Maybe they had considered the hostility in her words, or maybe they were afraid they might be included in the vilification themselves; the dumbfounded patrons and staff finally and suddenly rose and stormed for the exit. Tables and chairs were overthrown in the very unclassy atmosphere, and with a tempest of footsteps, the restaurant emptied in no time.

Now it was just the two of them, staring each other down.

The distance between them was around ten meters. Teleportation and Move Point. It was within the effective range of both; at this point the concept of distance held no meaning.

Only the faint noise of the air-conditioning and the relaxing French pop music broadcast could be heard, sounding oh-so-innocent.

Shirai was sitting on a table.

It didn’t appear to be due to composure. It secretly showed that her wounds weren’t even letting her hold up her own body as she liked. Still, Musujime was in the same situation. Both had attacked the exact same spots with the exact same weapons. All one of them needed to do to guess at the damage done to the other was to imagine her own.

“…Now you’ve…done it. But…I suppose…I can’t bring myself to hate…such a childish reprisal.”

Musujime was sitting on the luggage by the window. She was forcing herself to appear relaxed—either as a combat bluff or because her pride was making her.

Whichever the case, neither of them was going to have a very easy time walking around.

But each of them had an alternate means of moving around.

“Well, this isn’t very good,” said Shirai with a smirk. “If they make too much of a fuss, my sagacious and impulsive big sister will come running straight here.”

“!!”

“Your personality would never let you run from someone you could beat without doing anything, would it? No, I’d thought your methodology involved a lot of inflicting a lot of pointless wounds and feeling superior about it, then leaving, like you did with me.”

Come to think of it, not once did Musujime attack Mikoto during their fight at the building under construction. Staying on the defensive and never launching a counterattack was proof she knew that she’d never be able to hold up in a square fight.

That meant that as soon as Mikoto Misaka arrived here, Musujime would lose.

The wound-covered Shirai didn’t need to strain herself to beat Musujime. If she bought enough time for Mikoto to get here, she could get a second victory.

Musujime acted brave even when presented with that truth. “Hah. You seem to be pretty worried about Tokiwadai’s ace. But even the Railgun isn’t all perfect. Take Academy City’s number-one strongest esper—she’d die for sure against him.”

“Oh, I wasn’t under the impression that either of us could reach that place anyway—the Level Five world.” Shirai smirked. She spoke her self-defeating words with pride—as though it were proof that she really was worried about Mikoto Misaka.

Musujime couldn’t help but scowl and click her tongue. Is that why she made all the noise…? Not only did she pull a surprise attack on me, she created another victory condition by letting that Railgun know where she was…! In that case…She started thinking immediately. What would decide her own victory wasn’t whether she could take down the Judgment officer in front of her. It was whether Railgun chased her down or not. If she decided not to deal with Kuroko Shirai, and used Move Point to escape immediately—

“It will not work,” declared Shirai, interrupting her thoughts. “You can’t get away for good. I’m sure you know that! You and I are very much alike, you know. In this situation, with these wounds, in this place, with our abilities, with Big Sister following us…So what will you do? Do you think an esper with the same ability as you would be unable to predict where you would be going?”

“?!…You…You little…?!”

She lost it. She lost her cool so much that she couldn’t put more than two words together. Shirai smiled very thinly at her. “Come, now, do you think I would be bluffing? If you do, then please, abandon that optimistic thought right this instant. I have prior information from the data banks. I have experience from crossing blades with you before. Plus, I have a similar mental structure as an esper with the same ability. My gut instincts have already given me quite a few pieces of supplemental information.”

It was at that moment when Musujime finally figured it out. What was the meaning of all the actions Kuroko Shirai had taken up until now? She stabbed me in the same places with the corkscrew and the darts…to put me into the same situation as her?! She was making my movement patterns easier to predict by compensating a little bit for the difference between us!

They had similar abilities, similar handicaps, and similar thoughts—Shirai was trying to read ahead of time how Awaki Musujime would move. I can’t let this stupid girl do this, she thought, gritting her teeth. She could use Move Point to get out of here, but her destination would be exposed for certain. She couldn’t even be relieved if she warped to the other side of the world. There was no way. With just one teleport, her stomach hurt so much, it felt like it was being strangled. She couldn’t stand it. She had finally prepared herself for death and used Move Point on herself, and this stupid girl could nullify that as many times as she wanted. Three or four teleports in succession were the absolute limit of her body anyway. She didn’t want to waste her precious warps. Which meant…

“Yes, you have just one means of victory: to crush me before Big Sister arrives,” she announced with an air of composure. “I, however, have two. Either I defeat you directly or I wait until Big Sister appears…Please, must I declare which of us is in the dominant position?”

That in itself was the declaration, and Musujime found herself surprised. She felt like the choices she’d had were being narrowed down, picked off one at a time. She shuddered—but then shook her head.

No.

She figured it out.

This Judgment officer wasn’t making room for Railgun to intervene.

If she wanted to get her involved, she would have teleported her here right along with her.

Musujime smiled a bit. Once she figured that out, all sorts of other facts followed in its wake. Perhaps knowing her opponent’s thoughts had backfired on her attempt to set up those artificial conditions.

Her mind cooled, and she began to regain her calm. “I swear…What a strange twist of fate has brought us together. Let me get this straight—you gave up not one but two chances to win?”

“…”

“The first chance was not bringing Railgun here. And the second was this attack. If you weren’t so hell-bent on making this a game, you would have just killed me by crushing my brain or my heart or something. If all that really was for those cute ramblings of your Railgun, then you really are a sad person.”

After she’d asked the question, Shirai’s body had shaken a little. Musujime knew why. She had the same sorts of wounds, after all. The damage they caused was severe. Plus, Shirai had been chasing her like that for hours now. Simply closing up the wounds wouldn’t be enough to replenish her lost stamina. She was more exhausted than Musujime was. Musujime had just been injured now, but Shirai had been running with those injuries, so they had a different amount of stamina.

So she smiled—at her own dominant position and at the recklessness of her opponent. “How pathetic. You could have just compromised on your second hope. Why bother trying to go for your first one? Is your life really worth putting in that much danger?” she asked, still seated on the luggage.

“To protect the world that Railgun selfishly thinks is real…”

Kuroko Shirai looked back at Awaki Musujime’s face. There was a strong, forceful light in her eyes, despite the fact that she was sitting on the table because her legs couldn’t hold her up and her arms were dangling at her sides without energy. Both those things made it very clear how few options she had, but she wasn’t making a false show of courage. She was just staring straight into the eyes of her enemy.

Even if it made her look stupid, she answered without hesitation.

“…I want to protect it.”

To make matters worse, she was running on fumes—and she was pouring the last of her energy into this.

“Why wouldn’t I…want to protect it? Of course I do. She may be selfish, and she may not ever spare a thought for our circumstances, but Big Sister wishes for something: a situation where neither you nor I would have to do any of this. It’s so selfish and stupid, isn’t it? She…Big Sister really believes she can settle everything just by getting everyone together, punching them in the face, and lecturing us. Even now that everything has gone to heck in a handbasket. I am actually considering trying to save you, even after everything you’ve done!”

Shirai smiled. It wasn’t a mean one, just a normal one. “Big Sister is the kind of person who could look at this situation and say she didn’t want us to fight, that she would appreciate it if we stopped trying to kill each other. There is no way Big Sister would feel nothing after imagining what I must look like now. She could blow you to pieces in five seconds if she felt like it—and that’s exactly why she doesn’t. She hopes there’s some other way. Even though she could end things instantly with a coin and the flick of a thumb, even after all this, all she does is hope she can work things out and bear by herself all the pointless suffering that brings.”

