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Your name is Keiichi Hirayama and today is turning out to be a pretty bad day.

Now, you aren’t a stranger to bad days. You’re a year shy of adulthood; of course they’ve popped up here and there. You’ve gone through the standard process—whining, moaning, complaining and eventually learning how to swallow said complaints upon realizing the the whims of fate are immutable to humans and you are no exception. As your father and numerous pretentious Internet commenters have told you, life is never a constant stream of happiness. Suffering will always be present. The trick is to look for the silver lining, endure the torment while it lasts and not let the built-up negativity degrade you into a pessimist.

You’ve achieved the first two. As for the last one…well, you are prone to grumbling. You groan and shake your head and make a snarky comment or two whenever something stupid happens. You can’t help it. It’s a coping tactic, a method of cathartic relief. You eventually go off and resolve those stupid somethings anyway, so it must count for something, right?. At the very least, you know how to accept your burdens, take life one day at a time and feel thankful for it all, for there are a great many children your age in far worse situations.

(You wonder how it feels to not deal with the torture sessions Akasha-Alea refers to as training, toxic waste pillage putting you in agony for two solid months, the existence of Florence Rutherford and more.)

Nonetheless, you can’t help but think that the number of bad days has increased ever since you arrived in Shibuya. Case in the point: the time you and Airi were forced by the government to dive into an unauthorized domain and fight a gigantic fire-spewing chicken with the grudge of thousands of its slaughtered kin behind it. It singed your hair, bathed your clothes in the rancid stench of burnt animal fat, made you late for class and would never happen in the countryside, you’re sure of it.

Thankfully, you are not due to fight any oversized poultry today. Instead, you, your sister and a bunch of other students are locked shut middle of True Hearts’ gymnasium and are staring down a gigantic skeleton monster.

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Once again, you wish you were kidding. Your eyes, penetrating the gloom, tell you otherwise. Your brain uncharismatically goes 'God fucking dammit'.
The giant skeleton monster undoubtedly exists. It’s big and tall as a monster truck and boasts all the strength associated with one. It is perched on all fours like a rabid wolf, supposed by bones solid as steel beams. Teeth chatter like hammers to anvils. Pinpricks of blood red flash in hollow eye sockets. It shrieks bloody murder with its presence alone.

The monster slams its left hand forward, shaking the ground. causing half the students behind you to froth at the mouth at once. One even faints. They are all terrified out of their minds. You can’t blame them. None of them have any combat experience. Their cries are audible amidst the inky blackness.

“We’re going to die!”

“Oh god, why didn’t I stay at home!”

“Hirayama siblings, do something!”

“I never got the chance to kiss a girl…”

You and Airi exchange quick glances. How did the two of you end up in this situation again? Oh yes, you remember now. After coming to school and finding it vandalized from top to bottom, Student Council President Makoto begged you two to help clean up. Being the nice girl she is, Airi agreed and you were dragged along for a ride. You along with the other students were assigned to the gym. The clean-up happened for a while, then all the doors slammed shut, the lights went out and ink monsters started coming out of the walls.

As the only people with actual combat experience, you and Airi fought off the waves of monsters. You shot through at least several dozen of the bastards. Apparently this wasn’t enough to whatever was behind the attack, because the remaining ink gathered in the center of the room, forming the monster before you.

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You and Airi find yourselves obligated to fight this thing. Not for blackmail, but for the safety of others. No matter what your opinion was of the other students (low to non-existent), you don’t want to see them die.

You quickly glance around the arena. Escape is impossible. The place pitch black and the only source of light comes from the meagre spells provided by a few of the braver students. You grip your rifle and slickness on the cold metal. Exhaustion burns your joints and sweat dampens your back. Airi is no better. Her limbs shake, her eyelids threaten to slam shut and her breathing is uneven and rapid. Both your mana reserves are starting to take their toll.

You miss Michiko. And Nina. And even Florence. You wish Florence was here. Damn it, could Airi even use her Ultimate Skill? Could you use yours? Today is a bad day, indeed.

“Oi! This ain’t no time to be spacing around! Hurry up and do something already, Keiichi!”

Your revolver, named Avery, that is also a spirit and very much alive (you don’t know the reasons but it’s probably complicated) has a point. You need to do something or you’ll end up as a bloody red stain on the plastic floor.

Now that the situation has been assessed, what will you do?

>Destroy the wall behind you and escape.
>Trick the monster into destroying the wall for you.
>Attack the monster as normal.
>Screw it, Ultimate Skill time.
>Custom option.

>>1651091
>>Destroy the wall behind you and escape.
Good to see you back Thorn

>>1651091
>Trick the monster into destroying the wall for you
glad you're back TT

>>1651091
>Trick the monster into destroying the wall for you.
Ha ha! Time for grumbling.

>>1651091
>>Trick the monster into destroying the wall for you.

First of all, it's good to be back. Thank you to everyone who told me not to quit; your advice was very helpful. I'm more or less refreshed right now, so it's time to get back into writing.

Also I rewrote the ending of Nina's Valentine special to make her less of an asshole: https://pastebin.com/qvW3neGE
Will Akasha-Alea's special be rewritten? Eh...I don't know.

The Character Details sheet has been updated. The major changes are the addition of WILLPOWER (mental strength) and proficiency ranks added to Talents, Techniques and Ultimate Skills. This is probably as detailed as the sheet will ever become.

You should roll for Keiichi's WILLPOWER. 1d30, best out of three please.

Also writing now...

Rolled 3 (1d30)

>>1651158

Rolled 21 (1d30)

>>1651158

>>1651159
Off to a good start.

Rolled 13 (1d30)

>>1651158

>>1651161
Okay, the base WILLPOWER is 10 and accounting for a roll of 21/30 makes it so that he has a WILLPOWER of 15. That's actually decent. Must be from all of Akasha-Alea's lectures.

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The monster is big. The monster looks strong. It then shows how strong it is by lifting a hand (foot?) and swinging it your way. Airi leaps out of the way. She lands next to a wall slathered in ink and winces. You roll and duck past the blow. In doing so, you have the perfect view of a bony hand ploughing into a basketball stand, crumpling it like aluminium foil. The hand continues its path and slams into the wall. The wall cracks. Part of it caves in.

Shit.

Damn it, neither you or Airi have the strength to fight this thing! If only there was an escape route, instead of being boxed inside this…

Wait…

Escape route…

It’s a wild idea, but you’re desperate, as much as you hate to admit it.

Maybe you could trick the monster into destroying the wall behind you? Since it’s was most likely created by the same guy who created the seals, it might be able to break them and smash through. Even if not, its raw strength should be enough. Once you're outside, it's the city's problem.

But for that to work, you need someone to act as the bait. That person needs to be capable of drawing the skeleton monster’s attention while the rest find shelter. But who is that?

>Keiichi Hirayama.
>Airi Hirayama.
>The rest of the students.
>Custom option.

>>1651239
>>Keiichi Hirayama.

>>1651239
>Keiichi Hirayama.

>>1651239
>Keiichi hirayama
Twilight good to see you man

>>1651239
>>Keiichi Hirayama.

>>1651075
IT'S BACK!!!
Hallelujah!

>>1651239
>>Keiichi Hirayama
One thing you can reliably say about K1 is that he is a (salty) man of action.

>>1651239
>Keiichi Hirayama.
I should be going to bed soon, but I'll try to stay awake as long as I can. Welcome back Thorn.

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>>Keiichi: Volunteer.

You find yourself putting yourself in danger for the sake of others. Again. At least you are somewhat prepared this time.

“Really, Keiichi? Do you find a perverse pleasure in sacrificing yourself? It is not a sin to be selfish once in a while.” An imaginary Florence says. Great, now she’s stuck in your head. The ink fumes are making you go loony, or you’re been spending too much time around that infuriating woman. Probably the latter.

“Airi! Get the other guys over there! I’m gonna make this thing smash down the wall for us!” You shout.

“What?” Your sister cries. “Onii-chan, are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else here who can do this!” You yell back. Airi has a weaker constitution, Michiko isn’t here with her offensively pink fashion sense and the students have as much combat ability as a stack of wet towels. It’s not like you enjoying doing this kind of stuff in the first place! “Just hurry up!”

Airi nods and rushes over to the other students. They are too tired or frightened to argue and listen to her commands. You see them disappear into the darkness, out of range of the skeleton monster.

You take out your Howa and reload it. The magazine slips in with a satisfying click. You lift the firearm upwards and stare down the sights. The skeleton monster stares back, its mouth locked into a toothy, malicious grin. It stamps the floor again. You refuse to let your stance waver.

You’re certain now. This thing is a familiar. It is mindless, advancing forward without any external commands. Presumably, the master is far away, rubbing their hands in glee at the outcome of their trap. This monster will rampage around the gym until everyone is beaten or dead. In that regard, communication is useless.

However, you remember Akasha-Alea teaching you about her own familiars. She mentioned that a common programming of familiars is a self-preservation instinct. Upon taking enough damage, the frequency of its attacks will sharply increase, in order to destroy whatever is harming it. The behavior is not dissimilar to the desperation tactics of a human at the brink. In the context of your mentor’s familiars, they fire as much of their ammunition as they can, then try to assault with knives, fists or anything hard or sharp they can find.

You know nothing about familiar programming, but if it is as common as your mentor said, then this monster should possess it. You want it to rampage towards you, dive out of the way and watch as it bashes down the wall for you. Then you need to distract it some more, retreat into the darkness, while Airi and the rest make their escape.

First things first. You have to grab its attention. You prepare to squeeze the trigger.

