A Certain Little Legion (Recursive Raildex SI) (2024)

In a certain formerly disused laboratory, I giddily awaited the moment.

This would be the test to conclusively determine once and for all if I had cracked the secrets that went into my creation. The former Clone Dolly Workshop once produced a great deal responsible for the furtherment of a number of fields. Most critically to my pursuits here, though, Shokuhou had been used to pioneer summoning arts, to bridge worlds and facilitate the transfer of a soul.

I shuddered to think what might have become if the researchers responsible had gone on to try their hands at necromancy, but thankfully Shokuhou had done the sensible thing and refused to cooperate with her handlers at the time and that line of research had stalled out, but not too much to prevent the curious and the desperate from revisiting the concept and refining it.

Somewhat inconveniently, however, I'd been rather obliged to wipe out everyone involved, which left quite the puzzle to put together in the aftermath, but now?

I'd done it.

Probably, anyway.

I finished the last etched line of the array cut into the floor of the large and sterile-white, otherwise blank room, awaiting charging that would ignite the working to life.

It was time to test it!

With this, I would have so many new options opened up to me if it worked, and I was sure it would! I'd have the framework to devise countermeasures to enemy attacks targeting the soul and help close off one of the more dangerous avenues for actually going after all of me. I might end up being able to bring in new players to help out if I could isolate the right kind of individuals able and willing to come, or even just find new friends! And it would just be so satisfying to finally know my own origins and finally check off the last little piece of that puzzle that had been such an engaging pursuit.

From my position on the roof above me, I tracked the slow movement of the stars as they aligned for precisely midnight.

I grinned, and shot a bright spark at the etched design.

The shallow trough swallowed it up, devouring the tendril of electricity exactly as all calculations had predicted! I wasn't entirely sure just how the original researchers had done it, and at least in theory it should have been technically impossible to make work when this world was in fact this world and no other, including the world of some other soul that as the objective to move was not already at its destination locally, but if I did it in my world, did it in a world that indeed already overlaid the world at large as a different but not isolated existence...

The bright, searingly brilliant tracery began to pulse rhythmically, faster and faster as electric blue tendrils of defining power built upon themselves in the arrangement I had designed.

It was working!

I squeezed myself excitedly, unable to help myself when I was right there next to me and it was working!

Oniichan was going to be so proud of me when I told him! I'd managed to do all of this all by myself, and nobody else even knew about this place since I was the only individual staffing it.

Ooh, today was a good day!

...wait.

I frowned, examining a section within the main circle that comprised the core of this whole thing.

Something... just didn't quite look right.

On the other side of the room, I stepped up a little closer as the nearest avatar, not that it really made any actual difference in what I could observe.

I couldn't put my finger on it.

Everything seemed to be working just fine, yeah, but...

Well it just sorta seemed off somehow. Or "on" but not really in the right way, yeah, that was it.

Like it was...

Oh shi-

I screamed as everything turned false-white and dark as blackest true oblivion of nothing and nothing was right as the array for moving a soul, I realised in stark horror and tried to shout and curse at myself, didn't have a soul designated as a target parameter in the test!

This whole stupid, dozens-of-times-be-damned thing was operating precisely as it was supposed to and working blindly with me as the nearest soul to grab!

I shrieked blindly into the void and heard nothing, nothing, nothi-

"AAAH-Oof!"

Ow...

Distantly... I thought... someone else was screaming...

— — —​

"Move, move, move!"

Akatsuki tried not to shake with the nerves vibrating up from her boilers as she held onto her sisters' hands running through the clamoring hall. The entire base was in an uproar; all of Yokosuka, all of it all of it, was scrambling!

Her alarms blared within her with rote response in echo of the frenzied atmosphere.

"This is the TAO, this is not a drill! General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands, man your battle stations! Up and forward on the starboard side, down and aft on the port side!"

"This way!" Hibiki called unnecessarily, all four of them charging down the corridor on the shortest path.

Akatsuki was tempted to go through the walls, but Nagato had looked at her with the scary eyes the last time they had done that.

