Cold.

It enveloped him, the clammy embrace of a loveless lover, sucking the heat out of his body, dragging down his clothing with saltwater weights, even as his adaptations warmed his blood and maintained his strength. Every kick away from shore sent him deeper into the abyssal fathoms, his soundscape the only method of navigation he could rely on. Yet his head hurt, the whispers of the ocean pulling at the seams of his mind. Not suggestions, not orders, not demands, but deathly statements. It was best to hide. He ought to hide. He must hide.

His skin felt like it was being sanded off. His bones vibrated with every exertion of strength. Meager sensations, incapable of stalling the progress of a trained Egoist, but sensations that affected the mind nonetheless, repulsive sensations that grew with greater force as he drew himself towards the ‘continental shelf’ of the artificial island. And then, five hundred meters off from the shore, Shou felt it.

The agony of electricity ripping through his skin and scales, meat and bones, a magnitude of power many times removed from what he had felt in the morning. This was no longer a mere deterrent. This was meant to kill.

What was that phrase? Curiosity had killed the cat? Shou may have been no feline, but the phrase certainly seemed fitting as he gritted his teeth and pushed through the assault on both his body and mind. The irritation of hiding away like a coward because of an unwelcome memory would not disappear unless he confronted it. Discomfort and pain were no strangers to him, but companions on the path to ascension. That his body struggled meant that he had further to develop and adapt.

The sudden and almost complete loss of control over his body was jarring, but not unwelcome once Shou had a moment to fight through the haze as his muscles tensed and locked on him. His heart hammered erratically in his chest, and he was already starting to sink as he failed to continue swimming. He was not dead yet though, the pain was not blinding, and he could still struggle!

His tail snapped erratically and slowly pushed him back over the edge of the island’s continental shelf. Back out of the electrically charged death zone and towards the merely uncomfortable waters. It was truly dangerous and life-threatening, but that also meant the greatest possibility to adapt and evolve even further.

Shou was, after all, an Egoist. A warrior of unrivalled might, one whose flesh alone could survive the lightning guns of the Occident, the thunderbirds of Abya Yala. With three powerful snaps, he pulled himself back closer to the shore, the pain fading moments after doing so. Whatever this field was, it appeared to exist strictly at the five hundred meter mark, and unless the technology Bermuda utilized was beyond even that of the military, it shouldn’t extend much further either.

If he could brave the storm for just long enough, perhaps he could break through too. But with immeasurable darkness below and the all-consuming fog above, should he?

It wasn't strictly necessary, but Shou broke the water's surface anyways and took a deep, gulping breath. It certainly came more easily this way with his gills still tensed up. As he tread water and the feeling started to return to his limbs, he took a moment to consider his situation.

In all likelihood these measures were meant to keep something away from Bermuda's shores. Much like the weaker currents kept predators away in the daytime. Exactly what warranted such extreme measures was the big mystery though wasn't it? Along that line of thought, was the fog meant to conceal the island as well? Curious, curious.

Whatever the case was, the whispers made a bit more sense if his current assumption was correct. Breaking through the killzone only to run into whatever it was meant to keep out while exhausted sounded like a terrible idea. On the other hand though, using the charged waters as training to spur on his own adaptations sounded like a great idea. While he couldn't hope to grasp at the charges filling the waters and turning them deadly, his body could be molded to better endure them. His senses could be tuned to read the electricity as it raced through the waves. All he needed was to experience it for himself. Time and time again until the sensations were ingrained in his flesh.

It was mad, perhaps, but what self-centered artist upon the path of the dragon was not? Again and again, the carp floundered against the falls, again and again, lightning seared into his flesh. Repetition caused injuries to deepen, worsen, to become visible. Beneath the cold waters, Shou’s flesh became scarred and swollen by the electric current that surged at that unseen boundary line, each shock of electricity tracing another path, another mark through his body. Indeed, before meditation, before theory, before delving into the mindscape that allowed an emboldened soul to reshape their body to the idealized form, what one needed was experience.

In the void-like space just before Bermuda’s continental shelf, Shou swam in and out, risking death over and over again. So he could visualize it and feel it. The sensation of lightning crawling beneath his skin, the sensation of his flesh searing when facing that ultimate force. Blood filled the water, clogging his senses with the rusty taste of his self. But on this side at least, he was the apex predator, and all mundane beasts could only look upwards from their sheltered wells.

No pain, no gain was it? The phrase was certainly apt as Shou looked down at himself and slowly clenched his hands. Burnt flesh cracked at the motion and he winced a bit as he could barely feel anything from his extremities. His nerves must have been rather damaged if he barely felt more than a flicker of pain.

A flick of his tail stirred up the blood-clouded waters around him and Shou finally pushed himself away from the boundary instead of breaching it again. A trail of red followed after him, but the fresh waters ahead offered a respite from the metallic tang that had tinged each breath for the last… Just how long had he spent testing himself against the island’s security measures?

It was hard to be sure as most of his focus had been directed at keeping what control he could over his body. Breaking the surface again wasn’t very helpful either as the fog hanging just overhead was still thick as before. He should have waited the rest of the curfew out right off the shoreline. Beneath the waves, he could have meditated and reflected on the ordeal he had put himself through. Even now he could already visualize the newest addition to his markings, jagged and branching in contrast to the smooth flow that characterized most of his.

Planting one foot firmly into the sand and forcing himself to stand straight though, Shou hissed as cracked flesh was finally exposed to fresh air. The distant streetlights were just barely visible as blurry orbs of light, but they were enough for him to trudge towards. His tail left a trail behind him as he dragged it, but he couldn’t be arsed for the effort to raise it. The drops of blood would mark his passing on the streets much more clearly anyways, so he’d have to find some place to start recovering before curfew ended. It wasn’t like he had any way of getting back inside his room before it anyways.

R U N.

It was still a whisper, but the voice that had faded to the back of his mind as he wracked his body with pain now surged back to the forefront of his thoughts. Drowning out any other idle thought or consideration as he almost bolted into motion from it. As his body tensed though and he snapped the sword’s hilt into his grip with a flick of his wrist, Shou couldn’t help but snort mirthlessly.

He hadn’t pushed through the boundary because he had no wish to die tired, yet here he was. It seemed like staying in the waters would have been the right idea after all. The slosh of the waves meeting the shoreline was still there as his toes curled into the sand, and Shou braced himself. Sliding one foot back behind the other as he inched towards the ocean while maintaining his posture. His arm trembled while raising the sword, so he rested the blade on his shoulder. His eyes could hardly pierce the fog, so he closed them and strained his ears instead.

He did not run.

He closed his eyes.

And so, Shou did not see the lights on the distant street flick off, one by one by one. He was already in darkness. He had never left the abyss. And in his ears, faintly, distantly, he heard the song of whales, a foreign dirge flowing into his mind like ice melting into cracked earth.

He was an Egoist. A purebred Egoist. Not the traitor to her country, more obsessed with aesthetics than function. Not the celebrity-idol, bound to an archaic discipline out of desperation. Warrior blood ran in his veins, and the leviathans of the depths have been slain by his blade and his bones.

