A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 20

by Kazuma Kamachi

  It felt like she’d caught a glimpse of a fundamental difference between them.

  “Anyway, now that my boring explanation is over, I’ll get to the point.”

  A moment after the assertion, the HsF-00’s silhouette began to shift.

  Ga-gong!!

  The upper sections of its giant main wings detached and fell in behind it, flying like small birds. There were about ten in all. Thin wires or something seemed to be attached to them, and each flitted about independently like stunt kites.

  “These are laser units, meant to penetrate an enemy from many directions at once,” said the pilot named Kameyama, turning the aircraft and swinging the tiny weapons around like morning stars.

  Clear relaxation and contempt crept into his tone. “You can’t run from the speed of light. I’ll shoot you down real gentle, young lady, so get ready.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Immigration of Good and Evil

  World_War_III.

  1

  October 30.

  Even the digital display showing the date seemed to be shivering in the cold.

  The car’s heater was almost completely busted. Driving a beat-up junker across the snow-covered landscape, Shiage Hamazura felt the chill seeping into his hands gripping the steering wheel. No matter how far they went, there was nothing. Just vast, flat land. The perfunctory asphalt road was buried with snow, too, and mostly invisible. There was so little to go on that if he drove off the road, he probably wouldn’t even realize it.

  This wasn’t a sight that could be had in Japan.

  He’d heard the Hokkaido area had some pretty expansive stretches of land, but probably nothing comparable.

  It was like a white desert.

  This was a western region of Russia.

  Apparently, they were close to the border with the Elizalina Alliance of Independent Nations.

  In order to escape their Academy City pursuers, they’d ridden a supersonic passenger jet on autopilot to the foreign country. The situation hadn’t afforded them much time to prepare, so they had almost no escape funds.

  …I can’t complain because this thing is stolen, but…Shit. Maybe it’s not about whether the air conditioning is working right—maybe our clothes are fundamentally wrong for this. You need way more cold-weather gear here than in Japan…

  The car’s paint was peeling in places, revealing the brown rust underneath. As he held its steering wheel, Hamazura stole a glance at the passenger seat beside him.

  A girl, on the short side and wearing a pink tracksuit, was sitting there.

  Rikou Takitsubo.

  A girl whose body had been ravaged by the side effects of a drug-like substance called Crystals. Even now, she was limp in her seat, sweating profusely as though suffering from a fever. Hamazura wanted to get her to a doctor as soon as he could, but he knew it wasn’t happening. Crystals were top secret for Academy City. Even if he brought Takitsubo to an outside doctor, they’d have no way of knowing how to cure her.

  These two were on the run.

  From the one thing that could have saved her: Academy City.

  …There’s no way we can fight Academy City alone. Besides, if we completely wrecked it, we’d lose the tech we need to cure Takitsubo. However this shakes out, we’ll have to eventually go back to the City and rely on its tech to save her.

  However, if they put up their hands and returned to the City like this, neither would win any freedom. The possibility that they’d be killed wasn’t low either. Which meant Hamazura had to come up with a plan to guarantee their safety.

  …So this is how our fight will go. While we’re fleeing through Russia, we find something and use it as a bargaining chip. We advance the talks so it’s as beneficial to us as possible until we reach a stage where they’ll definitely cure Takitsubo. That’s our only option.

  “Hamazura. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he replied with a reassuring grin. “…Was just thinking we’ll need money no matter what we decide to do here. What little we had on us when we left the City won’t get us far. It’s not Russian currency, either, so we won’t be able to use it right away. We’ll have to find money somewhere.”

  Selling the stolen car he was driving right now was an option, but Hamazura didn’t think it was a very good idea. It wasn’t that easy to tell which dealers were shady enough to take a stolen vehicle. If he were still in Academy City, things might have been different, but he didn’t know what it was like in Russia.

  Besides, he didn’t know much Russian. If someone witnessed Asian people speaking Japanese in these parts while they were embroiled in their big war, that alone might be enough to cause major issues.

  Which left them with…

  “We’ll have to steal. Time for a robbery.”

  “That’s…” Takitsubo hesitated.

  But that was their only choice.

  As if in response to their decision, a small store came into sight in front of them. It was connected to a gas station. They probably sold nonperishables in cans and the like for people driving long distances.

  “Wait here,” he said to Takitsubo, parking the car a short distance away from the store.

  “I’ll go earn us real cash.”

  …Saying it was easy, but Hamazura was actually pretty worried.

  First off, this wasn’t Japan. The guns didn’t work the same way. He had a small handgun on him, but it was possible anyone they set upon would have their own for self-defense—or maybe even a rifle.

  To add to that—

  It’s wartime right now.

  Ever since Takitsubo translated a Russian broadcast on the radio for him earlier, Hamazura’s head had been filled with words that felt highly surreal.

  For Russians, we’re the greatest enemy of all. If anyone even suspects that we came from Academy City, we could get thrashed.

  War.

