"Um... you are?"
Kamijou Touma froze as he looked at the strange man who had suddenly appeared behind Stiyl.
A man he had never seen before.
Faint scraps of green cloth hung from his body like charred rags clinging to a short, half-burned frame. His entire body was severely burned—blistered wounds snaking like winding ravines across his skin. His withered, blackened form was shocking to behold. How could someone with burns this severe still be walking?
But that wasn't what struck Kamijou most. It was the man's expectant gaze—like he was admiring his own greatest creation—that made him uneasy.
Kamijou hated that kind of look.
From this horribly burned man, he felt both deep disgust and a dangerously palpable sense of threat. Not like Selene, who might be dangerous yet somehow didn't make him worry she'd do something wrong.
It felt like this man had a deep connection to him—yet he couldn't recall what.
"Are... your burns okay?"
Even though Kamijou noticed Stiyl flinch subtly at the man's voice, his good-hearted nature couldn't help but show. Despite his instinctive dislike, he reached for the tactical first-aid kit strapped to his belt.
Since arriving at the Banda Aceh base in the Strait of Malacca to face the Roman Catholic Church's "Holy War" fleet, every Academy City operative had been equipped with one of these kits—including Level 5s like Accelerator and Misaka Mikoto, as well as magic-side fighters like Stiyl and Index.
Small, compact, life-saving—it wasn't a burden to carry.
Of course, someone like Index had probably lost hers by now.
"Aleister, you actually left Academy City!"
Stiyl abruptly turned, putting distance between them. He stared at Aleister—half his face burned beyond recognition, yet still identifiable—and was shocked that the man could leave his life-support device and brazenly wield such powerful magic.
That meant it was Aleister who had just triggered the "Star of Bethlehem." Stiyl's heart skipped a beat as his pulse spiked. He felt a deep sense of unease.
Within the Anglican Church, there was a long-standing belief: Aleister Crowley, the Director-General of Academy City, was actually the magic-side criminal—Edward Alexander Crowley.
But with no proof, neither magical nor scientific investigation could ever link the two.
Moreover, the accepted magic-side record stated that Crowley, the greatest criminal in magical history, was dead—his head claimed by an Anglican pursuit unit. To now declare that Crowley still lived would be tantamount to slapping themselves in the face.
For all these reasons, to the Anglican Church, Academy City's Aleister was merely someone with the same name—or using an alias.
But now, with the "Star of Bethlehem" and the strange change in Fiamma of the Right, Stiyl could confirm it: Aleister the Director was indeed Crowley the magician.
The bone-deep sense of danger drove away all Stiyl's earlier complacency. He was on full alert.
"Looks like you've realized something. Things have gotten complicated, Stiyl... Right now, I have no energy to oppose the Anglican Church. And the real enemy is coming. Standing together against it is the optimal choice, don't you think?"
Aleister paid no mind to Stiyl's caution.
Even if Kanzaki Kaori herself were here, Aleister might not give her more than a glance. The only one who could make him take notice would be that "mother fox" ensconced in St. George's Cathedral.
Creak—
Before their eyes, fresh new flesh visibly wriggled over Aleister's face. Unlike the electronically synthesized voice he had while submerged in his life-support device, the magnetic, mechanical tone of his real voice was now clearly audible as his charred lips parted.
"Aleister... y-you're the Director-General?!" Kamijou Touma's anxious expression instantly vanished, his eyes widening.
"The one and only."
In mere seconds, a third of the burned portion of Aleister's face regenerated new skin. He gazed intently at the one creation he had poured so much effort into.
"Kamijou Touma, now is the moment for you to fulfill your true worth."
To be blunt, the very creation of Academy City was, in a way, Aleister's imitation of the Thelema Temple—a place to fulfill his own designs. It served as the breeding ground to summon the long-lost Imagine Breaker.
Through years of planning, Academy City became the perfect cultivation ground tailored to the Imagine Breaker host's nature—the best stage for Kamijou Touma to unleash his violence without restraint.
Accelerator, Kakine Teitoku—compared to Kamijou Touma, they were expendable.
And Touma had lived up to expectations. Aleister held high hopes for the true hidden power within him...
As for Selene—she was perhaps the most unexpected, and greatest, windfall Aleister had ever gained from creating Academy City.
At first, Aleister hadn't paid her much attention—merely extended an official invitation upon discovering her as a "Gemstone."
Even though the offer was the most generous ever made to a Gemstone found outside the city, given Selene's already abundant resources and the overwhelming talent she displayed at awakening, how could any offer compare to the opportunities she already had since childhood?
And this wasn't Aleister's sole decision—it was agreed upon by multiple ability research institutes and the Board of Directors, who deemed it a worthwhile investment.
Spatial ability users—you could never have too many.
Especially one whose abilities, even from image data alone, marked her as at least a Level 4.
And indeed, the investment paid off—almost too well. They had, in effect, brought home a "parent." By now, most had accepted this reality willingly.
Not out of weakness—there was simply no resisting it. Honkai energy was too alluring, a temptation no researcher could refuse. Especially in Academy City, the breeding ground for mad scientists.
"Fulfill my worth?" Now that he knew Aleister's identity and overwhelming power, Touma figured he wouldn't need to render first aid. He snorted lightly, putting down the first-aid kit, and thumped his chest with his remaining left hand. "Naturally. No need for you to tell me."
"No, the worth I speak of isn't in your current crippled state."
"Make the most of it—the chance to grasp your ability has arrived." Gripping his Mage's Staff of Shock, Aleister tilted his head upward.
As his words fell—
A piercing cry split the sky.
