| “ | The Heavens call, the Earth calls, the Fans call! And heads will roll if this video doesn't sell! By accepting the power of magic, Puni Puni Poemy makes her big debut!
— Puni Puni Poemy
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Poemi Wantanabe, who frequently referrs to herself as Kobaayashi, was the adopted child of Nabeshin Watanabe and Kumikumi. After an alien with no pants used Star Platinum to kill her parents, she moves in with her friend, Futaba Aasu, and her six siblings at the Earth Defense League. She is pulled into battle as Earth's representative against the alien threat, turning into the heroine Puni Puni Poemy after accidentally biting then stabbing a rotting talking fish from the belt of a man claiming to be her biological father.
She destroys the aliens' knockoff Devil Gundam, and then goes around the world, killing corrupt politicians and turning nukes back on those who launched them. After the Aasu siblings are kidnapped by the pantsless aliens while Poemi is at a voice acting audition, the red string of fate that ties her and Futaba physically pulls her to the home of her crush, K. Said house turns into a UFO, which takes her to the aliens' knockoff Death Star. There, her crush turns out to be the alien commander, who informs her that they are invading Earth to take Japanese porn actresses. She punches him in the face, freeing Futaba in the process, and they combine their abilities to deus ex machina an ending.
Magical Girl Assassin Royale (by Leolab)[]
Prologue[]
Jiyu Nanohana closes the door to her shipping container with a clang, shutting out the raucous nighttime revels common to the newly-built Shelter District in the center of the city. Little more than a constantly-shifting inverted pyramid of small shipping containers, it was still a marked improvement over being left out in the elements. It also helped remove the stigma of homelessness, allowing Jiyu to actually get on her feet in an unfamiliar place.
She turns around and stares in horror, seeing the Lovely Eyepatch – which she had previously cast into the communal fire – hovering and shuddering before her like a vengeful ghost. Before she could scream, it flies at her and puts itself on, triggering her transformation into Jubei Yagyu.
As it finishes, she finds herself transported to somewhere else. Around the curve of a hemispherical table stood nine others, all shadowy silhouettes save for one, a young blonde girl in twintails with a black outfit on. Before she could ask anything, however, a man appears in the chair on the flat edge, face masked but clearly exhausted. He was likely a User, and judging by the look on the blonde’s face was probably someone she should know.
“I’m Leo, and you lot are in a battle,” the man says, answering both her questions, “Congrats, all but two of you are moving up in the world. You should be able to see one other person clearly here. They are your target. Every night, there will be a check-in to determine everyone’s status. Instructions for it will be implanted in your minds afterwards. You are to prevent your target from making a nightly meeting, and successfully doing so will transfer their target to you. I’ll also provide the name of your target. None of you have questions. Good.”
“Wait,” a heavily distorted voice comes from one of the silhouettes, to Leo’s clear annoyance, “What’s preventing us from just killing each other here?”
“You’re not actually here, so don’t worry about that. Dismissed.”
Ch. 1[]
An alarm clock rings, its strident buzzing filling the bedroom. The blonde under the covers stirs, having gotten little rest thanks to her extremely realistic dream. Which, given the contents of it and the city she was in, was likely not a simple dream.
“Fate-chan, could you put that off and get up,” came a voice from the bathroom, slightly muffled by the sound of the shower. Fate Testarossa yawns, pawing at the off button as she slides out of bed. It felt different than normal, but her groggy mind only registered the shower shutting off.
Fate rubs her eyes as the bathroom door opens, and an adult Nanoha Takamachi - the actual owner of the single-story home – walks out, towel wrapped around her. She turns to Fate, her smile fading to shock as their eyes meet. The towel drops, giving her wife an eyeful. It was nothing Fate hadn’t seen before, save for the height at which she saw it.
A few panicked minutes and a trip across the lawn later, a despondent Nanoha slumps over the dining table in the Riot Force 6 headquarters as Fate gets used to her younger size. She hops up onto a chair as Signum walks over, a pair of coffee mugs in hand.
“You’re taking this pretty hard, Nanoha,” she says, placing a mug in front of each of them.
“My wife is nine.”
“You’ve registered your adult forms as preferred with the Integration Center, right? So this just means she’s got a match, and you simply need to wait until it’s finished.”
“That might take a while,” Fate says, “And I can’t tell you anything else, before you suggest helping me.”
“Oh, I know!” Nanoha says, taking a sip, “I’ll ask the Integration Center to change my preferred age to Fate’s, and then…”
“Bad idea,” Signum says as she gets herself a mug, “Fate can still teach her Complex Differential Equations courses. You won’t be able to teach Practical Combat as a nine-year-old. What you can do instead is see if you can have your ages match at night”
“That’s… a good idea. Thanks, Signum,” Nanoha says.
“And when you go to the post office to mail that form, can you also send this for me?” Signum asks, handing over a small bundle of papers.
“You can’t do it yourself?” Fate asks, “Still too awkward to talk to someone who used to have a crush on you?”
“That’s not why it’s awkward. It’s awkward because I burned him to death.”
“Putting Signum’s love troubles aside, I need to head out early. Got to tell the rest of the staff why I’m nine now.”
“Wait up, Fate-chan. I’ll come with you,” Nanoha says, gulping down her coffee. The two wave and leave, looking more like parent and child than a married couple.
A dozen or so blocks down the street, Maria follows Shinji Ogawa through the DFPD’s Surveillance Division. As they pass through, she looks around at the drab, grey cubicles, listens to the clack of keyboards, and generally feels grateful she was a field agent and not an analyst. As soon as the pair had entered, they were both summoned to the office of the head of the department, Pete Wisdom. Ogawa opens the door and the pair step inside, as the overworked British man looks up and sighs.
“I expect you don’t know why you’re here.”
“I can venture a guess,” Maria says, to the surprise of both Shinji and Pete, “Leo probably told you he would veto any Kadingir usage from Ogawa-san or I and declined to say why, so you called us in for an explanation?”
“Nail on the head. So if you’d be so kind…”
“I’m entered in a battle. One where Kadingir access would make it easy, and he probably wants to even the field. Ogawa-san is included in the vetoes to stop me from working around it.”
“Fair enough, lass. Just fill out the form for an active match so we can stay out of –”
“I’m sorry, Pete, but if I tell you anything more about it, I lose.”
“You what? That’s… exactly the kind of thing the madman would cook up, actually. You want time off?”
“No. I won’t let this interfere with my job.”
“I’ll hold you to that, then. Now the two of you head to that big ol’ church in the Middle District. Word is something’s going on between that Reformed Abbey and the Wolves, and I want to know what.”
Pete presses a few buttons, sending the necessary files to their tablets. The pair nods and heads out, checking the documents as they make their way out of the station.
Meanwhile, in the upscale mansions of the 1% district, Liesel Hansel sits down at the massive dining table, large enough to seat all seven inhabitants of the house. She shovels a few mouthfuls of breakfast – piping hot rice mixed with a beaten egg – while Arata and Chris stumble in, the former chased by his step-sister trying and failing to straighten his hair. Liesel washes the bite down with a mouthful of coffee, clearing her throat.
“Hey, guys,” she says, cringing slightly as everyone turns to look at her, “I’m going to have to give up my time with Arata for a while.”
“My, grown tired of him?” Suzushiro asks, “Or are you finding our arrangement unsatisfactory?”
“No, no, I’m not tired of him at all! And I’m fine with us all sharing him, really. It’s just that I’ll need to be in my Dress at night for a while, and…”
“You what?” Lun Lun, the actual owner of the mansion, asks, aghast, “But that wasn’t supposed to be until…”
She cuts off, putting her hand over her mouth as the room’s attention is directed to her. The Princess of the Storm tilts her head to the side, seemingly listening to someone not present. Arata and the rest of the princesses wait, until she nods and continues.
“Gist of it is, she has a battle. If she tells you anything more than that, she loses. If I tell you anything more than that, she loses. Leo set this up, naturally, but last I heard this wasn’t supposed to be for another six months yet.”
“Well, since you work for him, shouldn’t we use that to our advantage?” Angela says, smiling viciously.
“No. I’m expressly forbidden from helping in any manner other than letting her stay here. Unless it’s unavoidable or in self-defense. But if he moved it up by so much, then… Ahhh, geeze. I’m skipping school today,” she grumbles, fiddling with her phone.
“What, texting your side piece?” Suzushiro asks.
“Zuko’s just a friend. Besides, his work sometimes requires getting in touch with Leo, so I’m telling him to talk to… my colleague instead. See you tonight.”
And with that, Lun Lun vanishes, leaving the breakfast table in chaos.
After school, Gin Minowa jogs through the garish gates of North University, heading towards a pair of dark-haired middle schoolers at the bus stop, one in a wheelchair and one behind. The pair were having a rather animated conversation, though broken when the girl in the wheelchair notices Gin. The girl waves energetically, while the one behind her does so more reservedly.
“Hi, Togo-san, Homura-senpai!” she shouts, reaching the pair.
“Hi Gin!” Togo says, happy to see her friend, “We were just—”
“Gushing about your pink-haired girlfriends and wondering when they’d get in the city?”
“How—”
“Do you two talk about anything else?”
“She has a point, Togo-san,” Homura says, flipping her hair dramatically, “We can get a little passionate.”
“I think ‘obsessive’ is the right word,” Gin grumbles, drowned out by the arriving bus. Homura wheels Togo to the wheelchair platform as Gin hops in through the front, making her way back to them and the girl with a red ponytail standing nearby.
“Hey Kyoko,” she says, waving to the DFederal South student chatting to Homura.
“Hey Gin,” the other girl says, waving and offering her a Pocky. She grabs one, munching on it as the red-haired girl continues, “Today’s Tuesday, so…”
“Homura and I have group therapy with Mr. Kazamatsuri. We’ll be getting off at DF General,” Togo says.
“There’s a nice café across the street. Gin and I can wait there, then we can all head back together?” Kyoko asks, grinning as Gin nods before scowling at Homura. The other girl wears a smug grin, to the confusion of Gin and Togo, and the four chat casually until they reach their stop. They get off, Homura wheeling Togo into the hospital while Gin and Kyoko cross the street into the café.
They’re lead through a maze of other pairs, a veritable rainbow of hair colors mixed with the aroma of several dozen large apple pies. The pair sits in their corner booth, a black-haired girl in a red sweater and a boy with orange hair and a t-shirt on one side, pie between them, and a group of four, two blondes, a redhead, and a brown-haired man with two pies between them. They look over the menu, not saying a word as they decide on what to get. A blue-haired waitress – in a period-accurate French maid uniform – walks up as they’re occupied.
“Hi, I’ll be your waitress today. My name is… gah, why are you here?”
“Yo, Sayaka,” Kyoko says sheepishly, “Looks good on you.”
“How’d you even know I work here?”
“Homura saw you last week.”
“That damn transfer student… one day I’ll …”
“Hey, how do I get one of those pies?” Kyoko asks
“They’re a couples’ item. So unless you and she are…”
“Nope,” Gin says, “I may be a tomboy but I think she prefers someone with blu—”
“I’ll have the Quasar Burger, an extra-large apple parfait, and the owner’s blend, please,” Kyoko says.
“And I’ll have the three-meat udon and a large strawberry shake.”
“All right,” Sayaka says, repeating their order before taking their menus and leaving, Kyoko’s eyes following her as she walks.
“You’re going to have to ask her out eventually, you know,” Gin says, barely suppressing a laugh.
“I know, I know. Just need both of us to be, well, stable first. Anyway, the reason I brought you here.”
“Now that’s a smooth subject change.”
“You’re my target.”
“Oh,” Gin says, immediately glaring, “Is this a challenge, then?”
“No, no. I want a truce.”
“You… what?”
“See, this is a two-front game,” Kyoko says, leaning in, “You’ve gotta find who you’re after, but most people forget that you’ve also gotta protect yourself from who’s after you. We truce, I can focus on defense and you can focus on your hunt.” After a few seconds of silence, she tacks on, “I’m only offering this because it’s you, you know.”
“Then… I guess we have a deal,” Gin says, nodding.
