Toaru Majutsu no Index

Kamijou Touma woke up in a hospital bed.

He was in the familiar hospital room he was so acquainted with, and it seemed like he had been moved to the 7th District hospital where that frog-faced doctor worked. Maybe it was because he kept getting involved in all sorts of situations, but every time he was sent specifically to this hospital room, Kamijou kept wondering whether he was becoming a bother. It made him feel embarrassed.

"Ah, you're awake?"

The voice belonged to Itsuwa, who was sitting in the visitor's chair. Kamijou wanted to sit up, but his body failed to move as he commanded. It wasn't just because he was severely injured: There was an abnormal sense of fatigue, as he could not call upon any strength at all. It was like his entire body was held down by the fatigue accumulated onto him.

While Kamijou felt bothered by such an uncomfortable feeling, the person beside him felt relieved and relaxed her shoulders before saying, "No, it's normal for you to be so unable to move. You left the hospital on your own when you needed to rest, and you managed to blindside Acqua."

From Itsuwa's words, Kamijou knew Acqua had at least retreated. No matter whether they were civilian or Amakusa, there had been no deaths on either side. However, there was no sense of realism on Kamijou's side.

Truthfully, Kamijou did not remember much after he left the hospital. For some reason he thought he had met Mikoto along the way, but that seemed more like a dream than reality. Speaking of which, Kamijou had intended to hide his memory loss the moment he woke up. Even when he thought things like "I don't remember that" or "What did I forget?", he let it pass with an ambiguous smile.

"... But that... that was amazing! That Acqua guy, he's a member of God's Right Seat and a Saint, and we managed to beat him... what can I say? Isn't this some sort of historic moment or something?"

"Wha-what is the one who contributed the most saying?! And the fact that we beat that guy can be considered an accomplishment too. And we didn't even suffer a single casualty! Isn't this like Santa doing a somersault and dropping presents like he's bleeding..."

For some reason, Itsuwa blushed tremendously as she put her hands on her huge chest. It seemed defeating Acqua was not merely finishing a mission. Since the magic side was not very familiar with Kamijou, it was the only conclusion they could make.

It should be noted the key that dealt the finishing blow was Itsuwa’s Saint Destroyer; however it seemed Itsuwa herself did not realize that fact. Maybe because she was a natural airhead or maybe because she was simply trying to be humble, but that was a crime. From the perspective of Acqua of the Back, it was not something that could be passed off so easily.

"Ah... speaking of which, what’s today’s date? Is... is my attendance alright?! Damn it, it looks like I've got to confirm this quite a bit! Why am I getting involved in all sorts of situations?!”

"Ah... no... you can’t... you can’t get out of the bed now!"

Kamijou tried to sit up, only for Itsuwa to force him back down by pushing down on his shoulders with her hands. The result was that both their faces ended up five centimeters apart. Shocked, Itsuwa’s blushing face showed itself to Kamijou, and Kamijou felt there was a wall of air between them. Even so, the option of pulling away never presented itself to his mind.

At that moment, "Touma’s still Touma."

Looking towards the origin of the voice, they saw Index standing there with a blank look, rooted to the spot. Despite her perfectly calm expression, a broken vase was on the ground next to her.

With a God-given premonition that something very bad was about to happen very soon, Kamijou said nervously, "Ah, wah?! Hold on, Index! I know you can't say anything due to shock! Aren't you completely giving up on this existence called Mr. Kamijou and other humans?!"

"... Up until a few minutes ago, I was the one sitting in this room. It didn't become like this until the moment I left... speaking of which, why haven’t you apologized to me yet for leaving the hospital on your own?"

"Ah... ye-yeah! I agree with that! You ran rushed over to where Acqua was despite your injuries! That was too rash of you! What would have happened if something bad happened to you?!”

"Acqua?! You're talking about Acqua of God's Right Seat, aren't you?! You faced such a powerful foe without asking for my help?! What's going on Touma?!!!"

"Eeeehhhhhh?! Oi, Itsuwa, since when are you on her side?! Is this the Amakusa's strength in switching sides?!”

In the long corridors of the hospital, Kanzaki Kaori stood outside the room where a conversation was underway. She too had come to visit a certain patient, but it seemed she had completely missed her chance to make an entrance (it could be said Itsuwa was a step ahead of her), and now she was flustered about what to do next.