“Hey, what happens if this fails?” Avery pipes up.


'Then we'll probably be dead.' is what you think.

“Fuck it, I’ll shoot at it until it dies,” is what you actually tell her.

>Roll 1d30
>Best out of three.

Rolled 22 (1d30)

>>1651369
Rollan

Rolled 5 (1d30)

>>1651369

>>1651371
Nice

Rolled 10 (1d30)

>>1651369

>>1651369
>'Then we'll probably be dead.' is what you think.
>“Fuck it, I’ll shoot at it until it dies,” is what you actually tell her.
Keiichi just can't help being the action movie badass.

You indecisive cunt, make up your goddamn mind.
Im not sticking around for you to quit again a month later.
Fuck you

>>1651415
>not seeing the entire process play out over his Twitter
takes like no effort to check retard

>>1651415
Calm your tits.

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You squeeze the trigger of your rifle and bullets fly out of the barrel. The muzzle flash sends flickers of bright yellow light dancing around the darkness. Several students cower at the roar of your firearm. You can’t blame them—it’s one thing to watch you fire a gun in the safety of the arena stands and it’s quite another to see you do so up close.

The bullets strike the monster around the skull and the ribs. They plough straight through the ink and disappear. The monster roars and charges forward. It is not a scream of rage, but rather a premade command to make its foes cower in fear.

The monster lets a fist fly loose. You dodge and see it crash into the front door, denting it. Good, that means your hypothesis was correct. Now all you need to do is to repeatedly bait it until the wall is destroyed. Familiars are basically robots. With enough intelligence, their actions can be predicted.

>>Keiichi: Bait the skeleton monster until the wall is destroyed.

The first part is goes successfully but the second is not. Halfway through your brilliant plan, the skeleton monster unhinges its jaw, looks to the ceiling and shrieks. Take an entire clowder of cats scratching their boards on a single blackboard, max out the volume on the speakers and nestle it in the lungs of a siren. Your weapons clatters on the ground and you curl over, hands clutching at your ears.

Your vision swims. Avery’s presence ebbs and flows like the tide. Faintly, you can hear her screaming. This attack…this is mental pollution! It's turning your own senses against you! Shit, you have to regain your senses, or you’ll be left a sitting duck!

>Roll 1d30 for WILLPOWER.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 3 (1d30)

>>1651475

Rolled 12 (1d30)

>>1651475

Rolled 26 (1d30)

>>1651475

>>1651493
At least one of us can roll. Good job, anon.

>>1651498
np

>>1651493
cluuuutch

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“Get up! Get up! Oi Keiichi, get the hell up!”

The shrieking is bloody awful. Amidst all the torture your poor pain is going through, a single thought, spiteful and clear, bubbles its way to the surface. You do not want to die because someone screamed very loudly at you. Of course, the truth is a lot more complicated than that, but it’s all your ancestors will see when they laugh at you in haven.

What did your mentor tell you when confronted with mental assault? That’s right. You need to calm yourself. Take a few deep breaths. Remember that you’re still alive. Analyze your senses. Vision, touch, taste and smell are all there. Your hearing is a little shot, but you’ve spend your free time firing guns without much ear protection, so it should be fine. Take note of the things that comfort you. Like the rifle you just dropped earlier. God you hope any of the internal components aren’t damaged—

“Goddamnit Keiichi, I swear to god, if you don’t talk back to me I’m gonna—”

Your mind is now stable, but it seems like you’ve traded one annoying screech for another.

“Okay, okay, shut the hell up Avery!”

“Finally!” Your revolver sighs. “Now listen to me for a sec!”

"I just told you to shut up!"

"No, this is important, you stupid brat!" You decide not to point out the obvious.

“Does it involve breaking the wall down behind us by any chance?” You shout. Seeing as its previous tactic didn’t work, the monster falls back on the old habit of trying to break all your bones with a single swing, and with you dodging and rolling out of the way.

“You want to make this guy super desperate, right? I was thinking, you need more firepower to do that.”

“What, are my bullets not enough?” The monster swings both its hands down like a gigantic guillotine. You activate Bullet Time, your vision going from mostly pitch black to pitch black with a hint of grey. You feel your body diving to the side, trudging through an invisible mud. You release the technique and shoot a couple of Anti-Mana Bullets. They smash through the inky bones and vanish. The impact was bigger due to the void element, but it's still insufficient...

“Well, I was thinking back to the techniques my old master used to use…”

“Less backstory, more answers!”

“Okay, okay, I think I can help you do one of them?”

“What?”

“Y’know, using my own mana! I’m a gun, but I’m also a spirit. That means I can control the stuff in my own body, including the cartridges!”

Huh, that sounds similar to your Anti-Mana Bullets.

“There was this one trick the old man used like a million times. He used it so damn often it’s been engraved into my memory. I think I could do it myself!”

“Have you ever tried this?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Fucking for real?”

“I never had the chance, damnit! Maybe if you’d spent less time in those damn classes and more time actually doing shit I could’ve shown you!”

“Do you even know how to use magic?”

“Hey, I knew how to use my legs and arms when I got them! Besides, I’m a spirit, you dumbass! Magic is part of who I am!”

“So what is that trick anyway?”

Avery explains it to you. The trick is…

>BURNING BULLETS: Ignites bullets upon contact with their target, creating flames that burn rapidly. Similar to the effects of incendiary ammunition.
>EXPANDING BULLETS: Makes the bullet expand upon contact with the target, decreasing penetration and causing more disruption. Similar to the effects of hollow-point ammunition. Higher mana cost.
>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.
>SELF-REINFORCEMENT: Temporarily reinforces the components of the revolver with magic, allowing for more reckless use.
>…nothing at all because you’re not listening to her!

>>1651641
>>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.

>>1651641
>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.

>>1651641
>>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.

I'm so happy this is back

>>1651641
>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.
Dragging everything down to our level in twenty easy steps.

>>1651641
>>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.

>>1651641
>>MANA-DEVOURING BULLETS: Bullets drain mana upon contact. Amount drained is dependent on the force behind the bullet. No mana is transferred back to the caster.

lol I guess people know what they want

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“That’s actually pretty useful…” You admit.

“See? Next time, have a little more faith in me!”

You snatch your rifle off the ground and shove it back into your invisible armory. You rip out Avery from inside your clothes and pop open the chamber. .44 plonks into the holes and you seal the chamber shut.

“For the last time, are you sure you can do this?”

“Oi, what did I just tell you?”

“Okay, aiming now. Hurry up and do it.”

“Yeah, you do that. Just watch me, damn it!”

In the confines of her mind, Avery takes a deep breath and settles into a state of relaxation. She digs into her mind, searching for the memories of her former owner. He was strong and firm. Grizzled, no-nonsense with a love of alcohol and fine movies, but otherwise a somewhat lonely man. Without a close family, he threw himself into battle after battle, with the promise of medical treatment and a cheque at the end of the road.

Mana Devouring Bullets…that was the name of the technique he favoured. Along with Anti-Mana Bullets, it was developed as a method of taking down enemy magi. Where Anti-Mana Bullets sought to bypass, Mana Devouring Bullets sought to destroy.

Even after a year in isolation, Avery remembers the taste of the magic. That poisonous, burning sensation, coiling up her insides, almost causing her to choke. It drove spokes into her mind, disrupted her emotions, tensed up her body like spring coils. Had she a mouth, she would have screamed.

It was painful, yes. Magic that counters other magic is unscrupulous in nature. But she would never begrudge her former master, and not just because the pull of the trigger felt so exhilarating. The technique was powerful. The bodies of spirits would crumble. Magi would shout and scream as their energy source was drained. She is a tool of war, and nothing makes her happier than seeing her enemies defeated.

Mana pours out of Avery’s soul. It flows into the structure of her revolver form, flooding it with heat. You notice this. You hear her choke and splutter. Then, with a voice of hardened, knowing determination, she shouts.

“Go!”

You squeeze the trigger and fire off six straight shots. They soar towards the skeleton monster like missiles. All of them land on target. They tear holes in its bones, gashes that are like canyons seen from high above.

The monsters howls and charges forward. Once again, you dive to the side. It crashes straight into the wall. Brick and plaster fall away. And behind them is sunlight.

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“See?” Avery gasps. Her breathing is ragged. “Told you I could do it.”

The other students are attracted to sunlight likes moths to a flame. They approach towards the door. Airi guides them, flinging exploding knives at the rubble to widen the gap. You switch out to your rifle and blast away, moving towards the back of the gym as you do so. The mission was a success. The skeleton in full desperation mode, swinging, stomping and biting in an attempt to destroy you—its biggest threat. The ink is growing thinner, its structure weakening from the loss of mana. Some of its wounds aren’t sealing up at all.

You shoot at the legs, weakening its stomps. You blast at the eyes, blinding it. The ribcage is spared no mercy and four shots causes the entire monster to flinch and pause. You reload and prepare to do it all over again.

One by one, Airi evacuates the students. They hustle out of the makeshift entrance, almost tripping over themselves in their rush. Soon, it is just you, Avery and the skeleton monster. You are now at the very back.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask.

“Just peachy…” Avery huffs. “I’m not tired! I could go for another six shots!”

>Defeat the monster now. You’ve already come this far.
>No, escaping is still the top priority.
>Custom option.

>>1651840
>>Defeat the monster now. You’ve already come this far.

>>1651840
>Defeat the monster now. You’ve already come this far.
Cool guys don't leave their work unfinished.

>>1651840
>>Defeat the monster now. You’ve already come this far.
But Give Avery a rest switch to shotgun and finish destabilizing it.

