The Italian Peninsula, Rome.
Besides being the capital of a secular nation, this city was also home to the country with the smallest territory and population in the world. Here, followers, priests, and clergy of the Roman Catholic Church could be seen everywhere. This was the Vatican, headquarters of the Roman Catholic Church!
At this moment, inside St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican, the very symbol of the Catholic Church, the solemn atmosphere was suffocating.
"You've all seen the intelligence sent back by Acqua of the Back and Vento of the Front, haven't you? Terra of the Left is dead. This is a loss for the Lord, and a loss for Christians across the entire world."
An elderly man dressed in the white zucchetto and ceremonial attire befitting his position slowly spoke. His hair was cut short, and his chin was clean-shaven. Whether in appearance or manner, the first impression he gave was unmistakable—conservative.
Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church—Pietro Yogdis.
The death of Terra of the Left, one of God's Right Seat, had already been confirmed. It was the greatest loss the Roman Catholic Church had suffered in recent years.
"Terra of the Left's death may indeed have been partly due to his arrogance and underestimating the enemy, but there is no doubt that we misjudged Academy City's strength. I propose that Lidvia Lorenzetti be recalled immediately. The effects of the Croce di Pietro are certainly tempting, but how can you be certain Academy City has made no preparations against it? The Croce di Pietro is one of our Church's highest-grade spiritual items. We cannot afford to lose it."
At the table, a bishop dressed in white offered his proposal.
The activation condition for the Croce di Pietro required it to be planted in the ground on a specific date each year, the feast day commemorating Saint Peter's death, so that after sunset, the light of the appropriate constellation would shine upon the spiritual item.
The activation date differed depending on the location. In the Vatican, it could only be activated on June 29. In Japan, the corresponding date was September 19.
"I object! That's cowardice! You're proposing retreat after suffering only a minor loss? The activation conditions for the Croce di Pietro are already in place. If we flee just before the decisive moment, can we still call ourselves the Roman Catholic Church? Do you want those Anglo-Saxon barbarians—the British—to laugh at us?!"
"On the contrary, I propose raising the stakes. The Agnese Forces, the knight orders, and the Queen of the Adriatic Sea should all be dispatched immediately. And quickly!"
"Foolish! I won't object if you insist on keeping the Croce di Pietro in place because its activation conditions are imminent, but if we raise the stakes like that and something goes wrong, can you bear the responsibility?"
Another bishop joined the argument.
"Then what do you suggest?! Sending them in one group at a time?! The greatest taboo when undertaking something major while fearing for your own safety is feeding forces into the battlefield piecemeal! Either don't move at all, or sweep everything aside with overwhelming force! Terra of the Left is already a warning before our eyes. Precisely because Academy City's strength cannot be underestimated, the force our Church commits must be powerful enough!"
"How is that mentality any different from a gambler who has lost so much he's gone red-eyed?! Are you no longer guarding against the heretics in Britain? Are you trying to throw away the very essence of the Roman Catholic Church in a single day?!"
Although the Pope had recently traveled to London to meet with the Anglican Church's Archbishop, Laura Stuart, the Roman Catholic Church had always despised and looked down upon the Anglican Church from top to bottom. They were the orthodox faith. The other side were heretics!
Heretics were even more hateful than heathens!
If given the opportunity, they absolutely wouldn't mind eradicating the Anglican Church in both spirit and flesh.
"You!"
The argument grew more heated by the moment. Just as the clash of doctrines seemed about to erupt in earnest, with the bishops flushed red as each clung to his own position, the Cardinal lightly tapped the table.
"Enough. This pointless argument ends here."
Pietro Yogdis raised his head and looked toward a corner beneath the banners lining the circular walls of the council chamber.
"What do you think?"
"Heh... heh heh..."
A young man dressed primarily in crimson, with blazing red hair, slowly emerged from the shadow cast by the Vatican's flag. His build was slender, yet he radiated tremendous pressure.
In an instant, the bishops fell silent.
They had no choice. Everyone seated here was politically shrewd. The Roman Catholic Church's true authority was now secretly held by God's Right Seat—or rather, by the leader of God's Right Seat, Fiamma of the Right.
"I happen to agree with your view."
Ignoring everyone around him, the red-clad young man strode to the center of the council chamber and arrogantly pointed at the bishop who had advocated shoving all their chips onto the table at once.
"But—!"
In the next instant, Fiamma of the Right abruptly changed direction.
"You're still too conservative!"
"If we're going to fight, then we'll fight big!"
Pietro Yogdis frowned.
"Have you thought this through? Once we begin, there will be no turning back..."
"No, no, my dear Cardinal. Don't ask me such a stupid question. And don't compare that idiot Terra of the Left to me."
Fiamma of the Right pointed toward the exquisite spherical crystal chandelier hanging at the center of the vaulted ceiling. Surrounded by the sacred frescoes above, it looked almost like the entire world itself, while his right hand opened and then closed around it.
"Everything is within its grasp."
...
The Japanese archipelago, Tokyo.