... What should I do? According to the schedule, I have to return to London by tomorrow. This is the only chance I'll have, but who would have thought Itsuwa and 'that child' would be here?

"Nee-chin... if you keep being so indecisive, what little time you have left is going to run out, y’know?"

This sudden voice came from directly behind her, causing Kanzaki to jerk on instinct. Turning around, she saw the speaker was the blond-haired, sunglasses-wearing Tsuchimikado Motoharu.

Tsuchimikado gently raised his hand to the side of his mouth and spoke with a bemused smile, "Finally, after so much effort, you’ve managed to find time in your busy schedule to come to Japan, yet because of Index and that Amakusa girl you're unable to utter even a word of thanks?"

"I-I understand that! But... how do I put it... even considering a private conversation has me extremely embarrassed. With Itsuwa and 'that child' present it’s... I’ll just wait a bit longer..."

"Then that fallen angel costume... did you remember to bring it along?"

"Wh–what? Wh–why would I bring such a thing?! That sort of thing is even harder to get through customs than my Shichiten Shichitou!! And even if I were to go through with such a stupid plan and wear it, it would only be in a 1-on-1 situation! I would never go in looking like that when Itsuwa and 'that child' are present! Don't you understand how terrifying a power the photographic memory of 'that child' is?!"

Such a situation made one terrified just thinking about it.

Kanzaki shook her head vigorously, trying to remove such thoughts from her mind, but it seemed Tsuchimikado anticipated such a response and nodded his head wisely, "For this determined yet shy Nee-chin... hmph!! Today I prepared an improved 'erotic fallen angel costume'!"

"Tell me what part of this costume was 'improved'?!"

"Eh? What are you talking about? Look: The amount of cleavage exposed here, and the transparency of the skirt here, and...”

With all the strength her arms possessed, Kanzaki pinned Tsuchimikado's together, just before he could stretch out the costume to better display it to her. Despite being gripped by the strength of a Saint, Tsuchimikado had a smile on his face.

"Then what is your plan? Nee-chin, you better explain what you’re going to do quickly. Are you going to rely solely on a normal smile and that slightly flushed face of yours to express your thanks? Think this through, foolish Nee-chin! The situation has already progressed to the point that retreat is no longer an option! Don’t think you'll be forgiven for such simple tactics!"

Even though Tsuchimikado was wearing sunglasses, the light in his eyes still shone through. The calm, cool, and collected Kanzaki evaporated before his stare.

Kanzaki took a step back, talking frantically, "Then what do you suggest I do? Even if it means I owe you even more, as long as it’s within my power to do so I shall put all my effort into it!"

"Rubbing while you’re holding it. You should be able to do that right?"

"Ho-hold what?"

"You innocent idiot! Okay, let me ask you this: Nee-chin, what do they exist for? Those characteristics unique to mammals — that is to say, those breasts of yours — what do they exist for? Tell me!"

"A–At the very least, they are not for rubbing and holding objects between them!"

The things Tsuchimikado was trying to tell Kanzaki made no sense to her, and she wore a confused expression. Faced with an innocent Kanzaki who could not understand the true meaning of his words, Tsuchimikado was at a loss.

"But really, Nee-chin, is it okay for you to walk in so carefree?"

"Wha–what?"

"... That girl, if it's that Itsuwa girl, she would have worn the erotic fallen angel costume without a second thought!"

"Th–that sort of outfit?? She wouldn’t dare...!!!"

The two engaged in meaningless whispers.

With a devilish smile on his face, Tsuchimikado said, "How can you be so sure? Itsuwa isn't as mature as you, but as a result she can do such an outrageous thing. Even though that 'wet napkin plan' of hers failed multiple times, you can tell she's putting a lot of effort into winning Kami-yan’s heart. The Itsuwa who failed several times, if she was able to obtain something that would improve on what she is lacking, something that would give her an advantage — that is to say, something like this erotic fallen angel costume... in that instant, I wonder how high her 'attack power' would become?"

"Tha–that's impossible! This sort of situation would never befall someone belonging to my Amakusa!"

"Now that I think about it, holding and rubbing it wouldn’t be a problem for Itsuwa with measurements like hers..."

"As I said before: 'What exactly are we supposed to be holding?!'"

Faced with Kanzaki’s innocence, Tsuchimikado was unable reply, and it was beginning to give him a headache. It seemed a change in tactics was required.

"In the end, I see Nee-chin is that type of person... fleeing because she’s too embarrassed... have you no gratitude at all for Kami-yan?"