>>1651840
>Defeat the monster now. You’ve already come this far.

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>>Keiichi: Defeat the monster.

Okay, you said you had your doubts about defeating the monster at first, but now that everyone has been evacuated and Avery managed to heavily damage it with that trick of hers…maybe you have a shot?

Well, it’s still a little dubious. You’re tired, Avery is tired and the monster’s strikes are threatening as usual. But you think you might’ve found a weak point. All familiars have a core, which controls their programming and provides them with mana to act. If the core is destroyed, the familiar will instantly case to work. Akasha-Alea’s familiars have their core where a normal heart would be. As for this oversized skeleton, you’ve noticed a faint blue light radiating from the center of the spine.

Could that be the core?

Only one way to find out. You raise your gun and prepare to fire. If this fails, you’ll have to run.

Actually, maybe you should equip your shotgun instead. Despite what she said, Avery is pretty damn tired right now.

>Roll 1d30 for precision.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 6 (1d30)

>>1651925

Rolled 10 (1d30)

>>1651925

Rolled 5 (1d30)

>>1651925

>>1651928
>>1651929
>>1651950
fuck we're tired

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You fire your shotgun and half your shots miss. You have failed to destroy the core.

Damn it.

In hindsight, you should have known something was up when your fingers felt like they were being dipped in ice.

>>Keiichi: Run.

You stumble out the gymnasium and come into the view of a rather bedraggled teacher. Judging from the bushy, uncombed hair and the fact all his buttons are done up the wrong way despite True Hearts’ script presentation policy, he must be someone who was meant to take a day off but got dragged back to deal with all the graffiti stuff. His first instinct is to march over and see what all the fuss is about, glowering all the while. Then he stops in his tracks and stares.

He stares open mouthed at your ink-covered body, your ink-covered sister crouching near by, the exhausted students collapsed on the grass outside the gym, the muck trailing from the doors of the gym and the stench of decaying chemicals and mana in the vicinity.

“What on earth happened here?” He barks, more out of bewilderment than anger.

Is there something you would like to say to this good man?

>“I hate this school so much right now.”
>“I think we should all run.”
>“Oh, we’re all perfectly fine.”
>“You owe us big time now…”
>Ignore him completely.
>Custom option.

>>1652001
>>Custom option.
>thumb behind you
>"That happened. Don't go in, though, it's still up."

>>1652001
>“Oh, we’re all perfectly fine.”
>thumb behind you
>"That happened. Don't go in, though, it's still up."

>>1652001
The graffiti came alive and almost killed the cleaners aka students. If not for sis and I there'd be a lot of burials soon.

>“I hate this school so much right now

>>1652001
Seconding:
>>1652013

>>1652001
>"Everything is terrible."
>"Don't go in there, we're not quite done cleaning yet."

>>1652001
Supporting >>1652013

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You decide that, yes, you have a few words to say to this good man. You look straight ahead, fix him with a glare that could burn down a forest and grind out your words with seething black enmity from the deepest reaches of your mind.

“I.” You state with full confidence. “Hate this school so much right now.”

“Excuse me?” The teacher blusters, his face turning red as a tomato.

“There is a very good reason for why I am saying this.” You return.

“I certainly hope there is!” The teacher shouts, folding his meaty arms and bristling his broom-esque mustache, “Perhaps you’d like to explain it in detention, young man!”

Your stomach is growling and your clothes are slick with ink. You don’t care. As far as you’re concerned, the sky could fall this very moment and you wouldn’t even blink. As if to prove your point the skeleton monster bursts out of the gymnasium, roars and you refrain from turning around

You thumb behind you. “That happened.”

“Wh-what in God’s name is that?” The teacher screams, all anger vanishing. It would be comical if you weren't so damn exhausted.

“Don’t go in there, you’ll probably die. Also, now would be a really nice time to call the police.”

Taking a break for 30 mins...

>>1652144
Does screaming mean detention or no detention?

>>1652159
If the skeleton eats him it means no detention

>>1652185
If the skeleton eats him, we'll have a lot more problems than detention.

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This is what happens later. The police come, see the gigantic skeleton monster about to demolish the academy and call in for a special force of assault magi. The magi lob fireballs and lighting bolts—the standard magecraft military teachings—at the skeleton until it’s dead. They then investigate the area. No dice. There is nothing to indicate the perpetrator behind the ambush.

In the background, the medics tend to the wounded. They wrap your cuts in bandages and give you emergency carbohydrates to suck on. Bit by bit, your mana returns. As for your growling stomach, the solution is simple.

“It’s cafeteria food.” You state, staring at your tray as if it just offended you.

“I don’t think they had anything else on hand.” Airi says, a bit apologetically.

Sighing, you pick up your chopsticks and tuck into your curry don. Greasy.

You don’t know what happens to the other students, but they’re probably safe. Or something. Whatever, you’re too busy slipping out of these filthy work clothes and getting back into your uniform. Except that it does nothing to change the fact that you and Airi are exhausted, covered in sweat and stink like the bowels of an abandoned chemical plant. The stench is so potent that when you attempt to climb on board the bus, the driver takes a single whiff and locks the doors shut, thus dooming you to a fate of tromping around the streets of Shibuya and trying not to look at the disgusted faces of passersby. Fuck public transport, fuck whoever summoned those damned ink monsters and fuck life in general.

“Onii-chan, are you okay?”

“What?”

“You were swearing a lot.”

“I…” You take a deep breath. Were you really saying all that shit out loud? How embarrassing. “Sorry. I mean, at least we didn’t get shot at.”

Airi nods and smiles. You can get angry a lot of things, but your sister is rarely one of them.

The moment you get back to your apartment, you immediately make a lunge for the bathroom. Airi has the same idea. It’s a bump and a crash. The two of you end up colliding in the narrow doorway, your face squashed against the side of the wall. You look at your sister. Tired eyes gaze back. But within them is a spark of determination. You nod, slightly. You know what must be done.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“…”

“…”

“Yes!” You shout triumphantly, raising your ink-soaked arms in triumph, “I won!”

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Airi shakes her head and leaves to undress herself in her bedroom. Avery pops into human form, stares at the chaos, shrugs her shoulders and goes to open the fridge doors. According to her, her level of cleanliness is proportionate to the cleanliness of her firearm form. Since you attend to your firearms on a meticulous (and possibly insane) level, she is rarely ever dirty. She didn’t covered in ink unlike you and your sister, so there’s nary a blemish on her clothes.

Never has hot water felt so blissful. You take your sweet time, your mind drifting to a land of warm comforts. The fresh clothes—shirt, pants, tracksuit—are the icing to cover a delicious cake. You step outside, fully refreshed and call your sister in.

Then you go to your room and collapse on your head. Unconscious claims you within seconds.

>>Time: Pass.

When you wake up, the sky is orange. Three hours have passed. Lying in your bed, you contemplate your priorities. Rest, train or play? Could the clusterfuck from earlier today count as training? Not according to your mentor, most likely. This is a woman who saw you get hounded by terrorists and still demanded you partake in a shooting exercise later that day. You were fully rested by that point, but still.

You put on your clothes and get off the bed. That’s when Avery comes bounding up to you her cherry red ponytail swinging left to right like a dangling rope.

“Keiichi!” She yells, pointing down the hallway, her footwork almost like dancing from toe to toe, “There’s a strange woman in the kitchen!”

The first thing you think is, ‘shit’. The second thing you think is ‘oh, that’s what’s happening’, because you detect the mana signature and it is a familiar one. You are glad Michiko isn’t around. She gets pissed whenever other girls (aside from Airi) come over to your place. You don’t know why the hell that happens; it just does.

The newcomer is woman, a good foot and a half taller than you. Her features are Ayran—honey blonde locks, sharp cheekbones, smooth cheeks and pale skin. She stands to attention in front of the kitchen table, feet locked together, back straight as a flag post, an expression of calm neutrality written like print across her face. She turns to you as you come in. She does not look at you. Those eyes are hers aren’t capable of truly looking at anything. That is how your mentor designed her to be.

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“Keiichi Hirayama, mentee of Akasha-Alea.” The woman states, in a voice too steady and lacking in inflection to be natural. Avery looks mildly disturbed.

“I’m here.” You reply.

“This is a message from Akasha-Alea: ‘The conference is taking longer than I thought.’” The woman continues. “‘I will be delayed for another 24 hours. Keep up your training and daily routine in my absence.’”

“Acknowledged.” You answer.

Work done, the woman bows once. Her long blonde hair cascades downwards like a waterfall. She straightens herself, then places gloved hands in front of her coat-covered chest. Military-style, reminiscent of the patterns on the American military. A faint white light surrounds her form. It intensifies briefly and the woman disappears. The mana signature vanishes.

“What the heck was that?” Avery exclaims, pointing to the empty space. “That wasn’t a robot, right?”

“No, it’s one of Akasha-Alea’s familiars.” You answer. “Did I ever tell you about them? They are really life-like.”

“That was super creepy! Eyes like that shouldn’t go on human bodies!” Avery says. “Man, they make the giant skeletons seem friendly…”

Your shrug your shoulders. “I never figured out why Akasha-Alea liked those sort of familiars…oh well.” You head over to the fridge and reach for a can of juice. Avery calls her approval and demands one too. Your roll your eyes and toss her one.

The two of you sit at the dining table, sipping your drinks. Then Avery asks,

“Hey, what kind of person is Akasha-Alea, anyway?”

“Why ask?” You reply.

