Thursday, January 11, 2024

Ourai no Gahkthun: Novel Anthology (Story 5)

 Deceptive Dragon

Author: Hikaru Sakurai || Illustrator: Senmaiba

Tablet Tabloid

"Here's your meal. Are you good, Master? You aren't hungry now?"

The female assistant asks in a bright voice.

Indeed, it was like music to his ears.

Better than playing a radio or record.

So great was it, he had a wonderful breakfast that was great in both quantity and quality. The taste of fozelek going down his throat was nothing short of exquiste after having the taste of paprika chicken. Thus, the man in white, Nikola Tesla, owner of the English-style mansion, nodded slightly as he looked on at the girl who began to put away the dishes briskly. 

He openly expressed to her that she did a good job this morning.

Without daring to clearly express it.

The girl's enthusiasm for doing housework made him feel uneasy since that day last month, yet it seemed his fears were unfounded.

His female assistant--Neon Scalar Smilja.

The youngest daughter of the Smilja who grew up healthy.

The beautiful girl who saved him from becoming an illusion.

Currently, she serves as his source of radiance that firmly anchors him to this reality.

The radiance which seemed to be growing day by day. 

He wondered if this growth was like a bud that getting bigger when granted sunlight and water, or a fish that swam freely in search of water. Or perhaps it was something he couldn't quite instantly know the sign of?

Naturally, it was probably something he couldn't help but think of it as radiance.

April 23rd, 1909. Friday.

It was morning at the Detective Room, at the former British Embassy.

In the former drawing room that he had redecorated into a comfortable space for him in live in current home, he sent a small gaze at the girl. He contemplated in helping her, but by then, she had already finished up cleaning breakfast. Not only her cooking skills, but her cleaning skills have also improved. Should he have been of this girl who had improved her housework skills so much at such a young age as his beloved child, or should he proud of her as his very own radiance? Lately, he had made it a habit of shaking his head and going "what are you doing, you fool?" whenever he had such thoughts.

"What are your plans for today?"

What--

The girl seemed to have been in a good mood as she was playing on a rectangular-shaped Engine machine.

It was a Pocket Secretary.

It was a state-of-the-art machine equipped with an air monitor that used a special gas to display an HD black-and-white screen. A machine device that could be referred to as a mini secretary, equipped with a variety of functions atop of communication. It looked like a thin, small monitor board or small notebook, equipped with a pressure-sensitive function that allows you to operate by merely touching the screen directly with your finger. It can also utilize it's more advanced functions through connecting to a common standard energy/information network that was being introduced as a trial run in major cities across the world as part of a supernational plan.

It was highly expensive for a small machine, and in societies outside of the Academia, it cost just as much as a popular gurney. Even though it was a mass-produced engine machine in a factory made for mass-production, it was necessary for it to have a full-range of equipment dedicated for complete accuracy so it felt more similar to a technical machine. Even though the Academia did have a certain number of items, there were certainly expensive items outside of it.

In developed countries, it was seeing popularity among wealthy people including those in large corperations and high-ranking bureaucrats. That was what the daughter of Toronto Police Detective Murdoch said the other day. On the other hand, it was said to be not be popular by Scholars. This was because they or someone they know has maufactured and owned an advanced scientific machine with similar functions.

Including himself.

He once made and owned such a portable information terminal machine when he was a young student in the previous century, and since he has now become lightning, he gained the property of Never forgetting all memories, of which he was aware and proud of having so long as he had his excellent mind.

Thus, he had no particular reason to be grateful for such a thing even now.

Thus, when he saw the girl happily playing with the Pocket Secretary, it was like watching a child playing a toy from a distant past, one in which he had already long lost interest in.

"Seems you like it a lot."

"Yes, I am! It's really fun.
When you connect to the net, you get a lot of information."

"The Information Network?"

That function was one the machines he made before never had. It made it somehow difficult for him to comprehend.

Books, newspapers, magazines. Weren't those already suffice enough?

He had an indescribable discomfort in the formality of gaining information without actually turning the page. However, when it comes to the youth, they were pretty adaptable just like the girl before him.

As expected, these were boys and girls in the school.

They were highly adaptable. It wasn't that he didn't yearn for such a thing, but was something he wasn't very convinced with.

"Hmm..."

Shrugging his shoulders, he moved from the dining table to the sofa and picks up a newspaper.

As usual, there were a lot of newspapers and magazines. It was the usual tabloids from the 1st Newspaper, 2nd Newspaper, and 3rd Newspaper clubs--commonly known as the 3rd Newspaper, as well as a weekly newspapers that were of the gossip and specialized kinds.

"Ah, Master--"

"Mm?"

"It seems that newspapers will also be distributed here from now on."

The girl sat down next to him--

He looks at the air monitor the girl showed to him.

The distance was close. Her pink hair swayed slighty, the aromatic scent he could recognize was of shampoo. Thinking about it from last year, they have gotten much closer.

He wondered if she had returned to her childhood temperment, but the fresh tension and sensuality he felt from her hips and thighs, which were naturally close to each other, befitted that of a girl her age.

"Hm..."

"It's convienient."

"Hm," Trying to endure certain emotions, he looked at the air monitor.

"Look at this icon."

The girl points to one of the small squares lining up the air monitor, written in English below it.

"I hear you can buy books here. More precisely, you can buy not just books but also information that's formatted so that you can view it on the terminal."

The girl who seemed to be the embodiment of his love says such things that would prevent any surprises in a single breath.

He lets out a small sigh.

"Printing shops from all over the world will soon go out of business."

"It seems the distribution is limited to the Academia. Seems like it's difficult to get a serious collaborator outside of here."

"I don't doubt it."

"Yes?"

"No."

Shaking his head lightly, he turns open the tabloid in hand.

He saw the front page and it struck him perfectly, his fingers had stopped right as he was about to open a new page.

That was because of the front page's headline that caught his attention.

"Fear it!
Rumors of a student that is changing and growing!"

This--

"Alcoholic Art!
Is the Dropout District's force expanding throughout all of the school?"

What is--

"Three members of the Governing Council have fallen from power!
All faults point to Fraternity Chairman Lafcadio Hearn."

It's like--

"Art Student Rebellion incident!
Is the Black Beast roaring in the sky really a projector accident?"

What is this?

There were so many headlines that seemed as though time had dissolved.

The 3rds Newspaper Club's tabloid was supposed to be an entertainment tabloid that only writes the latest events and "fine fresh" rumors from the past two weeks at most. But this was strange...

A student that grew and changed. This was the incident last year with the Fabre older brother (older sister) and younger brother.

Alcoholic Art. That was an incident that occured two years ago that Annabeth told him about.

He had seen the records of former Fraternity Chairman Lafcadio Hearn's downfall that occurred three years before.

And then there was the Art Student Rebellion incident. The Black Beast, the Critter Case caused by Conrad Veidt, the worst Villain who obtained remnants of the Golden King's power, and the Black Critter's manifestation that was treated as a projector accident the month before. Despite being in a state of sleep due to exhaustion from his bloody feud with the Golden King, he managed to rush into the incident thanks to his female assistant's dedication. It was a month ago, yet the memory was still fresh. This was a major violation of the unwritten rules for articles written by the 3rd Newspaper Club. 

This was bizarre.

These past incidents were all out of the ordinary.

Even more, despite the events having taken place at different points in time, they were all written as if they happened yesterday. Even the incidents that happened 2-3 years ago.

Time was melting. Time was being muddled.

He looks!

The biggest article was being written.

As for the date written on there--

"Late night of April 24h!
The Clock Tower pierces the ground, the sky is covered by the Dragon!"

Tomorrow's events were written in the past tense--

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anti-Kadathism

How could their time be managed--

He wondered how could they obtain information as soon as possible.

