and chairs nearby, pushing them out of the way.

“I’ll have the usual! says Misaka says Misaka with great impact!!!”

“…I ain’t never seen you before. And you better not go around sayin’ that line in this district, y’hear? Wouldn’t want you endin’ up in some shady dealings.”

The chef’s voice was flat and low, devoid of emotion.

Fremea took it upon herself to sit down on one of the camping chairs. She glanced around. “Anyway, what kind of restaurant is this?”

“Chinese food.”

“Nya. You don’t look Chinese.”

“We call salted-butter ramen and mild chili oil Chinese food in this country, miss.”

Last Order sat down in turn, then pulled in her chin for some reason, retaining her know-it-all expression. “Misaka knows this store doesn’t have a menu display, says Misaka says Misaka, revealing hidden information. After all, they only make one meal!!! says Misaka says Misaka, pointing and throwing information at you!!!”

“Yeah, the dish is—,” started one of the bodyguards before another woman stomped on her foot.

The chef’s eyes had no emotion in them. “Hey, as long as you’ve got the money, I ain’t complainin’.”

With that, he opened the lid of a silver stockpot and stuck into it a tool that looked like a ridiculously large fork.

Fremea’s nose twitched. Her brows knotted at the oddly sweet aroma. “…What do you sell here?”

“Huge pieces of meat, answers Misaka answers Misaka immediately.” Last Order puffed out her chest, which was pointless for her. “You know—the huge pieces of meat you only ever see in manga and stuff!!! says Misaka says Misaka, running her mouth about something she’s never even seen!!!”

“A-anyway, you said you’ve never seen it!!! Nya, nya!!!”

And out came the very product Last Order had advertised.

The plate was big enough to hold an entire family-sized pizza, but there was certainly no salad on the side. Only a humongous roasted pork fillet sat there in its entirety, bisecting the dish. It was as thick as a Swiss roll from the supermarket.

Last Order’s face lit up like a foreigner in another country who understood a superficial phrase she’d just used in the native language. “See I told you!!! says Misaka says Misaka, her eyes glowing and stuff!!!”

“…Anyway, this looks like roasted pork fillet. But it smells sweet. The outside looks crunchy, too. It is like the stuff you put on top of ramen?”

“No, that’s just somethin’ used with Japanese ramen. It’d be too oily to eat by itself,” answered the chef, flipping open a sports newspaper as though he was done working for the day.

Fremea cocked her head. “Wait, um, then is there a fork or a knife or—?”

“Tsk—tsk—tsk, says Misaka says Misaka, waggling her index finger as an effective preface.”

“…Anyway, if you keep acting like such a know-it-all, I’ll splatter meat sauce on your clothes.”

“Wait, wait!!! Misaka will explain, so wait a second!!! begs Misaka begs Misaka!!!” Last Order, panicking, put up her hands in a meaningless guard. “I said it was a huge piece of meat like you see in manga, remember? confirms Misaka confirms Misaka. And have you ever seen any manga character go at it like a civilized person with a fork and knife?! demands Misaka demands Misaka!!!”

“…Anyway, how do you eat it, then?” asked Fremea.

Last Order let her actions do the talking.

“Like this.”

She grabbed both ends of the meat slab and chomped down right in the middle of it.

In that instant, time stopped for Fremea Seivelun. She felt a pillar of common sense crumble to pieces within her.

Her mouth opened to let out her primal instinct.

“It’s manga!!! It’s manga meat!!!”

“Right? says Misaka says Misaka, giving you a smug look.”

“…Nya. I see. So this is mammoth meat…”

And so Fremea, also feeling admiration but not quite in the right way, set upon the giant platter of meat.

7

Kamijou and Thor were next to the loading dock of an expensive hotel outside Anti-Skill’s perimeter. They removed their firefighting gear and tossed it into a metal dumpster, then left.

“What’s important here,” said Thor as they walked, “are the three groups: Fräulein, Gremlin, and Ollerus’s force. All three are moving about in Academy City, but we have no idea where any of them are.”

“…Not even Gremlin? Aren’t you with them?”

“If we constantly checked up on where everyone was, I’d never have had a chance to run interference like this. I could contact them and meet up. But if we do that over and over again, they might catch on.”

The two boys walked down a sidewalk along a main roadway. Their first goal was to get away from the chaos’s epicenter. On the way, they passed a group of students who seemed to be pulling an all-nighter for Ichihanaran Festival prep. An Anti-Skill officer on a pedestrian bridge looked this way and that, which nearly made Kamijou tense up until Thor elbowed him in the side to snap him out of it. Being hyperaware of Anti-Skill would just draw attention.

“And what about you anyway? Ollerus met up with you, right?”

“We didn’t exactly trade contact info. I don’t know where he’d be right now. And I don’t know how many of his friends he brought along, either… He’s obviously not gonna listen to me if I tell him to stop fighting with Gremlin or that the whole Fräulein thing going on is a trap. He’d just be suspicious of where I got that information.”

“That only leaves one option.”

“If we go after someone, it has to be Gremlin. You have their contact info, and they trust you. Make them think Academy City’s elites and Ollerus’s group will show up at the same time. Then Gremlin won’t dare to try and get info on Fräulein until they’re totally sure of the situation.”

“Right, right,” interrupted Thor. “But then we’d be letting Ollerus’s group roam free. Sure, Gremlin might be after Fräulein so they can use her for their own evil ends—that doesn’t mean we can just hand her to Ollerus on a silver platter. She’s the core of Gremlin’s plan—or rather, Othinus’s. There’s no way Ollerus’s team won’t think of killing someone who is normally unkillable to foil it.”

“Once Gremlin falls into our trap, they’ll naturally be way more cautious… And once Ollerus’s group realizes that, they’ll probably send someone out to scout things out. That’s where we can lay the second trap. We don’t know where they are, but if we make them realize something’s changed, they’ll wander right into our hands. That’ll give us a point of contact with them.”

If they could feed fake information to Ollerus’s eyes and ears on reconnaissance, then they could rob the entire group of their ability to properly judge the situation.

“Right,” said Thor. “So we make Gremlin think the science side and Ollerus’s group will gang up on them, and we make Ollerus think that Gremlin and the science side will gang up on them.”

And with both groups too cautious to act, Kamijou and Thor would grab Fräulein and vanish. Then they would finally be able to protect her.

“…But that’s quite a tightrope to walk,” Thor continued. “Physically, it’ll bring Gremlin’s and Ollerus’s forces closer together, and they are dangerous when mixed. In the worst case, the trap won’t work, and they’ll start shooting. This city will turn into a war zone. And I’d be surprised if Fräulein could avoid the aftermath.”

“We’ve been walking a tightrope from the moment Gremlin infiltrated Academy City… Our trap needs to buy us time. One day or even half a day. Our top priority is rescuing Fräulein, but we need a few hours to prepare for that. We have to set up this timetable perfectly, or it’ll all come crashing down.”