"It’s not like that! It’s just that all this talk of 'erotic fallen angel costumes' is going way too far! I just want to use normal methods to thank him!"

"Itsuwa wouldn’t mind though, would she? That's because the gratitude she has towards Kami-yan is stronger than yours. To tell you the truth, even with just the 'normal' fallen angel costume, Itsuwa’s attack level would rise quite a bit. And if she wears the improved 'erotic' fallen angel costume... do you know what this new gap would mean?"

"Wha–what... what would it mean?"

"It means, Nee-chin, you have lost to Itsuwa as a woman."

"Eh?!"

"Sigh, I wonder if the Amakusa are really okay... This woman, she only has high self-esteem; she doesn’t have any idea about the meaning of 'lowering one’s self'. With that type of person, how are they supposed to guide the lost lambs? Nee-chin, could it be that the moment you're faced with a challenge, you think only of yourself and leave everyone else behind?"

"Th–this harsh language, just for an erotic fallen angel costume... is it really necessary to go so far?"

Even though she was certain of her position, Tsuchimikado’s words caused Kanzaki’s heart to begin to falter. She didn’t know if it was because of any feelings she had towards Kamijou but, before long, Kanzaki’s mind was utterly disoriented.

N–No! This is all part of Tsuchimikado’s plan! 'Erotic fallen angel costume'! How could that sort of object be used to judge a woman?! Wait, that isn’t the point! It’s not a question of being a woman, it's what method I should use to express my thanks... but even if I don’t use the erotic fallen angel costume... I cannot think of any other methods at all! Aah! I cannot be so weak! I...! This is Tsuchimikado’s trap! No, but... calm down! I have to calm down so can I think this through!

"Hm? Nee-chin?"

Seeing Kanzaki so absorbed in her own thoughts, Tsuchimikado was a bit worried.

Regardless of whether or not she heard Tsuchimikado, Kanzaki’s multiple facial expressions slowly disappeared, to be replaced by an expression of serenity as Kanzaki sat down in the corridor. With exaggeratedly slow movements, Kanzaki, seemingly from nowhere, took out twenty or so tiles and raised them.

“GNRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

From above the center of the tiles, Kanzaki’s fist came crashing down. It was not a question of whether the tiles were intact anymore, as Kanzaki’s fist was buried in the floor.

As the sound of breaking tiles echoed along the corridor, Kanzaki spoke to Tsuchimikado in an exceedingly cold voice, "It’s alright; I’ve thought it through."

On the other hand, Tsuchimikado, faced with the erratic behavior of the woman before him, could not help but feel a bit uneasy.

Crap, I was only teasing her, but maybe I went a little overboard?

As sweat trickled down Tsuchimikado’s face, Kanzaki slowly straightened out her hand, her fingers straight as a pencil, as if she was about to perform a Karate chop. The overall feeling was as if Kanzaki was preparing to crush Tsuchimikado’s skull with her bare hand.

"Tsuchimikado?"

"Y–Yes?"

"I am prepared. Give it to me."

10 minutes later, after punching the devilishly grinning Tsuchimikado in the face, taking a huge step forward as a woman and leveling up in an entirely different manner than she had intended, the Pontiff of the Amakusa Church, Kanzaki Kaori, stormed into a certain room in the hospital.

Afterwards, to preserve the reputation of the female Pope, it did not matter what happened to the world, even if the world was thrown into chaos. One thing was certain: Kamijou Touma, regarding that third angelic shadow that differed from Misha Kreutzev and Kazakiri Hyouka, would most certainly feel nothing but fear upon seeing it from today onward.

A contact with the Anglican Church.

With several documents in front of them, the war negotiator and his contact were discussing several different options for a surrender plan.

Implicitly, they were selecting the most desired outcomes for themselves. Before he had listened for even half a minute, the Pope cut the communication.

"Curses!"

He was furious. Acqua of the Back's defeat had two major implications: For one, it was a major blow to their fighting strength, and for another the enemy had assumed superior fighting strength for themselves.

How could Acqua have been defeated in the first place?

Kamijou Touma.

The owner of a wholly unique power. It did not seem like he was the direct cause of Acqua's downfall. Many people had spontaneously gathered around him for the sole purpose of protecting him. Simply put, this circle of protective friends was his greatest strength, not Imagine Breaker itself.