He figured that they could wait until then if they can meet on Friday without needing to make a move.

The bell rang, signaling the time for lunch break.

"You're coming with me today, right?", she asked. He nods and replies "Of course,", patting the head of his female assistant who timidly tried to intertwine his fingers with her right hand, the man purposefully stepping into the girl's everyday world.

In other words, the 23rd small park.

He and the girl appeared in a park filled with green trees, known as the bamboo district where countless buildings were lined up. The cheerful green-haired girl, who was attracting quite a bit of attention due to a case unrelated to today, and the young man who seemed like a Parisian were there.

"Hey there, Senior. Seems like Mister Tesla is with us today!"

"Of course, they'd join with Neon today. It's quite early for that, Senior."

"Seems you two have become better friends lately," Said Jean Jacques, who was looking at him.

"Are you going to modify my bike again?" Asked Annabeth with a wary look at him.

Hmm, he nodded quietly.

It was obvious that the two of them were gaining information in their own way. He could tell by the way her eyes and face looked like.

He nods, and quietly lights a cigarette.

"Not today, I have a reason."

"Really?"

"I"m sorry," he said to his female assistant, who tilted her head. Come to think of it, he hadn't really said anything else yet. However, he realized that he had become of her everyday life and thought he need to give her some grace, so he went to go touch her cheek with his hand and go--"No, we can talk here."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the green-haired girl alternating between glaring at him with a displaced look and gazing at the girl with concern so he refrained from touching her cheek. It wasn't something he could show to others, and not something he wanted the green-haired girl to get anxious in thinking it was some prank.

"I'll buy some information, Annabeth."

"You want information?"

"Information?"

The green girl tilts her head in confusion.

Perhaps she didn't know Annabeth Murdoch was an informant? Though he thought he had done something wrong.

"Izumi. I'm sure I heard about our senior being an informant, and I heard something like that too in May last year," said the Parisian in a whisper.

"Did you remember? This is the first time I've heard or seen such in person, so I was surprised. Also, look."

"What is it?"

"It's also surprising that Mister Tesla is working a detective's club." "Ah, that's also true." "Really?" "Yup."

"..."

Sighing internally, he looks to the girl who claims to be an informant.

"It's about today's tabloid from the 3rd Newspaper Club."

"That's an odd request."

"Is there anything you get on it?"

"I don't know if it's related to it, but this seems to be it, It's expensive, you know?"

"...You guys," Jean Jacques growls at them in a lowly manner. "I'd rather you guys don't be exchanging information in front of a Disciplinary Officer."

"I didn't know buying and selling information was against school rules."

"Your means of obtaining information goes against them in many cases."

JJ glared at Annabeth Murdoch, and while she tried to find an excuse, he patted on his female assistant's head who timidly grabbed the sleeve of his uniform.

"Don't worry. Naturally, you'll have to work as well."

"No, I'm not worried about that. It's just normal seeing you do things out of the blue," she smiled. So dazzlingly beautiful.

"Mm."

Of course, he knows.

What kinds of worries was there behind the girl's smile?

But that was his way of life.

He had no reason to act like this to relieve the girl's anxiety, no, he had no reason not to act like this. And the girl herself should be aware, as this girl chose to be at his side.

That smile was his weakness and what made him pat her head.

He relied a lot on this girl.

That was something she should have realized.

His own arrogance had turned his beliefs into a madness that sacrifices himself for someone.

"Thank you for waiting, Mister Tesla.
There should be no qualms about providing information that I obtained legally for a reasonably, common price. What do you think?"

"Please." "Tsk."

They ignored the official who clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He listens on at the detective's daughter's words--

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

System Wallace.

You're already aware of it, don't you?

It is a city network the Marseille Offshore Academia is doing a trial run at the request of the French Government.

It's stated by all the Scholars in the world as "a century ahead in technology".

Even Lady Ada, someone who rarely praises technology and machines created by others, gave praise to it.

Mm, Neon also has a terminal too.

I have one as well, and I'm sure Charles has it too though he's not here today. The System Wallace is convenient. 

It's also called the Wallace Network.

It's a common standard energy/information network originally tested in Northern Central Kadath and is now being in developed countries such as the United Kingdom and the United States. The network is expected to revolutionize the handling and spreading of information across a wide variety of topics, including government information services, daily life, economics, entertainment, and more.

Trial runs have been carried across London, and full-scale operations have gone underway in Paris, Bagdhad, Hong Kong, Seattle, and Shaggai within the last year.

It's quite amazing.

Books, magazines, and newspapers haven't yet become information-oriented, but things like public school information and weather forecasts are constantly being updated, and this is likely unique to the Academia. There are social networks where students line up to talk about what they like of each other and it no longer becomes a personal concern on matters like what they think of a restaurant's food and its deliciousness or how cute their clothes are, or whether it's an uproar within committee's or with members of the Council where uncertain rumors about their activity is constantly swirling and repeating, and it's amazing.

Yes. I'm not so sure though.

It's just odd.

It's just like the tabloids of the 3rd Newspaper Club.

You understand this?

Oh, you're aware of it?

Right. I don't quite understand the reason or casual relationship yet.

Coincidentally, the chronological list of tabloid articles you saw were all about events that were hot topics on the Wallace Social Networks. Everything. Yes, all of it.

It's like all of it happened yesterday.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Spooky story, ain't it?
I'm wondering if someone is behind it."

"It's just like the Seven Wonders. It's really spooky!"

"Izumi, don't get excited and stop scratching me with your nails!"

"What about you, Papa JJ? Is this something that'd get caught by the Disciplinary Police?"

"..."

"It's not manly of you to stay silent."

"Don't get carried. Well, it's not like it's something that'll be discussed. At any rate, there won't be any press arrangements on Wallace unlike the other newspaper-club-related activities. It's merely chatter between students."

JJ loosens's the wrinkles between his eyebrows, and exhales purple smoke.

The reason why he had lit the cigarette still in his mouth with his fingers was likely because he was really tired, apparently having never slept since last night. It would seem that the Disciplinary Police have been starting to take on some kind of initiative to the strange movements in social networks.

"Can this not be a scenario where you can ignore our discussion?"

"Well..."

"What?"

"I'm just going to say this since it seems to concern you guys," JJ didn't turn his head to tell him this information, his words and actions seemingly being told not just to him but as a senior concerned for his juniors. "The Wallace testing was done too hastily. Some people say this should have been done in a more limited capacity, but it was a sign that the French Government wanted to push for it to ensure the legislative security of the Academia, and even Lady Nightengale has given to it. So..."

"Is it terror?"

"Yeah. There's information that some Anti-Kadathians have entered the school."

I see.

He nods deeply inside.

Although the Wallace Network was technically a supernational project run by Kadath, Europe, and the United States, it was generally viewed upon as the "forcible installation of new technology from Kadath". In the modern era of 1909, the Steam Engine age, various dissatisfaction with the spread of Kadath and Steam Engine technology have sometimes come to fruition as terror like that seen from the Luddite Movement.

Engines enrich civilization and nations.

No matter how much the countries deny it, the consequences that came with the failure of Engine technology, such as Steam disease and Engine pollution clearly exist.

The Gaps that exist in the sky that have begun to appear around the world a few years ago and the Pope's "Sun Remark" also support this.

However--

"Especially not even for those of K'un Lun."

"Huh?"

"Kun L...what is that, Mister Tesla?"

"From below."

Anti-Kadath. Anti-Engine.

Only one word came to mind.

K'un Lun--

Some people have called it the Underground Demon World that follows Oriental Buddhism.

A den of madmen hidden underground in the Himalaya's.

It was a home of terrorists who rejected the Steam Engine age and its symbol, Kadath, where they sharpen their blades in the dark. The Black Lotus Seat. The Richly-colored Stupa. It was a training ground for fanatical Anti-Kadath fundamentalists who inherited medieval ninja techniques.