8

Fully sated, Last Order and Fremea left the Street Stall Spire.

Then they both cocked their heads.

“…Where’s the station again? asks Misaka asks Misaka, confused.”

“Anyway, don’t ask me. Nya! I thought you were in the know.”

“I am in the know! I just felt like giving you a pop quiz!!! says Misaka says Misaka, having to explain every single little thing!!!”

Both girls had been given a cell phone by their respective guardians, so they could have opened up a map service to search for their current location and destination, but when you don’t use a program very much to begin with, you won’t think of it when you’re in trouble.

Despite the dangers present in School District 10, road signage was relatively plentiful for one simple reason: the concentration of various facilities any other district would have shied away from because of their low land values. Then again, District 10 still held the title of most dangerous place in the city, so there wasn’t any guarantee the road signs were even correct to begin with. Cases where signs had been bent or broken, replaced without permission, or turned so that their arrows faced the wrong directions were not unusual here.

If you asked someone who lived here why that was, they would probably say there was no reason. After all, it was no more than the logical extension of smashing the school windows at night.

So with that all said.

“Anyway, District 7 is north, so we should just walk north, and we’ll get there eventually.”

“Oh! Very nice idea!!! says Misaka says Misaka, her eyes going all sparkly!!!”

And so the two idiots plunged headlong down the path only a lost kid would choose.

Within five hundred meters, however, they ran into their first obstacle.

A T-intersection now barred their way forward.

“…Now what? asks Misaka asks Misaka just to make sure.”

“Nya! If we don’t know, we can just ask someone!!!”

Despite not knowing her current location, Fremea dashed off in a random direction, Last Order trailing along in her wake. For no other reason than they happened to be close by, the pair went up to an unfamiliar tall woman and asked her for directions.

“Anyway, which way is District 7?!”

“…?”

The woman had long silvery hair.

The woman had fair white skin.

The woman mimicked Fremea’s side-to-side motions.

The woman was on the run from a variety of people.

And.

The woman was named Fräulein Kreutune.

9

The next step: Lay a trap for both Gremlin’s and Ollerus’s forces.

There was something they would need to have a fighting chance.

To obtain the object in question, Kamijou and Thor headed for the nearest school. Considering all the Ichihanaran Festival prep going on, they’d be relatively free to go in and out and not have to worry about security at this hour. And for the exact same reason, the school was now filled with all sorts of items—like carpentry tools.

Even Kamijou wouldn’t normally have wanted to invite Thor—or anyone from Gremlin, for that matter—to his school. It was far too dangerous a point of contact to give. But you couldn’t make an omelet without breaking an egg or two. They could think of no other way to get what they needed.

…However.

“Wait, really? Kami isn’t back yet?”

As Kamijou tried to go through the school gate, he heard a voice that immediately made him jump behind a nearby tree.

There appeared to be some people having a conversation in the schoolyard. One was Komoe Tsukuyomi, a 135-centimeter-tall teacher, and the other was Seiri Fukiyose, executive officer for the Ichihanaran Festival.

“Miss Yomikawa said he just got caught up in a fight and that he should have been released from the Anti-Skill office by now.”

“He was supposed to be staying over tonight to work. Now he’s lost in the crowds and isn’t contacting us! Ugh! We’d be better off assuming he won’t be around to help us!!!”

There was so much oil that a tiny little ember would probably cause the whole schoolyard to erupt into a sea of flames. Kamijou began to sweat profusely from his every pore. He knew one thing for sure.

If those two caught him now, they would ruin everything. His tight, intricate, timetable-like plan would fall to pieces instantly.

“…Hey. Hey, Thor!!! What the hell are you just standing there for?! Get over here! Stay out of sight!!” whispered Kamijou.

“Huh? Why? I don’t get it,” Thor whispered back.

“…The whole reason my good name has been tarnished is because you suddenly picked a fight with me!!!”

Deciding they wouldn’t be able to march in the front, Kamijou dragged Thor, who still didn’t get it, away from the school grounds. They could loop around the neighborhood and try to go in the rear faculty entrance instead.

Schools at night are sometimes thought of as scary places, but with the classrooms and hallways constantly illuminated and people going every which way, this one was far from a silent locale. Each class was working on what they’d be showing off, making a variety of objects by assembling sheets of plywood and the like. The halls were crammed with items, making them harder to walk down than ever before.

But the unorganized mess also gave off that special excitement you only felt when a major event was approaching.

Thor seemed almost enthusiastic enough to start humming, in fact. “Nice, nice! I like this. I should have brought a spray can. I’m feelin’ like doing the wall up in graffiti.”

“You’re too into this. Snap out of it. Did you finish getting everything ready?”

“Well, you did destroy my Soul Arm with your right hand before. I tried fixing it up with what I had on hand, but I can probably only use it once. Should be enough, though.”

“Good. Wait, what? Only once???”

“Yeah. So what?”

Kamijou knew Thor wasn’t lying, but then something didn’t add up.

Indeed. He got the feeling he’d quarreled with someone who looked a lot like Mikoto Misaka near the Windowless Building. What had that been about…?

“Anyway, where are the computers in this place? Since it’s Academy City, do you have one in every classroom?”

“Maybe, but it’d be faster just to use the technology room. I think there’s a really expensive commercial printer in there, too.”

They just had to make sure nobody from Kamijou’s class spotted him. The farther away from his classroom he got, the less they’d have to hide. Once they got to an area for a different grade level, they’d even be able to pass a group of girls, for example, like normal people.

“What’s that? Why are all those girls in tracksuits carrying buckets?”

“They probably just used the club showers. Their hair was wet.”

“…Ah, peaceful days. Must be nice. Wish I was part of that.”

“I’m supposed to be part of that! But you people keep barging in, and now I might have to repeat a year!!!”

The IT room they reached was larger than a normal classroom. Specially made, it featured around forty computers lined up in rows. Nowadays, of course, young people generally had their own computers, so nobody was quite sure how grateful to be for this room, considering the investment that had gone into its creation.

The door was unlocked, and the lights had been left on.

It had probably been opened for students wanting to print a variety of posters for the festival.

Home printers had gotten more precise than before, but they could generally only print on A4-sized paper. Machines that could handle A2-sized posters were harder to find.

“But nobody’s inside. This is our chance.”

Touma and Thor snuck into the IT room.

The first step of their mission was complete.

10

Marianne leaned against Mjölnir, the giant, black, oil-drum-shaped objet d’art, holding a cell phone.

“Hmm. Lot of unconfirmed information flying around about this Fräulein Kreutune chick. There’s no telling if my alterations will affect her, and Thor is off doing who knows what… And with only your firepower, Mjölnir, I don’t think we can win a straight-up fight on our own.”

The drum rattled side to side as if in protest, but Marianne ignored it.

