"Da-da-da-da-da~"
Inside St. Freya Academy, a girl in a nun's outfit was skipping along happily, humming a strange tune in delight.
Her white braid flew through the air, and the hem of her nun's outfit lifted, faintly revealing the safety shorts underneath.
The girl's name was Theresa Apocalypse, former Schicksal S-rank Valkyrie, granddaughter of Overseer Otto of Schicksal, and current head of House Apocalypse.
But although she was the head of one of Schicksal's three great families, there were only a few members left in the family, and she didn't really have other family members to command.
But none of that was important, because right now she was concentrating on something very important.
She moved through the academy in high spirits. There weren't many students around right now, because it was class time.
If she spotted any student cutting class, she'd put on her principal's face and scold the little brats for skipping.
But as she ran, she suddenly realized she'd gotten taller. Her line of sight had risen.
A teacher with fiery hair had grabbed the back of Theresa's habit and hoisted her up like a small animal.
This was Murata Himeko, A-rank Valkyrie, teacher at St. Freya Academy, and Theresa's close friend.
Theresa's legs dangled off the ground, her small calves swinging in the air. Her hands waved in protest.
"Principal~ where do you think you're going?"
A darkly threatening voice came right by Theresa's ear, and the previously cheerful principal gave a startled shiver.
"H-Himeko! I was just going to go — blast some fish — no, wait, I mean — slack off a little — "
Himeko's eyes narrowed.
"Good grief. I thought you were just slacking off, but you were actually going to blast fish? No wonder the fish in the pond keep disappearing."
Theresa's voice shrank to nothing. Himeko set her down.
"Principal. I came to find you because HQ sent a message. You need to handle it."
Theresa blinked. Her first thought had nothing to do with responsibility.
"Is it the budget? Did the budget get approved?" Her eyes lit up immediately. Theresa had always been very good at milking Schicksal HQ for extra funds. If it was about the budget, she could go cry to Grandpa Otto for more money. She was experienced at that.
"The budget was approved last week." Himeko pressed her right hand to her forehead, visibly pained. "Did you even read the report?"
Theresa let out a guilty laugh. "Ahaha… I was going to get to it…"
Himeko bonked her on the head.
"The Overseer has assigned a task to St. Freya."
Theresa's expression shifted immediately, her playfulness dropping away. "What kind of mess is Grandpa stirring up this time?"
Her distrust was reflexive. In Theresa's experience, anything coming from Otto that wasn't budget money usually meant trouble.
But the task itself sounded straightforward. Schicksal HQ was requesting that St. Freya recommend some outstanding Valkyries to participate in testing new equipment. If the testing went well, the recommending unit would get priority access to the finished gear.
The only condition: candidates had to be A-rank Valkyries or above.
Theresa and Himeko returned to the principal's office and reviewed the full report together.
Theresa's brow furrowed the moment she saw the word "experiment."
She didn't like that word. Experiments meant risk. Experiments meant Valkyries being used as test subjects, and Valkyries had been hurt by experiments before.
The person sitting across from her was proof of that.
Himeko had undergone the artificial stigmata experiments. The damage they had done to her body was real and lasting. But that had been Himeko's own choice — she had wanted the power, yes, but more than that, she had wanted to find out the truth behind her father's death.
Ryusuke Murata had died under unclear circumstances. From the scattered traces Himeko had been able to piece together over the years, her father had once worked for Schicksal. Beyond that, nothing. How he died, and why — she still didn't know.
And the stigmata experiments weren't the only damage. Four years ago, Himeko's squad had been wiped out. Only Himeko survived. That was why she was at St. Freya now, teaching instead of fighting on the front lines.
Theresa looked at the report and then back at Himeko.
"Do we actually have to recommend anyone?"
"This kind of small request from HQ — it's better not to refuse too often," Himeko said. "If we keep turning them down, it creates friction. And we need HQ's goodwill more than they need ours."
Theresa sighed. "Then who should we send?"
She didn't need to ask. The look on Himeko's face already told her.
"You want to go yourself."
Himeko didn't deny it. "The researchers working on this project might know something. If my father worked for Schicksal's research division, people in that lab may have known him — or know how he died. It's a long shot, but it's the closest thing to a lead I've had in years."
Theresa didn't answer right away. Himeko going meant Himeko walking into exactly the kind of environment that had already hurt her once. And Himeko wasn't someone who would play it safe if she caught even a hint of her father's trail.
But the resolve on Himeko's face was clear. Theresa had known her long enough to recognize when arguing would be pointless.
"Fine." Theresa leaned back in her chair. "But you're not going alone. I'll have you lead a group — we'll recommend a few strong graduates alongside you. People you know, people you can rely on."
But St. Freya wasn't exactly overflowing with A-rank Valkyries to spare. Most of the current students hadn't reached that level yet, and the graduates who had were scattered across various postings.
Theresa thought for a moment. She needed someone strong. Someone outstanding. Someone who could hold their own in a high-stakes testing environment and watch Himeko's back at the same time.
Her best student came to mind. Strong, talented, possibly future S-rank material. And the one graduate who had never lost touch — every holiday without fail, Wendy would send a message wishing Theresa a happy holiday and telling her about how things were going lately.
She pulled up her terminal and placed the call.
The screen lit up, and a bright voice answered almost immediately.
"Teacher Theresa! It's been so long! How are you? Is everything okay at the academy?"
Wendy. Her enthusiasm was genuine and immediate — the same warmth as her holiday messages, but live and unfiltered.
"Wendy. I need your help with something."
Theresa explained the task briefly. Wendy agreed without hesitation, her voice still bright.
After the call ended, Theresa sat quietly for a moment. She looked at the darkened terminal screen and thought that when Wendy came back safely, she should probably do a better job of keeping in touch with her graduates.