30. Mindscape

“What the fuck are you doing here, Bango?”

The question reverberated. It really shouldn’t have. They stood in an open courtyard. The acoustics were all wrong under this hellish pink sky. Maybe it was the surplus of metal, maybe it was the tone of his voice. Nonetheless, Rinkaku Harigane cringed as his own words rang in his ears.

“I want answers, Harigane.” Dentaku Bango stared ahead, and did not blink. “Two days ago. The incident at school. What happened? What did you do? What’s the meaning of all this?”

“That’s not what I’m asking here,” Rin’s voice rose and steeled, until the screech tore at his throat. “I’m asking just what in the world do you think you’re doing here, Bango?!”

Bango’s jaw stiffened, knuckles whitening. Harigane said his name right, but it didn’t feel good. He couldn’t admit anything without admitting everything. He had wanted answers, and JPRO had provided—those weren’t all he needed, however. Explanations were appreciated, but he needed more than just context. Hakana had promised him the answers he wanted, a chance to meet Harigane face-to-face, in a situation he couldn’t possibly ignore. To the man’s credit, whilst he couldn’t possibly look any less trustworthy, Hakana had followed through on his word.

This was that chance.

“For years,” he said, “you never looked at me. You never talked to me, not really. You didn’t want to see me, and so you didn’t.” A muscle in his throat twinged, but he steeled through. “I want answers, Harigane. I want to know why. I want to know what gives you the right to spurn my ambitions; what gives you the right to pretend as though I have never mattered, not even once?! What gives you that right?!”

The hollow metal now rang with Bango’s voice—a sore, bruised bell. The space between them warbled, vibrating the air into a slight haze.

“You’re kidding me.” Rin’s tone was softer now, half-spoken. The boy raised a hand to hold his forehead, but that hand now shook. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Bango received this in stunned silence, one quarter step back.

Harigane was looking at him now, but not how he wanted. Those eyes didn’t see him at all. They glared at an entity that stood where he did, an object of rage, a target of incredulity. Rin’s arms flopped to his sides, and the boy unearthed a breathless chuckle. “I can’t believe it. I genuinely can’t believe it. Oh, this is amazing.” His chuckle morphed into a stifled giggle. “It hadn’t even occurred to me that it was even possible for someone to be so stupid!”

Bango bristled, and turned one shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god!” Rin yelled. “Don’t you know where you are? This is a prison complex in a parallel dimension built by a psychotic death cult run by a megalomaniacal madman experimenting on kidnapped children to create an army of supersoldiers to usher in a new world order!” Rin cried. “You are a highschool mathematician! This isn’t your world!”

Bango bit his lip. “Nor is it yours.”

“Oh my god,” Rin buried his face in both hands and raked his fingers down his cheeks, exposing the ghoulish whites of his eyes. He groaned, exasperated, then hung his head. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he repeated. “This is absolutely mental. Good lord. How do I even go about this? Do I even bother explaining anything?” He rambled, tapping his toe on the concrete. “Fuck it. I’d be wasting my breath trying to explain anything that isn’t theoretical calculus to this childish sack of lead. I won’t bother.”

Seizing on a spark of irritation, Rin spun on his ankle and pointed a daggered finger up at Hideyori Hakana who, not missing this drama for the world, had pulled a bucket of popcorn out from under his hat.

“You! What did you do, dangle a carrot on a stick? Don’t you know how messed up it is to prey on the mentally handicapped?”

“That’s a bit mean.” Hakana raised an eyebrow, before offering the bucket forward. “Popcorn?”

Rin seized a handful of popcorn and munched on it. “Fuck you!” He spat, mouth half full. “What kind of psychopath eats salty popcorn?”

Hakana raised an eyebrow. “Anyone over the age of twelve.”

“Fuck you—again!”

He shrugged.

“Don’t ignore me, Harigane!”

Rin gradually swivelled back around on that same heel, so slowly you could hear it creak, and ogled the other boy like a rare specimen of cow. “You’re still here, Bingus? I’ve already told you, this has nothing to do with you! Go back to school, ace those tests, go compete in your maths competitions for all I care—just, for the love of god, get out of here!”

Every single muscle in Bango’s body was tense to the point of rupture. He shook where he stood, vibrating in place. Waves of searing prickles ran under his skin. He wanted to tear it off. He wanted to tear everything off. His shirt collar, tight around his flexing throat; his blazer fastened around his shoulders like a straitjacket. It took everything he had to keep his voice level. “I’m not leaving, Harigane. Not until I get what I came for.”

Rin sighed. “Listen, I know the concept is foreign to you, but I do actually have somewhere to be. I didn’t come to this freaky factory for fun, you know.” He turned half-way to keep an eye on the amused Hakana, and tapped at his nonexistent watch. “My schedule’s a bit packed. Can we reschedule my playdate with Bingbong for later? Already running a bit behind as-is.”

Hakana was trying hard to keep a straight face.

“Cut it out!” Bango shouted. “Harigane, look at me!”

Rin reluctantly acquiesced.

“You know why I’m here! You’re going to tell me what on earth is going on, with all of this!”

Rin’s face lost all mirth. “I mean, I’m not sure what you want me to say. Come on, Bono. You don’t think I can read between the lines? Did you really think this would impress me?” He shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s wrong with you…”

“You’re doing it again,” Bango growled. “You always do this. You’ve always done this. Every single time I confront you, you laugh it off; you do everything you can to stop taking me seriously.” He took a step forward, and raised his voice. “Are you scared, Harigane?”

“Scared?!” Rin burst out laughing before— “No.”

His face dropped into something dour. Hands in pockets, back slouched, he started to walk. His steps—and his alone—resounded throughout the stone and concrete.

Bango squared his shoulders; fists, tightened by his sides.

Rin wasn’t walking towards him, however; wasn’t looking at him, either. Rather, a point just past him to the right.

“If you think voluntarily being groomed by some shadow organisation and subjecting yourself to a ritual of unknown consequences just to settle your pathetic, pathetic projected little rivalry is going to make me take you at all seriously, you’d have far more success flossing your teeth with a brick.” The boy stuck both hands in his pockets and marched with a slouch. “Here’s a thought,” he added off-hand, “maybe if you knocked yourself on the head with said brick enough times, you’d sustain enough actual brain damage to excuse the genuine stupidity you’ve shown up until this point.”

Just as he was about to pass, Bango put out a hand to his side. “I’ve been ordered to stop you here, Harigane. I can’t let you pass.”

Rin stared a moment, then mumbled, “You’re not kidding, are you…”
Bango glared back down, his third eye fresh and gleaming.

“JPRO opened the door to a great opportunity for me.” His eyes sparkled something dangerous. “They helped me awaken to power I could never have imagined, to fulfil my latent potential.”

Rin retreated a few. “Oh, you’ve actually lost it.”

But Bango wasn’t listening. “What did it take for you to excel? You and I, we’re the same.”

Psychic energy on a magnitude Rin hadn’t ever seen before crackled around him. The taller boy emanated a dark aura that chilled him to the bone.

“You never wanted to accept that, but I have. You’re convinced you’re better than everyone else. You always have been. You said so yourself, that you won’t rest until you’re the world’s greatest architect. Don’t you see? There’s so much that we can accomplish now that we’re both like this. JPRO has opened my eyes, Harigane.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Rin shouted. “Look at this place! JPRO is kidnapping and experimenting on people! Children! And this is what you’re concerned about?”

