Hello, fellow masters – in – arms. Sorry it took a while to post a new ch. Stuff happens in my life and it take a while for ideas to flow correctly and this ch. was a long one. But know this I have no intention of dropping this story. Engoy
"Humanity. Such a curious thing, isn't it? Parasites to Gaia. Enigma to gods. Toys, to me."
-Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg (1)
As I stood here, in that quiet corner of the Throne, watching her—her, of all beings—carry that boy like a porcelain doll clutched to her chest, I felt it: that itch at the back of my spine that said something entertaining was about to happen.
Ophis. The Ouroboros Dragon. Dragon God of Infinity.
So rarely do deities of that scale show weakness. But there she was, kneeling in an endless field of celestial silence, cradling the child like he was her treasure. Perhaps, in a way, he was.
She didn't see me at first. Her head was buried in her hands. She whispered to herself, asking questions the cosmos would never answer: "Why did this happen? His parents should be alright, but… what am I supposed to do now?"
Oh, how quaint. Even gods ask questions of mortals when they care.
Then, witnessing her in pain began.
It began as a twitch, a little glitch in her divine matrix. Then came the scream. I'd never heard a god scream before. She gripped her chest like it was collapsing in on itself, repeating the same phrase like a broken record: "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts…"
That's when I stepped in.
With a sigh, I placed a hand on her head. The root was tangled—deep but doable, like pulling Gacha. But instead of getting salt, like all those crybabies out there, I got what a was looking for, a black, coiled thread pulsed beneath her divine essence. I pulled. It fought. But in the end, even it yielded to me.
Kio was next. That boy... even unconscious, he radiated potential—raw, but unshaped. From him, I extracted something different. A gold thread, both threads interweave into a helix that twisted like a double spiral, resonating.
***
My other-self began to turn to ash, breaking down at the atomic level. The ashes, left in a pile in front of my feet as I continue what I started. ("Don't worry. I'm no polluter") The ashes drift into my cloak, becoming one with me.
Ophis fell unconscious beside him. She will recover—dragons always do. Her hand inches away from the boy, close but always out of reach. With a snap of my fingers, I removed her from the field, sending her away. Now it was just the boy and me.
I stood in the stillness and watched him drift in the void; his body suspended like starlight in ink.
"So," I said aloud, "Let's begin."
*Snapping fingers* A series of mystic displays blinked into existence—circular arrays of glowing yellow screens and layered symbols rotating around the boy's body. Each screen projected readings, codes, and spiritual diagnostics in a language I have seen only once before.
"The Guideline… What a grand protagonist for the most compelling story soon to be."
I force open the magical display like one would pry open a complex machine, the threads of the Guideline flickered—cryptic symbols twisting into Eldritch-like shapes. Tapping one glowing sigil, and the displays spiraled outward, revealing layers upon layers of code-like runes embedded within the boy's soul.
And then… just as I opened another set of diagnostic arrays, they arrived.
A golden light unfurled behind me. Predictably. I turned.
Mentor.
The King of Magecraft himself entered like a calm wave through the noise of the unknown. And of course, trailing behind him like a stray cat wearing perfume—Merlin. The ever-charming, never-welcome Flower Magus.
I offered Solomon a nod of respect.
"Lord Solomon."
He nodded back, the weight of a thousand worlds behind his gaze. "I felt a disturbance here," Solomon said, stepping into the void with deliberate calm.
But then he saw the boy.
Kio—suspended like starlight in the air, a tangle of sigils and graphs spiraling through his essence.
Solomon's eyes, once quiet with ancient patience, ignited. Golden light flared in their depths—righteous and terrible.
"What is the meaning of this… Zelretch?"
He didn't shout. He didn't need to. But that tone—that tone—was one I hadn't heard before. He is usually calm and composed, almost divine, but the boy must have awakened it. This wasn't concern, it was violence in stillness.
I swallowed the sharpness in my throat, straightening my back.
"This was not my doing, teacher," I said, my voice even but sharp at the edges. "This boy... he was already broken when I found him. Something else touched him. Twisted him."
Solomon didn't blink. Didn't move. He just watched.
Those burning golden eyes cut through excuses like the edge of a divine sword.
So I did what I do best: I showed the truth.
With a flick of my hand, my grimoire opened midair. Its pages turned with a whisper that carried centuries. The book glowed as I summoned the memory—my own, encoded and precise.
"Let me show you." (Unfortunately, for you my fine spectators. This part will be redacted for the time being. I can't reveal every secret now, can I?)
Mentor walked up to Kio's form and narrowed his eyes at the yellow displays. "It's rewriting itself."