“Because she’s the head spirit of firearms, right?” Avery explains. “I’m gonna have to meet her one day. Might as well get an impression of her now…”

It’s a good question. How will you respond?

>“I owe her practically everything.”
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>“She’s alright.”
>“I think she hates fun.”
>“I wish she would call me by my real name.”
>“She’s my teacher. That’s all.”
>"It's a bit difficult to say."
>Custom option.

>>1652466
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
But
>“I owe her practically everything.”

>>1652466
>“I think she hates fun.”
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>“She’s alright.”
t s u n d e r e

>>1652466
>>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>>“I owe her practically everything.”

>>1652466
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>“I think she hates fun.”
>“I owe her practically everything.”

>>1652466
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>“I think she hates fun.”
but
>“I owe her practically everything.”

>>1652466
>“She’s a real pain in the ass.”
>“I think she hates fun.”
but
>“I owe her practically everything.”

>>1652466
>She's alright.
>I think she hates fun.
>She might like girls.

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Akasha-Alea, spirit of firearms, the maiden in the funeral dress. She met you when you were fourteen and offered a mentorship. You think back to your memories of her--good, bad, training, relaxation, teaching and more--and shrug your shoulders. For three whole years you have had her voice buzzing around the base of your skull. It’s hard to imagine life without her.

“She’s a real pain in the ass.” You grumble.

“Yeah, I kinda got that impression when you talked about her…” Avery mutters.

“No, I don’t think you understand. I think she hates fun.” You state, leaning forward. “Every time I want to relax, her voice sounds in my head and she orders me to get off my ass and start training.”

“She’s in your head? What does that mean?”

“Like, she talks to me constantly when I’m awake. Giving me advice when I’m shooting, making stupid comments when I’m in class studying, always nagging to pursue my training…there’s a point where a man wants her to stay quiet for a few minutes!” You complain. You slam your fist on the counter. “Is it really a crime to kick back and watch that DVD your friend gave you?”

“Do most spirit mentors do that kind of thing?”

“No, Akasha-Alea is special. Which is weird.” You take another sip. “And even when we’re training she still finds ways to act like an asshole!”

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Location: A certain training field in a certain spirit’s domain. Time: probably around noon, it’s a bit hard to tell with all the inconsistent weather patterns.

A young boy stares at the equipment in front of him.

“Um, what is this?”

“A good question, boy. It is your lunch.”

“It’s an MRE.”

“I can see that.”

“You’ve never given me this before.”

“As you humans put it, there is no time like the present.”

“What happened to the regular meals?”

“Cut due to budget concerns.”

“What budget concerns? Are you seriously saying that you’ve run out of money?”

“Boy.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Am I not your mentor? Do I not know what is best for you?”

“I’m just saying this is a little unexpected.”

“This is part of your training. You won’t always be able to eat freshly cooked food.”

“But you could’ve given me a warning…”

“There are only eighteen minutes and forty-seven seconds remaining in your break.”

“What?”

“Remember what your task is afterwards. I expect you to not drop that rifle as you carry it over your shoulders.”

“God damn it, Akasha-Alea!”

“Seventeen minutes and fifty-nine seconds remain.”

“Agh! Fine! I’ll eat this…hey, how do I cook it?”

>>1652606
Better hope that heater works son. And she didn't give you cream gravy or omelette.

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The memories assault you. They are bullets fired from a metaphorical light machine gun. Those countless hours of running with a full armory in whatever sick environment she could conjure up. All the times she whacked you with a stick as your stance slipped in the firing range. The exercises in which you ran around her strongholds as her familiars hunted you like sharks towards blood. Your homework assignments, torn to pieces and reconstructed to be more fitting with her craft. The burden is mighty, indeed. You almost feel like weeping. Almost.

“No offense, she sounds like a bit of a dick.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you here.”

“So, like, she’s watching you all the time?”

“Yeah.”

“Even in the shower?”

You pause for way too long. The effect is akin to a man falling out an airplane, and then suddenly realizing that he is without a parachute. “Avery, I’m going to really try and pretend you didn’t say that. Talk about something else, please.”

“Okay, okay. So, uh, what does she look like?”

Your first instinct is to ask why she doesn’t know. Then it makes sense.

“Akasha-Alea is, well, I guess around seven centuries old? She’s as tall as an early high-schooler, though. She’s got this silk-like black hair, slender fingers, violet eyes and sharp cheekbones. She wears a funeral dress all the time.”

“Is she mourning someone?”

“Nah. I think she explained it by saying it’s symbolic to how guns cause death, even though it’s the humans that make the choices. I think she just likes the way it looks.”

“Got any photos?”

“Akasha-Alea doesn’t like them. She’s afraid of leaks.”

“Sheesh, what a killjoy…”

“She did say it was for our own good. There are a lot of people who want to meet her, after all.”

“I bet she’s just camera shy. The old man said you shouldn't trust a guy who's afraid of the camera.” Avery grumbles. She chugs down the rest of her juice, finishing it off with a loud gasp. You take another sip of yours. “Hey, what about other firearm spirits. What are they like?”

You shake your head. “...I don’t think there are any other gun spirits.”

“Eh? Why the hell not?” Avery exclaims. “Keiichi, that don’t make a lick of sense! There are always a whole bunch of spirits for a particular thing.”

She's correct. Even so... “I guess Akasha-Alea is an exception? It’s not something we really talk about.”

“Why not?”

>“I’m scared to ask.”
>“It’s not my place to ask.”
>“It doesn’t matter to me.”
>“I don’t want her getting suspicious of me.”
>“I trust her.”
>Custom option.

>>1652667
>>“I trust her.”

>>1652667
>I trust her.

Oh god Akasha-Alea is gonna mindwipe Avery isn't she

>>1652667
>“I trust her.”

>>1652667
>I trust her
Prepare to say goodbye in 24 hours

>>1652667
>Frankly I've heard of one, and she ate him.
>I don't ask more because I don't want to know the answer to a question I'm probably going to be uncomfortable with and has up until your arrival fuck all to do with me.

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“Well…Akasha-Alea used to say that there were other gun spirits, but all of them challenged them for her throne, so she took them out.”

“What, as in all of them? One hundred percent? No way, that can’t be true! Not every gun spirit is a violent maniac.”

“Well, that’s what she said.”

“And you believed her?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I trust her.” And that is the simplest answer you can give. For all her faults, all the infuriating things she’s done, Akasha-Alea is a woman you wholeheartedly respect. She reached out to you when you were sinking towards the bottom and gave you a chance. She has never lied, never gone back on her promise to unlock the potential within you. It is not an exaggeration to say that almost everything you excel in has its roots in her mentorship.

She is a woman whom you cannot imagine life without. Aside from your family, she is probably the person you respect the most in the two realms.

“I owe her practically everything.” You state, looking Avery in the eye. “So if she doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t press her.”

“I see.” Avery says, quietly.

“I think she also mentioned that no other spirits spawned in her domain ever since magic came back to us humans.”

Avery snorts. She leans in her chair and crosses her arms. “Gah, I’m really not liking what I’m hearing. This Akasha-Alea spirit better not do anything funny to me when she gets back.”

“Eh, I think she’ll understand.” You answer. “She’s never forced me to do anything super unreasonable, like train when I’m burnt out of mana or whatever.”

“Gosh, I sure hope you’re right…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you if she goes postal.”

“Hey, I ain’t some damsel in distress! Why are ya smiling like that?”

You finish your drink and stand. Avery mumbles something under her breath and stares out the window. She then turns to you.

“What’re yer doing now?”

“Going to Akasha-Alea’s realm. Training.” You haven’t been there ever since you took the task and you know Akasha-Alea will get stroppy if you don’t enter there at least once. As you head for the door, Avery calls out to you.

“Hey, can I come?”

You blink. “Why?”

“Curious. Besides, you’re heading to the domain of firearms, right? I’m a revolver spirit, so I fit there. What do you say?”

"Well..."

"C'mon, I won't get in your way. I swear!"

You think.

>Yeah, it won’t hurt.
>Okay, but she has to stay in her revolver form.
>No, there could be consequences.
>Custom option.

>>1652849
>>Okay, but she has to stay in her revolver form.

>>1652849
>Yeah, it won’t hurt.
Surely nothing will go horribly wrong.

>>1652849
>No, there could be consequences
Should probably clear it with ol' AA, especially since she doesn't know about it and probably has some sort of detection shit.

>>1652849
>>Okay, but she has to stay in her revolver form.

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“Alright, you can come. You have to stay in your revolver form the entire time, though.”

“Sweet!”

“Hurry up and get over here, then.”

Travelling to the Spirit World does not come cheap. Dimensional crossing never is. It’s fine for a spirit as mighty as your mentor, but humans need a medium to help facilitate the process. That is why a day after you moved in here she dragged you to the closet room and ordered you to lie down and spread your arms and legs out like a lost starfish. She then mixed together spray paint, rust inhibitor, cleaning fluid, water and gunpowder and drew a big circle around your body. She then told you get up, watch and then got down on her knees and drew a five-pointed pentagram circle, ancient spirit text and various symbols symbolic to her faith—discpline, firearms, war, ash and more—proudly displayed on the edges. To seal the deal she took out a knife and let your shared blood flow into the center of the pentagram.

The whole process smelled. It made you feel a bit lightheaded. The entire room glowed with an ethereal purple light. But boy was it convenient for getting from your place to hers. The only trouble was stopping your friends from being curious whenever they came over.

“Don’t flare your magic or bite your tongue. You’ll regret it.”

“I don’t have a tongue right now!”

