Battle Vixens! - 104

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Episode 104: Doubt/Trauma

Marcus sat in the passenger seat, staring down at his key—his hat, which sat atop his lap. Clark glanced over at him a few times, and each time found him in this same posture. "I really don't think you need to worry," Dr. Quinn said after about the fifth such glance.

"Huh?" His passenger snapped upright in his seat. "Oh uh..nah. I'm just, trying not to fall asleep, heheh. I guess I'm, curious what it is they wanna check out about the hat, but like..this whole thing was supposed to be so they could figure out how this stuff works in the first place, so I'm stoked to help."
"You certainly haven't noticed anything unusual or 'wrong' with it yourself, have you?"
"Yeah, nah."
"Well—if you're exhausted, maybe you should just nod off," Clark suggested. "You mind if I put on some music? Any particular distastes?"

"Oh, not at all, man. You do you." Marcus leaned back in his seat, shutting his eyes.
"I'd expect a music student to be pickier," Dr. Quinn remarked, but turned on the radio anyway.

"Guess I used to be, but..." he paused, interrupting himself with a yawn. "I've been learning to appreciate all kinds of stuff."

---

After calling Dr. Quinn, Rowan headed straight for the cafeteria. Sam always had lunch at the same time, unless something urgent interrupted her—and then it was as immediately after the interruption as possible. He found her and sat down across from her.

"Corporal Langdon."
She looked up from her plate for a second. "Just 'Sam' is fine."
"...Have you...turned human, since coming here?"
The metallic fox-girl shrugged. "Few times, sure. Not too often. Pretty big place here, so havin' both my legs back is real helpful to gettin' 'round. You got orders for me?"

"Orders...I suppose so." He hadn't said anything to indicate his visit was more than casual yet, but maybe sitting down to talk implied as much. "Simon's wife was mortally wounded by our target before we could stop it. She was able to use a previously undisclosed empowered form to put that body in 'stasis'. I asked Dr. Quinn if he could come our way to get her human form out of danger, but that would leave them short-handed. So I offered to send you over."

Sam tilted her head slightly from about halfway through this explanation until the end. "You do realize, all you have to say is 'go there, do that'. Nothin' more. I respect the chain of command 'round here."

Rowan shrugged. "I know that, but I'm used to treating people more like equals. So it still feels awkward to me to promise you'll do something without talking to you about it first. You don't..have any objections you'd voice in absence of a 'chain of command'?"

"None whatsoever. I trust you'll put me where I'm needed most. Anyhow, as an aside, I look forward to working with Miss Nelson again. We made a fine team last time."

Rowan started to get up, then paused. "You trust me particularly?"
She nodded.
"Just out of curiosity, any specific reasons?"

"I'm a military man. The military works for the government, the government trusts the VI with our present crisis, and the VI trusts you. That's all I need."
"..Excuse me if I'm being vain, but is that all there is?"
She looked up from her food to give another slight head-tilt. "'Course not. I've seen your work since before my existence was declassified. You took a buncha desperate survivors fightin' those things in little groups throughout the city and made 'em a unit. They call you 'boss' 'cause you're the one who made 'em a team. And you motivate folks to not just fight, but train and be ready. And I ain't privy to a whole lot of it, but if I understand correctly you've been integral to doin' the same for the rest of the world: Convincin' 'sister organizations' to work together with the VI rather than ignoring each other or worse."

"I've made a number of extremely consequential mistakes," Rowan said.
"No plan survives contact with the enemy," Sam retorted. "I'll be ready to move out soon." She turned back to her food, apparently feeling the conversation had reached its conclusion. So he got up and headed for his next destination.

---

Marcus was, fortunately, not much of a snorer. The car was quiet apart from the music, leaving Clark to his thoughts. About halfway to the city, he woke with a start, looking around in a brief fit of confusion before remembering where he was and why.

"Morning," Dr. Quinn said mildly.

"Oh, uh..is it still morning? I just realized how hungry I am, dude..."
"As far as I understand, eating something after a fight is always helpful to our recovery. I think the VI has a cafeteria, if you can wait that long."
"Uh—yeah, sure. I don't wanna slow us down or anything. You know, in case uh—Petra's wife needs help sooner, or like, the monsters show up right when we get there..." He shook his head, then rubbed his eyes for a moment.

"Maan, this is still pretty surreal to me."

"I'm much more used to this new situation the world's in than I think I should be," Clark said, nodding.

"Uh, sure, but I mean like—even after that. Getting to fight alongside you guys. I mean—pretty much since this whole mess started, you've been my heroes. Light and Ning, and Gemma, and you and uh, Rory," (he said this a little hesitantly, unused to using her first name), "and Rowan and their whole team. I'd say everyone, but you know, not jerks like the Puppeteer or that crazy chick in Mexico."

"I would say I'm not used to being thought of as a hero," Clark admitted, shaking his head. "I suppose I can't disagree that, on an objective level, I'm doing things people call 'heroic'...but I don't know. I'm really only doing what I can."

"Hahah...yeah, man. It's—I guess it's kinda weird, in a way, realizing you guys are all just normal people too, with your own problems and stuff. I mean—in hindsight it's like 'duh', but..."

"Hey," he looked over, "who were your heroes?"
Dr. Quinn thought about this question for a moment before answering. "Oh, you know, the usual—at least for a physicist anyway. Feynman, Newton, Einstein...once I'd decided on this career path, there were plenty of, more or less canonical examples to look up to and try to imitate the successes of."
"Huh. No offense, but like—all science guys? Nobody who took out a bad guy or saved millions of lives? Or not even, like, Loius Pasteur or somethin'?"

"Well—I wouldn't disagree about someone like that being heroic. It's just, when you say 'my hero,' that isn't the sort of thing that first springs to mind. I take it more to mean 'someone I could realistically dream of emulating', and for me—at least until very recently—that pretty well cuts out anyone in the medical field..or combat or other forms of life-saving, for that matter. As much as I'd like to be saving lives, it didn't really seem plausible for me to go into medicine."

"Dude, really? You got a P-H-D anyway, though. You've gotta be way smart enough."

"...Maybe, but that isn't the problem. Truth is, I'm squeamish about blood and...other bodily internals. My wife says you get over that sort of thing after just a little exposure, but...well, let's just say her efforts at providing me said exposure didn't go over very well."

"But...you heal people all the time, now."
"Yes, but—magically repairing someone's injuries is vastly different from putting someone under the knife. And anyway, my powers come packaged with a sense of calm that completely overcomes the issue."

"...Yeah," Marcus nodded. "Light and Gemma said something about that too—like, how you guys are more resistant to psycholaugical trauma or whatever?"
"I suppose that's true, but..." He shook his head. "There is an upper limit to that 'resistance'."
"Hahah...I'd still take it over nothing at all, though, if you gimme a choice. I mean if, uh..." Marcus glanced over at his shoulder. "If I don't distract myself enough, I can still kinda see that thing charging at me, and I gotta look at my shoulder just to make sure it's not about to get stung again..."