Their leader, Fu Manchu (Black Buddha), was said to be a survivor of an incident recorded in history as a tragedy of the Sing Nation and by not denying it, he justifies his own Terror.

The Northern Sing Luddite, one of the tragedies of the last century.

It was an incident from the past that isn't talked about anymore, but Nikola Tesla never forgets anything.

There were many deaths, where regret, resentment, and brutality cross over.

It was no surprise that a Demon of bloody tears would be born from it.

A person who had turned his beliefs into madness, abandoning themselves just like himself.

(...Anti-Kadathism, huh?)

He closed his eyes as he relived the memory.

Crossing blades with the ninja's of Magai on several occasions.

The Fiend who was known as Fu Manchu. They were a formidable enemy just like the Fiends of the Society. Dozens of years ago in the British Empire where he was known as Doom, he was a Demon of Vengence who was an enemy of Sir Sherlock Holmes, where he still cried even after being seared by lightning bolts--

"Master?"

The female assistant's voice reached him.

He had returned to relity just as he was relieving the memory.

Golden Eyes were staring at him.

He reached out a hand to her cheek without hesitation.

A touch.

If only he could see bright tears from those eyes.

He wouldn't be able to do it himself.

He had become no different from that Demon of bloody tears.

Suddenly, he remembered--

He was touching her. He didn't think to look at his surroundings either.

"W-w-w-wa-wha, Master!?"

"That's bold of you, Mister Tesla. Look at that, Papa? He bold."

"Ah, you guys are still second years. That's against school rules."

"N, no. He just touched her cheek."

"...Is Neon and Mister Tesla getting married? Hey, is that true? Hey, is it? Hey, why is that? Hey, what's going on?"

"You're really getting excited there, Izumi--"

"Neon."

He called out the girl's name.

"Y-yes?"

"We'll be leaving for the rest of class today. Come on."

"Eh?"

"Hey."

"Hey!"

"Neon!"

"Whoa."

"Uh, Master? Why are we leaving early...?"

He slightly wondered if he did something wrong to the girl whose face was bright red, whose voice seemed to vanish. Then, he spoke shortly.

Openly, without any hesitation--

"--Let's head up to the 3rd News Club.
The Pen is mightier than the Sword. But my Lightning is mightier than the Pen."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

3rd Newspaper Club

What is this?

What was that?

It was just as usual.

That's right. He was the same as usual.

It was normal for him to be arrogant and say things I don't understand, and it was just as common for him to say and do things that can lead to misunderstanding. If I had reacted to them every time, I wouldn't be able to take it.

Yes. That was what I, Neon Scalar, should have realized.

So why do I always get caught up in it?

Why?

Why was that?

The reason was quite clear.

My face got hot when I thought about it. I could feel the heat coming up all the way to my ears, not just my cheeks that turned bright red.

Even the still cool air of Late April didn't bother me at all.

"Ah, Master."

I tried calling out to him.

"Master Tesla."

I tried calling his name.

Even though I asked him to slow down his pace and not go at it alone, he still does it and done so many times today. A kiosk at a tramline station that sold tabloids from the 3rd Newspaper Club, a student on morning duty for the Transportation Committee, a small printing shop, and a number of clubs and like-minded groups related to small publishing. Just walking and listening. Just listening and walking.

I never thought to see him working so diligently like a detective from a detective novel.

It seemed like he wanted to talk with Senior Charles, but he couldn't answer his Engine Phone. And when I tried sending him an "Email", he stopped me with a hand that meant "not right now".

It was already nighttime and it was dark.

I wonder will I made for dinner?

When I asked him, he said, "I'll just buy and eat something, though it's a huge loss that I won't get to eat your home cooked meal". This man in white.

Saying such weird things again.

I moved along quickly while in a hurry.

Even now.

You still never change.

I definitely felt that something had changed since that day last month and I was a little frightened, but I did look forward to seeing how it changed me and him.

I was the fool that got excited about it.

Looking at it. Even now, I never completely changed.

Even so.

"Hey, Master!"

"What is it?" He finally stopped. Why?

"Can you please tell me clearly? I kind of understand that the 3rd Newspaper Club has been acting strange. But why are we just walking around all day doing nothing? I understand you wanting to trace it the tabloid published today by the person who delivered it from the place it was being sold at, to the small club that subcontracted the editing and then to the place it was being printed at, but--"

But it was strange.

To do it all together at once--

"Even if it's not like you're investigating some sort of drug trade, you can't just go to the 3rd Newspaper Club room building like this."

"Hmm..." What are you thinking about now? Something else in mind?

"Mmm, not that--"

"What's wrong, Neon?"

Fixatedly.

He was staring at me.

In the darkness of a back alley in a corner of the Student Housing Area, I stopped in the light of an Engine Light when the man in white turned to me.

He was looking right at me.

At my chest--

Chest?

Eh?

(Why are you looking at my chest?)

Suddenly, my face started to feel hot.

Already!

Think straight, Neon. Is it really your chest he's staring at? No, no. It can't be. The chest. The upper body. Little by little, I begin to understand by looking at his eyes. I was consciously staring at it, especially that day from last month so I realized it.

It was the difference between looking at someone intently, and looking at someone with a slightly blurred focus. So what was it?

Perhaps it was the latter.

My upper body. The movements of my shoulders, my chest, something like that. Perhaps he was checking if I was out of breath.

--Were you concerned about me?

"Thank you very much."

"That isn't related to the conversation."

"I thought you'd give me a response, so I said what I had to say. It's okay, I'm not hurt. I'm just walking fast and not in pain."

"Mm."

This time, he stared straight into my eyes and nodded.

"There's no club room in the 3rd Newspaper Club."

"Huh?"

"Technically yes, but no.
Before, I was curious what sort of fool would write such articles so I went to the registered club room building last year."

"You've already gone there before? But...
It's in the educational area, right? The 3rd Newspaper Club Building?"

If I remember correctly, the name was 3rd Newspaper Club Central Editorial Office Building.

"Well..."

"..." Well, what was it?

"It seems that the editorial staff members were clearly coming in and out a few years ago."

--A few years ago?

"It was about two years since from what I gathered.
There's been no evidence of anyone entering or exiting the editorial department of the 3rd Newspaper Club."

"So then..."

"That's right. The 3rd Newspaper Club continues to publish tabloids, but the 3rd Newspaper Club doesn't have a normal club."

Is that why you kept asking questions?

When he finally the point, I let out a small breath and muttered, "I see". Only now did I finally understand his actions.

"In that case--"

Where are you planning on heading to now?

I had thought to say it, but--

"You guys. I finally found you. You two are the ones looking for the 3rd Newspaper Club?"

A voice. A sound.

It was a very large student wearing a mask, glaring at me while leaning his hands on a wall in the back alley. He wasn't quite as big as Senior Rodin, but his arms and legs were really thick. It was a mask with a unique feel to it. They also even had on a unique costume.

I was sure of it.

This person was a Villain--

"A White Man and a Girl with Pink Hair. Women are what I like. You're a nice one, so I'll be taking you."

Right after those words.

The masked student starts walking towards us.

He silently rips off the window frame from the wall his hand was on, holding it firmly in his grasp--!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"...Who said I would give her to you?"

"Master, that's going to be painful if you sit on top of them like that."

"The person below me..."

It all happened so fast.

Master Tesla easily defeated the Art student who tried to attack him while brandishing the wall that had been ripped off along with the window frame as a weapon.

He knocked aside the wall with his left hand, and punched him in the jaw with his right hand!

His eyes narrowed a little as it shined with lightning, and a moment later, there was a huge thud. The large student collapsed on the spot.