“Use it for the future, then.”

The magic circle glows. The light consumes your body. You feel your magic circuits lurching. The sensation is comparable to the sensation of your guts swaying back and forth spread throughout your entire body. The world around you swirls and collapses down a drain. The next thing you know, faint sunshine is assaulting your vision and cool outside air is brushing against your skin.

Without looking around, you know that you have arrived.

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>>Keiichi: Observe Akasha-Alea’s domain anyway.

The bailey lies deserted. A field of decaying green spreads around you, halting at iron-grey concrete walls and the polished feet of humanoid familiars. The air tastes fresh, but carries a hint of ash and that familiar black powder (always, always) and is settled beneath a dreary, grey overcast sky.

Figures stride on the battlements, gaze through the scopes of rifles and stand like statues in front of doors. Their blank eyes stare like camera lens, registering your existence but lacking any real acknowledgement. All clutch firearms in their pale feminine arms. Beyond them lies a mass of steel and concrete—your mentor’s fortress. One of many in the territory, this one is only distinguished by its size and a lone flag bearing her symbol.

It is a place you have grown intimate with, through no small amount of trying.

“Cool…” Avery whispers, filled with awe. “Your mentor gets to live in a place like this all the time?”

“She has other fortresses.”

“She’s that rich?”

“She did mention something about selling guns to warmongers once…”

Now that you’ve arrived, what will you do?

>Show Avery around.
>Get straight down to training.
>Ask for something to eat.
>Custom option.

>>1652963
>Get straight down to training.

>>1652963
>>Get straight down to training.

>>1652963
>>Get straight down to training.

>>1652963
>Show Avery around.

>>1652963
>Get straight down to training

>>1652963
>>Get straight down to training.

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>>Keiichi: Get straight down to training.

Yeah, there’s not enough time to mess around. You want to be back before Airi cooks dinner, after all.

The question is, what sort of training do you want to do?

>RUNNING: It’s literally running. Trains CONSTITUTION.
>HUNTING GAME: Defeat the hunters before they catch you! Trains AGILITY.
>SHOOTING GALLERY: Land all your shots on different targets! Trains PERCEPTION.
>WEIGHT LIFTING: You lift weights and exercise your muscles. Trains STRENGTH.
>ASSEMBLY GAMES: Identify firearms by shape and disassemble and reassemble them. Trains DEXTERITY.
>MAGIC EXERCISES: Cast magic to improve your spells. Trains MAGIC POTENTIAL.

>>1653029
>>WEIGHT LIFTING: You lift weights and exercise your muscles. Trains STRENGTH.

>>1653029
>MAGIC EXERCISES: Cast magic to improve your spells. Trains MAGIC POTENTIAL.

>>1653029
>>ASSEMBLY GAMES: Identify firearms by shape and disassemble and reassemble them. Trains DEXTERITY.
DEX is pretty low

>>1653029
>MAGIC EXERCISES: Cast magic to improve your spells. Trains MAGIC POTENTIAL.

>>1653029
>>MAGIC EXERCISES: Cast magic to improve your spells. Trains MAGIC POTENTIAL.

http://www.strawpoll.me/13389990
Totally not a waifu poll, guys

>>1653029
>RUNNING: It's literally running. Trains CONSTITUTION.
Let's become tough as a brick and have a gun: a slightly more literal tank

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>>Keiichi: Do some MAGIC EXERCISES.

Yeah, that sounds good. Your MAGIC POTENTIAL has been slipping recently and you’d like to get it into shape. In that case, you should head inside.

>>Keiichi: Observe Akasha-Alea’s fortress.

The interior décor is that of a somber Victorian mansion crossed with the insides of a well-guarded military base. The walls are plain and there are few trophies in the halls. The color palette lurks opposite the reds, yellows and pinks. Akasha-Alea is not a fan of gaudy decoration—a trait one could guess from her sense of fashion. Nevertheless, you have the impression of walking through the company of an existence much grander than yours. A slow waltz would be perfect.

You’ve been here with your mentor enough times to be more or less familiar with the layout. The place feels even lonelier, now that she’s away. Nobody speaks. No-one runs into each other. The footsteps of the marching familiars echo through the hallways, ghost-like and rhythmic. They all stay out of your way. If you sat in the shadows, you feel as if you might be consumed by them.

You arrive at your destination: a small training room. In it are various artefacts stacked on shelves and tables. The air has a muggy, dusty smell to it. At the same time, the atmosphere of mana stimulates your circuits, makes you feel at peace. Runes are carved into the furniture and they are arranged in a such a way to direct wasteful magic upwards and into the outside. You pick up a small white prism and inspect it.

Ah, you remember this. Akasha-Alea gave them to you in order to practice controlling the flow of your mana. It was preparation for the Anti-Mana Bullets. Blackening these things with the void element was tough, but you’re glad you persisted.

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>>Be Akasha-Alea around three years ago.

Your name is Akasha-Alea and you find yourself being quite cross with your mentee.

It’s not a first. The boy—Keiichi—is far from perfect, prone to making silly mistakes during training. Incorrect stances, lack of firearm maintenance, distractions from outside sources and the like. He even forgets the basic laws of firearms from time to time. He is inexperienced and mistakes are an inevitability, but they are so foolish you can’t help but frown in irritation and burn your gaze into his head when they happen.

When you glare at him, the boy usually shrinks back, apologizes in a single breath and engraves whatever lesson he just learned into his brain. He then doesn’t repeat that mistake for quite some time. He learns. It’s a strategy you’ve decided to exploit and for some reason it’s not working tonight. You are puzzled as to why that is. Your hands are on your hips, your shadow is looming over him and you are hitting him with the classic high spirit aggravated glare-scowl combination straight in the face. It should be perfect. You once performed this on a servant at your father’s domain and it made the poor soul fold like a house of cards.

Yet, the boy sitting up on the bed before you doesn’t look remorseful at all. On the contrary, he looks mildly pleased with himself. It burns an itch in you, sends anger running up your spine.

“Boy, remind us what I told you regarding the prism exercise.” You state, weighing down your words with your displeasure.

“That I wasn’t supposed to exhaust myself.” He offers, sounding not all that guilty.

“Specifically, you were not to exhaust your supply of mana.” You finish. You narrow your eyes to enhance your glare. The air grows heavier. “Then tell me, why did I find you unconscious in your back garden with the symptoms of mana exhaustion, dressed in clothes far unsuitable for the current weather?”

“Oh yeah, that happened. All that mana usage made me hot.” He pauses for a second. “Wait, how did I get in here?”

The answer is that you carried him in here with your own two hands. You then transferred mana into his body via hand-to-chest contact. Had this been your domain, you would have summoned a familiar to take care of the job. But this is the human world, where technology gives extra eyes and cameras are everywhere. You once swore not to leave any traces of yourself than what was necessary and you are not going back any time soon. You do not plan on telling him this; you will not let stray the two of you from what is important.

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“Irrelevant.” You declare with a wave of your hand. “Answer my question. Why were you unconscious?”

“Okay, I might have gotten a little carried away.” He admits. He shrugs his shoulders.

“And you did so even though I specifically told you not to.”

“I guess that happened…?”

“There is a term for this kind of action. It is called insubordination.” You say, grinding your words into a quiet snarl. “So boy, what do you have to say for yourself?”

He looks up at you. He sees the anger crossing his features and quickly averts his gaze, his coolness vanishing in an instant. “I guess I screwed up.” He mutters.

“Indeed, you have.”

He flattens his mouth into a line and says, “It was worth it.” No hesitation is present.

You step forward. “And why is that?” You demand.

“Because I blackened a prism in the end. I did magic.”

“That is not the point, boy.” You snarl, standing over him. Your hair parts to the sides in long black strands. “You may have succeeded in what I asked you to do, but you have also recklessly put yourself in danger while doing so. That is not something to be proud of.”

“Yeah.” He replies, sounding morose. Deep within your heart, you feel a stab of satisfaction.

“Mana exhaustion strains one’s circuits. If pushed too far, they will burn out and rot. You cannot do this again.”

“I get you.”

“Were you in an organized force, you would most likely be subject to punishment upon being released from the hospital. You might even be considered a liability and withdrawn from the force altogether. That is not even considering the other long-term effects of burning out one’s magic circuits.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand all.” The boy says. He stares down at his blankets, hands clenching at the edges. When he speaks, he barely looks at you. “Look, you want to punish me, right?”

“That is typically what happens when you disobey my instructions, yes.” You reply.

“Then just get it over with since it’s already done. Do your worst or whatever. I don’t care. I was prepared from the start.”

The shame in his voice is obvious. At the same time, there is a hint of defiance. It’s arrogant. It’s foolish and reckless to the point of being despicable. It forms cracks in your mask of composure, makes you clench your fingers, sends the beginning of another snarl crawling up your lips. The anger in you burns like your father’s furnaces, fiery and resolute.

You want to chastise this stupid human boy about the consequences of mana burnout. You want to tell him horror stories of victims of burnouts—tales of ex-magic lying in dreary hospital beds, wrapped in healing cloths, agonizing over the burning sensations beneath their skin, contemplating the meaning of their existence now that their main source of strength had crumbled into the dust.

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You want to remind him how devastated his family would be if he were to suffer those consequences. Particularly, that sister of his, who practically suffers from an aneurysm whenever he is hurt. You almost tell him about how you froze up when you felt his weakening vitality through your bond. How you dropped everything to rush over to the gateway to the human world.

Had he been well at this moment, you may have even inflicted physical punishment.