It was not his sense of hearing nor his sense of smell, but his sense of touch that warned him. A coalescing sensation, slimy yet undeniably substantial, pressed against his back, that saltwater chill seeping into his open wounds.

Startled as he was by the sudden contact coming from the direction he had hoped was safe, Shou nonetheless did his best to react. His body protested from the sudden exertion, but a flood of adrenaline delayed the inevitable. He’d pay for pushing his body like this later, if he was even able to. His eyes snapped open as he reversed grip on it and plunged it backwards beneath his arm. Twisting away from the cool, slimy touch to rip the blade across horizontally, he turned to bear witness to exactly what he was dealing with.

Nothing but darkness and fog, billowing out from the ocean. The salt seeped deeper, digging into his back now that something had made contact. Not a violent slash or stab, but rather tracing wounds that were already there, slithering up and down to find the deepest grooves. Whatever agony was dulled by his adaptations; he was built for duress that would make even other Egoists quake. Yet his blade had cut into only the mist as well, and even that mist had become only something that he could feel, drowned in the pitch-black of a lightless district.

“Ugh.” Gritting his teeth as he grunted from the discomfort of having his wounds caressed, Shou fought down the urge to heave. It wasn’t just the pervasive cold that spread through him that made his gut turn. There was something more to this, like poison being smeared into his wounds, and he snarled as he was forced to drive his foot down to keep himself steady as he stepped back.

With his weapon useless, he released it and grabbed at his belt instead. Palming one of the rods there, he easily cracked it with a simple clench. One hard shake caused the shattered crystal to mix with the fluids, and the fluorescent reaction quickly began to illuminate his surroundings.

Light shone bright in his fist, and was snuffed out just as quickly as it illuminated.

But even weakened, Shou’s mind worked fast, processing sensations that mere humans would discard in their panic. In that instance before light was drowned, he saw it: the coalescing of the mist, closing over the tube. And now, he did not need to see it to envision it, as the entirety of his body shivered at those sensations, a film coating him in his entirety, expanding from his back, twisting around his limbs, clogging up his gills and racing for his face!

‘Really?’ This thing was just obstinate wasn’t it? As he felt the mass clinging to his back surge around to envelop him, Shou crouched down low. His leg muscles tense as the cold caressed his face before the sand exploded beneath him. His head swam as he tried to launch himself right off the beach with that one powerful leap. As if the blood had all drained to his legs, his landing would be an uncontrolled and messy sprawl at best.

There were legends of Egoists capable of leaping high enough to pluck the stars out of the skies. Shou was not one of those great warriors, but his desperation had granted him power to imitate their legion-crossing bounds. Wind surged through his body, shearing off some of that strange mass that clung to him, even as his legs loosened, popped from the sheer force that he had applied. It would heal soon enough.

It would heal if he lived.

He smashed bodily into a streetlamp that he could not even see. The force wrenched the painted aluminum pole right off its foundation, exposing the inner workings of its Telesma System Receptors, electricity sparking out of broken wiring. Meager light, but energetic light. Shou could see his immediate surroundings again, and more importantly, he could feel it.

The absence of that skin-crawling sensation.

Ah, how exhausting.

It was a rare thing for Shou to feel this battered and exhausted. He could feel the rough cobblestone beneath him, without any slimy film in the way, and that was a relief. Not one that he could appreciate before he suddenly emptied his stomach though. The retching carried away the lingering sense of nausea and revulsion as he spat up naught but stomach bile.

He coughed a few more times and then spat to clear his mouth. Just barely managing to roll himself over as his chest heaved and he sucked in deep breaths of air. Even if passing out sounded like a wonderful reprieve after all this, the adrenaline racing through his veins filled his body with a twitching energy. One that his body finally could not do anything with as he sat there by the beach. The wreckage of a ruined lightpost scattered around him as the exposed wires continued to spark.

‘Ah, this looks pretty bad,’ he thought idly as he laid back, sprawled himself out, and allowed his eyes to close again. Hopefully other people’s nights weren’t as messy as his.

Bang flipped through another page of the borrowed roster. His initial plan had been to do his nightly meditation as Jeanne slept but that did not appear to be on the agenda for her. Instead he'd decided to pass the time by picking up where Jeanne had left off. From his place on the couch, he turned the book to face where she sat.

"What about this fellow? A... Redouane LaPorte."

"A man of meager intelligence and accomplishment, who besmirches his family name with every breath he takes," was Jeanne's own evaluation, one that she had concluded without even having turned in Bang's direction.

"...Not a suspect then." Bang flipped to the next page, smile unmoved. "Oh! The snout on this one could be bat-like, right? Or maybe it's more canine...?"

"A seahorse. Though for all that you've taken to naming them a 'manbat', I saw a devil." Jeanne snorted. "You're looking for a human's face, not a beast's."

"Intelligent eyes, huh."

It took some more time for him to scour the catalogue completely. There was no sign of an axe-shaped head in the photographs. Either this Egoist wasn't in the student register at all - a stowaway perhaps? a staff member? a pre-existing island inhabitant? - or they were hiding the extent of their abilities.

He wouldn't be the only one, Bang supposed.

"Well, no one said this would be easy," he murmured aloud, flipping back to the start of the register to go over it again.

"Again?" Jeanne's eyes slid slowly in the Vietnamese Egoist's direction. "Are you so disengaged as to partake in meaningless redundancies now?"

"Repetition is reinforcement." He turned the page. "And forgive me for saying this, Miss du Bordeaux, but I did not bring much to engage in when I volunteered to chaperone. That, and I assumed you would not be interested in idle conversation with me."

"I've no interest in idle conversation, yes, monsieur. Do you profess yourself to be an idle individual?"

"Never." Stalled, maybe, but never idle. "Though a conversation of any kind can always be a delight. Maybe we should be trying it more often, since we'll be in each others' orbits for the next few days."

Jeanne raised a brow.

"For example, are we wrong to assume that this devil is a student in the first place? Since I'm having some difficulty narrowing down suspects in this register."

The Frenchwoman rolled her eyes, but turned her body away from the window to face Bang directly. "Is Egoism not your Major, monsieur? Regardless of what this devil hides, their body was not that of a human's." She laid her hands over her lap, tilting her chin upwards. "If you were them, how would you hide such a hideous face?"

"Isolation. Getting housed by a benefactor or simply skulking in the shadows during the day time." Bang chuckled. "Otherwise we'd be trying to track down someone immensely powerful."

"This is Bermuda. Though rabble persist, I will not be so arrogant as to claim that only I am the exception."

"Yes, sorting this population by the definition of 'genius' wouldn't get us anywhere. I need a new parameter..."

The suspect was an Occidental Egoist. Rare enough on its own, but for them to have such mastery over a Major that was supposed to be foreign to them, it was likely they would have spent significant time in the Orient. Bang flipped through the register again, more rapidly now that he'd gone through it once.