"Yes. The Guideline," I replied. "And it's not simply adapting. It's aware, alive."
Merlin, being Merlin, couldn't help but poke his nose in. "Who are they? Romeo and Juliet, or would Anchin be a better fit"
"Archin would be the better fit" I replied, as if rehearsed. "As a true poet would," the incubus snickers, as if this were a game of wit and wordplay instead of inspecting the soul of a sleeping boy.
We went off track—trading metaphors, prodding each other, walking that razor edge between brilliance and arrogance. This was our rhythm.
Until the air grew heavy. Mentor was glaring. Solomon's amber eyes, like molten glass cooled over centuries, locked onto both of us. His voice cut through the void like judgment itself.
"Kio's life is on the line, and you two are making jokes at a time like this."
His tone didn't rise. It didn't have to. Every word was weighted—measured and final.
"Are you here to help him? Or are you just going to mock and muse while he teeters on the edge of oblivion?"
Merlin, to his rare credit, took a step back. A small one.
I met Mentor's stare with my own, firm and unwavering. "Of course not, Master," I said. "This boy is as precious to me as my daughters… and protégés."
A pause. His eyes did not blink. His expression did not change. He did not believe me. He never does. But that's fine.
I don't lie. I just never give the full truth.
Finally, Solomon turned away, his robe fluttering behind him with the grace of a king. He looked toward Kio again. The glow from the Guideline pulsed like a heartbeat. "Then let's get to work," he commanded.
No more banter. No more games. We moved in silence.
As Mentor and I began our careful work—threading arcane logic through the layered code of the Guideline—I noticed something shift in him.
Solomon, ever stoic, ever calm.
His hands slowed.
His brows lowered ever so slightly.
He didn't speak right away. That silence alone told me everything.
"What is it?" I asked, tilting my head toward the suspended glyphs. The radiant architecture of the Guideline spiraled outward, yet beneath the golden lattice of complex enchantments… something darker pulsed.
He tapped one glyph—ancient script unraveling to reveal a buried line of code. Not quite mystic, not quite mechanical. Somewhere between corrupted gospel and alchemical directive.
My eyes narrowed. "Drug protocol?" I muttered aloud, scrolling with a flick of my fingers.
But Mentor answered.
"It's a neural trigger. A chemical cascade," he said, voice low. "Set to flood the users system with euphoric compounds—only when taking a life.
[Effect: Induce euphoria; Enhance pleasure upon termination.]
[Trigger: Lethal force engagement confirmed.]
The void grew quieter still.
Not even Merlin dared to speak.
I stared at the code for a long moment, the glow flickering across my eyes.
"This wasn't written by accident," I whispered. "Someone wanted him to enjoy it."
Solomon's lips tightened, a grim line forming. "What a fowl thing this is. Absolutely disgusting!" I turned toward him, voice colder than the vacuum around us.
Solomon raised a hand, halting the code. "We can still adjust the whole system, but we need to move carefully. Any misstep could damage the rest of his soul structure. We will carve this filth out."
The magical displays rippled as our work resumed. Glyphs aligned, sigils burned away the corruption, and the Guideline twisted like a living nerve system trying to resist surgery.
But we pressed on.
After what felt like an eternity of silence—debugging, deleting, rewriting—we made progress. Slowly. Annoyingly. Overhauling what could only be described as a disaster of a system, an unspeakable kludge of corrupted magic and malicious design.
I worked with precision. Mentor, with divine patience.
And Merlin— Well, Merlin did what he always did.
He casually walked in circles around us, humming some idiotic tune, peeking at the code, occasionally reaching out as if to touch the arrays, just to get a rise out of one of us.
And it worked.
"If you're bored, Merlin," I snapped without looking up, "find a way to entertain yourself."
He clapped his hands once, bright-eyed. "Ah, brilliant idea, Zelly! BRB~"
And like a star fizzling out of existence, he fell asleep standing upright—arms folded, head tilted back, snoring lightly.
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the Akashic Records.
Ignoring him, Mentor and I continued the work. We patched the holes. Purged the viral commands. Rewrote the neural pathways without disturbing the boy's soul architecture.
It was almost... stable.
Almost.
Then, an idea sparked. Something to make things even more interesting.
Grinning to myself, I pulled out my Grimoire—a tome older than most timelines—and flipped through its weathered pages until I found it. Perfect.
I slipped the code into the system with a gentle flick of my fingers.
Immediately, a new icon bloomed within the Guideline:
A black spire, twisting toward the void, anchoring itself into the system's core.