  That was what they were saying, but the word wasn’t clicking for him. For Hamazura, the horrors of war were something that only ever happened in distant places or something that he would hear about from time to time on TV news, but apparently, it was happening all across the world now. It didn’t feel real—maybe because there was no time for the news to sink in since they had been preoccupied with fleeing Academy City, or it could have been because they hadn’t encountered the misfortune of finding themselves on a battlefield crisscrossed by bullets and artillery shells yet. Academy City had apparently dispatched forces that were assisting in the evacuation of friendly institutions and protecting various facilities inside Russia’s borders…but even hearing that news over the car radio wasn’t enough to give him a sense of danger.

  He didn’t know what was going to happen from here on out. But to be honest, Hamazura didn’t care who won or who lost, or which side would next grab ahold of the world’s reins. As long as this ridiculous war ended as soon as possible and someone who would protect them ended up with those reins, he hardly cared about anything that might happen afterward.

  …That summed up most of his thoughts on the matter, but the war actually wasn’t his number one concern. In fact, it was quite possible he was only thinking about the war because he didn’t want to face it—his number one concern.

  That he had to rob a store with a clerk in it.

  This excuse may have been incredibly self-centered, but this was altogether different than jacking a car or an ATM. Every time he thought about situations where he’d possibly need to use his weapon, he could feel something heavy settling into his stomach.

  He checked the safety on the small handgun in his pocket several times, thinking, I will not, I will absolutely not hurt the shopkeeper! All I need is what’s in the register. I’ll just hold the guy at gunpoint. Warning shots only after I point the barrel up!

  He repeated what he needed to do in his mind and, in the end, casually prayed for something vague. Right before entering the store, he pulled his parka hood down low and put on a pair of gloves that were in the stolen car.

 
He opened the door and, at the same time, drew his pistol.

  I will not! I will not hurt the clerk!!

  And then he saw them.

  The female cashier, hands and feet tied with duct tape, trying to speak through her bound mouth.

  The man, with a mask like a pro wrestler, pushing her to the floor and holding a knife to her neck.

  The man was large, over six feet tall, and he wasn’t alone. There were three criminals in total, and when they saw Hamazura open the narrow door, one said something in Russian.

  <“Who are you?”>

  Hamazura, who couldn’t understand it, simply replied with the Japanese words he’d prepared beforehand.

  “This is a robbery. Hands in the air.”

  Bang-bang-ba-bang!! Takitsubo heard several gunshots fire in quick succession.

  When she turned to look from her passenger seat in the stolen car, she spotted Shiage Hamazura leaving the store and heading her way. It seemed like the robbery was over. He was holding several large beige paper bags in either hand. They must have been filled with a lot of food—a long baguette was sticking out of one bag, and she could see the edges of what looked like a knit scarf and a rolled-up coat in another.

  As Hamazura opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, Takitsubo asked, “Hamazura. Did it work?”

  “The clerk was, like, super-thankful, and she gave me all sorts of free gifts!! She even said she’d fill the car’s tank, too!!”

  “?”

  With a confused Takitsubo inside, the stolen car started moving again.

  2

  Accelerator was stowed away on a freight train.

  The Trans-Federation Railroad.

  It was the world’s longest railroad. Spanning the entire Eurasian continent, it normally took over two weeks to run from its first station to the last stop. But right now, this specific time, seemed to be an exception. The commencement of World War III made it necessary to transport large quantities of military materiel. Trains were completely ignoring their normal schedules and also traveling at high speeds that disregarded safety regulations.

  Either they’d been preparing for this for a while now or they’d pulled out a prototype from a research lab somewhere. The freight train Accelerator was on traveled at over five hundred kilometers per hour—fast enough to rival Maglev trains. The leading car was cone shaped like a fighter jet or space shuttle, and the cars’ walls were textured, like the latest competitive low-drag swimsuits.

  War…What nonsense.

  For a time, Accelerator gave thought to the possibility that the recent hostilities were part of an Academy City machination to chase down Last Order and him, but eventually he came to the conclusion that he was definitely too paranoid. Acts that were this conspicuous weren’t Academy City’s style, which he knew from having worked in its underworld until just the other day. In fact, he was sure they preferred doing things in ways that would keep their dirty laundry as low profile as possible.

  They’d put on quite a show in a French city called Avignon, but there must have been something that’d forced them to do so, though he didn’t know exactly what that something would have been.

  However…

  …Putting aside whether that shithole Academy City plotted all this, I still can’t deny the possibility that they have some ulterior motive in all this.

  Academy City’s influence was vast. Normally, they would have taken decisive action before things had escalated to a large-scale conflict. And yet, now there was a war that threatened to bring down the entire science-dominated world. It wasn’t bizarre to assume something significant had happened.

  What’s more, Academy City had answered the provocations. Maybe there was something they wanted so badly that they were willing to go to war.

  None of that mattered to Accelerator, though. At the moment, that wasn’t the most pressing matter for him.

  Damn it…

  It was the fact that he wasn’t alone.

  Next to him was a girl who looked like she was around ten.