The voice on the phone sounded as if it thought everything was going according to plan. “Yeah. That’s why I’m out here, too… Anyway, I feel like they probably noticed all the weird stuff happening in this city already.”

“You mean Ollerus’s group?”

“Yeah. We’ll need a crap ton of firepower to suppress the target. We don’t want them sneaking in and snatching her after she’s captured. So we’re gonna start by taking the annoying bugs out of the picture. For now, let’s meet up.”

“Sure, sure,” said Marianne offhandedly before hanging up.

The way she moved about the city at night with a giant oil drum looked quite humorous, in a way. A good portion of the students running about through the streets to set up for the festival paid a lot of attention to them. This didn’t result in any incidents, however, probably because of the frequent patrols of cleaning and security robots.

But those students failed to realize something.

The dark-skinned girl strolling by was an expert in human modification and destruction, someone who could create flesh-colored hellscapes of gushing blood and who could yank open the curtains on such a tragedy at any time she wished.

“Argh. Thor told us no preventative attacks. But I think we’re getting to the end of our prep work here.”

Marianne’s tone was brusque, despite her accurate understanding of his strength. She gazed at the peaceful scene ahead but would not scruple to destroy it all.

They had agreed to meet up with Thor in the plaza in front of a station in District 7. The station was known for how busy it was even after the last train was well and gone, but now with all the festival prep happening, people would likely be more spread apart. The place wasn’t all that crowded.

“West entrance, west entrance… Huh? Is this the right one? Where’s Thor…?”

Marianne looked around but couldn’t find him. She took out her cell phone.

Only to stop mid-motion.

Mjölnir rattled from side to side, not seeing the change. Marianne stared wide-eyed at a bulletin board in the station-front plaza. Most of the flyers on the board were advertisements for plays and the like, because of the citywide cultural festival.

But one was out of place. It showed a big mug shot of a certain girl’s face. Small letters had been added below the photograph with detailed information.

They read:

Suspect: Marianne Sringeneier.

A dangerous individual sighted during an incident in Baggage City. She was last seen near District 7’s Bright Stair Hotel. If you have any information on her, please report it to Anti-Skill.

“…That’s just great.”

Marianne quickly ran her eyes over the flyer, then looked away from the bulletin board. Larger plazas always had Anti-Skill stations nearby. Careful not to turn her face toward it, she left the square.

Normal Anti-Skill officers weren’t what scared her. The core of the issue lay elsewhere.

Accompanied by Mjölnir, she took out her phone again and called up Thor. “We’ve got a problem, Thor! Looks like information about me has gone public in Academy City. If Ollerus’s group finds it, we won’t be able to use that hotel as a hideout anymore!!!”

“Academy City and Ollerus’s force… We could take them out on their own but against two at once? We’d be in trouble. And if we focus on Academy City, Ollerus and company might get closer to the treasure.”

“……”

If Ollerus’s group had caught on to Fräulein Kreutune’s importance, they might try to squash Gremlin’s—or rather, Othinus’s—plans by killing the supposedly unkillable woman.

A woman they’d found no substitute for.

Letting Ollerus get to her first would put them in an extremely dangerous situation.

“…Thankfully, I’ve got all my work tools on me. We can move to a different hideout just fine. The info flying around might be a trap, too. No guarantee there. Maybe we should focus on getting a new bed so we can do some real analysis.”

“Got it. You two already stand out. Be quiet about it, go slowly, and make sure nobody reports you. And no random fights with drunks, either.”

Marianne ended the call, then swore in spite of herself. She almost took her phone and smashed it into the ground, but Mjölnir rattled around, causing Marianne to just barely hold herself back.

“Whatever. A new bed, eh? If they put out a warrant for me, then every hotel will have my picture by now… Guess we should look for an abandoned building or something.”

11

One of the buildings around the station-front plaza was a department store. In its café, Thor hung up his cell phone.

“They’re on the move.”

Thor and Kamijou had lured Marianne to this District 7 plaza only after getting everything ready, of course. They’d forged the warrant notice on the bulletin board.

Thor had once transformed into Mikoto Misaka and approached Kamijou. It was with that same sorcery he’d morphed into Marianne, allowing Kamijou to take a picture with him on his cell phone, sneak into a school—still active at night, since its students were setting up for the festival—and print out the notice. While a calm observer might notice a variety of deficiencies and flaws, Marianne wasn’t familiar with the format of Academy City’s public bulletins. The forgery was more than enough to make her break into a cold sweat.

Kamijou sat across from Thor, watching the plaza outside the window as well. He took out his student notebook. “If Marianne does anything strange, Ollerus’s group will probably want to send someone out to see why. This is where we have to set our second trap.”

“We’re really playing it by your schedule?”

“Are you worried about me going alone?” Kamijou grinned a little. “We need to lay a trap to fool Ollerus and his people—so that they miss Gremlin entirely. If you showed up, they’d go all out and try to fight you. It would defeat the purpose.

“And,” he added, “you’re the only one who can get back into the action after taking damage from Fräulein Kreutune. She’d kill me in one hit. You’re the best card we have to play, so we have to keep you hidden. Anyway, hand me that pen. The Ink should be water based.”

With the pen attached to the table for writing down visitor feedback, Kamijou jotted something into his student notebook.

“If Marianne takes this seriously, she’ll shake off anyone coming after her with sorcery. And she won’t employ that awful spell that uses people like building blocks, I hope?”

“She might if she was trying to break through them. But what would she get out of causing a big incident by using her sorcery just to withdraw? Even a modification freak like her would be careful of that. Besides, she can modify more than just bodies. It’s just that it’s so crazy to see her mess with humans, you know? Draws all the attention.”

“What do you predict she’ll do?”

“There’s an accessory in Norse mythology that makes the wearer invisible. Since Marianne can create armaments of the gods, she’ll probably use something like that.” Thor admitted it all easily. “And any sorcery that hides you from others has a certain characteristic: The sorcerer using it has no way to check if they’re actually hidden… I already tampered with the geography here. She lost the ability to successfully conceal herself from the moment she set foot in the plaza. You’ll never lose sight of her.”

“I see,” murmured Kamijou. He wiped a few drops of condensed liquid on the outside of his glass of iced coffee with his finger, then used the moisture to stick two pages of his notebook together. “Then I’ll get going. If you can’t join back up with me, you’re on your own.”

Kamijou left the café and ran down the escalator. Once he was out of the department store building, he scanned his surroundings.

He spotted Marianne’s silver braids.

He took one deep breath, then slowly began to follow her.

He obviously couldn’t let Marianne notice him. On the other hand, his goal wasn’t to figure out her final destination. It was to stop anyone else from pursuing her—a tangled situation indeed.

Which meant Marianne wasn’t as important as the stretch of neighborhood behind her.

Kamijou exited the plaza after her. He walked down a narrow path, turning corner after corner, all his senses alert as he watched his surroundings.