“Great! We’ll seal it with… I get a bite of your udon and you get some of my parf—ow!” Kyko says, glaring at Sayaka, who had just hit her in the back of the head before putting down their drinks.
“I don’t know what you said, but she was glaring pretty hard.”
“It was just a misunderstanding!”
“It was, really,” Gin says as Sayaka looks to her. The waitress sighs, shrugs, and goes to get their food, not bothering to apologize. The two magical girls then make small talk, waiting for their friends to get out of therapy.
Further towards the center of the city, Mia Cyrus strolls through the streets of the Lower District in baggy fatigues. She looks around the dingy shops and dives, seemingly trying to outdo each other with grime, trying to find one in particular. She spots the sign she was looking for: a handheld telescope, swinging above a wooden sign saying “Spyglass PI, Inc.”
She opens the door, revealing an office far tidier than the outside of the building. She steps in, letting the warm air from the stone fireplace wash away the February chill. She looks around, noting the fine wood paneling and several small mirrors. A tall man in a black coat swivels his chair to look at her from behind a mahogany desk, freshly-poured whiskey in a highball glass next to him.
“So,” Eizen says, flourishing a cigar and chomping it, “What can we do ya for?” The supposed pirate conjures a match, striking it alight on his gemstone bracelet. He brings it to the end of the cigar, only to be interrupted by a knife slicing the cigar off, mere inches from his face. Mia stares at the quivering blade, stuck into what closer inspection revealed as a fairly gashed corkboard, as Eizen extinguishes the match.
“Pray refrain from smoking inside,” a slenderer man in a white coat says.
“Oh come on. The wood desk, a lit cigar, a glass of whiskey… these are absolutely essential parts of being a private eye!”
“I agree in principle,” Thancred says, “but at least not those cigars. I swear, your taste in tobacco is worse than your taste in women. No easy feat, that.”
“Hey, I go for quality, not quantity. You and your dolled-up…”
The snap of a door closing drew Mia’s attention away as she looks at the improbably busty brunette carrying a tray of tea. The woman sets the tray down on a table, waving Mia over.
“I’m Jo,” she says, “Please, ignore the overgrown children, sit down, and tell me what we can help you with.”
Mia sighs, taking a seat and plopping an envelope in front of Jo. She pours herself a cup of tea and takes a gulp as the other woman opens it, looking at the seventeen photos inside. She looks on in silence, impressed as Jo swiftly sorts the jumbled photographs into eight pairs of two – one in color, one a silhouette – and one extra as Eizen breaks off his argument and stomps to Jo’s right.
“I need information on these people. Anything you can find; this is from a user directly, so I can’t say much more,” Mia says.
“That’s frustratingly vague,” Thancred says, causing Mia to jump. She hadn’t noticed Thancred to her right, “And these silhouettes… hand drawn?”
“Yes, unfortunately. The request was sudden, and I wasn’t able to see anything other than a silhouette for anyone other than this woman,” she says, pointing to the image of a woman wearing an eyepatch, “I have reason to believe they’re all magical girls, so I cross-referenced the warrior database with the silhouettes I drew and came up with these as possibilities. If I get anything more concrete, I’ll give it to you, too.”
“I appreciate that, truly,” Jo says, “But can you afford this? We charge per person investigated per day, and unless I’m mistaken you live in the shelters.”
“I’m good for it. Bounty hunting pays real nice, and I’m real good at it.”
Jo glances at Eizen and Thancred, who both nod.
“Okay, we’ll take this. I’ve got friends who can help with four of these. Eizen, grab the contract paperwork from the back before I toss your cigars. Thancred, grab a pair of them for you to tail and then go see Grayson and find out why Todd is accusing him of being a pedophile. Let me just grab a pen, Mia, then we can finalize everything.”
Mia takes another gulp of her tea as the private investigators move around her in a flurry of action. She smiles, looking at the photographs; if she played her cards right, she could be sitting in a nice mansion for not much more than a couple bounties. Bounties that she is now free to focus on.
Closer to the Reservation Shelter, in one of the many forgotten alleyways of DFederal, a weird rabbit-blob hangs suspended in the air, bound by shackles of wax. Magia Baiser smacks it a couple times with Full Star Dominazone, quickly losing interest and instead turning to the busty blonde with twin-tails caught below. Her arms are bound in the same wax as her mascot, while her eyes and mouth are blocked with squirming strips of cloth.
She runs her hand along her captive’s body, admiring it as it shivers. And not for the first time, as the girl had attacked Baiser repeatedly. And, it seems, exclusively. A Magical Girl of Justice all her own; just the thought of it was enough to get her quivering with excitement. She commands the blindfold and gag to stillness as she fetches a candle from her bag, lighting it as she brings her mouth close to the girl’s ear.
“This is made of a special kind of wax,” she says, dribbling it around the gag to secure it before moving farther down, “It melts at a low temperature, allowing us both to have fun.”
She pulls away abruptly as the girl starts to thrash, extinguishing the candle and turning on her heel. She leaves, as quietly as possible. The girl had grown a little too used to her attention; some neglect was in order.
And closer still to the center of the city, Poemi Wantanabe skips through the nighttime streets with two grocery bags, babbling to herself. She shudders in the chill February air, her whole body spasming as if each bone was trying to flee in a different direction. She continues on after the spasm passes, ignoring the perturbed looks from the other pedestrians headed to and from the shelter. She overhears a passerby grumble about how much easier it is to cool down than to warm up, mentioning dumping cool water on one’s head during the summer.
This gives Poemi an idea, and she takes out her thermos of piping-hot chicken noodle soup, fresh from one of Skully’s several soup kitchens. She unscrews the container, grinning as the scalding steam warms her face. She lifts the thermos above her head, and flips it over. She continues on, ignoring the horrified gasps around her as her skin reddens, then gradually stops hurting as it takes on a waxy, leather-like hue.
She flops to the ground, still babbling as the burns advance and deaden her nerves. She twitches and rambles as an ambulance pulls up, the tire barely missing her face. As she’s loaded onto a stretcher, the familiar faces of the medics scowling in annoyance, she spots a long, blonde ponytail in the crowd. It appeared to match Mia, her target in the battle she was fighting. Poemi sits up and yells exactly that.
A split second later, she finds herself in a cage, a masked man standing on the other side of the bars. She grabs onto the metal rods, bawling and babbling while using the bars as leverage to whip herself back and forth. Leo, annoyed, removes her mouth. And her nose, and her eyes for good measure. Muffled sounds pour from Poemi’s now featureless face unceasingly as she continues her spastic motions, occasionally hitting the bars and staining them red as he looks on in disgust. He opens his hand, summoning a palm-sized solid glass teardrop as he ends Poemi’s life.
A thin, rust-colored fluid leaks out from her still-twitching corpse, twisting against gravity to touch the glass tear. It rushes into the object, where it settles in a spiderweb-like lattice. Leo taps the glass, and the substance glows for a second. He nods, meaningless habit satisfied, and places the object inside a machine.
Jeanne slams the door to her shipping container shut, mercifully drowning the smattering of English accents around the fire. She was a few minutes away from once more venting her anger at their injustices on her homeland with her sword, but that would get her arrested again.
Instead she activates one of the gems on her bracelet, going through the steps to get to the nightly check-in. To her surprise, the girl she was originally hunting had vanished, and a blonde with a ponytail was now visible. This could only mean that…
“We’ve had our first casualty,” Leo says, appearing in his chair, “Couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Jeanne, your target has changed.”
“What was that noise?” the blonde asks, wincing.
“I just addressed someone by name. Only they can hear their name, and the rest of you hear static. I probably should have mentioned that.”
“Would have been nice, yes.”
“Okay, that’s it for tonight. Have fun.”
And with that, Jeanne shudders back to reality, gasping and shivering as if she had a fever. Exhausted, she stumbles to bed, not even bothering to remove her clothes before flinging herself atop the covers.
Ch. 2[]
Eizen leans back in a chair at a “bar,” scanning the Saturday crowd at one of DFederal’s outdoor malls. He jots down notes on the movement of one Jiyu Nanohana, sipping his whiskey on the rocks. No one here looked at him askance for day drinking; they understood, not to mention a few of them were a bottle or more deep themselves.
He puts down his pencil, tired of the tedium of shadowing the city’s most normal and unremarkable girl. Determining he’d miss nothing of importance in the next few minutes, he fishes a cigar box from his jacket. He opens it and tilts his head in confusion, the black-wrapped tobacco far different than his usual. He looks up at the lid and sighs as he sees the note taped to the top:
You’ll thank Jo for these later.
—Thancred
Eizen sighs, taking out one of the cigars as he watches Jiyu staring intently at a necklace display, and casts an extremely tiny Hell’s Gate to cut it. He lights it – noting with dissatisfaction that it was, indeed, better than his usual – as the girl’s attention flits to a rack of shirts.
Some noise draws his attention, seeing a group of IRA soldiers – clearly more than a few bottles deep – approaching a blonde woman at the bar. He flips to a new page in his notebook; Jeanne was Jo’s assignment, so he’d give her some information as thanks.
He could hardly hear, but it looked like one of the soldiers was trying to buy her a drink. Rather aggressively, until the lady draws her sword and stabs it between them.
“I’d rather drink a barrel of horse piss than a drop of your English swill,” she growls, and the establishment goes dead silent.
“We’re Irish, lassie,” the man says, as if the thick accent wouldn’t have given it away, “Not English. We know how to brew the real good stuff, would put hair on even your chest.”
“English, Irish… the lot of you are just Limey dogs,” she says, spitting in the man’s face and drawing her sword free of the ground, “I’ll gladly avenge the injustices your countrymen put upon mine.”
“Looks like she’s spoiling for a fight, lads,” the man calls, reaching for his waistband only to be stopped by one of his other men, who whispers in his ear. “All right, Jack. Knives it is, boys,” the man says.
Jeanne growls and hefts her sword, snatching the shield beside her into a combat stance. Her stance falters slightly as she sees five men before her, combat knives drawn, and more slighted Irishmen rising from their seats. Realizing how badly she was outnumbered, she does the only smart thing to do.
She turns and runs.
As the Irishmen chase after her, Eizen knocks back the rest of his whiskey, spotting Jiyu moving out of the mall. He gets up, pays for his drink, and exits to follow her.
On the other end of the L-shaped mall, Gin looks around at the cacophony of vendors clamoring for attention. A majority were for food and drink, as there were few other wants in the city, though an occasional clothier or electronics stall dotted the stands. The friend she’s strolling with, Kyoko, merrily chews on a samosa as she tries to decide where to go next.
Gin spots a small commotion, with a familiar-looking blonde bob running around a corner and then into an alleyway. A group of soldiers thunders around the corner, looking furious. As they berate the man in front – apparently named Jack – for losing their quarry, Gin pulls on Kyoko’s sleeve, pointing at another alley.
“Found your prey, huh? Good luck, and guess you won’t be needing that yakisoba,” Kyoko says.
“You take one bite out of it and I’ll tell Sayaka you stole her –”
“Okay, okay, I was joking, sheesh. Off with you.”
“I wasn’t!” Gin says as she trots off. Joke or not, she feels far less tense than she would have on her own. She takes out her phone, pressing a button on its screen as she ducks out of sight of the crowd. She jumps, landing lightly on the roof of a building. A quick glance shows her quarry deeper inside, in an isolated alleyway. She notes the gleaming, bejeweled armlet and ignites her axes. The hero leaps forward, slicing through the air.
Jeanne’s Adroit allows her to notice the attack just fast enough to react, blocking Gin’s strike with her shield. The Frenchwoman shoves her foe back, only to be met with another strike, caught on her sword. The peal of metal on metal fills the area as Gin rains down strike after burning strike on her foe, gouging her shield and nearly forcing her to drop her weapon.
Jeanne uses Heaven’s Gate, and a massive sword erupts from the ground underneath her foe. Gin, still in the air thanks to the force of her attacks, twists out of the way, slashing at her foe. Jeanne catches the blade on her shield and allows the force to push her back slightly. Gin lands on one leg, the other still moving, and Jeanne takes advantage of the distance to bring her sword down overhead.