John Ellis, Ottobuono Desideri, Jan Joosten, "...Solomon Antidivula. Didn't, hey, didn't he have some side specialisation in developing cameras too?"

"And?"

"I read about him in a journal once. He Minors in Technologism, portable photography specifically. Resided in... Tibet? Mongolia? Anyhow, he decided to further his Egoist studies around there. That man is a genius in the truest sense of the word."

Bang paced to the dining table where a copy of the Bermuda Triangle was resting. The staff page listed a 'Catharina Ahlgren' as the writer of the article, and an 'Anonymous' as the photographer. He noted the quality of the picture. It almost definitely came from a Polymath-crafted camera.

He turned back to Jeanne. "He also happens to be French. Would you be familiar with his clan at all?"

"There is no noteworthy intersection between energy generation and the capturing of light. You've proven yourself more knowledgeable than I, monsieur, in the matters of your peers." Her chin dropped, eyes turning up towards Bang. "You suspect him to be such devil?"

"After narrowing down the potential suspects, he appears to be the likeliest candidate, yes."

"Then what?"

"Then I let the others know when they get back. When morning comes, I'll pay a visit to the office of this newsletter and see if we can get more evidence corroborating this theory. If everything holds up, we can confront him and ask some questions about his behaviour that night," Bang listed methodically. He locked eyes with her and noted her expression. "I... thought you'd have some more interest in this development?"

"You are a well-read individual, one who seeks to connect with Polymaths as community and as individuals." She favoured him with her profile as she gazed off to the side, to the motley collection of evidence and detail. "You should know then, that this is nothing new. Justice remains pliable, and the only truths that exist are natural or cosmic."

A breath, the hiss of the furnace's bellows.

"Have I ever showed interest in this?"

"Not that I could glean..." He took a step towards her. "But I expected some show of self-preservation at least."

The look she gave him was one of disdain, or perhaps condescension. "It's only expulsion, monsieur, not an execution. If they value a building over a Polymath of my caliber, then they are fools undeserving of the progress they seek."

"If Bermuda means so little to you that you'd be willing to leave after less than half a week, why did you come out all the way here?"

"Take a guess."

A cautious grin. "Your secret but admirable wish for unity between the Majors?"

A smirk formed on her lips, but not so cruel as to manifest any personal grudge. "Your readings lean towards the imaginative, doesn't it? Pour me a drink, would you?"

The boy acquiesced, pouring two glasses of the nearest wine within reach and carrying them over on a tray. He took a seat on the far end of the windowsill.

"My life has been spent with conservatives and charlatans. I had hoped Bermuda would be different." She regarded the glistening glass, the fluid within. "His Holiness, at least, can be trusted to seeing beyond history. But none here."

"How can you be so sure in the brief time you've spent here?"

"In your country, is it the peasantry who hold power to shape society, or the powerful?"

"...The latter." Bang took a sip from his glass.

"Then you understand."

He nodded. "Living under the thumb of another can be... humiliating, yes. Back home there are certain reasons one cannot challenge those in power. But here..."

A larger sip this time.

"Like you said, it's not an execution. With the stakes significantly lowered, don't you think there's more enticement to challenge this society? Show them what a great mind can truly achieve?"

Jeanne continued to ponder her glass of wine.

"What drives you, monsieur? Is it that?"

He laughed, as if they really were friends. "Nothing as grand as changing the world or anything. It's just..."

He pondered for a second.

"Freedom. I want to be free to do the right thing. A little self-centred for the Cripple Prince of Vietnam, huh?"

"You wish for world domination?" Jeanne grinned. "How like a boy."

"Yes, perhaps when I finally hit puberty I'll desire something more sensible, like riches or a machine exoskeleton."

"Sensibility does not befit a Polymath," Jeanne snorted. "Leave the sense of the commoners to legislators and politicians...though you'd do well to grow a beard before you posture as a king."

He leaned closer with a cheeky smile, exaggeratedly stroking his chin. "Do you think I have the jawline to pull one off?"

"Are you not an Egoist? Or are your Formulizations just for show?"

"You're right, it was silly of me to focus on regrowing my liver instead of cultivating the perfect handlebar moustache."

"At the rate you partake in libations, it certainly is wasted effort, devoting your energies to such matters."

A pause. Words sank in.

"But it's getting late, so I shall turn in. Does your duty require you to share a bed with me as well, monsieur?"

Bang contemplated the question as he emptied his glass. He glanced at the couch, then to her.

"Only if you feel a further need for supervision." He leaned in further. "...Do you?"

That sneer formed again, disdaining but without personal sentiment.

"Take a guess."

Empty streets and diffused light.

Compared to the fervent busyness of the city of Bermuda during the daytime, with Polymaths scampering about and employed citizens either enjoying their day off or working to keep this microcosm of civilization afloat, the nightscape past curfew was one hauntingly quiet. The fog consumed all noise, and the eclectic fusion of architectural styles, while charming in daylight, transformed into garish shadows that loomed just beyond a human being’s ability to distinguish them. Lucretia was focused, but she was no fool. Schwarzritter, as imposing of a golem as it was, could only act on her direct command. If her throat were slit before a full command could be spoken, it was all over. Schwarzritter would remain inert while she drowned in her own blood.

But such dreary thoughts were not worth lingering upon. The German Technologist had no designs to sleuth about in conditions that rendered all her senses worthless, after all. If things felt dangerous, she could just ride on Schwarzritter and make a beeline for her suite. Any Starsteel Formulized wall would fall swiftly to her golem’s weapon systems, unseemly and barbaric as such an escape may be.

Perhaps such barbarism would be necessary after all.

The fog chilled her frail body to the core, every breath of the humid air tickling at the back of her throat, urging her to gag. But beyond that, she could hear it. A sound akin to the billowing snap of bedsheets upon a clothesline. To a ship’s lax sails suddenly being struck by stormy winds. To a singular wingbeat, sailing overhead, then dropping with an audible thump some dozens of meters away.

Lucretia gulped down the saliva building up in her throat after realizing that she had unwittingly held her breath for a moment there, perhaps out of subconscious urge to not breathe in whatever substance contained in the mist, it could be toxic for all she knew. Unfortunately for all of its advantages, Schwarzritter was no Panzermensch, nor power armor, she couldn't ride in or wear it, where it could otherwise shelter her from harm via brute force or noxious gasses. As of right now, Lucretia could only make the best of her situation by commanding the steel-blue golem to place her on itself so she could piggyback it.

Now riding on her artificial guardian, the petite polymath tuned the iron knight's circular lights to glow brighter, bright enough to provide effective illumination through the fog like a well-made flashlight, the azure beam illuminating her surroundings and combined with her heightened position, she shouldn't be as vulnerable as a pedestrian with nothing on their person. Then, just as she was done setting up her escort, a sound - loud enough for her mundane human ears to pick up - akin to a sheet being spread swiftly. A single flap of wings... followed by a dull thud. "Scheisse..." She whispered under her breath; judging by her current situation and recent events, it was irrefutably justified for Lucy to start preparing for the worst, a hostile assailant was hunting her.