Clark nodded. "Give it time. Maybe it'll never go fully away, but...let yourself process it, and it should at least fade."

"Cool, cool...but uh, can we talk about literally anything else right now?"
"Certainly. Let's see, ah...do you play any video games?"
Marcus grinned wide, leaning foward a bit. "Duude, do I?"

---

Dawn groaned, squirmed in place for a moment, and then opened her eyes, moving her head just enough to look around. She was lying in bed in her room, and Cynthia was sitting next to the bed. "Dawn!" the redhead leaned in.
"Nngh...hey." Her voice was a little hoarse from all the screaming, but still serviceable.
"Are you okay? I mean uh..how, how are you feeling?"
"...Like total garbage." She exhaled a sigh. "Tired. Sore. Still...angry."
"Y-yeah, you, messed that thing up pretty bad. I guess it must've really...I mean, I can't even imagine. If I had to see one of those things...do something like that to you.."
"Nn...not at them, really."
"Huh?"

Dawn stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then turned her head to face her again. "...I remembered somethin'. Somethin' we agreed not to tell each other about."
Cynthia folded her ears down. "..Oh."

"I know what I done. I know how bad it was. But right now...I don't feel. I can't feel like it was wrong. I'd wanna do it all over again, if I could."

"Dawn..." It didn't sound like she was sure what to say. But she certainly didn't seem like she wanted to know the truth just yet.

Both of them paused after this, right in the middle of the silence, hearing footsteps approaching, and then a quick knock on the door. "Uh, you can come in," Cynthia said, sitting up and facing the door. "It's unlocked."
"..Thank you." Rowan opened the door.

"What do you want?" The redhead demanded, her outrage sounding not entirely sincere.
"While I had a moment, I was hoping to check on Dawn. You're awake?"
"Yep."
He nodded. "I'm glad.

"...I said this before, but..you weren't exactly conscious at the time. I'm sorry. It was my mistake that led to you fighting that particular enemy. A stupid oversight that could've been avoided if I'd paid only a little more attention. It...must have been traumatic."
Dawn exhaled through her nose, and pushed herself up onto an elbow to face him, ignoring the objection of every sore muscle involved. "Nah, it's good. Maybe I needed that kick in the teeth. 'S like I been numb for days, and now I feel pain, but it's better than the nothin' I was feelin'. Helped me remember some things. Like how I got here in the first place. What I did before."

Rowan nodded slowly—knowingly. But said, "There were better ways for you to remember that than being put into mortal danger."

"Aah, maybe. Hey, you still think it was wrong?"

"That...depends what you're asking about," he said carefully. "Having seen the relevant footage for myself, calling Miss Hargrove's death a murder on your part feels extreme. She was practically already dead, like you said before."

"Yeah, I mean the other thing."
He looked between them. "Do you want me to talk about that?"

Dawn paused, looking at Cynthia. She still didn't look ready. "..Nah. Never mind, I'll ask ya later."
"If you want," he said, nodding again. "You should get some rest. Food, if you can take it."

"Yeah..sure." Dawn leaned back onto the pillow.
"Hey, I can still fight," Cynthia said. "This afternoon, or whatever." Dawn looked over at her. "Hey, I'll be careful! You ain't gotta guard me all the time."
"...Yeah. Keep her safe for me?" she said to Rowan.

"We'll all do our best to protect each other," he said.

"Mmh. Good enough." Dawn was too tired to raise any real objection.

"I'd better go. Hey, getting some food and rest goes for both of you."
"Uh, sure," the redhead nodded.

---

After a fairly disjointed, excited discussion on the mechanics of certain action RPGs, the conversation in the car died down a bit. Marcus did what a lot of young people do in lulls of conversation and got out his phone.

"Oh, hey—you know the Giver's got a twitter?"
"I am acquainted with that fact," Clark said.
"Yeah, but like—not just the early-warning DM's. She's actually answering people's questions! Uh, sometimes. She pretty much either answers so instantly there's no way she had time to type everything, or not at all. Like..."

He thumbed through some replies. "Oh, yeah, someone asked her, 'if I—hypothetically of course—nuked the VI base, would I get everyone's powers'? And she's like 'No, too indirect'. So some other people jumped on with a bunch of other stuff like, 'what about a mine? Poison? Sniper rifle?' Uh..eventually she just said," (he cleared his throat and put on a faux-austere accent) 'It must be possible for her to look you in the eye and fight back, or at least have a reasonable probability that she survives and can avenge herself upon you.' So uh, I guess guns are okay but missiles aren't, basically."

Clark shook his head. "All purely hypothetical, of course."

"Well uh—I mean I hope so? Guess I don't gotta worry about someone taking my powers and using them for evil or whatever, at least."

"Anyone who thinks you're a 'normal' vixen could still try," he pointed out.
"Oof, yeah. I guess I hadn't thought'a that."

"Anything else besides rule clarifications?"

"Uhh, let's see..hey, yeah! 'How are you replying to everyone so fast?' And she said, 'Magic'. Hahah...I guess, that's, fair?"
"Is she still bound to tell us the truth through twitter, or is that only with verbal communication?"
"Awh, yeah, someone must've asked her that, right?" Marcus scrolled around for a moment, and didn't find any such question. "Uh..right?"
"Perhaps it isn't that common of knowledge that she 'always tells the truth'," Clark realized. "She let Light know as much, but at no point have we or the VI actually dissemenated that information..."

"Hmm. Is it uh—bad if everyone knew that?"
"I don't know how it would be, but it's hard to know what exactly she's told every single person she's spoken to."
"Huh, yeah. I was thinking I could ask something that'd give her a chance to like, say she has a rule where she won't lie to anyone, buuut..."
"Someone is bound to give her that opportunity anyway, even if by accident."

"True, but..yeah, I don't wanna be the one to spill those beans either way."

---

Dr. Bridges knocked on the door of Rowan's office. After a moment, not the office's owner but Simon opened up. "Ah, hello there. Rowan's out at the moment, doing the rounds no doubt."
"That's fine. I'm only here to deliver this," he said, producing Karis's half-mask.
"You guys already out of experiments to run on it?" Karis said, coming up behind her husband.
"Not...necessarily, but it is yours, and will be needed soon, as I understand it," he said, offering it to Simon. "If you're willing, there are a few questions I'd like to ask you, for the purposes of our research."

They looked between each other, and Karis shrugged. "Uh, sure I guess? What about?" She stepped back, and Simon opened the door more fully, letting the researcher in.
"We want as good a grasp as possible of how an individual's knowledge, beliefs, expectations and desires affect the resulting powerset. So—primarily your state of mind at the time the mask was initially used as a key, and your own explanation of how your powers work."
"I guess that makes sense..."

The three of them were inside now, so Ezekiel quietly shut the door behind him. "Well, obviously, I was kinda mortally wounded at the time, and technically still am," she said, crossing her arms. "So I was thinking it'd be really nice if I could, y'know, not get hurt? Or at least heal myself up if I needed to. Be nice if I was invincible like mister rock here," she said, gently punching Simon's arm.
"Hey, you're thinking of Sam with that," he said.
"And, is your present body more resilient to damage than your human one?"
"Uh, y'know, I haven't really checked. I went out of my way to stay far from danger in that recent fight, seeing how I already used up an extra life."