Akatsuki was still tempted anyway.

A mad and disappointed Nagato was one thing. To face fear no matter what was nothing, what a destroyer did, and even Nagato's disappointment could only count for so much, but what Akatsuki feared infinitely more was the hideously, enormously looming prospect of failure. Everyone would be furious and disappointed if they didn't-

"Move, move, move!" A bellowing voice repeated distantly.

That.

She clenched her jaw, and it didn't stop the jitters much.

The Abyssals were here.

The Abyssals had made landfall.

They were in Tokyo, already.

Akatsuki, Ikazuchi and Inazuma, and Hibiki all flinched in unison as rippling booms sounded overhead and shook the windows as they neared the launch point. Akatsuki gulped, and couldn't decide if she preferred that kind of booming or not. Still hard as it was to wrap her bridge around sometimes, she knew what that sound meant: supersonic fighters, breaking the sound barrier, and not too far away as part of the scramble; it wasn't bombs or shellfire raining down on the people she was supposed to protect, but she knew there were rules, and if planes were doing that over Tokyo itself...

In the lead, Akatsuki couldn't bring herself to slow down enough to open the door to the main room—it was just a door, doors were meant to be entryways and weren't loadbearing!

The familiar technicians and support staff inside the semi-enclosed pier jumped in the middle of their feverish activity, but barely took a moment to recover and start running up to intersect as the destroyer girls charged for the salt-sprayed wharf.

"Akatsuki girls, to sortie immediately, you're blitzing straight across the bay and receiving further orders en route, Channel 3!" The closest man shouted and waved a clipboard. "Free fire, active threat zone, reports for at least one high-probability Abyssal Princess, others present, unknown composition, give 'em hell!"

Akatsuki couldn't bear to even acknowledge it, gritting her teeth and telling herself that it was just spray on her face as she and her sisters leapt over the concrete edge. She summoned her rigging in the practiced motion, and hit the water smoothly, screws biting in and howling for full speed astern before her captain could even bark the command.

Akatsuki's destroyer squadron accelerated across the discordantly placid waters of Tokyo Bay all but still in the night air and uncaring of the tumult above its surface, now splitting apart in a quartet of broadening wakes.

Check, check, and check, her gunnery officers all reported, ready for action and awaiting orders. She itched to open fire on something, but none of her lookouts could spot the enemy and her recently installed radar only picked up to be Tenryuu leading Shigure and Shiratsuyu off her port bow well ahead of her own formation, likewise racing for the glowing skyline of downtown Tokyo.

Right for the heart of the entire nation...

Akatsuki ground her teeth in silent snarl and tried to pour on more speed.

She couldn't be too late, she couldn't...

Within her, her Comms officer perked up her head as Akatsuki picked up the awaited transmission.

...and Akatsuki wanted to scream as all that came through was a jumble of static with scattered pieces of words!

They were here, they were here!

"Inazuma, did you get that?!" She called out to her closest squadron-mate.

"J-Just static!" The other destroyer girl denied with worried eyes, knowing just as well as she what the radio failure could mean.

"I think it was something about confirmation?" Ikazuchi shouted over the wind, barely audible. "I couldn't make out whole words!"

And then the bottom fell out of Akatsuki's bunkerage tanks, as she no longer needed to process the racing uncertainty in her bridge.

Lightning split the night in a searing, violently brilliant bolt, as an Abyssal Princess began to gather a storm, directly over the city.

"Oh no..."

The flash lit up the clouds in ethereal radiance somehow almost haunting in the absence of the sun, casting eerie shadows on their undersides across the lumpy contours yet still shining through them. Stranger still, the coursing, writhing column of lightning stayed there in the sky as smaller forking bolts snapped off to lash at the washed-out antennae of towers around it.

In that lingering light, with the surreal blaze strangely illuminating everything from a single direction, Akatsuki's lookouts could even clearly make out the soaring aggressive forms of the fighter planes of the new era with fiery tails streaming behind them. They swarmed in ways she had never expected of the rare jets, as if the entire Kiddo Butai had taken collective personal insult and challenged the Army to one-up them, all in jets.