"Nnghck... mmngh..." The horribly humid air assaulted her senses, causing her to wince as a hand went up to cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle a gag. Right now, she wished she hadn't partaken in the rest of the dinner as her body was trying to convince her that throwing up all of that recently-ingested food was in her best interest. For the moment, at least, she managed to conquer her gag reflex and commanded the now-luminous golem to carry her home, while she kept watch for any funny business as best as she could. Twas' obvious that she had no intention to initiate a physical altercation, but would have no qualms defending herself with lethal force if provoked.

The flashlights seared into the fog, but only lit up the water droplets that made it up, creating beams of white that revealed nothing but white. Lucretia herself now clung to the back of her golem, more like a cockroach than a lady, all while Schwarzritter continued forward in plodding, but unhesitating flight.

Another thump, the force seeming to shake it away. The distant sound of a single wingbeat.

Silence.

Whatever it was, it was gone.

Much to her frustration and disappointment in equal measure, even Schwarzritter's many lights tuned to high intensity could achieve naught but illuminating the thick water droplets, which goes to show just how moist these particular mists were. The unfortunate implications were numerous, two of the major ones were that she couldn't reliably locate this assailant for one, and for two, she couldn't command the golem to float too fast lest she risked careening into a wall or some such.

Left with no other choice, she was forced to march onward on her golem's upper back, its torso leaning slightly forward to accommodate her position and keep its mistress stable. With her eyes practically useless, her mind defaulted to her other senses to keep track of her surroundings; a grossly pale imitation of what Egoists could achieve, but even still, that wingbeat was loud enough for her to notice, but after that... nothing, and it scared her; there was no telling that the assailant had left, they could simply be far too quiet for her to observe.

In any case, as long as she could return to her dorm, then all would be well, she was sure of it.

All would be well. All should be well. Through the abandoned streets, Lucretia continued to cling, floating atop her indomitable guardian, senses strained for any more signs of danger. But was it the fault of her meager senses that she picked up nothing? Or was there truly just nothing there?

In the unknown, it was the savants, the prodigies, who could draw the most possibilities, the most dreadful ends. In her homeland, she could rest assured knowing that the government was watching her. In her own home, she could rest assured knowing that her servants were loyal and well-trained. But in Bermuda? ‘Freed’ from oversight? Lucretia was alone, and the vertigo of that freedom weighed heavily upon her mind. Her lips were drying out. Her throat was growing itchy.

She could taste salt, coating her mouth. She could feel the slime of the sea, permeating her nostrils. And yet, there was still nothing. No more footsteps. No more wingflaps. No gunman in the shadows, no assailant hopping from roof to roof.

She could not even hear the thrumming of Schwarzritter’s floatation systems.

With her Iron Sentinel around, Lucretia could muster just enough courage to stay mostly composed. Even without her family or servants, Schwarzritter was there with her and he was all that she needed to get through this. In the fog-choked streets of nighttime Bermuda, Lucy's gag reflex was acting up again as the unpleasant smell was getting to her once more, her body practically giving her an ultimatum, either she empties her stomach now at her own behest or it would eventually force her to do so. "Mmmbfh...!" And this time, the white-haired technologist caved in. She barely eked out a command for Schwarz to stay put, turned her head to the side, and lurched forward...

"Nnn... eeergh...!"

...regurgitating half-digested roast duck among other foodstuff, her pale complexion reddened as her small body strained, ejecting most of what she ate, no doubt much to Robespierre's chagrin had the Frenchman knew. "Haa... ah... uuurgh..." Tears flowed from bloodshot eyes, an instinctive reaction that usually accompanied vomiting, the girl took a moment to catch her breath and bask in the catharsis before wiping her tears and instructing her knight to move once more.

"...?"

Except she couldn't... speak? No, she was positive she had just spoken as her brain recognized the tone of her voice, albeit the words were muffled to incomprehensible mumbles like trying to hear through several layers of padded material. Furthermore, just to be absolutely sure, her hand went to her throat, confirming the vibrations of her vocal cords; there was only one other conclusion from this, she had somehow lost the ability to hear, and any arguments against this hypothesis would crumble when coupled with the fact that she couldn't hear Schwazritter's Peizogravitas buoyancy engine either. Upon this realization, Lucretia's eyes widened while her pupils shrunken, dread quickly settling in, more like a rapidly approaching tsunami than a slow creeping wave. For the first time in thirteen years, Lucretia felt truly afraid for her life, that she might be killed.

In the face of perceived impending doom, all of her knowledge, logic, and pragmatic stoicism crumbled to give way to full panic. She hugged Schwarzritter hard and began shouting commands at it at the top of her lungs, though her voice came out harshly croaked due to the physical exertion just now, but it wasn't like she could hear herself anyway.

However, though Lucretia couldn't hear her own voice, Schwarzritter certainly still could, and in all its absolute mechanical obedience, it followed her orders to the letter. In one of her frantic ramblings, it recognized one particular command, something that compelled it to charge forward as fast as it could. "...?!" Surprised by the result of her own unheard voice, she held on for dear life as the golem flew aimlessly through the fog, uncaring whether it was heading straight to a wall or not; all its mistress wanted was to get out of there by any means necessary, and it would oblige.

So the order was heard. So the machine acted.

The straightest line, the most direct route. Without regards for itself, Schwarzritter surged through the mist, charging with an obstinacy that even bulls could not match. It took all of three seconds before the iron giant smashed into a building, electricity spark over its form as it contacted the exposed copper wiring within the walls. Powerful as it was, Schwarzritter was ultimately a flying object, and Lucretia’s own arms could not withstand the inertia and momentum that she had to contend with. The small girl flew through the air even as her machine toppled, her body skidding upon a long counter before slamming stomach-first into a hefty cash register.

It was good that she had already emptied out the contents of her stomach, for what came out after was nothing more than bile and water, coating the salt within her mouth. Nothing broken, nothing life-threatening. But for the sheltered Princess of the Iron Tower, that was already much more than she had ever suffered before. Exhaustion and fatigue were one thing. Brute force was another.

Had minutes passed? Or an hour? Schwarzritter hummed, awaiting instructions. Her senses were still dumbed, her body without strength.

And in her eye, fixated as it was on the opening in the wall, she saw it. A creature descend. A silhouette rendered silent by her deafened ears. A powerful stature. A barreled chest. Four limbs coated in fur, and wings that drew the silhouette of a bat. A whip-like tail, swaying back and forth like an adder. And the face of a human, yet extended outwards like that of a double-sided battle axe.

He tilted his head at her, then opened and closed his mouth in rapid succession.

But she could not hear.

With her eyes closed and ears useless, Lucretia was obviously not acting in the best of mind as she clung into that cosmically unlikely possibility that Schwarzritter's charge would be a smooth sailing, hoping that the path to the castle was a complete straight line. It only took as little as three seconds for the repercussions of her folly to come crashing at her, or more aptly, she crashed into it. Her magnum opus smashed into a building's wall with little consequence, Lucretia's ingenious design combined with the best materials money could buy was far too much for the architecture to handle; Schwarzritter merely toppled briefly before righting itself after, the sparks from the severed copper wires a mere minor annoyance.