He nodded. "Understandable. There are some relatively safe tests for that you could conduct for us later, if willing. Have you noticed any other extraordinary attributes to your present form—enhanced strength, agility, anything like that?"
"You know, not particularly, but again I haven't tested it out..."

Karis went over to one of the chairs, and carefully lifted it into the air with one hand. "Okay, definitely stronger," she said, setting it down again. "Not that I couldn't do that before, but it doesn't feel as heavy as it looks, if that makes any sense."
Dr. Bridges nodded. "Now, how would you describe what you know of your powers, as of yet?"
"Well—" Remedy appeared next to her in a brief blur. "—I got a Stand. She can move around and fight independently of me, I give her like 'mental orders' and she tries her best to follow them. And she has a sweet robot arm and can heal people with it, and if she gets hurt I can just put her away and get her back out." Remedy 'flexed' the robot arm in question, then disappeared and reappeared at the last part of this explanation.

"Wait, is that a robot arm?" Simon grabbed the summoned girl's wrist to feel of it. "I thought it was a gauntlet of some sort. How does it attach?"
"Time and a place, dear," Karis said; Remedy gently but firmly pulled herself out of his grasp.

"You said a 'Stand'," Ezekiel said.
"Yeess. Man, does nobody watch good anime but me?"

"I thought that was what you were referring to, actually, but—just for the sake of clarity, what exactly do you consder the word to mean?"

"Uh, you know, she's like a—manifestation of my spiritual energy and will to fight and stuff. Like, an extension of my will and personality that I can use to fight. And, I guess, heal people."

He nodded. "More to the point, is this how you would've pictured magic, or supernatural powers in general, working—before we had superpowered vixens in the world?"
"Well, I guess it's one of the ways," she shrugged. "I'm familiar with a lot of different magic systems."

"Was this particular one on your mind recently, then?"
"Yeah, I mean, I was binge-watching Jojo just yesterday—waaiit.

"Are you saying, that just because I've been thinking about this kind of 'magic' or whatever recently, I wound up with it?"
"It's..a possibility," he said. "We only have three data points so far—and before you ask, the other two are classified."
"Sure, sure. But like, does that mean you could convince someone that magic should work a certain way, then stick a mask on 'em and their magic will work that way?"

"We believe it's much more complicated than that," Ezekiel said. "Each person has a particular level of 'potential' in the first place. If we attempted to 'prime' someone to have the power to summon miniature suns, but they lacked the power to magically produce fusion reactions on demand—which is probably an extremely large amount of power—they may be unable to do more than summon small points of light. Besides, what a person wants plays a factor as well, and there are likely many other limitations. For instance, aren't Stands supposed to be intangible and invisible?"
"..Huh, yeah!" She turned to Remedy. "Hey, why aren't you a ghost?" The white-haired girl shrugged and made a soft "Aah" sound from her mouth.

"Did you 'tell' her to do that?"
"Oh, uh, yeah—as far as I can tell, she doesn't have a will of her own or anything, which is pretty Stand-like. It felt natural to have her do that, though, in a way," Karis shrugged.

"Now that I think of it, though...when I was lying there covered in rubble, I definitely regretted putting myself at risk just to check if there was anyone who hadn't evacuated yet. But—not to the point that I wish it'd been someone else. Just, I was thinking how nice it would be if I could've checked without putting anyone in danger—send someone invincible, maybe. I guess my power level isn't high enough to support 'total invulnerability' though, so being able to re-summon Remedy if she gets hurt is the next best thing."

Ezekiel nodded, thinking. "That may be exactly what it is, then. My impression is that—no matter whether one's powers are 'natural' or 'artificial'—no one understands them better than the owner herself. This is why a personal interview is the best for making sense of these things."

"Cool. So, any other questions come to mind for now?"
"..Not for the moment. If you don't mind keeping up communication, we could send you any follow-up questions we come up with later."
"Don't mind at all," Karis nodded.

Dr. Bridges said, "Thank you. I should be going now, but please give Rowan my regards."

After the researcher left, Simon turned toward Remedy again. "So is that a robotic arm or not? Where's it start? What does it look like under the sleeve there?"
"Pfft. You could at least take a girl out to eat before asking her to strip!"
"What, so you want me to date your Stand instead of you now?"
"No, get your own Stand and we can double date."

"Do the stone fists count?"

The white-haired girl crossed her arms and shook her head. "Remedy does not want to date a pair of giant fists!"

Aetuornos Beta 2-8

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2-8: Clandestine Ignition

Everyone's doors led them into hallways seemingly identical to the ones they had used to enter their trials, but the door on the opposite side came out into a particularly large, circular room with a circular vaulted ceiling. They came out of three doors adjacent to each other: The demon-girls on the left, Jack and Noire in the center, and the healers on the right. Once they were through the doorways, the doors themselves seemed to instantly vanish, leaving the three doorframes occupied with only walls. There were four more walls-in-doorframes, two on either side of the three they had entered, and the rest of the room had a number of doors with placards similar to the ones which had been used to label their trials.

"Looks like we all made it!" Noire said, turning toward the others.

"No instant teleport," Thora mumbled, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Is anyone hurt?" Grigori asked, looking to the other four.
"Nope!" Fiori answered, half-over Jack's "Nu-uh."

"Our trial was pretty weird though," the necromancer continued. "We had to like, press this button combination quick enough—which is a fine puzzle I guess—but like it also couldn't be too quick?"
"My guess is, that they were all secretly connected," Noire said. "Did you hear a chime whenever you pressed a correct button? Some shattering from below, perhaps?"
"Chime, yes," Thora said. "Shattering, no."
"Well, I could hear a chime and shattering up above me," Grigori said. "Two chimes made a suit of armor come to life and attack us. Then Zef had to platform up to a big magic circle on the ceiling to turn it off again."

"Surely you all spoke during your trials," Noire said, "yet I never heard a word. Perhaps some manner of selective silencing charms so we couldn't cheese the trials by actually communicating."
"Hmph. Any normal MMO would have text chat or, like, you could IM with another program," Jack said. "I guess that's kinda the point, huh?"
"Perhaps," the rogue said, stepping toward the center of the room. "We can discuss more details about our experiences with those trials later, I believe. For the moment, we must select our reward." She swept a hand around at the doors, each labeled Artifact of and then a word or brief phrase.

"How's this supposed to work, anyway?" Jack said. "Just one reward, for six people?"
"I mean like..maybe there's some normal treasure chests to go with the artifact or something?" the necromancer suggested.

"Well, I already received a significant reward from this excursion," Noire said, taking out a knife to toss in the air and catch. "Fiori can't use any other weapons but her scythe, Zef can hardly use equipment at all."

"Ehh—hang on," Grigori said. "If that thing with the map is anything to go by, exact words are important with these 'wizard types', yeah? Mondelain said 'you will all be taken to the top floor, select an artifact, and face its guardian'. That doesn't mean we have to select one artifact for all of us, it just means that whoever goes after a particular artifact has to face its guardian."