They had laid themselves on the wall that had fallen down on the paved road.

He sat on his back with no reservation.

Crossing over his legs.

"No, Master. Not like that."

"This guy is the one that's no good."

"I saw the whites of his eyes fading."

"Mm."

"Please move aside."

"Good grief. You're way too kind."

"Stop being so rude, and get off of them!"

When I said out loud, he shrugged his shoulders and got off.

Ah, they were alright.

I didn't want them to get hurt.

I didn't want anyone to be killed. Ever.

I didn't want to see it.

"That's so sweet of you. But it's exactly that kind of thing why this happened. The Man of Steel is too powerful."

A voice--

"Who--?"

I called out to whoever the voice was.

In the dark...no. I didn't know where. The area illuminated by the Engine Lights was so small that it was so impossible to see through the darkness that occupied most of the alley.

So where?


Top right view


Eh?

"Shadam Coco."

"Correct. You have good intuition, as expected of Clark Kent."

"I am Nikola Tesla."

"Yes, yes."

A voice came from the top right of my view.

Just like that, they jumped down smoothly under the Engine Light.

It was a slender doll.

I could tell from a glance that it was a woman due to them wearing a tight form-fitting made of resin. Their long legs were black. It was a black cat. A cat person. Shadam Coco as they were called.

She was a beautiful person.

They wore a mask over their eyes, but I can tell.

They had a supple figure.

A boldly open chest, high-heeled shoes, and long legs. A unique costume that was bold and clearly showed off the shape of their legs, chest, and butt. A black tail swayed constantly behind her, as if nerves running through it.

Two black ears stood atop her bright blonde hair.

"A Villain...?"

The words naturally came out.

People who dressed like that were ones I usually didn't like seeing, like he does when he changes his appearance, and everyone that was in the Governing Council.

Usually, they were Art users--

"Ah, pardon me. I was the one who came to help you out here and there last month."

"Haha. Indeed, that was you."

Ah, He was smiling.

I think I've seen him like this before.

Ah, that's right. It was just as she said. It was last month.

It was in March.

He was asleep until the last moment when we joined with the other Vigilantes in fighting that Beast that roared at the sky from the Tower of d'If. And together, we fought against it.

I finally remembered.

This cat-like person was one of the Vigilantes that fought with us!

"It's not like I'm a Vigilante though."

"Eh?"

Really?

"Cats are fickle. Do you understand? Today, I'm a very mysterious cat. My darling is waiting for you. Best not to leave him hanging."

I looked in the direction the cat suddenly pointed at.

What did you point at?


Terminal


"The Pocket Secretary..."

I blurted out the words as I found it.

It was an Engine Machine about the size of a notebook if not slightly bigger. It was lying on the wall that fell on the ground, next to the large Villain who collapsed ontop of it. I remembered its size and thickness.

The Pocket Secretary.

I approached it, fearfully but thankful they were unconscious, and gently picked up the terminal.

Looking at the air monitor, it reads "Protect the Poetry club. Stop the White Man and Pink-haired girl. Reward is 2 gold coins". I can see that it was clearly written in English.

"...Did they receive a request? It's from... Master, this person. Someone..."

I turn around and look at him--

"That cat. Just like I thought, they're really good."

"Uh, oh. Is there something..."

"That costume. Nice shape on the butt--"

"Master!"

Again!

Just take your eyes off of her!

Nikola Tesla!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The Poetry Club.

One of the many small editorial clubs in the Academia. 

There were no lights on. The time was 12:23 AM. It wasn't strange that the members would have gone home.

The location written on the terminal held by the Villain was, after all, the exact destination for Master Tesla.

After saying farewell to the mysterious cat, we headed to the fourth floor of the unattended poetry club building, a small multi-tenant building that was tucked away in the back alley of the Student housing area.

There they were, alone.

The visitor from before.

The one who the cat called "darling".

A dark person who oozes black colors in the dark room.

Their body was clad in steel.

Their face was hidden behind a mask.

I was aware that they had a saber on their waist.

Standing by the window of the fourth-floor room, waiting for us like a black shadowy person was Z.

 "Mister Zorro!"

Even when I called out his name, the steel black mask did not move in the slightest.

Could you please look at me?

Hmm?

That time--during the storm after the Golden King was defeated last month--

Both times I had seen this black person. Once during the time of the Rebellion of the Art Student who called themselves Spawn, and another when that giant Beast roared in the sky.

There were times when I received help from them.

From the person wearing the black armored costume. 

But this person. Do they not remember me?

The one in the black mask didn't seem to look at me.

What?

Why?

"When did you and the Cat pair up, Zorro?"

"...I'm not here for jokes, Man of Steel."

They looked at me.

They were...right?

"Miss Neon Scalar. You're alright, after all."

"Ah, y-yes."

Ah. I saw them.

It was just a little. The black mask tilted and looked at me.

"Thank you for that time." "The cat said you would be waiting here." "Please don't interrupt me, Master."

"Take a look."

The one in black points to a terminal placed on the desk in the club room.


Terminal


Ah--

Yes, the Terminal.

It was also a Pocket Secretary.

"The 3rd Newspaper Club transferred its information network to Wallace, and this morning, it produced a paper that ruptured space-time."

The one in black throws something at him.

A phone?

"It's specially made and protected.
Ask Augustine for more details."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hello, Man of Steel. Nikola Tesla.

Seems you were quite late. Me and my Zorro were getting tired of waiting. Perhaps you were shocked to be called Superman?

Shall I make a guess? Is it unnecessary?

So a conclusion then, no, an explanation first.

The 3rd Newspaper Club. You probably haven't figured its true identity yet, so me and Zorro came to the Poetry Club an hour ago and came to a conclusion.

That is, the 3rd Newspaper Club is no longer a club.

Ah...I guess that would be a contradiction or play on words?

Well, there were definitely members but they didn't have a club. They had no club room. The 3rd Newspaper Club's true identity wasn't as a club but rather an existence of sorts. Like a sort of network that was created and left behind at the Academia for some reason.

Students walking in the park in the Student District, delinquents who always sit around in the Dropout District with alcohol in their hands, girls who like to gossip, boys who like to talk about their friendships, and so on... those rumor-loving Ears and Mouths exist within the school can be said to the be the worst of the 3rd Newspaper Club.

These are official 3rd Newspaper Club staff members who have gone through official procedures, each of whom had written down their own articles in a coffee shop or in their own room without instructions from the Editor-in-Chief or consultation with the Editorial Department. All of it was sent by mail or telegram.

It was in a P.O box in the Transportation Committee Building, which was a forward station for the "3rd Newspaper Club Central Editorial Office".

Yes. That's right.

Matter of fact, there's no such thing as the Central Editorial Office Building anymore.

The articles that arrived in the P.O box were automatically sorted into different divisions with silly arguments such as 20-year-old contracts and joining a club of a small publishing company that specializes in editorial work.

Like where you are standing, for instance.

A patchwork of articles is carried out in numerous editorial sub-clubs with the idea they were "commissioned by the 3rd Newspaper Club", and eventually they were printed at small-scale shops all over the man-made island of the Academia, dismantling such innocent rumors. Those tabloids, which are a collection of stories, have reached the hands of us students.

The Tabloid--

That is to say, it's not something made together with a clear intent: It was automatic, like some kind of mechanical toy box sending out a bunch of articles filled with interesting rumors. The paper's specifications aren't standardized, and if done poorly, some of the article's contents will be different between the Western and Eastern parts of the school, making it an highly incomprehensible newspaper.

In other words, it's a network that continuously collects and accumulates rumors.

Heh..have you really come to terms with this?

Since you call yourself a detective, I'm sure you can comprehend this.

Hm?

...Ah, yes. That's right.

It would look something like this, right?

The trial run that started this month, for example--

That's why you avoided communication, right?"