“…”

“Did you think Kuroko Shirai would refuse such a ludicrously infantile wish? By catching you by surprise and digging out your brains with a metal dart?! By bringing this to a swift end steeped in death and fresh blood?! All for my own self-preservation?! Do you think I am so unrefined I would get mud all over a doormat someone else laid out for me?!”

As Shirai shouted, she slowly lifted herself from the table. Her legs trembled but were firm. She was declaring that now was when things got serious. “I will grant you a return to your normal life. Just as someone, somewhere, wanted, and just as I’ve agreed with them.”

“Then if I betrayed that, I suppose I would win,” answered Awaki Musujime, still sitting on the luggage. She was declaring that she didn’t want to go along with any of that.

2

It is so simple in the end, thought Shirai. Both she and Musujime were in very bad shape from their injuries. Even though she’d closed up the wounds, her stamina wouldn’t return immediately. Just one shot—yes, just one light blow to tip over the opponent would be the end of it. With as many stabbing wounds as Shirai had, just ending up on the floor could potentially make them open back up.

If this turns into an all-out battle…I’d have about ten seconds at best.

She didn’t need to be hit by an attack—just moving her limbs with all her energy would make her cuts open up. Nor did she have much stamina left in the first place. Losing any more blood would immediately put her into an unconscious state.

Musujime’s power was overwhelming. If not for the condition stating teleport espers couldn’t be moved with teleportation abilities, she’d probably just have warped Shirai into a wall or the ground and been done with it.

They stared each other down.

Ten meters between them.

Commotion could be heard outside the window.

There was one ringing sound, as though part of the framework of the building Mikoto had recklessly fired upon had collapsed.

And that was their signal to start.

Shirai brought her fist down on the table she’d been sitting on. With the sensation of ripping flesh, it shattered a plate. Grabbing the sharp pieces, she set up her teleportation. The ability made every attack sure to kill—she just needed to cut out of her target from the inside. Defense was impossible even by creating a wall, since the ability sent an object straight from one point to another.

In the same moment, Musujime activated Move Point.

Matching the movement of her flashlight, a silver tray shot toward Shirai, trying to hit her directly. It may have only been a tray, but a direct attack from Move Point could easily penetrate skin. It would be no less than instant death if it hit.

Shirai, however, moved before that.

She warped her body but a footstep’s length to the side. The silver tray guillotine materialized in empty air and clattered to the ground.

Musujime had vast power, but she had the habit of swinging her flashlight whenever she triggered it, perhaps to get the timing right. Shirai would have a hard time taking the opportunity to launch a counterattack, since it ran the risk of a mutual death, but it made evasion a nonissue.

“Damn.” Musujime frowned a bit. At the flick of her flashlight, five or six tables around them vanished and reappeared in front of her. They stacked atop themselves and fanned out, forming a giant shield that concealed her body.

She messed up…? thought Shirai. No, that isn’t possible! They’re to conceal the fact she’s moving out of the way…!! She’d fallen for this trick once already. Coordinate attacks sent things from point to point, so the slightest differential in the target’s coordinates would cause the attack to miss. Musujime had built a wall so that she wouldn’t know she’d moved herself. In that case!!

Shirai teleported.

With the plate shards in her hands, she moved her entire body to a targeted location.

After she landed on the other side of the wall of tables, she prepared the plate shards again. Correcting aim!

If the wall obstructed her vision, she only had to jump to the other side of it. Then she would recalculate her target’s coordinates, letting her accurately warp the plate shards to Musujime’s location.

Awaki Musujime couldn’t use Move Point on her own body at the drop of a hat.

Shirai lined up her shot, hoping for a quick conclusion…

Whoosh.

She heard something whipping through the air.

Musujime was standing just a step away from her. She had the heavy luggage handle in both hands and was twisting her body to try and bash Shirai in the face with the centrifugal force. With both her hands full, she held her flashlight in her mouth.

She could see it in the girl’s face—she’d predicted Shirai would do this.

She looks relieved her extra insurance paid off…!!

With the corner of the luggage quickly approaching, Shirai teleported the sharp pieces in her hand to coordinates where they would sever the squared handle on the luggage.

The luggage flew in a different direction. Musujime’s hands, now holding only the handle, swung around, with surprise on her face.

Now’s my…chance!! Shirai poured all of her energy into her wounded right arm and tightened her little hand into a fist. It would be faster just to punch her at this range than it would be to go through the calculations for her ability.

Unfortunately…

Musujime jutted out her jaw a little bit, the flashlight still in her mouth.

“!!” Shirai was alarmed, but her thoughts couldn’t go fast enough to activate her ability in response to Musujime’s unexpected action. She immediately took a step back and watched as one color filled her vision. White. The color of the luggage, she realized, stunned. Musujime had called the flung-away luggage back to Shirai—without depleting its momentum, just correcting its direction to end up in her face.

If she hadn’t taken a step back, the newly appeared luggage might have consumed her head. But, having evaded it, the heavy, fully materialized case flew at her face with force.

She’d realized it too late.

There was a loud thud as the heavy strike hit her. She bent over backward at the impact; she couldn’t keep herself from falling. Her skin all tightened up, and she felt something warm bursting from the wounds on her shoulder and side. Her fist flailed, hitting nothing. Opposing her will to endure it, her feet flew out from under her.

Just as she lost her balance, Shirai teleported.

Her body vanished, then reappeared, still about to fall over, but this time behind Musujime. She used her falling momentum to whip her elbow around and slam her in the back with it. Musujime shot toward the pile of tables in front of her. Shirai hit the floor before seeing that happen, and the impact this time didn’t fail to reopen all of her wounds.

Guh…agh…!!

She rallied the last of her strength and grabbed something nearby on the floor to end things. It was the severed luggage handle. Sharpness was irrelevant for Shirai’s teleportation attacks. This…is where it ends!! she shouted to herself, setting up the targeting equations at the same time to warp the handle she held.

…?!

But she couldn’t use her power.

The weapon in her hands didn’t move a bit.

The intense pain and panic had shattered her concentration, preventing the activation of her ability.

“N-no…!!” The fact made her panic even more. If only the pain got in the way of her ability, too, she hoped optimistically, looking over at Awaki Musujime.

But what she heard was another whoosh. And what she saw was the pile of tables Musujime had been shoved into disappearing. And also that she’d pulled the flashlight out of her mouth like a kebab.

Shirai felt a chill and shuddered. She immediately tried to roll out of the way, but above her, gravity pulled all those tables down at her like rain.

“…!!”

Still lying on her face, she set her hands on the back of her head to protect it. The heavy, blunt attacks showered her, striking flesh, resounding inside her wounds. She couldn’t even writhe in pain with all the weight coming down on her.

Her narrowing field of vision showed Musujime, still down, kicking off the floor to avoid falling victim to the same rain of tables Shirai had. The darts piercing Musujime opened her wounds farther, and she screamed. Still, though, she used Move Point to get the handleless luggage back over to her, then, leaning against it, looked to Shirai.

Slowly, slowly, Musujime ran the tip of her flashlight over a nearby chair.

“Shirai, if you don’t dodge, you’ll die,” she said with a broad grin. She dragged her flashlight over the chair and, like an airplane coming off a runway, thrust its rounded edge straight in Shirai’s direction.

“!!” Shirai paled, but it wasn’t like she could use Teleport anymore.

A chair appeared right next to the trembling Shirai via Move Point. It crushed a table, bringing the pile of them covering her tumbling down like a pyramid of playing cards. But it had only changed its shape—it was still preventing her from moving.

“Hmm. Considering you didn’t move even then, it would seem you really can’t draw up the teleportation calculations.” The tension in Musujime’s face began to loosen.

Then she laughed.