"So, we can have six artifacts—one per person—if we each fight our own boss," Thora said. "But that sounds like a great way to get us all killed."

"You ought to be satisfied with two or three," Zef said. "Splitting into two groups of three would be best, as each group would still have a healer."

"Weell, I don't use much equipment either," the druid said. "I'm all about the were-bear stuff, and plant and regen magic. So, either Jack and Thora each get artifacts, or maybe Fiori too?"

"I'm happy with the adventure~," the necromancer said. "And maaaybe the guardian's soul, if I can take it."
"Well, that settles that, then," he nodded. "What's the best three-three split? And you two decide what you actually want."

Jack shrugged; Thora nodded; and the two of them went to start reading the placards for artifact descriptions. "As you said," Noire said, "they should each get a healer. Thora's..more prone to taking a lot of damage at once, so Zef may be best to go with her, and you with Jack. Then: Zef is an agile, low-range fighter with bladed weapons, which also fits my description somewhat, so I can also join you two."
"I'd, kinda like to stick with Thora anyway," Fiori admitted.
"Then that arrangement seems agreeable to everyone," the catgirl said.

"Hey, uh—what if we're wrong about this, and we really only get one, for all of us?" Thora said.

"Then I suppose that'll be made obvious once we open our first door," Noire replied. "Something will likely prevent us from opening or entering another in that case."
"Yeah..makes sense. Well, then Jack should open his first, I think. I mean, you're the one with a kidnapped sister and all.."
"Pffsh. She's probably off doing somethin' else by now," he said.

---

"Now, tell me—have you ever heard of the Secret Fire?" The witch pronounced this name as if it should be capitalized.

"Uh.." What, like in Lord of the Rings? "..No," Ronin said. Not in this setting, at least.

"Some would say that's good," she said. "It is meant to be Secret, after all. Passed down to only the most skilled and pure of mages, who have proven their worth through heroism, meaningful discoveries, or other such feats. But—no more, I say! The world needs that fire in more hands, and sooner rather than later. Sooo....

"Y'know this?" she said, sweeping a hand up and causing some purple flame to appear spinning around it. "This is the Secret Fire. Or rather, it is my Secret Fire. It's not so much a spell, as something which becomes a part of the mage it spreads to, and every spell she casts, every enchantment she makes...so on, so forth. And it's much more than just some visual flair. Every person's fire comes in a particular color, and each color means something different—different effects, advantages, weaknesses...et-cetera. Purple Fire is useful for 'empowering' and 'enslaving', as you saw me do with those big birds earlier."

"So..you want to give me that?" he said. "That's your offer?"
"You are a sharp one!" she said, and cackled again. "Indeed. Any who possess the Secret Fire, also possess the means to spread it to a willing participant. There are limitations, however; it cannot inhabit anyone dedicated to one or more of the gods, for they abhor it; and it requires a sufficiently pure mage. Nobody who, say, swings around a bladed melee weapon all the time—for instance."

He gave her a skeptical look. "Didn't you say that gigantic scythe you were riding around on was your 'real weapon'?"

"Hmn? Ohh, this thing?" she said, summoning it into her left hand in a burst of purple flame. "This is no scythe. I mean—have you seen me reap anything with it? Noo no no, this is just a very long staff with a sharp, bladed decoration at the end....both ends. Staffs, rods, and the like are just fine." Then she dismissed it again.

"Well..what's the catch, then?" Ronin asked. "Is it gonna burn me up later in life, or something?"
"Ohoh, nothing like that!" she said. "It's just that—you remember the army of demons and monsters, yes?"
"Yes."
"Well, anyone who possesses the Fire will have something of a target on their back from their leaders. The Demon Queen—who's in charge of the whole mess of them—will seek to snuff out the Secret Fire as quickly as she possibly can. That is why it must be spread," she said.

"..If they want to get rid of it, then..is it useful against them?"

"Oh, absolutely!" she nodded excitedly. "Indeed, it may very well be the only thing capable of realistically slaying the Demon Queen herself!"

"Well..in that case, I guess I need to take it. We won't be very good heroes if we can't beat the final boss," he said.
"Heeheehee! That's the spirit!" She said. "Now..for me to spread it to you, is terribly simple." She produced one of Noire's daggers in her left hand, seemingly out of nowhere (or, possibly, out of her inventory). "I just need to draw a little bit of blood, say a certain thing, and you answer yes. Got it?"
"So.." He crossed his arms. "You don't need that giant magic circle for it, then?"
"Oh, this?" she looked down. "Nope! That's for other stuff. I just thought it'd be dramatic to have it around and go stand next to it. Well—I may actually use it to get you to your friends a bit faster once we're done. But first.." she came up close to him. "Just put out your dominant arm for me; this won't hurt...much."

Ronin put his right arm out, and she gently put her free hand under his wrist, pricking a finger with the tip of the weapon in her other. Then she let go of the knife and put her hand over the slightly-bleeding one, engulfing them both in a heatless purple flame. Looking up, he could see that her body was also wreathed in a glow of the same color, particularly her eyes. And she incanted: "The Fire was kindled as the world began. The Fire shall consume the world at its end. In the time between, it must through mages spread. Will you take it in?"
"...Yes." If this was the real world, he might have actually thought about it a bit more.

"Then.." She put her other hand on top of his too, grinning viciously. "Let it burn!" This part didn't seem to actually be part of the incantation, but it was well-timed for the resulting effect anyway.

The bright purple flame raced up his arm and across the rest of his body, covering him for a second or two before slowly changing color, paling and darkening to a deep shade of gray. This color settled into place everywhere except for where her hands were around his; here, her own purple flame surrounded what gray fire was around that hand until she let go and all of the flames faded from view. Yet, even after they did, Ronin had the curious sense that he could 'feel' the Fire inside him, still, and now knew exactly what to do to spread it to someone else.

"..Phew! It does take a bit outta ya to do it," she said, taking out another vial of potion and chugging it, wiping her mouth on a glove before continuing. "Now, don't worry about that 'world destruction' stuff, it's just some silly superstition."
He raised an eyebrow. "..Why is it part of the incantation, then? Doesn't that mean it's literally baked into its nature?"
"Well, sure, but—the world'll get destroyed at some point anyway," she said, shrugging. "That doesn't mean the Fire's responsible for it, just that it cleans up the mess afterward. At least, like, if it's still around—which it should be!

"Anyway, I must say I'm slightly disappointed. Your color isn't quite what I hoped I'd get," she said.
"What did you expect?"

"White, rather than gray," she replied. "But I still think giving it to you was the right choice. You're definitely young and 'foolish' enough to spread it to some more mages, aren't you?" she said with a wink. "But no, seriously—someone with a white Fire will be way better equipped to fight the Demon Queen effectively. That means an extra big target on whoever gets it, which is a warning you should probably pass on to whoever you spread it to."