If anyone had been using sorcery to make themselves invisible or otherwise difficult enough to detect, then perhaps his physical senses wouldn’t be able to perceive them, but still.

…A pursuer would have no reason to let Marianne detect mana like that. Ollerus’s force won’t be quite sure how to handle this. At least, I hope that’s the case.

Marianne continued along her unnecessarily serpentine route. Maybe she was worried about Anti-Skill tracking her.

After he turned a few more corners, Kamijou’s shoulders lurched.

Something was wrong.

By the time he realized it was the clear cover protecting a vending machine product sample, he’d already turned the corner. The cover reflected light—and something else.

Kamijou suspended his pursuit of Marianne. He found a door behind a building, opened it slightly, and slid inside.

After quietly closing the door, he heard regular footsteps approaching from outside.

Keeping his back to the wall, he glanced at a nearby table. The Ichihanaran Festival generally involved students renovating their school grounds into stalls and stages for plays and whatnot, but a lot of regular stores put up decorations, too. That might explain the toolbox on the table.

Kamijou grabbed an electric drill. On the outside, it looked kind of like a pistol.

As he did, the regular footsteps passed the door and began to grow faint again as they went after Marianne.

Before the footsteps were fully out of earshot, Kamijou reached for the back door’s knob again. He turned it slowly, careful not to make a sound, and pushed on it ever so slightly to open it.

He peered outside.

He saw the back of someone small.

He saw familiar blond hair.

Thor had told him she was part of Ollerus’s group.

“Leivinia Birdway…”

Now that he was seeing her again, though, he instantly felt a strange pressure weigh down on his heart.

Hawaii. Baggage City.

Gremlin had affected things directly—but the root cause lay elsewhere.

He felt his consciousness sway, almost more than made sense, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. Not after he’d come this far. If Marianne and Leivinia ran into each other, Kamijou and Thor’s plan would fail—their traps to distance the two forces would be ruined.

“……”

Kamijou tightened his grip on the electric drill he grasped.

He opened the back door a little more, then stepped out onto the narrow street outside.

He’d prepared himself for this long ago.

And in a way, he was glad it was her this time.

12

District 7 is that way.

If you lose your way, just look at the stars.

It’s close enough to walk back.

“W-wow, wow, we’re finally back somewhere I recognize, says Misaka says Misaka in admiration. I had no idea the true queen in the know was here all along, says Misaka says Misaka, surprised at the sudden intruder.”

Upon following Fräulein Kreutune’s directions and getting back to School District 7, Last Order looked around wide-eyed.

Fremea put her hands on her hips. “Nya. Lost kids are always such a handful. Anyway, please don’t cause me any more trouble than this.”

From beginning to end, she’d never realized that she was the lost kid.

Meanwhile…

“…?”

Fräulein Kreutune had, for some reason, led them by the hand back to District 7. Last Order gave her a few pats on the back—well, more like on the waist—with her little hand. “For now, I should say thank you, says Misaka says Misaka, trying to thank you but in a kinda condescending way! By the way, what’s your name?”

“My name…”

Fräulein Kreutune’s eyes moved upward, but her neck remained still. It was less like she was trying to remember something and more like she was mechanically sifting through a huge amount of data.

“Fräulein Kreutune. Yes… That is my name.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s trade e-mails! says Misaka says Misaka, starting her next mission!!! Because apparently that’s the friend-making ritual!!!”

“…?”

“Nya. Anyway, do you have a cell phone?”

“…Cell phone…”

Fräulein Kreutune’s eyes moved in odd directions a couple more times, but the woman didn’t seem to come up with an answer she liked. However, it didn’t matter to Last Order or Fremea if she found one or not.

“Anyway, fine, nya! I guess I’ll lend you this!”

Fremea took an egg-like device out of her pocket. A round fastener and a string was attached to its tip, like a key holder. It was a crime prevention beeper meant for children to carry around.

Hamazura and the others had originally given it to Fremea in anticipation of the Freshmen’s attack. It was a cheap thing; any interference from someone who knew what they were doing would naturally render it inoperable. The members of the new Item didn’t have much faith in it.

But now Fremea launched into her grand explanation, sniffing smugly. “This thingy uses something called GPS. If you pull the string, it will tell any cell phone it’s connected to exactly where you are! If you do, um, if you do this with it—see? It’s fine! Anyway, if you want to see us again, just pull the string and we’ll come running to your side!!!”

…If it was actually hooked up to a GPS, Fremea would never have gotten lost. It was clear as day she didn’t really understand how the device worked, but…

“Oh, hmm! But then we wouldn’t be able to contact her, says Misaka says Misaka in complaint.”

“Heh-heh. It can actually receive simple zero-yen text messages! Anyway, it can only get messages from cell phones that are registered and only under one hundred and fifty characters. And it can only receive, not send. It’s got a lot of annoying restrictions, but still!!!”

“…?”

Fräulein Kreutune cocked her head and looked at the crime prevention beeper she’d just been given.

Last Order looked up at her. “Okay! The ritual is done, which makes you our friend! says Misaka says Misaka just to make sure you know!!!”

“…Friend?”

“Nya. Anyway, there’s no real reason we can’t be friends.”

“…Friends.”

The angle of Fräulein Kreutune’s head deepened. Eventually, her eyeballs turned. “Yes. Understood,” she answered. “We are friends.”

13

“Which brings me here.”

Leivinia didn’t so much raise her hands as she leveled them almost horizontally into a shrug. She continued without turning around.

“You’ve changed since I saw you last. Is your right hand out of commission? Either way, I agree with you about the power drill. Definitely more effective depending on the situation. But could you stop nudging the tip against the back of my neck?”

“Just don’t move, all right?” Kamijou, who had approached her from behind, keenly felt the trigger switch. He spoke quietly. “I know you’re powerful enough to lead a sorcerer’s society, and I know you can fling your group around however you want. If we fought for real, I’d be helpless. But now I have the upper hand. I can turn on the drill before you try anything.”

“Can you, though?”

If anything happened, Leivinia would meet a more miserable end than dying from a bullet. Despite how clear that was, though, her muscles weren’t tense in the slightest.

“You don’t seriously think you can kill me like this, do you?”

“……”

Kamijou didn’t answer. His gaze went past her. Marianne had disappeared around a corner, apparently not noticing any of this.

Birdway sighed languidly, as though a fish had just gotten off her line. “I never thought you’d side with Gremlin after all this. Do you understand what you’re doing?”

“If you’re asking if I’m doing the right thing, then, well, I don’t know. But I’m thinking for myself now at least.”

“Even though someone might have planted those ideas in your head?”

“I think you’re the one who likes doing that stuff.”

“……” For a very brief moment, Leivinia’s breath caught.

