Bethlehem, a small city in southern Palestine with a population of less than 30,000.
In terms of natural conditions, resources, and geography, this place is nothing more than a backward and barren corner under the vast starry sky. Yet, it became world-famous for being the birthplace of one man, drawing millions of Christians from around the globe each year in pilgrimage, sustaining the local residents.
For this is the legendary birthplace of Jesus.
Manger Square, Church of the Nativity.
Inside the church, the ornate carvings and murals depicting stories from the Old and New Testaments, the marble altar covered in gold leaf and gemstones, and the stained glass windows glowing with holy light—all proclaim the sacredness of the site of Jesus' birth.
But the pillars, dome, and walls of the grand hall are scarred and weathered, old and new damage mingling, as if telling every visitor the tale of this ancient building's destruction and rebirth amid countless wars...
Within this ancient Christian relic, a dark crowd of believers, led by the chanting of nuns, solemnly sang holy hymns, praising the birth of the Lord.
With the full outbreak of World War III, this remote town was the first to be overwhelmed with people. Devotees from all over the world prayed for victory and peace. Naturally, their prayers were for Christ's victory—not that of any heretics.
Clatter clatter~
Sensing some kind of tremor, the bald middle-aged man in bishop's robes standing on the altar slowly raised his head. An earthquake?
No... something felt wrong. A bad premonition suddenly surged in the middle-aged man's heart.
That creaking sound seemed to come from above—from the church's own tower.
The next moment—crack crack—!
The centuries-old church spire, the Bethlehem Star cave said to have witnessed Jesus' birth, and the massive crucifix on the altar—all of them defied gravity and began to float lightly!
The entire Manger Square split in two. Cracks spread from the tremor, and people screamed, wailed, and prayed... Countless bricks, crucifixes, and other symbols of divine Catholic glory rose into the air without wind, transforming into meteors flying southeast.
Almost simultaneously:
In France, the spire of Mont Saint-Michel Abbey was torn apart.
In Italy, numerous pillars of the Church of Santa Maria were uprooted.
In India, the grand organ of St. Joseph's Church burst into the sky.
...
Across the world, the Roman Catholic Church, with over two billion followers and a long history of construction and cultivation, saw its countless churches and monasteries begin to collapse at that very moment.
Regardless of style, architectural philosophy, land, era, or cultural symbolism, the key components of churches and monasteries—stones, crosses, stained glass, sculptures, reliefs—all were drawn as if by magnetic force, howling as they tore free from the ground and flew east.
Toward the Strait of Malacca.
Toward the feet of the Fiamma of the Right.
Toward the celestial magic array formed by the ritual initiated with the Bethlehem Star.
Boom!!
From across the strait where Selene stood, a chain of thunderous explosions erupted.
"Authority... temporary?"
Murmuring the critical term, a faint trace of emotion crept into Aleister's tone. "It seems Lady Selene is hiding far more than I imagined."
There is a world of difference between authority and ability.
"Likewise."
Selene clasped her hands behind her back and smiled slightly, her crimson irises reflecting the upheaval across the strait. "After all, a little distance and a few secrets can bring people closer, don't you think? I've never tried to pry into your little secrets, Chairman."
One only needs to understand Aleister's ultimate goal to see that, if one discards unnecessary sympathy, he has no reason to strike at Selene.
Unless, of course, some master of persuasion descends from the heavens and talks him into betraying himself—abandoning centuries of planning with a single emotional outburst.
"I help you fulfill your goal, then inherit everything from you. You either die for your ideals or retire as a cripple. It's that simple. Relax—if you're still alive, maybe I'll even build a retirement home just for you."
"How generous of you, Lady Selene, to show such kindness."
Aleister let out a quiet laugh.
Having emerged from the life support apparatus, and with his brain activity now independent from computer assistance, Aleister had shown more emotional and facial variation recently than in the entire previous half-century.
"Such unashamed greed and ambition."
He looked across the strait toward that individual—the one he considered the proudest 'work' produced after Academy City's founding.
Why wasn't Selene his proudest creation? Others might not know, but Aleister was all too aware.
Her development and exponentially accelerating growth—he hadn't understood it at all.
How did she do it? From spatial abilities to what seemed like every other type—was she truly a prodigy? A natural-born scientific demigod?