"Well—what's a gray Fire do, then?"
"Hmmn.." she put a finger to her lips, thinking. "If I recall correctly, it's somethin' like..'resiliency' and 'resistance'. In your case, I bet it'll make your summons tougher to take down or dispel. Enchanting armor also wouldn't be a bad idea if you ever wanna get into crafting stuff.

"..Anyway~, now we use the big spell circle!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I expect you wanna get back to your friends as soon as possible, y'know, in case they're in a ton of danger or something."

---

Jack read several doors before just glancing at one in particular. "Artifact...of...explosions. Yeah, okay, I want this one," he said, pointing at the placard.

"Cool, cool," Noire said, drawing close and gesturing for Grigori to join her. "You pick something yet, Thora?"
"Uhh, I guess this one's probably good? Blocking?" she said, gesturing.

"Seems like a pretty good synergy," the catgirl agreed. "Okay, open our door and let's see what happens."

Jack nodded, taking the doorknob and opening it. Inside was another of those hallways that seemed to be between each pair of doors to meaningful rooms in this place, and nothing happened while the party waited a moment to see. Then, shrugging, Thora opened her door to a similar hallway. "Okay," the rogue concluded, "Barring anything interrupting us, let's head on in and face the guardians. See you three on the outside!" She waved, heading in first but quickly allowing the tall, strong guys to get in front of her.

Thora took the lead in her own hallway of course, boldly opening the door at the end of the hallway only to immediately hear the door behind them slam itself shut. Briefly glancing back, the door had been replaced by a wall, just like in the "artifact choosing room". Looking forward again, she saw what Zef and Fiori had already noticed: What appeared to be a metal statue of a turtle the height of a human, with a sign hanging down from the ceiling to just a bit above its head that said Guardian of Blocking.

"Oookaaay...?" The berserker walked inside first, a bit cautious of the possibility of the big animal suddenly turning into flesh and/or animating to attack her. Instead it remained perfectly immobile, seemingly every bit the statue it seemed to be, except that its eyes suddenly blazed with a familiar, golden-yellow flame. Looking around a bit more, the room was about twice as tall as her and particularly narrow—enough for the statue to take up its entire width.

"Ehehee~," Fiori giggled. "The guardian is blocking our way. But you could get around it, right Zef?"

"Easily," she nodded. "Speaking of 'exact words', Mondelain only stated we would face a guardian, not fight one."

"It'd be kinda anticlimactic to not have anything resembling a boss, though," Thora said.

"I will go past it, then." Zef backed into the hallway again to get a running start, and then vaulted up and leftward, running along the wall above the turtle's left side. Just before she would've been above the turtle, however, her body slammed directly into a very solid, physical barrier, sending out ripples of yellow light from her outline along what appeared to be a plane of otherwise invisible force field. Both other girls winced at the distinct thwack sound this made, and she slid down the plane briefly before falling backwards onto her butt on the floor.

"...Ow."
"Aack! Are you okay!?" Fiori said, hurrying next to her. Zef was already busy placing a hand on her own face, four fingers on her forehead and another on her cheek.
"Healing. That sounded worse than it was. We should have checked for something like that beforehand," she stated bluntly.

---

Jack opened the door at the end of the hallway, striding straight inside with Grigori and then Noire behind him. They found themselves in a fairly large, square room, around four meters high, with a metallic statue of a hydra occupying its center and no other obvious entrances or exits. A sign hanging from the center-most head of that hydra facing the door (as many of its heads were facing off toward other sides of the room) read, Guardian of Explosions.

"...Is it gonna come to life or something?" he wondered aloud, taking a couple of steps toward it. As if on cue, every one of the hydra's numerous eyes began to glow with Mondelain's signature color, and all of its mouths began to open wider. This appeared to be a mechanical action, not the statue coming to life; much more worryingly, however, the head with the sign hung over its neck had something spherical and black, like a bowling ball, roll out of it toward the party. There was a faint sizzling sound coming from inside of it.

"Uhh—"
"BOMB!" Noire yelled, "Back up!" She followed her own advice, quickly backpedaling almost to the door; the others took the hint to turn and run quickly enough, until they all heard and saw it explode. Its blast didn't reach them, but they could feel its heat, and as their eyes cleared from the flash, they could now see a moderately-sized chunk of the floor missing around where it had been.

There was a brief, silent moment of staring at this sight, until the catgirl picked up the distinct sound of something rolling around inside the statue. "Pretty sure there's more incoming," she said. Two of the heads adjacent to the first one rolled similar spherical bombs out of them, of differing size; the three players covered their ears against the explosions, and found themselves faced with two more holes in the floor.

Glancing briefly backwards, Noire saw that their door was gone, replaced by a wall just as blank as the other four. "I don't like the outlook if we just dance around those things," she said.

"Hey, let's try dumping them in the holes," Grigori suggested as more rolling came from inside the statue.

"Or at least knocking them all toward the same spot," Jack agreed.
"Great idea! Let's spread out, quick!"

---

Thora gently tapped the 'force field' with her index finger a few times, then took a small step back, drawing her club. "Okay, so there's a wall in the way. I think I at least understand this problem." She readied her weapon, holding it two-handed behind her back, ready to swing.

"Hold." Zef held out a hand toward the berserker, then carefully picked herself up onto her feet. "What if this is similar to the previous trial?"
"Weeelll...if it is, then we're prolly still meant to do the most obvious thing," Fiori said. "And it was pretty obvious when something was right or wrong, too—buzzer or chime? I say hit it with all ya got!"

"Wait—"

The club was already halfway there before the monk got the word out, and any more she might have said was cut off by the sound of the weapon connecting, producing a sound like a low-pitched gong and sending huge yellow ripples out from the point of contact, followed by the formation of some dimly-glowing thin, hairline cracks spreading out from the spot before immediately beginning to fade back in toward the center, healing themselves.

"That did something!" Fiori cheered, holding her arms up with fists clenched eagerly.
"Yes, but—"
"Hit it again!" she cut Zef off—not that she needed to say anything, with Thora already readying another strike.

"Hup!"

The monk just placed her hand on her palm and gently shook her head.

---

Jack swung his axe like a hockey stick or golf club, sweeping big bombs off in the direction of the most recent holes. Noire ran after the smallest ones, grabbing and easily tossing them straight in the holes; Grigori just went with punting the ones closest to him in that general direction. As more bombs rolled out, approaching too many for them to deal with before they started exploding, the three of them were further interrupted by a brilliant flash from an unexploded corner of the room.

"..Sis!" Jack responded first. "Yo, I thought you'd have logged out by now!"
"I would've, but it—"
"Bad time for talking!" Grigori interrupted, running up and kicking a bomb away before it got to the summoner. "Put the bombs in the holes please!" Noire had also gotten straight back to work.

"Uh—okay, sure." Ronin brought out a couple of humanoid light elementals, having them run to grab some bombs and then head toward the holes. They looked different from before, their appearance possessing a fiery glow which was a somewhat duller, grayer shade than their actual bodies. "But uh—I could use some explanation, you know—where are we, what is this?"

"Mage dude's tower, to rescue you, duh!" Jack said.