Despite the scattered blood from her open wounds hitting her cheek, she laughed.

She continued on, her tone jovial. “Hey, Shirai. Kuroko Shirai. Have you heard this story? Sheesh, I hear all sorts of things being close to them.” Musujime checked where the metal darts and corkscrew were stabbing her, and then, with a deep breath and the swing of her flashlight, each one of them vanished and reappeared in front of her face. The darts and corkscrew succumbed to gravity and clanked to the floor. “A long time ago, there was a powerful esper who ran into a certain organization.”

Musujime stood and backed up. Treating the wounds causing her pain seemed to be her top priority. She looked around, glancing here and there, searching for anything she could use as first aid. The tube of coagulant Shirai threw at her was on the floor, but Musujime kicked it away out of pride.

She’s going…to treat herself…here…? And expose herself to me? I mean, she can’t discard the possibility that Big Sister is headed this way…Shirai was dubious, but Musujime’s expression looked rather relaxed.

Having taken the darts out of her body, fresh blood spurted from her wounds. Still, the smile on her face remained. That was gruesome in its own way. “The organization wanted to gain great power by somehow acquiring more of those powerful yet rare espers. So they decided to try and clone the esper. Do you know what the result of it was?”

Kuroko Shirai couldn’t move. She managed to stick a hand out of a gap between tables, but flailing it wouldn’t let her move the tables or attack her enemy. Musujime seemed quite satisfied at this as she tore a piece off the end of her skirt and wrapped it around a wound on her thigh.

Mikoto Misaka hadn’t come yet. With how loud the battle was and how many guests and employees they’d chased out of the place, she would have surely noticed. Had she just not heard it? Or had she decided it wasn’t related to the remnant? Shirai didn’t want to call her here, but Mikoto’s absence was quite a worry in and of itself. Shirai didn’t think it the case, but perhaps there were still a few people from Musujime’s group slowing her down.

But there was something stranger than all that. Why does…Musujime look so relaxed…? She cannot possibly think she could win against Big Sister like that…

In contrast to her dubiousness, Musujime spoke like she had a good bit of leeway. “It went terribly. The poor lambs they created didn’t even have one percent of the original’s power. Even one percent is enough to be used in the real world, but even with ten or twenty thousand of them in a group, they couldn’t hold a candle to the powerful esper.”

Soaked with blood, Musujime tore more fabric from her skirt and wrapped it around the cut on her calf. Shirai decided, without really knowing, that she’d wounded Musujime’s pride enough that she unconsciously felt the need to tell a long-winded story to secure a more decisive victory.

Musujime’s skirt was already short, and now her underwear was exposed; she gave a thin smile anyway. “You know, Shirai. Children made through cloning technology have the exact same genetics. Even their brains are constructed exactly like the original. So then why is there such a difference in their abilities?”

Her voice was brimming with overconfidence. It made Shirai want to barf, but if she kept ignoring her, Musujime would immediately lose interest and run away somewhere. With the luggage. “Wh-what a stupid…piece of fiction. Are you not aware of how Academy City’s schools are assigned rankings…?”

The way abilities came into their own depended on the way a person was raised, even if they were the same person. That fact gave birth to all sorts of ability development theories, and the schools themselves started to be ranked with monikers such as “excellent” and “elite.”

Musujime didn’t seem to be particularly aggravated. “Oh, no. Each created individual was artificially put through the same talent-blooming process the original had gone through. And still, they couldn’t catch up to the result they wanted. If the same brain didn’t produce the same result, then don’t you think there’s something other than simple brain construction that relates to how abilities work? And if we could find those other things, wouldn’t that mean we could give processing units that weren’t human brains abilities? What I’m asking is…” Disregarding her own blood flying to her cheek, abruptly stopping her first aid, she said:

“Does the manifestation of abilities even need a human brain?”

Shirai gasped.

Ideas based on quantum theory were deeply involved in development of abilities in Academy City. The abilities conducted measurement and analysis of reality using purposely distorted processing and decision-making dubbed a “personal reality.” Then, depending on the results, they would achieve the creation of some phenomenon by unnaturally altering the probabilities of the infinitesimally microscopic world.

“What…are you talking about?” But Shirai still couldn’t help asking the question. “The curricula in Academy City…They’re the culmination of brain research, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes, but you see…The processing for all these phenomena—the observation and analysis of a target, I mean—do you even need to be human to do it?” she asked, seeming delighted. “For example, even plants can measure light. Some leaves and flowers close up at night. Can you say those kinds of plants aren’t measuring the world?”

Musujime tried to close the wound on her shoulder, but her skirt was already an unusable mess. Instead, she removed the winter blazer she wore over her shoulders, tore off a piece of the long sleeve, and used it as a bandage.

This isn’t good, thought Shirai. Once Musujime finished her stopgap treatment, she’d do something. But the only means Shirai had of hoping to hamper whatever that something was was to attack with her words. “Th-that’s absurd. Do you even hear yourself talking? If reacting to light is all you needed, then you’re saying photographs and posters faded by ultraviolet light can observe the world. The basis of abilities is what to do with that information. That’s why Academy City goes through the whole personal reality business, which is different for everyone. What’s special isn’t our five senses, it’s our ability to process things.”

Musujime didn’t show much emotion at those words, either. She took the belt her flashlight had been on and tried to wrap up the last wound on her side with it. Unfortunately, the thick belt made of metal plates didn’t allow that. Instead, she removed the bandage-shaped pink fabric around her chest and wrapped that around her side. Despite them being the same sex, Musujime didn’t appear to have any misgivings about exposing her breasts to a complete stranger. The most she felt was a little bit of apology as she swept up her winter blazer with the torn sleeve to hide her naked chest. “You’re saying you can’t use abilities without a high degree of mental activity?”

“Yes,” answered Shirai, though she felt a discomposure in her heart. She knew she was being led on. The lack of argument from Musujime proved it.

“Then what about ants? They move in groups, using mass psychology to manufacture colonies and secure food. They receive honey from other organisms called aphids, and they repel ladybugs—it’s a simple symbiotic relationship. A primitive form of reasoning, if you will…If you think their mental structure is irregular, then you’re denying the way people think who are basically the same as you. They just have a minor difference in level,” declared Musujime, making sure the cloth on her wound wouldn’t loosen.

“You’re just splitting hairs now…”

“Splitting hairs? Even they have a society with labor divided according to physical structure—king ants, queen ants, worker ants. Are you trying to discard their signal-based communication abilities that use their antennae or bioluminescent organs depending on the species, as well? If you are, then what exactly does a humanlike high degree of mental activity mean? Even insects have ethics and morals. Parent ants will protect their own eggs just like the rest of us.” Awaki Musujime smiled very, very, very thinly. “Even ants can measure phenomena.” She paused. “Them and us. Is it up to you to decide which of us perceives these phenomena correctly? How can you say for sure they would never be able to use abilities?”

Kuroko Shirai felt a chill go down her whole body. A single shiver, threatening denial of her very foundation as an esper. She looked at the thing Awaki Musujime was leaning on.

“Don’t you think there could be plenty of things that are as good or better than humans? If it doesn’t seem that way to you, then perhaps it is human hubris.” Musujime smiled slowly, then stroked the luggage with a fingertip. “If you just changed your perspective slightly, you might learn how close such a thing really is. Yes, how extremely close it is.”

The surface of the luggage gleamed sharply with reflected light.

The remnant.

The silicon-corundum processing core.

The Tree Diagram.

An artificial brain more efficient than humans’, larger than humans’, more complex than humans’…and yet slightly less flexible.

“Kuroko Shirai, you know how we sometimes say things have a mind of their own? If you’re so stuck in your opinion that humans reign supreme, then I must say I’m a little disappointed in you.”