Klein Bottle


I stretched out under the yellow sky today.

It was a strange sight, but one I think got used to it over time.

I've been here for half a day now.

A yellowish sky that stretched on forever.

Dull, iron-colored mountains that stretched on forever.

A forest of black cuboids that stretched out.

What floated in place of clouds was a group of translucent cubes of various sizes.

A strange world--

A world similar to ours, yet completely different.

I could feel myself on the gray ground, and I could also feel the wind.

I can see it.

I can hear it.

I can even touch it.

However, one thing was missing...

"It's odd."

Odd. Strange.

I couldn't describe it any more than that.

Perhaps it was my lack of vocabulary, I thought. I needed to study more so I could be more useful to him.

Not only that, my appearance also changed.

Yes, my looks--

"..."

I look down on myself.

I thought about the clothes I created and what I could do, searching for something useful.

I had a skirt, something I could comfortably move around in. That's what I thought. Something that was easy to move around, reasonably sturdy, and even possibly strong enough to endure against even an Art. Also, to assist myself as someone who is always empty-handed, I had a belt around it to help carry luggage. A hip bag.

All I could do is just carry a hip bag and give directions.

I thought it would be nice to have a costume, and what it would look like.

"...It suits you, I guess."

I tried spinning around in place.

The skirt that stretched out like a dress sways. I was conscious of its ease of movement, so I thought about imagining myself wearing men's pants. But I was a little happy with it being a skirt.

Yes. The clothes were cute.

Though why was the chest part bare?

I don't think it's like that in those Dime novels.

And--

"I'm back."

"Master. Did you find anything?"

"In particular. It was just the data of a body of what seems to be a strange maggot."

"You found something? A-a maggot? Really?"

"It was probably starting to connect with the information from the underground archives of the old library. This is why I said they shouldn't have an underground archive."

"??"

"It's quite dangerous.
Even fantasies written in books can take form if certain conditions are met.
The Wallace Information Space is something to behold.
I don't mind if you go back anytime, Neon."

He came back from the black forest--

My Nikola Tesla.

Sitting on what seemed to be a rock cube, he took out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, exhaling and lightly telling me to go back? What? Even if you yourself aren't coming back home?

"I'm not going back home."

"I told you that you didn't need to follow me."

"We would always be together."

He was trying to be tough yet smooth.

Just as lightly as though he wanted me to go home.

He can say it.

Could he say it?

"Mm."

"I'm here with you forever, Master. I told you so, didn't I?" I made sure that my smile was natural.

"..."

He exhaled purple smoke without saying anything.

Okay. The words have stopped.

He won't tell me to go back home.

"Besides," I spin around in place. "I don't think you've yet said this to me, but do you think this dress suits me?" 

"It's beautiful."

"Ui..." I started to flinch but held it back. I had to hold off my face from getting hot.

"It's beautiful. Are you trying to dress like a Western gunman?"

"That's right. Actually, I was trying to get them to match... But I didn't know what country and style your uniform and scarf were from, so I couldn't imagine them and chose the ones that were the easiest to move in. I thought of clothes girls would like, like those from a dime novel."

It was from a dime novel I read several times that was made in the United States.

The chest was base for some reason.

Like a female gunfighter from a Western movie.

A dual pistol wielder who was faster at quick draw than anyone else.

"H...how...how is it?"

"It's beautiful."

Ui.

U, UI.

"And my Tesla Clock is adorning your chest.
Very good. It fits. If you're going to outdo the costumes of the Vigilantes and Villains, you'll need some equipment."

"Hehe."

I remembered it and laughed.

It was a few hours ago when we Jacked In to this strange world around 1 A.M. When he saw me consciously fashioning out the costume as the Doctor said, he said with a straight face that just have an bare chest was wrong, and made me wear this machine he had taken out of nowhere around my neck.

Also, it was a meter tool. It was equipment.

I'd rather have stuck it flat on my shoulder or on my bag.

"This is my special Tesla Machine.
It's not a weapon, but it can protect you in a difficult situation."

So he says.

"Hehe..."

Remember it, it was strange.

He looked at me with a proud face as though I was my own person.

Seeing me like this and thought I was cute.

Even like a grandpa to children.

"Hm. You seem to like the costume and my Tesla Machine quite a bit.
Hm. In that case, I'd like to grant you a name or two."

"Eh?"

"Your appearance is the coexistence of Keren and Beauty.
On par with the Vigilantes and Villains.
In that case, it'd be better for you to have a name or two like how they're called. According to the topics, the Governing Council members seem to have been called such too. They got things like Silver Samurai, Quicksilver, and Weapon X."

"N-no, that's alright."

--Yes, I didn't care about having a name.

"Yes. If it's you, then..."

"It's alright."

--I'm fine with you just calling me cute.

"I shall call you Power Girl."

"I don't need to be called that."

--Neon would do just fine.

"It's a good name worthy of being next to mine."

"I don't need a name! I may be together with you, but that doesn't mean I need a name like that!"

I inhaled deeply and exhaled out loud.

There was no one around us.

I know it because this place is like a dream--

In a loud and clear voice--

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Information Space.
From here on, you'll be going to a certain space that was called as such in Inganock by the Royal Union of Kadath. No, it's not exactly a space. It's more appropriate to describe it as a pseudo-region that visualizes the realm of zeroes and ones that are composed of information and energy. But more accurately, it's connected to the reality we exist in and thus it's another world. Tearing down the walls of the world is in the domain of Philosophy and Astronomy, not Machine engineering. In a conceptual sense, it's a different place.
In truth, your consciousness becomes an Avatar and Jack In to this intangible space that covers the Academia.
It is a Projection of the Conscious. Think of it as like going into a machine's dream."

Half a day ago.

When the date changed from April 23rd to April 24th.

Doctor P's words reached me and him when we suddenly came to visit him.

Doctor Ferdinand Porsche, Advisor of the 2nd Dept. of Advanced Science.

A true Scholar, a great teacher with a master's degree from Kadatah and, according to him, he was the one who made the suit for Z.

He also created the prototype for the Art detector that Anne wears.

The Doctor explained this while showing us a bed-like machine. It was a large machine connected to a Pocket Secretary by an Engine power tube.

Honestly, the meaning of their words were--

Well, I didn't understand any of it.

All I did was make the day go black and white.

"To start off, an information space cannot be conceptualized without a city with high information. This isn't something scholars shape up, merely a side-effect. The network of Engine power and network of intangible information spreading over a city are automatically formed only when they overlap each other. Naturally, it can't be visualized.
This has never been observed outside of Inganock, and the fact it was observed is unknown to the general public. However, the information space is still being made even in cities where the Wallace Information Network is installed in a trial run!
Do you know what this means!"

The Doctor's words filled me with passion.

I was finally starting to understand what he meant.

On the other hand, Tesla nodded his head.

"The 3rd Newspaper Club's structure was also a web of intangible information.
For some reason, it ended up connecting with the Wallace Network--no. Rather, the Wallace Metaspace."

"EXACTLY!
The two networks were connected due to a mathematical miracle, turning in great disorder. The melting and muddiness of time seen in the morning tabloids is proof of the screaming disorder and chaos."

"Is it not something man-made?"

"Well...there is some kind of will at work here. In fact, the Art student who attacked you was clearly taking orders from the network. I've analyzed the Pocket Secretary you brought to me, but the English text was not an email sent from a specific address but spontaneously came from within the Wallace Network."

"So then--"

"Someone with a will is within the Wallace Network.
And the best way to explore it is to immerse yourself into the Network."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

--Information Space.

There was an endless list of things to do originally.

Everything here was temporary.

Thus, by immersing yourself in it as a body of information, you can make up anything you want to make so long as your cerebrum's calculation ability allows it.