"Not that you need it now!" Noire added.
"And that's the guardian of explosions, it drops bombs," said Grigori. "Is that up-to-speed enough?"

"No!" One of the elementals didn't make it to a hole before the bomb exploded, knocking it backwards and onto the floor, but it didn't dissipate from the damage. "Why are we fighting a 'guardian of explosions'?!" This particular explosion didn't destroy any of the floor, either.

"I don't know that I'd call this a 'fight'," the catgirl said.

---

"RrrrRRRRAAAAHH!!!" Thora psyched herself up, then went for about a five-hit combo on the shield. The cracks formed and spread like every hit before, then quickly closed themselves up again while she stood there panting from the several recent bursts of exertion. "Hff...gaah, that's still not enough?"
"Awwh, I thought you'd get it that time," Fiori said.

Zef stood by watching, her arms crossed. "Hmm."

Both of them turned toward the monk. "Hey, you have any bright ideas?" Thora asked.

"Maybe you are correct—it isn't 'enough'." She moved to a fighting stance, summoning some light-blades about her arms. "Do you possess any spells that inflict rapid, blunt-force trauma?" she asked the necromancer.
"Uhh, no, not really. I just gots this scythe," she said, waving it around.
"...Use that, then." She moved up next to Thora, close to the wall. "I will count to three. When I say 'three', strike it as hard and as many times as you possibly can. Try not to hit each other."
"Or you?" Thora said, readying her club once more.

"You will not hit me."
"..'Kay."

"One. Two."

<hr/>

"Okay, why'd you walk into this trap then?"
"I wanted an 'artifact of explosions', okay!? Sheesh!"

Ronin paused very briefly, then remarked: "..I guess that sounds about right."
"Less talk, more bomb throw!" Grigori reminded them; he and Noire had to pull most of the weight during this siblingly exchange. Almost half of the floor was now unusable, the area around the corner first exploded having only a couple of patches of floor attached to the walls. The size and quantity of holes now made it quite visible that below this room's floor was only a dark pit with no visible bottom.

"Actually—if you can just summon something to take the brunt of the explosions and keep them from breaking the floor, that's just as good," the catgirl suggested.
"Uh, okay..."

Jack held a position in front of the summoner, knocking bombs away as best he could. Grigori and Noire took up spots to either side of Ronin, tossing the bombs away or at his summons—whichever was easier. The statue wasn't spawning bombs in any of the directions that were mostly pits, but now the ones it did spawn came out at a fever pitch, one after another, in a variety of sizes. A few of those that appeared, one could swear couldn't possibly have fit in the stone-hydra-heads' mouths at all.

More or less by accident, the explosions carved holes closer to the small party, but also around the statue itself. It began to tilt slightly over, toward the opposite corner, and Noire got a last-second idea. She grabbed the biggest bomb she thought she could easily hold, and quickly bowled it right at the nearest foot of the statue. The explosion crumbled the floor out from in front of it, leaving the floor directly underneath it hardly attached to anything at all.

It tilted steeper, bombs still rolling out of its heads despite it visibly having no source underneath it for them to be coming from, and then with some cracking sounds the last of the flooring around it broke, allowing the entire guardian statue to topple down into the seemingly-bottomless pit. For a moment the four of them could still hear bombs rolling out of its mouths; then there was a brief cacophony of explosions followed by the distinct sound of something very heavy hitting hard ground and cracking to pieces.

The four of them stood there panting for a moment, then Jack stood up straight. "Woo! We did it!" he pumped his fist. A yellow glow appeared over the floor beneath them, spreading across the pit and seemingly re-filling it with floor until the room was hole again—sans statue. A burst of yellow flame flickered up through the center of the room, forming a small stone pedestal with an amulet on it.

"And there is our prize," Noire declared, combing a hand through her hair.

---

"Three!" Zef began striking the barrier at once, punching and kicking light-blades into it in one long, continuous combo. Thora went for a repeat performance of bashing it with her club over and over again, and Fiori energetically imitated this motion with her scythe (which is to say she bashed it bluntly rather than actually trying to cut it). The cracks from where their hits connected—Fiori's on the left being the faintest and the berserker producing the largest and most visible—spread and joined, a sound reminiscent of actual glass cracking apart joining the noise of repeated gongs from impacts on the barrier.

"Keep it up!" The monk had to dodge some of Thora's wilder swings, ducking or leaning to one side, but she had anticipated this from the start, and could see each strike coming more than far enough in advance to flow with the movements and keep on hitting, particularly targeting where the cracks were the widest. Finally, the three of them were treated to the noise of something shattering as the barrier fell apart into a bunch of tiny, glittering yellow fragments.

What they saw now that it was gone was no longer the turtle statue at all, but instead a small pedestal standing in the center with a ring sitting atop it, and beyond that a doorway.

"Hff...fff...phew! See, Zef, sometimes it's not so bad to think like a meathead~!" Fiori said.
The monk dusted herself off, easily hiding her slightly elevated breathing from notice. "Counterpoint: It is necessary to think in the first place."

"Hey, either way—teamwork, woo!" Thora interjected. "Hfff...yeah. Soo, that ring is the artifact, I guess?" She came up to it, looking around cautiously for any traps.

Pearls on the Beach

After months of general, overall writer's block and frequently just not having enough time, I was able to more or less sit down and write this one in about a single afternoon. That's just how it goes with writing, I guess.

Battle Vixens! - 103

First / Previous / Next / Latest

---

So, I realize at this point that it's been almost half a year since I posted anything other than intermittent parts of this particular story...with approximately one exception back in February. And I know, at this point, if I were someone in the habit of reading things at this site, I'd be wondering if this was all the author wanted to do at this point. The short answer is that it's not.

I've just had a rough half-year or so with not a lot of time in which to write; when I do find time to squeeze writing in I'll chip away at this or that thing, but this particular story has just wound up being the one that I can actually finish pieces of lately. There's a big pile of unfinished captions and story parts and individual stories all in various states of completion that I'm hoping I can find the time and energy to focus in on soon, but I know better than to make any promises about anything. I just want to apologize to anyone who doesn't like this story, or just prefers something else I'm writing, and/or is getting tired of it. Sometimes I just have to take what my own inspiration gives me: I have to write what I can, or not write at all, and I very much prefer the former to the latter.

---

Episode 103: That Makes No Sense

The first thing Rowan did after getting into the car was call Sam to check in on the other team. She indicated they had taken down their target, then she and Nico gave a rundown of just how that had happened.

"Thanks. Nico; you can consider yourself debriefed and go on back to your day job if you want. It's on the way, isn't it?"
"Sure is."
"I'll drop her off, then," Sam said.

After he hung up, Karis leaned up toward the front seat, where Simon was. "So, hey, what's with that stone fist attack?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well—you usually don't have fine enough control to sculpt something as detailed as that. But when that thing cut up my Stand you just pulled one up from nowhere to punch it in the everything."
"Oh, yeah...I'm not sure I understand that myself." He shrugged. "Just felt like I got angry and wanted to punch it, so I did."