...because that was the kind of threat that Akatsuki and her sisters had let slip through.

The rolling thunder reached her, to mix with the roar of the aircraft snarling through the eerie false-dawn sky and the approaching choppier noise of a helicopter coming up overhead from aft. Akatsuki's radar operator picked up a cruiser-sized contact that she expected was USS Dewey in the direction the helicopter had raced in from, and she saluted the brave souls aboard the aircraft probably flying out to their death in order to get eyes on the enemy.

Akatsuki skated across the bay as fast as she could curving up where it jutted northeast past Yokohama and Kawasaki, pressing hard enough that her steam lines ached and one of her engineering fairies started shouting anxious instructions. It wasn't good to throttle up so hard so fast, wildly beyond what she could ever have managed before in her first service, but she—the city, the nation—couldn't afford any less.

Then it happened.

As suddenly as the cutting actinic glare had arrived, it simply winked out of existence.

Akatsuki had a negative impression still burned onto her rangefinders, just west of the core of Tokyo itself.

She swallowed, wondering what would come next. It always got worse. Always, always.

The answer came less than a tense minute of hard steaming later.

Akatsuki couldn't tell what she was looking at. One of her lookouts thought she spotted a torpedo at first and raised the alarm, but that wasn't it, and it wasn't a periscope either as another lookout report cited at first. A furrow in the water raced in off her starboard bow, leaving an odd wake of its own, but weirdly muted even despite the terrifying speed as whatever it was closed in, two points off starboard not quite on an interception course.

"Hawawa! Wh-What's that?!" Inazuma yelled.

There was nothing there, but something was!

It was bad news, it what it was! It had to be!

Akatsuki took executive action as the leader of the squadron and panicked!

Open fire!

Sprays of 25mm fire and top-mounted machine guns hammered out at the unseen menace, so close was it now. Nothing should be coming away from the center of all the attention, and she wasn't taking any chances!

The rest of her accompanying formation took her cue instantly, and Hibiki even snapped off a quick two-gun salvo of their newly equipped ten-centimeter high-velocity guns.

To Akatsuki's horror, it bounced off!

Flashes and sparks and twin booming detonations wracked empty air and glowing tracer fire skittered off at skewed angles. Hibiki's radar insisted there was nothing there, even as before her very rangefinders she saw that something had to be!

And then her gunnery officers ordered her crews to cease in shock when stabbing glowing lines through the air started stabbing out and intercepting her squadron's fire! It was like when Dewey spewed her deceptively little flak into the air in a single line of fire that was actually countless Oerlikons put together, or her laser gun if it wasn't invisible.

What...

The invisible contact rushed by in a whoosh of air, and that was what kicked up the seaspray around it, she realised, almost as if the unseen thing was a tiny, incredibly angry helicopter barely above the wavetops or a jet that shoved air aside to demand sound get behind it.

What in all the doughnuts and curry was that?!

It ripped at her hair as it passed, and Akatsuki could only stare.

But then she realised she had another choice to make, a responsibility to oversee.

"Inazuma! You're on point! Continue the original mission!" Akatsuki ordered with all the conviction she could muster. "I'm going after it!"

"Eh?! B-But I-"

"Let's do it, you can count on us!" Ikazuchi interjected as Akatsuki swerved in a hard bank pulling out of formation with a nod from Hibiki.

Akastuki had to trust her sisters that she could.

This was her call to make. As squadron leader, it was up to her to make judgements in the field, and this entire situation was an evolving mess that had only just begun to get ugly and chaotic.

The other three destroyer girls pressed on in pursuit of Tenryuu and the pair of destroyer girls ahead of them, while Akatsuki chased after the unknown contact, one of her radio operators submitting a report that might not even be able to be received anymore.