A streak of setting sunlight slanted in from the distant western horizon, bathing all of Academy City in a sea of reddish-orange light. The surfaces of the towering futuristic buildings reflected dazzling halos.
The deep malice from ten thousand kilometers away did nothing to diminish Academy City's fervor.
As night approached, multicolored neon lights had already begun to glow. The heated passion of daytime gradually subsided. Night was a time for relaxation, and the arrival of students' parents added a touch of warm family festivity to this excessively youthful city.
Especially after Selene announced the lifting of the student curfew during the Daihasei Festival, Academy City's inns, hotels, restaurants... food streets, commercial districts, pedestrian streets... were packed everywhere. Rather than decreasing as night approached, the flow of pedestrians on the streets became even denser and livelier.
Moving through the bustling crowd and smelling that honey-like sweetness drifting beside her nose, Misaka Mikoto wore a sour expression. She didn't find someone's presence beside her made the evening any more intoxicating. Quite the opposite. She was irritated.
"Tch! Why are you following me?"
"My, my~ Misaka, really. How should I put this? I'm also a student of Tokiwadai Middle School, and I'm a Level 5 esper. Isn't it perfectly normal for me to receive an invitation to Madam Katy's banquet?"
Someone gracefully drew alongside her.
Misaka Mikoto turned her head away. The girl beside her had long honey-colored hair and held one index finger before her pale lips. Her stockings and gloves were both made of white lace, and her figure was exquisitely curvaceous. She was clearly wearing the same Tokiwadai uniform as every other girl at the school, so why were her "pectoral muscles" so ridiculously exaggerated?!
Especially when Misaka noticed the faintly comparing gaze and reddened face of a certain black-haired, spiky-haired boy walking behind them, anger immediately surged inside her.
She's definitely using padding! And men really are shallow! Vulgar!
"Hmph!"
Crackle!
The more she thought about it, the angrier Misaka Mikoto became. She abruptly stomped her foot, sending electric sparks bursting outward.
"W-Whoa—! Biri-Biri, what are you doing?! We're in a busy district!"
Kamijou Touma's already spiky hair became even more frizzled, making him look even more like a giant hedgehog.
With a miserable expression, he tried smoothing his hair back down, though it didn't help in the slightest, then covered his face.
What's with this weird atmosphere?
Looking back on the entire day, it had been yet another unlucky one!
Tsuchimikado and Stiyl had dragged him off to deal with some magician-related mess, making him skip out on his class' group competition and earn a scolding from class representative Fukiyose Seiri.
Then they had managed to intercept the magician known as the "Courier," only for Academy City's suppression forces to accidentally fire on them. If his reactions hadn't been fast enough, he might have been riddled with bullets.
Imagine Breaker worked great against magical phenomena and supernatural abilities! But against physical bullets, rockets, artillery shells, and other man-made weapons... it did absolutely nothing!
Fortunately, through Stiyl and some connections among the Board of Directors, the suppression forces quickly identified friend from foe. After the battle ended and a long round of arguing and negotiation, they let him go. As for what ultimately happened to the "Courier" magician, he had no idea. That was Stiyl and Anti-Skill's business.
In any case, the tattooed guy commanding the suppression troops hadn't looked very happy. Kamijou had vaguely overheard that there were other magician intruders who hadn't been caught, that the intruders had received reinforcements, and that those reinforcements were extremely powerful. An armed robot squad sent after them had been completely wiped out, and his Hound Dog forces had also suffered heavy losses.
After that, there wasn't much Kamijou could do to help. That bastard Tsuchimikado had kicked him back to his high school like a soccer ball and told him to keep participating in the festival, which earned him another scolding from Fukiyose Seiri and Komoe-sensei. Add all the mentally and physically exhausting events on top of that and... ah, what suffering!
He had finally endured until the day's competitions ended. Just as he was dragging his exhausted body back toward his tiny apartment, Biri-Biri showed up again and forcibly dragged him off to tonight's dinner gathering.
Only then did he remember that he'd mentioned to Biri-Biri that morning that he wanted to thank Selene for helping them during the Endymion space elevator incident.
On the way to School Garden, they had run into this honey-haired girl with a ridiculously well-developed figure who didn't look like a middle schooler at all. Apparently, she and Biri-Biri didn't get along.
Even with Kamijou Touma's famously dense and easygoing personality, the verbal sparring between the two throughout the journey made him painfully uncomfortable while stuck in the middle.
"Ah... such misfortune."
Life was hard. Touma sighed.
"My~ Misaka is so scary."
Shokuhou Misaki gave a deliberately aggrieved little cry, then took a hairbrush from the small bag she carried.
How should one describe it? The sight somehow resembled a fat orange cat having its fur groomed.
"A girl this violent should be careful, or nobody will want her."
"Shut up!"
Even though Misaka Mikoto was doing her best to keep her expression normal, no one could possibly call it friendly.
"Putting that aside, what are you even doing? Do you seriously enjoy causing trouble for me that much?"
"My, my~ There's no need for Misaka to investigate something so trivial. But 'causing trouble'... Did I ruin something good for you, Misaka? Could it be..."