Measurement of nature even ants were capable of.

Supernatural abilities that could manifest as long as one had a “mind.”

If a human wasn’t absolutely required for it…

…then, then that, would…

Kuroko Shirai stared at the luggage Awaki Musujime was leaning against. “You…can’t be serious. Are you saying abilities like ours have manifested deep down in that titan? Do you seriously think that? That’s nonsense—you’re claiming machines have minds.”

But still.

But still, Shirai began to wonder. Was the efficient system called the “human mind” really necessary just to observe and analyze reality in the first place?

Musujime still didn’t get angry. “Well, yes. That might be going too far. Machines are just machines, after all. Even if we took an AI that could adjust for camera shake and light exposure for a digital camera, for example, and presented it with some phenomenon, all the processing chip would be able to do is arrange the pixels of optical information on a screen. Data processing goes in an entirely different direction than the measurement of phenomenon in the first place.” Her face actually looked relaxed. “In addition, it’s true that no forms of animal or plant life capable of using abilities have been discovered, either. We don’t actually know whether such a thing exists, but…” She brushed the luggage again. “If we have this, we can predict it. Using the ultimate simulation machine, capable of perfectly reproducing any phenomenon, would show anything and everything: the possibility of such creatures existing in our world and the progress of evolution of creatures ten thousand years from now. That is why I will assemble this remnant and acquire the Tree Diagram. Then I will ask it for every possibility under the sun—about whether any individual thing could ever use abilities in place of a human.”

There was a strange light in her eyes. That light is called delusion, thought Shirai. “So that’s why…you contacted an outside organization…?”

“Yes. The remnant may be valuable on its own, but I can’t repair it by myself. I needed a group with the technical skills, the knowledge, and this particular objective.” Awaki Musujime smiled.

Shirai found it difficult to believe that organization was wallowing in Musujime’s ideas. They probably had an objective of their own. Plenty of people would want the Tree Diagram if they saw its specs.

“Shirai, what did it feel like when you first gained that ability?”

Shirai couldn’t move, but she could sure as hell talk. From underneath the tables, she replied as if the answer were obvious. “Wh-who cares? The adults in the room got pretty excited about it, but as the person who got the ability, it wasn’t surprising. It was just normal to me.”

“That’s right.” Musujime paused. “I was honestly pretty scared,” she said as though recalling events in her childhood. “I was afraid of what I could do with this ability. And when my fears were confirmed, it got even more frightening. You have to know something, Shirai. I was more scared of what I had gained than anything else in the world. I could kill someone with so much as a silly thought.” At the moment, the girl no longer trembled over the past. “But I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Only we have these powers. They’ll be researched and analyzed in some lab we’ll never see and go on to be useful to the world. That’s why I had to keep this power. Somehow I managed to endure it, and yet…”

Musujime smiled—her grin slowly cutting across her face like melted ice cream.

“If I’m not the only one with this power, then I wouldn’t have ever needed to have it in the first place. Hypothetically, if the user didn’t need to be human, then why do they give powers to humans? If it didn’t need to be me, then why did they give it to me? Shirai, you stopped thinking about it, believing it was natural. Leaving those adults aside, the other esper children with me before thought the same way, you know. They used the unfinished building as a shield, but they were the ones who first proposed this. Before they lost consciousness, I smiled and just told them to leave it to me.”

“…” Shirai frequently heard stories about Level Zero children who couldn’t get a power no matter how hard they tried turning into delinquents and gangsters. But this was the same thing. Even for those who happened to gain powerful abilities, some wouldn’t be able to get used to it. Supernatural abilities were like the giant monsters in movies. If you wanted to live with others, you had to always be walking on your tiptoes, always meticulously careful. If you took a big, free step, buildings would be destroyed. In fact, being able to go all-out with powers on the level of Railgun was more unusual. They lived a life demanding constant self-control against outside pressure. In a way, they were essentially bound in handcuffs and shackles.

“Don’t you want to know? Did we really have to gain these powers? Don’t you want to know for sure if there was a good reason or not?”

Musujime spread her hands gently—as though she were beckoning to Shirai.

“You’re no exception, are you? You’ve hurt someone with your own ability before. And you must have wondered why you had to come into such powers.”

As if to embrace her—as if to suck her in.

As if she hadn’t finished Shirai off yet because she wanted to say this.

“But I understand. You’re like me. When you close your eyes, you think about how you’ve hurt others. And that’s why…”

As if she were singing. As if she were whispering into the ear of a loved one.

As if Musujime had no real intention of killing Kuroko Shirai in the first place.

“I understand your pain. More than anyone. And because of that, I know how to acquire a method to take it away. How about it, Shirai? I invite you to learn the truth with me.”

Her expression betrayed how she’d wanted to go on such a long-winded tirade, despite running the risk of Mikoto Misaka arriving.

Maybe what Musujime said was something every esper would have to question.

As someone who had fought in this city with supernatural abilities, there was something she would have had to consider.

How skillfully could she hurt an opponent with her power?

How much damage could she do with it?

Would it hurt? Would they suffer? Could it break them? Could it stop them? Could it mow them down? Could it send them flying?

And after all of that was over, she would feel a sudden chill.

Why did she have something like this?

So she spoke out.

Did that chill back then really have to happen to her?

Why don’t I contact an outside organization and rebuild the Tree Diagram to find the answers?

Shirai gritted her teeth.

The reason she was given her power.

The reason it may have been fine for her not to have been given it.

She felt some kind of foundation she’d created to support her mind waver, and said:

“I’m going to have to refuse that proposition.”

Crushed under a pile of tables though she was, she cast a sharp glare at Musujime and spoke with a low, intimidating voice.

“I was wondering what kind of bombastic remarks you’d make after causing this much trouble. I am pretty disappointed. Big Sister does always claim how petty villains are.”

“What…was that…?”

“Oh, please, don’t get so surprised over something so obvious. Did you think your drunken logic would win Kuroko Shirai over to your side? You’ve seemed so relaxed this whole time. You weren’t under the impression I would sympathize with you, then convince Big Sister on top of that, were you? Oh, or could it be that you just wanted to feel my cold eyes on you and shudder?

“Besides,” she added, “animals? Evolution? Possibilities? Hah! You think they are important? Let’s say you did some selective breeding on little tiny ants and got one to have an esper ability. How would that change anything for us?”

“Don’t you understand? If other things were able to be given supernatural abilities, we wouldn’t have had to turn into teleporting esper monsters! And if we didn’t have to have such dangerous abilities, then—”

“Utter nonsense, if I may be so bold. I was asking you, regardless of what the possibilities are now, how it would change those of us who are already espers.”

“…”

“If you had been pursuing the possibility for future generations, then I may have been simply moved to tears. But what will come of presenting a different possibility to those of us who have already become espers?

“And besides,” she prefaced, firmly grabbing the floor with the hand poking out of the tables, “saying that espers hurt people is already evidence of a sore loser. If I had your power, I would help fix bridges or something, not stopping until the broken bridge was fully repaired. I would escort people trapped in the underground mall up to the surface. If you want to exert your powers to your heart’s content, then go right ahead. Just so long as you do not misuse them.”

With a creak, the pile of tables shook slightly. Kuroko Shirai gritted her teeth, trying to rally all the strength left in her wound-covered body, and said, “From my point of view, gibberish and sophistry are too good to call what you’re saying. You’re scared of power? You don’t want it because you’ll hurt someone? That’s what your mouth is saying, but which one of us is the idiot injuring people like this?! If you want to know whether what you’re doing is right or not, then look at my wounds! They’re your answer!!”