Kamijou ignored this and continued. “I saw what went down at Baggage City. You knew that would happen, and you used me anyway. I can’t keep trusting you anymore. I’m not naive.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“What, that you kept casualties to a minimum or something?” Kamijou desperately tried to stop the hand holding the drill from trembling unnaturally. “I bet. I’m just a high school punk. You could probably do all sorts of crazy, complicated calculations. And you got the optimal answer in the shortest time. You confined the entire disturbance to Baggage City. Maybe the chaos would have spread through the whole world otherwise, and the future would be just that much worse. I bet that was the conclusion you came to.”

“Well, I—”

“I’m not done,” interrupted Kamijou before she could finish. “After seeing it for myself, I can’t bring myself to say it was the best option. Kagun Kihara died. A girl was crying—she had to live with it! …Maybe that was never part of the plan. Maybe it was an accident. But nothing you did was an accident!!! I don’t know what you got out of making all that happen, but it doesn’t change the fact that you sacrificed that city for your own gain!!! How am I…?”

Kamijou trailed off, realizing that his lips were trembling.

He was rattled.

Why?

Was he losing the ability to control his temper? Was all his frustration at Birdway’s betrayal welling up inside him? Or was he hoping that, even now, Birdway would deny it all and explain how mistaken he was? But she hadn’t. Was that what rattled him? Unable to grasp the depths of his own heart, he squeezed out his next words.

“…How am I supposed to unconditionally trust someone like you…?!”

For a few moments, Leivinia remained still.

Kamijou couldn’t see her expression, as her back was turned.

A short while passed.

The she sighed slightly. Languidly, she spoke again.

“Well, I was already prepared for this.”

“…What?”

“Just realizing my goals are definitely the right ones. Anyway, here’s my response: Get that lame-ass toy off my fucking neck. Especially if we’re not friends. I’m not a saint. I won’t just sit here and let a complete stranger do this to me.”

Ker-click.

As if something had just switched over, Leivinia’s tone changed.

Into a tone Kamijou had never heard from her.

It was cold. Chilling.

Or possibly reminiscent of death.

“I’ll be honest,” she said. “Do you realize how you’ve set up this situation? If you die here, you’d have only yourself to blame. Because you threw away your option of appealing to my emotions and begging for your life.”

There was no way for them to avoid a clash.

And Birdway would probably fight him using something she’d never shown him before.

Despite his incredible advantage, Kamijou felt his right hand unnaturally tense around the power drill. Tension and fear spewed poison into his mind. He even felt, physically, like his right hand’s structure was about to be destroyed.

The moment was shattered, however, by a sudden third voice.

“Hey! What are you doing over there?!”

As intense lights bathed him, Kamijou accidentally turned around. An Anti-Skill officer—a defender of peace and order in the city—ran toward him. And the man’s eyes were incapable of immediately seeing the interplay between the esper and the sorcerer.

To him, it looked simple.

Person A was holding Person B at weapon point.

“Shit!” hissed Birdway, the first to react. “Put your hand dow—”

But before she could finish, something concrete, something physical occurred.

Bam-ba-bam!!!!!!

Several gunshots rang out, and a ball of intense pain exploded throughout Kamijou’s body.

The agony was incredible, like a scorching hot ball of fire had burst inside him.

Kamijou’s right hand fell limp, and the power drill clattered to the ground. Before he could figure out why he couldn’t move his arm, the despondency reached every corner of his body.

He couldn’t even lower his gaze to look at his own torso.

The instant he tried, he crumpled to the asphalt and lay there. Snip, snip—he felt events chronologically detached in his mind and realized he was blinking in and out of consciousness.

From somewhere far away, he heard the voices of adults.

“You—idiot! Why—hell did you have—bullets loaded?!”

“But—I was…!!!”

He felt something important leaving his body through a hole, like the air going out of a balloon. A disgustingly wet sensation covered his upper body.

He heard Birdway, too—the one who should have been his enemy.

“Shut—up!!! …Listen—call—ambulance! I’ll perform—aid—here. Like hell—ever trust—you!!!”

His vision blinked on and off.

He couldn’t piece his memories together in the correct order.

Had she said “first aid”? All she did was roll him over so that he faced up. He thought he could feel hands grope around near the center of his torso, but he couldn’t imagine how that would help him heal from this.

And also.

Something about the first aid felt very wrong.

He heard a tearing sound, like paper ripping in half.

Leivinia stopped her hands for a moment when she heard the ambulance siren. She’d called it first aid, but she’d really just been holding a handkerchief to Kamijou’s wound.

The ambulance couldn’t fit down the narrow street. It seemed to have parked on the road out front. Several paramedics rushed toward them, pushing a stretcher.

Birdway snarled at them, “The bullets hit his right side but came out the other! No sign of damage to arteries or organs!!! But there might still be shrapnel inside him. Don’t get overconfident just because they went through. Do a proper biopsy!!!”

“We understand. You can leave him to us!!!”

“Just do your damn job. Do it, and he’ll survive.”

The Anti-Skill officers tried to talk to her, probably to ask what had happened—but at the sharp flash of a blade, they tensed up. If they’d actually rejected restraint and called out to her, she may have really cut them all into little pieces.

She’d used her handkerchief on Kamijou, so she didn’t have anything to wipe the bright red off her hands with.

Scowling, she left the area. Eventually, she took something out of her pocket.

Touma Kamijou’s student notebook.

She called someone on her cell phone, narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah. That’s right. You heard me. Ran into some interference but from an unexpected place. Gremlin has won Touma Kamijou to their side.”

She flipped through the pages of his notebook with her bloody hand.

Birdway hadn’t tried to treat him out of pure compassion. She was about to lose a mouth that could be giving her hints. She needed a new information source, and she couldn’t be picky about it. That was the logical side of her justification.

Kamijou was down, but she’d figured out who was behind him.

Certain of it, she continued, “His connection…was with Marianne Sringeneier. Her contact info is in his notebook. I couldn’t make out some of the numbers—they were too small and blotted out by sweat or something. But it seems like Gremlin made their base in District 12. If we’re going ahead with a surprise attack to wipe them out, we’ll want to focus our forces there.”

As Kamijou was loaded onto the stretcher by the paramedics, his mind hazy, he realized Birdway was contacting someone.

…She fell for it, he thought.

Kamijou wasn’t deeply involved in Ollerus’s forces; he certainly wasn’t a member. If he’d suddenly brought them “useful” information and warned them, they would have been suspicious.

So he’d given up on trying to convey it with words.

He needed them to personally pluck the information from his own pockets.

If he could make them believe they’d gotten extremely important intel from him, they’d accept it—even though the intel was the same.

…Nonetheless, he hadn’t anticipated he would run into Birdway—or that an Anti-Skill intervention would put him at death’s door.

…Now Birdway thinks Marianne and I are connected. If she knows we quarreled in Academy City, then it’ll just be confirming what she already suspected. If Birdway gives this info to the rest of Ollerus’s forces, then they’ll all head to School District 12. Where Gremlin isn’t…

Both Gremlin’s and Ollerus’s forces were now active in different places.