Bango’s fists tightened.

“Do you honestly think I have the time to waste fighting you?” Rin grimaced, pitying. “I’ve got people depending on me. I don’t have time to waste indulging your bleeding insecurities. Go… find a prostitute, or something, if you’re desperate for someone to pretend to love you. God, that’s so sad.” Rin grit his teeth. Hearing those words come out of Bango’s mouth made his ears ring. A wave of prickles washed over his skin. What had they done to him? Rin looked away. He couldn’t stay.

Side-stepping out of Bango’s reach, he started walking past the boy. Sparing one last glance over his shoulder, Rin sighed and shook his head. “Please, just grow up.”

Bango was quiet. He stood there shaking, seething. “How dare you.” Blood began to trickle down his chin from where he’d bit his lip. “Every single time, you mock me; you belittle my talents, my accomplishments. Do I really pose that much of a threat to you?”

Bango’s psychic presence skyrocketed. Rin froze, an abrupt pressure on his knees. A trickle of sweat, of fear, oozed down the side of his face.

“Even now,” said Bango, “when I’ve gone to such lengths just to fight you on equal footing, to match your power with my own, you throw me aside, acting all high and mighty with your newfound purpose. How dare you!”
He put both hands together, and executed a series of interlocking handsigns.

NUMBER THEORY, TECHNIQUE RELEASE

数値理論、術式開放 SŪCHI RIRON, JUTSUSHIKI KAIHŌ

FUNCTION: ARITHMETIC

関数「算術」 KANSŪ・SANJUTSU

A spectral red symbol flashed behind him, the shape of a plus.

“I’ll make you understand. I’ll show you just how much of a threat I truly am.”

Rin had only just turned around, when Bango blinked in front of him, a red aura coiled tight around his arm. He didn’t even have time to guard. Bango drove a blistering cross into his chest.

POWERSTRIKE

加叩 KAKŌ

The blow cracked like a shotgun, blasting Rin into the metal wall. Bango followed through on his punch, curling his arm and sinking to one knee as the psychic energy arced along his bicep.

“Good shot,” commented Hakana from elsewhere. The man had taken up observation, seated on a high wall nearby.

Bango stood, flexed his arm, and nodded in recognition. He looked at his clenched fist, still humming with power, and his face split in an eerie grin.

What a rush.

Rin picked himself out of the wall with a groan. His vision span. The back of his head ached from the resonant collision. Psychic energy from his instinctual reinforcement made his chest glow, dissipating in errant little crackles down through his limbs. He closed both eyes and took a deep breath. The sparks in his head arced down his spine, shooting down to his extremities. A wave of electricity passed over his skin. The pain persisted, but the flow dampened the shock.

“Not sure what I expected,” he said. “A part of me knew you’d somehow find a way to make this about yourself.”

“I’m surprised you can still stand,” Bango grinned. “How does that feel, Harigane?”

Rin stretched out his shoulders. “Mildly irritating—like I tripped on the curb on the way to the station, and now I’m going to miss the train.”

Bango clicked his teeth. “You still won’t admit to it, will you?”

“What are you expecting, a medal?”

Bango’s eye twitched. The boy grit his teeth. That red aura flared around him yet again, and Rin braced. Bango’s form shimmered, as he launched himself at Rin once more.

“All I could ever hope for is a response!”

POWERSTRIKE

加叩 KAKŌ

The second fist, an underarm body-blow, landed square in Rin’s gut. Even through his guard, his body convulsed. He coughed, eyes blanking. The impact passed right through his sternum and drove a seismic crack through the concrete. Bango withdrew his fist. Rin slumped to the floor, leaving another crater in the wall. Bango didn’t let him rest, and hoisted him by the collar of his jacket. Rin let his head just slump to the side.

“How’s that?” Bango said through gritted teeth. “Irritating enough for you? You can’t even guard against my attacks. Why won’t you fight back?! Are you just going to drop dead?”

Rin only lolled, limp.

“Answer me!” Bango shook him by the front, slamming him against the dented wall. “Fight! Back!” He seethed, winding back his arm, a punch aimed at Rin’s face.

A pair of hands grasped Bango by the wrists, and the boy froze.

“You can let go of me now, Bagel,” Rin wheezed, and wrenched the boy’s hands off his collar.

Bango took a step back, and gave him the space to stand. Rin stumbled around and hacked up another few wrenching coughs, before righting himself with a shake of the head.

“Satisfied?” He asked, massaging his stomach.

Bango glowered. “Not yet.”

“That’s unfortunate. Thanks for easing up when I asked, you dog.” Rin turned perpendicular and starting walking towards the exit at the far end, hands behind his head. “I’ve given you enough time. If you haven’t gotten all that childish angst out of your system by now, that’s really not my problem. I’ll have all this sorted, then I’ll see you back in class. We can graduate together, just like you’ve always wanted.”

“Where are you going?!” Bango yelled.

“To do what I came here for.” Rin shrugged, his back turned. “I already told you. I’ve wasted enough time fooling around here with you already. Giving you the satisfaction of an actual fight is literally the last thing on my agenda, below eating a balanced diet and getting a full nights’ sleep. Me fighting back won’t help either of us, and I’m not going to indulge you in your delusions. I might be an ass most of the time, but I draw the line at cruelty.”

Psychic energy charged through his legs. Rin lowered his centre of mass, and took off in a blazing sprint. A momentary glint caught his eye, before a gloved hand seized his throat.

“Not so fast.” Hideyori Hakana appeared out of nowhere and lifted the boy off his feet. He stared him down with one blue eye, lip curled. “Bango came all this way, sacrificed so much, risked it all, just for you. Would be rude not to humour him just a little more, don’t you think?”

Rin growled, struggled, coughed and spluttered but Hakana wouldn’t let go. The shark only grinned. Throwing Rin away and to the floor, Hakana manifested an orb and suspended it between both palms. The hum of psychic energy intensified, purple arcs singing the air around the executive. The orb glowed bright, then swelled.

And somewhere, deep within Rin’s subconscious, the Architect stirred.

Hakana’s invocation in that moment stilled the air itself.

MINDSCAPE: GLASS EYE OBSERVATORY

虚廟「玻眼球神室」KOYASHIRO・HAMEDAMA KAMURO

The smooth glassy exterior expanded, and swallowed him whole. Rin shielded his eyes, braced for an impact that never came. A cool, liquid sensation flowed over his skin. For a moment, everything went dark. The ground vanished from underneath him. Rin fell for a short while, before suffering a graceless landing on both feet. The oppressive pink sky vanished. The courtyard around them had disappeared. He and Bango now stood opposite one another in the middle of a gigantic stone arena underneath a dark, starry sky. Where the moon should be, however, a gigantic blue eye gazed down at them both. It blinked, eerily. Rows of empty tiered seating surrounded them on all sides, enclosing them in the withered columns of an ancient coliseum.

Rin took stock with a glance all around. “What the hell is this place?”

“To think psyche users of today were so capable,” remarked the Architect, fading into view.

“Meaning?”

“I had feared this technique would be lost to time,” he mused. “But, if such ancient arts have survived, this bodes well indeed.”

Rin soured. “Fancy answering my question? Where the hell am I?”