"FU~CK FU~CK FUCK~ING—"
With that crude chant, a massive arc of lightning ripped upward past the floating fortress.
Two figures descended.
The first was a woman with long silver hair in twin braids, brown skin, and red-rimmed glasses.
Her upper body was bare save for overalls worn directly against her skin—an outfit far too revealing, whether on the street or in the skies. Eccentric at best.
But then again—wasn't everyone here an oddball?
Given the bizarre attire preferences of magicians, Kamijou Touma had more or less gotten used to it.
The second figure was a slender, slightly short white youth with blue eyes and waist-length golden hair, carrying a strangely feminine air. His outfit was a coordinated mix of yellow and black, topped with a shoulder-draped mantle.
And... huh?!
That lightning earlier—it was coming from a lump of iron, floating in the air! It shifted between cylindrical, spherical, and cubical shapes. Was that a magical item?
"Honestly, that Othinus ran off and abandoned the mission. Who knows what new plaything she's found in this world? Hey, Thor, is that man pinned to the ground an old acquaintance of Othinus's? He doesn't look like much."
Humming her crude tune, the brown-skinned woman rested a golden hammer on her shoulder, clicking her tongue as she sized up the battered Kamijou and his group.
"Who knows. Othinus's interest is piqued when she finds something amusing. The aura of the science side's strongest has already faded. What a pity. Someone that strong could've been a glorious addition to my list of worthy opponents. Defeating her would have given me a ton of experience points."
"Such a shame..."
The beautiful man named Thor spread his hands, as if genuinely regretful.
"Bullshit!!"
At those words, Kamijou's eyes instantly reddened.
"That was Selene! There's no way she'd lose to the likes of you!"
"Facts speak for themselves. Her aura's gone. Blame her for picking the wrong opponent..." Thor gave a crooked grin. "As for Othinus—she's an ascended Magic God."
The implication: Othinus could never lose.
Crack!
In that moment, the thread of reason in Kamijou's mind snapped.
"I'll kill you all—!!"
With his roar, the empty right shoulder erupted with invisible force once again, violently sweeping away dust and AIM fields alike. In an instant, a ferocious dragon's head burst from his severed shoulder, followed by another... and another—until eight terrifying heads reared back, bellowing at the sky.
"Good. Now we're talking. I may just be Gremlin's combat agent, but if our willful leader has already struck at your strongest, then this means war between Gremlin and Academy City."
Bzzzzt!
With a rising chant in runic verse: "Thunraz (Lightning)!"
As his name suggested, Thor hailed from the Norse god of thunder, and his mastery of Norse lightning magic was considerable.
Hair, fingers—everything lit up with pale blue-white arcs. From his slim fingertips sprang blinding arc blades several meters long, glowing like welding torches—flickering and lethal.
With his chant complete, the arcs lengthened in an instant. Golden-haired Thor wore a confident smirk as he swung the cutting blade forward.
A crisp snap rang out—like the sound of metal being sheared. The lead white dragon head gave a pained cry before being neatly sliced, like scooping goldfish with a paper net. Under the arc's relentless slicing, it shattered completely, dissolving into motes of light.
It seemed only one person here could give him the kind of experience he craved.
Aleister!
The man rumored to have refused godhood—the greatest magician of the modern era!
Was he overestimating himself? Perhaps. But Thor relished battles like this.
Despite his gentle appearance, ever since learning Norse magic, he had risked his life time and again, seeking out the strongest opponents for the sake of "experience points." A true battle maniac.
As his formal challenge, Thor decided to honor Aleister by entering his "Allfather" mode. "I am Thor, God of Thunder, servant to the glory of the northern gods—"
Wait—
The moment the words left his mouth, Thor locked eyes with Aleister and froze. The expression staring back at him was utterly lifeless—like one might look at a corpse.
In that instant, searing cold shot up from his feet to his crown. The primal terror between life and death gripped him, his sixth sense screaming: You're going to die, going to die, going to die!
Who?!
"Thor! Dodge—!" came the torn-throated scream of a comrade.
A split second later—schhk!
In the blink of an eye, the entire Star of Bethlehem echoed with a wailing groan.
Countless cracks, as though from a colossal impact, spread instantly across the fortress's thick walls—and continued to widen.
Thor's preparations for Allfather mode were cut short, blood flecked with bits of organ spraying from his lips. His eyes bulged in disbelief. "Impossible!"
How are you still alive?!
"God of Thunder, Thor?"
As if she'd just heard a joke, the platinum-armored beauty returned like a bolt of lightning. In the time it took to blink, she pierced Thor's abdomen, seized the diminutive man by the throat with one hand, and sneered openly.
Selene laughed aloud. This dainty, effeminate man dared call himself Thor? If the believers of Norse mythology saw this, their faith would crumble.
"Bastard, let go of Thor!" The brown-skinned beauty stared at the tall, resplendently armored figure, her heartbeat skipping a beat without warning. A crushing sense of dread welled up inside her. She shouted, but anyone could hear the thread of unease in her voice.
Whump—!
Before she could even lift her golden hammer or trigger her spell, bones cracked sharply. She found herself lying in a fractured pit, pain knifing through her body—limbs broken, chest visibly caved in.
Her ribs were shattered.
Even the floating iron ingot didn't escape—Selene stomped it deep into the ground.
"I... was wondering why I didn't see you Gremlin stragglers in Denmark. Othinus's leftovers."
Tossing the pretty boy to the ground, Selene turned to Aleister and, in high spirits, snapped her fingers.
"My phase is complete. For the remaining stage, Director, if you have any ultimate weapons—bring them out. They're here..."
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