  Last Order.

  A clone made from the somatic cells of the third-ranked Level Five. She’d been used to cause a monster called Aiwass to manifest into the world; an act which was now putting a major burden on her brain. She couldn’t even walk around freely because of it, and even now, she was lying there limply.

  She always wore a button-down shirt over a camisole, but right now she had a thick blanket on top of all that. It had been in the freight train. Accelerator had found mostly white winter clothes, which he’d taken for himself and put on.

  “…Where are we? asks Misaka asks Misaka, looking around.”

  “On a train.”

  “What about what about Yomikawa? asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

  “Not here right now. But you’ll see her soon. I promise.”

  “Okay…” Last Order’s words cut off for a moment. “If we were all together, Yomikawa could have made stewed Salisbury steak again, says Misaka says Misaka, kinda disappointed.”

  “…”

  “But this is okay, says Misaka says Misaka, relieved. I finally got to see your face again after so long, says Misaka says Misaka, reaching her hand out.”

  So she said, but her small hand didn’t move.

  Her fingertips merely trembled and shook in place.

  Whether or not she realized this, Last Order continued: “Let’s all have dinner together again, suggests Misaka suggests Misaka. Yomikawa’s stew was really good, brags Misaka brags Misaka.”

  Though she smiled, it looked painful for her just to speak.

  …How did it come to this? Accelerator, hunched into a ball, clenched his teeth. What did this brat ever do? Was it bad enough that she deserved to end up like this? She can’t even move her own fingers. Why does this kid have to go through this shit?

  The only sound he could hear was the unpleasant creaking every time his jaw grew firmer.

  There was no freedom or safety for her here.

  Accelerator harbored an intense rage toward something—a vague sense of fate that permeated the world. He knew it wasn’t a matter of hating someone in particular. But he still couldn’t help but feel angry.

  His hand gripped his modern-design crutch handle hard enough to crush it.

  A global-scale war had begun. All kinds of people from nations around the world were probably fighting for what was important to each of them.

  But.

  There was nobody to fight for her.

  People across the entire planet were ready to fight with their lives on the line, but not a single person stood up to rescue Last Order, who hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “…It’s bullshit…,” murmured Accelerator.

  He’d come this far in order to fight against how unreasonable that was. One girl, destined to be destroyed in the process of some plan someone had concocted…To save her, to fight against her cruel fate, Accelerator had thrown away his position, his pride, and everything else to come to Russia.

  Go to Russia.

  Aiwass—the rule-breaking entity who had once thoroughly thrashed Accelerator—had told him to go there. If he could find something in that place, he might be able to save Last Order.

  He didn’t know what was supposed to be in this country.

  It wasn’t even clear how much of what Aiwass said could be trusted.

  But.

  …I’ll do it. Accelerator quietly hardened his resolve…Either way, I knew I couldn’t save the brat if we stayed in Academy City. That means I have to look for other ways. The blabber that came out of Aiwass’s mouth doesn’t even matter.

  Accelerator was Academy City’s top-ranked Level Five. Last Order was a unique specimen that formed the core of an Academy City project. It was possible that Russia would treat them like a threatening strategic weapon and an object of crucial military value. But he didn’t care about any of that, either. He wasn’t entirely happy that someone might mistake them for agents of that rotten city, but he didn’t need t
o clear up every single misunderstanding. Right now, he had one goal. If anyone got in the way, no matter the reason, he’d smash them to pieces and keep on charging.

  Just then—

  Grr-gam!! He heard a noise from overhead.

  It sounded like thick metal being dented.

  The freight train container had probably warped. Accelerator looked up as the noise happened a second time, then a third.

  It wasn’t just this car.

  Even the sound of the train on the tracks wasn’t enough to muffle this strange sound, and he heard it coming from various other spots on the train as well. Not only from the ceiling, either—he heard it from the walls and underneath the floor, too.

  At the same time, there was an angry shout in Russian and then several gunshots.

  The shouts quickly became screams.

  Accelerator deduced that someone had jumped onto the freight train during its high-speed transit. There were only so many who could jump onto a vehicle going over five hundred kilometers per hour.

  Academy City.

  …They’ve come for us.

  “What’s wrong? asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

  He heard a little girl’s tiny voice.

  Slowly, Accelerator examined Last Order, who was lying on the floor. Number One took a handkerchief out of Last Order’s pocket, folded it up, and laid it over her eyes.

  To prevent her from seeing a world filled with blood.

  “…Nothing,” he said, reaching for his electrode collar.

  This was the switch that would let him wield his power as Academy City’s strongest monster.

  “Please don’t get in fights like that again, asks Misaka asks Misaka.”

  “…Yeah, I promise,” he said curtly, lying to cut off the conversation.

  Normally, Last Order could have severed his connection to the Misaka network and taken all his power. And yet, nothing happened. Did that mean she couldn’t even perform a simple action like that in her current state?

  Lingering for a moment, Accelerator peered down into Last Order’s blindfolded face.