"..." The Pope thought quietly. Certainly, that boy was a dangerous opponent.

As he was submersed in thought with a serious expression on his face, the sound of echoing footsteps reached his ears.

"Were you hoping for Acqua’s defeat? That boy has grown fairly well. Well, as a result any end to a just cause for criticism can no longer be concluded. Ha... the great Roman Catholic Church erasing all traces of it stirring up trouble in the world... anyone who was a culprit being swiftly eliminated."

The footsteps reverberated throughout the Basilica di San Pietro[1] in Vatican City. Upon seeing the cause, a mortified expression surfaced on the Pope’s face.

"Fiamma of the Right... don’t tell me... you have come out of the Interior..."

"Such a grim look on your face." The person who spoke to the Pope was but a solitary young man.

Fiamma of the Right regarded the Pope’s dejected face, "A leader’s nature is such that he is able to speak openly in the midst of crisis. Your response has been unsatisfactory in that sense; your caliber as a leader can thus be judged entirely from this."

"What are you going to do?" The Pope cautiously inquired.

Vento of the Front was in the midst of recuperation, Terra of the Left was dead, and it was still unknown whether Acqua of the Back was dead or alive. Should the circumstances require it, given the current decimated state of God’s Right Seat, the Pope would be able to wrest authority from Fiamma in one fell stroke. In the past, Fiamma of the Right had been the annoying existence at the center of God’s Right Seat, to the extent that even amidst the exceedingly powerful figures of God’s Right Seat, final authority rested solely with Fiamma.

The Pope’s tone was dark, "Vento’s surprise attack on Academy City. Terra’s large-scale operation with which he revealed himself to the world. Even Acqua’s crushing power... all have ended in failure. What will you do now? For the cessation of activities by the headquarters of the science side, a plan to crush Academy City is needed."

Certainly, he acknowledged Academy City’s prominence; to that point he depended on the instruction of God’s Right Seat for guidance. That was why, if he was alone, even if he were to involve his followers, he could not muster a siege that was anywhere near enough.

Contrary to the Pope’s expectations, Fiamma's reply was lighthearted, "First, we must bring England to its knees."

What?

Ignoring the Pope’s doubts, Fiamma continued, "Presently, as a result of continuing our key alliance with the Russian Orthodox Church, all of Europe with the exception of England is within our grasp. With the force of many nations behind us, we can starve England into mediocrity. Manpower, materials, finances... the flow and supply of all of them can be cut off. They are the foundation of an island nation. Completely isolated and unable to flee, their power will slowly but surely diminish as the months go by."

The Pope had no comprehension of the intent behind Fiamma’s words, so he gave up trying.

Instead, he asked directly, "I don’t understand the significance of this."

"Doesn't a pipeline run between Academy City and England? Were England to come under attack, it would deal a severe blow to Academy City, I believe. Given what incredible potential as a hostage England possesses, Academy City would become unable to continue the war beneath their infuriatingly calm facade. 'For the sake of helping our ally' becomes the pretext."

"Conversely, if the attack were to fall on Academy City first, England’s actions would be halted. The Anglican Church is one of the three primary denominations of Christianity. The impact of that fact is significant. Going to war against Roman Catholicism and Russian Orthodoxy, the other two of the three great denominations, would be unthinkable. With England’s rise in strength and Academy City - the entirety of the science side - its main ally having been reduced to impotence, England could walk away without a scratch."

"That is not it. That is not it at all, your Holiness," Fiamma interrupted. "Academy City is not my target."

Hearing that, the Pope stopped breathing. He could not seem to fully grasp what Fiamma of the Right was trying to tell him.

Fiamma merely continued on, "'That' is in England. We must acquire 'That' at all costs. Our compatriots there have meekly offered 'That' up to us, I feel. In order to gain possession of 'That', a major uproar is required. The Roman Catholic Church must increase its application of colossal force in its operations."

"What are you saying?"

"Hm? I do not wish to answer that. These actions are not entirely out of line with your wishes: With 'That' in hand, Academy City, and maybe even the whole of the science side, will be utterly shattered."

The Pope, who still had no idea what Fiamma was planning, asked, "What... what is 'That'?"

"Ah..." Fiamma simply opened his mouth. The words he spoke were:

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

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

Gatan!

A sound echoed throughout their surroundings.

It was the sound of the great columns of Basilica di San Pietro colliding into one another at the back of the staggering Pope.