"You formed a gigantic hand to crush the one that hit the school," Rowan pointed out. "I think it's something similar to my 'water dragon'."
"Oh?" He turned toward their driver, interested.

"Tenpo told me, when she was nearly consumed by one of those things and stopped time—that was driven by a specific, desperate thought. She could put it into words: 'I just need more time'. And Saturday, when I was facing down that dragon, I told it—'you will not hurt them'. That thought is what 'became' that dragon. I wonder, if you could put it into words—what you were feeling when you saw what that thing had done to your wife."

"Ah, well—you know." He put out his hands. "I'm pretty good at acting like a hero and hiding it from the public, but I'm sure you're well aware: I'm quite a selfish person at heart. Nearly every thought I have in my head is all about me, and the same goes for how I see those things. Ever since I gained the power to fight back, the sort of thoughts I motivate myself with to fight them are just like everything else: totally and completely self-centered. How dare those things upset my life—disrupt my livelihood, close my favorite restaurants, hurt my friends and wreck my town?"

"You have a funny way of being selfish," Rowan commented.

"If you say so. Anyway, this was more of the same, only much more extreme for a moment."

"Sooo," Karis said, "'How dare you mortally wound my wife', then?"
He nodded. "Mmh, with the spirit of that, but I suppose I wasn't thinking anything even that complex. If I must put it into words, there's just the three of them: 'How dare you'."

"Keep that in mind, then," Rowan said. "With some practice, you should be able to use that thought to form stone hands like that without having to work yourself up too much. At least, if my own experience is anything to go by."

"Oooh..sweet! I'd love to straight up punch those things in the snout without—you know—worrying about them biting my hand off."

They met the others on the way into the VI headquaraters, Sam helping Cynthia carry an unconscious Dawn. He gestured for Simon and Karis to go ahead, stopping to talk. "Good work out there. Seems like it was more..difficult than expected."
"Pffsh, that's an understatement," Cynthia said. "Dawn freaked out."
Rowan nodded. "That's..understandable. I'm sorry I put you both through this. Please, get some rest."

They headed onward—the two of them carrying Dawn to a bed, hopefully, and Warp vanishing her way down the hall.

Zeno stayed behind. "Hey, boss, can we talk? In private?"
"Sure," he nodded. "I had something to discuss with you anyway." They went to the nearest soundproofed room.

She'd made the request in a casual tone of voice, but walked briskly with her ears folded partway down, betraying a less-than-pleasant mood. This came to a head almost as soon as Rowan had the door closed. "What were you THINKING?!" she yelled angrily.
Rowan paused, taken somewhat aback. Anger like this was uncharacteristic of Ezekiel, a very laid back person in general. "I..may need you to be more specific."

"That giant bat we just fought was the same kind of monster that basically killed Cynthia right in front of Dawn before, and nobody so much as furnished the two of them with a warning before springing it on them!" She put her arms out, gesticulating, during this rant. "It—hold on, I can't, like this—"

Zeno took a moment to speak her phrse, turning back into a taller, human male. "..There. It was hard enough fighting that thing without having to watch Dawn have a full-on panic attack about it the entire time! We're all lucky Warp knew what to do to help her through it, because I was too busy keeping that thing away from her! And it still nearly ate both of them, if she hadn't ascended to the next level of trauma and then proceeded to throw it at that thing in the form of a bunch of icicles. And I'm no doctor, but there is no way she'll be fighting fit for the rest of the day because of this. We'll be fortunate if she is conscious before tomorrow morning."

"...This is my fault," Rowan nodded slowly. "I would never have sent them to fight that variant—at all, if I could help it, but definitely not without warning. If I'd known.."

"How did you not know?!" Ezekiel cut him off.

"I asked Simon to give me a quick run-down of their threat levels before the meeting, so I'd know how many people we needed to assign where. He's been keeping up with that wiki since it started, so I trusted he'd have some idea of how difficult each opponent would be from the names, without having to spend time reading all of the individual articles. Of course I would've recognized the one that killed Cynthia before, but...if Simon even knew in the first place, it probably didn't register. He would've been too concerned about the one that was practically targeting his wife.

"..I am sorry about this. I should have double-checked things myself, even if I was in a hurry."
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Ezekiel said, quietly but with an intensity even stronger than his angry yelling had. "But," he sighed, "it was an honest mistake. I can't be nearly as angry as if you'd done that on purpose for some reason. And I'd say 'just don't do it again', but this seems far too specific a set of circumstances to even have an opportunity to.

"...But speaking of Simon's wife, was that her I saw a moment ago? Sporting fox ears?"
"Right. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Or more specifically, to thank you."
"To thank me?"
"Well—not you specifically, maybe the research department as a whole."

Ezekiel seemed even more confused by this clarification. "..What for?"

"Well, by the time we arrived, that monster had collapsed part of the school...right on top of her," Rowan said. "I was able to keep her alive because of this." He produced the half-face fox mask he'd used earlier. "It was in my office mailbox this morning. I was under the impression it came from you?"

He stared at the mask for a long moment. "...Yes, technically, but—not in the sense you're thinking. We didn't send along a mask to you yet; we've been far too busy packing up masks, arranging shipping all across the world and making a few extras to cover the demand. That, if I'm not mistaken, is one of our castoffs from our early research into making keys, before we'd even made a successful hat. I was under the impression it was either in storage or had been destroyed. But it worked anyway?"
"It did," Rowan said. "So you don't know how it got to my mailbox?"
"That's not exactly true. I mean—there's only one person I can think of who's likely to have done that, and who'd be able to modify a non-working key into a perfectly functional one. Which means..." He put out a hand, and Rowan let him take the mask for a moment to examine more closely. "We may be able to learn something from this! There are a number of failed keys lying around the research department and it'd be very convenient if we could work out how to fix them by studying this model. Maybe Heph's power could give us a good sense of what she did to make it functional." He turned it back and forth in his hand. "I don't suppose we could borrow this for an hour or so?"

"That should be fine," Rowan said. "I'm hoping we can get Dr. Quinn to come and heal her human form back to at least a survivable state, but until then it's best if we minimize the chances she turns back, even accidentally. Just, please don't break it."

"Oh, not to worry about that," Ezekiel nodded. "My partner just needs to look at it for a moment with her 'special eyes'."

Karis didn't actually know where Rowan was telling them to go when he waved them off, but Simon apparently did, so she followed him. "Hey, I don't think I said thanks to you yet."
"To me?"
"You know, for saving my life and all?"
"I'm not really the one who did that."
"Modesty really doesn't sound very 'you'," she said. "You came along specifically to see if I was okay, you pulled the rubble off—without which I would've been dead, fox form or not—and you crushed the jerk who did that to me into a..I dunno, misty pulp? Vapor? What actually happens to the matter making up those things when they die?"

He shrugged. "I'm under the impression that it blows away in the wind."

"Either way, you saved me too. So—thanks." She took a moment to hop up at him and plant a kiss on his lips before they continued.

Evidently their destination was Rowan's office, and they didn't have to wait long after arrival for him to follow them and unlock the door. "Please, take a seat if you want," he offered, heading to behind his desk and the computer there. "I'd better check how things went over there before I call..."