The many tables crushing the girl swayed and lolled. Her feet dug into the floor. She strained every muscle in her body for strength, despite the blood flowing from her wounds.

“Do you honestly believe that having a dangerous power will make people think you’re dangerous? Have you ever thought seriously about how great power comes with great responsibility? You, madam, are an idiot! Don’t you dare think Big Sister or I got where we are today with such ease!! We all put a lot of time and effort into thinking as hard as we can about what we can do with our powers before acting! Only after we acknowledged that did we create a place for ourselves today!!”

The mountain of tables wobbled and shook violently. Kuroko Shirai turned up the power, trying to fling away the heavy pressure coming down on her.

“Take a look at how Big Sister is running around outside if you like! If she felt like going all-out with her Railgun, she could settle this paltry problem in a minute! The only reason she discarded the simplest option is because she doesn’t want it to end with a bloody tragedy!! She’s putting herself in danger because of it!! I want to help her because I’m her ally, but even you, her enemy, are stupid enough to seriously feel like you want to save her, too! That is exactly why I call her my big sister!!”

The wobbling and creaking changed into a deafening clatter.

It started to fall.

All that weight holding her down started to fall.

“All you’re really saying is that you’re an esper with a special talent and everyone else is just part of the mediocre masses—running away with your dirty, high-and-mighty mind-set exposed! I will now proceed to beat some sense into those rotten guts of yours. Once someone so mediocre beats you, you’ll be forced to admit how mediocre you are! And I will send you straight back to the mediocre masses you came from!!”

Kuroko Shirai stood up.

Her clothes and body were sticky with the flowing blood from her opened wounds. She offhandedly grabbed a tall floor lamp nearby and held it at her side. Her hands dangling down couldn’t use teleportation anymore.

But…

So what? said she.

I will beat you regardless of our abilities, said her expression.

Silently, she declared that she wouldn’t be defeating her enemy because she had an amazing skill…

…but that she was standing up to her with a more powerful reason.

Kuroko Shirai inched along.

Forward.

One step, two steps, three.

All she did was wobble along, unable to maintain her balance, unable to even bring the lamp up in front of her, dragging it behind her instead.

And yet her vigor forced Musujime to move back.

A tiny yelp escaped her lips.

Shirai was strong.

Fundamentally strong in a completely different way, regardless of whether she had an ability or not.

Awaki Musujime’s body, the blazer with one torn sleeve held to her chest, fell backward and tried to retreat. She could have moved more efficiently by using her Move Point, but she had forgotten about it. She couldn’t set up the calculations amid all her panic and fear. Her eyes were no longer looking at reality—only the slowly walking image of Kuroko Shirai.

—I will lose.

Awaki Musujime had no grounds for thinking that.

—I will lose. It’s not logic. It’s absolute. I will lose.

Kuroko Shirai had already arrived in front of her. Musujime looked up, still sitting on the floor, and saw Shirai looking down at her instead with a glare.

Shirai’s hand slowly rose.

She held the lamp like a baseball bat, lifting it unsteadily above her twin tails.

It was a great weapon.

Musujime may have been a Move Point user, but she only had the body of a high school student.

There was a faint clunk.

Before she realized it, the flashlight in her hands had dropped to the ground.

I will lose, she thought.

Awaki Musujime, the Move Point esper, could never win against Kuroko Shirai the teleport esper.

However.

However.

However.

Upon further thought, there might have been one thing Kuroko Shirai should have been cautious about from the beginning.

Just because Musujime was an esper didn’t mean her power was her only weapon.

She might have caught on to this as soon as Shirai knew Musujime had contacted those men from the outside organization.

Cooperating with them meant it was possible they’d given her a weapon.

A deafening thud rang out.

Kuroko Shirai, the floor lamp raised high above her head—in other words, with her whole body exposed—slowly looked down at her waist.

A dark red hole had opened in the gut of her uniform, and a strangely colored liquid was dripping from it. A moment later, the window behind her displaying the night view of the city shattered into tiny pieces.

With the air conditioner’s effectiveness dampened, the warm night air came inside.

Shirai’s body tilted backward.

It seemed like the lamp’s weight had gotten the better of her as she collapsed straight to the floor.

“Hah…” Awaki Musujime laughed, her right hand trembling hard. White smoke billowed up from the pistol her hand was holding. “Ha-ha…”

She had managed to take down Kuroko Shirai as she came for her.

But at the same time, Musujime was forced to admit one thing.

It had nothing to do with their abilities.

Until now, she had thought the fact that she was hurting people was a natural side effect of her monstrous power. But it had nothing to do with Move Point. Awaki Musujime was capable of hurting people even without her ability. The evil one, in the end, wasn’t her ability—but her.

The evil one, in the end…

Musujime’s lips dried. Her tongue dried. Her throat dried. She had tried to say that out loud, but her voice didn’t come out. So instead, she delivered her conclusion in wordless silence.

The root cause of everything.

The one who had been hurting others nearby.

The source of the red color scattering around before her.

It was her own weakness—for finding solace by telling herself it was her unfortunate ability’s fault.

Awaki Musujime thought back.

Back to the espers who had believed in the same thing she had. Her allies, afraid of their own terrible powers, fighting to search for whether or not they really needed to have them. The people who had begged her to use them as shields in order to protect her from Mikoto Misaka’s lightning attacks.

Musujime believed that she was the same as them.

But her belief was different from the answer she’d found.

She…

…had stood with them only through deceiving them.

Even if she used the remnant to acquire the Tree Diagram, even if she investigated the possibility of powers nobody knew existed, everything had gone exactly according to Musujime’s plan.

The most basic part of her would never be changed again.

The part of her capable of hurting others—it would be with her forever.

“Hah, ah…ah, gah. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?!”

She cradled her head in her hands, bent over backward, and let out a scream.

She had flung away the blazer she was holding, not aware of the trivial fact that her top half was naked and exposed.

With her index finger still on the handgun’s trigger, even though she could accidentally fire it again—she tore at her own head, unaware even of such a simple prospect. She shouted and roared, her face muscles twisting and distorting, as if to eject everything pent up in the bottom of her stomach.

Bang!! came a deafening roar.

As Musujime sat on the floor, tearing at her hair, in her violence she had accidentally pulled the trigger. It happened to be pointing upward, and sparks flew from its muzzle, launching a lead bullet toward the ceiling. It bounced off, without piercing through, then struck the flashlight on the floor, bending it in half and sending it flying. However, she didn’t bother to look at something so minor.

“Gah, ah!! Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

Musujime, her face distorted like a beast, pointed her gun at Shirai.

But though she pulled the trigger, she didn’t feel the recoil from the internal springs so peculiar to firing a gun. Only an empty click of pulling air remained in her fingers.

“Uuh, ah. Ah, ah?”

Musujime’s head twisted.

Glancing at her right hand revealed only that it was in the shape of holding a gun—the actual gun wasn’t there.

There was a soft clank from far away.

The handgun suddenly dropped to the floor fifteen meters to her side.

Move Point.

Of course, Awaki Musujime hadn’t been trying to warp her handgun. It had flown from her hand on its own, without her thinking about it. It only took her a moment’s thought to know why.

And that moment, her ability went off spontaneously.

There was a loud roar!!

Everything within five meters of Musujime—chairs, tables, forks, knives, decorative plants, menus, paper napkins, dishes, luggage—was blown away. All the objects crossed through space and warped outside in a neat circle with her at its center. As those tables and chairs in the circle warped right above her, there were many more loud bangs as they crushed other objects they teleported into. Teleportation didn’t work on other espers who used that type of ability. Without that rule, Shirai might have been blown above the circle as well.

“…”

Musujime, oddly expressionless, pulled her index finger lightly.