"You fool...," the Pope barely managed to gasp, "Are you really of Christianity?"

Fiamma's reply was casual, "Why ask when you already know?"

"Curse you!"

"It was enough the Bishop of Rome[2] has been my temporary friend and ally. It has been most effective for my purposes."

Fiamma's words were mocking, but the Pope completely ignored them. He had no time to think about Fiamma's tone of voice.

Vento of the Front, Terra of the Left, Acqua of the Back. Each had their own unique thoughts and philosophies. Despite their differences, they continued to act as members of the group known as God's Right Seat. Obtaining the power of the Archangels themselves, becoming La Persona Superiore a Dio, and saving humanity directly. Though exceedingly arrogant at its base and in direct defiance to God, one could understand such thinking when looking at it from a human perspective.

The person in front of him was different.

Fiamma of the Right was decisively different from the other members of God's Right Seat.

He said he wanted to isolate Britain through the combined might of the Roman Catholic Church and Russian Orthodox Church. No matter what anyone said, however, it was obvious Britain would never remain silent. If they were to force Britain into such situation, Britain would most certainly resist with all of its power. Were that to happen, the whole of Europe would become a battlefield. It would no longer be a simple matter of sending one or two people into Academy City -- it would be an all out war.

"You bastard... do you really think I'll allow you to do that?"

He most certainly would not. The Pope had finally realized a war that must never be started was about to begin... but he could still prevent it if he acted now.

"What do you intend to do?" Upon seeing the Pope's face, Fiamma slowly shook his head, "What can you alone do against Fiamma of the Right, leader of God's Right Seat?"

"You no longer have any influence."

"Do you really believe so? Even accepting that God's Right Seat consists solely of people in possession of unique attributes, they are, in the end, merely people. The positions of Front, Left, and Back can be replaced at any time so long as I still live."

"I won't give you the chance to do that." The Pope's tone was dark, "Be silent now, Fiamma of the Right... and perhaps forever."

BOOM!!!

An explosion was heard. It was not that anything special occurred, but that nothing changed. The surrounding space suddenly began to tremble with a strange noise, like being inside a large container and watching the box implode due to an external force.

"All the Apostles, from the First to the Twelve who believe in the same God, Thou shall overflow me with strength, thou shall understand the intent of Man, and thou shall plead for power to crush the enemy."

Numerous lights danced about in the air. They were merely orbs of light, but there seemed to be inverted crosses or seashells inside them which gave a completely different image. These lights of unique significance surrounded Fiamma, and flat surfaces formed between them like patterns on a soccer ball, sealing his body tightly.

At this moment, a whistle could be heard coming from Fiamma, who was completely surrounded. It was his voice.

"So you used the symbol of the Son of God and the Twelve Apostles? Impressive. However, how can the Pope employ the sign of the traitor Judas?"

"Don't be mistaken. It's true Judas betrayed God by betraying His Son, but the one thing which called Judas to be an Apostle was God's mercy, understanding, and love. It's easy to bury someone you hate, but God's true intention is to guide humanity against this impulse."

An explosion resounded through the structure.

A restraining spell created a thirteen-sided object around Fiamma, not only restraining Fiamma's actions physically but also separating his flesh from his soul. He was trapped in a "woundless bind"; nothing more than a hollow existence.

"After Judas' betrayal, he hung himself due to the immense guilt he felt. His feelings were the darkest, coldest, deepest, and most painful ever felt; no matter where he looked, he could see no sign of hope. Remember this is what you're going to experience forever."

Fiamma could hear nothing, but the Pope's mouth was still moving.

"From this moment forth, you shall be bound for forty years. Sample the 'loneliness created by oneself' that Judas experienced, and correct that immature soul of yours."

Inside the thirteen-sided object, standing in stupor, Fiamma's lips give a slight twitch. The sign of final resistance he was making with all his strength.

"Give up. I am the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church. The power I wield now is the Holy power of two billion followers passed down through two thousand years of history. It is not something that can be destroyed by just one person."

In addition to this, the Basilica di San Pietro was the largest and highest stronghold of the old power. Combined with the power of the Vatican, these things could be said to be powerful spiritual items that could increase the Pope's strength.

At that moment Fiamma's voice was heard, "Hmph."

The Pope expression twisted into one of shock. This was not something someone who had been bound by such a spell should be capable of.

Fiamma's voice adopted a light tone, "How pitiful... just two billion followers? Only two thousand years of history?"