“Mindscape is the pinnacle of psychic energy externalisation,” said the Architect. “By constructing a barrier out of psychic energy, the practitioner projects their Further Plane onto the inside like a canvas. This creates an isolated subsection of reality in which the potency of their Specialty is amplified, and its effects cannot be avoided.”

“I’ve definitely read this somewhere recently…” Rin thumbed his chin. “Yeah, this seems familiar.” He made a handsign with one hand and pulled an imaginary blindfold down his face. “Given I haven’t been rendered braindead or diced into sashimi yet, I’m assuming this Mindscape doesn’t have a lethal technique like the others.”

“It’s unusual,” the Architect concurred. “It is always possible, of course, but I’ve never seen an interpretation of the technique like this before. The psychic energy woven into this barrier is no different from the signature belonging to those orbs.” He paused. This would not be forgotten. “Consider yourself intensely fortunate, boy.”

Rin nodded, but his mind was already whirring. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before? This is insane! How do you pull it off?”

“That should be none of your concern.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” He retorted, outraged. “I want a Mindscape too! If I could land a guaranteed hit on anyone with Severance Planar, no-one stands a chance! Instant win-con!”

The Architect sighed. “You fail to grasp the true essence of Framework. For you to attempt this technique would be to pour water into the ocean. Do not waste your efforts. Focus on your construction.”

Rin’s face fell.

“That is no insult. It is just not relevant to you.”

“Fancy elaborating?”

“That is all you need to know for now.”

“Enough with the gatekeeping already!” Rin stamped his foot, but the Architect didn’t relent. The inheritor sighed. “Okay, if Mindscape follows similar rules to what I’m used to—I suppose I can’t just up and leave, either.” The space beyond the coliseum was vast and void—the kind of stage you might find in a platform fighter.

“Your intuition is correct. Mindscapes have no internal bounds. This one is shaped to facilitate a duel. It will most likely close when the duel is at an end.”

“Okay—that doesn’t get around the fact the one controlling it is a rat bastard. Won’t Hakana just keep me sealed here away forever?”

“It remains a possibility.”

“Great. Fantastic,” said Rin. “If you’ve got no more helpful exposition beyond your usual pompous grandstanding, you can get lost.”

Rin stared across the staged battlefield as the Architect faded from view. There,

Bango waited, tense and livid.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ball boy,” said Rin. “Wouldn’t you look at that? I suppose that’s one perk of employment for the big evil company. If your pathetic baby whining doesn’t immediately you get what you want, daddy flies in to the rescue. Seems I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Happy now?”
Judging by the death glare carved into his face, Bango was clearly over the moon. “You will give me the recognition I deserve.”

“You want me so bad?” Rin opened his arms wide. “Fine. Here I am! Come and get me!”

---

That had been a very easy way to settle things.

Hideyori Hakana gazed into the orb. Within, the two began to duke it out at high speed, no doubt putting their childish feud to rest. He pocketed the orb and withdrew another, observing yet another scene take place. This one had been from earlier in the day.

A boy with pink hair dashed through a set of winding corridors, riding atop a dark shape that flitted in and out vision. His features were obscured by the cloak he wore, but that mattered little. The prediction had been correct. Refine the skill for long enough with enough data, and predicative guesswork becomes fool-proof foresight.

Hideyori Hakana didn’t head the Glass Eyes because he was the strongest, not at all. Leadership was never decided on strength alone. His boss, for all his posturing, accepted that much. If you ranked the operatives in terms of brute strength, Hakana wouldn’t even come close. His danger factor, however, didn’t come from how hard he could hit a wall, but in a factor seldom expected: means.

Hideyori Hakana had means, and means were all he needed.

A fight needed containing? Hideyori Hakana had means.

Government and corporate espionage? Hideyori Hakana had means.

How about stopping an infiltration plot by rouge psyche users with the intent of destroying the company? If he so wished, Hideyori Hakana had means.

Of course, no one was perfect. Otherwise, Hideyori Hakana and his means would be all he’d ever need. Sadly, it just so happened that the one thing he needed to do, and had done for some time, was just the thing that his means alone couldn’t accomplish.

That was why—when Kinuka Amibari caught his arm with her whip and yanked it sideways, orb flying out of his grasp and smashing on the concrete—Hideyori Hakana didn’t shoot her dead, right then and there.

“Oh. You again. Miss Crocodile-Tears, isn’t it?” He tipped his hat with his one free hand, and grinned.

The blond girl crouched on a nearby wall, glaring with contempt.

“Looks like you survived. Good.” Hakana’s arm was still stretched out towards her, wire wrapped around his wrist. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by her arrival: a nonchalant greeting, like one would give a colleague.

Kinuka Amibari narrowed her eyes. She sat back on her haunches, having just finished reassembling herself. Nearing Rin’s psychic signature, a wall had stood in her way. She had the idea of unravelling herself completely and worming her way through a ventilation shaft. Her pride took a hit when she realised she was a moment too late. She watched as Rin and one more were swallowed into a gigantic glass orb, which then shrunk down to the one now sitting in Hakana’s pocket.

“What did you do to Rin?” She asked.

“Oh, just a little bit of damage control. Can’t have him and little Bango destroying company property, now can we?”

Kinuka couldn’t believe it. “Dentaku Bango?”

“Small world, isn’t it?” Hakana’s grin widened. “You all went to school together, didn’t you? How sweet.”

“Bango—why is he here? What did you do to him? What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Oh—he didn’t tell you of his new job?”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t—”

“Come now, is that really so surprising?” His words dripped faux-concern that sizzled holes in the concrete. “How well did you really know your little friend Bango?”

Kinuka didn’t say. Either that, or she couldn’t.

“Thought so. There’s a lot more to most people than you might think.” With his free hand, he waved a hand in slow-motion, deftly weaving an orb between his fingers. “Present the right people with the right opportunity, and who knows what you’ll see. He’s a worthy recruit, and we’re always looking to recruit those with potential—” He grinned— “Yourself included.”

Kinuka’s lip curled in abject distaste.

“No?” Hakana raised an eyebrow. “Shame. Offer’s still open. Cultivating strong minds is what we do here. The boss said it’d be a shame to have to kill you.”

“You’ve already tried and failed. Twice.”

“Ain’t that right. You took out two of my agents within days of awakening. Talk about making a name for yourself.” Hakana chuckled to himself. “That’s a scary Specialty you have there. Just imagine what it could do to someone.”

The midnight alleyway was painted with red from the desecrated puddle on the tarmac. Wet strings of viscera trailed in between her fingers. She clenched her fists, and the gore squelched in her palms. Her eyes vibrated in her skull, leaking black tears, thick like oil.

Kinuka gasped and recoiled, a surge of bile in her throat drained all colour from her cheeks. She stumbled, only to realise her surroundings hadn’t changed. Hakana hadn’t moved, still restrained. Had he beamed those images in herself? Was that her imagination? It had never been that vivid before. Kinuka shivered. That blue eye, that grin—they chilled her far deeper than any slasher caricature could ever. She swallowed thickly. “I’d rather not.”

Hakana shrugged. “Regardless, there’s no need for hostilities. I’m not here to hurt you.” He rolled his shoulder, uncomfortable. “Mind untying my wrist? My arm’s a little sore, and I need both hands for my cigarette. Surely we can talk about this like adults. You are an adult, aren’t you?”