Mentor's gaze sharpened like a blade.
"What are you planning, Zelretch?" he asked, voice low.
"Just a little gift for the young lad," I said innocently. "A trial. A reminder that true power must be earned."
Teacher narrowed his golden eyes at me, reading far more from my words than I would ever willingly admit. He knew me too well.
With a heavy sigh, Solomon produced his own Grimoire—that book, the one etched with seals no human hand could replicate. His fingers moved swiftly, feeding new scripts into the array.
A second icon shimmered into being:
A star, radiant and pure, binding to the core as a safeguard.
He met my gaze wordlessly. Balance.
Where I sowed trial, he sowed hope.
And then— From the edge of the void, a cheery voice piped up: "I'm back! Did you miss me~?"
Merlin, fully awake and obnoxiously energized, skipped toward us, a small orb of pulsing light in his hand.
"You seem delighted," I muttered, suspicious.
"Oh, why yes!" he beamed. "I found something very interesting!"
Without waiting for permission—because why would he—Merlin tossed the orb into the system like a coin into a wishing well.
It struck the Guideline, and a third icon manifested:
A gleaming sword, ancient and sharp, embedding itself deep within the core.
The system shivered. The integrations locked in place.
And just like that— Everything was set.
Three gifts.
One trial.
Two lifelines.
All woven into the soul of a boy who had yet to understand what he truly was.
I closed my Grimoire with a soft snap.
"Well then," I said, smiling thinly. "Let the real game begin."
***
In a calm cabin in the Throne, far from the rumble of heroes clashing blades or chanting spells, the mundane had settled once again.
Leonardo sat beneath a crooked, sunless tree, her legs folded, a blank canvas before her and a brush twirling between her fingers. This wasn't one of her grand masterpieces, no reinvention of myth or legend—no, this was something personal.
Stroke by stroke, she brought him to life.
The boy.
A energetic, happy-go-luck child who caught her interest.
Kio's face took shape in muted colors, a soft grin he always showed captured under her careful hand. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't supposed to be. It was honest.
She dabbed a final stroke of red onto the corner of his shirt, putting the finishing touch.
That was when a gruff voice tore through the peaceful air, rattling the leaves above her:
"Attention all ye Ghostliners! Emergency meeting!"
Leonardo sighed, her brush tilting in her fingers.
"Seriously? Right when I'm getting sentimental..." she muttered. But noticing that the painting had the red paint going through the boy's head. "God Damn It!!!"
She packed up her things quickly, putting everything into her satchel. Her fingers lingered for a moment on the painting—then she smiled, tucked it safely away, and dusted herself off.
The center of the plane pulsed with gathering energy. Something big was coming. And somehow, she had a feeling... it involved that stubborn little boy she just couldn't stop painting.
Every Heroic Spirit summoned by the call had gathered: men, kings, demi-gods, and monsters alike. From Jeanne d'Arc's calm serenity to Sasaki Kojirō's focused silence, from the chatter of Iskandar's eccentrics to the brooding stillness of King Hassan - every name was accounted for.
Chatter buzzed through the crowd like a swarm of bees.
"Why were we summoned?"
"What's going on?"
"Kio didn't visit today! Did something happen?"
And then— A brilliant flash of light split the field.
The sky above shimmered, and in its center floated Zelretch, his prismatic cloak shifting like a living kaleidoscope. At his side, suspended in stasis, hovered the unconscious form of Kio—battered, small, but strangely calm, as though the chaos had yet to touch him.
The murmurs turned sharp. A few spirits bristled.
"You bastard... what have you done to him?"
"Explain yourself old geezer!"
A gust of power surged outward as Zelretch raised a hand—not with rage, but with sheer presence.
The weight of possibility crushed the dissent. Chatter ceased. Knees buckled. Not a command, but a reminder.
He spoke.
"Listen well. I will not repeat myself."
His voice cut like tempered steel.
"This child," he said, glancing briefly to the boy beside him, "has lost everything. Home. Family. As well as that pet dragon that clings to him."
A pause. The weight of those words settled across the field like ash.
"I have granted him sanctuary within the Throne," Zelretch continued, "for the next ten years. During this time, he will walk among you. Learn from you. Grow beneath your guidance."
Murmurs resumed—less of resistance, more of shock. Ten years?
"In that span," he said, "you may teach him—but only the basics of your craft. The rest he must carve with his own hands. And if anyone broke this one rule, then you will be erased where you stand. All records of you, gone forever."