The world disappeared. f𝔯𝒆𝚎𝚠𝑒𝚋𝓃૦νℯƖ.co𝘮

The Pope barely managed to see the thing which appeared on Fiamma's right shoulder, alongside a bright light from his eyes, because the very next moment his vision was engulfed by empty whiteness and a violent storm destroyed his surroundings. Like an unstoppable tornado the storm exploded outwards, destroying one-third of St. Peter's Basilica from the inside-out.

The magic arrays supporting the colossal structure were cut off one by one, and the other related facilities protecting Vatican City became damaged one after another. The defensive arrays meant to protect the land were heavily damaged, and the large amounts of magic congregated there lost all sense of purpose, creating chaos and causing the surrounding scene to be distorted.

The Pope's body was sent flying over one-hundred meters away, before finally landing onto the stone floor of the parade.

He stared at the half-destroyed Basilica di San Pietro with a shocked expression. The greatest and most important stronghold in the world; the largest, most grand church of Christianity in the world had been torn apart like it was made of wet paper. The overly pitiful scene he was witnessing caused the Pope to ignore the pain he should have felt from his wounds.

At the center of Armageddon stood Fiamma of the Right, calmly walking towards the plaza. There was a strange thing above his right shoulder. Different from the two arms he possessed as a human, like a wing that hadn't developed properly, it was a huge, malformed hand with four fingers on it, composed of blocks of distorted light. It was told in Greek legend Athena had hacked her way out of the forehead of the King of the Gods, Zeus, and climbed out of the wound. The scene in front of the Pope was similar to that legend: Both were entirely unbelievable.

"How dull. It was destroyed that easily?"

Fiamma looked at his right hand and the thing growing out of his shoulder as if he were checking a car’s engine, and then clicked his tongue in annoyance.

The Pope leaned against a stone fragment, and said with a groan, "That... arm... don’t tell me... that power is..."

"That is correct. You could say my Right Hand has the power to create... miracles."

Fiamma slowly moved through the rubble, "The Son of God used His Right Hand to cure the illnesses of the sick and revive the deceased. It was the Right Hand which drew the Cross and scattered the holy water used for the Baptism of Christ. Furthermore, the Right Hand of The Likeness of God[3] has the distinction of being the greatest weapon in history, having cast down an uncountable number of Fallen Angels; even The One Who Challenged the Light[4] was defeated when opposed by the Right Hand of The Likeness of God. It is such an overwhelming power."

The embodiment of the power of the Right Hand itself. The Holy Right.

The red man who embodied fire continued his explanation to the man said to be the greatest in the Roman Catholic Church, "However, the Holy Right possesses such immeasurable power it is not something a mere human can control. The holy water an ordinary follower scatters or the Cross they draw with their hand... they possess but a mere shadow of the power the legendary acts they are imitating possessed. Nothing more. Even if performed by a Saint or member of God’s Right Seat, all are still of the human body. Understand this, Pope of the Roman Catholic Church: I am still, in the end, merely human. Such a troublesome existence."

The man in possession of power far exceeding any "mere human" could yet look down and call himself human.

Fiamma spoke to the Pope with a bored tone, "To summarize, I possess the 'Miracle of the Right Hand', but am unable to utilize its full potential. Even with such power, its feats are infantile when compared to their originators. Like recording a modern television program with a black and white television set."

The huge hand emitted an unknowable presence as it swayed behind Fiamma. He licked one of his slender fingers and said, "Was this not what you wanted?"

The great cathedral built by humans, the mystic stronghold built piece by piece without pretense, St. Peter’s Basilica had been destroyed by Fiamma of the Right.

"The Right Hand which creates all miracles will destroy all evil. The power of the Right sent the Lord of Devils into Hell and ensured there he would be bound for one-thousand years. If I can completely master the Holy Right... are you not curious as to what is inside it?"

"Don’t tell me..."

If he was referring to what was in the report, the Pope had read it before. The undefined, abnormal power a certain boy from Academy City possessed. The Right Hand that would destroy all miracles it touched. Imagine Breaker.

"If it's me, it can be mastered." Fiamma laughed and moved his right hand horizontal to himself. As if responding to his command, the third arm splitting the air moved as well, mimicking Fiamma's actions. "If it's The Likeness of God, it can be mastered. Preparations are needed, however."