And yet, beneath all your anger, you understand him. You understand why the boy pushed himself to such an extent. It’s why he was so excited when you showed him the prism blackening for the first time, though he tried to control it. It’s the reason for the exhilaration he demonstrated upon passing your first test and the little hesitation he showed when you offered the mentorship contract to him. It made him seriously consider your offer of training him into a child soldier, only stopped by his family’s perseverance.

Could you have stopped this from happening? No, most likely not. You’ve been around the boy long enough to know how he acts and reacts. You were observing him even before he became your mentee. His nature would have pushed him to do something like this, eventually.

Despite everything, you’re impressed aren’t you? A gentler side of you whispers.

Foolishness! Your ire barks, The boy disobeyed my orders! I will not feel anything of the sort!

Your gentleness snorts. He completed the task in half the time we initially estimated. True, he overexerted himself, but the fact remains that he exceeded our expectations. It’s why we were caught off guard, after all.

Disobedience is disobedience, regardless of the circumstances.

And his achievements are his achievements. Is he not worthy of praise? Is the void element not difficult to control?

Damn it all, what are you to do with this boy? Are you to scold him more or acknowledge his achievements? Your pride demands the former, yet your kindness demands the latter. The conflict kneads a knot in your chest. It throbs in your head. You cannot believe you are suffering actual turmoil from this!

You realize he’s looking at you, eyebrow raised in confusion. You need to say something quick, lest he lose faith in you.

“Very well boy, since you yearn for it so dearly, a punishment will follow.” You state.

“Can we do it tomorrow? I think I’m about to pass out.” He moans. You press on anyway. In an instant, you resolve the conflict within you.

“Your punishment shall cancel out your reward.”

The boy pauses. “Say what?” He splutters.

“Did you forget? I said that if you were able to successfully blacken a prism, I would reward you.” You answer, folding your arms. “I was going to let you have the weekend off.”

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“…I forgot about that. Whoops.” The boy says, a sheepish grin appearing on his face. You immediately counter it with a stern look. This is no time to be playing around.

“However, I cannot overlook this act of defiance. You will spend tomorrow recovering and reflecting on what you have done. Then we shall resume our normal routine.”

“Okay. I’m cool with that. Can I think of it as the reward cancelling out the punishment?” The boy asks.

You purse your lips. “Do as you wish.” You say. Satisfied, the boy smiles again, tired. You see his eyelids flutter and threaten to shut.

“So, what do I have to do next?” He says, grinning weakly.

“Rest, boy. This is no time to be discussing such matters.” You say, firmly.

“C’mon, tell me all about it.”

“Rest.” You affirm. “All of tonight and all of tomorrow. If you somehow manage to burn out what remaining mana you have, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”

The boy does not respond. He lapsed into unconsciousness moments ago, his head haven lolled onto his pillow with a dull thump. You watch his chest gently rise and fall with every breath. The house remains empty. On a bedside table, his phone gently vibrates. A message from his sister. Constant observation has given you insight into the boy’s passwords and you consider answering. You decide otherwise. It would be rude.

You stare at the boy some more. You then take hold of a nearby blanket, hold it for a second, then cover the boy’s sleeping body with it. You step back, shake your head again and exhale. Yassine once joked that ever since you formed your mentorship you were getting soft. You are starting to consider there might be some truth in her words.

And yet, it is not a wholly unpleasant thought.

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>>Be Keiichi Hirayama in the present.
As you sit cross-legged on the carpet, stretching your senses with Bullet Time and covering cartridges with void magic, you wonder what Akasha-Alea is doing. What is happening in the gathering she is attending? Is she debating with the other Waffegeists about their policies? Are they having a grand party and is she, impossibly, enjoying herself there? Or is she fighting against the sword spirits she speaks of in such repulsed tones?

Well, she’s your mentor. She can take care of herself. You know it.

Even so, you hope she comes back safely.

>Your MAGIC POTENTIAL has increased by 1.

Okay, I'm spent. But it's the good kind of spent. It's the kind of spent that comes from having a job well done. Thanks to everyone who participated today. It sure was fun.

I posted this on Twitter but I'll post it here: the greatest motivation a QM can have is people posting in his thread. So if you want me to write faster, please post stuff related to the quest. It can be the stupidest of things and I'll be happy with it. This is the last time I'll mention this.

We're very close to something very important. I'm going to try and take a page out of Kaz's book and post updates throughout the week. The links to the updates will be posted on Twitter. I don't entirely know if my circumstances will allow for this, but I'll see what I can do.

Next session is on 15th of July, 10:30 pm UTC start. See you all then!

yukine chris best girl, no matter what anybody says. liking traps may be gay but astolfo is still kawaii

Archived Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1651075
Ask fm: http://ask.fm/TwilightThorn441
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TwilightThorn

>>1653254
Thanks for the thread! Good to see you back at it!

>>1653254
Thanks for running. Good to see you back.

>>1653254
Nice to see you pick a quest back up. Feels like a historical moment lol

>>1653254
Thanks for running!

>>1653254
So many QMs I like suddenly coming back from the dead lately. It feels good, TT. It feels good.

>>1653254
Thanks for running man, missed you.

>>1653254
Good to have you back TT!

[Spoiler]Zenbu is great but everyone knows Hibiki is best Geah![/Spoiler]

>>1653254
Thanks for running!

So how do you guys think Akasha and Avery's first meeting will go?
I'm pretty much expecting Akasha will try to consume Avery or something, not wanting to have any lesser spirits trespass on her domain.

>>1653782
Akasha would not mind probably.

>>1654036
Probably depends on why homuhomu ate up every other firearm spirit.

>>1653782
At the very least, I expect her not to be very pleased with us. We'll find out what's going on with this at any rate.

Damn, I'm super happy this started again.

>>1654036
>>1654963
>“Well…Akasha-Alea used to say that there were other gun spirits, but all of them challenged them for her throne, so she took them out.”
I dunno, sounds to me like she's got a bad history with other gun spirits. Though it's pretty interesting that no new gun spirits has appeared in her realm since magic returned to the humans.
There's probably more spirits like Avery around. Maybe we'll get a quest to go catch 'em all?

>>1656412
I dunno, guns are obsessed over throughout the world, it's hard to believe they wouldn't be cropping up all over. I'm thinking A-A has a pretty active role in the dearth of gun spirits bro.

>>1656412
But our girl here isn't really interested in the spirit world.

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When you boil down to it, magic is all about thought. Doesn’t matter if it’s elemental manipulation, rune enhancement, faith restoration or spirit illusions—in the end, the act of casting a spell always involves the magus sacrificing mana to project their will onto reality. How this happens is another matter altogether. Magic is a fickle beast, hard to start and violent when awoken, and unless the right instructions are issued, it won’t obey.

Humanity needed something to stimulate their minds, in turn setting their magic circuits ablaze with energy. They looked deep into themselves, their histories, and found the things that held significance. Languages of the spirits, carvings on the walls, prayers to the heavens, drawings etched on infused papers and floorboards…as long as there was understanding, there could be visualization and thus the miracle could be made.

Right now, you are clutching your handgun in the training range, body in the usual firing stance, mana coursing through your hand. It feels cold, as if encased in a thin layer of frost. The first step was to blacken a prism. The second was to encase a cartridge and the third was to apply the effect through your weapon (easier than it sounds, all you need is to control the flow of mana to where the cartridges are stored). All that is left in your quest to master the Anti-Mana Bullets is the uphill struggle against magic intensity, shaping precision and casting speed.

You concentrate, squinting your eyes in the process. The element of the technique is void and, as your mentor taught you, that is where your thoughts must wonder. You think about the emptiness, the consuming blackness, the nothing where something once was. Your bedroom in the dark, the vastness of the night sky, the crumbled ruins scattered throughout your mentor’s domain. You recall the coldness you felt before you signed your contract, the terrible way you acted towards your sister. They are far from pleasant thoughts, but you’d be damned if you’d made the same mistake again.

[i] “If you manage to progress well with your spells…well, I suppose I will have to reward you. Perhaps I will grant you a gift. My standards are lofty, as usual.” [/i]

…is what your mentor commented before she left. The last time gift she gave you was this really nice Winchester bolt-action. A toxic spirit destroyed it a fortnight later, but it was the thought that counted.

The void trickles from your palms. Breathe in, breathe out. It crawls through the metal, nestles in the magazine. Remain focused on what you have to do. Control the shape. The magic curls around the cartridges, transform them. Ahead of are you are shimmering magic barriers, red and white targets behind them. Gritting your teeth, you squeeze the trigger and fire.

>Roll 1d30
>Best out of three.

Rolled 1 (1d30)

>>1657782

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Rolled 7 (1d30)

>>1657782

>>1657803
image related

>>1657803
Well. Fuck.

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>>1657803
>>1657806

Rolled 14 (1d30)

>>1657782

>>1657803
>>1657806
>>1657816
I guess K1 either fails to conjure the void or have it backfire on him.

>>1657821
Or absolutely nothing unusual and impressive happens whatsoever.

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Your bullets fly out of the barrel and strike against the barriers. The void magic activates instantly. Emptiness and existence clash together in an effort for dominance. Cracks form in the defenses of the barrier. It seems that success is near.

Then the void dissipates and the barrier bounces back, sending the bullets clatter to the ground. The targets remain undamaged. Their red and white circles mock you, like the face of a mischievous clown.

You failed. God fucking dammit. Next to you, a familiar in a white shirt writes a big fat zero in red ink on a clipboard. The results are going to be delivered to Akasha-Alea and she is going to shake her head and wonder what the hell went wrong. You can almost hear that strict yet irritating, knowing ‘I-told-you-so’ voice of hers, pointing out every single flaw in your technique. No new guns for you.