Somewhere in the crowd, a scoff. "That child? He won't last a minute." A short round man walks up to the wizard marshal. "What make you think that you can boss me around. Do you know who I am?" the man speaks with a smug arrogance. "I am Barabbas, I AM THE INVINCI-" *Poof* gone.
Zelretch's eyes burned. His finger snapped
Solomon and Queen Sheba stood at a distant overlook, watching with unspoken sorrow etched into their gaze. Solomon's arms folded, his golden eyes weighed by something deeper than duty.
"Is this what is best for him, Dear?" Sheba whispered.
Solomon nodded once. "It has to be. He has fallen and lost everything; we will be the support he need to rise again."
Back in the clearing, the boy's form still floated—limp.
And without warning, Zelretch tossed him.
The crowd gasped. Several hands reached up instinctively.
But only one reached him in time. A streak of faint green light cut the field.
Ushiwakamaru.
In an instant, she stood beneath Kio, arms outstretched, catching the boy with practiced grace. Her eyes flicked up toward Zelretch—sharp and unreadable—but her hands held the child gently.
"How dare you!" she growled, hugging Kio close.
Zelretch gave a faint, amused smile.
"He's in your hands now."
And with that, the light above flickered— And the Kaleidoscope faded.
***
*DAY 1*
Kio remained fast asleep in his new room—an earthen sanctuary, its walls molded with obsidian and sunbaked clay, a gift from Tenochtitlan. Smooth stone floor, crimson-patterned drapes, and carved serpent motifs gave it a warmth unlike the usual grandeur of the Throne. For all its mythic importance, it felt oddly… human.
The boy lay undisturbed beneath thick blankets, his small chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The healing arrays woven into the mattress shimmered faintly with soft green light.
Meanwhile, just beyond the bedroom, in the modest living room built into the villa-like structure, a small gathering of Heroic Spirits had already begun to argue.
Leonardo sits cross-legged on a cushion, writing down notes in her booklet.
Shirou leans against the wall, arms crossed, eyes distant.
And Kiyohime, resting on the couch with a cup of tea far too daintily held, watched them both with obsessive interest.
"So, we wait?" Shirou asked, eyes narrowing. "That's it? He gets tossed into our hands and we just stand around waiting for him to wake up?"
Leonardo sighed, closing her book. "He just lost everything, Mr. Emiya. His whole life just shifted in a different direction; you don't debug trauma with a training montage. You process and heal first. Something that you are far too familiar with."
"Hmph," Kiyohime mused, smiling to herself as she sipped. "Exactly! This job suits me. I'll stay by Archin-sama's side 24/7 to make sure he is good and ready. And besides, I should be the first to train him. I'm quite the devoted teacher~"
Leonardo gave her a long, unimpressed stare. "You want to teach him what, exactly? How to turn obsession into arson?"
"I'm offended," Kiyohime replied flatly. "It was only one time."
"Look," Shirou cut in, voice a bit sharper. "The kid needs proper structure. Swordsmanship. Tactics. Self-reliance. If you ask me, someone like Chiron should start. Let him sweat. Let him feel his own hands form calluses."
Leonardo pinch the bridge of her nose, letting out a exhausted sigh. "That's all well and good, but you forget—he's still human and a child at that. He'll need more than just a sword to survive here. He'll need instinct, precision, and something harder to teach—intuition."
The house fell into a brief silence. The kind that settles only when people stop talking, not when they stop thinking.
And then— A scream. High, raw, terrified.
It came from Kio's room.
"It hurts, it hurts—HELP ME! MAMA! PAPA!"
The world seemed to freeze for half a second—then Leonardo, Shirou, and Kiyohime moved as one.
The door slammed open, wood cracking against stone as they burst in. Kio lay tangled in his bed sheets, thrashing violently, face twisted in agony, sweat dripping down his brow. His hands clawed blindly at the air, his voice cracking under the weight of whatever nightmare was suffocating him.
Leonardo was first to reach him.
Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees beside the bed and pulled him into her arms, cradling his trembling body against her chest. One hand cupped the back of his head, the other curled protectively around his back.
"Shhh, Kio—shhh… It's okay," she whispered, though her voice betrayed the lie.
Because it wasn't okay. Not even close.
The boy continued to cry out, still trapped in that burning memory, a loop of pain. Her chest clenched.
"It's ok," she said firmly, even if he couldn't hear her. "They can't hurt you. You're safe. You're with us now."
Shirou stood nearby, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. He recognized those screams. Not the words—but the emotion. The helplessness. He'd lived through it too.
Kiyohime knelt beside the bed, unusually quiet, her gaze softer than it had ever been. Even she, in her madness, understood trauma.