He didn’t know how much time he’d just bought them.

But he’d avoided an all-out war for Fräulein Kreutune for now, at least.

…It’s up to you now, God of Thunder. She’s roaming free. If she makes too much of a scene, both groups will be drawn right back to where she is…

“Gh, burph, eckk-eckk!!!”

“Calm down! Hey, can we access the data banks yet?! We need his blood type to give him a transfusion. Physiological saline isn’t gonna cut it!!!”

The rear door of the ambulance slammed shut, blocking Kamijou’s view of the rest of the world.

It marked the moment he finally blacked out.

The shrill sirens would have been blaring above him, but now he couldn’t even perceive that.

FINAL CHAPTER

Unfettered

Installing……Complete.

1

The day ended.

Prep time was over.

At last, the curtains were about to rise on the Ichihanaran Festival.

“…Friends.”

Even after parting ways with Last Order and Fremea Seivelun, Fräulein Kreutune simply stood there in the middle of the nighttime road.

“Friends?”

She knew the word but only as a group of letters—not as a feeling. One might be able to estimate just how unrelated to her the word was simply by considering the records of the dark witch hunts or the report on her scientific analysis.

The device was still in her hand. It was shaped like an egg and was about as big.

She could pull the string to call for someone. The connection within her was tiny but there.

She thought about that for a moment. Then her eyeballs swiveled in a strange direction.

“…Located…”

A masculine voice flew into her eardrums.

As soon as she perceived it, there was a bwshhh!!! of compressed air being released. A container landed at her feet. It looked like a can of juice. A few more of them flew over, thrown from a distance, and immediately began to spew out sheer white curtains of smoke. In the blink of an eye, the riot-suppression smoke had transformed into a dense fog around her that stretched twenty meters in every direction.

The anti-living-body effect stimulated her mucous membranes and scrambled her senses.

The anti-machine effect blocked sound and light, save for the specific ultraviolet wavelengths the chemical had been concocted to let through.

The interference effects caused the voices around her to distort and whirl, driving a ferocious wave of stimulation straight into her.

“Capture the woman!!! She’s the number one suspect in the attack on the General Board chairperson! Do whatever it takes!!!”

The Anti-Skill officers, wearing unique masks that made their faces look like those of gray aliens, slipped through the interference effects and plunged through the smoke using special sensors.

“……”

Fräulein Kreutune remained silent from beginning to end.

She grasped the egg-like device in her right hand.

Swivel.

In response to the violence, her eyes turned in an odd direction.

The darkness in Academy City was multifaceted, each aspect differing in type and depth. It was like a jigsaw puzzle on the whole, with so many black pieces interlocking to create a gigantic picture of the city’s dark underbelly.

It might be easier to imagine a swarm of flies packed onto a rotting animal corpse.

Among those facets was one that particularly strained Academy City’s management capabilities—one close to the so-called General Board.

As far as the public knew, it was a gas turbine power plant serving as an emergency electricity supply for various government offices and agencies.

The structure beneath the surface of neat and tidy District 3 was massive. And that’s where he was.

“Hey, now. Hey, hey, now. Sorry for abandoning you here for a while, all right? We Kiharas were really all over the place during that Baggage City nonsense.”

A woman in a baggy white lab coat over an obviously premade job-hunting suit had just come down the cramped employee elevator as she said that.

Since this was just a decoy facility anyway, the huge space contained no power-generating equipment. The place could have hosted an American football game and was devoid of anything that might provide cover. Normally, two people in such a space would paint a lonely picture.

But that wasn’t how it felt.

A dense “presence” filled the entire facility.

The reason? Simple.

The entire underground space, made of unfaced concrete, was white.

Spiderwebs.

Or perhaps silkworm cocoons.

The walls and floors were totally covered. You couldn’t tell what color they were originally supposed to be. The woman in the lab coat stepped across the floor, but her feet weren’t hitting concrete. The white substance beneath her undulated unnaturally. Up near the ceiling, arched structures stretched from wall to wall or wall to ceiling like suspension bridges.

And then there was the center of the space.

Not just the center of the floor—the mathematical center of the room.

Supported by several arches was an immense white sphere. It was like an aggregation of spiderwebs or a giant chrysalis. And from the gaps in the structure, one could glimpse the handsome features of his face.

Teitoku Kakine.

Dark Matter.

Academy City’s number two Level Five.

The symbol of his ability covered the vast chamber, disorderly scattered. No average machining tool would be able to even scratch any of it. Until very recently, he’d been barely hanging on after injuries to most of his physical body. They’d taken advantage of that. He’d been in the hands of one of the Kiharas, forced to manufacture a variety of weaponry. But once he’d constructed a means of creating internal organs using his ability, the situation had changed drastically.

Kakine had explosively scattered his Dark Matter and buried in it this entire Kihara research facility. Those who considered this a matter of grave concern had sealed the place off.

The woman in the lab coat and job-hunting suit knew all this.

And yet her words still came so easily.

“Seems like one of the General Board chairperson’s pets got out. Anti-Skill is too public—they can’t deal with her. We’re suppressing information on it, but we want your help to bring the chaos under control.”

“……”

He didn’t answer.

Only his eyes glinted as they stared at her from the gaps in the spiderweb or the chrysalis.

“Yes, yes. I do have my own motives, obviously. Letting you loose in the city comes with its own risks. But in my opinion, there’s no need to let those risks affect my actions. In fact, if you do such a good job that you destroy the Kiharas’ scenario, it would really whet my appetite for research. And that would be a big help to me.”

“……”

“I’ll be brief. Do as you wish. All the Kiharas share this viewpoint. Do you understand the situation?”

No answer.

Instead of speaking, Teitoku Kakine made the ground roll at the woman’s feet. The pure white land was already in a state of unnatural undulation, but now it began to squirm, as though recreating an actual ocean.

…I see. The woman quietly smiled. Teitoku Kakine can use his ability to recreate lost organs. The line behind his actual body and his ability of fiction is fading. Perhaps, in essence, everything filling this space is on the verge of becoming Teitoku Kakine.

In a way, it was almost like immortality. Or maybe she should see it as an ongoing dilution of the unseen, of life and the soul.

If one thought of Academy City’s number one Level Five as a distinct individual causing thorough destruction, then the contrast between the two held no end of interest to a researcher like her.

Destruction and production.

When you placed them side by side, with destruction reigning supreme, it almost felt like a glimpse into the pure essence of science. The woman almost smiled in spite of herself.

As a scientist, she was loath to so easily accept the existence of supernatural beings like gods and devils. But the longer you worked at a research job, the more moments you had that seemed like dark jokes of an omnipotent deity—like this one.

“You’re free to do as you please. The Kiharas welcome the grand experiment that you are—no matter the result.”