Seriously, where the hell did you go wrong? Was the void not strong enough? Did you slacken the formation at the last second? Were you too slow? You sigh and shake your head. The nearby familiar gives no comfort whatsoever.

Ammunition in Akasha-Alea’s realm is unlimited, but your time is not. You check your watch. Anti-Mana Bullets will have to wait. Akasha-Alea assigned you reading and you’ve been putting it off. But you can’t do that forever.

>>Keiichi: Go to the library.

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...Thorn?

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>>1658003

>>1658046
At least qst is slow as fuck.

>>1657803
I can't believe you've done this

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>>Keiichi: Go to the library.

Compared to the rest of the domain, this area is comparatively normal. It’s a library. Plain in design and stocked only with books about firearms and the men who have used them, but a library nonetheless. Books are stacked in alphabetical order by shelves. You’re allowed to borrow them as long as you return them within three weeks. There are reading chairs and tables. It even has a computer for catalogue searching. For once, the silence doesn’t feel out of place.

Akasha-Alea lets you study here, as long as the topic is related to her craft. It’s a good thing mathematics, physics, history fall under that category. Sometimes Akasha-Alea tutors you herself and it is one of few things preventing you from bombing in school.

You flip through one of Akasha-Alea's assigned textbooks. The pages you land on details various defensive techniques used by marksmen in the new age of magic.


>COMBAT PERSEVERANCE: Allows a warrior to continue fighting despite damage to the physical body. It also increases pain tolerance and reduces the mortality rate of injuries (due to willpower). This talent best represents a warrior who chooses not to give up, despite overwhelming odds. Those who have mastered this talent are said to continue fighting even when their heart is pierced.

>Requires a healthy WILLPOWER and CONSTITUTION.

>GRAZING: The talent of tracking, defending against and evading projectiles, usually by a narrow margin. Humanity has developed many ways of accomplishing grazing—through eyesight, hearing, mana detection, detection of killing intent and more. The term was derived from the definition of the word ‘graze’, which means to lightly touch or scrape something. As long as projectiles do that at worst, the magus is safe.

>Best done with AGILITY and PERCEPTION.

…


>SKIN HARDENING: In which mana reinforces the skin to protect against blows and projectiles. The variant used by marksmen absorbs the impact and reduce or prevent the penetration of firearm-fired projectiles. The effect is similar to a bulletproof vest. Like all bulletproof vests, it cannot completely nullify the damage from firearm projectiles. Unlike bulletproof vests, this talent can protect the user against high-caliber cartridges.

>It has less effectiveness against magic-based attacks and the user’s agility is slowed while using it. Dependent on MAGIC POTENTIAL and CONSTITUTION.

>SHARPSHOOTER’S STABILITY: A technique developed to protect the hands and eyes—two of the most important organs for sharpshooters. The user temporarily increases the durability of those organs through the application of physical-element mana. The hands shall remain steady, even in pain or extreme temperatures. The eyes shall remain focused, even when dry or experiencing bright flashes of light. As a cost, a recoil of mental instability shall follow once the conflict has concluded.

>Requires DEXTERITY and WILLPOWER.

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>QUICKSTEP: A technique in which the magus forces the mana into their feet, propelling themselves forward at a high speed. It is known for its high difficulty curve—speed, distance, balance, precision, orientation and destination must all be taken into account.

>Only needs AGILITY.

>VOID VISION: One of the first techniques developed by contemporary magi. Allows the user to see in darkness. The user’s vision will have a dull green filter layered across it. If a bright light is flashed in front of the user, they shall be stunned. Mastery will diminish this flaw and allow the user to peer through the obfuscation and metaphorical darkness.

>Needs PERCEPTION with some MAGIC POTENTIAL.

Once, you almost learned to do one of these, but your aptitude fell to the wayside from your little truck incident. Once Akasha-Alea comes back, she’ll probably teach you and you’ll learn for real.

“Hey, who writes all of these books?”

You look up from your book at the sound of Avery’s voice, despite no-one sitting across from you. In the distance, a familiar drags a trolley stacked with books and begins placing them on shelves. “You’re talking again?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “You’ve been quiet since we got here.”

“No shit!” Avery exclaims. You can imagine her shaking her bushy hair back and forth. “You were training, duh. Now answer the question.”

“I think Akasha-Alea makes her familiars write them. She might’ve ‘borrowed’ a couple from the human world too. Dunno.” You answer and flip a page. “Y’know, you didn’t make a single comment when I completely failed those Anti-Mana shots.”

“Is that a bad thing? I don’t get it, Keiichi.” Avery asks.

“Nah, I just thought you would’ve been more talkative. You do that when I’m doing mundane stuff.”

“Not all the time! I sleep, too!” Avery says. You give her an unimpressed look. Or rather, you stare at your book like that and Avery picks it up. You mouth the word ‘school’ and warm shame runs through Avery’s body. As in, her revolver form feels a bit hotter. “ Okay…yeah, I do talk a lot, but that’s ‘cause I’m bored. You try sitting in silence for a few hours.”

You refrain from mentioning that Akasha-Alea made you do just that, in order to train your WILLPOWER. Avery’s point still holds though; it was boring as watching clouds drift across the sky.

“’Kay, thanks for keeping quiet when I was trying to focus.”

“No probs." The revolver spirit says. A second later, "Then again, I was thinking about other stuff too.”

You grimace. So much for those nice feelings. “…like what?”

Avery pauses. When she speaks, it’s tinged with a bit of a stammer. “Uh, yeah, that’s…”

>“If you want to say something, just say it.”
>“Am I that unapproachable?”
>“Your choice. Back to reading.”
>Give her some time.
>Custom option.

>>1658211
>“If you want to say something, just say it.”

>>1658211
>>“If you want to say something, just say it.”

>>1658211
>>“If you want to say something, just say it.”

>>1658211
>“If you want to say something, just say it.”
>“Am I that unapproachable?”

>>1658211
>“If you want to say something, just say it.”

>“If you want to say something, just say it.”

Managed to read the entirety of the archives. This is definitely interesting as hell.

>>1658619
Aye, I'm just glad he picked it back up.

>>1658619
Welcome to the fold.

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“What’s up?”

“Um…”

“If you want to say something, just say it.” You say, “I probably won’t judge.”

“Look, part of it’s embarrassin’, alright?” Avery snaps. “Give me a moment.”

You tilt your head. “Are you going to confess to me?”

“Confess to you what?” Avery questions. “It ain’t what you think!”

“Then what is it already?”

“I…” You hear Avery swallow, despite the lack of squishy lungs on her revolver form. She speaks, grunting and muttering between her words. “I wanna go outside. I wanna be in my human form. And that’s ‘cause…”

Her words trail off. You hold up her revolver form, scrutinizing it. Dim sunlight from a nearby small window gleams onto it, a shining sliver of pale light. It faintly reveals the model name inscribed in small letters on the barrel. You wait patiently.

“…I wanna breathe in the air here.” Avery murmurs. Had you not been in a library, you would not have heard her.

“You want to breathe in the air?”

“Yeah! I said that!” Avery shouts. “What’s so bad about that?”

“I’m not saying it's bad. It’s not what I expected, is all. Why do you feel embarrassed about it?”

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“Because I’m basically asking permission to breathe! Can’t you see, damn it?” Avery snaps again. Alright, again, she might have a point. “Besides, you told me to stay me in my gun form.”

That is true. “What makes the air over here special?” You ask.

“I dunno to put it, ain’t to good with words...” Avery begins. Yeah, you suppose a spirit girl who spent half her life on the battlefield and the rest in stasis wouldn’t be a pro at vocabulary, “But this place is a lot different to your dingy little apartment, in a good way. The sky might be cloudy like cold porridge and the grounds full of worn skirmish fields that look like absolute shit from high up, but when I came here…” She pauses, catching her breath. “Now I ain’t saying your home is bad—you guys allowed me to live there and it was full of cool stuff—but when I saw the sky here, it felt like I had just been trudgin through the rain, and suddenly this door opened in front of me and inside was the coziest damn hearth and fireplace I’d ever seen. It might’ve been small, but I felt like it was inviting me, like I belonged there.”

“Like it was home?”

“Yeah, that too. Your mentor’s home felt like my home as well. Like it was waiting my entire life for me to come here. Like it was just me and the old man again.”

You rest your hands on the table top and think. The answer is obvious—it is because she is a firearm spirit, and thus the same of kin as Akasha-Alea. You wonder how she would react to this. You wonder if she once had the genuine emotion to express similar sentiments. For a brief second, you feel vaguely guilty that a tape recorder isn’t nearby.


"Oi, what you being all silent for?

“Okay, I understand you. For the record, I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of.” You say.

“Yeah, uh, thanks…” Avery says, a little abashedly. “Keiichi, I wanna to stretch my legs, smell the air, walk around for a bit…just for a brief moment to get the taste of this place. Um, that cool with you?”

>Agree.
>Disagree.
>Custom option.

>>1658717
>Agree.

Just need to follow her and make sure she doesn't get found by a familiar, or something.

>>1658717
>>Agree.

>>1658717
>Agree

>>1658717
>Agree.

>>1658717
>Agree.
But she has to stay close.

What if we end up having to choose between losing Akasha-Alea and losing Avery (by Akasha-Alea more or less murdering her)?

Would you all stand by and let an innocent revolver spirit get mindwiped, or intervene and lose our spirit mentor, which would obviously be a big deal?