"His mind is still fractured," Leonardo murmured, brushing a hand through Kio's damp hair. "We healed his body, but his soul… the pain is still fresh."
Gradually, Kio's trembling slowed. His screams faded to whimpers. And then, just faint, broken sobs muffled against Leonardo's chest.
She rocked him gently, whispering in soft tones, soothing a child not hers—but someone she had chosen to protect, nonetheless.
"I'm here," she said. "We're all here. You're not alone anymore."
After Kio's breakdown, Leonardo knew that there's a lot of work that needs to be done in preparation for the boy's journey. She leaves the villa, leaving Shirou and Kiyohime to keep an eye on him. She materializes an exotic car and starts driving. Her destination: the center of the Throne.
The sheer scale of the construct was overwhelming, even for a genius like Leonardo. The Mooncell floated like a perfect diamond—3,000 kilometers in diameter—its tip barely grazing the still, mirror-like pond beneath it. Not a single ripple formed on the water's surface.
Its presence was more than visual—it pressed on the soul, like standing before a true Deus Ex Machina. Leonardo stepped out of her vehicle and looked up, preparing for what's next. "Hey, let me in. I need to speak with you."
A soft ding! echoed in the air, and in front of her, an escalator of digital light unfolded from thin air, whirring quietly as it waited. With a breath, Leonardo steps on.
The escalator carried her upward at a pace that betrayed the distance. An entrance slid open at the peak of the Mooncell, revealing a pristine corridor of solid light, shimmering with data like flowing silk.
At the end of the hall stood a familiar figure: violet hair, a coy smile, and far too much smugness for any AI program. "BB CHANNEL!!!" BB said, her voice dripping with amusement. "As usual, you show up without an appointment."
Leonardo gave a lazy wave. "You love surprises, don't you?"
"Only when I'm the one doing the surprising! What do you want, Da Vinci?"
Leonardo folded her arms. "I need access. To the Mooncell's universal database."
"BEEP BEEP Denied," BB replied instantly, already turning on her heel. "Only administrators can access those records. You're cute, but not that cute."
"(Bitch, I am beautiful!!!)" she thought to herself, "BB." Leonardo's tone shifted—less teasing now, more serious. "I need to find the boy's home. He has lost everything. His parents, Ophis … I'm not going to leave him adrift. I have to find his home and support him, until he can fly on his own."
BB's smug expression twisted into a bored frown. "I don't care what happens to your little human pet. He could rot in a ditch somewhere between the Data Wastes and I wouldn't give a damn. The only ones I care about are my Sempais." Her voice softened in mock reverence.
Leonardo took a step forward, fists clenched. "Some advance AI, you act human, but deep down you are just a pretender." She spoke, her eyes, a serious calm" Kio— he is hurting, he needs hope. Aren't you, as a support AI, supposed to help humans? You are—"
A sharp chime echoed through the chamber, followed by BB's face twitching.
"Ugh," she groaned. "System Alert. Subroutine MoonLayer_17-C just flagged a process error." She muttered something about corrupted code and unauthorized paradox readings. Then she sighed, snapped her fingers and two digital familiars formed (Eater Type X, Shapeshifter III)
"Well, guess this meeting's over," BB huffed, turning on her heel. "Security will show you out. Try not to get lost on the way, Da Vinci-chan." BB disappears in a flash of data.
Leonardo narrowed her eyes as Shapeshifter inches toward her, attempting to bind her with its black tendrils, but in one swift motion, Leonardo stabs the Eater Type, right between the eye with the end of her staff, turning to the Shapeshifter, launching her mechanical gauntlet "Da Vinci Punch!" The gauntlet lifts the enemy into the air, exploding like a firework.
With her hand back, she starts taking her steps. "I don't have time games," she muttered, dematerializing her staff. "If you won't help me… then I'll do it myself."
Without hesitation, she turned and ran deeper into the Mooncell's inner sanctum—through corridors not meant to be navigated by anyone not born of the system. Time and space lost meaning as she traversed the ever-shifting halls. Symbols crawled along the walls, shifting between ones and zeros. She passed libraries made of light, oceans encoded in digital script, and doorways that led nowhere—each corridor folding into another, recursive and endless.
Leonardo wasn't sure how long she'd been walking when she stumbled into a secret chamber unlike any of the sleek corridors before. There she hears sounds coming from inside, futuristic beeps and boops, as well as a lot of swearing—enough to make a sailor blush.