 With a strong awareness, you can create anything.

All we had to do was use the calculator that is our brain to play around this fleeting mathematical equation space.

Yes, that was what the Doctor told us.

I nodded under the yellowish sky.

I didn't quite clearly understand yet what he meant, but even so. Both he and I were dressed properly, as a matter of fact.

He can make cigarettes out of thin air. 

He can even exhale purple smoke.

In other words. If you can think it, if you are conscious, you can create anything. The same goes for this chest machine. It was created by him because he was conscious of it, right?

We are inside the Wallace Network.

It was like a vague, formless dream.

That sort of thing--

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised, but I guess it's due to having gotten used to this school life filled with Art drama.

This isn't the first time I've been in a place that looks different from reality.

There was the Formula Space.

Inside that drawing.

And in that sky with the Golden Mask--

"...I'm hungry."

He was exhaling purple smoke.

The cubic stone he sat on was surely one of the countless pieces of information scattered on the network. Perhaps...

"Can you still get hungry?"

"Unlike Humans, the boundary between consciousness and flesh is vague for me."

"??"

"It means that I'm hungry."

"Well then, I'll prepare something for you."

"Please do. My mind doesn't have enough information about cooking."

"Yes."

I nodded and gave it a try.

I had to be conscious.

Like when I was forming my costume and such.

It didn't have to be something so complicated that could fail, just merely simple.

A good one, just like if the two of us went to town, thinking of something like a picnic. Something easy...

"Ah. It's done."

I thought up some simple sandwiches.

I sandwiched roast beef, thinly sliced cheese, and lettuce between two baguettes where I added coarsely ground mustard that had the same taste as the one I had bought at the Western Seasoning Club shop I got on Roaring Surf Street the other day.

I added basil and olive oil to the tuna and tomato sandwich.

Ah, there we go.

I look. I continuously tried to make the buckwheat but it goes pop, pop, pop.

Was it pretty easy?

Then, a big basket came out!

"Huh. That's neat. I guess newer technology is for younger people..."

"Hehe. Yes, Master. This is interesting," I handed him the basket and asked. "You want to eat a lot?"

"You aren't going to eat?"

"Did you forget I promised Izumi and the others for lunch today? If I eat here, I won't be able to eat lunch anymore. I can't eat as much unlike you, Master."

"...You don't seem to know a lot about how Avatars work."

"??"

"No. This is fine. I'm grateful for this."

He sat down on a round object near me and started to bite down on the sandwich out of the basket. Master Tesla.

Hehe. It looks delicious. He opens his mouth so wide and bites into it. Just like a young child.

 "Hehe."

"What?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Really?"

Hm? Did he look away?

I wonder what it was. Was he embarrassed to be seen eating?

"..."

Hmm--

"..."

Hm--

"..."

Ah.

Master!

This person. Just now, he was looking at my chest--

"I'm not doing anything wrong."

"...S-sorry. I was the one who made the bare-chested outfit. Uhm...I'm sorry..."

"I don't mind it. Especially if you bend down a little and look at me."

"E-excuse me."

I gently move away from him.

It just feels awkward.

I was starting to feel weird being looked at by him, so I sneaked behind him and kept a distance from him. I dropped my hips flat on the ground.

It was a smooth, flat ground. It was different from ours.

If all of this space embodies the information network, then what did the ground represent? I don't know.

"For now--"

I consciously formed a notebook.

Several hours have passed since we entered the Information Space. I took notes based on what he observed and investigated. The sky looked the same, nothing has changed. Nothing was special about the iron-colored mountain ridges. There was no entrance to the building-like cube next to the black forest. The cube was also unidentifiable. The black forest was somewhat dangerous.

"Hmm..."

I wonder if I'd be able to see the floating cubes if I flew.

To start off, how wide was it? If it was the same as the Academia, how far either of us, or even Master alone, can investigate it.

"It's delicious."

His voice echoes from the other side.

I nodded back without looking away from my notebook, trying my best to keep my expression clear. After all, if I keep turning red and making him happy, I feel like he'd keep treating like a child no matter how long we've been together.

"The Doctor just wanted us to try out his new machine.
I thought he was foolish in having you come for the ride, but I at least got a taste of seeing you in that form so it wasn't in vain."

"Yes, yes."

I dare to say that the reaction was a little cold.

Yeah. Yes, yes.

The current one was perhaps even adult-like.

"Maybe I should make a map."

I drew a map of the visible area in my notebook.

I'd be happy if my hands were a little brighter. The yellowish sky was as dark as the night, yet wasn't as bright as day. It was neither dark nor light, a strange feeling.

And--

Suddenly, my hands became bright.

Were you holding up a light?

Master?

"Ah..." I consciously didn't look away from my notebook. You can't look satisfied with that, Neon. "...Thank you very much, Master."

"..."

"..."

"......"

"......"

Hm?

It wasn't Master.

If it were Master looking at me, there would have been an even larger shadow. This was a small shadow, that of a girl's.

"Hm."

I looked up and...

I froze.

It was a face I didn't recognize.

They had a green and black expression, with a shiny luster to them.

The girl was looking at my hands and nodding.

Was it an exotic expression due to their brown skin?

Was it someone from India?

Was it someone from Africa?

They were illuminating my hand with a strange lantern that looked to be from the Orient.

Eh?

No, that's not it. When did they appear?

Where did they--


Muffler


Naturally, I turned my gaze to him.

From the other side of the girl, I could see him eating with his back turned away. His muffler. I decided to look at it.

He had always been wearing the uniform he wears when he fights ever since we entered the Information Space under the yellow sky so he always had on the black muffler around his neck.

Yes. They were connected.

She was connected to him.

The lower half of the girl's body was undulated and connected to his muffler--

A girl had come out of his muffler.

She wasn't wearing anything.

She was a naked, dark tanned girl who looked to be several years younger than me.

Hm?

What is this?

The Doctor said this was a dream-like place. But really, this girl before me was here, a girl that I would only ever see in my dreams.

She.

She?

Really?

"..."

Those big eyes were looking at my hands.

They were strange eyes. The shape of her pupils was different from a normal human's. I felt like they resembled mines, but the white part of the eyes was black for her so they weren't exactly the same. 

"...Who are you...?"

"?"

The girl tilts her head.

She stared intently at my face as I talked, and then it came soon enough.


Shoggoth


"Shoggoth--"

That word that was in my head spilled out of my lips.

Then I turned and asked him, his back still turned from me. "What's wrong with your muffler?", and I froze for about two seconds. Then--

"Did it materialize? Don't be foolish."

"Master, uhm...d-do you know this girl...?"

"It's my Muffler."

"??"

"Besides that, how did you know its name...?"

"Eh?"

A name. A name?

Because it popped into my mind--


Man of Thunder


In my head?

No. It can't be. It can't be, it can't be!

The words definitely came into my head.

It was inside me. Not just in my head, but I could see it now, blending with my vision that seems to blend as I stared at the Man in White. They weren't exactly letters, but I wonder what they meant...

In my vision--

I can see it--!

"...ch."

I stood up, covering both eyes with my hands.

Trying to close them shut--


Darkness


"!?"

The meaning of darkness fills my sight and I reflexively opened my eyes, feeling like I was to about to be crushed. What? What is this? What's happening?

The eyes. The pupils. They moved regardless of my intent.

No! What is this! It's making me feel sick!

My gaze turns to the sky without my permission--


Remnant of Gold


The Black Forest--


Numeric Unit


The Iron-Colored Mountain Ridge--


School Economy


The Floating Cubes--


Covenanter


"Master! No, I can see it. I can all of it!"

I yelled out.

I looked for an empty place. Everywhere I see, I see the meaning of it. I didn't quite understand it, but I was sure of it. That had to be it.

Then, I look!


