CHAPTER 5: Burst

-VERTEX FOUR: 8.36679-

Interdimensional Space

TSAB L-Class Inspection Cruiser Arthra

Outside, the multicolored fractals of the interdimensional void churned endlessly. A normal human watching space and time twist and flow into each other would either be driven to violent illness or experience a complete sensory overload, if they didn't simply go mad from trying to comprehend it. Despite the presence of magic and technology far in advance of most variants of Earth, and knowledge of things that Terran scientists could only dream of, there was still no way a human could navigate the gaps between the worlds unassisted, or even survive out there for more than a scant few milliseconds without a barrier. The Time-Space Administration Bureau cruiser Arthra was a metal island amid a raging stream, navigating the space-time waters and keeping those inside her safe from their ravages. She was more than the crew's assigned vessel, she was their protector, their friend, their home.

In a small quarters nestled somewhere within the hundreds of meters of Arthra's alloyed bulkheads, a piercing, strident alarm sounded. It was immediately followed by an almost inaudible groan from the small figure huddled within the sheets of a bed across the room. Hands emerged from the tangle of fabric, felt for a pillow, and pulled it over the figure's head to muffle the noise. It was no use; the alarm continued unabated. In fact, it only grew louder the longer the sleeper ignored it.

Strangely, the alarm came not from a clock or a computer, but from a thick leather-bound book with golden designs embossed on its cover. After thirty seconds of no response from the sleeper, it floated off the desk where it normally sat and hovered over the bed and the miserable figure ensconced in the blankets. The book opened itself, rifled through its pages, and shone the current time in glowing Belkan script that hovered a few inches off the page, pulsing with red light. The alarm's volume scaled up accordingly.

"Nnnngh..." groaned a voice from the blankets. "Go 'way..."

Refusing to be deterred, the Tome of the Night Sky chimed and spoke in a pleasant female voice. "[Es ist Zeit, aufzuwachen, mein Herrin.]"

"I know, I know it's time to get up," mumbled the blankets. "Just gimme a couple more minutes..."

"[Wenn ich tun, werden Sie wieder einschlafen,]" the book replied patiently. It flashed its glowing script with greater intensity for emphasis.

"Slave-driver. All right, all right, I'm awake." Hayate Yagami yawned, sat up, and rubbed sleep from her eyes. "I bet nobody else is up at this hour. Nanoha-chan and Fate-chan are still asleep, right?"

"[Nein.]"

"You're kiddin'. They're already at the trainin' site?"

"[Ja.]"

"Rats," said Hayate. "Figures those two would be all responsible and stuff..."

"[Ich nehme an jemand muss,]" said the book, with just a hint of smugness.

Hayate stuck out her tongue at it. "Ha ha. Remind me to disable your sarcasm subroutine later. I dunno what I was thinkin' when I installed that..."

"[Jawohl, mein Herrin.]"

Hayate yawned and stretched. "Anyway. If Rein and the Knights are awake, tell them to meet me and the others planetside after breakfast. Make sure that-"

-static-

It was as if part of the time-space maelstrom outside had suddenly found itself inside Hayate's skull. Iridescent spots blotted out her vision, a high-pitched, oddly musical whine deafened her, and her quarters whirled around her in maddening circles. "Nnnngh...!" Overwhelmed by pain, she slumped back to the bed, desperately trying not to be sick. No, she thought through the haze, struggling to surface again, this isn't possible! I haven't had an attack in years, not since-

The Tome floated close. "[Herrin?]"

"Ulp... J-just get R-Rein up here, quick..." mumbled Hayate between dry heaves. "Hurry..."

There was a long pause as the book ran through its functions. Then, in an odd, cool voice: "[Fehler: Gerätebezeichnung 'Rein' nicht gefunden.]"

Hayate looked up at the Tome, bleary-eyed. "... 'N-not found'...? Th-that's not-" With a trembling hand, she reached for it, her fingertips brushing the familiar cover...

*****

Uninhabited World

TSAB Designation: "Carnaaji"

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Are you truly sure?"

"I'm positive."

"We don't have to if you don't want to."

"Fate-chan..."

"There's no need to rush, after all."

"Fate-chan."

"The doctors recommended fifteen months of rest before starting physical rehab. It's only been a year. You could still relax for a while longer-"

Nanoha Takamachi laughed as she stroked her partner's cheek with one hand. "Don't be such a mother hen, Fate-chan. You and I both know I won't be able to sit in bed for another three months. I'll be fine, I promise."

Fate Testarossa Harlaown's red eyes glistened with concern. She cradled Nanoha's hand in her own. "And you know I'd never be able to forgive myself if you got hurt again..."

"You're not a Gadget Drone," said Nanoha with a warm smile. "At least, not the last time I checked. So I trust you."

Fate sighed and shook her head. "And I suppose nothing I say will change your mind?"