Of course, even if he were to gather all the 'materials', he still would not be able to create the spell needed. What was required to properly control such limitless power far exceeded all human limits and knowledge. The Pope knew of only one treasure trove of knowledge that had gathered every magical book on the planet, a certain crystallization of knowledge.

Fiamma most likely managed to guess from the Pope’s expression the thoughts running through his mind, and his smile became radiant, "The Index. The people of England have prepared such a nice gift for me."

So that was it. That was why he wanted to attack Britain: His aim was not to search for the person herself, but to draw her back to Britain.

"How can I... let you get away?" The Pope stuttered as he tried to continue.

Forcefully moving his bloody body, the Pope finally managed to stand up. If he followed the instructions of God’s Right Seat, became one of their members, and headed on towards La Persona Superiore a Dio, then maybe he could save even more followers. The Pope did not want to head towards such an existence for his own power and standing; he did not want to use innocent sheep as stepping stones to become Pope.

The Pope stood up. Behind him were the fates of two billion followers.

"I really am delighted." Holding his right hand out horizontally, Fiamma laughed, "Even though it is a complete victory on my part, your overwhelming stupidity has made this so enjoyable."

The next moment, an explosion rang out. The interaction between them could not be considered a "clash" by any stretch of the imagination.

Almost instantly, the Pope was smothered with a force so overwhelming his body was once again sent flying. The plaza of the Basilica di San Pietro was so severely damaged only rubble remained, the aftershocks of the explosion having caused all the surrounding structures to collapse. The already heavily-damaged structure of Basilica di San Pietro had incurred even more damage. A part of the perimeter wall separating the city-state of Vatican City from the city of Rome crumbled, and the Pope was blown completely out of sight.

After such a commotion, the Vatican soldiers who firmly believed "such a Holy place would never be threatened" hastily rushed over. At first they stared blankly at Fiamma, likely not believing any human could be capable of causing such devastation. A few of them, finally regaining their senses and remembering their sworn duty, charged forward, but the next moment they became pieces of flesh dancing about in the air. With that, the victor was determined.

"Hm?"

Staring at the other side of the thoroughly destroyed wall of Vatican City, Fiamma realized: The damage was too minimal. The shock wave he emitted should have leveled several hundred meters of Roman streets outside Vatican City to rubble, but only the interior of Vatican City was damaged; everything outside it was completely unharmed.

"So you drew the entirety of my attack upon yourself? Such an impressive bastard." Fiamma snorted and turned to face the Basilica di San Pietro, which had collapsed almost completely. He had no concern about the lowly soldiers: Even the Cardinal Bishops and other higher ups would not dare to oppose him now.

Fiamma of the Right had no intention of hiding the commotion, having caused the surroundings to look like one large disaster zone resulting from a terrorist attack.

The thoroughly bloodied Pope lay outside Vatican City.

He could hear the siren of an ambulance.

At first he thought someone had been killed somewhere nearby, but upon second look he realized the ambulance was heading towards him.

Even if he were to look around, there were no collapsed houses. Even though the flying debris had shattered the glass windows, there did not seem to be any casualties. Just as the Pope was about to smile he realized, inside a small alley between the houses, a dirty-looking girl was looking at him.

It's dangerous here. Even though he wanted to say this, he could not manage to say it properly.

Maybe it was because his consciousness was wavering, but the girl seemed to be shouting something at the Pope. She was not holding any bandages or antiseptics or the like, but the Pope, who did not like to overly rely on the power of Science, was grateful for this girl’s actions. He was rather grateful to be able to receive even such small goodwill after bearing such a great malice.

He heard a new voice, "Wow, that was quite a ruckus."

The Pope lifted his head up, to see a female clothed completely in yellow.

Vento of the Front.

"The Pope who had his honor wounded just to save the lost sheep, and that little thought just now, does he still hate to be voted by the people? The Pope who won through election."

"... England."

His presence was fading, but the Pope still tried to open his mouth.

As he continued vomiting blobs of blood, he said, "Fiamma’s target is England’s..."

"Don’t use such a commanding tone on me." Vento stuck her tongue out and easily cut through his words, "But since everyone’s goal is to kill that bastard, I’ll just close one eye."

At that moment, Vento purposely paused.

It was the dirty-looking girl. Currently, she was glaring at Vento with blatant hatred.

"Nice hostility you have there." Vento snarled, "Your luck is rather good: If I had my original weapon, you would have died here."