As for Accelerator, the other side of the coin of destruction and production, he had an unpleasant scowl on his face.

He and Kikyou Yoshikawa had done everything in their power in their search for Last Order; and he’d even jumped from building to building in the Academy City nightscape for a while. None of this had given him any useful information on the vanished girl. He decided to return to the apartment for now, and when he did, he stumbled upon the scene of the crime: Last Order, having quickly returned, had found the chocolate hidden in the kitchen cabinet (owned by Aiho Yomikawa, kept there in case she got mad about a failed attempt at cooking) and was now devouring it.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Mgr-mm!!! Listen to this! Misaka, she, today, um, she made friends—ow!!! says Misaka says Misaka, stunned at the random karate chop that made no sense!!!”

After a few more chops to vent his annoyance, Accelerator threw himself off his crutch and onto the sofa.

“Friends?” asked Yoshikawa.

“Yeah! There was a really annoying blond kid, and while I was beating her in a game—oh, we were competing over tasty dinner—we met someone who told us the way back to District 7, says Misa—”

“……”

“……”

Detecting the unnatural feel of the sudden silence, even Last Order’s danger sense—which normally never came online at all—began to work.

“Dinner, you say?” said Yoshikawa.

“…Wait. You went out and had dinner without us? Is that it?” asked Accelerator.

The two of them had been on their evidently pointless mission this whole time—they hadn’t eaten a bite yet!!!

Fremea Seivelun, on the other hand, was still lost.

“Oh, oh no!!! I don’t know the way back to District 13 from District 7!!!”

But she was ever unwilling to admit she had no idea where she was. She concluded it was everyone else’s fault for not telling her how to get home.

And also, to be honest, she was exhausted.

Midnight was fast approaching. She’d never wanted to go to bed more than now.

“Nya. I guess this spot works.”

She curled up on a bench in a plaza in front of a station and simply closed her eyes.

Despite Fremea having gone through something exceptional—being hunted and nearly killed by the Freshmen, an Academy City underworld group—one couldn’t help but feel like her total lack of meticulousness brought her a lot of unneeded trouble.

The dark writhed.

Once Shiage Hamazura and Rikou Takitsubo confirmed Fremea still wasn’t back in her District 13 dorm, they ran out into the nighttime city once more. They had no idea why the girl had disappeared to begin with, what her goal was, or where she’d even gone.

The Freshmen had once gone after Fremea, but with their leader Umidori Kuroyoru now hamstrung, Hamazura and company had assumed the shadowy group had ceased all activities. But there was a nonzero chance remnants of the organization were still working behind the scenes.

And.

Their roommates Shizuri Mugino and Saiai Kinuhata had another task.

That being: to clean the apartment.

“How the heck did it even get this messy? The veranda is half melted.”

“I was cooking in the kitchen, and I ended up making a person. They were being really uppity, so I took a shot.”

“?”

None of that made any sense, but Kinuhata decided not to question it.

High-level espers varied greatly, and while Mugino possessed incredible firepower, she didn’t have much control over it. For this reason, people called her more powerful than Number Three in terms of pure destructive power but ranked her fourth because of her lack of versatility.

Considering the sheer strength of the ability she wielded, she was very lucky she hadn’t yet killed anyone on accident when she sneezed or hiccupped.

Mugino sighed. “Well, I have to test my prosthetic hand regularly to make sure the fingers all have full range of motion. And since cleaning the apartment involves both delicate movements and strength-based tasks, that makes it a pretty good test, then, right?

“Yeah, okay, but that cookbook is, like, the size of a phone book! And also, I totally hear it squeezing! Is that your prosthetic or just your emotions?!”

Realizing Mugino tidying up could brick-ify every piece of furniture they had, Kinuhata recommended the girl take a break instead.

Mugino opened the fridge. They were out of bottles of mineral water, though, so she decided to go to the convenience store.

But something happened on the way there.

She encountered a facet of the darkness that lurked in Academy City.

“?”

Footsteps. And they sounded sticky.

Thanks to its abundance of apartment complexes, this part of town lacked the ample neon lighting typical of cities, so when night fell, the only source of illumination was the streetlights. Even though Mugino couldn’t see the source of the wet footsteps coming from right in front of her, she didn’t think it was odd.

Instead, something else tugged at her awareness.

Before she could figure out what it was, the next piece of information slid into her mind.

“Well, look at you. Guess people’s faces really do change if you don’t see them for a while.”

A high-pitched soprano.

A voice Mugino recognized.

“Seems like a lot’s happened while I was gone. Doesn’t matter to me, though. I doubt whatever happens to people who aren’t related to me will affect my life at all.”

The voice of a girl who Mugino had once cleaved in half with her own hand.

The voice of someone who couldn’t possibly have been here.

“Also, um…”

Long blond wavy hair. Skin as pale as a doll’s. A small snug physique. Mugino remembered the beret the girl always wore, her favorite miniskirt, and how she tended to hide her legs in stockings.

Those facial features, which had already been lost.

As the wet footsteps approached, she leaped into Mugino’s view.

“…Fren…da…?!”

“I don’t care if you’ve gotten past it, or moved on, or whatever. But I’ve never had a reason to stop being angry!!!”

Cendrillon, now somewhat smaller thanks to Mugino’s measurement mistakes, leaned back against a vending machine in District 7 of Academy City.

Due to all the prep work going into the Ichihanaran Festival, the streets were still littered with the sounds of DIY. And with so many students needing to create costumes for haunted houses, cafés, and the like, many schools were opting to keep their textile-related rooms open overnight.

Cendrillon snuck into one such school and created a dress for herself.

The representation of her power.

The essence of her transformation.

The foremost symbol of an average girl overpowering people with help from the power of sorcery.

…I’m sure Touma Kamijou has a whole rainbow of people buzzing around him. But I bet every single of them is spreading edited information to use his right arm for their own ends.

Cendrillon wasn’t personally an ally to Kamijou.

She had just one objective.

To deal critical damage to Gremlin, who had betrayed them in Hawaii and taken the victory for themselves.

She would use whatever means necessary. She would ally herself with whomever she had to.

Gremlin is spread thin all over the globe. I can try my best to root them out, but I probably won’t find them that way. However, they’re attached at the hip with Touma Kamijou. If I chase him, I should find Gremlin members lurking nearby.

She’d snuck into Academy City and secured a weapon.

Now came the real part of her plan.

“I suppose I should call it miraculous, hmm? Or maybe Anti-Skill’s proficiency comes through even in emergencies.”

Finished with his emergency surgery in the hospital that night, a frog-faced doctor spoke to a nurse he worked with.

“They missed his vitals, and the bullets went through him cleanly. It’ll just take some bed rest for him to stabilize. I can’t guarantee anything if he forces himself to move, though.”