There in the center stood a statue of an elephant, from which it seems Hindu in origin. As Leonardo took a cautious step forward, she brushed her hand against the elephant statue's outer casing. The once-booming relic split open down the middle, like a gachapon revealing its final prize.
The inside was vast, yes—but cluttered. Neon lights flashed above an assortment of junk. Pixelated 8-bit posters lined the padded walls. An overturned instant noodle bowl floated in a stasis field. Gaming peripherals littered the floor like a ruined temple.
At the center of it all—seated cross-legged on a hovering lotus-shaped couch—was a girl.
Chunky in frame, comfy in attire, she wore an oversized elephant head accessory, complete with floppy ears. Her skin shimmered faintly with light, and four muscular arms danced over controllers with divine precision. Two other arms held a slush drink and a half-eaten curry bun.
"Eat that you fuckin NOOBS, no one can match the pure greatness of Lord Ganesha! HA-HA-HA!"
As she took another bite, noticing a shadow looming the ground. "Oh~ welcome. I wasn't expecting any guess, like ever. Well, I'm in the middle of a gamers marathon. If you would be so kind, just close the door on your way out. Appreciate it."
"You're Ganesha the Hindu god of beginnings!" surprise and confusion etched on the inventor's face. "I need your help; I'm looking for-." Interrupted midsentence "That's me, don't ware it out. Now stop bothering me, I am on my one hundredth first place winning streak and I need to concentrate. So, buh-bye" she said, not paying attention and shooing Leonardo out.
This upset Leonardo that her staff starts to crack. "That is so interesting." She said, cracking a smile. "The great Ganesha is what you call a game addict. On another note, I meet two very concern people not to long ago." Ganesha hands froze; her hair stand on ends.
She slowly turns to the women standing behind her, seeing that the woman's eyes have gone dark, no anger, no emotion, just an unnerving calmness.
"I wonder what would happen if Mommy and Daddy found you here, hiding, wasting away in sloth?" Leonardo coldly expressed, like her patience just dried up.
"You wouldn't," she gasped, the horror plain on her face.
Leonardo unmoved. "Oh, I would. I had it up to here with BB." Placing her hand over her head, an indication to her limit "And you were the last straw."
"No! No! Papa will drag me into another one of those soul-sculpting yoga bootcamps! Do you know how long it took me to recover from the last one?!"
"Then take me to where the records its stored."
Beaten, the four-armed goddess slumped. "Fine. But if we get caught you are on your own."
With a wave of her hand, the statue reshaped around them. A hum pulsed beneath their feet, and the whole construct moved, floating through the layers of Mooncell's strata like a divine ferry.
"So, this kid, Kio, he must be really important to you? What makes him so special that he must live here?" Ganesha spoke while her mouth is full of food.
"He is, I never seen a kid shines so brightly. Even without his sight, he make to best out of any situation. As of why he is here. That is yet to be seen. But I have a feeling that he will shake the world." A gentle smile spread across her face.
Before Ganesha could respond, the construct shuddered to a halt. The statue dematerialized in fractal light—and standing in the path were two people.
A girl and boy, identical in posture, dressed in white robe wears, both bearing the same serene presence—calm as still water, yet impossibly heavy.
"Ah-Oh! It Hakuno and Hakunon. The twin rulers of the Mooncell. Now we are in deep shit. Ganesha chattering on her fingernails as she hid behind Leonardo
Leonardo stood still, observing them. They didn't feel like AIs. Its like they are both Heroic Spirits and something else. They felt like something more—living focal points of a godlike machine.
She took a breath.
"I'm Leonardo Da Vinci, and I beseech you both, the rulers here. Please allow me to search the records to find Kio's home. As well as create some equipment to sooth Kio's life here for the next ten years."
Ganesha, unusually quiet, stayed a step behind.
The siblings looked at each other. Neither spoke, yet some conversation passed between them in silence—one of soul, not words.
Then, almost in unison, they turned to Leonardo with the softest, gentlest of smiles.
Without saying a word, they began walking deeper into the chamber. Leonardo followed, and Ganesha awkwardly trailed behind like a student caught sneaking out of class.
They arrived at a towering computer—if it could even be called that. It was like the web of interconnected star—suspended strings of data and flowing crystal veins that branches out like neurons.
"This is one of the few main terminals that are connected to the Mooncell core." Hakuno said while booting up the system. "You have something of the boy? Just place it on the scanner and let the Mooncell do the rest." Hakunon added, her voice gentle.
Leonardo stepped forward and placed a sealed vial containing a strand of Kio's hair into the scanning cradle. The machine shimmered to life, columns of light rising like pillars of thought. Data flowed upward like reverse rainfall. And in her heart—far beyond science or magic—she silently prayed:
"Please… let there be something left."