"It's begun. The Star of Bethlehem," Selene's words drew Aleister's attention.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Rumble rumble—!
The sky blazed with starlight like a flowing galaxy. Streams of luminous radiance lit the heavens, converging and pulsing with gentle glow. A celestial body forged of ice and soil began to ascend—under cloudless skies.
In that moment, the stars of the universe seemed to shine brighter than ever before. Their light streamed through the warped, overgrown 'jungle' canopy and fell upon Selene, casting dappled shadows across her face.
Standing along the seaside cliff, Selene lifted her head. Her crimson eyes slowly widened, their golden, rhombus-cross pupils glimmering like brilliant stars in the night. Reflected in them was a radiant star shining at the zenith.
The Star of Bethlehem—recorded in the Gospel of Matthew as the great star that appeared in the sky at Jesus' birth in Bethlehem. The most revered celestial body in all of Christendom.
"So that's what it is... illuminating the darkness in people's hearts, guiding them to find humanity's savior, Jesus Christ... I see now, Selene. You intend to use the real Star of Bethlehem as the anchor for the artificial heaven."
As he saw the star manifest, Aleister glanced sideways at Selene's gradually curving smile. In that instant, he grasped the outline of her plan.
Spreading the Misaka Network and artificial heaven's infrastructure across the globe—this was just the first step. For Selene, everything had only just begun.
The fortress composed of religious architecture from around the world, bound together by Fiamma of the Right using an ultra-massive magic ritual—the "Fortress of the Star of Bethlehem"—was merely surface-level. What Selene truly awaited was the resonance with the symbolic star of Jesus Christ's birth:
The real Star of Bethlehem!
Neither Selene nor Aleister could control or guide that celestial star. After all, neither of them were believers. Not only did they lack piety, they scoffed at magic, mysticism, and divine faith.
One sought to replace it; the other sought to annihilate mysticism and the phases...
They were both supreme heretics, the kind that ought to be burned at the stake.
That kind of thing required someone like Fiamma of the Right—who sincerely believed he could save the world. Someone with power and status, who still thought himself a devout Roman Catholic, utterly convinced that his mission of "salvation" was righteous and just.
A hard-headed zealot who truly believed he was redeeming mankind.
That was the real reason Selene turned a blind eye to, and even encouraged, Fiamma of the Right's actions.
She waited... and waited—for this moment.
If Selene or Aleister had attempted it—even with better qualifications than Fiamma of the Right—the Star of Bethlehem likely wouldn't have responded at all.
Respond to Selene or Aleister? Please. The fact it didn't strike them down with divine lightning was miracle enough.
The stoic, unreadable expression on Aleister's face cracked. His mouth twisted upward in a grin he couldn't suppress. All that chairman's dignity? Gone. What was that, again?
"I look forward to it, Selene. I wonder what form your authority will take when it manifests before me."
Standing beside Selene, he raised a hand as if trying to grasp the brightest star in the sky. A laugh burst from him, strangely cheerful, as if all the emotions he'd buried for ages were released at once.
Selene gave no reply.
She walked calmly along the barren cliff edge, gazing toward the towering beam of light rising from the Fortress of the Star of Bethlehem. Her steps slowed.
"It should be about time... for the full deployment of the Bethlehem ritual."
...
Star of Bethlehem.
Clack clack clack—!
Now hovering at an altitude of 10,000 meters, the fortress had drawn together building materials from churches and monasteries all across the world. Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of sacred elements had fused into one massive construct.
The outline had taken shape: a gigantic cross-shaped celestial fortress, about 40 kilometers in radius, floating high above the clouds.
A castle-like core stood at its center, with long bridges extending in all directions—though their lengths varied. Upon them rested reassembled structures from around the globe: churches, monasteries, religious halls linked to Christendom.
Even after being disassembled and rebuilt, the architecture wasn't some crude patchwork or mindless assembly. It was crafted with the care of a master watchmaker repairing a broken timepiece—each element repurposed with meticulous artistry.
Like a grand restoration of ancient cathedrals, seamlessly fused with massive ice structures, it could only be described as a feat of divine craftsmanship.
"Pleh! Pleh pleh pleh!"
Spitting out dirty snow, Kamijou Touma had no interest in marveling at the view. He brushed off the dust and grime from his forehead and uniform.
