Let me tell you a tale that happened before it began.
School District 7—home for the school institutions, the mysterious Windowless Building, Judgement 177 Branch, etc. Home to the most main characters within the series, the residents whom you would not want to mess with. The unfortunate young fellow who was currently burrowing deep beneath the ground of the District 7 had no knowledge of all this. He also had no idea that he was in Japan, even, of all places.
He was in for a nasty surprise when he decided to dig up to the surface to check out the surroundings. The earth rumbled; the surrounding ground began to form cracks as a mining machine, one and a half cubic meter large, began to climb upward, toward the cold, hard surface. The machine itself resembled the mining pod shown within the classic Motherload flash game, with diamond bit drill, titanium hull, V16 turbo engine, Quad-turbine radiator, and various other electronics and equipments that would make any engineer drool with envy.
The darkly tinted and round glass top casing opened up to reveal a young man with spike blonde hair and a navy blue jacket. He immediately began to tut impatiently at his GPS.
"I was under the impression that I was at Nanjing," he grumbled. "I probably should've taken that left turn at Albuquerque." He tapped at the screen of the device, shaking it. "The materials within underground threw the satellite calculations way off..."
He looked up—he was surrounded by ghetto-ish buildings, a strip of them at each side, with the sky being covered by the blankets stretching from one row of the buildings to the next.
"Where am I anyhow? And who goes through all this trouble to cover the sky up?" He squinted. "For rain? Those blankets don't look too waterproof. Unless..."
The GPS was currently haywire, unable to precisely indicate the position it was currently within. Judging by the smashed up surveillance cameras, he surmised that he was within a criminal part of the city. The tarps were most likely there to obfuscate satellite surveillance and interaction, which would explain his faulty GPS.
This was pretty inconvenient, considering the fact that he was in the middle of an actual run from hostile parties; he currently was in an area where it could be infested with mages, determined to have his head at all costs.
He began to check out his machine, observing it for damages. Perceiving the narrow strip of road between the two columns of houses, the young man began to prepare to initiate Sleep Mode for his Mining Pod; as no one seemed to have noticed the fact that he dug up from the ground, he decided to place the pod back within the created hole and smooth over the surface for the time being. He would retrieve it later on when able. For now, dragging around a heavy machine did no favor to keep him under cover.
The deed being done, and being satisfied with its temporary shelter, he decided to figure out where he exactly was before choosing his next course of action. He walked past the boundary of the run-down part of the city and quickly discovered the mass of buildings that inhabited this place. People moved about in their daily activities, full of livelihood.
Judging by the verbal voices and street signs, he was apparently in Japan... which meant that he was drilling under the ocean on his way here... which he should have noticed.
"...Welp."
He was still yet to figure out all the tricks and mechanics of his machine, it appeared.
Becoming increasingly famished by his lack of meal for most of the day, he began to head toward one of the nearby restaurants with the logo "Joseph's" written on top.
"Welcome!"
The handsome waitress led him to an empty table. Placing a water and a menu on the table, he picked up his notepad.
"What would you like?"
"I think I'll have some Suzette. Could you please make that crepe?"
"A Crepe... Suzette..."
"Thank you."
Collecting his menu the waitress left the table.
Using his phone he began to analyze the area he was in. Called School District 7, it was part of the famous Academy City, center of power research facility.
"Doesn't look too futuristic. They said the technology of this place exceeded 20 years above everybody else." He looked around. "At least add some flying cars or something... Maybe a touch of 3D realistic movie advertisements physically popping off the billboard. Couple of Godzilla's. This is beneath my expectation." He sighed.
A piece of index card appeared with a small but bright flash of light, placed upon the desk. It had a single sentence written upon it.
Help the nun outside the window.
A message from him-from-the-future! That didn't happen often. Placing the index card back into his jacket, he turned his gaze toward the outside through the restaurant window. There lay a nun, as the note foretold, upon a bench, looking pitiful as much as possible.
Getting up and strolling outside, he entered the streets and walked near the bench. With gentle motions he prodded the nun.
"Touma... so... so hungry..."
"Hey."
Lifting her head, the nun saw a teenager standing over her, her savior, the one who would give her food.
"Food..." she whispered.
For a petite, skinny girl, she ate more than a sumo wrestler. He already counted the amount of dishes on the table; she was eating at the estimated pace of 1 full course meal per 10 minutes.
"Youmf see," she talked while eating food simultaneously. "Touma lefmpt me allmph allonp whilif chasingmph anothrmph magifician."
"I see," Tachyon replied, while not managing to understand a single word she said. The rolled up receipts at the side of the table grew and grew over time.
"Ah, now that was nice!" She wiped her mouth with a tissue after drinking some water. "Thanks. I was starving the whole day!"
"Ah, well, you know." He leaned back. "Always here to help..."