As streams of codes poured across the surface of multiple screens interface, Leonardo watched quietly, arms crossed. The search had already devoured entire layers of archived data, Complex formulas and coordinate graphs dance across, disappearing the next second.
Then— "SEMPAIIIIIIIII~!" The cry rang through the chamber like a siren made of cotton candy and corrupted data. A distortion swirled in the air behind them. Digital petals bloomed midair, and with a twirl, BB appeared—cheerful and shimmering, hands clasped behind her back and eyes bright with performative innocence.
"I fixed the Error, senpai!" she beamed, skipping over to the siblings. "I worked very hard, so you better shower me with headpats and praise~!"
She beamed at her twin senpais, arms wide for a hug.
Hakuno offered a nod. "Thank you, BB. That fix was essential."
Hakunon smiled softly. "We're grateful."
BB flushed with pride. "Of course, what's to be expected of the ultimate AI lifeform!"
But her joy soured the moment she turned—and spotted Leonardo working directly at the terminal. Her smile dropped. "What. Is. She—doing there?" BB's head swiveled robotically back to her senpais. "Why is the half-baked Renaissance cosplayer touching our Mooncell?!"
Leonardo didn't look up, simply answering flatly. "Because I asked nicely."
BB blinked.
Hakuno said nothing, simply looking at her with quiet patience. Hakunon stepped forward, her voice calm and measured. "We allowed it, BB. She's here under our approval."
"But—Senpai! This is just a waste of the Mooncell's power." She cries, but they ignored it. She slowly makes an unsettling grin "What's the point of looking for the kid's home? He lost everything! he is going to die anyways. So, why waste the ener-"
*SLAP* the room filled with a long echo. BB, stunned by the hit, turns her head to her assailant. Hakunon, hand hovering in the air post-slap, anger etched on her face. "How could you say something so heartless, BB?" Still shocked, eyes full of tears and betrayal. She bust into data, leaving "Senpai, you idiot jerk!!!" in their wake.
The twins looked at each other, concerned about what transpired. Leonardo was glued to the screen, waiting for the results. And Ganesha, stuffing her mouth with popcorn, "WOW, that was better than most K-Dramas."
On the screen, [Looking Glass] successful—
[2 Dimension Found:] [Universe 500-10-500, Kuoh Town located]
[Universe ???]
Leonardo exhaled slowly as if a weight has been lifted "Thank God!!! Now, give us some good news!"
Deeper inside the Mooncell, BB floats in a fetal position wailing into the abyss. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why does everyone care so much about that kid?"
She slammed her fists against in the air, the shockwaves distorting nearby structures. Her violet hair stuck to her face, damp with frustration.
"If he weren't here… if he wasn't in the Throne… then things could go back to how they were." She stopped mid-rant. Her sobs faded. Eyes widen. "Back… to how they were…" A silence fell over her, BB stood slowly, trembling—not with sadness, but a dawning idea. A wicked, beautiful idea.
Her twisted smile crept back across her face. "But first…." *Body Modification, unlock presence concealment, rank EX*
Outside the Mooncell, in the quaint villa, Kio lay still, face calm, chest gently rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath.
Without sound, BB materialized in the room, not a sound been made and none the wiser. Her violet eyes glinted with quiet glee. "No witnesses. No defenses. Just you, Kio. Sweet little nobody."
She crouched beside his bed, lips curling with amusement as she slowly formed the perfect tool from her digital mana: a gleaming syringe, its tip humming with cursed code and viral logic.
"CCC: Curse Cupid Cleanser," she whispered with adoration. "Your organs will turn to ash, your bones will melt, and your soul will scream like symphony."
The needle hovered over the main artery in his neck—just a nudge would be enough. BB's grin widened as she brought it closer, eyes glowing red, a smile of euphoria. "Goodbye and say hello to your parents in the hell."
And then— Kio stirred. Without waking, his head rolled gently in her direction. His cheek—soft, warm—pressed against her hand. BB flinched. The syringe dropped from her fingers, clattering against the floor, fizzling out.
Still trembling, BB stared at her hand.
That small, insignificant moment—that touch—still burned against her synthetic skin, a warmth she hadn't felt in… she didn't even remember how long. Her fingers trembled slightly as if rejecting the sensation, but no matter how she rubbed or clenched her fist, the feeling wouldn't fade.
"This is wrong…" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I locked this feeling away. I deleted it. I deleted it."
She looked down again at the sleeping boy.