Gin rides her momentum, her other foot landing on the wall. She uses it to rotate, one axe knocking the sword back while the other intercepts Jeanne’s attempt to cast Ice Bullet. As the shattered icicle sizzles and sublimates, Gin kicks off the wall and swipes with one of her axes. Jeanne catches the high blow on her shield as the younger girl slashes to her foot, which is in turn stopped by her sword. Undaunted, Gin sweeps her leg around and kicks Jeanne in the back of the knee.
The Frenchwoman falls into Gin’s follow-up headbutt, which sends her sprawling. She rolls out of the way of an axe, which slams through the concrete where she just was. Gin uses that as leverage to launch another overhead strike, which Jeanne leaps further back from. She tosses her battered shield aside, raising her sword in front of her.
“I will bear all your pain!” she declares.
“I don’t think you can,” Gin says, charging back in as her foe’s armor and sword change, turning red and black.
Jeanne slashes the air in front of her, and Gin instinctively puts her axes up to block as an orb of light flashes, a brighter slash tracing the path of Jeanne’s blade. The powerful blow from Grieving Goddess knocks her back, and Jeanne finally seizes the chance to attack. Her stab is quickly knocked aside as Gin reclaims momentum, slamming her axe into Jeanne’s newly-materialized helmet.
Against her will, Jeanne stabs forward again, grimacing under her helmet as Gin once again bats it aside and strikes her on the helmet, cracking it. Of all times for Three Rounds to activate, this had to be the worst. She takes another stab, which is again batted aside and countered. This time, Gin’s axe breaks the helmet, continuing through to split her head in two. Jeanne falls, killed instantly, as Gin shakily dismisses her weapons.
She jumps up, landing on a roof and making her way back to the alleyway she had entered from. A quick tap on her phone later and she was back in her civilian attire, making her way back to her red-haired friend. Kyoko gives her a friendly wave, which she returns.
“Well?” Kyoko asks, to which Gin simply nods. “Here. Your yakisoba and a candied apple, on me.”
“Thanks, Kyoko!” Gin says, digging in to her food as the crowd bustles past, ignoring the sirens wailing past as someone discovered Jeanne’s body.
Mia relaxes in a café, sipping some hot chocolate across from Josephine March, who slides a file across the table to her. Mia smiles and opens it, noting Jiyu Nanohana’s picture on the inside. She closes it, stowing it in her bag to read later.
“That’s all the information we’ve been able to find on Jiyu,” Jo says, “I’m afraid it might not be much, since she’s… exceedingly normal.”
“Thank you,” Mia says, straining to be heard over the truck with a loudspeaker across the street, “Even this much is a lot more than I had. Though could you have chosen some place quieter?”
“Sorry, I’m multitasking here,” Jo says, nodding towards the truck, “Give it a listen for a sec.”
“And when ol’ Dicky’s not cheating on Oracle with… not you, Futaba, don’t worry. But be careful, you’re his type. Anyway, when he’s not cheating on Oracle with his rapist he’s got his paws on…”
“Yeah. Dick Grayson – and most of the Bat Family – are asking us to figure out what the hell Jason’s on about.”
“I’m guessing this is why he’s been retreating to the back when Eizen or Thancred walk in?”
“Probably, yeah,” Jo says, sighing, “I’m starting to think we may need to break in if we want answers, though.”
“I might be able to help with that. Send you a signal when he’s at the bar; we get along so I can keep him talking.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to…”
“I’m offering a personal favor.”
“In that case, I greatly appreciate it.”
“And could you repay that by answering a personal question?”
“If you’re trying to ask me on a date, I’m straight.”
“Shame, but that’s not what I’m asking about. I see Thancred and Eizen out a lot at night, but never you.”
“Ah, that. I’m a student, so I’ve got to study some time. Besides, Eizen’s better at getting information from bars and the like, while Thancred… once told me he has a PhD in espionage. They fit a little better into the nightlife here than I do.”
“Yeah… yeah, I can see that. Thanks; I’ll text Eizen when I can catch Jason.”
Mia puts down her drink, waving to the waiter for the check.
Thancred spots the thin Italian he was tailing sneak into the reservation shelters, not quite stealthily enough. He jots down the occurrence in his notebook, the third time this week the man did so, and stows it in his coat. His quarry was clearly meeting someone here, but who and why was still a mystery. He contemplates going in himself to do some old-fashioned detective work and see if it was innocuous or if the girlfriend was right about infidelity.
Thancred sighs and turns around. That carries too much risk, and if he gives this to Jo the woman would use her staggering network of friends to get to the bottom of it in minutes. He trudges back, passing the massive lot cleared out of the poorest sections of the Lower District for the currently under construction prison. Rather than have it appear out of thin air, this was given to one of the few construction firms to create some much-needed jobs.
He spots a black orb appearing in the corner of his eyes, which quickly disappears to reveal three people, two standing in front of a section of half-finished fence with the third sitting on top of it. He then ducks behind some construction equipment, straining his ears to lsiten. He didn’t recognize the large man in black armor with an axe or the girl in a school uniform with a cello case, but the child in a mouse-eared hoodie between them, Parcel, was known to work closely with Saturos, making it likely she worked with Leo, and there was a huge market for that kind of info.
“I’m glad our shifts are together and in the same place,” Ayaka says cheerily, “It’s been ages since the three of us could get together.”
“Yeah, none of our schedules matched for a while,” Haar says, yawning, “but how did you get put here?”
“Well, Uncle Cervy wants our employment agency to be part of the official city ones. So I got sent here to show the city we’re trustworthy. I’m more surprised you’re here, Haar.”
“Someone at the post office remembered I came third in Tarot. When they were pulling people to guard the site, I was chosen because of that.”
“Despite sleeping through it,” Parcel says, grinning, “And for my part, we can’t really ignore this. I think some strings were pulled to put us in a group, though.”
“One day you’ll tell me who this mysterious ‘we’ of yours includes,” Haar says, leaning against the fence.
“Well, I’d rather know why people are attacking the place,” Ayaka says, “It’s sponsored by Beast, so it’s going to happen. This way it at least gets built by us.”
In lieu of an answer, Haar points at the wall across from them, drawing the four’s attention to the words painted upon it, glistening red in the sunset:
“WE ARE WARRIORS, NOT WHORE-KILLERS”
“Jail used to be for the lowest of the low. Your Jack the Rippers or Sun Tzus, people whose only achievements can barely be called ‘fighting.’ The city’s criminals are understandably resentful that they’re being treated the same,” Parcel says.
“They’ll need to find some other way to separate them. Maybe toss the Sun Tzu types in a… a gibbet, I think it’s called? … What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Ayaka says
“You’re the last person I’d expect to suggest a gibbet.”
“Maybe ‘Uncle Cervy’ is a bad influence?” Haar says, hefting his axe.
As the three’s conversation turns to small talk, Thancred straightens and takes a step to the side. He waves to the concealed sniper on the roof, and points where he was just standing, pantomiming a phone call. Echo shifts her scope slightly to the left, and sure enough there was a phone number scrawled on the side of the road roller. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s audacity as he strolled away, leaving the guards to their job.
Around the same time, much farther into the city’s outskirts, Liesel lets out a heavy sigh as she exits the supermarket, cart full of groceries. Arata had to take supplementary lessons, while the rest of the girls were at their jobs. Excepting Suzushiro, but she knew better than to ask that one for assistance. She resigns herself to having to call a cab when a voice calls out to her.
“Hey, need any help?”
“Very much, yes,” Liesel says, turning to the pink-haired woman, “And you are?”
“Name’s Marie,” Maria lies, “I live with a friend around here. She’ll understand if I’m late helping someone, so here, give me some of those.”
Liesel apologizes as they distribute the load between them, and the two girls walk down the street. They make small talk for a while, generally getting along.
“Hey, thanks for this,” Liesel says as the pair turns into one of the many so-called “alleyways,” though they were wide and maintained enough to be parks, in the district. It was deserted, as usual, with only the carefully-cultivated trees giving it any sign of life.
“Well, this isn’t entirely altruistic,” Maria says, “I do get something from this.”
“Something from carrying groceries?”
“Well, yes. It helps with a job.”
Liesel stiffens, a hardness in the other girl’s tone. It was subtle, and she would have missed the danger entirely were she not already on edge. As it is, she checks one of the safety mirrors around the park and dives, seeing a flash of steel in Maria’s hands. She whips out her tiara as she rolls and lands, materializing her Dress in a flash.
“Selin coffin airgetlam tron,” Maria chants, her clothes replaced by armor, colored in grey, blue, and pink hues. She tosses her knife aside as she begins to sing, instead pulling a dagger from the armor on her wrist in a reverse grip.
“You know, even if you escape I’ll take this to the police…”
“By all means, turn yourself in. Those cell phone drones of yours are quite ingenious stalking tools.”
Liesel grimaces and leaps back, summoning Valfiche to her hand and taking to the sky while shooting a barrage of missiles from her skirt. Maria continues her song, nimbly sliding around the explosions as she flips her dagger and swings her arm, the blade extending like a whip. It wraps around Liesel’s waist, and Maria throws the princess to the side. She slams into the ground, firing out a pair of cannonballs as she rolls to keep her foe away.
Maria simply blocks these with a triangular panel, manifesting numerous daggers and launching them at the recovering Liesel. The Princess of Steel fires several dozen missiles from under her skirt as she takes to the air again, dodging the blades. Maria deflects the few missiles that would hit, letting the rest of the wild barrage land around her as she raises her whip-blade once again.
This proves to be the wrong decision, as several missiles burst into bundles of thread. Maria slashes at them in a momentary panic, but they bind her, limbs and all, before she can cut more than a few. Liesel hovers in the air as the head of her hammer separates slightly, emphasizing the crackling red sphere in the center. She hoists it above her head, the growing density of it warping the air. Maria was trapped and helpless, waiting for the hammer to crush her.
“I’d rather not hear any recriminations about ‘pride as a princess’ or ‘fair play,’” the Princess of Steel growls, looking at her foe, “If you act as a predator, you should be ready to become the prey.”
“Oh, you’ll be getting no lecture from me,” Maria says, giving a fearless smile as she snakes her whip behind her, slicing carefully at the strings binding her, “I understand completely. You see, I’m rather weak, too,” she continues while Liesel gives her a flabbergasted stare, “You win how you can, right?”
At that, the threads snap. Liesel gasps, diving in early as Maria creates a circle of daggers under the princess. They spin rapidly, creating a cyclone and knocking Liesel out of the air and away from her hammer, which slams through the reinforced concrete. She rolls to her feet as Maria charges in, the singer aiming a stab at her opponent’s chest. Liesel changes part of her Dress into an steel shield, catching the stab, and manipulating it further to wrap around her foe’s arm. The princess smirks, creating a cannonball under her skirt.
“Caught yo –”
Maria kicks her in the face, sending stumbling back and gasping. Concentration lost, the shield unravels as the Princess of Steel spits blood and shards of teeth into the grass. Maria raises her dagger, only to slice twice at the air, splitting the pair of water bullets in half.
“I dunno what he expects,” the blonde, twintailed new arrival says, spinning her squirt gun, “but Liliana Guenther, Princess of the Storm, isn’t about to stand by and watch a friend die. Call! Hard Rain!”
Maria looks at her warily as it starts to drizzle. She sticks her palm out, confirming that it was indeed raining, and gives Twinkle Fortune a sharp look before backflipping out of the still-empty park. Lun Lun helps Liesel up, a complicated look on her face.
“Thank you, Lun Lun,” Liesel says, “Though what’s the look for?”
“Nothing you did,” Lun Lun says, “Just that it’s nice for someone to finally realize Call Hard Rain is dangerous, but she went and dipped before we could fight.”
Ch. 3[]
Liesel rubs the sleep from her eyes as she sits down to breakfast, across from Liliana. The Princess of the Storm wears a strained expression, clearly annoyed at something.
“Hey, Lun Lun, thank you for helping me yesterday,” Liesel says nervously.