Inside the ICU, separated by a full pane of glass both to prevent germs coming in and allow people on the outside to notice subtle changes in a patient, was Touma Kamijou. He was covered in electrodes. There was an oxygen mask over his face, and a blood transfusion tube was connected to his right arm near the elbow.

The vital signs on the screen held steady, but readings that were too stable were not a welcome sight in the medical profession. They could allow a doctor’s mind to wander, their guard to drop.

“Once he’s stable, he’ll be under Anti-Skill jurisdiction. You might as well prepare for that now. Though in this case, I’m not fully certain if he’ll be considered a victim or a suspect.”

The hallway was dark as their footsteps faded down it; all nonessential illumination had been extinguished according to lights-out regulations.

Once he was sure nobody was around, Touma Kamijou slowly opened his eyes.

“……”

He wanted to tear off the mask, to yank off the electrodes, to pull out the blood transfusion tube right this moment if he could. But if his vitals changed at all, doctors would rush straight back into the ICU. First, he needed to see how much he could physically move around.

Urgh…!!

He tried to sit up in bed, but just a tiny bit of strain on his abdominal muscles sent a dull pain shooting through him. He felt as though his fluids were being held inside with a thin film—like if he forced the issue, something would rupture, and he’d lose a ton of blood.

But he was still on that tightrope when it came to Fräulein Kreutune.

Gremlin, Ollerus’s group, and Fräulein Kreutune were all on the move.

They’d solved none of the problem yet.

He didn’t have time to rest here.

I’ll have to accept my wound opening back up… This time, I don’t see myself lasting very long, though.

He took shallow breaths inside his oxygen mask.

This time, if he burst out of the ICU, he ran a high risk of just collapsing on the street somewhere. And there was no guarantee he’d survive to be brought to the hospital again. Not only that, but also the odds of him clashing with sorcerers toying with the entire world and having a literal deathmatch with them were sky high.

The threat of death.

It wouldn’t really set in for any normal high school student. But it spread from Kamijou’s spine until it filled his entire body.

His breath caught.

He got an honest picture of the fear in his mind.

And then he began to act.

By the time the frog-faced doctor had run back in response to the change in Kamijou’s vital signs, the ICU bed was an empty husk. The transfusion tube and all the electrodes had been left on the bed.

Am alarm went off in the hospital security room, notifying them that an emergency door had been opened.

Upon an analysis of security camera footage, they found what looked like a young man in a surgical gown.

And they would probably find blood stuck to the doorknob.

A whirlwind of motives.

A maelstrom of circumstances.

But time was impartial.

Today always ended and tomorrow would always come.

The preparations for the massive citywide cultural festival that every school in Academy City participated in were finally complete.

And now the real thing would begin.

At last, the curtains would rise on the Ichihanaran Festival.

Biometric authentication complete.

Welcome home, Aleister.

I, Reading Thoth 78, interactive thought-support artificial intelligence, will now begin work according to the task I’ve been given.

Let us discuss the problems surrounding Fräulein Kreutune.

At present, we know little of Fräulein Kreutune’s true identity.

Based on genetic sequencing, however, we can only call her a human.

When one considers that humans and gorillas are only separated by a 2 percent difference in genome, the fact she is included in the “human” category brings us to a state of affairs that must be expressed as abnormal indeed.

In fact, it would not be surprising if her physical body’s DNA was not in double-helical form but triple helix.

In terms of which side she belongs to, Fräulein Kreutune likely falls under the category of science, but one can say she is of a different system than the supernatural Ability Development progressing in Academy City.

I mean this in the sense she is different from espers, who can bring about a variety of phenomena using quantum theory based on their personal reality.

This being does not possess a personal reality, the central pillar of that which we call the mind and the ego.

Perhaps her thought patterns are closer to an insect’s but further simplified.

As a somewhat accurate analogy, imagine constantly scanning each environmental condition: hot or cold, sweet or bitter, wet or dry. Each time you scan, choose a path optimal for bodily function. Repeating this would make you appear to be thinking deeply.

But Academy City’s esper abilities are not controlled only via the brain. They are also controlled by the entire physical body.

Fräulein Kreutune’s extremely simplified thought processes are incongruous with her highly optimized physical body. We speculate this imbalance is what gives her the normally unthinkable special trait.

(Linked to another topic. For more on the experimental results of seeing if destroying the mind of a human with normal thought processes can create the same effect, see here.)

However, there is no particular reason to continue assuming she simply has that form or property.

Instead, I surmise it is more natural to be in a constant state of change, adapting to the situation.

To adapt to a situation.

In other words, I hypothesize the most crucial concept behind Fräulein Kreutune’s aberrance is the learning that arises from her constant scanning of the surrounding environment.

The morality of the surrounding environment is not an issue for her.

If Fräulein Kreutune absorbs enough information, then her current course of action becomes immaterial, and she will likely metamorphose into something of a different form.

This combination of cohesive, simple thoughts that are even simpler than an insect’s gives her the ability to acquire complex and flexible thought patterns. That process should trigger a major change.

And it is likely this change will go beyond the being we call Fräulein Kreutune.

Perhaps that change should be called an emergence.

Just as the properties of a larva and an adult have major differences, this fundamental change in Fräulein Kreutune is capable of reversing the relationship between prey and predator.

Should the relationship between the hunter and the hunted flip, the structure of the food chain will immediately collapse, and modern civilization as it is predicated on science will likely sustain incredible damage.

Aleister has prevented Fräulein Kreutune from learning by isolating her from information.

Of this much, there is no doubt.

(Linked to another topic. For information regarding the destruction of a section of the Windowless Building’s outer wall and the airtightness that has been secured using only a beehive-shaped inner wall, see here.)

However, considering the amount of information Fräulein Kreutune can see and hear, I hypothesize she cannot acquire the vast amount of information needed to trigger a change in her nature.

It would take around 2,300 years. This value is not impossible given Fräulein Kreutune’s traits, but at present, my judgment is that this is not an imminent problem.

The problem is that modern society offers many ways of efficiently obtaining more information than you see and hear. I surmise caution is required for Academy City’s data banks, among other things.

Moreover, another extremely concerning issue has risen to the surface.

Fräulein Kreutune has made contact with Last Order, the command tower serving as the structure of the Misaka network.

If Fräulein Kreutune detects the existence of the Misaka network and attempts to use Last Order’s brain to read from it, my calculation shows she will burn through the necessary 2,300 years in just three seconds.

In addition, as Fräulein Kreutune learns from her situation to change her properties, she will, if she feels it is necessary, prey on a human being and acquire a property that allows her to replicate that person’s brain structure inside herself.

Should this change occur, I hypothesize her own personal circumstances will not be a powerful enough check against that instinctual predation.

In other words, she will voluntarily continue acquiring new properties without end.

I will be honest.

I suspect Fräulein Kreutune will acquire the functions necessary for predation and absorption within twenty-four hours and begin preying on the brains of her targets.