The handgun returned to her hand in that moment, but there was a spoon caught through the middle of the barrel. It seemed like after she’d teleported the handgun, she’d teleported a spoon right onto it. Even an amateur could tell it was no longer usable.

She looked up to see all the objects above her in the circle repeatedly moving and warping like a tempest. The process overlaid object with object, crushed some and destroyed others, then fed their fragments back into the storm.

In any case, if she couldn’t use it, she couldn’t use it. She angrily threw the gun to the side without setting the safety. Brrrack! The gun ruptured from the inside, flinging pieces everywhere, but Musujime was no longer paying attention to it.

The circular tempest surrounding Musujime suddenly stopped.

The objects and fragments continually teleporting around her all ground to a halt and fell to the floor at once.

“I’ll kill you…”

A low, twisted, distorted voice.

Sweat gathered on Musujime’s chest like fat sizzling, being fried off a piece of meat.

“I will kill you! You, you!! How dare you break me like this!! If it wasn’t for you, I would have still gotten through this!!”

Shirai, collapsed on the floor, smiled weakly at the absurd excuse. Musujime crawled over on top of her with a face of pure rage, perhaps having decided to strangle her.

But suddenly, she looked back up. “Hah. Ah-ha-ha!! How disappointing, Shirai!” She could hear Anti-Skill police car sirens from afar—they had noticed the commotion. “None of this I’ll take care of you next time business. I will kill you no matter what. I can put an end to you somewhere far away, wherever I like. Because I am superior, and you’re no more than a failure.”

Musujime clicked her tongue and wobbled to her feet. “…The developers say any more than one thousand kilograms puts a strain on my body, but with Move Point I can teleport up to 4,520 kilograms. I can drive you into here even while running away. You and the whole building will crumble down to the ground.” She spoke in a low, low voice. “Heh-heh, I’ll break it all for you. You broke me, so I need to repay the favor, Shirai. I’ll crush this entire building under you. I wonder how badly that will mangle your body?”

There was no reply to Musujime’s voice. Shirai was looking up at the ceiling as if already dead. Musujime spat on the floor. Then, looking around, she picked up the blazer with the torn-off sleeve, slung it around her back, then located the luggage with the broken handle—

“Oh…I’m sorry, did you still need that?”

“!” Musujime turned around to the voice to find Kuroko Shirai laughing. Despite all her cuts, bruises, and wounds, her lips turned up in sarcasm, as if to say they weren’t enough to stop her.

Musujime kicked Shirai in the side as hard as she could. She didn’t stay to watch the blood spurting from the girl; instead, she grabbed the luggage, eyes bloodshot. With her objective and her methodology no longer aligned, she even ignored the consequences and the future.

Her face still bent out of shape, Awaki Musujime vanished into thin air along with the luggage.

Kuroko Shirai, however, couldn’t use Teleport anymore.

If she stayed here like this, she’d be hit with Musujime’s attack that was soon to come.

Maximum weight of 4,520 kilograms.

Apparently, using her full power harmed her own body, but in exchange, she could crush both Shirai and the floor under her. And it wouldn’t stop there. If she destroyed the floor, then the entire building was sure to collapse like a failed block-tower game.

She had to get away.

Anyone else would have come to the same conclusion, but Shirai couldn’t move even a fingertip.

Big…Sis…ter…

Her lips delivered a silent voice into the void.

She was far too distant for her feelings to reach.

3

It was a disaster inside the restaurant. The giant windows had been smashed, the neatly lined tables had been dragged away and turned over, the menus had been trampled under the feet of the fleeing patrons, the dishes and silverware lay broken on the floor, blood was scattered all over, and to top it all off, there was a girl covered in wounds on the floor. There were no patrons or employees. The very white light and the out-of-place French pop music drifting from the speakers were the only things controlling the room. The air conditioner couldn’t keep up with its job at all now that the windows were broken.

“…Ugh…”

Kuroko Shirai, lying on the floor covered in blood, willed strength into her fingertips. Very slightly, they moved. But that was all. Her arms wouldn’t move. Her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t get up, nor could she walk out of here. She couldn’t even use her arms to crawl away. Plus, with how hazy her mind felt, she couldn’t use teleportation.

This is the end of the road, she thought.

Awaki Musujime had already fled from here. But she probably hadn’t gotten too far away. Direct distance or time didn’t mean much when you were fleeing using Move Point. The question was how well she could cover her tracks by using the special privilege to ignore the flow of traffic and the thickness of walls she had.

On top of that, Musujime habitually felt terrified at the thought of warping her own body. She would be choosing her destination points very, very carefully so she could keep her number of jumps to a minimum. So at the moment, she would be hiding in a safe spot, constructing a route with which she would remain absolutely, positively safe.

And she had announced that she would kill Shirai for sure. That she would crush to death the dying girl by making use of her 4,520-kilogram maximum power.

Shirai didn’t know when it would be coming. It could be five seconds, or it could be five minutes. She didn’t think it would be five hours or five days, though.

Whichever the case, unless she got out of here, she was done for. This is…the worst…Her bloodstained hair stuck to her cheek and got into her mouth. A tragedy…is what this is. Leaving the enemy alive, waiting for my own execution, and not only stupidly making her more excited but sending her powers out of control. How many people will Kuroko Shirai need to apologize to, to be forgiven for this?

One girl immediately came to mind at the top of the list of those she had to apologize to.

Mikoto Misaka.

They weren’t bound by any circumstances in their past—they weren’t childhood friends, nor did their families spend time with one another. Shirai had met her after entering Tokiwadai Middle School…so since this April, and there wasn’t some special agreement between them. At first, they really were just coincidentally attending the same school and happened to see each other in the same building from time to time.

But that was all it took to teach Shirai. Even if they only ever saw each other around school, it was far more than enough.

All the things Shirai were taught were simple.

Courtesy—it wasn’t something you wore on yourself, but something to let the other person be at ease.

Etiquette—it wasn’t something you forced on the other person, but a way to guide others.

Knowledge—it wasn’t something to flaunt, but something with which to listen to the problems of others.

Pride—it wasn’t for yourself, but rather first gained when protecting others.

It wasn’t as though Shirai had been given a rambling lecture on the subject.

All she needed to do was see.

Being treated like that, whether she liked it or not, made how small she was sink into her mind. At first glance, Mikoto seemed to act violently and at random, but it was only her understanding all those simple concepts and still looking strange for it. Even street fights had all sorts of manners involved in battles, with the dueling code of honor being a major one. Even now, Shirai knew that Mikoto was way different than she was—all Shirai did was pretend, without really understanding the basics.

She…

Mikoto Misaka…

…would never have made such a blunder. Shirai was sure of it. It was only her opinion as someone selfish, shameless, patronizing, and outside the picture, but she still knew that Railgun wouldn’t be in any danger in a crisis like this. She would grin and clash face-first with her opponent, dominating the match without giving them time for a counterattack, then leave without a scratch on her.

She would stand in defiance of such a tiny predicament.

No matter how bad the situation was, she’d never take a single step back.

She would run straight to Shirai. She’d put her, wounds and all, on her back. She’d even throw in a few words of consolation. Then she’d jump out of the building at the very last second.

Maybe she would come to the rescue of her idiot underclassman lying here.

Kuroko Shirai thought of Mikoto Misaka’s name, and of her face.

And then she smiled a little. Well, this might be aiming a bit high even for my perfect Big Sister. Her complacent self-mockery was accompanied by something around her creaking. It sounded almost like a glass pane being pressed on. Here it comes, she thought hazily. It didn’t look like any teleportation or Move Point she’d seen thus far, but she still knew.

Within the next ten seconds, most likely, 4,520 kilograms of weight would be crossing through space and appear on top of her.