“Technically.”

Kinuka’s suspicion only mounted. The way he looked at her felt far too familiar, a warped mirror. The man’s hair, too, why was it so light? Unusual, especially for someone who so clearly wasn’t foreign. That long ashen hair reminded her of the psychologist—fleeting memories now. But what scared her even more, was the long, red thread spanning between them. He hadn’t seen it; nor had Rin his own.

The cord around Hakana’s wrist released. The threads whipped back across, and Kinuka’s forearm reassembled itself. Fastening herself to an outstretched pipe, she abseiled down from her vantage point and made careful approach. The two were now five metres apart.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I don’t trust you,” she said. His eyepatch still gave her the creeps. ‘Mobster-meets-pirate’ wasn’t exactly a fashion style she would’ve thought suited anyone.

“And why should you?” Hakana replied. “We barely know one another.”

“I don’t intend on changing that.”

“You’ve got moxie, kid. I like that.” Hakana chuckled. “Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“I bet that list never ends with you, does it?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why haven’t you attacked me yet?” She asked.

He put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head slightly. “Why would I do that? We’re having a conversation, aren’t we? Civilised people don’t attack each other, surely.”

Kinuka deadpanned. “Do you really want me to list out the reasons?”

“If you want.” Hakana peered at his orb again, then at his watch. “I’m not pressed for time.”

“There’s no reason for you not to kill me,” she said. “I’m an intruder. An enemy.”

He waggled a finger. “Illogical, not impossible. Don’t conflate the two.” Hakana fished a packet of cigarettes from out of his pocket and put one between his lips. Still with open packet in hand, he motioned in her direction, an eyebrow raised.

“No thanks. I don’t.”

“Suit yourself.”

He retrieved golden flick lighter from goodness knows where. Blink and you’d miss it. Hakana either had one hidden up his sleeve at all times, or there was something else at work. Regardless, she kept her guard up. The man lit the cigarette and took a drag, a cloud of grey soon rising to stain the magenta sky.

“You never answered my first question.”

“Pushy, aren’t you?” Hakana took the cigarette out of his mouth and coughed into a closed fist, tapping away the ash. “It’s a puerile spat, nothing more. It was Bango’s only condition on his recruitment. He wanted the power to fight Harigane on even footing. Of course, your little friend didn’t take too kindly to that, in much his usual fashion, so I trapped them in this orb.” He fished around in his other pocket and withdrew the offending item. “Fancy a look?”

Kinuka reached out automatically, but stifled her approach. This was surely a trap she couldn’t afford to trigger. What if it trapped her too?

“Oh, come on.” Hakana rolled his one eye, and tossed it her way. “I may have pointed a gun at you once, but I won’t bite.”

Kinuka caught the orb in both hands. The glass was cold, smooth to the point of no tactility. It barely felt like she were touching it at all. It didn’t slip from her grasp, but also exerted barely any pressure on her hands. The sight within was mesmerising, so picturesque, she had to suppress a gasp of awe. “They’re fighting within here?” A redundant question. She could already see it unfold at rapid speed on a miniature scale.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hakana took another drag. “If you slow down a moment, you learn to enjoy each as it happens. This’ll make for interesting material, certainly.”

The silhouettes of both boys flashed around the miniature coliseum to the point it became hard to distinguish them. Kinuka bit down hard on her lip. “I can’t believe that Bango would just…” But she couldn’t even bring herself to finish her sentence.

“From one to another, I can tell you’re the perceptive type,” he said. “You seriously think that kind of obsession is normal?”

She couldn’t meet his eye. “What he and Rin had—it was never my business.”

“So, you feigned ignorance? How cruel. You could’ve stopped him from walking that path, you know.”

“Don’t you dare try and make this about me.” She snapped. Bango had never looked her way—or anyone else’s, for that matter. It was a little sad, she had to admit. She wouldn’t let this sleaze guilt trip her so blatantly. “Whatever yarn you’re trying to weave isn’t catching, so don’t bother.”

“Weaving? Me? I thought you were the seamstress here, little miss full-of-surprises. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you took down Old Yoshine.”

“You were watching?”

Hakana winked, flourishing another orb and letting it glide over his palm. “I’m many things—not a negligent boss.”

Kinuka’s eyes glazed slightly. She bit her lip. “He was crying at the end.”

“Conflicted, are we?” Hakana touched a gloved finger to his cheek. “Must’ve been, if you left him alive. Curious. Don’t you know what he’s done?”

Kinuka bristled. “I’m not a killer.”

Hakana’s grin vanished. The ambient hum of his psychic energy began to buzz deep in her ears, a low static resonance. He glared, piercing. “Then what are you?”

She felt the blood drain from her legs. Her mouth tried to form words, but couldn’t find the strength to operate her diaphragm. Psychic energy sparkled under her skin, a flash of will. She had done so without realising, but though some combination of his guile and her own shock, she had let him in. He was pulling her strings without even trying. She needed to get a hold of herself. Kinuka blinked, and affirmed her grip on the orb.

“Do me a favour,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Let them out, and don’t bother us anymore.”

“Is that really a demand you’re going to make of your enemy?” Hakana asked, and held out his hand. The orb in Kinuka’s palm quivered a moment, then leapt from her grasp and sailed in a smooth arc back into his hand.

Her brow furrowed. “If you’re my enemy, then you should have at least tried to kill me by now.”

“Who says I’m not going to? Could just be biding my time, and wasting yours. You do have people to be saving, don’t you?” He laughed, and she took up a sudden stance. “Relax, kid. Just kidding. It would be cruel of me to take you out at this stage, anyway. I mean, you get credit for besting one of my men. That’s no small feat.”

Kinuka couldn’t believe it. Here she was, listening to her enemy congratulate her on a victory against one of his comrades. He was clapping, even. Be it sarcastic clapping or otherwise, she just didn’t know. Who was this man? Even a month working away with her Threadwork would reveal even a scrap of truth. She just didn’t understand.

“I’m still interested as to why you left him alive,” Hakana continued. “There’s undoubtedly more to it, isn’t there?”

He was probing again.

Kinuka took a deep breath. “I’ve already told you. I’m not a killer. That’s a principle I should never need to justify.”

“Spare me the sanctimony. I don’t care for justification.” The man took one long, final drag. “I’m asking for your reason.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Did you believe he was worth sparing, in spite of his deeds? Did you hesitate at the clinch to spare your own conscience? Or are you under the delusion that lives aren’t to be held between one’s fingers?” He asked. “Are your reasons ideological? Or are they personal? Whatever your answer, all three are equally naïve.”

She swallowed. Her throat was dry.

Hakana continued, “I won’t ever forget that look in your eyes, Kinuka Amibari. I’ve seen it only once before. You interest me.”

That was not a compliment, but a target on her forehead.

“Do you want to kill me?” He asked, crushing his spent cigarette between forefinger and thumb. “After all, I’m one of JPRO’s most senior executives. You can comfortably assume I’ve done no end of wrong, and you’d be right. I’ve taken lives, and ruined more.”

“And you’ll just admit to that, will you?” Kinuka asked.

“Sure. Why not?” Hakana shrugged. “The vectors of consequence are in your hands right now, little lady. Better act now and take your chance, or else I’ll slip away…”

Kinuka blinked, and realised the man had disappeared. His voice returned from somewhere to her right.

