I woke up to the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain against the window. It was still dark outside, the soft glow of the early morning light barely piercing through the thick blanket of storm clouds. My back ached from sleeping on a futon next to the couch where Morada lay. The previous day's events rushed back like a chilling gust of wind, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

Morada was still asleep, her breathing steady and her face a little less pale than it had been.

I stood up, moving gingerly so as not to wake the others, and went over to the window. The rain seemed to mirror my thoughts— turbulent, confusing, unending. I leaned against the cool glass, my reflection distorted by the cascading droplets.

Just then, the door creaked open, and I turned to see Natasha walking in, carrying a tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate. She had dark circles under her eyes, a testament to a restless night.

"Couldn't sleep," she said simply, her voice a barely audible whisper over the sound of the rain. She placed the tray on the table and started handing out the mugs, leaving one for me. She settled on the floor beside me, her back against the wall. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the mug, her knuckles white.

I picked up my own mug, the warmth seeping into my hands. The sweet, familiar smell of hot chocolate filled the room, a little slice of comfort in our dreary situation.

I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me. A moment passed, and I glanced at Natasha. She was staring into her mug, her face pale and her eyes glassy. It was a stark reminder of what she'd been through and was still going through.

"Natasha," I said, setting my mug on the table and turning to face her. "You okay?"

She was silent for a moment, her eyes not meeting mine. Then, she slowly lifted her head to look at me, her eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed too heavy for someone our age to bear.

"I... I don't know," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm not... not sure if I'll ever be okay again."

I didn't have a response to that. I mean, what could I possibly say to that? 'You'll get better'? 'Everything's going to be okay'? Empty promises, meaningless platitudes. They wouldn't help her. They wouldn't help any of us.

Instead, I reached out and squeezed her hand gently. A small gesture, but it was all I could offer. She looked at me, a weak smile tugging at her lips.

"Thanks, Ikki," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

A silence fell between us, comfortable, almost peaceful. We sat there, listening to the sound of the rain against the window. Natasha leaned her head against the sofa beside me, breathing steady and shallow.

Just then, my phone buzzed, breaking the tranquility of the moment. I pulled away from Natasha, picking up the device. It was a text from a number that wasn't on my contacts list.

"Meet at the commons at noon?" it read, followed by a little robot emoji.

I sighed, glancing at Natasha, then at Morada and Carrie, both unconscious and vulnerable.

"Hey Nat… I think it'd be a good idea if you stayed home here today," I said softly, not wanting to disturb her peace but knowing I had to.

She looked up at me, a faint frown creasing her brow. "I… you're right, Ikki. My phone's been blowing up all night with the higher-ups looking for me, but I've made it clear to them that I need some time off at a minimum." Her fingers curled around the mug tighter, her gaze falling back to the chocolatey swirl.

"And... and it'd probably be best if you continue to stay off the internet for a while," I added, more hesitantly this time. Natasha had been through enough as it was. Social media had turned into a PR firestorm yesterday, and she had rightfully avoided checking any Magical Girl fan sites or social media. The last thing she needed was to face the speculation of fans and detractors alike commenting on 'A Magical Girl's' public meltdown. Thankfully, her declaration that she was Celestial Sonata was muffled in the videos that'd been taken, but the story of a Magical Girl being bullied into quitting had definitely made it out there.

She nodded, a tired smile on her face. "Yeah, I figured as much," she said, her voice just a murmur. "Honestly, the idea of facing the world after yesterday is terrifying. I'd… I'd rather be here, with you guys."

"That's perfectly understandable," I said, meeting Natasha's eyes. They were dull, resigned even, but I saw a spark of determination there. She was a fighter; she'd always been. And I had faith that she'd get through this, even if she didn't believe it herself. "Look, if you need anything, just call me, okay?

"I will," she assured me, her grip on my hand tightening briefly. It was a small thing, but it offered a hint of the strength I knew she possessed.