“Yeah, about that,” she replies, “Leo got kinda mad.”
“I’m sorry. Because of me, you…”
“No, no, don’t worry about that. I’m just not allowed to leave headquarters until the match is done. Starting today.”
“And today was supposed to be your turn with Arata,” Suzushiro adds, never missing an opportunity to needle.
“I know. And he knows. Agh, why couldn’t you have been attacked tomorrow?”
“That’s just unreasonable!” Liesel says.
“This whole thing is unreasonable! I shouldn’t be penalized for helping a friend, that… Ugh. Bye,” Liliana says, vanishing as she teleports to the DFSB.
In the reservation shelter, Utena Hiiragi rolls out of bed sluggishly, awake early on a Sunday and not nearly excited about it. There wasn’t any magical girl programming on the tv for her to record, nor was the prospect of playing with Erena interesting any more; the girl lost far too easily, and the tentacle session last night was far from enough to satisfy her.
“Guess it’s time to take that battle thing seriously,” she mutters sleepily pouring milk into her cereal. The red-haired girl she was hunting seems to be similar to Sulfur, which restores some of her good mood. She eats as she looks through the mail delivered to her shipping container last night. After discarding an Ice-T Puppy Inc. flyer for a new crepe store – with the inane tagline “They’re not pancakes!” – her eyes settle on the mental health circular.
Apparently severely traumatized magical girls were common enough in the city that they were giving group therapy sessions. She smiles as she drinks her coffee, looking at the times. She may not need this, but if they’re sending around fliers then odds were her target would. One was this afternoon, the other tomorrow evening.
She hurriedly gets ready, looking at her star for a few seconds before stowing it in a drawer. It wouldn’t do if she saw a girl cute enough to excite her and blow her cover.
Mimori Togo sets her knife down, having chopped the ingredients for some miso soup. She stretches and yawns, before hearing the front door open. She wheels herself around the counter, momentarily missing Yuna’s hand on the back of her wheelchair, as it closes. She smells the outside air and hears a pair of shoes being taken off as she reaches the entryway, smiling at the newly-returned Gin.
The younger girl drops her bag, looking grave, and strides over to sweep the older girl in a tight, nearly crushing hug.
“Gin, what…”
“I took your advice. Looked up the person I’m fighting in the database.”
“Okay…”
“I also looked at my information. And yours.”
“Oh, Gin, I…”
“I’m sorry for dying on you and Sonoko. I’m not angry that you forgot.”
Togo is stunned into silence, and feels drops falling on her back. She returns Gin’s hug, and starts bawling into her friend’s shoulder.
The two girls stay like that for some time.
Across town, Jiyu Nanohana pedals her bike through the streets of DFederal, ignoring everything around her. Sure, she was entered in a royale, but it was unlikely for her to be actually attacked. Not only did she keep her head down, she never transformed, which changes her appearance enough that no one would recognize her now. She hears a commotion in the street nearby, and chooses to duck into an alleyway instead to wait it out. Whatever was happening wasn’t her problem; all she wanted to do was live an ordinary life.
Across the street, where Jiyu had come from, Mia Cyrus lies prone, staring through a scope into the upper levels of Philips Enterprise Banks, which hang over an alleyway. She grimaces as an old man in cowboy hat, one of the few remaining robbers alive, stands in the hallway with a hostage. His face kept weaving in and out of view, frequently overlapping with the curly-haired teller with a vintage revolver at her temple.
Not helping things was the the blonde in a blue dress standing in front of them, invisible sword in hand. The woman had already ruined a few perfect shots as the man was chased by the DFPD and some of their more hands-on bounty hunters. Mia grimaces, the situation growing tense, and spots a structural pillar under the overhanging part. She channels some extra magic into her HK416S, her transformed Magical Derringer, and pulls the trigger, demolishing the pillar.
As the overhang tilts, the hostage-taker stumbles. Mia fries, drilling a neat hole between the man’s eyes while his blood and brains are ejected through the new gaping crater in the back of his skull. A split second later, the building flashes gold as the blonde grabs the teller, jumping through the window of the collapsing overhang and off a building to land in front of the bank. The knight sighs, letting the blushing hostage down from the picture-perfect princess carry, drawing cheers from the onlookers. Mia transforms her gun back to her derringer and leaves as stealthily as she can.
No one notices the broken bicycle and puddle of red under the rubble, too distracted by the rest of the commotion.
Maria walks down the street, smiling with shopping bags in her hand. Unlike the last time, her friends and housemates – Shinji Ogawa and Hibiki Tachibana – walk beside her, hands also full with groceries. Hibiki’s stomach growls, causing her to blush, Maria to giggle, and Ogawa to smile awkwardly.
“I’m excited for Ogawa-san’s turn to cook, too,” Maria says, “He mentioned something about a new recipe he’d been wanting to try.”
“Yes, but it is new, so don’t expect too much.”
“Hey, I feel bad about having you two doing all the cooking,” Hibiki says, “Maybe I could—”
“No.” Ogawa and Maria say in unison.
“Sorry, Hibiki, but ten bowls of rice is not a dinner,” Maria says, “Besides, you’re letting us stay in your mansion. We should help out.”
“That house is way, WAY, too big for me,” Hibiki says, “And who’s that in front of the door? Should we invite her for dinner?” she asks, nodding towards the blonde girl in twintails standing in front of their mansion. Fate turns and notices them, before touching a gem on her glove and muttering. Her clothes shift in an instant to what looks like a leotard, skirt, and cape, holding a black polearm.
“Selin coffin airgetlam tron,” Maria says, putting the bags down as she shifts into her Symphogear, “I’ll be right back.”
She dashes forward, chasing Fate as she leaps over a building into one of the many parks in the district, leaving behind a confused Hibiki and an amused Ogawa. The ninja sighs and fishes his key from his pocket, unlocking the mansion.
“Let’s get these inside and I’ll start cooking.”
“Shouldn’t we help her?”
“Normally, yes, but I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.”
Inside the park, Maria slides under a lance of light and parries a strike from Bardice with an energy shield, slipping around to strike at Fate. The girl dashes back with Sonic Move and fires off a barrage of magic. Maria transforms her dagger into a whip, intercepting each blast. She takes a half- step back, dodging a slash from Fate – whose weapon had changed to an energy scythe – and then finishes it as the girl vanishes to avoid being impaled by her own whip.
The whip collapses back into a dagger as she parries upward, blocking a downward strike from Fate. The younger girl pushes off the blade, flying out of range of a punch, and backflips through the air as she launches the blade of her scythe. Maria, still singing strong, bats the energy blade aside and leaps into the air, dodging a Plasma Lancer shot.
She creates an energy shield in midair, kicking off it to launch herself out of the path of another shot. She does it again, and again, and yet again, speeding through the air in a dizzying pattern as she dodges and intercepts shot after shot. The silver streak launches above Fate and kicks off another energy shield, flying down to stab through her foe.
The dagger collides with a magic shield, still delivering enough force to knock the younger girl from the sky. Maria follows, sending a rain of daggers ahead of her as she plummets, taking gouges out of the ground. The daggers pull themselves out and rotate, creating a whirlwind to slow her fall as she turns to glare at her foe. Fate turns to the side as an orb of lightning appears in front of her, and Maria slams her dagger into her gauntlet, taking a railgun-like form with blades of energy coming out the back. The two level their fists.
“Plasma…” “Horizon…”
They punch forward, in unison.
“Smasher!” “Cannon!”
The two massive beams, one silver and one yellow, collide in midair. The air hisses and crackles as they try to push the other aside, to no avail. They thin and dissipate, leaving behind molten stone and a vacuum. Fate takes advantage of this, charging in to strike with her scythe. Maria, anticipating the move, has already ducked and has spun her bladed whip in a circle, repelling the scythe and slicing the bridge of Fate’s nose. The younger mage halts and jumps back just in time as Maria rises back into a fighting stance.
“Not going the way you expected?” she asks, tauntingly.
“No, befriending you hasn’t gone the way I thought.”
“Wait, hold on, befriending?”
“Yeah. This is how you make friends, right? You start off hostile, fight intensely, then come to an understanding. Right?”
“No!”
“Oh… but this works so well for Nanoha…”
Maria sighs and relaxes her stance, dismissing her Symphogear. If that dejected, crushed expression was faked, the girl deserves the kill. Fate also transforms back into her normal clothes as Maria walks up to her. The older girl kneels down and pats the younger on the shoulder.
“Look, the first thing to do is introduce yourself.”
“I’m Fate Testarossa. I teach Complex Differential Equations at DFederal East.”
“And I’m Maria Cadenzavna Eve. I’m a member of the DFPD.”
“I know. You’re my target. After investigating you I thought we could have a truce.”
“And we can. There, see. Friends. And much easier.”
“Yeah.” Fate nods, and her stomach growls. The younger girl turns red in embarrassment, while Maria smiles at her.
“Well, my housemates are about to make dinner. We can seal this over food?”
“Yes! Thank you,” Fate says, smiling more like a girl her age.
The pair treks across the park, returning to Hibiki’s mansion in tired and hungry, but friendly, silence. Maria unlocks the door, and the two step in, removing their shoes as the smell of freshly-cooked pork, garlic, and ginger whets their appetite. Two sets of footsteps crash towards the door as Hibiki and Ogawa pop out, the latter holding a medical kit.
“Maria! You’re back!” Hibiki says, glomping her.
“And our ‘guest’ is with you?” Ogawa asks, taping some gauze over Fate’s nose wound.
“Yes. That was her way of trying to be friends with me,” Maria says, prying Hibiki off.
“What?” Ogawa asks, giving a rare look of absolute confusion.
“Something about coming to an understanding after having fought a bunch.”
“Oh!” Hibiki says, “Just like us!”
Maria buries her face in her palm, avoiding Fate’s accusingly triumphant stare.
Ch. 4[]
Fate’s hands, far smaller than usual, curl around the chalk, which taps rhythmically at the blackboard, which is, proportionally, far larger than usual. The college students she stands in front of, who got used to the new nine-year-old appearance of their professor a little too quickly, scribbled down notes as she finishes writing an equation on the blackboard:
“And this is probably the most famous and simplest exception to Cauchy’s Integral Theorem. Now I’ve spent all class talking about why this would normally be zero. Can anyone tell me why it’s not?” she says, scanning the room for raised hands, “Jo?” she continues, pointing at the only one.
“The solution to that derivative is , which is a unit cir… imaginary unit circle,” Josephine March answers, “Cauchy’s theorem doesn’t apply when there’s a ‘hole’ in the geometry described by the integral.”
“Good, that’s correct,” Fate says, smiling, “Now I’ll post the reading for next lecture online, because the bell will ring about now.”
The chime sounds as she finishes, and the tense concentration of learning students pops like a pricked bubble. The buzz of conversation fizzes through the room as the students pack up to leave. Fate turns and erases the blackboard, making sure it’s clean for the next class when she hears footsteps behind her. She tenses slightly, relaxing when she remembers there’s still a bunch of people around.
“Hey, Fate, I had a couple questions about the lecture,” Jo says.
“Sure, though you seem to have understood it well.”
“Once Lun Lun’s work thing gets over I’ll have to teach her, so I’d like to ask questions regarding that.”
“I’d be happy to,” Fate says, tossing her an eraser, “Help me get the high parts and we can talk it over in the cafeteria.”
Jo helps as asked, and the pair commandeer a table in the cafeteria to spread out their books and notes. The two talk math, describing the inner workings of universes both real and imaginary in deceptively simple functions. Their conversation draws wary looks from the university’s Liberal Arts students, who could only see this as chanting arcane curses, though they did their best to ignore that. As Jo grows more secure in her knowledge, the conversation turns to more mundane topics.
“You adjusting to being nine okay?” Jo asks, a very mundane question for DFederal.
“Mostly, yes. I need to remember to thank my classes for not making a big deal of it.”
“Hey, this is DFederal East. After the whole flower zombie thing and the spate of assassinations a few years ago, I think we can take most things in stride.”
“If anything, the problem is…”
“Nanoha?”