---

Dr. Brand donned his own mask, then took the half-mask from Ezekiel, examining it closely. Her eyes narrowed, glowing fairly brightly, as she stared it down with an increasingly frustrated expression. Finally, she lowered it to address him. "This is the mask that was able to function as a key for her?"
"Yes? I saw her fox form for myself, on the way in."
"He didn't give you some other mask by mistake. You didn't mix it up with another one."
Ezekiel crossed his arms. "I think he would've mentioned if he'd mysteriously received two masks this morning, and he doesn't seem the type to just keep a bunch of normal masks around, much less carry them in a bag. And I haven't had the opportunity; I just got here. What are you getting at?"
"This mask," she waved it, then somewhat forcefully handed it back to him, "is completely inert. It has no trace of what I can see in any of our keys, functional or not."

"That...doesn't make any sense." Ezekiel shook his head, staring the half-mask down for himself. "Unless she just used her own power to awaken someone in a way that made it look like the mask was responsible?"

"Even then, there should at least still be some trace of our previous work still on it," Dr. Brand pointed out, "unless it's only a replica of the one we made...wait.

"I have never checked my own mask." She paused, taking it off the side of her head and staring into it with glowing eyes for just a couple of seconds. "...Nothing."

"Nothing?"
"Just as inert as that one."
"But that one—we know is effective. It's—you're literally using it right now. Or, at least the form it grants you.."
"It is possible, though I think unlikely, that they become powerful enough to 'mask' their nature from my view as well—after being fully initialized as keys," she suggested.

"Maybe? But even the ones we thought were failures before didn't look to have no magic whatsoever."

Dr. Brand stared into her mask for another long moment. At the same time, Dr. Bridges paced wildly around the office. He stopped abruptly, turning toward her. "We have to check the hat. You never had an opportunity to look at it that way."
"We never so much as scanned it after he put it on," she agreed. "This could be meaningful for every key we make, including the ones we're preparing to ship off all across the world."
"We've got to get Magus back here right away." Dr. Bridges hurriedly got out his phone. "Hold on—I have an idea how to arrange it, if it isn't too late."

---

Everyone was quiet for a minute or two. "Sooo. We gonna wait for the Doctors Quinn to get back, I guess?" Magus said, sitting up slightly from her slump. "I mean, I'm just sitting here 'cause my legs feel so sore they might not let me get very far."
"You could leave if you needed to," Amp shrugged.

"Hey, how'd things go over in the city? You see the news or anything? I uhh, left my phone...sssomewhere..."

"I had a quick look at things, yeah," Amp said. "They..made it through, but not without some problems. Dawn and Cynthia wound up fighting the same kind of monster that ate her before, and Dawn just completely broke down. She...did a big ice attack I think was probably like a concentrated burst of you guys' rage state, and then collapsed, and was still unconscious when they left. And—Petra's wife got buried under part of a wall one of those things knocked down, but I guess it turns out she had a fox form all along? And, she was able to use that to survive."

Both of the others turned their heads at this last part. Emma went first: "Wait, you mean Karis had a fox form all along?"
"I guess?"
"That..that doesn't make any sense. I mean—uh, m-maybe I'm wrong but, when I met her the other day, she didn't seem like someone who'd sit on the sidelines if she was able to fight."
"That's, the same impression I got," Light said, "from what Simon told me once. What are her powers like?"
"Apparently she can summon a second body—but not like yours," she added quickly to Emma. "More like, 'actually summon', where she doesn't get hurt if it does, and it gets unsummoned if it takes too much damage, then resummoned at full health again."

"Dude, that's sweet. I oughta see if I can summon a familiar or something sometime," Magus said. "I mean like, when I don't feel like hot garbage."

Light's mind was still on a different track. "If she was in danger from that monster, why wouldn't she change and send out her summon to distract it before it brought a building down?"

"Uh, not the whole building, just like—one wall," Amp said. "Two-story wall and the roof over that part."
"My point is the same. Especially if it was probably putting her students in danger too..."

"Well, m-maybe she didn't have a power?" Emma suggested. "What if she's like Magus instead?"
"...Yeah. It didn't happen until Rowan and Petra had already shown up. That could be it," Amp concluded. "The VI officially announced that she had been offered powers and just never said the phrase to accept them before that point, but—the public isn't supposed to know about the alternative method yet, maybe."

All of them paused as footsteps approached in the hallway outside—two pairs coming closer to the door. One of them got out some keys, and Light made everyone briefly invisible until the door opened and the Quinns stepped inside. "Who's not supposed to know what now?" Rory asked, following her husband in.

"Uh, this thing," Magus pointed to her hat. "And Petra's wife maybe having something like it now too."
"I see," said Clark. "About her. Rowan called me on our way over, and I agreed to head over this afternoon to stabilize her human form, with Sam coming our way to cover for my absence."

He turned Light's way. "Sorry about agreeing to this without consulting you, but..we don't actually know a lot about how the health of one form affects the other—some things, like fatigue, definitely do carry between forms. So, I couldn't very well say no to possibly saving someone's life. And it seemed like a good idea to have Sam go where Ning is so she won't be a lone, stranded fighter waiting around for the rest of us again."

"Uh, you don't need to apologize to me," Light said. "I mean, it's your decision where you go, and..I'm not really cut out for organizing stuff like this anyway."

"Hey, I mean, everyone says you're the leader around here," Magus pointed out.

She sighed. "And somehow, telling them I'm not just made it worse."

Clark continued: "Anyway—Rory can borrow my power if there's an urgent need for someone to be healed on this end and Gemma can't do it."

"Seems like a solid enough trade to me," Amp said. "And they'll be okay without her?"
He shrugged. "Rowan said they've had plenty of tough fights with just as many, before she showed up. Anyway, my puppets can serve the role of tank pretty well, too—and if it's strength we need, I can borrow..." He trailed off, interrupted by his phone ringing, and held it up to glance at it. "..Rowan again. Hold on."

"Sorry to bother you again. Have you left yet?"
"No, I just got back to the college. Still need to arrange for someone to handle my classes."
"Good. The research department's asking whether you can bring Magus with you. They also tried contacting her, but haven't had any replies yet." The girl in the hat made an apologetic expression, hearing this, and tried to deliberately mouth something, but Clark only caught the word 'backpack'.

"She's here, and fine. Well—uninjured, anyway. So physically speaking, I can, although she may have other plans this afternoon?" She shook her head and gesticulated excitedly. Clark gave her a look and brought the phone away from his head a bit. "You can just talk, you know—the phone can't hear you at this distance."
"Oh, uh. Heheh, right. Yeah, I can totally come with," she said. "I mean, I won't be missing anything super important, if this is important..."
He sighed, giving her a somewhat disapproving look at the cavalier attitude toward skipping classes. "Is this important?"

"As far as I know, it is. Something about a snag with keys like her hat that they're hoping they can solve by taking a close look at it."

"Then I suppose I can bring her. We'll head your way soon."
"Thank you." Rowan hung up.