However, the same couldn't be said for its mistress as the Iron Princess was dethroned by the simply physics of inertia; the savant's underdeveloped body proved no match as she helplessly slid on a counter before repeating what Schwarzritter just did, except replace the wall with a cash register, and unlike her steel knight, she was the one who lost the duel. "...?!" Pupils shrunk and jaw wide open, the breath was knocked out of her as she let out a silent scream, voiceless yet one look at her would immediately reveal that she was in great pain. Shock of both the physical and mental kind reverberated throughout Lucretia as her vision tunneled, her glands pumping as much adrenaline as it could as her untrained body did all it could to boost her physical capabilities in the face of peril.

Alas, if everyone could suddenly turn into a superpowered warrior when pushed, the world would have no need of Egoists. Applying a force multiplier to a low baseline would still result in meager results. Consequently, Lucy couldn't do anything but twitch helplessly on the store's counter; the sheer amount of trauma was too much for the young polymath as her consciousness gave up right then.

..........
.....
...

"Aaah?!" Awakening with a jolt, Lucretia's chest heaved up and down. The flow of time became irrelevant to her, whether it had been only a couple minutes or hours, all she knew was that the assailant was returning, a literal multi-limbed furred abomination with chiropteran wings and a lizard tail, made worse by the mist covering it and how it stared at her, chattering its jaw like a rabid hyena. Thus, despite its humanoid face, Lucretia never registered this entity to be human, forgoing any sense of empathy as fellow sapient beings.

This... this thing was hunting her, it was going to kill her!

That very thought managed to convince Lucy's body to move as she forced an arm to point straight at the creature, frantically wailing with the loudest unheard voice she ever made in her life.

"Schwarzritter... vernichte! VERNICHTE!!"

Without delay, the Black Knight of Steel engaged combat mode as the inner side of its 'palms' opened up, revealing a multi-barreled automatic assault cannon mounted on each arm. With extreme prejudice, it proceeded to fire hails of armor-piercing bullets at the winged figure, in all its unflinching focus to eliminate the target.

A puppet was only as powerful as its puppetmaster, and general orders were followed to the letter, rather than to the intent. As Lucretia gave her panicked order, the devil rolled his eyes and leapt up, right as Schwarzritter opened fire. Armor-piercing bullets shot through the mist and continued to shoot through the mist, targeting the direction that she had first pointed. Steam hissed as the compressor worked at full power, pumping out bullets at rapid speed towards nothing.

And for all of Schwarzritter’s power, it was still an existence that could carry only a limited amount of ammunition. Once steam ejected from the cannon without any bullets to follow through, the devil popped back down once more, gesticulating broadly towards Lucretia, mouth opening and closing once more. It was still the second night. During the first night, she had exhausted herself against Sukoro’s masterwork. During the second day, she had spent it asleep, then pursuing that same man. Throughout it all, she had not yet established the weapons delivery system.

Now, her great knight could only rely on its physical mass against a demon of physical aptitude.

Lucretia's tactical acumen was basically non-existent at this particular moment; all of the test runs she conducted at operating Schwarzritter went out of the window for pure survival instinct. When it came down to it, the German girl was more engineer than soldier after all, probably possessing an even wider gap between the two roles than even a certain Russian polymath. She didn't sign up to be involved in an altercation with a monster, hell, she didn't even expect monsters to exist in Bermuda in the first place, what was that about this being the best prestigious academy in the world?! The management would hear of this! She, nor her family, would let them live it down!

Latching onto any feelings that could offset fear - anger being a potent one - Lucretia's brows narrowed in wrathful hatred, like that of a cornered deer who suddenly turned from skittish to being the bravest animal in the world. Even after Schwarzritter's ammunition ran out, she kept repeating similar commands as the Steel Sentinel wasted no time in folding its cannons to switch for a pair of gigantic claws while simultaneously charging at the creature to shred it into bits of gore and viscera!

Of course, obviously enough, Lucretia didn't have the composure to realize that the creature wasn't actually attacking her for one reason or another.

The devil scratched his head, then bent his legs.

Schwarzritter was fast, but only for a large, floating device. Just as airships could not match locomotives in speed, a machine whose function was to float weightlessly could not match the substantial strength of a fleshful being. Schwarzritter’s claws struck nothing, the lithe form of the demon slipping past effortlessly. Gliding through the air, he plucked Lucretia off the counter, dropped down behind the bar, pulled an aluminum nozzle out, and pressed the trigger.

Water, cool and carbonated, blasted into her face, then her mouth, then her ears. In the firm grip of the devil, Lucretia could do nothing more but flail her limbs ineffectually.

And then, it stopped. In the darkness of the bar, Schwarzritter’s churning gears and thrumming engine sounded still as it savaged the area in front of it with its claws. Fluid droplets, water mixed with tears, snot, and salt, pitter-pattered against the linoleum floor. A sigh sounded, and then the devil plopped her back atop the counter, posturing her to sit upright. He took a step or two back, leaning against the shattered glass cabinets that held a couple bottles of wine. “Well, you cooled off now?” A voice a touch impertinent, but with no real malice. “And could you turn that thing off?”

With the mist obscuring her vision and something deafening her ears, Lucretia had no reliable feedback to examine the results of her commands; like a fish flopping on dry land, out of her element yet still trying with everything she had to fight back. It was unfortunate that she couldn't hear the sounds of forged steel claws swishing through empty air, or even the terrible squelches of shredded flesh and bone; like a musketeer firing blindly, she could only hope that her shots achieved something.

Alas, all she achieved was being a minor nuisance to whatever figure that spooked her. He simply glided into the hole in the wall and effortlessly snatched the diminutive girl off the counter; she must've weighed like nothing to someone of his strength, so fragile like a twig that he had to exert conscious effort to not accidentally snap her spine in two. To no one's surprise, Lucretia was screaming murder as her dainty fingers tried to claw off the assailant's wrist.

Fortunately, the stream of clean water forcefully shut her up before she could utter a command that could end up in Schwarzritter committing regicide on its own master. "Mmmbfh...! Mmmmmngh!!” Like a kitten suddenly being doused in water jets, the white-haired technologist squirmed and flailed futilely.

Then, the 'waterboarding' was over as quickly as it came, leaving an utterly showered teen as droplets dripped off her face and damp silver locks clung to her body. Her expression was still that of a panicking rabbit kit caught in the palms of a man, eyes shrunk, lips pursed, frozen in fear. It wasn't until the... 'creature' spoke in the Lingua Franca Academia that some amount of realization began settling in, gradually reigning over the crippling terror. Fear slowly shifted to disbelief even as the uh... uhm... entity took a few steps back, giving her space to take it all in.