“Yes,” Fate sighs, “If even you know about that, then…”
“We had to ask Kabutomushi has had to step in as a substitute instructor a couple times when she got a little too into it.”
“Really, that… She even offered to sub for me until this change blows over.”
“She can?”
“Thought she was just a meathead with raw power, did you?” Fate asks, chuckling, “Well, our magic system is really just applied math. We may need our Devices to lessen the strain,” she says, tapping the yellow jewel on her glove, “but anyone who can use Midchildan magic is really good at math.”
“A math-based magic system. That’s one I haven’t heard of,” Jo says.
“I’d be happy to talk to you about it another time,” Fate says, putting her things away, “Nanoha’s here to pick me up.”
Jo looks back, seeing an orange ponytail moving briskly – and somewhat jealously – towards them. Fate gathers her materials, tossing them somewhat haphazardly into her bag before hopping off the seat, much too high for a nine-year-old, and heads towards her wife. Jo waves to the pair, looking more like mother and child than a married couple, and slides the recording device out from her sleeve, shutting it off and jotting down everything she could remember about their conversation in a separate notebook.
A few blocks away, Mami Tomoe looks up to a knock at the door, having just set out slices of cake for three. She smiles as she gets up, opening the door. Kyoko waves and walks in, followed by a nervous younger girl with brown hair. Back in Japan, Gin would be a sixth-year elementary student, but this place seems to follow the American system. That put Mami as a freshman in high school, while Gin was in her first year of middle school.
“Hi, Gin,” she says, “I’ve heard a bit about you from Kyoko.”
“Hello, Mami-senpai,” Gin says, holding out a bag, “I think you’re the only one of your group I haven’t met, so I brought some botamochi.”
“Botamochi?”
“I was going to get cookies, but Togo insisted.”
“Togo… you’re friends with Akemi-san, then?”
“Yes…”
“I see. Sit down, I’ll get some tea ready,” Mami says, heading to the kitchen.
“Homura made a few too many ‘lose your head’ jokes, so Mami’s a little upset with her,” Kyoko whispers to Gin, “I’ll be doing most of the talking, anyway.”
The smell of freshly brewed tea wafts out of the kitchen, soon followed by Mami. Her blonde drills bob as she elegantly pours the tea for the three of them and sets the botamochi out in the center of the table. Gin gratefully takes the cup, sipping it in silence and taking a bite of the mildly sweet cake.
“So,” Mami says, “What did you need advice about?”
“She’s in a battle,” Kyoko says, “And…”
“Can I hear this from her? I might be able to give better advice that way.”
“I’m not actually allowed to tell you,” Gin says, “Kyoko can, because we’re using a loophole.”
“That’s a little confusing, but all right.”
“I’ll stay vague, too, since I’m not sure the limits on this,” Kyoko says, “So in short, Gin’s up against a magical girl with magic guns.”
“I see. And you want advice from me about how that kind of thing works?” Mami asks, and the pair nods, “I do think Akemi-san might be better, since she’s fought me and all, but…”
“I’d rather get actual advice. Homura-senpai would probably troll me,” Gin says, “Especially since we need to be roundabout about it.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to think I liked her better aloof and hostile,” Mami sighs, “But about magical guns, well…”
The veteran magical girl talks as Gin listens attentively, scribbling down notes every once in a while, while Kyoko chimes in with information that helps to guide Mami’s lecture. The trio talk for a few hours, unaware that Eizen had a telescope pointed at them from the apartment building across the street.
Afterwards, Kyoko yawns and stretches as she walks away from Mami’s house in the Lower District. Gin was on her way to pick Togo up from somewhere, so it was best to make herself scarce. The six of them were nominally friends, but it was clear Togo didn’t approve of how well Gin and Kyoko got along, Mami’s disposition towards Togo was volatile at best, and Homura’s relentless trolling of all involved was far from helpful.
She gets on the bus home, eyes glazing over and putting herself on autopilot. Barely aware of what’s going on around her, she gets off at her stop and traces the familiar path to her studio apartment, grumbling in dissatisfaction at losing the home formerly neighboring Sayaka’s. Her fugue snaps as she notices her mailbox open, and she transforms, bringing her spear out.
“Nice reaction,” Magia Baiser whispers in her ear, before dodging a stab and retreating into an alleyway. Kyoko follows and cuts down a pile of trash that tried to latch onto her face. She separates her spear into segments, warding of a blow from her foe with the blunt end while sending the point at Baiser’s face.
She leans backward under it, tapping a rotting section of rope with her weapon. It comes to life and launches itself at Kyoko, as Baiser recovers, only to be cut down as it tries to bind her. A lightbulb grows to an enormous size, sprouting jaws as it launches itself at Kyoko, only to be blocked by a lattice of red diamonds, shattering.
“Come on, you can’t beat me by being indirect,” Kyoko says, dispelling the barrier as she charges.
“Well, I do like BDSM, and my Schiavos are based on my imagination,[1]” Baiser says, firing off a couple projectiles from her riding crop, “But if you insist…”
She swipes her riding crop, and as her foe intercepts it the riding crop extends and bends, lasing around the haft of the spear to hit her foe in the leg. She feels the bone crack, driving Kyoko to the floor. Baiser winces, the spear having sliced her arm, and takes a few steps back. Kyoko gets to her feet, the bone fixing itself.
“Ah, you’re durable. Nice, nice, nice, nice,” Baiser says, smiling, “this is how a magical girl of justice should be.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll leave the ‘justice’ bits to the other girls.”
“And I think we’ll stop here for today. Ta ta,” Baiser says, turning around and jumping away. Her momentum stops, a spearhead slamming through her chest.
“You’re not the only one who can extend their weapon,” Kyoko says, smirking.
That night, Liesel Hansel leans against a wall in one of the many out-of-the-way corners in the wealthiest district of DFederal. This district suited her purposes better than the inner city; while it was more difficult to notice one weird person in the menagerie, there was always the chance someone would see. And start asking questions she couldn’t answer.
Surrounding her was a swarm of flip phones, suspended in the air by the attached propellers. A series of beeps sounds from each, making noise as they transferred massive quantities of information to the device in her hand. Its screen lights up, showing a rendered model of the city. Maroon pins pop onto the screen without fanfare.
Points become lines, tracing the routes of the girl her drones had been following for the past couple day. Liesel gives a vicious smile, feeling confident now that she has more information. She peers at the screen and taps it, marking possible ambush sites for the drones to scout next as the points continue appearing. The girl is so engrossed in her task she doesn’t notice the projectile flying at her until it hits one of her phones.
She screams in surprise as the object explodes in a burst of light, causing all her drones and her device to sizzle and spark. Turning to look at the shadow in her peripheral vision, she sees a man in a dark grey suit with an eared cowl before a black-gloved fist slams into her stomach. She gasps in pain as a cloud of chemicals sprays from the man’s other glove, knocking her out in seconds.
Batman kneels and summons his Batmobile, quickly putting cuffs on Liesel and gathering the phones in an evidence bag. When it arrives, he gently the girl in the back seat, covering her with a tarp, before tossing the evidence and her schoolbag into the trunk. Had he come across a man assaulting and kidnapping a young girl, Bruce would have condemned the theoretical man as a villain instantly. But he was Batman, and Batman was never wrong.
And not equipped to notice the white-haired man in a white coat, watching the entire thing. Thancred dispels Souldeep Invisibility, staggering as the life-sustaining aether begins to flow through his body once again. He fumbles a second with his phone, calling both Eizen and Jo.
“This is Thancred. I think we have a problem.”
A few minutes earlier, Mia waved to the muscle-bound idiot in a cowboy hat playing bouncer as she walks into the Iceberg Lounge. She maneuvers around the restaurant tables, wincing slightly at the performance of the live “entertainment” as she makes her way towards the bar, tapping on her phone. She waves to Velvet, sharing a table with her girlfriend, as she slides between the restaurant’s owner and a man with a large bear pelt on his back. She beckons the new bartender, a sickly-looking man with a spiky black mask covering his mouth, over.
“Just cashed in bounties on Cobblepot and Freeze. Get me something warm.”
“Irremissible…” the bartender, Volk as his nametag reads, mutters as he mixes some melted chocolate off the stove with steaming Irish cream, garnishing it with toasted marshmallows and placing it in front of her.
“That’s on the house today,” Jason says, “Penguin and Freeze have been trying to ice me for a while. Ugh, they even have me doing it.”
Volk nods and mutters as he turns to another patron. Mia takes a sip of her drink, looking warily at the bartender. She closes her eyes and simply breathes, letting the hot chocolate and the alcohol flood her body with much-needed warmth. Another low growl from Volk as he mixes more drinks brings her back, prompting another sip from the mug.
“You’re wondering why I hired him, aren’t you?” Jason asks, smiling as Mia nods, “Well, he keeps people coming back. Works as an attraction.”
“Thought you provided enough angry brooding for the teenage girls, Jaybird,” she says, drawing a laugh from Trevor. The vampire hunter laughs harder as Jason glares at the pair, before sighing and continuing.
“He’s not quite handsome enough for that,” Jason says, running a hand through his hair, “But he somehow makes the alcohol work better.”
“Bullshit, Jaybird,” Trevor chimes in, “I know my alcohol, and…”
“And you just called me ‘Jaybird’ after two beers. It usually takes you eight to forget both that I hate being called that and that I have an itchy trigger finger.”
“Point taken, Hood. But no matter how drunk I get, I always remember that you hate the name,” Trevor says, chuckling into his mug as Jason’s eyes flick onto the mirror above the bar.
“Well, you’re very lucky I just remembered some extremely important uh… manager stuff I have to do,” he says, getting up before ghostly chains wrap around him and slam him back into his seat. Mia looks behind them, nodding to Eizen as the pirate strides up to them, holding out a file.
“Not here for a drink tonight, Volk. Mia, here’s the file you asked for last time. Now, Jaybird. We need to—” he cuts off as his phone rings, and – after a couple tries – he successfully brings it to his ear. “Thancred, I’m kind of… what happened? … Okay, I’ll be right there,” he says, ending the call.
“So, gonna free me or do I need to Houdini my ass out of this?”
“Oh, I’ll let you out. You’re going to want to come with me, anyway,” Eizen says, dispelling the bindings.
“Why?”
“Do you wanna punch the goddamned Batman as he gets led away by the DFPD?”
“Make good on that and I’ll meet you in your offices with my best scotch tomorrow.”
The restaurant watches the two men leave, Jason practically skipping with glee as he rushes out the door. The building quietly buzzes, in a state of general confusion, until a blonde British gentleman shouts.
“Twenty quid he gets his ass beat instead!”
“Irremissible…” Volk growls as he presses a button, flipping one of the wall panels into a betting board and surfing channels until he spots his employer. The restaurant erupts, near every patron trying to get their money in the pot. Mia scans the crowd, noticing Velvet ready to yell her own bet before being stopped by a look from Eleanor. The American mimics a whipcrack, earning her a stinkeye.
She just lets out a laugh, grinning and adding her bet to the din. She slips Eizen’s folder into her bag, to peruse later. This city was just too much fun to pass up.
Meanwhile, Liesel wakes up in a cell, both her hands and feet in cuffs. She struggles upright, still groggy from the gas that knocked her out. She looks outside the cell, seeing a wall of computers and the man in grey-and-black clothing, eared cowl still up. Seemingly noticing her awakening, he turns to her.
“Who… what…”
“I am Batman.”
“Bruce Wayne. The original.”
“And why?”
“Look, I know what it’s like to have a crush from a distance. But I, and the law, draw the line at stalking.”
“Look, it’s not…”
“No, no, I understand. Still, stalking is a crime. If I’d turned you over to the DFPD tonight, they would probably have just killed you because they don’t have their fancy new jail, nor do they have the people at this time of night to keep you in custody. Sleep here, and I’ll turn you over in the morning.”
“Can I at least have my bag?”
“No. I’ve had no time to check, and even if I did, the people here use strange technology. I can’t guarantee you don’t have a weapon in there.”