"My name is Index!" The white nun introduced herself with energy. "Nice to meet you!"
Index. A name frequently discussed within the avid and deep insiders of the churches. Famous in the world of magic, she appeared to be. What was it again?
"Index Librorum Prohibitorum..." He muttered.
"Hey, that's my full name!" she smiled in delight. "How did you know?"
"The one with 103,000 grimoires."
"That's me!" Index beamed, but then right after, suspicion rose on her face. "Hey, you are not a Magician, right?"
"Nope. A regular Esper."
"Ah, that's good," she smiled. "I would be in a lot of trouble if I was sitting here talking to someone who would try to kidnap me."
A manga-esque sweatdrop formed on the back of his head. "Maybe you put too much trust in my words? I could be lying, for all you know."
"You don't have that kind of overall aura of a Magician," she replied with conviction.
"Probably not," he replied, "since I can't use magic."
"It is a bit surprising to see an Esper know so much about magic," she observed him, chewing her lips. "What's your name?"
He grinned. "Tachyon. Time Manipulator at your service."
"Tachyon…?" She mouthed his name on her tongue.
"Yep. Which reminds me." He took out a piece of index card out from his jacket. Taking out a mechanical pencil, he scribbled a sentence onto the paper.
Help the nun outside the window.
Placing the note upon the table, he closed his eyes, and concentrated.
Over time, atom by atom, the molecules of the index card disappeared, converted into tachyon particles. They slowly traveled off the piece of paper with a faint, bluish glow.
Index gaped at the spectacle while clapping softly. "Cool! That was amazing! What did you do?"
"I just told myself to help you," he replied, filled with pleasure at her compliment.
Index frowned. "Huh?"
"You see, the reason why I noticed you outside the window in the first place was because of the note sent by me to me. Sent by me right now, which would be me-from-the-future in my point of view twenty minutes ago. Right now I have to send the same message, word for word, back to me-from-the-past, in my point of view right now, in order to avoid a temporal collapse."
Index tilted her head sideways. "Wait, so..."
"Basically, I told myself to help you twenty minutes ago."
"But that's impossible..."
"So is magic, as people believe," he raised his shoulders as he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. "Yet here we are. Tell me, Index, is there anything within your 103,000 grimoires that teach people how to travel through time?"
"I can't tell you much of the details, but I can say that it is strictly regulated by authorities in the Magic Side and extremely hard to initiate and control."
"Well, there you go," he smiled. Then, his gaze dropped down with a grimace. "The only hope for South Korea to be at the same competing level as the rest of the world... Moi."
"Can you communicate to the future with it?" Index asked.
"The theory I'm currently toying with is that manipulating with the future is exponentially harder compared to manipulating with the past," Tachyon replied. "It takes me a great amount of energy each time I transmigrate objects to transport them into the past, even for a space of twenty minutes. I have not yet attempted communication with the future in fear that one, it may cause a time paradox that I cannot control or remove, and two, I may not possess enough energy or knowledge to do it. This is not a power I can just use willy-nilly."
Which means, there was a significant reason as to why I told myself to help this nun, Tachyon surmised, as he leaned back on his chair, his arms folded.
Everybody in the restaurant immediately began to shield their eyes because of the light literally illuminating from Index. Sparkles came off of Index's starry eyes as she began to imagine all the possibilities of Tachyon's powers.
"Oi, oi," he muttered while averting his gaze and shielding with his hand. "You're getting too impressed..."
"Ah!" Index said, breaking off her reverie. "I see her! HEY! Tanpatsu!" She waved to someone behind Tachyon.
"The name is Mikoto Misaka," the newcomer grumbled in reply. "At least have appreciation for the name of the person who bought you food, idiot!"
Misaka then glanced over at the teenager sitting on the table alongside Index. "Ah..." Misaka purred, with a sly look on her eyes. "Ditching that idiot for another man already?"
"Not true!" Index replied, looking indignant at the accusation. "He just happened to walk by me starving and he helped me regain my strength, that's all!" She crossed her arms, huffing.
"My, my... what would he think?" Misaka smiled.
"Touma wouldn't care, he only cares for my well being." She stuck out her tongue at Misaka.
"Well, whatever." Misaka glanced at the clock on the wall. "My friends are supposed to be here right now."
"Oh, Tanpatsu," Index continued. "Meet my new friend! His name is Tachyon! He can do this really cool thing—"
One quick look of warning from Tachyon made her stop in the middle of her sentence.
"Um, he can do cool things, like, uh..."
"Play harmonica," he interrupted.
"Yes, play harmonica." Index beamed. "He plays it very well!"
"I see..." Misaka raised her eyebrows. "Nice to meet you."
"Same." Tachyon replied. He did not need introduction with her—Mikoto Misaka, Number Three in terms of research importance in Academy City. In his methodically thorough research on all great powers within the world, she was on the A list.