"Probably not."

With that, Fate reached down and gently lifted Nanoha from her mobility chair. The chair was at this point more for extra support than it was necessary for Nanoha's health, but there was no question of getting rid of it yet. On that point, Fate refused to budge.

One year ago, Fate had come terrifyingly close to losing Nanoha, the person she cared about most in all the worlds. One year ago, on a routine mission, she, Nanoha, and Hayate, the TSAB's "Three Aces", the star Cadets of the Bureau, had encountered something that none of their training or accolades could have prepared them for. A swarm of armored, insectoid machines of ancient design shrieked down on them like demons out of Hell. Deadly, invisible scythe blades for arms, with edges sharpened down to the molecular level. Intelligent, relentless, and armed to the teeth, the Gadget Drones quickly analyzed and adapted to even the strongest of their techniques. It was just after Nanoha called for a full retreat and moved to cover the group's escape that the Drones' true horror presented itself...

Anti-Magilink Fields. Fate still shuddered to think of them... Drones wielding savage mass weapons that tore through flesh as if it were air, those were awful enough. Drones that worked together to construct a field that dampened, eroded, or even cut off their magic completely... Often she wondered what kind of sick mind could have conceived of such a thing. The memories plagued her at night: the transparent scythe blades silently carving through the air, shattering Nanoha's barrier like bricks through a glass plate and plunging into her, the spray of bright red on the snow, and her scream... Unstoppable, indomitable Nanoha, the strongest person Fate had ever known, screaming in mortal agony, losing her grip on Raising Heart, falling...

It was a miracle that she survived at all, the doctors said later. Months of grueling surgeries were needed before she could so much as sit up in bed unassisted, and even with the most advanced medical science and healing magic the TSAB could offer, she would bear terrible scars for the rest of her life. Initially, the doctors claimed that she would never fly again, that even walking on her own was too much to hope for. As for returning to combat? Out of the question, they said, a pipe dream at best.

Nanoha being Nanoha, she swore she would prove them all wrong. And Nanoha being Nanoha, she took all of the blame for the disastrous outcome of the mission upon herself. Never mind the AMFs, that she was still a Cadet, that she had no way of knowing that her team would be ambushed by an enemy none of them were trained to face... she would hear no excuses. Years ago, during the Jewel Seed Incident, she promised herself that she would never lose another battle. Being taken off guard by the Gadget Drones was to her a violation of that promise.

So as soon as she was well enough to remain conscious for a few hours or more, she began her training anew. Mental exercises first: after a few weeks, she grew to be quite skilled at crossword puzzles and sudoku, so skilled that the books Fate brought her needed to be replaced twice every week... even the giant ones that were stuffed full of the hardest puzzles available. Once the doctors permitted it, she advanced to telepathic tactical simulations with Raising Heart, just as she had years ago, only with the difficulty scaled much higher. Naturally, the doctors soon grew concerned, and made Nanoha promise not to overexert herself. When she did, Fate could almost hear their sigh of relief... of course, they were unaware that Nanoha was already well-practiced in running training simulations in her sleep. She indulged in those whenever she could get a spare moment, including during the many mandatory hours of bed rest the doctors prescribed.

Now, after a year, she felt ready to resume active duty. The doctors were understandably horrified... but given a choice between releasing her or fighting Nanoha's infamous stubborn streak, the doctors unanimously chose the former. Rumor circulated that at least one of them checked themselves into their own hospital afterward from the stress of the ordeal... the rumor was plausible, at least.

As if handling a delicate glass sculpture, Fate guided Nanoha to her feet, sticking by her side as she wobbled. She chewed on her bottom lip... maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "Nanoha, I don't think-"

There again was that warm, cheerful smile. "You're so silly, Fate-chan. I may have trouble with walking, but I don't need my legs to fly."

"That's not true, and you know it." Fate's brows knit together. "Maintaining proper guidance with Flier Fin or Axel Fin requires precise control of the superior and inferior extensor retinaculum-"

"Which is why I put on ankle weights whenever you're not looking, and flex my feet inside the chair where no one can see them moving." Nanoha laughed. "Don't make that face, Fate-chan, you'll get wrinkles."

"I'm just worried about you, Nanoha," said Fate with a sigh. "I can't help feeling like you're rushing into this..."

"Fate-chan." Nanoha leaned in close and planted a soft kiss on her partner's cheek. "I've been in bed for a year. I want to fly again, be myself again! I promise, if it gets to be too much, I'll stop, okay? Just let me try. Please? I'll make you that cream stew you like when we get back to the ship..."

Fiery redness colored Fate's face. "... That's playing dirty. You know how much I love your cream stew..."

"And you haven't had it for a year. Way too long." Grinning, Nanoha drew back and clutched the pendant around her neck, a spherical ruby stone. "Raising Heart?"