It was also at this moment that Lucy realized that she could hear again. The water... aah! The mist clogged up her ear canals! The obscuring fog, the demise of her dinner, and the deafness, it was all the thrice-damned mist's fault! It now came to her that this four-armed winged person thing - an Egoist? - was likely trying to help her, not hunt her. "..." If Lucy wasn't already red from adrenaline-fueled exertion right now, one could bet that her fair cheeks would be blushing as red as the spilled wine.

She was silent for a good ten seconds, body trembling with the utter embarrassment at her pride and dignity. "...S... schwarzritter, bleib stehen..." She mewed out the command, but due to the lack of noise pollution, Schwarzritter's sensors still recognized it and the golem retracted its claws as it stood rigid once more. That done, Lucretia refused to make eye contact with the bat-winged Egoist, green eyes shifting left and right, it was incredibly obvious that she was currently suffering the level of awkwardness that'd drive a person to want to crawl into a hole and disappear.

He stared at her a bit longer, then shrugged.

“Well, if you’re alright, then I’m leaving. Thought it’d be something big, but I can’t really call this an opportunity.”

The petite girl was starting to be more curious than embarrassed now, especially after what this strange figure said, "What opportunity?" She didn't really give him a chance to reply before focusing on the one thing that started all this, "What's with all this fog? It's not a natural phenomenon, I'm sure of it. Who or what did this? For what reason?!"

“Those are answers that I can’t answer, little lady.” He reached into the shattered canbinet and pulled out a bottle of wine, snapping off the top like one would a piece of straw. The Egoist drank from it deeply, then gestured the bottle towards Lucretia. “You drink?”

"What?! WHY?!!" It took her less than a second to immediately erupt after the stranger's dismissal of her question. He clearly knew something, but he just refused to tell her, the nerve! Was this whole thing his doing? There was no proof of that... but the fact that he so nonchalantly withheld crucial information about this clearly hazardous phenomenon didn't bode well on her image of the man-bat. Her eye twitched at the wine offer, she had just vomited everything and after smashing against metal with her belly, she wasn't in the mood to be consuming anything. "ANSWER ME!"

He looked at her, eyes widening at the outburst, before laughing. Laughing hard, doubling over and clutching his face. “Because,” the Egoist managed through chuckles, through unexpected mirth, “I don’t know?”

"Guuu...!" Lucy's face couldn't be anymore red even if she wanted to; anger, exhaustion, frustration, and shame all mixed together in a slurry, pushing her stress levels to the limit, physically and mentally, "THEN YOU SHOULD'VE SAID SO!!!" For someone so small, she screamed quite loud alright. "Ah..." It was then that her body started to crumble from all the strain as she blacked out for a second there, causing her to almost flop forward before her consciousness returned and she barely managed to right herself, all of her gusto had been spent as she couldn't even sit up straight anymore, "Nnngh... at least... take me home... I'll... haa... pay you..."

He drained the bottle dry, then finished the glass too. Letting out a satisfied sigh that smelled strongly of alcohol, he said, “I’m not in the habit of demanding pay from little ladies. Where to?”

"...suit yourself." Lucretia sighed harshly, she had this distinct feeling that he was underestimating her just because of her stature, but she was far too tired to even entertain that thought, she just wanted to sleep right now, "The English Castle... dor... mi... to... ry..." At that moment, her strength truly gave up as she began falling forward, her vision darkening as the price of adrenaline took its toll on her body...

Silence, chased away by the presence of another.

Perhaps the claustrophobic, throat-choking fog that rolled in from the sea would be unnerving when met alone. Perhaps the shadows of the chaotically-designed buildings or the unseen side streets and alleyways would provoke suspicion and paranoia as one stepped into an environment where sight and sound offered no true clues as to what one could do. But in the presence of another, all fears were halved. Venturing out of Jeanne’s apartment and into the unknown of post-curfew Bermuda, Nazca and Ryuuko stepped out, their destination the island’s Inner Circle. If the manbat had ended his journey there, perhaps they would encounter him once more whilst heading in the same area?

It was flimsy logic, based only off the presumption that their prey was an individual who either enjoyed revisiting the scene of a crime or who had a particularly strong reason for invading libraries after-hours. But while they had gathered ample information, they had nothing that could truly synthesise into a motive. So they went, perhaps sharing a comment or an observation as they travelled, if only to break up the suffocation of silence, the little thoughts that teased at their minds.

And as they went, so did something else. In the corner of their eyes, at the boundary of certainty and psychosis. A flicker of movement. A shadow of a ribbon, dancing without wind. There was a third presence in their area. Was it just a third?

As the lesser capable combatant of the unlikely duo, Nazca had brought as much useful equipment as she could reasonably accommodate to shore up her position against whatever lurked in the fog. As she left the dorms, she had released several other birds, as well as another clockwork facsimile that would follow the two of them and provide close overwatch –as much as it could in the fog. With a wireless earpiece and a customised telegraph key attached to her finger and inside one of her boots, she could remain in contact with her creations and coordinate actions. With luck, they wouldn’t all crash and burn in the fog with herself as a radio location beacon.

She dipped her head in agreement with Ryuuko as they started walking. “Yes, let’s.”

It didn’t take too long, though, for them to be joined by another presence, and one that was distinctly not one of her birds. There wasn’t enough for her to go on to make a concrete judgement of who, what, and where it was, but she immediately keyed her birds to begin a conservative search pattern. As an egoist, she was sure Ryuuko had noticed long before her, but nonetheless, she leaned in towards the dragon girl and whispered in a low voice, hoping it wouldn’t carry in the fog. “We’re being shadowed. You should know, I’m also a dynamist with an affinity for wind. I have doubts it can effectively clear the fog considering the nature of it, but if we coordinate, it’s possible we can reveal whoever’s out there…”

“Yeah. That was pretty fast.” Ryuuko replied back to Nazca in whispers of her own. When she first became aware of the third presence that seemed to be somewhere nearby, she had also suddenly felt a rather peculiar feeling of unease. Quite like a strong sense of disgust, just like what she would feel if she were to see and smell a particularly putrid cup of natto.

Yet the worst thing about it was not the feeling itself, but the fact that they were inexplicable. She knew not the cause of this feeling, and all she could do was to try to control the chemical reactions within her own body in an attempt to lessen the disturbing sensation. “Something’s definitely close by…” She sniffed deep, trying to catch some kind of scent, though the effort was made difficult by the mist. She also flicked her eyes to where she thought she saw movements, trying to see if she could perceive it more clearly. “Let’s hope it’s nothing unpleasant… Or if it is unpleasant, that it will be beneficial nonetheless, heh…”

“Faster than I expected,” she replied, before muttering, “Almost as if it was waiting for us.” Although Nazca didn’t feel nearly as much of a visceral reaction towards their stalker as Ryuuko had –or natto, for that matter– it was still unsettling knowing that they were being very much followed by a presence with little she could do about it but to keep walking. Well, she could, but she didn’t want to play any of her cards yet.

“Like medicine? Doubtful. If it’s unpleasant here, it’s not going to be beneficial at all.”

