It started in the most absurd way possible.
With Reina saying, "Huh?"
She was standing in the middle of the principal's office, blinking slowly like her brain had momentarily stopped processing information. Across the room sat the school's principal, a kind middle-aged woman with a warm smile and eyes that looked far too amused for the situation to be normal.
The office smelled faintly of old books and coffee. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, making the polished wooden desk glow softly. Reina stood straight, hands resting calmly at her sides, though inside she was still trying to understand what she had just heard.
The principal leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk with an expression that clearly meant she had already decided something important.
"Reina," she said warmly, "I want you to take photographs for the institute's new album."
Reina blinked again.
Her brain searched for the correct response.
"…The school album?"
"Yes."
"…Photographs."
"Yes."
"…Taken by me."
"Yes."
There was a long pause.
Reina's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed the situation again.
"Huh?"
The principal laughed softly.
The new album was a special project the school administration had been planning for months. It was meant to introduce the institute to visitors, future students, and sponsors. The album would include photographs of the campus, students, activities, and the general atmosphere of the school.
Normally this kind of work would be handled by professional photographers.
But the principal had a different idea.
"I think you would be perfect for it," she said cheerfully.
Reina stared at her.
"I am a researcher."
"Yes."
"Not a photographer."
"You're also a genius."
Reina paused.
That argument was unfortunately difficult to counter.
Still, she considered refusing. Her lab projects were already time-consuming, and she had only recently begun balancing her schedule between research, exercise, and social interaction. Taking responsibility for an entire album sounded like unnecessary work.
Before she could say anything, ANIER spoke quietly in her mind.
"Analysis complete."
Reina sighed internally.
"Of course you're analyzing it."
"Probability of increased social interaction: 82%."
"I don't need eighty-two percent more social interaction."
"Correction: your social skill development remains incomplete."
Reina looked at the principal again.
"…You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
The principal simply smiled politely, pretending not to know what Reina meant.
ANIER continued calmly.
"Accepting the role will expand your social exposure across multiple student groups."
Reina inhaled slowly.
This was definitely an ANIER-approved mission.
She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking.
Then she sighed.
"…Fine."
The principal's smile widened instantly.
"Wonderful!"
Reina already regretted it.
When she returned to her lab later that afternoon, she placed her tablet on the workbench and leaned back slightly in her chair.
The quiet hum of machines surrounded her like familiar music. Shiro was sleeping peacefully near the window, completely uninterested in the new responsibility Reina had just accepted.
Reina tapped her pen lightly against the desk.
"If I'm going to do this," she muttered to herself, "I need a camera."
"Affirmative," ANIER replied.
Reina considered the options.
Buying a professional camera would obviously be the easiest method. Modern cameras already had excellent image sensors, powerful lenses, and reliable processing systems. If she simply ordered one online, she could start photographing immediately with guaranteed quality.
Simple.
Efficient.
Logical.
Reina stared at the ceiling.
"…But."
ANIER recognized the tone immediately.
"You want to build one."
Reina smirked slightly.
"I've always wanted to design my own camera."
"Estimated difficulty: moderate."
"Good."
"Generating roadmap."
A faint holographic interface appeared in front of her as ANIER quickly calculated the required components and assembly sequence.
Reina expected a long materials list.
She assumed she would need to purchase new sensors, special lenses, or additional electronic components.
Instead—
The list appeared surprisingly short.
Reina blinked.
"…Wait."
She scrolled through the list again.
"Are you telling me…"
"Yes," ANIER confirmed.
"You already possess all required materials."
Reina looked around the lab.
"…Seriously?"
She checked the list again.
The materials included:
High-resolution CMOS sensor module, Optical glass lens elements, Aluminum alloy frame housing, Micro image processor chip, Precision focus motor, Digital storage module, Rechargeable lithium battery pack, Signal processing board, Miniature cooling plate, Optical stabilization gyroscope, Transparent protective lens coating, Wireless data transmitter, Custom firmware chip.
Reina leaned back slowly.
"I already have everything."
"Correct."
"…Why do I have camera parts in my lab?"
"Your research often overlaps with optical analysis."
Reina sighed.