It wasn't fair that she and her sisters and all the rest of her fleetmates could get fantastical refits of the sort she could only have dreamed of in her first service, couldn't even imagine, and sometimes it didn't even do any good anyway when the sheer malice of the Abyssals rendered her human allies blind and deaf for all that technology had marched on across the ages since her sinking.

Akatsuki could only clench her fists and press on.

— — —​

I had absolutely zero idea what was going on!

This world was absolutely insane! A part of me cheered that my research had been right on point, because the formation I had charged up worked perfectly, if not for the fact that its operator had been so decidedly less than that, but a lot more of me was kind of freaking out right now!

I didn't even know how many people had already tried to shoot me in the scant minutes—minutes—since I'd come back around and copied the first decent garment I could find after punting myself across realities to arrive here, but I was starting to think I'd kicked off some kind of interdimensional invasion scare in a world where maybe that happened. To be fair to the people who had been on the street when I'd unceremoniously dropped in, someone appearing out of thin air might be surprising, sure, but instantly screaming and panicking was a bit much!

And to make matters worse, for some reason, I was transformed and couldn't un-transform.

I considered the issue with a few threads of thought as I rocketed through the air low over the water with all subtlety save the most basic of veils thrown to the wind, and the seemingly reasonable and conclusive answer was unfortunately all too apparent, because there was only one of me, and yet I could, in fact, ponder about a couple hundred things at once; I had empirically proven that I had but the one soul, even though there were a lot of me, or at least there had been less than an hour ago, and the working I had triggered had thrown the one soul who the hell even knew where to here.

I really wished it didn't actually make so much sense so easily, because everything about me just had to be weird.

Still, it did indeed make some things easier. I still felt odd being in only one place and everything somehow seemed at once too big and too small, but somehow consolidating myself into a single physical vessel had some benefits that were hard to miss when I'd tried to scare the knee-jerk outright military response earlier with a lightshow; the control and focus had come easier than ever before, simply no effort required to align in unity with myself.

I spotted something on the water ahead as it tried to look back at me, even more aggressive radar sweeps to join the still riotous throng trying to turn everything into a veritable rave despite my distracted efforts to smother it all and keep what seemed to be all of Japan from going berserk and ganging up on me, yet without actually causing anyone any real trouble.

They looked like... ships?

Except they weren't.

Except, no, that wasn't right, they...

It was weird, weirder than the boss when he busted out the angel wings, even. Strange concurrent and yet somehow separate-yet-not overlays in my encompassing sight, a quartet of robo-girls, it looked like.

Weird robo-girls. Very obviously steampunk, for one.

They looked for all the world like anachronistic WW2-era destroyers like none I recognised, more like some what-if alternate timeline's version if the iconic Fubukis had somehow gotten some 1946 refit as the war continued or something... except they were girls.

And suddenly they were shooting at me!

I screamed from within my Adamant Air Armour, heedless of the actual threat, uncaring that my brain insisted that they couldn't really hurt me, because those were some very big guns!

I rocketed by them, lashing out with a reflexive panicked spray at the inbound shells visible in intimate detail careening toward me.

What the hell, man?!

Bullets that big had no business flying at me!

To my relief, they stopped almost as soon as they started, either in realisation of the futility or checking their fire as I neared a normal enough looking Arleigh Burke. I winced as its prodigious and manic radar and electronic warfare suite tried to jitter everywhere and I resorted to simply stifling everything without pause to assess each facet individually to see if it would matter; that had to scare some people somewhere when one of the ship's primary functions was to sanitise the skies of anything up to and including nuclear launches.

Assuming this world worked that way, anyway.

Sorry...

I rushed on by the ship, marvelling a little sheer scale of the neurotic response that even this big old girl was scrambling to action.

What a mess.

I shook my head to myself as I neared a shoreline, pulling up a little in my flight.

As I did, though, my clairvoyance captured a very particular sight.

I...

I liked naval history. It was a real passion of mine if I was honest. Yeah, maybe I was a nerd or something—and actually I couldn't say that I didn't care, because I thought maybe I cared way too much about what other people thought about me... but that wasn't really the point.