“I…” Liesel cuts off as Batman sides a small disk between the bars, releasing more knockout gas. She passes out in seconds, barely a few minutes before sirens surround Batman’s place. She doesn’t hear the short, tense standoff, and her neck snaps just before a battering ram opens the door to the home.
Ch. 5[]
“You fuck magical girls, Bruce?”
“Who the fuck starts an interrogation like that? I just sat down!”
Cole Phelps looks around smugly, noting the dropped jaw of the brown-haired boy that a great bear of a man had put with him to learn interrogation. The man across from him, the Batman himself, looked more than a little irritated. Just as he had hoped.
“Look, Bruce, we found her cuffed and dead in what I can only call a depraved sex dungeon. With the testimony from a respected PI, we’ve got you pegged for kidnapping and assault. When we raided your home, we’ve got murder and, carrying the heaviest penalty, illegal home expansion. Based on the circumstances, we can also add rape to the charges.”
“Look, I told you. She was stalking some poor girl, I apprehended her, and was holding her until the morning when I could bring her in.”
“She was dosed with some weird-ass knockout gas, Bruce. This looks a little…”
“Don’t charge him with murder,” a voice comes from the door. The Akechi boy was clearly holding back a snarl when he sees the visitor, so Cole turns around in the same mood.
“And exactly who are you to… Leo. Sir. On one of your surprise humanitarian inspections?”
“Well, no, actually. I’m here specifically for this,” Leo says as he enters, trailed by Joker. Akechi walks up to his rival, only to be met with an outstretched hand and Joker pinching his own nose.
“So why shouldn’t we charge him with murder?” Cole asks, ignoring the glare-off.
“Easy. I killed her. She failed the lose condition of a royale.”
“Leo, I…” Batman starts.
“Hit him for the assault, kidnapping, and illegal home expansion, though,” Leo continues, handing a thumb drive to the detective, “This has all the Kadingir footage you’ll need for those. And a few more of the same.”
“All right, sir. Thank you,” Cole says, “I’ll get this and him down to Execution for sentencing.”
“Sounds good to me,” Leo says, looking at the soon-to-be dead man.
“Understood. Akechi, enough with the fruitcake shit. We’ve –” Cole cuts off as Leo looks at him, the mask unchanged yet somehow clearly furious. The detective clears his throat before starting again, “Akechi, flirt on your own time. We’ve got three more interrogations before lunch.”
Joker steps aside, letting the other pair past and out into the hall. Cole tips his hat at Shinji Ogawa and Maria Cadenzavna Eve, heading in the opposite direction. The two Surveillance Division agents continue down the hall, turning left into a door marked for bounty hunters.
“You need the experience,” Ogawa whispers, “Give the briefing this time.”
Maria nods, pinning two pairs of photos on the board. She turns and looks at the assembled bounty hunters, a (literally) colorful bunch of misfits who would otherwise be causing the same kind of trouble that would get their faces plastered on the board behind her. Some were probably doing so on the side, but not looking too deeply into their hired help was one of the ways the DFPD kept their bounty hunters.
“We have two targets for you. The first,” Maria says, pointing to the silver-masked one as the bounty hunters fall abruptly silent, “is Doctor Doom. It’s about time the Wolves as a whole were laid to rest, and he’s the keystone. The Council of Magi has also added to the bounty pot, so this one is rather large. The danger involved is considerable, however, and partial rewards will be paid out for information leading us to him.”
“The other is Mikoto Suoh, who appears to be attracting several highly-powered groups as subordinates. We know the Blue Suns, Reapers, and the Squadra Esecuzioni – or at least part of it – are under his command. There have even been reports of a few Shirai Ryu ninjas,” she continues, noting a blue-clad hunter perk up at the last name, “We’d like to stop this before it turns into another Mister C situation, so there will be extra payment for getting it done quickly.”
She steps back as the mercenaries buzz, trying to figure out which job to take. Unexpectedly, a woman with blonde hair in a ponytail and a rather eye-catching outfit – a baseball cap, tube top under a canvas jacket, a poorly-concealed gun in her bra, and jeans – walks right up to the pair instead of joining in on the deliberations.
“Let me guess, Mia,” Ogawa says, “You want to take both?”
“Exactly. They both seem real fun.”
“I’ll put you down for those, then,” Maria says, and Mia walks out, waving. The American nicks a cup of coffee from someone walking in with a tray, blending into the crowd before the poor intern realizes what happened. She takes a sip as she shivers in the morning chill; coming from the barely-heated shelter to the DFPD was fine, but after experiencing central heating her body now remembers that snow is not tube top weather.
She takes another gulp, letting the hot drink warm her as she waves to a hungover Jason Todd sitting next to a brown liquor bag in a coffee shop, holding his head and glaring at a bottle of painkillers. He didn’t respond, but that was fine. He let her make a fortune last night. She continues walking, entering the lower district and scrunching her nose at the smell.
She glances into an alleyway as she passes around a police cordon, spotting a blonde corpse next to what appeared to be a large blue mound, and a dead cyborg hanging from the fire escape. She continues onwards, paying the sight no mind, and raises the half-finished cup of coffee to her nose. The strong aroma of hazelnut mixed with a light, slightly nutty caramel blew the stench of death away, and she takes a sip as she gets to an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green, and stares in confusion as she sees Thancred stumble out of an apartment building.
She grins maliciously as she sees him wave to a pale woman with a red hoodie leaning on her Juliet Balcony, and jaywalks to catch him.
“Yo,” she says, falling in beside him as they walk towards the center of the city.
“Hey Mia. Sounds like I missed a good time at the Iceberg yesterday.”
“Looks like you were enjoying yourself well enough with Echo, homewrecker.”
“Well, yes, a one-night stand is a different… wait, homewrecker?”
“Isn’t she dating that Kellan kid?”
“Oh, that. They broke up last month when he joined the Reformed Abbey. They’re still neighbors, though, and she decides to tell me in the morning that the walls are thin. Saw him in the hall as I was leaving; if looks could kill I’d be a zombie.”
“Now that sounds awkward.”
“Tell me about it,” he grumbles, “And do me a favor and don’t tell Jo about it.”
“Wait, are you and her…”
“Gods no! She just has a disapproving stare to rival Y’sthola, and the last thing I need is a lecture about ‘taking care of myself.’”
“I’ll take it to the grave,” Mia says, “Though no promises about after that.”
“If Jason follows through on his promise to Eizen –”
“He will, passed him on my way down.”
“Good, then I’ll share a glass of his whiskey with you for your silence beyond it.”
“You know me too well, Thancred.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s my job. Speaking of, I’m turning right here.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
The two sort-of-friends part with a fist bump, and as if on cue Mia’s phone vibrates. She looks at it as she continues walking towards the shelter, seeing a message from Deadshot kindly informing her that a group was going to take out Mikoto in the evening. She texts him back, setting up and confirming the staging point in a flurry of keystrokes.
She looks up from her phone at the reservation shelter, completing the 20-minute walk in what felt like half the time. She strolls into the hollow center of the open-topped pyramid of shipping containers, waving amicably at its other residents. She tosses the empty coffee cup into the communal fire, incinerating the evidence before climbing up to her assigned container.
She steps inside and closes the door, shutting out the cold air before turning on her space heater. She puts a tin of scrambled eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and some French toast inside an FRH, before pouring in some water. She lets the meal heat as she roots through her box of equipment, pulling out her grenade launcher and pistol. She looks at the pair before putting the pistol back and loading the MGL.
She wanted to get a head start on the Doom bounty, and that was likely to take her deep into the sewers. The other residents did their best not to talk about it, but the deeper parts of the sewage system held… things. Things she’d probably want explosives for.
She clicks the chamber back in and checks the time, removing her now piping-hot breakfast. She inhales the bacon and eggs, placing the French toast on a plate before drowning it in maple syrup and honey. She finishes that, too, before switching into her Magical Girl outfit. She loads the pouches with ammo, rations, and other necessities before picking up her grenade launcher and attaching it to a sling, throwing it over her shoulder.
She turns the heater off and opens the door, creating a magic shield to block the gust of cold air threatening to chill her to the bone. She exits the shelter, and sighs as she looks at the road. Out of everyone she met, no one had quite the same ability as Francine, meaning there was no Magical Ducati for her to borrow if she needs it.
She resigns herself to walking, and trudges down the street and into an alleyway, which widens into a small square at the back of four buildings. The square, deserted as usual, has an entrance to the sewers in the center. Mia makes another magical shield to block a gust of wind, which also intercepts a flaming axe headed towards her side.
She looks at Gin, her eyes widening in surprise as she sees her shield cracking. She steps back as it breaks, avoiding the slash, and makes a sloped shield to deflect the follow-up downward strike. The axe digs into it instead, and she jumps back again before it breaks, ducking under the swipe that threatened to tear her in half.
Gin moves with the momentum, one axe in the ground to propel her upwards and another swinging her in a circle for momentum. She brings both blades down in an overhead chop as Mia takes another leap backwards. The axes dig into the ground again, giving Gin leverage to launch herself at her foe. Mia leans back, avoiding another strike, and rolls under a follow-up as she lands.
The American ducks, weaves, and barely blocks the unrelenting onslaught of flame and metal, barely able to breathe, let alone counterattack. The continuous strikes drive her back, and one of her flips lands her on the corner of a building.
She pushes off as Gin slashes, demolishing the concrete in an explosion. Mia soars over her foe, bringing her MGL to bear as the younger girl is forced to break her momentum and turn around. She fires, the grenade blocked but blasting one axe out of Gin’s hand. The girl charges in swinging and hits the grenade launcher, destroying it and mangling Mia’s hand.
Mia grabs a hand grenade from a pouch, tossing it at her foe. Gin bats it aside, not realizing the pin was still intact, as the American draws her derringer and transforms it into an HK416. She pulls the trigger, and a bullet slams through Gin’s head at point-blank range.
She keeps the gun trained on Gin’s lifeless body for a few seconds, making sure her assailant wasn’t getting up. Mia then shrinks and holsters her gun, fishing through one of her pouches with her good hand as she tries to remember the surrounding streets. She hurriedly binds the hand with a bandage and stumbles towards an exit, hoping she got the right place.
She sighs in relief as she spots the medical clinic across the street, which she drags herself into. the doctor looks up, nodding in greeting.
“Mia. What do you need?”
“Got a mangled hand, Doc. Could use some fixing.”
“Yes, that is bad. Come, first room. You will be patched up.”
Mia does as ordered, watching as the scientist Salarian deftly undoes her clumsy bandaging, cleans the wounds, and applies medi-gel to rapidly heal. In a matter of minutes, her hand was good as new. She flexes it as Mordin cleans up, wiping down the blood.
“Bounty gone wrong?” he asks.
“Doc…”
“Yes, sign says ‘no questions asked.’ But mangling of hand is unusual. Can’t help but be curious.”
“Thanks for caring, Doc,” Mi says, smiling at the Salarian and pulling out a wad of cash, “This cover it?”
“Yes. And your previous treatment.”
Mia waves as she heads out the door, finally ready to start a day of bounty hunting.
Ch. 6[]
“To two jobs well done,” Eizen says, hoisting his drink. A bemused Thancred and Jo follow suit, the three paper fast-food drink cups colliding with an anemic thwap.
“Mind telling me why we’re celebrating at a mall food court in the morning? I get that Central Mall is fancy and all, but we’re hardly high school detectives,” Jo says, nevertheless taking a sip of her cola.
“You wanted fish and chips, right? This place has the best in the city. And no one knows how they make their batter, either, so I figured we’d guess.”
“Oh, yeah, I was hired to find out a bit before we joined together,” Thancred says, stealing one of the pirate’s fries, “They get some special beer from a brewery for it.”
“Matches what I’ve heard,” Jo says, stealing another, “A friend of mine works security here. He tried a sip, apparently it tastes vile on its own.”
“Leave it to you two to ruin the fun,” Eizen sighs, snatching a fry from both the student and the spy as Thancred waves someone over. Eizen and Jo turn to look, spotting a blonde with a ponytail heading towards him as Thancred fishes a brown paper bag from his coat. The two wave to Mia as Thancred hands over the bag.