Shokuhou Misaki leaned her body toward Misaka Mikoto.
"Whoa!"
Misaka Mikoto, who nearly experienced the absolute difference between a certain part of their bodies firsthand, immediately took a step backward. Perhaps some unconscious instinct for self-preservation was protecting her from the cruel truth of reality.
"None of your business!"
Misaka Mikoto first cut off Shokuhou Misaki's questioning in an irritated tone, then asked in a slightly lowered but still clear voice, "Did you really come all this way just to gossip?"
"I'm warning you. Whatever you're planning, you absolutely cannot drag him into it!"
"Don't think of me as such a bad person. Actually, I just wanted to get a little closer to Misaka... to you."
Shokuhou Misaki leaned forward slightly, speaking in a honey-sweet voice that nevertheless retained perfect elegance.
"Stop it! I've got goosebumps all over!"
Misaka Mikoto hurriedly shifted farther away, crossing her arms defensively and shaking her head.
She didn't notice the lonely darkness hidden in Shokuhou Misaki's eyes beneath that syrupy tone.
"Hey, hey, Biri-Biri, and you, Tokiwadai young lady. Looks like we're here."
At that moment, Kamijou Touma's cheerful voice sounded. He scratched the back of his head and pointed toward the European-style business courtyard before them, which had been reserved for the occasion.
Still as optimistic and upbeat as ever, Touma...
Looking at the spiky-haired boy who was clearly exhausted but forcing himself to stay energetic, Shokuhou Misaki thought he was still exactly the same as before. No matter how enormous the hardship, nothing could ever crush him. She cast aside the shadow in her eyes and revealed a radiant smile.
"Looks like it!"
The honey-haired girl moved first. Before Kamijou Touma could understand what was happening, she grabbed him by the arm and boldly marched straight into the courtyard with him.
She really should have returned to her dormitory in School Garden after finishing her reconnaissance of the Advanced Education Department. But when she'd seen Misaka Mikoto hurriedly dragging Kamijou Touma along the road, her curiosity and mischievous instincts had immediately surged, and before she knew it, she'd followed them here.
Besides, she had an invitation too.
After all, Tokiwadai Middle School only had three Level 5 espers. Inviting two of them to dinner while completely excluding the third without even acknowledging her existence would have been rather inappropriate. Besides, they were all in the same year. Out of basic courtesy, Mother Katy had also passed an invitation along to Shokuhou Misaki.
That invitation represented an attitude. Whether she came or not was Shokuhou Misaki's own decision.
Leaving behind only...
Misaka Mikoto, standing there with one hand half-raised and a dumbfounded expression.
Wait. Did I just become the outsider?!
Crackle—thunk!
"Ow—!"
"Don't use your ability here."
After chopping Misaka Mikoto on the head hard enough to make her crouch down clutching it, Selene adjusted her sleeve, flexed her fingers, turned her head, and spoke with amusement.
"Misaka, you really are adorable. A textbook tsundere."
"But while tsunderes are certainly cute, they're usually the exclusive privilege of losing heroines."
Rubbing the top of her head, Misaka Mikoto slowly stood up. Her face was slightly red, but she stubbornly shouted anyway.
"What tsundere? What losing heroine? I have no idea what you're talking about! Selene, when did you get here..."
At that moment, a petite twin-tailed figure somehow appeared without anyone noticing, speaking in a sour, jealous tone.
"Honestly, Onee-sama, fighting over a man out of jealousy? That truly goes against your dignity as Tokiwadai's ace."
"Hiss... Ow... Kuroko, when did you get here?"
Misaka Mikoto's eyes wandered as she spoke with righteous conviction.
"This is all Shokuhou's fault."
"And Kuroko, what were you doing all day today? I didn't see you anywhere."
"Onee-sama, even Kuroko can't bear to watch such an awkward attempt to change the subject."
Shirai Kuroko shook her head repeatedly and gave a long sigh at her beloved Onee-sama's lack of honesty.
"Judgment has been extremely busy."
"And Senpai, too. You announced the cancellation of the curfew so suddenly during the opening ceremony, without any warning at all. Judgment and Anti-Skill spent most of the day in emergency meetings. There were also violent explosions and gunfire in an arcade district in School District 7, along with several construction sites that had been shut down for the Daihasei Festival. They say they were exercises, but there's nothing we can do about Judgment's workload skyrocketing."
"Are you getting extra allowance?"
Selene's casual question instantly interrupted Shirai Kuroko's little complaint about the increased workload.
"Uh... yes."
"Then what's the problem?"
Selene spread both hands, beckoned the two of them along, and walked into the courtyard.
Then Selene saw Carissa and Villian sitting on the second-floor balcony not far ahead, as well as Saten Ruiko peeking out like a thief.
Selene's gaze lingered especially long on Villian, Britain's Third Princess. Judging by the time, the appointed moment was almost here. It's just about time to put you to use.
Now, how should I get her to cooperate properly?
I threatened that unknighted knight of yours. Want him back at your side? If you do, cooperate with me.
Or maybe—hey, I found your savior?
...