I came to a halt hovering high enough to keep the downdraft of my flight formulae from stirring up too much of a dust storm as I stared out through the intervening buildings at one of the two sights that, in another life, I had always wanted to see if I visited Japan, something I had never gotten the chance to visit outside Academy City, and the Kure Maritime Museum was all the way in Kure.

There, in her encasing concrete mandated to allow her to escape scrapping and actually one of the better preservation options, rested Mikasa.

The world's only surviving pre-dreadnought battleship, preserved as a museum across time as the flagship triumphant at Tsushima.

I turned in place, looking back out over the bay at the hornet's nest I had kicked off somehow.

Then, somewhat more guiltily, I regarded the museum ship again.

It...

It couldn't hurt too much to wait a little while to run off somewhere and try to find a way back to Academy City.

The museum ship was right there.

...and I was invisible. And... And besides, everyone was distracted over there, right now.

I flew forward, smiling eagerly to myself.

— — —​

Akatsuki gasped for breath, air intakes straining to fuel her ravenous boilers as she dumped more and more fuel into them, trying to eke out every last scrap of speed her hull could muster to follow after the contact.

Some part of her was busy gibbering in terror, but another of her crew told that part of her to stand up straight and see to her duties, because a proper lady wouldn't curl up into a ball shrieking while also running away at best speed when lives depended on destroyer courage.

Akatsuki just really, really wished that having destroyer courage didn't mean knowingly charging straight into the face of suicidal odds, because this was sure looking like that.

Those had been lasers back there, she was sure of it. Lasers and... a-and stealth and forcefields...

Akatsuki's teeth would have started chattering if she wasn't too busy gasping for breath as she hauled herself onto the shore once more in the direction she'd seen the not actually directly seeable thing going. She had a theory, and she didn't like it, not one bitty bit even if it were to be dipped in carbonated diesel with magnesium sprinkles on top.

Kanmusu like her... Time meant nothing to coming back. She hadn't sunk or been laid down at the same time as her sisters, after all, and they were all reunited again, and yet some of her compatriots were a lot older than her and some newer still. She'd heard that there were a few girls like Victory who had returned or in Victory's particular case not even really "returned" returned from ages ago. Some kanmusu had actually never been built in the first place, but that didn't stop them either.

But Akatsuki also knew that it wasn't just limited to the past.

There had recently been a big 'ol fuss about some bomb-powered super-sub that Iowa remembered seeing not too long ago before she'd sunk and come back, and Akastuki knew Yamato was a space battleship. She wasn't quite sure why Yamato had wanted her to keep it a secret, but she'd seen the perfect battleship shouting, "Wave Motion Gun!" before everything in front of her exploded just like in the propaganda reel.

Which...

That meant there was a scarily reasonable chance that, as she climbed up the short incline and followed the protocol drilled into her to look both ways before crossing a street, she was all alone maybe hot on the trail of an Abyssal Princess who was a futuristic ship, the kind with the very newest lasers and railguns on the steel-hulls coming out of the slipways, or a ship that maybe indeed hadn't even been designed yet, because time was weird like that.

Actually, now that she thought about it, if some kanmusu had never been originally built at all, where did the line get drawn?

Something vibrated in her steam lines as she remembered what she had thought, earlier, about how the water had looked like some kind of downdraft pressing on it, like a larger-than-life girl-sized helicopter or something, and the American helicarrier from the motion picture O'Bannon had said was fake but Yuudachi had sworn was real.

— — —​

I stepped out across the deck of Mikasa.

I was actually onboard Mikasa! Eee!

I danced in place, unable to help myself. This was a piece of history, and I was standing aboard her, in the ship, as I strode the circumference of her bridge. The ship was closed off and protected to a considerable degree, but that meant little to my abilities.

USS Olympia was the only other museum ship of a similar vintage, but the protected cruiser didn't hold a candle to a pre-dreadnought battleship!

Intellectually, I knew that a whole lot of the ship had been restored, but as I gingerly, delicately held the ships wheel in hand, I couldn't really bring myself to care.