Outside the broken windows, she could hear car engines and the same commotion as before. The gap between that and this room, currently enveloped in an eerie silence—aside from the out-of-place French pop music coming from the speakers, but that was actually giving her the creeps—made her want to smile.

I don’t want to die, she thought dimly.

And at the same time, while she knew it would never reach, she prayed as hard as she could to Mikoto Misaka.

To Railgun, who might be rushing here at this very moment, having noticed the commotion.

Please…

Shirai couldn’t move at all by herself.

But with someone’s support, she could move out of here.

If rescue were to come with this timing…

If someone came for her at the last moment, like one of those old, worn-out superheroes…

Please…

That was what the girl in twin tails wished for.

At the end of it all, one step away from the grand finale, at this very moment.

Just get as…far away from here as you can. Please, do make sure not to get caught in this, Big Sister.

Kuroko Shirai ardently wished for this. She could no longer avoid Awaki Musujime’s attack, which would be starting any moment now. Even if someone came running in for her, the odds of her being saved were slim. If Mikoto were to see this place, she’d probably rush over to the fallen Shirai’s side first thing—without a thought to the attack coming through space. Even if her intuition was vivid enough to see the attack coming and she tried to take Shirai out of the building with her, would she even be in time? If worse came to worst, they’d both be killed in the building’s collapse. Those odds were not slim.

But still…

Still…

Ah…

She could hear something.

A banging. Someone’s footsteps were climbing up to the entrance to the now-uninhabited floor. Footsteps, running up the emergency stairwell—had they thought using the elevator was too much of a pain?

No, wait, they weren’t just footsteps.

Crackle, crackle. With them came the sound of electric sparks flying.

Ahhh…!! No! she thought, her face growing pale.

Her limbs weren’t moving, so she couldn’t stop those footsteps whether or not she wanted to.

So instead, she moved her mouth. “No…don’t! Don’t…Please don’t come here!” As she spoke, the tears began at how perfect the timing was. She strained her throat, pouring every last bit of stamina into her final shout. “A special attack is coming here! This floor is too dangerous to come to! No, please, get away from the whole building! It’s going to collapse!!” she screamed, lying in her own blood on the floor.

The space around her grated and squealed. Was it the herald of Musujime’s attack, or was it just a signal? “…?!” This is bad, she thought. She had stormed into the restaurant with teleportation, so she didn’t know the exact construction and floor plan of the building, but at the very least, she could tell that whoever’s footsteps those were, they wouldn’t make it to this floor within ten seconds. Going directly here would be one thing, but having to run around all the hallways and staircases like they were would just end up wasting time and distance—it was impossible.

Shirai didn’t know in any concrete sense what object Musujime was going to warp in here.

But if 4,520 kilograms of weight all came in at once, it wouldn’t just be this floor—the rest of the building would collapse, too. And it would catch anyone inside when it did.

She couldn’t allow that.

She absolutely could not allow that.

“Run…away…!!” she tried to shout, on the verge of tears, but she didn’t make it. She couldn’t make it. A moment later, the air in the room all twisted apart. Her vision suddenly looked like she was seeing the world through a fish-eye lens; it was probably the aftermath of something starting to tear space apart, with the compression rate of air on the floor changing and causing light to refract.

The attack was beginning.

“…!!” Shirai gritted her teeth. She tried as hard as she could.

But her limbs still wouldn’t move. Not even a fingertip could move. Her ability wasn’t working at all, either. I hate this, she thought from the very bottom of her heart. If only she’d been stronger. She could have easily teleported both herself and the person coming to save her right out of the building without a problem. And if she hadn’t lost to Awaki Musujime, she would never have been forced into this kind of crisis in the first place.

She didn’t have the strength now that she felt that way.

Reality never worked out like that.

Big…Sis…ter…!!

Even through all that, she put the last of her strength into her weakened body. She knew all that would change was how far open her wounds tore needlessly—but she absolutely couldn’t allow herself to let go of her energy. And at the same time, she prayed: that some moronic miracle happened and that one single girl, strong but still just a girl, saved her.

Boom!!

Then, as if in answer to her prayers, an orange line stabbed through from the floor to the ceiling.

It was a piece of metal, fired at three times the speed of sound.

The slender heat ray, plunging diagonally through the room like a needle, was going far too fast for the naked eye to observe. It was like a laser, its beginning and end hidden from view. Just a single straight line, burning the air in its wake from its extreme speed.

Shirai, for a moment, looked at it, befuddled.

Then, there was a thump as the entire building shook. A storm of destruction sprang forth as though using the orange line as a fuse. An air hole two meters across opened up in the floor, knocking over all the objects right above it, blowing them aside, destroying everything. She felt the floor tilt slightly as she heard the sounds of rubble crashing down to the floors beneath.

Railgun.

The ability and the name of the one who possessed it came to mind, and Shirai, still collapsed in a heap, worked her brain.

“With this much ventilation, there will still be time, right?”

A girl’s voice—an all-too-familiar one.

There was no panic, no fear, no doubt in it at all.

It was relaxed, saying the current situation was not even close to a problem.

“I hate to say it, but this is as much as I can do. Now you go and use your fist to bring her back!!”

Shirai was taken aback at the words.

She craned her head, and then she saw.

She saw a person running through the windhole tunnel opened by the Railgun that was stabbing through the concrete floor. She saw a boy running up a staircase of ceiling rubble and furniture from the floor below that had piled up in the diagonally opened windhole leading up to her floor.

He could have never made it with the normal stairs.

So he hadn’t used them at all.

There were no weapons in the hands of the boy using such an absurd shortcut. From the looks of it, he didn’t have some incredible ability, either. But he still ran. Ran up to this floor, to where there was clearly some abnormal phenomenon occurring. Simply running and clenching his right fist tight as a boulder.

Within a second, the distortion in space would hit its limit and burst from within.

But at that moment, the boy thrust out his fist, without even paying attention to what was flying at him.

Toward the strange thing in front of him—Musujime’s attack, so fantastic, so strong, and so unrealistic.

4,520 kilograms of mass.

He swung his fist like a wrecking ball, aiming to crush that enormous weight all at once.

Ker-thump!! The boy’s fist collided with the space.

He gritted his teeth, and his fist somehow plunged straight through that space to the other side.

A strange thing happened.

There was suddenly the roar of steel being struck. It was like he was using his fist to flatten out the very distortion in space itself. He was punching away whatever invisible “thing” was disrupting the course of light.

Forced, direct interference from a three-dimensional vector into a special eleven-dimensional point. Shirai was always aware of such calculations, so she knew—it was like forcing a one-way road to go in the opposite direction.

As Kuroko Shirai lay there, dazed at the irrationality of it all, the boy said, “Uhh, sorry I’m late. Well, I mean, I sort of ran off without really understanding what was going on. If I hadn’t run into Mikoto on the way here, I wouldn’t have known what to do—Hey, wait a second! Why are you all busted up like that?!”

The boy ran over in a fluster as though he’d only just noticed the state Shirai was in.

“You…Why…Y-you risked your life for me?” stammered Shirai despite herself. This certainly didn’t seem like a person who had successfully pulled off the ridiculous feat of pounding warped space back into its normal shape. So she asked, just to make sure. “I’m a complete stranger, aren’t I? You have that kind of power…You may possess such great strength…but how can you be so earnest? How did you get into all this with no hesitation?”

For just a moment, the boy looked taken aback at what she’d said. Then he replied, “I mean, you can ask me why or how, but…to be frank, it’s quicker and easier to stand up to things instead of running away, right? Well, I mean, if running away would have saved you, I would have chosen that in a heartbeat.”