“Taking me out would make the world an objectively much better place, wouldn’t it?” He asked, solemn. Hakana stood as though he had barely moved, hands still in his pockets.

“Save your breath,” she bit back. “I’m not here for you. You wont get a cheap rise out of me.”

“Really now?” He asked. “Then, what’s that scary look I see on your face? What’s the meaning of that look behind your eyes?”

Kinuka stared straight ahead, unseeing.

“To take a life isn’t a question of morality,” he said. “It’s a question of resolve. If you stay involved, yours will be tested one way or another.” A throaty laugh wracked his chest. “When that time comes? It’ll be interesting.”

The crack of a whip knocked the man’s hat clean off his head. Hakana’s eye shot wide.

The wicked length of rope slithered across the stone floor, coiling and reconstituting Kinuka’s arm. The tail hissed and flicked, serpentine. Her voice had stilled to an eerie monotone. She stood taller and tilted her head back.

“Would killing you release them both from that orb?” Her eyes were glassy. Not a shred of mercy lurked behind those lenses.

Hakana’s face split into its widest grin yet. “Who knows?”

“Then let me show you the depth of my resolve.”

“Seems I wasn’t wrong about you after all.” Hakana whisked his hat off the ground and dusted it with one hand, sweeping his hair back with the other, and replaced it atop his head. He thrust out an arm, beckoning with two fingers. “Let’s dance, girl.”

---

“Come and get me!”

Rinkaku Harigane would soon come to slightly regret those words. Dentaku Bango didn’t hesitate. All Rin saw was a flash of red, before Bango shimmered out of sight. He surged across the divide with a searing strike.

Instincts kicked in. Rin’s hands darted, twisting the white lines into shape, and constructed a hasty barrier. The frame shattered on impact, scattering metaphysical glass to the winds. The residual force sent him reeling. He skidded several metres back across the floor of the coliseum until his ankles backed up against a pillar. Rin put one hand behind, and stabilised himself on the stone. Bango followed through with excellent form, curling his arm and rising to stand. Even in a fight, his posture was impeccable. He raised his forearm, and tugged neatly at his sleeve.

“So, you’re finally using your Specialty.” Bango grinned. “This is a victory for me.”

“Yeah—big whoop.” Rin dusted his jacket, and started spinning another frame in one hand. “No point me trying to hand you off anymore. May as well put you in the ground quick—nip your delusion in the bud.”

“Delusion?” Bango’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, it’s a delusion.” Rin had stolen the grin and wore it proud. “It’s delusional to that you could ever hold a candle to my ability.”

The frown deepened. “Damn you.”

“Damn me yourself, coward!” Rin lashed. “Isn’t that why you’re here? Are you finally prepared to make up for back then? Or will history repeat itself, yet again? You’ve been given a godsend to finally face me head on. Are you seriously going to squander that chance, Dentaku Bango?”

No response to this. Bango stared at the floor.

“Yeah—thought as much.” Rin clicked his teeth. “Seems I’m right again—shocker, I know. Nothing’s changed at all.”

Bango’s throat convulsed, before he finally summoned the wherewithal to lift his head. “You said my name. Properly, that time.”

“Savour it, why don’t you?” Rin jeered. “Don’t get used to it, either. You landed one good hit on me. You moved faster than I could counter. That’s worth recognition.” Rin clapped. Twice only. “Bango, Bango, Dentaku Bango. You’re smart; you’re fast; you’re strong. What’s left to say? You hit like a fucking truck; winded me twice, despite my reinforcement. Psychic abilities stem from the strength of the mind, and yours has never lacked. Hang on—” His smile turning progressively more Cheshire— “What’s wrong, Bango?”

The boy had stiffened, jaw taut. “This isn’t right.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to acknowledge your strength; to say your name? That’s what you wanted, no?”

“Not like this!”

Rin sighed. “Come on, you know I can’t read your mind here Boggle…” His third eye flexed. “I did try—much as I felt you do the same. Hard luck. Seems they taught you good enough fundamentals at JPRO Bootcamp to shield your mind from prying eyes, though that literally seems to be the first lesson in Psyche 101. I’m really going out on a limb for you here, you know? I’m usually one for the escalation-of-conflict rather than the other way around, but needs must. You know how hard it is for me to lie through my teeth like this? The last thing you could do is show some appreciation—”

Bango roared, charging another empowered punch. Eyes wide, Rin opted for evasion. The psychic energy bolted down his legs as he shifted to the side. Bango’s blow struck true in the stone, driving a fault up the pillar. Rin backtracked, lightfooted. The falling fragments rained down heavy on the arena floor; the rumbling knocked at his knees.

“Then you lie!” Bango seethed. “You were never a good liar, but you’re not even trying to hide it, are you? If you thought you could pacify me with that condescending bullshit, you severely miscalculated.”

Rin’s voice cracked into high-pitched hilarity. “Pacify you? Why the fuck would I do that? No, I saw an opportunity for some god-tier ragebaiting and I’ll be damned if I don’t make the most of it. I can’t believe you thought I’d go about kissing your ass like that for even a second. Thank god you’ve retained some higher cognitive function—I was worried JPRO had somehow missed during the ritual and full-on lobotomised you by accident or deliberate malpractice. Could’ve done us all a favour, but oh well. The day they do something even remotely convenient, I’ll construct and then eat a house.”

Bango had wired his trap shut, head down. Retracting his arm from the pillar stump, he shook out his fist with a slight wince. Rin’s face brightened.
“And what’s this? Hit that pillar a bit too hard, did you? Seems you’re a fraud after all! Did it hurt when you hit my abs too?” Rin wiped away real tears of mirth under the mocking guise of pity. “Did they not teach you proper reinforcement? Damn, sucks to be you. Then again, I’d be furious too if that’s all I could do.”

Bango took a step towards, raising his eyes just enough to glare at Rin from under his brow. “That’s all I can do, is it?”

“I mean, clearly!” Rin rapped the side of his head. “You’ve used nothing but the same move ever since you kicked off this whole farce. You made a mistake not disclosing your ability outright. You think I haven’t figured out what your Specialty does by now? You’re about as pure a mathematician as they come! You just augment your fighting strength via addition. That’s all you do! Your own move telegraphs it from the get-go. You’ve been adding to your speed and striking weight. That’s why you’ve been moving so fast, and hitting so hard. Congrats! Everyone else can do that too! You think being a one-trick pony is going to get you anywhere? Besides, showing it off like that is shooting yourself in the foot. Haven’t you realised? Letting your opponent figure out your power is basically—”

But Bango hadn’t stopped walking, all throughout this tirade. Step after step, deathly silent. He swayed with each movement, blending into a slow and dizzying waltz, until he was only a foot away. The boy calmly chambered a punch, and the aura behind him flashed blue—a minus sign.

Rin’s face dropped. “Oh, fuck.”

SUBSTRIKE

减叩 GENKŌ

The blow nailed Rin dead in the sternum. Psychic energy arced through his body in an illuminating pulse, fizzling out from his skin and dissipating into the air. Rin’s eyes lost focus. He folded at the knees, and crumpled.