>>1658915
Stand by A-A. But get why she does it from her.

>>1658915
If the choice came down to one of them I'd have to vote for standing by Akasha. Keiichi owes everything to her.

>>1658915
This isn't that kind of quest, r-right?

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>>1659391

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You contemplate. The domain is infested with Akasha-Alea’s familiars. Their eyes are everywhere—in the shadows, looking into rifle scopes, behind the lens of cameras—and their sense for foreign spirits is on the level of a vicious bloodhound. On the other hand, you’re reasonably familiar with their movements (no pun intended) and beyond the walls of your mentor’s fortress are mostly empty plains and deserted battlefields. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a good, deserted spot.

“Sure, why not?”

You hear Avery’s cry of glee and can’t help but grin in response. You stand up and hand the textbook over to the library familiar. You leave the building and step into the open air. The sky is still overcast, but a ray of sunshine is peeking through. It’ll probably be hidden in a few hours, though. Clear skies are once in a blue moon over here.

What Akasha-Alea does when she wants to take you somewhere depends on her mood. If she’s feeling generous, she’ll call for a buggy to race across the dusty plains. If she’s strict, she’ll order you to run there. If she’s really pissed off, she’ll do the same thing but load up your invisible armory with junk and tell her familiars to shoot at you with her rifles. Since she’s not here, you can take the generous method. Outside a small garage, you hop into a mud-yellow four-wheeled and motion to the familiar in the driver seat. The engine starts up and you’re off into the depths of the domain.

Half-way to your destination, thirty minutes later, you tell the familiar to halt. You climb out and don’t look back. You hear the engines rev again, the rumbling fading into the distance. You scan the area for any other familiars—there are thankfully none—and walk.

You reach the desired place in under another half hour. Sweating lightly, you hold out your revolver, you state, “Avery, we’re here.”

There’s a flash and Avery is standing in front, back facing you. You rub the back of your neck, sheepish. “Sorry, I know this isn't the best looking place in the domain. I couldn't think of a better spot that didn't have too many familiars lurking around, though.”

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“It’s okay. I’m fine with this, Keiichi.” Avery responds, her words thick with a childish glee. She gazes at the landscape around her, smiling widely. The area is far from beautiful—it is little more than a dried out valley, a plain of reddish dirt and towering stone. Patches of plant life, yellow-green and craggy, are scattered throughout the aridness. A blanket of heat covers the area. Cracks from gunshots and scars of battle, in the form of ruined vehicles and assorted broken wood, are prevalent throughout. Your shoes roll against spent bullet casings. A battle was fought here, either among spirits here or in the human world and then muddily replicated in Akasha-Alea's domain.

You watch as Avery kneels down and scoops up a heap of dirt in her hand. The dirt slips through her fingers, her watching every speck. She picks a flower, her smile widening at the pretty purple petals. She breathes in the air, dry and scorching, and you get the impression that, to her, it tastes like heaven.

“Enjoying yourself?” You ask, sitting down on a crag of reddish rock.

“Yeah.” Avery breathes. “It just feels…right, y’know? The air, the way it looks and everything.”

“It’s based off a desert.” You point out.

“Yeah, but it’s special.” She says, hands on hips, as if the words alone explained anything. She flicks her hair with a hand and grins, showing perfect white teeth. “Man, I feel like I could spend the rest of my existence here.”

“You’d get thirsty. Also, I sort of need you as a gun.” You reply. "I think this placed is based off the deserts in America. Too bad your model isn't associated with cowboys."

Avery just chuckles and begins wandering around the area. She leaps over small stones, bends down to inspect plants, gazes at the cracks in the rocks. She picks up a dead branch lying around and draws patterns in the dirt. She giggles at the mess and goes to inspect an upturned car wreckage in the distance. You observe it all, half-amused, half-grateful that you made the decision here.

In time, Avery’s euphoria will likely fade as she acclimatizes to the domain as a whole. Nevertheless, this rugged, abandoned place will likely hold fond memories for her, and you'll simply enjoy this display of innocence while it lasts.

“Hey, this is a hunting rifle! Can it be used…aw crap, it’s all rusted and jammed. Pah.”

>“Wanna play a game?”
>“Let’s have a shooting match.”
>“Let’s talk for a bit.”
>“We shouldn’t stay here for too long."
>Custom option.

>>1660069
>“Let’s talk for a bit.”
But
>“We shouldn’t stay here for too long."


also
>Examine the rifle, see if it's a former gun spirit your mentor killed and absorbed.

>>1660069
>“Let’s have a shooting match.”

>>1660069
>“Let’s talk for a bit.”
>“We shouldn’t stay here for too long."

>>1660069
>>“Let’s talk for a bit.”
>>“But we shouldn’t stay here for too long."

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The rifle seems to be a common Remington. The surface is coated in a rough layer of crimson and brown, the result of oxidation and lack of maintenance. It’s not too far gone, though. Give yourself half a day and you could restore it to working condition.

Not that you would bother. The guns littered across Akasha-Alea’s realm are part of her endless supply. They are born from her faith; their existence is not unlike the ones forged in the human world. Maintenance for those is too much to bother with.

Avery inspects the damaged rifle, turning it over in her hands. Her mouth twists into a frown. “Hey, Keiichi, this ain’t a corpse, right?”

“A corpse?” You repeat, puzzled. “Of what?”

“A firearm spirit, of course.” Avery answers.

“Avery, spirits don’t leave bodies when they die.” Your statement is not entirely true, some spirits do drop body part, but only from a conscious, deliberate and pre-activated technique. When spirits normally die, their body disintegrates and their essence—the part that collects the faith—dissipates into nothingness. “Didn’t your old master fight against spirits? You would’ve seen something like that.”

“I guess.” Avery admits, a hint reluctantly. She scratches her head. “I dunno, I get the feeling that if I died, my revolver body would still be left behind.”

“How come?”

“Just a gut feeling.” Avery sighs. She glances down at her revolver form, sighs and places it away. Wait, what?

“Hold on, you can summon your own gun?” You exclaim, crouching down to her level. “Since when?”

“Since the beginning?” Avery says, surprised. Realization dawns on her. “Oh yeah, I never got the chance to show you.”

“…I really need to find out what kind of spirit you are.” You mutter. “You any good with that?”

“You kidding? ‘course I’m good—it’s me! I’m the best with the SW-629!” Avery cries. She thumps her chest and points at your own. “You wanna try me, Keiichi? I could beat you in bullseye match with myself, one hundred percent guaranteed.”

The offer sounds tempting. Hardly anyone in the academy, or the entire city for that matter, likes guns as much as you. As a result, the only competitions you get in the city are training from Akasha-Alea or brief one-off encounters in the local training range. It’s like being stranded in the desert, except the life-threatening thirst is replaced with discontent for the nation’s laws.

Already, you can feel your fingers twitching for your Beretta. The edges of your invisible armory are tantalizingly close. That dead tree next to that rock stump seems like an adequate target.

And yet…

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“Can’t. I’d rather not run the risk of having the familiars hear the gunshots.” You grouse, forcing yourself to calm down. “Maybe later.”

Avery looks as disappointed as you. The thought is rather pleasing. “Ah, oh well.” She grumbles. “We both know I’d kick your ass in the end.”

You roll your eyes, but remain silent. Avery stands up, stretches her arms with a small and then proceeds to rest her bottom on the crimson dirt. She gazes upwards, watching the thick layer of clouds. They have grown slightly darker. It won’t rain. This isn’t the location for that.

Time passes and you find yourself growing bored.

“Hey, Avery. You wanna talk about something?” You ask. Not for too long, though, you mentally add.

“Like what?” She says.

“Your old master? You keep mentioning him and I’m a bit curious.”

Avery shrugs her shoulders, as if to say ‘fair enough’. “The old man…well, he was a freelance magus. He would get hired for jobs with other magi and hunt stuff, mostly toxic spirits or criminals. He bought me on the first day on the job.”

“So you’ve been him from the very beginning?”

“Yup.” Avery smiles, “Fifteen straight years. Must’ve fired a literal ton of ammo in that time. He didn’t hear a word I yelled, though. Looking back, he was pretty crap at magic.”

“Can’t be worse than me. I mean, I’m not even an adult yet.” You comment.

“Nah, he relied on technology a lot. I learned that Mana-Devouring Bullet from him because it was practically the only spell he used.”

Well, that’s the advantage of guns in this age, isn’t it? They help equalize the playing field. It doesn’t matter if you’re an ordinary human or a magus. A bullet to the head and you’re dead.

“He would get super fired up in battle, running around and yelling all kinds of crap at the enemy spirits. That’s where I got all my profanity from, heh.” Avery says, smirking. “He was pretty quiet at home, though. Gruff. Drank a lot and watched movies all day.”

“Was he a mercenary?”

“Nah, fully licensed. Sometimes he complained about how the laws were binding him down and how a life of crime sounded nice. Usually he was drunk off his ass with his mates.”

“He sounds lonely.”

“That’s ‘cause he was. I don’t think he ever called his family once.”

>“Maybe we should look for him one day.”
>“How do I compare?”
>“Do you miss him?”
>“Did you love him?”
>“You don’t have to force yourself.”
>Custom option.

>>1660673
>>“Do you miss him?”

>>1660673
>“Do you miss him?”
>“You don’t have to force yourself.”

>>1660673
>do you miss him?

>>1660673
>“Do you miss him?”
Now imagine if he wasn't a one-trick pony.

>>1660673
>“How do I compare?”
>“Do you miss him?”

>"Do you miss him?”