“Should be enough left for a glass, as promised.”
“Then I’ll consider us even,” Mia says, to the confusion of the other two, “See ya.”
“I owe her a favor,” Mia overhears Thancred saying as she walks away.
“If it’s keeping quiet about your night with Echo, we already know. A friend of mine lives across the hall from her,” Eizen says.
Mia speeds up, losing Thancred’s reply in the noise of the mall and not wanting to have to give the drink back. She stops a few minutes later, staring at a store with an odd logo – the letters G, P, B, and T in a square with an ampersand in the middle – and its “grand reopening” banner.
“Hey, welcome to the grand reopening of Goliath and Pier’s Big & Tall,” a massive man – Goliath himself – booms out, “You don’t look like one of our usual customers, so… a gift?”
“No, I’m doing some covert stuff so I need something baggy to disguise my silhouette. I got a duffel coat from Pier’s store before you merged, but it got… damaged.”
“Well, we’re always happy to help,” Goliath says, waving her in. She follows, looking around at the various oversized clothes on display as he leads her through the store towards the coats. He takes another look at her and grabs a puffy, fur-collared coat. Mia tries it on, finding that it not only didn’t restrict her movement much but also that it was very warm.
“I’ll take this, actually,” she says, “Thank you. Can I wear it out?”
“Of course, of course. Register’s this way,” Goliath says, leading her to where she could make her purchase.
Fate gets off the bus at the Central Mall stop, right around the border between the Middle and Upper districts. Nanoha was being forced to take additional training, which was honestly a blessing at this point. Free of her suddenly overprotective wife, Fate had some time on her hands, bringing her here. She scans the crowd trying to find the pair she invited out amongst the sea of people in varied clothing, one even in a large fur-collared coat.
“Ah, there she is! Fate-chaaaan!” a brown-haired girl yells, waving energetically. Fate returns the greeting, making her way to where Hibiki and her housemate, Maria, stand. More than simply being allies, Fate and Maria had become friends rather quickly. She knew she was right to follow Nanoha’s example on making friends.
“Sorry I’m late,” Fate says, and Maria pats her on the head. She enjoys it for a second before shaking off the hand. “I’m not usually nine, you know,” she grumbles.
“Sorry, I’m just used to looking after kids,” Maria says, giving her a smile, “Anyway, you wanted to hang out in the mall together?”
“Well, sort of. Nanoha’s birthday’s coming up in March, so I wanted to get a start on a gift idea.”
“What kind of things does she like?” Hibiki asks as the three head into the mall.
“She’s normally pretty nice and likes cute things, but once she gets into a fight she gets really into it. There’s few things that she likes more than a good fight.”
“She sounds a little like Hibiki,” Maria says with a teasing smile, “Should bring her next time we hang out. As long as she doesn’t also try to fight us first.”
“If she’s like me… maybe a set of action movies? I love watching martial arts movies with Miku, so…” Hibiki says, frowning slightly at the end.
“You really can’t go too long without her, can you?” Maria asks.
“No, I can’t. The dakimakura isn’t really the same, either.”
“Well, I think there’s an electronics store on the second floor with movies, so let’s head there,” Maria says, trying to salvage the mood, “We’ll see if we can get some stuff for you, too.”
The three women head further into the mall, chatting amicably as they head towards the escalator. They ride it up, weaving in and out of the crowd as they make their way to the store while Maria and Fate took turns scanning the crowd, looking for anyone suspicious. They make it to the movie section without incident, and scan the rows of boxes for anything interesting.
They quickly choose what they want, the read-only USB sticks rattling in their cases as they pass a woman in a fur-collared coat on the way to the register. They exit, task successful surprisingly quickly. As Maria and Fate look around, unsure of what to do, Hibiki grabs them by the hand, dragging them over to a dress store.
She pulls the two inside, making a beeline for a display with a simple sundress and a wide-brimmed hat. Eyes sparkling, she stares at it from every possible angle, raving about how good Miku would look in it. Maria and Fate just exchange glances, unable to get a word in, until Maria’s eyes are drawn to a fancy, fairytale-esque blue and silver piece. Hibiki, always perceptive at the worst of times, follows her gaze.
“Oh! Tsubasa would look good in that!”
Which, naturally, leaves Maria a flustered mess. As she unconvincingly tries to deny the direction of her thoughts, Fate notices a black dress with pink embroidery, seemingly combining the designs of a quipao and a yukata. She checks the price tag, thinking of how Nanoha would look in it, and notes it in her head.
The trio leaves the dress store, chased by the employees’ glares for making too much noise. Hibiki, grinning, pulls her friends along to the food court to grab lunch. They finish their food, giggling at the woman in a fur-collared coat eating a popsicle. The giggles turn to laughter as the woman walks off, seemingly offended.
Fate sighs as she gets off the bus in the Lower District, the cathartic day at the mall over. She brushes past a woman in a fur-collared coat who was tapping on her phone as she makes her way to the connecting bus that would take her up to the other side of the Middle District and back home. On the connecting street, however, a large group has formed in a circle, blocking most of it.
“All right, folks!” a voice comes from a truck fitted with loudspeakers, “It’s time for another Grudge Match! This time we’ve get a pair fighting to see who is the true Black Swordsman, Kirito and Guts. As usual, place your bets here, in our brand-new truck on lease from Jason Todd of the Iceberg Lounge!”
The two combatants, a muscled man and a clearly unwilling teenager, step into the center. Seeing the teen struggling to break free, Fate turns to protest. She stops, noting the man with a grey full-face mask, jacket, and pants watching the commotion from a fire escape landing. Leo turns his head, noticing her gaze, and gives a small wave.
She sighs and turns away; if a User was giving tacit approval, trying to interfere would be a bad idea. She edges alongside the outside of the roaring ring, idly wondering if she should just Sonic Move over their heads. She passes in front of an open alley, turning to look at the ring, when she suddenly feels a cloth covering her mouth. A blow to the stomach drives the air from her lungs as pressure is applied to her nose.
She struggles briefly before falling limp as Mia drags her farther into the alleyway, removing her fingers from the carotid arteries and forces open the girl’s mouth, putting in a pill and washing it down with a splash of whiskey. Choking the younger girl out wasn’t guaranteed to last as long as she needed, but the sedative and alcohol would. At cost to her conscience, but she’s pushed that to the back during CIA ops before.
She pulls out her knife and cuts the girl’s purse strap, throwing it in a nearby drain, before turning her attention to the actual target of her mugging: the glove on her hand with a yellow gem on the back. She slices off the glove and sets it on the ground, pulling out her derringer. She strengthens her body and the gun, slamming the back of it on the jewel. It cracks and breaks, and she stuffs the pieces in the fur-collared coat that kept out the February chill.
She positions the girl so that she would be found quickly, and steps out as Guts slices his opponent in half, sword and all. She freezes as she sees Leo looking at her, but the User just gives her a wave. Either he hadn’t noticed or was being sporting; Mia would take either.
Ch. 7[]
Kyoko rolls over in bed, squinting at the noon sun filtering through the blinds. This makes the third time she’s woken up today, and she simply stares at the ceiling. It had been a couple days since Gin had died, and she wasn’t coming back immediately like normal. It had been a while since she actually had to process the death of a friend; Kyoko didn’t think she’d be taking it this hard.
Death was usually meaningless here. She had even died once, caught by surprise in a Black Dandelion outbreak, and was back home to share dinner with a grumpily worried Sayaka. Even if she knew in her head that it was only until the match ends, her friend’s absence left an unexpected hole.
She sighs and squints as the lines of sunlight shift just enough to get into her eyes, the world itself conspiring against simply giving in to her ennui. Turning her head to the side, she takes a look at the Soul Gem on her nightstand and groans at seeing its darkened state. After rolling her body to match, she opens and roots through the drawer under it, looking for that last Grief Seed. She finds it and holds it up to the jewel, sighing again as it only brightens it slightly before the pointy black orb vanishes, going wherever they went.
Kyoko groans as she struggles upright, swinging herself out of bed and shambling to the bathroom. The seeds were only available at a pharmacy, which meant she had to shower. After giving herself a scrub and letting the hot water warm her bones, she trudges out and tosses on some clothes. Checking her phone before leaving, she notices a handful of worried texts. Sayaka, Mami, and even Homura had been worried enough to check in on her. Nothing from Togo, but if Kyoko was taking it this hard then God only knew how the wheelchair-bound girl was faring.
She halfheartedly tells them it’s nothing before grabbing her Soul Gem, turning it into a ring before plucking an apple from the bowl on the table and heading out. Squinting as the excessively bright light assaults her eyes, she trudges down the hall and down the stairs, munching on the apple as she goes.
The midday streets during the week are much less crowded than her usual morning, evening, or weekend strolls, allowing her to move far faster than before. She only finishes her apple after she has already crept by her usual food truck, forcing her to buy a decidedly inferior bucket of chicken wings at one farther down the street. She turns into a wide alleyway, one of the many that constituted her shortcut to the pharmacy. A woman with long, pink hair enters from the other side, holding a bag with the words “Get Well Soon” emblazoned on the front, clicking her tongue in annoyance.
“You’re…”
“Out and about, yes,” Kyoko snarks, finishing a wing, “But if you’re disappointed about that, then…”
“Yeah, cat’s out of the bag. You’re my target,” Maria says, resting the bag of get-well goodies at the alleyway’s mouth.
“Say, I kind of need to get to the pharmacy, so would you mind putting this off?”
“If I caught you at a bad time that’s all the better for me,” Maria says before intoning her activation chant.
Kyoko shifts to her Magical Girl form at the same time, realizing that she couldn’t avoid a fight. She extends her spear, which Maria pushes aside with her gauntlet as she rushes forward, knife at the ready. Kyoko twists her wrist, causing the spear to break into chained segments and rush around her foe. Maria vaults over the onrushing spearhead and stabs downward, driving her dagger through the links and into the concrete below.
The spear now immobilized, she simply materializes another dagger as she continues her charge. Kyoko clasps her hands together, as if praying, and the spear vanishes. Maria stops as a lattice of red diamonds sprouts in front, behind, and overhead, neatly boxing her in. Her foe grins and summons her spear again, twirling and flourishing it before stabbing forward. The tip of the spear hits the barrier in a flash of light, and for a second nothing else happens.
Maria then feels a wind, and she dodges out of the way of a spear materializing from the ceiling. She flicks her wrist and her dagger extends into a whip, smashing through it and pulverizing the spear aiming at her right. She lightly steps to the side of a spear coming from below, directing her whip to destroy it as she limbos under another spear, turning to kick it to splinters as another pair strikes to either side.
Kyoko grimaces, pouring more magic into the attack as Maria spins, whip-blade flashing as it slices through the increasing volume of spears. She moves faster, lashing out with her fist and feet where her blade couldn’t reach. As the hail of spears fiercens she turns into a blur as the crack of splintering wood fills the alleyway.
Kyoko disengages, realizing the tactic won’t work, and slams the butt of her spear into the ground as Maria finishes her rotation, pointing what seems to be an arm-mounted railgun at Kyoko. The forest of spears sprouting between them obscures her foe’s vision enough to dodge out of the way. The air crackles as Maria charges, whipping her blade into a circular slice. A lightning-quick flurry of slashes, stabs, and blocks follow, and Kyoko extends her spear at the end. Maria blocks it with her blade, and Kyoko’s eyes widen as she sees her reflection in it.
She lets up a second, putting her foe slightly off balance, before extending her blade with more force. It slams into a forcefield, throwing the Symphogear user back to the end of the alleyway. She retracts her spear and sighs.
“Well, I lost,” she says, “Neither of us can make it to the pharmacy in this condition, so I’m not making check-in tonight.”
“What…”
“Get out of here, and call Homura. She’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Maria!” a voice calls form behind the singer as Hibiki rounds the corner, suited up in Gungnir with her hard hat still on her head, “Is everything okay? I head fighting.”
“Guess that’s not an option now. Good luck,” Kyoko says, before murmuring to herself, “Sorry, Sayaka. I got sloppy.”