I stepped out, careful not to mess up her important paint coating as I walked down the side of her superstructure, looking out at the protruding secondary battery and remembering a memoir I'd heard about a man who had been at Tsushima, a foreign observer officer who had been embedded with a gun crew and technically but very understandably broken laws of war when the Japanese gunnery officer had been killed and he had summarily taken up local command helping the crew shoot back at the Russian ship busily attempting to shell them.

Academy City had its own place in history, certainly, making it every day—I was a major historical accomplishment, really—but there was just something about a hulking mass of old steel...

I hopped up atop Mikasa's forward main battery turret, just taking a moment to look at everything.

Too cool...

And as I took in the ship, the focus of my sight touched upon the flag flapping gently in the night breeze overhead.

I turned, facing up at it.

The lone flag strung at her forward mast waved down at me, her quartered Zulu sign in quartered yellow, blue, red, and black triangles all pointing in...

That flag meant something, I knew.

It was a symbol, but more than just in the way all flags were. Or maybe it was just in exactly the way all flags were.

It had been a signal at Tsushima, and it hung yet now.

Flown alone, it represented an idea, a prearranged message for the navy of Japan, signifying a pledge and plea for those who looked upon it, for the Zulu flag flown alone was not done save when it truly was warranted. It was something of a callback to Nelson, and meant that the time had come for all to give their utmost, that it be their finest hour when fate would be decided.

More conventionally, it signaled "well done" or "good job" or some such. Here, like this...

I nodded up at the flag calling for those who beheld it to do their best.

That was a promise I could get behind.

And so caught up was I in my musings that I thoroughly missed my visitor until she gasped and I realised I had neglected my veil.

— — —​

Akatsuki gasped, boggling in horror up at the Abyssal Princess standing melancholic up on the forward turret of old Mikasa, gazing up at the flag flying from her foremast.

She was terrifying up close as the Abyssal turned and regarded her with a piercing, luminous gaze like a Wo, but somehow worse, just two featureless actinic icy blazes framed by alabaster.

Akatsuki thought maybe she might be a destroyer or cruiser by the look of her, but she couldn't know when the Abyssal was some kind of high-tech stealth ship that simply ignored her oh so fancy radar, and it was all the harder when Akatsuki couldn't judge her rigging much at all.

With a skittish full-body flinch, Akatsuki nervously darted a look around, not seeing anything and not knowing if that meant anything.

The Abyssal looked more or less like just a young girl, but she knew Iowa's sister in her corrupted state was more like Shimakaze than Iowa herself, on the far end of a spectrum with rigging that could just get up and walk around on its own; either the Abyssal hadn't manifested hers, or it could be hiding somewhere, maybe waiting to spring out at her. Or the Abyssal was manifesting her rigging, and Akatsuki just sill couldn't see it anyway because she was a cheater from the future like that!

All she could really make out was dangerous-looking thorny tentacles that again kind of reminded her of a Wo, and a cute black lolita dress... Or... or maybe what Akatsuki wondered if she should think of as an elegant black Victorian dress, a terrified whisper in her bridge suggested as her rangefinders took everything in and gears started turning.

"Y-Y-Y..."

Akastuki tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out.

The bright electric blue pools of light narrowed at her, then widened in Abyssal fury!

— — —​

I stared down at the peculiar steampunk robot girl down on the ground beside the ship, frowning.

Hadn't she been one of the ones who... Oh, she'd followed me!

And I'd stuck around too long!

I could explain, I could explain!

I spooled up my speaker formula in a panic, trying to stylise a qualitative filter to project a sense of honesty and truth for the other girl to know as genuine as I fumbled and attempted to come up with something to actually say with that.

"I..." uh.

f*ck.

Wait, no, um!

"Mikasa!" I spread my hands out.

Before I could stumble through anything more, the girl down at the pier opened her mouth, and screamed! High and shrill, she shrieked into the night as I froze, unable to think, to think, and the piercing sound went on and on, even as steam started wafting out of her mouth, bright and hot.