The abrupt acceleration when the ground beneath them rose had pinned him hard to the surface. There hadn't been time for confusion—one blink and the surrounding fog had vanished.
Now all he could see was blue sky and white clouds.
And the roaring wind, cold air blasting up his nose, throat, and collar, made him shiver uncontrollably. He sneezed repeatedly. Of course he knew what this meant:
They'd been taken up—10,000 meters into the sky.
"Is everyone okay?!" he shouted, calling out to the girl whose hair had such a soft, fragrant scent.
"I'm fine! Ugh! Damn it, Purisaz Naupiz Gebo (Gift of Pain to Giants)—Hyun!"
Inside his mind, Stiyl's tired voice answered, followed immediately by a grunt of pain as he recited an offensive spell with barely restrained irritation.
"Cough cough, I'm under siege by the Roman Catholic Knights. Their strike force was brought up here too, onto the floating fortress by Fiamma of the Right. Whoever's nearest, give me backup."
"I see your flames. Hang in there, Stiyl! I'm on my way. 'Queen of the Adriatic Sea' got transferred here too. The Roman Catholic combat mages have their sights on me."
With the hum of a blade being unsheathed, Kanzaki Kaori's voice came through.
"Where are you?"
Amidst crackling arcs of electricity, Misaka Mikoto joined the mental link, her condition steady.
"Hey! You Level 0! The lady with the metal rings in her face has been blocked by us. According to Number Three, your ability can negate both esper powers and magic. Try seeing if you can dismantle this flying coffin! There's no way this thing is a scientific creation."
It was Mugino Shizuri's voice. Judging by her breathless tone, the relentless explosions nearby, and Accelerator's increasingly manic laughter, Kamijou Touma realized things on their end were in total chaos.
"...."
Kamijou exhaled slowly. As long as everyone was okay.
He worried about potential altitude sickness from suddenly being thrust this high, but aside from a slight throbbing at his temples, deep breaths caused no breathing difficulty or narrowed vision. He could still move.
"Alright!"
He answered while glancing at his right hand.
Placing his palm gently on the nearby stone wall—bzzzt—!
In an orange glow, the structure of ice, earth, and brick cracked immediately. About a meter of the surrounding wall crumbled. But under some unseen force, the falling fragments floated in midair and snapped back into place.
No good. There must be a core structure nearby—or the caster has to be taken down directly.
Having defeated so many magicians, Kamijou had some experience now and quickly drew a conclusion.
"Someone's missing!"
A voice rang out in his mind—but... whose voice was it? Every time he tried to remember this person's name, he couldn't. For some reason, it just wouldn't stick.
"Huh?! Who's missing?! What do you mean you can't keep track of people?!"
Before Kamijou could respond, Accelerator's agitated voice roared to life.
The voice belonged to Shokuhou Misaki. In the underground base, aside from managing internal comms and emotional stabilization, she also looked after the child. The moment she said someone was missing, Accelerator dashed out, his manic laughter silenced.
"Little Misaka is fine—she's right next to me. It's that little nun, Index."
At Shokuhou's words, Accelerator relaxed—but Kamijou's voice immediately shot up three octaves. "What?! Index is missing?!"
"Fiamma of the Right's celestial fortress brought you all up to 10,000 meters. I had to fully focus on syncing with the Misaka Network just to maintain the telepathic link. By the time I noticed, Index was gone. I asked the Schicksal troops—they said the little nun left to look for you."
"...."
Kamijou went numb.
Thinking about Index's personality, he couldn't blame the telepathic girl in the underground base. Index pulling stunts like this... it had happened so many times, he wasn't even surprised. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Only Kamijou Touma could react this way. If it were Selene, she wouldn't be anyone's patsy. For a teammate who rarely went godlike and usually just got in the way—even if they were close, she'd at least give them a good beating or two to teach them a lesson.
Cute? She'd still smack her. Let her cry about it later.
"Well, well, it's fine. I'll go look. Maybe she didn't get brought up to the fortress... hopefully."
Kamijou tried to reassure himself.
But the things you least want to happen... are often the ones that do.
Thud!
The heavy thump of something being dropped.
"You mean her?" came the mocking voice of Fiamma of the Right.
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