A series of crystalline chimes sounded, and the stone lit up from within. "[I'm ready, my Master.]" Raising Heart's voice was as warm and comforting as an old friend's, even bearing the signature metallic echoes of an AI speech program. "[It's good to have you back.]"

"Likewise." Nanoha grinned, giddy with anticipation. "All right, then... Raising Heart, Set Up!"

"[Standby, ready. Set Up.]"

Nanoha's Barrier Jacket materialized in her signature pink flash of light, and when that flash faded... even all of Fate's concern for her partner's health couldn't dampen the infectious joy that radiated from Nanoha's body like sunlight. Blast it all, this was how she wanted to see her, happy and in her element once again. Perhaps this would work out after all. Despite herself, Fate smiled.

Nanoha stretched and flexed her muscles, using the movement as an excuse to wipe away a tear before Fate could see it. Already she felt better than she had in a year. This was where she belonged, not wasting away in a hospital bed, being endlessly fussed over and treated like she would break. Deep down, she knew they had a point, she knew it was for her own safety, but surely she wouldn't get any better by staying away, by not being out here, helping those in need and doing the job that she loved... For the first time in a year, her hands closed around Raising Heart's staff, the sleek, hard body of her true form thrumming warm with power and lending her more strength. At last, she felt... complete. It was like a part of herself had been missing for the last year, a jigsaw puzzle without its final piece, and now that piece was back in place at last.

Nanoha couldn't help herself. She flashed a wink at Fate and smirked. "See you in the sky." And before Fate could respond, she cast the mental command she had been dreaming about for months: Up!

A double pair of pink translucent energy wings unfurled from Raising Heart's spearhead, and two smaller pairs sprouted from Nanoha's ankles. They rose... slower than Nanoha would have liked, but she was really doing it, she was flying again! Her heart singing, she bid her Device to take her higher, and higher still...

From below, Fate watched. When Nanoha lifted off without warning like that... she couldn't deny that she felt a momentary flash of annoyance, not typical of her at all. But after just a few moments of watching her soar, looping playfully around the billowing clouds that were a permanent fixture of Carnaaji's sky, laughing and shrieking and generally having a grand old time... all thoughts of being angry with her melted away. Nanoha was normally so mature for her age, already a proper lady at just thirteen, unfailingly polite and reserved when on duty or in front of her superiors. Seeing her cut loose like a little kid, for once using her power not under stress or orders but solely for her own enjoyment... it was all Fate could do not to start laughing herself. All the trauma of the last year became like a bad dream when she heard that laughter... so for quite a long time, Fate forgot about training and rehab and everything else, and took simple pleasure in watching Nanoha be herself again.

True, she wasn't as quick or agile as she once was. Yes, her muscles were weak and atrophied from disuse... using them hurt more than she would admit, and despite all her clandestine exercises, there were dozens of little twinges up and down the back of each leg. Nanoha wouldn't trade the aches and pains for anything in the world, though. The wind was in her face, her arms were spread wide, Raising Heart was at her side, and there was nothing around for miles save for empty skies and the grey, puffy clouds... flying here wasn't like flying on Midchilda or on Earth. There was no air car traffic to worry about, and no need to cloak herself to hide from panicky civilians or nosy government satellites that might be watching, waiting to cause a panic. Just miles and miles of free, unspoiled, endless space... bliss.

Nanoha did a few more loops, sighed in contentment, closed her eyes, and let herself fall backward. Carnaaji's surface rushed up at her, a million different shades of brown rock... the roaring in her ears became a scream, her pigtails danced wildly around her, whipped to and fro by the air... it was just like one of those dreams where you fell and fell and fell for hours on end, until finally with a jolt you woke the moment before you hit the ground, drenched in cold sweat. But this was no dream, and if she somehow lost control, there would be no waking up. From this altitude, at this speed, hitting the ground would be instantly fatal.

She wasn't worried in the least. Long before Raising Heart could implement emergency measures, long before the possibility of impacting with Carnaaji's unyielding rocky surface became even a remote concern, a pair of slender arms wrapped around her and cradled her, applying their own magic to slow her to a gentle stop... just as she knew would happen. Chuckling softly, Nanoha opened her eyes and smiled at her partner. "Hi, Fate-chan."

"You're impossible sometimes," said Fate, sighing and shaking her head. "I should have known you would try a dive on the first day, no matter how many warnings the doctors gave you."

"I think you have me pegged."

"You're lucky someone does. Is it pointless to ask if you want to go back to the ship now?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Do you want to go back to the ship now?"

"Not on your life," said Nanoha, sticking out her tongue.

"Impossible," said Fate again, "completely impossible. Fine, but low-power spells only. In your condition, anything other than a light stun could-"

"I know, I know. I promise, Fate-chan, low-power spells only. Pinky swear."