"That explains too much."
The project began that very evening.
Reina rolled up her sleeves and cleared a section of the main workbench. Tools were arranged neatly: micro-screwdrivers, soldering equipment, alignment sensors, and precision clamps.
ANIER displayed the assembly sequence step by step.
Reina started with the frame housing, carefully assembling the aluminum structure that would hold the internal components. Her hands moved with steady precision, tightening screws and aligning support plates.
Next came the image sensor.
She carefully mounted the CMOS module onto the processing board, connecting it to the signal circuits with microscopic wiring.
"Alignment tolerance: 0.03 millimeters," ANIER reported.
Reina adjusted the placement slightly.
"Better."
The lens assembly took the longest.
Each optical element had to be perfectly positioned to ensure clear focus and minimal distortion. Reina carefully stacked the glass components inside the cylindrical lens housing, securing them with tiny brackets.
Hours passed.
Shiro occasionally woke up to watch her work before falling asleep again.
Outside the windows, the sky gradually turned dark.
Reina didn't notice.
Over the next few days, the camera slowly took shape.
The internal circuits were connected to the image processor, allowing the sensor to convert light into digital signals. The stabilization gyroscope was installed to reduce motion blur, and the miniature cooling plate was added to prevent overheating during high-resolution image capture.
Reina also programmed custom firmware for the camera's control system.
"Integration with ANIER complete," the AI reported.
"Good."
This allowed ANIER to assist with automatic image enhancement, object recognition, lighting adjustments, and dynamic focus tracking.
Essentially, the camera had its own built-in artificial intelligence support.
Reina finished the final assembly late one night.
The device resting on the table looked surprisingly elegant.
A sleek black camera body with a polished lens and a small digital display.
Reina picked it up carefully.
"Moment of truth."
She pointed the camera toward a nearby workbench and pressed the capture button.
The shutter clicked softly.
The image appeared instantly on the display.
Reina stared at it.
"…That's sharp."
"Image clarity: excellent."
She zoomed in further.
Every detail was crisp.
Dust particles on the table surface were visible with perfect clarity.
Reina frowned slightly.
"That's… very detailed."
ANIER displayed the sensor specifications.
"Image resolution: 255 megapixels."
Reina blinked.
"…Wait."
She opened her tablet and searched for standard camera specifications.
Most high-end consumer cameras ranged between 20 and 50 megapixels.
Even advanced professional cameras rarely exceeded 100 megapixels.
Reina looked back at her own camera.
"…Two hundred and fifty-five?"
"Correct."
Reina slowly leaned back in her chair.
"…That might be slightly excessive."
ANIER responded calmly.
"Higher resolution improves image detail."
"Yes," Reina said quietly, "but people might ask questions."
She imagined the principal discovering the camera specifications.
That conversation would become complicated very quickly.
Reina sighed.
"…We're not telling anyone."
"Understood."
The camera was officially classified as "normal."
Very normal.
Completely ordinary.
Nothing suspicious about it.
The next morning arrived sooner than expected.
Reina had spent most of the night testing the camera's features, adjusting the firmware, and fine-tuning the focus calibration.
When she finally stood up from the workbench, the sky outside had already turned pale blue.
She walked slowly down the quiet hallway toward the school restroom.
The building was still mostly empty at this hour.
Inside the restroom, she splashed cool water on her face and looked up at the mirror.
Her silver hair was slightly messy from working overnight.
"…I should probably sleep."
ANIER responded immediately.
"Schedule conflict detected."
Reina sighed.
"Right."
The album project had officially started today.
She dried her face with a paper towel and adjusted her uniform slightly.
Then she returned to the lab.
The camera rested on the table where she had left it.
Reina picked it up carefully.
The weight felt perfect in her hands.
Balanced.
Precise.
Professional.
"Camera ready," ANIER confirmed.
Reina slung the camera strap over her shoulder and walked toward the door.
"…Let's see how this goes."
The morning sunlight filled the hallway as she stepped outside, carrying a camera that was secretly more powerful than most professional equipment in existence.
And somewhere deep in the system memory of ANIER—
A small log entry appeared.
Project Status: Success.