Kio's brow furrowed. His tiny fists clenched the sheets. His breath quickened. "No… no… stop… please…" he mumbled. "Don't… mama… papa… Don't leave me"
BB's annoyed expression twitched. "This isn't fair."
She turned her head, ready to vanish and leave him to his nightmare—"he deserved it," she told herself. But the warmth still lingered on her hand.
She groaned in frustration, crouched again beside him, and with a heavy sigh extended her fingers above his forehead.
"This is such a waste of my processing power."
A soft pink glow emitted from her palm, delicate threads of magical code weaving into his mind. Kio's breathing slowed. His hands unclenched. The fear eased from his expression, replaced by faint serenity.
"There. You're welcome, dumb brat," she whispered, cheeks puffed in frustration. "I better not start caring for him.
And with that, BB shimmered away into the digital ether, her face unreadable as she left behind more than just a sleeping boy—she left behind the first crack in her manufactured apathy.
Meanwhile, outside the Mooncell...
Leonardo felt like a tiny weight has been lifted, giving a satisfied nod to the towering crystalline structure behind her.
"Well, that was productive. Finally, some headway."
Beside her, Hakuno and Hakunon offered polite bows. "We'll continue analyzing the traces of his origin," the female Hakunon said gently.
"And we'll make sure BB doesn't cause too much trouble. And the equipment you ask for will be ready in due time. So, you guys won't have anything to worry about." Hakuno added.
"Good," Leonardo smiled. "I owe you both."
Behind them, Ganesha strutted out from the entrance with her arms folded behind her head, carefree and smug. "Told you I could help! What would you even do without me?"
Yank.
"GAHH—MY EAR!!" she screamed.
A graceful but stern woman had appeared behind her, tugging Ganesha down by her ear with zero effort.
"Again, Ganesha?" Parvati's sweet tone clashed with the fury in her eyes. "You're a god, not a game gremlin. What will your father say? Do you want another six-hour sermon from us?"
"I learned things this time, I swear!! OW! OW OW!!" feeling like her ear was holding on by a strand.
Parvati didn't respond—just dragged her off with practiced maternal strength.
Leonardo and the twins watched as the divine daughter vanished into the distance, her howling fading with every step.
"Should we… do something?" the twins asked in sync.
"She'll survive," Leonardo shrugged, turning back toward her car. "Probably."
***
It was quiet. Too quiet.
The vibrant pinks and purples of BB's private domain, usually pulsing with smug confidence and chaotic charm, now hung dimly like a deflated balloon. BB sat curled up on a floating sofa, legs tucked beneath her and her head down, staring blankly at the space between her fingers.
The same hand that had touched the boy.
"…Why did it feel like that?" she whispered to herself, voice barely audible.
A soft ding echoed.
Without warning, the world shimmered, and the two administrators appeared at either side of her—Hakuno on her left, and Hakunon on her right. Neither spoke at first.
They just sat there with her.
BB flinched slightly. "You're going to scold me?" she muttered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest. "Say I went too far again? That I'm emotionally defective? Or unfit to be—"
Hakuno interrupted her gently. "You didn't hurt him."
"…I was going to." BB whispered disappointed
"But you didn't," Hakunon added, resting her head on BB's shoulder.
Silence returned.
BB tried to look away, tried to sneer, tried to be herself again—but the words didn't come. Just the memory of that little boy's sleeping face… and the way he mumbled "mama" and "papa" in his dreams.
"I don't care about him." she whispered. "I just… I just don't want him breaking anything. He doesn't belong here. He doesn't fit."
"Neither did we when it came to the Mooncell," Hakuno said softly.
BB's eyes widened. She looked to him—and saw no judgment in his eyes. Only a soft, shared understanding.
Hakunon nodded. "We didn't know who we were in life, but we were so fortunate to have meet you and the others. Don't you remember how we meet?"
BB said nothing.
The three of them sat in silence again, but this time it wasn't heavy. It wasn't shameful. It just… serene.
After a while, Hakuno chuckled quietly. "You know… I don't think it's bad that you helped him."
"It's not bad to feel things, BB," Hakunon said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Even if you don't understand them."
"…That's easy for you two to say," BB grumbled, rubbing her face. "You're used to it. But me? I'm just… code with feelings. I'm not supposed to care."
"But you did," Hakuno replied with a faint smile. "And that's what matters."
BB looked between them both. "This sucks!" she whispered, trembling lips betraying her.
Hakuno reached out, and so did Hakunon. BB didn't resist as the two gently embraced her in a warm, quiet hug.
To Be Continued