The siren of the ambulance was closing in. Vento said nothing more, and disappeared into an alley between the houses.

London, Little Venice.

The one with the highest authority within the Anglican Church, Archbishop Laura Stuart, was lying on a boat floating on an artificial sluice formed by numerous canals. From the name Venice, one could rather easily discern it was based on the city of water. However, there were some differences. This was largely because the surrounding scenery was different from Venice, and it was not a floating city. Just a pier with three canals gathered at it.

Venice had an artificial, magical effect that allowed for heavier use of the terrain and it was fully duplicated here, but very few people knew about it.

"It would be great if it were a rowboat..." Laura looked rather bored as she said this, and peeked towards the back of the boat. Even though there was a man who looks like a gondolier, a miniature engine was attached to the rear of the boat.

"Report." The boatman brought up a topic related to work.

I finally manage to leave St. George Cathedral, and this boatman doesn’t know the mood and wants to talk about work, Laura curled her lips unhappily.

"There seems to be in-fighting within the Roman Catholic Church, and the Pope himself has became involved as well. It’s unknown whether he’s alive or dead. We have confirmed that he was sent to the hospital, but we can’t make hasty conclusions."

"..."

The boatman began to hypothesize based on the insider reports from Rome and the magical flow, collating them together to explain this 'inside war' further.

"From the vast amount of magic detected, the damage should have been dozens of times -- no even more than that, but... please give me a moment to calculate this. I might have made a mistake."

"Even if you do your calculations again, it won’t change. There was an ordinary street behind where they found the Pope, yes? If so, it's extremely obvious what happened."

Laying down on the boat, Laura flipped her body around to a position where she was unable to see the boatman. While doing this, she muttered, "...Such a kind man."

The significance and thoughts that statement held, the boatman was unable to tell. Laura Stuart’s outer appearance belied her true age. The way in which she experienced things were quite different from the way ordinary people experienced. Because of that, the boatman was unable to understand Laura Stuart's method of thinking.

"... then, you must be smiling right now you foolish, kind man."

In the end, the boatman could only guess based on what he saw.

There was a tinge of loneliness in Laura Stuart’s voice.

In a certain corner of Academy City, there existed a windowless building.

It was of such hardness not even a nuclear weapon initiated at point-blank range could destroy it. All of this had been prepared for merely one "human".

The General Director of Academy City, Aleister Crowley.

The "human" floating upside down in the huge glass container revealed a smile.

He was looking at a rectangular screen directly shown in the air. The sources of information were coming from the Underline, a unique network of nanomachines scattered throughout Academy City.

The screen that normally displayed information now showed only gray mosaics, because the giant explosion caused by Acqua of the Back had forced the Underline network to collapse within an hour. Even if they were to create the nanomachines with the most advanced nanotechnology, the motherboard length was only about seventy nanometers. It was only natural they would be destroyed by a large enough storm or impact.

Interference within one area would quickly spread throughout the entire network, burdening the system into a crash. It would take a few hours to repair it, and to Aleister, such a wait should be like having his hand cut off. The only emotion he showed was a calm smile.

"As expected, I need to think of a way to settle that problem..."

However, he looked delighted, for he just remembered something he had to do.

The machines surrounding Aleister analyzed the information collected before the Underline had been disabled, filtering the useful information from the useless. The gray screen began to regain color, and immediately displayed itself as a report.

The contents of the report were an analysis of the power possessed by the right hand of a certain boy.

Chemical formulas of every variety jumped about the screen, from the brain processing capability calculated from the amount of oxygen taken in and the amount of carbon dioxide given out, to the power of his right hand calculated from the AIM diffusion field scattered throughout Academy City.

In and out, this was a world filled with science.

Aleister used his eyes to track the words scrolling down the screen, and his smile became even deeper.

An Adult, and yet a Child; a Man, and yet a Woman; a Saint, and yet a Sinner. In front of the 'human' who possessed all of these attributes, the report was as follows:

—The reference point for the denial of illogical phenomena (Point Central 0) remains at stability level 3.

—Regulated rotation speed of the core continuing to idle at the center confirmed.

—Sample name "Imagine Breaker" at 98% plan influence level.

—Along with Academy City's #1, it is properly operating as a linchpin to the main plan.  

Notes

1. ↑ St. Peter's Basilica

2. ↑ The Pope

3. ↑ Archangel Michael

4. ↑ Lucifer