"Well, I think I'll wait here until they come—"
"ONEE-SAMA!" A voice rang out across the restaurant.
"There she is..." Misaka sighed.
"My my! Onee-sama!" A girl, with her twin pigtails hair tied with red ribbons, flounced to her idol. "What are you doing here, conversing with these peasants! See, that skank has already found another man!"
Tachyon observed the veins popping off of Index's head from those accusations.
"An Elementary grader ojou-sama calling her seniors peasants," Tachyon commented. "What has the world come to? Where did all the 'respect the elder' and filial piety tradition in the East go?"
"Excuse me?" The girl replied with an angry tone, although bystanders might've been amused at her change in pitch. "As you can clearly see with this uniform, I am in Middle School! Furthermore, I'm simply caring about your well being! If Onee-sama were to be upset, your life span would shorten dramatically."
"Heh," Tachyon chuckled. "Wanna bet? I can deal with the likes of you with two hands behind my back."
"Now that's inexcusable!" She began to sputter with—rather mock—indignation. "Rash commoners like you won't be able to deal with Tokiwadai's Railgun! Come, onee-sama." the girl began pushing her older friend out from the vicinity. "We must be going!"
"Wait, Kuroko! Kuroko!"
"Come on! Places to go, people to see."
"Kuroko!" The volume of their argument decreased as they slowly departed from the scene.
"Well, I must be going also." Tachyon rose from his seat. "It was nice meeting you, Index."
"Eh? Going already?" Index looked up. "Well, I have to go looking for Touma, I suppose."
"Catch you later." Leaving the cash upon the table, he walked off. He needed to decide what to do in this current situation.
The first thing he needed to do was to go back and dig out his Driller. Perhaps he would head toward his original destination this time around. But, as he was previously trapped within that machine for twelve hours, going back inside that thing was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment. The efficiency of his Driller gave no room for comfort, unfortunately.
"Judgement!" said a deep, nasal, yet mature voice behind Tachyon. He turned around to see Shirai, standing while tugging her armband emblazoned with the Judgement symbol.
"I have heard first-hand accounts of firearm display in this area—it's you!" Kuroko's eyes narrowed in anger. "The one with Onee-sama back then!"
"Me," Tachyon replied. "Ah, you're that Elementary schooler. Or Middle schooler. Hard to keep track," he grinned.
Veins popped on Shirai's forehead. "Firearms are deemed illegal in Academy City. You will be—"
"But it's not a firearm," Tachyon interrupted her. "Watch." Taking the gun out, he aimed it toward the ground and fired.
Shirai automatically teleported out of instinct several meters away—a small, white plastic ball shot out from the barrel, spiking the ground; it bounced around harmlessly. "Totally not deadly. Used by kids. In South Korea, at any rate."
Shirai was not impressed. "As I said, firearms are deemed illegal. Please come with me."
"Oh?" Tachyon shrugged his arms. "And why should I?"
"If you don't, I'll have to take you in by force."
"But I'm unconsenting." Tachyon replied, relaxing. "And you do realize what kind of image you'll get when you force your way on someone who is unconsenting." He smiled.
Kuroko sighed. She would have to resort to force at this rate. She reached behind her skirt toward the black strap that stored the metal spikes.
Seeing her suddenly reaching toward her thighs made him a bit nervous. He hoped that his joke was treated as such, and he seriously hoped that she was not about to take her skirt off in front of him.
In contrary to his expectations she simply disappeared into thin air. The next thing he knew, short metal spikes outlining his body pinned him down. They punctured through his clothing into the ground. Stunned, he found her standing next to him. It was as if she had not moved an inch at all.
"You will now come with me to—" A metallic whirring noise behind them interrupted her. She turned around to see Tachyon, impossibly, standing behind her.
"Now look at what you've done," Tachyon said while examining his jacket. "You poked holes in my clothes! And they were custom tailored!" Tachyon grinned. "Shame."
"Wha-, but..." Kuroko turned back to check if he was still pinned down to the ground, which, amazingly, he still was.
"You know, this shirt alone cost 100,000 won," said the teen on the ground. "Oops, gotta jump!" And in the next moment, he disappeared with the same metallic whirr she heard earlier. Particles glowing in neon blue remained behind, floating briefly before vanishing as well.
Kuroko quickly turned around. This was no time to be distracted—she reached for her metal spikes once more—she needed to act quickly—
In the next moment, he tackled his shoulder into her stomach, squeezing air out from her lungs. She collapsed on the ground, attempting to breathe in air. He was right next to her, his back hunched.
"By the way," He made an offhand comment as he straightened up. "I am not a Copy-Cat, Illusionist, or even a Teleporter." He smiled. "Try to work that one out."
And he was gone.