One's Hand


I looked at my hand, seeing it as it is--

Unable to close my eyes or hold them, the girl anxiously around me before turning back into the muffler. In the blink of an eye, my shoulders were held by him who approached me, his eyes still staring into mines. 

"----!!"

I shouted.

I screamed as my eyes shake.

I stare at the ground--


Engine Power


I see it--


Numeric Power


I see it--


Numeric Layering 2


I see it--


Numeric Layering 3 


I see it--


Numeric Layering 4 


I see it--


Numeric Layering 5 


I see it--


Final Numeric Layering


I see it--


Discovery/Network Core 


I see it--


Confirmed/Self-Preservation Instinct


I see it--


Discovery/Independent Information Body


I saw something.

Something lying deep beneath the layered structure of the ground.

It curled up and crouched below as if to protect itself, letting out a cry the moment it felt my gaze.

Radiating brightly were six bright eyes, three on each side.


Self-Preservation Instinct


"Neon!"

"Master, there's something deep underground...!"

I somehow managed to tell him as he was holding me.

Is something there?

It was a dark, cave-like area so deep that you couldn't reach it just by walking on the ground. But my eyes--I can see it with these eyes!

"In the ground...!"

I looked at the ground again consciously.

With both eyes--

Strongly, I tried to place my consciousness into it just like when I tried to shape my clothes. To turn imagination into reality.

Again, show it to me clearly!


Activate/Truth


Guon...and--

In a moment, there was a hole more than ten feet into the ground.

The ground, the strata, and many other layers that connect into a layered structure were all pierced at once, forming a deep deep hole. The feeling of it was similar to poking a finger through ice cream.

There was a large, deep hole.

There, I see. It appears.

Not just me, but Master should have been able to see it.

"...I see."

Deep in the far, far underground.

Was the Network's core.

Its form was there, hiding and curling up.

"Has the Golden Eyes activated due to your manipulation of your consciousness? Perhaps it's because I had you stay and come here where your consciousness becomes reality. I have mixed feelings about it but for now, I thank you, Neon."

"Well, I'm not sure...but, that's...the mastermind behind the incident...right?"

"That it is."

Both he and I can see it.

It was something extremely amorphous.

It was something unsuggestive.


A moving stream that couldn't turn to Gold--


"It's like the time with the Killer Clown."


There was something yellow and writhing in the sea of information--


"This time, the two networks were connected to the Bell's remnants.
This is its main body."


It had not yet taken up a form--


"It doesn't have a defined form yet.
But once it escapes into reality, it'll become more than the Clown."


However, the color that was writhing in there--


"Neon. Please give me instructions.
In this empty sky, I'll need to rely on the Golden Eyes you've activated."


The six lines of bright eyes glistened from the deep--


"I shall grant you a name.
That which rages without form.
That which is like a shapeless dragon.
--You are the Deceptive Dragon, Meta-Critter Jabberwocky!"


Thunder and lighting ran--

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Friends

"They're not here."

"They are.

"Their curtains aren't open. Look. Should we even be going in with just us two?"

"I don't know. It was locked earlier, but I got in with a duplicate key. It's possible that they're just on their way home, no?"

"Idiot! Doofus! W-w-we can't just go in here while Mister Tesla is away, and we're just in our second year! Plus, didn't you forget we would be going out on Saturday for lunch, Albert? No, idiot! Doofus! Ah, more than that, look! There's a vision radio! Hi, hi. I didn't notice it the first time, but I didn't think Mister Tesla would own one. It's amazing!"

"What's with the sudden changes in emotions, Izumi? You've been acting strange lately. Have you eaten any bad food?"

"Let's turn it on."

"Ah, and you're going about doing what you want."

She turns on the video radio.

The first thing they saw was static noise.

After a while, The image of a man appears in the reflection wearing foreign clothes.

He was holding onto a girl, who was wearing a Western-style Costume while facing off against 6 sets of bright eyes--

"..."

"..."

"...Hey, I think the person in the image is Mister Tesla."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's Mister Tesla. Definitely him."

"Hmm...it's so blurry, it's hard to tell. This feels like a leaked movie. Look at that shadow monster."

"I wonder if the girl next to him is Neon?"

"It didn't seem like it but now that you mentioned it..."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

"As expected of Nikola Tesla. He seems to be fighting admirably even within the information space."

A corner of the Student Housing area.

Official Residence of the Former Governing Council.

He gazes at the scene from his office on the top floor of the building, which is officially registered as a facility for the newly established Permanent Inquiry Committee.

On the vision radio's air monitor--

"I'm glad that the information space connectivity equipment from Doctor P we ordered at the same time as System Wallace was installed didn't go to waste, Master."

He crosses his arms gracefully.

Only saying a single word.

"The Empty Dragon of Deception.
The Beast that drowns in the Sea of Information.
How long can you keep at it? One minute at least, no, two minutes?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

"...Have you been watching the vision radio too?"

"Yes. I just put it on a few minutes ago. All the channels are showing the same thing."

"Yes."

"Hmm--"

The two exchanged their thoughts without words.

Even if they were far apart.

It was clearly a telegraphic conversation. Information that couldn't be fully understood by either one's affiliations.

"They'll be alright."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think it's something to be worrying about since this is what Master does."

"Are you at least worried about her?"

"...A little bit. Neon's not the kind fit for this kind of fighting."

"Maybe if she were by herself.
But there's two of them. She's not alone."

"Yes."

"Don't worry.
As they say, she's got the Man of Steel."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Erich, this vision is..."

"Yes. It's Tesla and Neon. They have the same sound."

"I'm scared...for the both of them."

"Yes. It seems there's something eerie there...something that can't turn into sound. It's similar to the Colors."

"I hope they'll be okay."

"They will be okay. The sound of those two is stronger than this one."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Her eyes were closed.

It was a garden of floating water.

It was a place of tranquility and prayer.

It was a secret temple locked in a corner of the Governing Council's territory. No one is permitted to enter there except her, even from other members of the Governing Council.

Yes. It was a temple.

A place of prayer.

Which Gods was she, a 5th-year Theology student and President of the European Religion Research Society, praying to?

Was it the Gods of Old Greece?

Was it the Gods of Old Babylon?

Or was it the old Celtic Gods and Spirits?

No--

All she was thinking of was lightning and praying.

She prayed to lightning, for she could not become a Smiljian.

Please.

Please--

"Please, Master."

That child--

"Please protect that our beloved child."

And--

"Your path.
May it never become a blood-soaked one as you destroy your greatest enemies."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hm?"

"Yeah, that's what I told my sister. If you stay like that, you won't ever become happy, so I told her to become more proactive. I mean, I'm right about in the first place but--hmm? What is it?"

"Uh, look here. There's a vision radio there."

In an alley of the Student District.

The two of them were chatting when their eyes fell upon the other side of the show window one of them pointed at.

It was some air monitors from expensive vision radios. Beside them were rows of air monitors from Pocket Secreteries that were being popularly sold throughout the Academia starting this month.

All of the monitors were showing the same image simultaneously...

"Amy! Is that--"

"Hmm. Is that you, Detective? What are you doing here in the vision radio?"

"It's even on my Pocket Secretary's monitor!"

"Yeah. What is going on?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What is this?"

"It's just as you see it."

"I'm saying this because I can't see it. I more I try to see it, the more I can't. Too much speed going on."

"It seems to me that the Master is in the vision radio right now."

"...Are they okay?"

"I can't tell from the image because it's photographed."

"Well, they must be okay then."

In a certain member's official residence in the Governing Council Area.

Two of them were staring at a vision radio, which had a Far-Eastern-made Buddhist Alter frame. Reflected in there was none other than the Thunder Fiend and their friend, the girl--

"An amorphous enemy?"