“Your shortsightedness is disappointing, Harigane,” Bango folded his arms. “Allow me to educate you. My Specialty is Number Theory. I can channel psychic energy through mathematical function to quantitatively operate on the world around me. This encompasses not just addition, but all four of the fundamental operators. You’ve always underestimated me. For years, you’ve compartmentalised me to a nuisance you could box up and ignore. You rationalised the first thing you saw, and took it as truth. Substrike channels the art of subtraction, draining your psychic energy and reducing your output. It’s punishment.”

Splayed prone on the floor, Rin groaned and began to stir. A pale hand seized Bango’s ankle, and the taller boy curled his lip.

“Get up!”

With another red Powerstrike, Bango kicked Rin hard in the chest, sending him flying across the arena. He smashed into the few rows of the stone tiered seating, and struggled for breath. Lifting himself from the wreckage, Rin once again thanked himself for committing his reinforcement circuit to reflex. He’d sustained enough damage, and he knew a humbling when it slugged him in the gut. He hauled himself to his feet and hopped down from the stands, and met Bango’s approach in the middle of the field. They stopped fifteen metres from the other.

Rin eyes bore a different look now. Bango recognised it, and his smirk returned.
“You’re finally ready to take this seriously.”

Rin held up a finger, signing pause. He conjured a metre cube in his other hand and knelt to sample the ground underfoot. He captured a chunk in his frame—leaving a large hole in the ground—and resized to hold it in both hands, studying. “Actual concrete, huh? This has got to be B-grade at least…” He muttered. “Wonder what the composition is. Guess I can break it down later. Definitely good foundation material…”

“What are you doing?”

Rin looked up, shrinking the cube to die-size and slipping it into his pocket. “Oh, I’m sorry—are you still here?”

“You won’t get a rise out of me this time.”

“Really?” He tilted his head. “Shame.” Rin scuffed his toes on the ground, before whipping something from his pocket. “Think fast!”

He flung the concrete die and snapped his fingers. The frame snapped back its proper, maintaining velocity—conservation of momentum be damned.

Bango looked surprisingly composed for someone with two and a half metric tonnes of concrete hurtling at them. Eyes narrowed, he raised a hand high above his hand. A new spectral symbol flashed behind him. This one was yellow, an obelus.

“Still you underestimate me.”

Such a heavy projectile at such a speed would’ve obliterated just about anyone, but Bango didn’t cower. In his mind’s eye, psychometric lines of measurement mapped the surface of the cube in real-time.

REND: BIFURCATE

裂「二分」 RETSU・NIBUN

Bango struck down with a knife-hand, meeting the block the moment before it could turn him into a fine mist. At the exact horizontal midpoint, that yellow psychic energy discharged down a central fault. The block of stone split cleanly down the middle. The fragments diverged, carving blistering paths into the ground where they remained embedded.

“How creative of you,” Bango sneered. “You pride yourself on your creativity, and yet already you resort to throwing rocks.”

One look ahead, however, saw Rinkaku Harigane already hard at work on something else. It seemed the boulder had only been a distraction—or, maybe a test. Rin had taken more frames of stone, and had started to construct a fort.

The ten-by-ten foundation raised him a metre off the ground. Fifteen foot pillars guarded all four corners, with further cross beams between functioning as both reinforcement and wall. Complete with a little set of stairs, Rin had assembled the first floor of his little tower and was continuing to climb.

The joinery was seamless. Rin’s frames had two states: while mobile, they did not interact with matter, could be freely manipulated independent of gravity, no matter their dimensions or contents; but whenever a frame was made real, the material instantaneously melded with its surroundings at the point of intersection. The resulting construction, therefore, was a single structure. Compared to regular building techniques, this heightened its integrity tenfold.

“Did I not tell you about it before?” Rin proclaimed, arms held wide. “My Framework is the power of construction! Anything I capture within the vertices of my frames, I can freely manipulate: allowing for the constructions the likes of which you see before you now. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!”

Bango worked his shoulder, rolling on the balls of his feet. His brow furrowed. Just what was his aim?

“I thought you were finally ready to fight, Harigane! Get down, or I’ll drop you!”

POWERSTRIKE

加叩 KAKŌ

Bango drove fist after empowered fist into the base of the structure, driving fissures through and carving away at the foundation like marble. The top began to sway, but still it held fast. The boy let out a roar, powering on until his knuckles started to bleed. His final punch rested inside the crater he had driven into the pillar, as Bango let himself breathe.

“So, your addition function amplifying everything about the punch, huh,” came the cool observation from upon high. Rin had since finished building the third storey, and had draped himself over the wall of his little turret, watching the boy exercise his frustrations on inanimate objects with the kind of vegetative detachment that came from watching crass television.

Bango stepped back, having to crane his neck to even catch a glimpse.

“Yoo-hoo!” called Rin. “You like my building?”

“Get down.”

“Nope. I’m having fun up here.”

“Get down!”

“I thought I’d learn my lesson for a change. That Substrike did a number on me. Internal diagnostics is telling me you’ve drained my reserves and decreased my maximum output. That’s a nasty move. So, I thought I’d hang back and watch your anger management class in session.” He was spinning a frame on his fingers. “Seems like by amplifying your strength for your attacks, the same goes for the feedback. Hell, judging from what I can see, I’d say it’s enough to overwhelm your reinforcement. I bet there’s a limit as to how much force you can add to your attacks, before the resultant starts hurting you. Interesting.”

Bango snarled. “Cost to me or not, if I hit you hard enough, you’re done for. I won’t ask you again. Get down.”

“You haven’t asked me anything. You’ve been barking like a chihuahua.” Rin was concentrating on another frame, larger and flatter this time.

“You used a lot of psychic energy in the creation of that structure, didn’t you? I wonder how much you have left.” Bango stared at the pillar. “Your house of cards is about to topple, Harigane. If I land one more punch on that support beam, it’s coming down. ”

“Uhuh, uhuh,” Rin wasn’t listening. “Would you mind holding fire on that brilliant plan for just another sec?” He had since resized the frame he was holding, now levitating a gigantic slab of pure stone, shadowing Bango for metres around. “You’re really in the perfect spot!”

Bango looked up, but Rin dropped the rock. The mathematician swore. He didn’t have enough time to evade. Instead, his psychometrics scanned the underside, locating the dead centre. Psychic energy lanced through him from top to bottom, converging in his fist. It sparked yellow, as did the obelus symbol from before. Bending at the knee, Bango let the tension compress within like a spring, before he exploded upwards through his legs and drove his fist up into the slab.

REND: RADIAL SIXTEENTH

裂「放線十六」 RETSU・HŌSEN JŪROKU

The psychic energy carved perfect fissures through the stone. Fault lines burst outwards from the centre, carving the slab into sixteen equal wedges. In the gaps between, the atomised particulate glinted in the artificial light from nowhere. Repelled outwards by the divisive force, the shards hit the ground in perfect formation, leaving Bango standing triumphant in the middle of the rubble—fist still raised, unharmed.

At least, until—

“—Shit…”

Bango’s arm flopped, and the boy sunk to one knee. Doubling over, he coughed into his elbow. Errant psychic energy sparked all over his skin in patchy bursts, twinges of purple static arcing along his suit and up his neck.