A blast of wind blows through the alleyway as Kyoko’s Soul Gem breaks, turning into a spiked black circle that pieces through her. The world breaks, and a staggered Maria and Hibiki find themselves in a wavering place, filled with what seemed to be paper cutouts before solidifying.
“We’re fine, everything’s going to be okay,” Hibiki says, always upbeat, “Whatever it is, if it’s the two of us we can win.”
“You’re right about that. Thanks for the reminder,” Maria says, “Now where are we?”
The pair looks around, seeing a wide courtyard. Their vision beyond it is obscured by fog, though flickering red and orange lights imply massive fires. In front of them is a building, similarly obscured but looking vaguely like a basilica. A bell tolls somewhere, and the fog lifts slightly around the basilica’s entrance. The double doors peel open, and a flood of humanlike figures jitter out, some unarmed and some holding spear-like candles, all clearly hostile.
Their necks elongate in unison, turning their heads into flails as Hibiki and Maria ready for combat. Hibiki punches, sending the first head flail behind the attacker as she pivots into a kick, sending another familiar flying. Maria extends her dagger into a whip, slicing through familiar after familiar to create space for the pair to move. The familiars with candles, however, simply hold them up, replenishing the horde.
Maria taps Hibiki on the shoulder, pointing to the still-open basilica doors. The younger Symphogear user nods, and the pair leaps, soaring over the horde and through the doors, which slam shut behind them. They gasp as they see the scenery beyond: a field of white flowers; the flowers themselves varied, from lily of the valley to snowdrops to white roses to tulips to standard lilies. A mermaid plays in a small strip of water which isolates one corner of the field, in which rests a horse and a kimonoed woman with a candle for a head.
The witch Ophelia notices their presence, mounting her horse and summoning a double-headed spear. She leaps over the stream, scattering embers in the flowers as she lands. A twirl of the spear creates two duplicates of herself as Hibiki and Maria leap into the field, starting their duet.
The Ophelias attack, one blocked by Hibiki’s fist. The pair ducks under the second as Maria traps the third’s spear in her whip, pulling it off its horse. She collapses the whip into a knife, slicing the candle head off as Hibiki kicks the other two spears away. The remaining Ophelias twirl their spears, and now four of them surround the pair.
The horses ride around the two, scattering the burning flowers as their riders stab at their foes. Hibiki punches two aside, while Maria deflects a third to entangle the last. The pair locks eyes and nods before their foes charge back in. Hibiki grabs one of the spears and twists her body, pulling the rider off and swinging it around, knocking two others off their horses while the last prances backwards. Maria creates a circle of daggers, which rain down and stab the three grounded Ophelias.
The pair turns to the remaining witch, who twirls her spear yet again. This time, rows and rows of horses manifest, creating an army with their candle-headed riders. They raise their spears in unison, and Maria places her hand over Hibiki’s. They nod at each other, and continue their duet. The two Symphogears meld as they thrust their hands forward, creating a massive gold-and-silver fist, a bundle of energy glowing in its palm. As the horses charge, the fist opens, fingers outstretched and palm pointing to the ground. The energy fans out from the open hand in a massive blast, scything through the massed Ophelias.
The field grows quiet, the only sound remaining the crackling of the burning flowers. Hibiki sighs in relief, only to be shoulder tackled by Maria. The spear, thrown by the last fading Ophelia, misses her head, but grazes the red jewel on Maria’s chest, damaging Airgetlam. The weird dimension fades as Hibiki pulls herself up, running to her friend’s aid.
“I’ll need to get this repaired,” Maria says, sighing, “If I turn it in now, it’ll be fixed by this time tomorrow… but I need a Symphogear for tonight. Hopefully Pete will look the other way while I break into the armory for the spare Gungnir.”
“You can borrow mine until yours gets fixed,” Hibiki says.
“Really? But last time you…”
“I wasn’t exactly in my right mind then,” Hibiki says, embarrassed, “Besides, you saved me there. So I want to help you out, too.”
“Thank you, Hibiki,” Maria says, “And I promise I’ll tell you what’s gong on when I can.”
The pair exits the alleyway, too distracted to notice the small, pointed black orb stuck in the ground. The grief seed vanishes, ensuring no one would use it by accident.
Ch. 8[]
Maria stops dead on the sidewalk, having run into the last person she expected to see face-to-face. The two stare at each other, before facepalming in unison.
“Wanna just go at it?” Mia asks, drawing her derringer and transforming it into an MP7.
“I’d rather not, but if I turn my back I’ll get shot, so…” Maria grumbles, and the pair transforms, Maria taking on the borrowed Gungnir instead of her usual Arigetlam, the black and orange striking a different figure than her usual silver. She forms her Armed Gear, the gauntlets Hibiki would have punched with transforming into a spear.
She strikes first, stabbing at Mia’s legs. The American jumps, firing at the singer as she does. The boom of the lance impacting concrete and the crack of gunfire startles the crowd. Maria launches a few more probing strikes as the area around them clears, replaced by sirens. Maria taps one of the coverings on her ear before speaking.
“This is Maria Cadenzavna Eve of Surveillance. Maintain a cordon, and don’t interfere.”
“That is not advisable…”
“Do you want to risk an angry Leo?”
“Understood.”
“Nice of you,” Mia says as the police comply, firing at her opponent. Maria ducks under the hail of gunfire, sweeping her spear at her foe’s abdomen. Mia creates a shield, blocking it and leveling her gun at the other woman’s face. Before she could fire, Maria sweeps her leg out, tripping and stabbing downwards at her now-prone foe. Mia creates another shield, stopping it in its tracks. The weapon strains against the barrier, until she hears a click as the spear opens and the center glows.
Mia rolls out just in time to dodge the point-blank laser blast – which probably killed someone in the sewers – and fires as she rises, though Maria simply blocks the shots with her spear. Mia grimaces and runs in, directing just enough magic into a shield to parry the spear as she concentrates the rest into her gun. She sprints past the polearm, closing in and leveling her gun just under her opponent’s neck and fires.
Her special move, the Just Cause Siege Ballista, hits directly on the red crystal, sending Maria flipping back and disabling her transformation. The singer lands on her feet, to the American’s shock. A blue light on a building catches both their attention, and a bolt of it slices Mia’s submachine gun in half, reverting it back to a derringer and undoing her transformation. Both women leap behind cover, keeping a couple of the slabs of asphalt their earlier fight had kicked up between them as a pair of bolts follow them.
“Is there anyone we both pissed off?” Mia asks.
“Well, if I had to guess…”
A few kilometers away, on top of a building, Mimori Togo pulls the handle back on her sniper rifle, charging up her shot while trying to decide which chunk to blast first.
“Trust me, girl, you really don’t want to do that,” a gruff voice comes from beside her, and she turns to see a man with a shaved head in all-black combat gear sitting next to her.
“They’ve both killed my friends,” she growls.
“Putting aside how you figured that out, that was part of a battle. A battle that finishes with their fight here. Your friends are coming back tonight or tomorrow morning. Be there to welcome them, not arrested for murder.”
Togo takes a deep breath, snarling, and dismisses her rifle. She uses the ribbons on her back to spider down the side of the building, landing in her wheelchair and dismissing her transformation. Nathan nods, and radios the pair that they can continue their fight.
Back on the battlefield, Maria wastes no time diving back in, throwing a punch before Mia can do much more than block. A high kick ties up both her arms, leaving her unable to prevent the singer from stealing the knife off Mia’s belt. The American leans back to avoid getting her throat slit by her own blade before launching a palm strike to the center of her opponent’s chest, which doesn’t do much. Instead, she slams the heel of her hand into the singer’s wrist, forcing her to drop the knife.
Mia then brings the knife up into an overhand stab, which Maria catches with crossed forearms. She shoves the blade to the side, hitting her foe square in the face with a headbutt. Mia stumbles back and drops the knife, which Maria plucks out of the air and steps towards her foe, pointing the blade at her chest. Mia slides under the strike and strikes her opponent’s elbow, forcing another drop of the knife. She sweeps Maria’s legs out from under her, grabbing the knife and stabbing downwards at her now-prone opponent.
Maria catches her opponent’s wrist, squeezing it to force the knife out of her hands. Once again grabbing it, she swipes upward to get the blonde off of her. She swipes again as she gets up, bracing herself to take another attempted shove as she continues to close in with the weapon. Another exchange follows, throwing punches, shoves, and the knife changing hands several more times. As Maria wrests it back again, she finds herself grabbed by the shirt.
She braces herself for another shove, but the American instead pulls her forward. It sends her off-balance, and unable to brace herself properly when the momentum reverses into the shove she had previously expected. Mia follows up with a front push kick, sending her foe reeling and finally creating the space she needs top draw her pistol and shoot her foe in the head.
She quickly pulls the pin on a pair of grenades, dropping them down the laser-cut hole Maria had created earlier. She then double-taps her opponent and jumps through the newly widened hole to the sewers, sprinting as the shocked police force finally springs into action.
Later that night, she finds herself alone in the check-in space, across from Leo. The user gives her a round of applause.
“Congrats, you won. A nice new house, too. Not going to be able to sleep there tonight, but it’ll come back once you’ve been revived.”
“Once I’ve been…”
“Yeah, one of the pitfalls of scheduling a battle in the city. I’ve got to kill you for a bit while things update. Sorry.”
Notes[]
- ↑ Also based on my own willingness to look up BDSM stuff; no thanks
Expert’s Opinion[]
Poemi Watanabe, 7 points- Poemi’s abilities were solidly average, thanks to not utilizing her magic. Even with these, her general personality is what lead to her downfall. With her general disinclination towards silence, she was bound to fail the “don’t tell anyone about the match” condition.
- , Jeanne d'Arc (Jeanne d'Arc), 14 points
- Jeanne’s rather extreme anti-Anglo views were what did her in here. She would have a very hard time staying under the radar, which would inevitably lead to her discovery and arrest or simply getting ganked.
- Jiyu Nanohana, 16 points
- While Jiyu’s apathy would help her in most royales, allowing her to survive by simply not engaging in combat, the scenario for this one means that it leaves her open. And when the person hunting you is Mia, that’s a quick death.
- & Liesel Hansel & Utena Hiiragi, 29 points
- Liesel looks good on paper, but lacks any sort of combat skill or firepower to win any fight she’s not in 100% control of. In her home VN, she lost a fight to someone with only punching attacks and a mangled leg. This means that any time she engages in combat, the tables are likely to be turned on her quickly.
- Utena bows out here because of her personality. She’s simply too focused on her pleasure, which leaves openings for her opponent to take advantage of. With the rest of the surviving roster, that’s a fatal mistake.
- Gin Minowa, 38 points
- Gin loses here thanks to her more brash nature, which ended up being fatal thanks to hunting Mia, one of the strongest combatants in this match. Despite being more than capable of overwhelming those above her with pure offense, she’s more likely to slip up due to a lack of information. #GinWasRobbed
- Fate Testarossa, 41 points
- Fate is a powerful combatant, which got her up to fourth. Where she falls short, however, is that her untransformed form isn’t overly different from a normal nine-year-old girl. As the scenario for this match requires her to not be transformed all the time, she had more moments of vulnerability for a foe to take advantage of.
- Kyoko Sakura, 46 points
- While Kyoko is a powerful combatant, she’s stuck in melee range. Her lack of range is what did her in here, as both Maria and Mia have a variety of projectile options which she can’t really answer.
- Maria Cadenzavna Eve, 54 points
- Maria has an excellent mix of power and range, able to hit hard from all distances. Complimenting this is excellent intelligence-gathering abilities thanks to working with Ogawa, allowing her to come out ahead when it comes to assassinating her opponents. She falls a little short in the ruthlessness department, however, which is where…
- Mia Cyrus, 57 points
- Mia comes in first. In addition to being the most ruthless combatant on the field – bar Poemi, granted, but that’s more due to insanity – her magic is utilized mostly for sniping, making her something of an outside-context problem for the rest of the cast, who tend to fight in melee range. Combine this with her intelligence-gathering skills from the CIA and her abilities in close quarters combat, and she gets the silly crown.