“It’s not…that easy, though! Didn’t you feel at all scared or anything?”

The boy didn’t seem affected by her words. His response came without a second’s hesitation. “Well, I guess I was kinda scared. But hey, I made a promise, right?”

Promise? repeated Shirai in her head as the boy gave a good look around. She wondered what he was doing before realizing an instant later he was checking to see that nobody was around.

Finally, he spoke again in a low, secretive voice. “…Yeah, a promise. To protect Mikoto Misaka and the world around her. With some smug, shy guy whose name I don’t even know.” He grinned a little. “I was a little late to the party, but I’ll ask anyway. Am I holding up my part of that promise right now?”

Shirai gave him a confused look, but finally she got her brain working again and looked around—then stopped on one thing.

Mikoto Misaka, the Railgun, the ace of Tokiwadai Middle School, was running over to them. Running through the giant windhole she’d opened herself. Running to her wound-covered underclassman. Running with a face that looked about ready to cry.

In Kuroko Shirai’s eyes was the girl she wanted to protect the most, entirely unharmed.

And thus, she answered, “…Yes, you are doing a fine job of it. Half of it, in any case.”

The remaining half was currently fleeing with the luggage using Move Point.

“I see.” He must have known something. The boy didn’t make any mention of what she’d just said—he simply nodded unflinchingly.

And then he spoke again.

“Then I’ll go take care of the other half now.”

…I-I-I-I-I have to! I need to do something…!!

She looked at the one blocking her in the middle of the runway-like road and nodded to herself again. She needed to do something. But that was the ultimate question. She needed to do something.

Accelerator was complaining, wondering why Awaki Musujime had to be the one to show up here, but Musujime wanted to take his words and turn them right back at him.

This was more than just a little out of place. This incident was so minor—this feast was nowhere near lavish enough for him to show up for a trivial esper like her. It was like bombing an entire nation just to stop a children’s fight.

Musujime’s thoughts spun out of control.

This wasn’t the same as the skill difference between amateurs and professionals playing sports against one another. It was more like a human playing tug-of-war with a jetliner. You didn’t need to explain in detail which one would win. The jetliner didn’t have to do anything, and the human wouldn’t be able to move a centimeter.

It was over.

It was all over.

Awaki Musujime’s face twisted up at the revelation…

But then…

“…I know.”

Her face, with distorted muscles, slowly began returning to normal like a ball of string unraveling.

“I know all about it! You don’t have your calculation abilities right now. That power you once had is gone! You can’t use it! You’re not the strongest esper anymore, or even close!!” she shouted as though elated by her triumph.

Accelerator, in the darkness, sighed. “You’re pathetic.” He paused, waiting for the wind to blow past. “If you’re actually serious, then man, you’re so pathetic I almost want to give you a hug.”

“Ha-ha! I can see right through your bluff! I was always near that person. I know a little about what’s really going on in Academy City. Accelerator, you lost your namesake’s ability on August thirty-first. Right? If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t just be standing there! Why don’t you attack me? It’s not that you won’t—you can’t. You thought you could beat me by using your old title as a shield?”

Her jeering declaration only caused the white one to narrow his eyes.

Musujime took it as him making fun of her, and one of her eyes twitched. “…!! How about you say something?! Don’t just stand there; it creeps me the hell out!!” she shouted, while at the same time harboring an odd doubt deep down.

Something was wrong. It was like he didn’t match the traits of the Level Five in the data.

“You really are pathetic! Listen up, ’cause I’m only gonna tell you this once.” The person spread his arms slowly to either side in the darkness. “I did take some brain damage that day. As you can see by looking at my face, I’ve gotta outsource all my calculations with these electrodes now. If I go out of range of those damn clones’ waves, they can’t help me do the calculations. I don’t even know if I’ve got half my old power left. I wouldn’t last fifteen minutes in real combat with how fucking terrible this thing’s battery life is.

“But—” said Accelerator, pausing.

“—just because I’ve gotten weaker doesn’t mean you got any stronger, now, does it?”

His smile appeared to splatter across his face.

He slammed the foot of his crutch into the ground with a thud!!

The firm ground shook as though being pressed from underneath. Accelerator crouched. Cracks stretched out in the asphalt road, each with him at its origin. The nearby buildings creaked, and all the glass windows, unable to withstand the change in the buildings’ structure, shattered, scattering shards of glass everywhere.

No…Impossible…?!

Musujime looked up. The shards were raining down from every building along the main road. She couldn’t flee using Move Point. They were covering too wide an area. Fleeing into a building wouldn’t be a good plan, either. The windows were broken because the buildings’ construction had been distorted. She didn’t think the furniture inside was in the same place anymore. In the worst-case scenario, she could finish herself off by using Move Point and jumping right into a collapsed wall.

That means to get away…I need to go up!!

She grabbed the luggage and immediately used Move Point to get herself into the air. She went past the rain of glass and into the night sky dozens of meters above the ground. Simultaneously, she was struck by an overwhelming nausea, but she put all her effort into quelling that. She worked her mind furiously—she wasn’t used to this, but she needed to jump again to a different building top before she started to fall…

And then her mind went blank.

The equations she’d been desperately constructing in her mind all blew away.

“Aha-gya-ha! Thank you very much for that low-angle shot you’re givin’ me!!”

Ka-boom!! came an explosion. Accelerator stomped on the broken asphalt again and blasted off into the sky like a rocket. He hadn’t only changed the vector of the force his legs exerted. Behind him, there were four powerful, whirlwind-like bursts of air connected to him.

Oddly, to Musujime, it made him look like an angel ascending into heaven.

An angel who had fallen into the pit of the earth, utterly disgraced and defiled, baring his fangs toward Paradise above.

Accelerator tore into the layer of glass rain between them. Then, with a terrible cracking sound, he broke through it all at once. There wasn’t a wound left on his body as he launched straight toward Musujime like a bullet.

His fist was already clenched.

He crushed in his grip the walking stick supporting him and it fell away from him like a multistage rocket. The demonic fist came for Awaki Musujime’s face with the speed and weight of his whole body behind it.

“…………………………………………………………………………………………???!!!”

There was no way for her to remain calm in this situation.

She’d renounced her calculations, and now she abruptly moved the luggage between them to protect herself. Accelerator’s fist, however, plunged through her measly defenses, shattering them. The luggage’s outer case broke apart, its antishock padding flew away, and the contents, rigidly fixed inside, met their end as a mess of parts and fragments, scattering before Musujime’s eyes like a blizzard of cherry blossom petals.

“Sorry, but from here on, it’s a one-way road.” The corners of the esper’s lips turned up. “Meaning you can’t come in! So tuck your damn tail between your legs and crawl back to wherever it is you came from!!”

Musujime’s throat let out a strange breath of air.

The tightly balled fist, ignoring the mere luggage, collided with her face at a ridiculous speed.

Crunch!!

Awaki Musujime was sent flying even higher up at an angle, high into the sky. She flew toward the edge of a building roof, coming at it from diagonally underneath, then she hit the metal fence meant to prevent people from falling off of it. Several of the fence’s braces pulled out of their roots like a forcefully kicked soccer ball breaking through a net. Finally, she came to a stop.

Accelerator, having transferred all his momentum to her, stopped dead in the air. Then, drawn by gravity, he began to fall back down to the dark ground beneath.

He didn’t look at the ground.

As he fell, he slowly looked up at the building Musujime had collided with, and said under his breath, “Yeah, if this is all I got, then maybe I’ve gotta retire the name of Academy City’s strongest.” Quietly, he closed his eyes. “But still, if it means brats like you don’t get to use it, I’ll keep on using the title, you fucking trash.”

The night wind carried away his unheard words as he fell toward the ground.