"No, I-"

"She's here! She's over here!" The other girl interjected with the voice of a high-pitched foghorn audible and what I registered as a radio pulse broadcasting openly, and flares—star shells—popped up into the sky overhead. "I found the Abyssal Princess!"

Eh?!

There was an abrupt flood of radio colour trying to splash over everything, and I slashed it away in bewilderment as the girl screwed up her eyes and pursed with her bottom lip nearly trembling.

"Akatsuki, engaging battleship Mikasa! Over and out!"

With that, she charged up the stairs toward the interior of the museum ship, arms windmilling while she ran through passageways heading for more stairs, and I saw her belowdecks beginning to make her way up, only to get turned around and backtrack, screaming all the while.

What the bloody hell...

— — —​

Three weeks after the tumultuous Battle of Tokyo Bay, Naka slumped in her desk, feeling utterly drained.

She thumped her head down into the wood, halfheartedly carefully, not wanting to actually break it, but not caring too much as the desk top gained another small dent and her forehead didn't care.

"That bad, huh?" Sendai asked from her neighbouring desk.

Naka's only response was a miserable moan.

Sendai, blessedly understanding Sendai, said nothing.

"Drills are a nightmare," Naka finally whined.

Sendai let out a deep sigh of her own.

Ever since Akatsuki had driven off the Abyssal Princess that had attacked the very heart of the nation, everyone had been in an uproar at once trying to make sure it never happened again and, compounding that problem, investigate how on earth it had happened in the first place, because nobody had a clue! Naka herself didn't have a clue how Akatsuki had managed it—and nor did the destroyer girl seem to, really—but the brass was running ragged trying to deal with the politicians and the politicians were busy crapping their pants, so everything was everyone's problem.

"Coffee... coffee... I need coffee..." Naka mumbled to herself, feeling around blindly with her head down.

She heard a scoot of ceramic on wood, and a cup met her hand.

"Thanks..."

Wearily, Naka craned her head up, wondering if it was possible to wear out her machinery on land.

Just as she was about to taste her probably cold and tepid coffee she didn't mind in the slightest at the moment, footsteps pounded loudly, racing toward her.

"Naka-san! Naka-san!" Someone yelled out for her. It sounded like a destroyer.

"Mrphmh?"

Naka blinked blearily, rangefinders coming into focus on a hard-breathing Akatsuki with her shiny new medal pinned to her shirt, thrusting one of the new compact radio phones in her face.

"The Admiral wants to see you, immediately, they all said! You have to see this, you have to see this!"

Naka blinked again, trying to process wordy-sound-noises.

Then she shrieked and grabbed the phone from Akatsuki's hand as someone dumped pure alcohol in her boilers!

On the screen of the phone, a video played.

"It's her!" Akatsuki insisted.

Several Abyssals stood in view as the video played. There was no sound.

If there was, Naka was absolutely certain that the phone would not have survived sitting in her hand.

The title of the video read Heavy Metal Seas! Abyssal Rock Idol Princess Attacks.

This was an attack on her! On her fans!

"I need to see the Admiral, now! S-Sendai, contact my agent! There's a war to fight!"

A Certain Little Legion (Recursive Raildex SI) (2024)

References

Top Articles
Latest Posts
Article information

Author: Madonna Wisozk

Last Updated:

Views: 6430

Rating: 4.8 / 5 (48 voted)

Reviews: 95% of readers found this page helpful

Author information

Name: Madonna Wisozk

Birthday: 2001-02-23

Address: 656 Gerhold Summit, Sidneyberg, FL 78179-2512

Phone: +6742282696652

Job: Customer Banking Liaison

Hobby: Flower arranging, Yo-yoing, Tai chi, Rowing, Macrame, Urban exploration, Knife making

Introduction: My name is Madonna Wisozk, I am a attractive, healthy, thoughtful, faithful, open, vivacious, zany person who loves writing and wants to share my knowledge and understanding with you.