“Thought so,” said Rin. “I knew you wouldn’t die there, but I was curious to see what divisor it would take to stop the damage a vertical slab like that after you chopped the other one in two. Scaling seems consistent: the higher the divisor, the more psychic energy it takes out of you. Is it linear, or exponential? Either way, nice and logical. Good stuff. Gotta say, though, I’m impressed with the geometry. You used the weight ratio of those wedges to get them to fall out and away from you after you applied counteractive impulse to the centre. Not bad.”

Seething, Bango forced himself back to his feet. “Are you ever going to face me yourself?”

“You mean fight-fight? Not if I can help it. I don’t fancy getting blitzed again, thanks. Why would I willingly put myself in a losing state? Zoners always lose to rushdown at close range. Besides, I already told you: I’m going to crush those delusions of yours, even if that involves literally crushing you under stone.”

“You know that’s not going to work,” growled Bango.

Rin sighed. “Believe me, I’m all out of irony at this point. I’ll be as blatant as I have to.” He waved a dismissive hand. “For now, though, I need to think up some more limit testing. I can name a few functions you haven’t shown me yet, but I haven’t got tests for those. Feel free to resume trying to knock down my house, or whatever it is you do for fun—”

Bango had other ideas. All that time spent talking had given him time to stabilise his flow. His psychic energy flowed and hummed, cycling through his legs. He sunk into a squat, and allowed the addition function to charge. Then, he leapt. Bango scaled the tower in seconds and twisted in midair, right leg chambered to his chest.

Rin’s face registered some faint surprise.

“I said get down!”

Bango struck out, right foot connecting with Rin’s chest. The Powerstrike blasted the boy through the supports of his ivory tower and cratered him into the floor. Powerless against the inertia, Rin grit his teeth as his projectile self carved a meteoric groove into the floor of the arena. The back of his head smacked against the floor, and whites burst behind his eyes. Though his reinforcement dispersed the kinetic force evenly, it didn’t dissipate enough to prevent the dull, resonant ache from coursing through his bones.

Rin knew he only had a matter of moments to pick himself from the floor before Bango would launch another assault. The boy had made his position clear. He was serious, and he would not stop. Try as Rin might, his stall-and-exhaust strategy had its limits. Bango’s power was explosive and direct. Rin couldn’t afford to pull punches anymore. His own stamina had its own limits, and he was toeing the line. Pulling himself from the floor, he let the shivers of psychic energy shoot down his spine and tingle through his head; righting his balance, clearing his head. He took a low, wide stance, breathing heavy. Rounding the base of the crumbling tower, Bango approached, rolling his shoulder. He wasn’t breathing much easier.

“Not so high and mighty now,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

“Give me a break. I’m not tall like you,” Rin chewed his lip. “Call it a reasonable accommodation.”

“You look like you’re running on fumes.”

“And you aren’t?”

That last tower had depleted his psychic energy reserves such Rin knew he didn’t have it left in him for another one. He was out of his element now.

Time to get creative.

Bango steeled, then burst into a sprint. Not direct this time. Rin tracked him as he skirted around to the left, before feinting inwards and closing the gap. This, he had seen coming. In their brief exchange, Rin had been moving his hands behind his back. He had found he didn’t technically need to be touching his mobile frames in order to move them. They remained responsive to his mental control within a certain distance, and he could control them with the same hand gestures. To this end, he had moved several cuboidal frames into the floor, forming a perimeter five metres from his person to his immediate front, left and right.

Bango came dashing in from the left.

Rin snapped his fingers, capturing the floor in the bounds of the frame, then thrust two fingers up. The frame distorted in the y-dimension, extending a bar of stone about a foot off the floor. Bango moved so fast, he didn’t see the trip hazard until it caught and twisted his ankle. Pitching forwards, he was unable to defend himself from the crackling uppercut the waiting Rin drove into his chin. The redirected momentum suspended the boy a few feet skyward. In a move he had only ever seen in theatres, Rin chambered his leg, twisted at the hip and threw his upper body towards the ground. Both palms on the floor, he pushed up and kicked outwards in the same motion, his heel connecting with a crack into Bango’s sternum in a near vertical kick. Bango flew back, the ground welcoming him as it ever welcomed anything—hardly.

Rin followed through with the motion and righted himself. Clutching at his forehead, he stumbled. His third eye lurched in its socket. The sudden burst of dizziness nearly made him keel, but was washed away with supernal clarity from that infernal organ.

How the hell had that move worked first time? All that muscle memory from taekwondo was unbelievably useful, but he had never attempted that before. Then again, perhaps it was the image. The psychic energy from his unified mind empowered his body well beyond any reasonable extreme. By having a clear image of the move in his mind, the energy coursing through his nerves had aligned his body with the internal perception, creating alignment were there had been none before. The additional agility stats certainly helped with flexibility. Rin lamented his relative lack of force compared to the explosive force from Powerstrike, but crying about it wouldn’t end the fight any faster.

Bango had sprung back to his feet, nursing the back of his head. “Tricky bastard,” he cursed.

“That’s me.” Rin grinned. “You should watch your step.”

Bango grit his teeth. “Even after I’ve showed you my power, beat you within an inch of your life, still you joke. Still you mock me. I don’t… understand.”

Rin stood a little straighter. His expression sobered. “And maybe you never will.”

“Then help me understand.”

“Only if you show me you’re willing to listen.”

Silence elapsed. Both boys caught their breath.

“Harigane, why are you here?”

“You know damn well why I’m here.”

“Don’t tell me you’re on some ‘save the world’ bullshit.”

Rin cringed. “And you aren’t? Not even a little bit?”

“No. I’m not a child anymore.”

“And there we have it.” Rin sighed. “That’s fatal, that is. No wonder you’re so sad. Have you lost sight of everything you can’t assign a number to?”

He stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As it sounds.” Rin waited for Bango’s expression to change. When nothing did, he sighed. “If that doesn’t even register with you, you’re more a lost cause than I thought. Somewhere, in my heart of hearts, I hoped I was just being shortsighted. I hoped to be proved wrong.”

Bango frowned. “Why do you hold onto it, that hope? It’s irrational.”

Rin paused, and shook his head. “You’ll never understand that either.”

“Why not?”

A muscle in his Rin’s throat twitched. “Because, contrary to what you might think, a person’s motivation can extend beyond their own self-interest!”

Sparks burst from his heels, as he pushed himself into an advance.

This wasn’t his element.

If he stayed on the backfoot for much longer, soon his blockstring would shatter. One wrong move, and Bango would pummel him into the ground. That speed was no joke. Rin needed to push him into disadvantage state soon, or he would get overwhelmed. His opponent suffered much worse on shield than he did, and he wasn’t exactly useless in neutral either. He had just enough in him for a finisher, but needed to play his resources right until then.

Bango’s eyes widened as Rin rushed towards. Psychic energy coiled into blue aura around his fist, charged another Substrike—aiming a pre-emptive strike to gut Rin where he stood.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

Rin constructed a double-layered barrier and shoved it forward. Bango’s subtraction method broke through the first layer, and the blue aura dissipated in jagged forks along its surface. The screen shattered, but the momentum still knocked him back half a step. Still running full tilt, Rin followed up by slinging square frames like throwing stars. Bango deflected them with the backs of his hands, raising his arms into guard as Rin flew into a furious assault.