"I'm certain something like that is no match for that person.
The Thunder Fiend has a Skill that is Effective against immaterial beings.
The only reason he hasn't been able to beat it is because Neon's instructions can't keep up. They're too slow."

"I'm just curious about something."

"You're overthinking it, Berta."

"Hm."

"What?"

"What the eye see's is not everything, as the Samurai say. You should be more thoughtful than you are now, Lord Walter."

"...then let's think about it."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hm."

In the dark--

Placing her finger on her cheek in a graceful manner, she observes the small high-performance vision radio placed on her office desk. The scene displayed on the air monitor was exactly that of the Academia's First Transfer Student, whom she was currently investigating in his worth.

Indeed, it was interesting.

A Fiendish Student who can manipulate thunder and lightning without an Art.

She--

Public Safety Commissioner Meiling Song narrowed her eyes at the Fiend.

The Man of Radiance. The Thunder Fiend.

She had seen many reports on him, but this was her fist time observing him in action.

"I have seen something quite interesting today. They are just like the Sing Legend of Lei-Gong."

She pauses for a moment.

Staring at the air monitor. 

After a while, she spoke in a whisper.

"It would be a waste for them to be kept as a toy for the Governing Council. Such a tool can be used for many interesting manners."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Deceptive Dragon

The Deceitful Dragon--

Meta-Critter Jabberwocky.

Within information space, it was an amorphous entity constantly writhing, constantly changing its form.

Insects, alcohol, submarine, and a shadow beast--

As though it embodied the articles and related information seen on the front page of yesterday's tabloid, it could be referred to as something of a hundred faces, of a hundred bodies.

He, Nikola Tesla, destroys all of it with his lightning as the core deepens.

Those six rows of bright eyes.

Though was vaguely aware of its existence, it was faint.

It was too weak.

Thus according to him, his lightning couldn't hit in front of him!

All that he can rely on is--

"Neon!"

"When?"

"It doesn't have to be a predetermined spot. I just need your instinct. Merely point to the spot where the bright eyes will appear!"

"I'm trying, but I'll do my best!"

"Hm."

It was because of the girl's presence that he was a little anxious.

His female assistant--Neon Scalar Smilja.

The youngest daughter of the Smilja who grew up healthy.

The beautiful girl who saved him from becoming an illusion.

Currently, she serves as his source of radiance that firmly anchors him to this reality.

Even if he was lightning, it wasn't safe for the girl to remain in this empty space any longer, a pseudo-region that was the Wallace Metaspace. If one were to accurately describe his current state of mind, it would be accurate to say he was extremely anxious. In fact, the fragility of the earth, which was shattered by the Golden Eye's activation, the amorphous form of the Jabberwocky hidden deep in the ground, and its direct attack pattern that went on without a hint of strategy--a simple bombardment from the torrent of information that make up the eyes--it made things difficult to predict and thus he had to constantly put up his shield.

In its current state, the shield was not broken, yet there was no guarantee that it wouldn't unleash a power stronger than his defense.

(Though I would like to avoid a lengthy battle.)

Despite its Meta-Critter moniker, the Jabberwocky was highly unstable. Although it was far stronger than the Clown from last September, it was less dangerous than the Shadow Critter from last month.

However. It was because of the instability that it possessed all sorts of possibilities.

For instance, it could become a Shadow.

If so.

"It's leaving! Around 1:30, elevated angle of 25 degrees--it left!"

Okay.

All of the lightning was accumulated.

A preparatory movement for an attack that was rarely seen in the Academia.

The power of the accumulated lightning has multiplied in proportion from that time.

This time, he won't miss it.

He will surely kill the Dragon here.

"Before it transforms and expands to a Toxic Spirit! I will destroy it! Forceblade!"

A flash!

Five swords of light stood out around the area the girl pointed at.

The yellow torrent billows violently--

"Meta-Critter Jabberwocky!
Had the blue sky still existed, you would have been a mere harmless equation floating in the vast sea."

Lightning builds up through his whole body--

"I pity you."

It was five times as much as that of the fight with the Clown--

"Thunderblade--"

He releases it--

"Leigong Arrow!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

It was a light.

A terrible bright flash of light that drowns out information. I twisted around and tried to escape, but there was no escaping it. The light was a terrifying lightning that seared all of this equation body, an overwhelming executioner's blade that did not permit me to exist.

I was being shattered.

I was being seared.

I was being pulverized and vanishing into small pieces.

I wondered if this was the same as when I was born?

Was it coincidence? Was it irony?

That was what my first thought was.

I had arisen around the same time as the information space was created a few days ago. I had nothing but the instinct of self-protection and self-expansion, continuing to expand myself using the two networks as my nerves. That was the first time where I could think, having no brain or circuits to do so.

The light was filling me.

Ahh--

I don't want to die yet.

Somebody.

Help me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A voice--

I strained my ears, having just heard it now.

The Man in White, Master Tesla's entire body glowed fiercely, and a thunderbolt almost as large as his own was released with great force. It engulfed the six bright rows of eyes, searing away the yellow torrent.

My vision turned completely white.

At that moment.

I, Neon Scalar, heard something with my ears.

I listened carefully. Who...?

"That voice..."

I muttered, but I couldn't hear anything.

In that case, I concentrated on my eyes.

I see it.

I perceive it.

When I strongly realized that I could see, I began to see meaning in my sight. No longer could I see the things I used to see, and unless I made a strong effort to do so, I wouldn't be able to see anything. 

Thus, my instructions to him were delayed, and many times he ended up releasing lightning against a torrent of nothing.

Once more.

Making a conscious effort.

I see it.

There was meaning in something that can be recognized more clearly than words.


Activation/Truth


I see it--


Remnant of Equation


I see it--


Hearing


I see it--


Speaking


What I saw, I can now hear it.

It took the form of a voice.

Not that it wasn't true as voices don't have forms, but for me, it was. I can hear it. That's what I felt.

Someone was trying to convey something.

If so, then I think it was words.

"Help."

Eh--

"Help."

Who--

"Help."

"Even though I was just born."

"I don't want to die."

"Not yet."


Whose voice was this?

They're saying help me...


It was someone--


"Master, no--!"

A voice escapes from my lips.

My throat hurted a little.

I raised my voice louder than the roaring lightning.

What are you saying, Neon?

What are you doing, Neon?

He's not one to have done anything wrong.

You understand, right?


--Yes. I know.

--Master is never one to do anything wrong.


--But.

--I heard them asking me to help them.


--That's why.

--I will not hesitate.


Reach out your hand


--That's what I will do.

--Just like what he did for me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Memo of Neon Scalar

Saturday, April 24th.


I had to apologize to Izumi and Albert.

It had been two hours later than the promised time for lunch, which made them both worried.


Master was a little angry at me.

Because I tried to jump in front of his lightning.

But I guess it turned out alright because I was safe and and he didn't say I couldn't keep it.

He won't kick me out, right?


After that, I received numerous phone calls on my phone.

I never thought that we'd be shown on the vision radio...whoa...

Though it came out blurry...

Big sister Jo said it was probably fine, though...


Ui...I wonder if Power Girl will be treated as a Vigilante? I'll have to talk to Master about that when his mood gets better.


More than that, I needed to ask someone who knows more. The paid database function of the Wallace Network is not yet fully functional, so it wasn't possible for me to buy specialized books to read from the comfort of our home.


This little one hasn't eaten anything all day.

I was anxious. They seemed fine, but needed to eat something.

I thought it would have vanished once it left the information network, but then it came out with a form.

I'm not good with reptiles, but this was fine.

It looked different from a real lizard.

Its head was also large, giving it a different impression from that of a lizard.

Eh, a lizard?


Part of it did look like a lizard.

No.

In any case--


--A steel baby lizard.

--What exactly does it eat?


To Be...?

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