Their little fingers curled around each other, and they shook on it.

*****

Interdimensional Space

Arthra

Admiral Lindy Harlaown raced for the bridge with single-minded purpose, ignoring the pitching and rocking of the deck beneath her and the piercing shrieks of the klaxon. Every light on the Arthra was burning scarlet, half the decks on the starboard side were sealed off... whatever hit them had hit them hard, initiating a full scale Red Alert throughout the ship. All hands were on deck... her loyal crew wasted no time panicking, but went straight for their posts. She could do no less.

The Arthra gave a particularly violent lurch to the right, causing her to stumble as she passed through the doorway to the bridge. Bracing herself against the frame, she called out an order with little of her usual storied calm: "Damage report!"

At her position at the forward operations console, Cadet Amy Limietta's fingers flew over the many stacked layers of holographic keyboards and diagnostic windows that cast cool lights over her face. "Reports still coming in, Admiral! Comm systems sustained heavy damage, we're relying on telepathy and person-to-person contact..."

Lindy made her way to the ops station, teetering as the deck heaved once more. "What could have hit us out here?! We're in interdimensional space, there should be nothing here except our own ships..."

"I don't know, Admiral!" Amy's voice was strained with tension. "There was nothing on our sensors, no warnings from the Bureau... this came out of nowhere..."

"Not just normal turbulence, then." Her attempt at humor, dark as it was, fell flat. "Casualties?"

"At least a dozen people reported missing... including Cadet Yagami and the Wolkenritter..."

Lindy's fingers dug into the back of Amy's chair. "Hayate..."

"Whoever or whatever it was knew exactly where to hit us." Amy bit down on her lip to keep her compose. Her wrist was cramping from waving it to dismiss window after window of error messages, but there was no question of stopping now, not until they were in the clear. "We're more or less flying blind. No weapons, no shields, no sensors, comms are shot... we've got life support, navigation, and propulsion, but that's about it."

How?! Possibilities raced through Lindy's mind, each less likely than the last. Only a scant few mages had the ability to disable an L-Class cruiser. Those that did have that much power should have been picked up by sensors long before they could fire off a shot. Every CO's nightmare... their ship in crisis, their crew in danger, and no idea how to respond.

"Images transferring now, Admiral." Amy's thumb punched a series of confirm buttons in sequence. "We've got an exterior view from what we've been able to extrapolate so far..."

The first image flickered to life. Little more than a mass of pixels at first, the picture slowly sharpened, revealing an outside view of the ship. Lindy couldn't help sucking in a breath... there was a massive, ragged wound in the Arthra's side, five meters wide or more by her guess. Visible through the hole were more than a dozen empty quarters sandwiched atop one another, the singed and blackened inner workings of the decks torn open between them. Each quarters was bare of life, of the crewmembers that should have been living there. Everyone and everything inside them had been sucked out into the merciless void when the hull was breached... Lindy clutched her fist behind her back, an Admiral's prayer. No time to mourn, no possibility of retrieving what was lost. Her fallen crew were lucky... exposure to interdimensional space without shielding or a Barrier Jacket was near-instant death. They had not suffered... at least there was that much.

More images resolved before them: the undamaged Arthra from minutes ago, then a great fireball erupting from her side, then a billow of smoke, debris, and escaping air... and-

"Wait," said Lindy. It wasn't possible, but she thought she had seen- "That last one. Magnify and enhance."

Amy ran her hands over the controls. The image blew up, pixelated again, then cleared to reveal-

Lindy's blood turned to ice. "Oh no."

Next to her, Amy's jaw fell open in abject shock. "A-Admiral...?"

Standing on the ragged edge of one of the ruined decks, exposed to the void, was a human figure, a girl... a mage. One that they knew all too well by the shapes of multiple black wings sprouting from her back, the long curtain of silver hair, the red lines tattooing her body. Her Combat Equipment was of a different design than before, but the book she carried under her arm was unmistakable, as was the bitter, shadowy, red and black aura of obscene power that shielded her from the maelstrom she gazed coldly out upon.

Once, briefly, she had been known as Reinforce.

Before that, she had been spoken of in hushed, fearful tones on a million worlds for a thousand years... the black-winged figure whose appearance meant certain doom and unthinkable destruction.

Once, briefly, she had been known as Reinforce, but she was far better known by her title: the Will of the Book of Darkness.

Against all odds, after so much struggle and sacrifice and escaping death by inches, the Book of Darkness had returned.

"Admiral...?" whispered Amy again.

Lindy couldn't answer. The holo's glow bathed her face, gone ghostly pale, as she stared at the Will... at the embodiment of the Lost Logia that had taken her husband from her. It had finally been over, the Book had been purged of its corrupt program and completely destroyed, wiped from existence... but now, somehow, impossibly, it was back.

Heaven help them all, it was back...

END OF CHAPTER 5