Psychic energy from both parties crackled in the space between as they exchanged blows. Most hits were guarded, but a few found their mark. Rin struck Bango clean on the cheek, only to suffer staggering body-blows in return. Of course, he never stood a chance in a direct clash. The red strength from Bango’s Powerstrike outclassed his strikes tenfold, and so every hit he landed felt inconsequential compared to what he received. The following blow to his shoulder dislocated clean. Rin cried out in agony and stumbled back. Bango grinned and moved to counter.

But Rin had measures up his sleeve. With his free hand, he seized the concrete frame from his pocket and made a duplicate. Placing it in the air in front, he enlarged it and snapped his fingers. The cube, now fist-sized, began to duplicate itself in the air ten, twenty, fifty times over.

“Prepare yourself, asshole.”

With a strained yell, Rin threw his hand forward. The cubes rumbled in the air, then shot forward with telekinetic impulse. A rain of concrete bullets shot across the space between, but Bango didn’t falter.

“Is that the best you can do?! You’re flagging, Harigane!”

Bango’s psychic energy crested, a green cross flashing behind him. Hands engulfed in neon verdant aura, Bango reached across his chest with and tapped the opposing arm with each hand twice.

DOUBLE-UP

倍増 BAIZŌ

A duplicate pair of spectral arms burst from the shoulders. Bango stood fast against the hail, as all four arms went into a flurry, independently deflecting each of the cubes in a blinding rush. The storm subsided, and the spectral arms failed. The tension elapsed, and Bango let his shoulders roll forward. One hand on his knee, he panted through the exhilaration. “There’s nothing you can throw at me that’ll slow me down.”

He lifted his head, but Rin wasn’t ahead of him anymore. The boy had constructed himself a flight of stairs, had taken a run up, and was now charging up the ramp to take a soaring jump from the top. Rin descended from the sky, frame held high and cleaving through the heavens.

SEVERANCE PLANAR

絶断平面

Bango jumped back, but not soon enough. The front edge of Rin’s slash tore a shallow gash in his suit, leaving a bloodied mark on his chest. Bango swore and clutched at the wound, stepping back.

Rin wasn’t finished.

He landed on the balls of his feet, psychic energy radiating out over the floor, and spun into a roundhouse kick that sent Bango reeling. The frame from before disappeared. Rin drew out several more, twisted and merged them into a single construct. The result was a blunt, rectangular sword, as long as his forearm. The design was basic, but had everything a sword should. He lunged at Bango with an overhead slash. Bango countered with a backhand strike infused with psychic energy. The feedback sent both reeling.

“You’re not going to cut anything with that blunt blade.” Bango winced at his earlier wound.

“Still hits hard, doesn’t it?” Rin bit back.

Bango retreated another step.

Rin’s face split into a maddened grin. “Scared, Dingo?”

Bango took up a stance.

They exchanged blows in quick succession. Bango’s fists made a resounding crack with every impact, as he took hit after hit from his rival’s blunt blade. Rin became worryingly faster with each subsequent strike, until Bango could only just afford parry before the blunt sword came around again. Even when he multiplied his arms, he could still only get a few hits edgewise.

He wasn’t winning.

What was worse was the sheer force behind Rin’s strikes. Bango couldn’t understand it. Rin was channelling his psychic energy through his constructs. His subtraction should have wiped out his stamina, yet he was still moving as fast as ever, and hitting even harder. Abruptly discarding his sword, Rin created another frame and lunged, slashing an upwards arc.

SEVERANCE PLANAR

絶断平面

Bango avoided fatal damage by the slimmest margin. The blade sliced through his eyebrow, carving a bleeding groove up his forehead. The wound stung like hell, leaking blood into his eye. Prioritising evasion, Bango strafed clockwise around Rin and scoured the blood from his face with a swipe.

He had lost enough ground.

Feinting in one direction, he anticipated Rin’s next strike and swerved left. He doubled forwards, ducking underneath the following slash. The red plus appeared flashed again, and he drove another Powerstrike into the boy’s gut. Eyes wide, the boy coughed a spray of blood. His diaphragm spasmed from the impact, shock coursing through his body. Launched a way back from the force, Rin landed hard on his back.

“You can’t beat me, Harigane.” Bango approached, psychic energy crackling in arcs all over. “You’ve stagnated. I’m disappointed.”

Rin got to his feet, still doubled over from the pain. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He coughed, a spattering of red painting the ground.

“What?”

“You wanted a chance to fight me.” Rin stood proper now, keeping his distance still. “Here I am. I’m fighting you now. No tricks, not anymore.” The vicious mockery had evaporated from his eyes, leaving behind a residual pool of despondency, partially crystallised. “Aren’t you satisfied?”

“No! Not yet!” Bango yelled. His muscles screamed from exertion. He had expended far too much psychic energy, but couldn’t stop now. The forehead cut bled unabated into his eye, staining his right the iris. Yet more blood soaking into his white shirt, dripping down his suit and onto the floor. The residual ache was enough to make his eyes water. He didn’t acknowledge the blood. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to suppress his vasovagal reflex anymore. Active psychic energy expenditure was all that was keeping it at bay. The shock would drop his blood pressure, and cut his lights. Harigane would have won. He couldn’t let that happen.

He could not stop now. Not yet. Not yet.

“I won’t be satisfied until you acknowledge that I’m better than you! That I always have been! I’ll beat you into a bloody pulp if I have to!”

“To what end?” Rin grimaced, pitying. With a grunt, he sunk to one knee, propping himself up with that blunt sword. “What if I don’t surrender, even then?”

“What the hell are you—”

“Do you have the resolve to kill me, Dentaku Bango?” said Rin, forlorn. “That’d prove your point, wouldn’t it?”

The crackling of his psychic energy stopped. In that moment, Dentaku Bango hesitated. The question—Rin’s accusatory tone—reverberated around his head.
In the momentary lapse, Rin took his chance. Using stone from the surrounding area as his material, he made another frame. This one was different. In the Further Plane, the Architect had created a whole structure from nothing, constructed a masterpiece before his very own eyes. Rin had approximated something close earlier, but he had never done it all at once.

Now was that time. Rin would do the same. He would get to that level. He would surpass it, in time. His construct wouldn’t be nearly as impressive, but if was going to get anywhere: he had to start simple, and he had to start now!

STONE TOWER PENITENCE CELL

石塔懺悔監房 SEKITŌ ZANGEKANBŌ

Rin consolidated the frame. The ground shook. The tall stone tower burst into being: four twenty foot walls arranged around a central holding. Dentaku Bango was imprisoned within, arms locked to his sides.

“Harigane, you bastard!”

It was already too late. Rin had constructed a sledgehammer. The frames by themselves weighed virtually nothing, but when charged with psychic energy, they became a vector for impact. Rin stepped up to Bango, his entire body almost glowing with the reinforcement. He swung from the shoulders, and dropped the hammer square into his chest. The blow caved in the back stone wall, and sent him flying. Bango hit the ground hard, rolled to a standstill, and finally stayed down.

Rin let go of the handle. The frames dissipated into twinkling motes of energy. His shoulders slumped, knees trembling. Slowly, wearily, he approached his motionless opponent. Bending down, he pressed two fingers to the side of Bango’s throat. A wave of relief accompanied the draining of adrenaline. Rin blinked as he stumbled back, his eyes vignetting as his blood pressure abruptly dropped. From the top of the Mindscape, that bulbous blue eye had stared down at them all the while.

Rin raised his fist, and gave it a triumphant middle finger.