“Beneficial for our purpose of being outside, I mean.” Ryuuko replied, adding a chuckle at the end of her whispers. Like Nazca, for now she decided not to do anything about the presence. Attacking first will probably be unwise, and she didn’t feel like becoming another Jeanne. She kept walking toward the Inner Circle while trading low, mumbled words with Nazca.

“I suppose we’ll see if anything at all happens… If not, maybe I’ll do something about it. Just to provoke a reaction.”

“Mm,” Nazca nodded, as she twitched her finger, coordinating a more thorough search pass of the assets around her. If any of the instruments on them presented an anomaly on their sensors (aside from the fog, something she’d adjusted for) then they’d alert. So far, nothing yet.

“Keep the destruction to a minimum, if you please.”

Ryuuko grinned widely as she replied “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I wasn’t planning on doing anything even remotely violent. After all… We can’t give whatever or whoever it is an excuse that we attacked first.” She kept walking alongside Nazca, silent for a few seconds. “You ready?”

Then, without waiting for an answer, Ryuuko stopped walking. She looked around, trying to spot anything once more. Then, she called out. “Whoever’s out there… Care to make yourself known? We don’t bite, you know.” She chuckled at the end of her words. And then waited to see if there’s any response.

Silence, once more.

But the streetlamp closest to them darkened, then shut down entirely. They were now in penumbra.

Nazca tensed. She whipped around in the direction of the failed light, keeping her focus there as she immediately ordered one of her circling birds to converge on the area.

“......” Ryuuko’s eyes flicked at the lamp that had completely shut down. Alright… What the heck is this all about? She then turned to look at Nazca, whispering to her again. “So… We’re either facing a creep… Or something not entirely sentient to begin with, if at all.” The most annoying thing about it all was that the presence doesn’t seem to be the manbat they’re looking for.

She clicked her tongue, mouth slightly open in an annoyed grimace. “You got any idea, Nazca? I’m starting to think we should just either start moving faster to the Inner Circle or try to flush out whatever or whoever this is…”

Nazca shook her head. “Ugh, I think whatever it is, it’s toying with us.” Keeping her guard up, she continued, “I don’t think moving on to the Inner Circle is a good idea anymore. I’d rather not give up the initiative like that… Since we’re being followed, let’s find somewhere where damage can be kept to a minimum and then flush them out.”

Then she frowned, followed by a twitching of her finger and a tapping of her foot. The bird that she had ordered to the lamppost was not appearing. Yet, she could still contact it, as its radio signature came back loud and clear on her headset. “Stop. Something’s not right. My birds are acting strange. Be on your guard.”

She sent out another set of commands, ordering another bird to immediately converge on her own position. Then, she had them all call in their positions, and…

They were all frozen. They reported, they were in the air… but they were stationary. A perfect contradiction. That scared her. “Ryuuko… all of my assets have frozen in mid-air.”

Still, she was undeterred, and caught the coordinates of her overwatch bird. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m going to check.” It was still close by; she needed to get a look at it, and began to move towards it. At the same time, she released one of her birds from her reserve– making sure to keep it in visual range to observe any changes to it.

“A good idea as any I guess.” She nodded at Nazca’s suggestion of bringing things over to somewhere with less possible collateral damages. Then she started walking, but stopped not long after due to Nazca mentioning that something was off. “Your birds are acting strange?... Huh.” Well that sounds even more annoying.

Ryuuko waited, continuing to keep her senses as sharp as she can, sniffing the air while her eyes flicked from place to place to make sure nothing’s going to suddenly jump her and Nazca. Soon enough, all she got was more bad news as Nazca remarked that her clockwork automatons were all somehow frozen.

“Frozen? What do you mean frozen? How’d you freeze things- multiple things, midair?” Then she followed as Nazca moved to check on the one that was close by. They can’t risk getting separated now, not when she had no idea whatsoever of what the thing messing with them was.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me either. They’re literally not moving, but they’re still in the air, according to what they’re saying.”

As immensely thick as the fog was, Nazca’s clockwork bird hovered shakily just a meter or two away from her, unable to utilise any real speed to maintain a smoother flight. It did move though, and as far as she could tell, nothing had stopped it from doing so.

It simply continued its flight.

And so did the facsimile she had sent on overwatch.

Arriving at the destination that her bird had pinged, Nazca and Ryuuko would both look up to see the brass imitation, flapping its wings steadily, yet suspended where it stood. Locked in place. Gears creaking, springs whining, entirety unmoving.

Then, plummeting. Falling towards the two.

Ryuuko blinked once as she looked up at the bird literally just suspended where it was, continuing with an eyebrow quirking up at the sight. “Uhh, wh-” She wasn’t able to finish her words when it suddenly plummeted down and fell, upon which she then caught it by reflex.

Afterwards, she just held it while looking at Nazca. “Alright… So… Yeah.”

Nazca stood there, momentarily stunned at the bizarre scene of her bird flying in place. At least the new bird seemed to move, but the fog was still doing something very strange to it. She was only shaken out of this when the overwatch bird suddenly fell out of the sky, and was caught by the Japanese girl.

“That’s… physically impossible.”

Worried, her eyes darted about, looking for the source of the impossible phenomenon. It had to be an ability from somebody… A dynamist, or an egoist? Throwing caution to the wind –literally– she boosted the other bird’s flight with a gust of wind. If she couldn’t keep her birds in the sky, then she was blind, and without many more cards to play. She glanced back over at her companion.

“Ryuuko, I don’t like what’s going on here. We may be in over our heads on this…”

“... Tsk.” Well this is going wrong really really badly now… “Tell me somet-”

In relative darkness, her eyes drawn to Nazca, her senses stretched out to her surroundings, her body still afflicted with that bothersome nausea, Ryuuko didn’t see it. A sliver within the chassis. A black ribbon, dancing in a non-existent wind, writhing out from the inner workings of the clockwork facsimile like a parasite
And as fast as rainfall, it shot into her open mouth, slid between her teeth, rolled over her tongue, and stuck onto her uvula. The taste of saltwater and seaweed, of her motherland’s cuisine distilled to its most awful constituents, bloomed in the prodigal dragon’s mouth almost at the same time as she became to choke.

“!” Ryuuko’s eyes opened wide at the sudden intrusion into her oral cavity, not expecting in the least that she will be attacked by a freaking animate seaweed-like thing out of all things. Trying hard to fight off against both the nausea and the panic from the sensation of being choked, she pushed Nazca away from herself as she let go of the clockwork facsimile, mind immediately deciding the best way to eliminate the intrusion. The toxic sack in her throat instantly expelled some of its content, some of it landing on the intruder stuck on her uvula while the rest flew free towards her teeth.

She grinded her teeth, but unlike the usual, kept those teeth gritted shut while inhaling through them. Immediately the venom was ignited, intense flaming raging within her own mouth as it scorched the black ribbon. Some licks of flames escaped her mouth regardless, making it looked as if a furnace was burning strong within her mouth.

With flame, shadow was purged, the tender insides of her mouth roasting with the weight of her own fiery might. With her move, Ryuuko had turned her head into a furnace, and in an instant, had vaporized whatever had initially snuck into her throat.

The danger of choking had passed, and the taste of the sea had gained a charred, bitter taste too. But as her gaze shifted, the prodigal dragon realized.

In the thick fog and the oppressive silence, she was alone.

“Keh… What the heck?!” Ryuuko remarked angrily, face twisted into a furious glare with her shark-like teeth in full display. She looked around rapidly, on guard as if expecting that further sudden attack awaited her. A few seconds passed before she relaxed… and finally realised that Nazca was no longer near her. “Uhh….”

She looked around while standing in place a bit more, confusion overtaking whatever residual smell or taste remained in her mouth. “Nazca? Dang, where the heck did she- Oh. Uh-oh.” It then dawned to her what might have happened to her companion. ...Did I?... Well, this is gonna be awkward. Unless I accidentally offed her… Then it’ll be even worse than awkward. Hoooo boy... She scratched the back of her head with her left hand, expression turning from anger to an awkward grin. Then she remembered the device that Nazca had given to her in case they were separated, and used it to locate the missing, hopefully still alive, Abya Yalan girl.

Without any instructions given as to its usage, it took a few moments for Ryuuko to figure out how the transponder worked. But while she still sensed the presence of something in the back of her mind, of something in the corner of her vision, that exchange had proven that whatever it was, it couldn’t face her flames head-on, and that gave her the confidence to continue on.

So she did, walking in the fog, following the blip that responded to the interrogations of Nazca’s device. It was only a short distance. It was all fairly close by. Just a couple dozen of meters away from where they were. A greater distance than how far Nazca should have been pushed, but not so alarming otherwise. And soon, she stood, centered on the blip that she had followed.

There was no one there. Not even any sign of a discarded transponder. Yet, the blip continued to blink.

“..... What the heck?...” Ryuuko blinked, and then looked around her. Nothing. She checked the device again, confirming that yes, Nazca should be exactly where Ryuuko herself was. Yet nothing. “Nazca?? You around??” She shouted out in confusion, hoping that the other girl would respond. Just for good measure, she crouched down to touch the ground. With how bizarre things were, she’s not entirely sure she can trust her vision.

No response, but the ground she touched felt like the ground she was used to, at least.

“Nothing. Ugh… What the heck is all this??” The whole situation started to really frustrate Ryuuko, with the ever present disturbing presence not helping the matter as it forced her to keep herself on full alert at all times. Think Ryuuko, think… She has to be somewhere around here… In the sky? Underground? With that thought in mind, she looked around on the ground, hoping to be able to find a manhole nearby. Aside from that, she also looked up to see if she could spot anything above in the air.

It was difficult to find a manhole anywhere nearby, and as she scoured her memory as well, Ryuuko would realize that, while she had seen gutters lining the streets of Bermuda, she had yet to see anything that could actually serve as an entrance to the sewers beneath the city. The sky itself was also a problem, with the obscuring fog preventing Ryuuko from looking up any higher than three or so meters above her. Had it thickened since they last saw that suspended clockwork drone?

She could jump though. It would simply have to be a matter of controlling the speed of her ascent, in case she flat-out missed Nazca on her way up…or hit her head-first instead. If only she had wings.

Tsk. Right, I’m getting a pair of wings next. It was long overdue anyway. But for now… Ryuuko concluded that up was easier than underground to check given the situation. Finding a manhole or other such entrances to the sewers can be attempted later… Not to mention it seemed less likely considering the short time frame of Nazca’s sudden disappearance. So Ryuuko bent her legs, preparing for a jump to the air.

Alright, here goes… And then she took the leap, trying to go as high as she could. If it turns out that Nazca is really up above and directly in her route, then Ryuuko will just have to do her best to catch her as fast as her reflex can manage to avoid a collision.

What was an Egoist but a monster of physical aptitude. While even the most prodigiously powerful human athletes couldn’t even crest two meters of height, Ryuuko leapt five meters up into the air without even exerting her full power. Fog streamed through her hair and her subhuman parts, and within the accelerated thought processes of an Egoist, she saw it.

A cocoon of black silk, suspended in the air in the same uncanny fashion that those clockwork birds had been. It was the size of a human, the size of Nazca. And it was drawing ever closer. Ryuuko only had a fistful of milliseconds to decide what she’d do next.

Crap, so it came to this huh. There was barely any time to think, any time to react to what she saw. She had to take action immediately, and thus almost reflexively she primed the venom sac in her throat again. It was a risk, there was no way to know how much power and intensity she needed to put into it to destroy the silk without roasting the girl enveloped by it. There was the other alternative of touching it and bringing it down to the ground first, but then she risked getting herself entangled by it as well.

Regardless, she had to make a decision fast, and that’s what she did. Well, here goes… And she spewed the venom from the sac, ignited it with her teeth, and a gout of intense flames came roaring out of her mouth to burn the cocoon.

800 degree Celsius flames, hot enough to match lava that had just spewed out from a volcano, blasted out of Ryuuko’s mouth with force enough to reverse her flight. The intense heat alone drove back the fog, while the blast of fire impacted the opaque cocoon above…

…and near-instantly melted through it.

Whatever had made up the cocoon was undoubtedly much weaker than what Ryuuko had presumed, and she saw Nazca’s form unfurl from the cocoon for a split second before the princess of clockwork life was reduced to a silhouette against the brilliance of flame. If there was any mercy, it laid in the fact that the blast of flame itself was just that: a blast. No continued stream to reduce her partner to ash, just a wave of ignited fluid washing past. And so…

Nazca fell. Ryuuko caught her. It was not a pleasant sight.

“.... Shit.” Ryuuko stared at Nazca, carried in her arms. She gritted her teeth, grimacing as she looked at the very badly wounded girl. Nazca was still alive even if barely at least, so in that part she kind of succeeded. Yet still…Things had gone very wrong tonight. She wondered briefly if it would have been better if she had gone alone instead. After all, whatever was happening on this island during the nighttime, it felt to Ryuuko like only egoists like herself should ever dare to attempt braving it, and even then it will be a risky endeavour.

Ryuuko remained standing in silence for a few more seconds. Then, she was a blur, sprinting at great speed to return to the Incan style apartment. It was a balancing act between getting Nazca and herself to safety as fast as possible while at the same time making sure her speed and movement won’t worsen Nazca’s condition.

Her expression had turned from a grimace to that of calm concentration. This is just all sorts of fucked up. The curfew… No, this entire island. The bastards in charge around here are keeping way too many secrets. Really, what’s the true purpose of this island? This ‘Academic City’ thing feels like it’s just a cover for a much more messed up purpose…

With such thoughts swirling within her mind, Ryuuko continued dashing through the streets with Nazca in her arms. As for how she will bring herself and Nazca into the now locked up apartment, she already thought of just getting to a window in Jeanne's apartment and breaking the lock; and only the lock. No need to give Jeanne’s place a seaweed flavour to it like what happened with her and Franz’s ryokan room.