I left the house reluctantly, the rain cascading down like a curtain of tears from the heavens. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, anxiety knotting in my stomach. The world of magical girls, of battles and chaos, felt like a storm I'd been sucked into, the eye ever-shifting, the end nowhere in sight.

As I left the house, stepping into the biting chill of the morning rain, I turned to look back at them. Natasha, now alone in the living room, holding her hot chocolate with a wistful expression. Carrie and Talia slept peacefully despite the circumstances. And Morada, still unconscious and wounded but stable. They were all fighting a battle - one that wasn't merely against fantastical creatures and inter-dimensional threats but against our fears and demons as well. And it was a battle that I wasn't going to let them fight alone.

School was... strange, to say the least. Everything was just… normal. Or at least as normal as it could get after yesterday's chaos. Ms. Roth, our history teacher, was still trapped on Earth, so that class was canceled. The storm outside more or less cleared up by lunchtime, leaving a streaky gray sky in its wake. There was a palpable tension hanging heavy in the air. I noticed more than a few people sneaking glances in my direction, their whispers a constant murmur in the background.

But I tried to ignore it all, focusing on why I was here - my meeting with Eugene. I sat alone on a bench on the St Antonia's commons, my fingers drumming against the cold metal surface as I waited. I was halfway through a fancy sirloin sandwich from the lunchroom when I heard a voice from behind me.

"Ikki," he said, plopping down next to me. He was clutching a notebook covered in an assortment of techno-centric stickers.

"Hey Eugene," I replied, putting down my sandwich. "What's up?

The tall, lanky senior tilted his glasses, looking at me with a serious expression. There was a strange sadness in his eyes as he stared at me.

"...Do you know why Magical Girls have teams like us around them, Ikki? Why support teams like us exist? Why the powers that be pluck talented kids from across the world and drop them into programs like this as far back as elementary school?" he finally spoke.

I paused, looking at Eugene. His question was a bit out of the blue. Yet, I could tell from his expression that he wasn't joking around. I thought about it for a second.

"Well," I began, "We're their backbone, aren't we? Magical Girls are powerful, yes, but they are also human. They need our help in many things that don't involve fighting monsters. Strategies, logistics, tech support... you name it."

I glanced at Eugene, trying to gauge his reaction. "We are the bridge between their ordinary and extraordinary lives. Does that answer the question?" I asked, hoping that I had understood his sudden question.

Eugene nodded, pulling out his notepad. I watched him flip through pages filled with programming notes and equations, stopping at a blank page. He looked up, his gaze steady on me.

"Yeah, that's part of it." He paused, his pen tapping against the page. "But it's more than that. It's about perspective. About understanding."

I looked at him, puzzled. "Understanding?"

Eugene nodded, leaning back on the bench. "Yeah. Look, the bulk of these Magical Girls, they're kids like us, right? And they're dealing with things most adults can't even begin to comprehend. It's better for them to have someone who's on their wavelength, someone who can understand what they're going through."

I looked at him, my mind whirling. "So you're saying we're here to... just be their friends?"

"More than that, Ikki," Eugene said, turning to look at me. "We're here to help them carry the burden. To be there when things get rough. And yes, to be their friends. Because, at the end of the day, that's what they need more than fancy drones, hackers, mages, and social experts. A friend who understands."

Eugene cut himself off, sighing heavily as he leaned back on the bench, staring at the school grounds. I waited, watching him, my sandwich forgotten. After a moment, he continued, "Most adults can't even begin to relate half the stuff on their plate. They're dealing with stress, trauma, the weight of the world on their shoulders. But the thing is, they're still just kids and teenagers like us. So they need someone who understands, someone who can relate to them."

I sat there, absorbing his words. I thought of Natasha, her heart-wrenching confession, and the darkness that consumed her. I thought of my sister Izumi, battered and broken but still fighting. And I realized that Eugene was right. They needed friends. They needed us.

I nodded, understanding dawning on me. "And that's why we're here."

"Exactly. It's fucked up, but we're not just nice to have around, we're absolutely vital to keep them grounded and sane." He flashed me a brief, half-hearted smile before looking down at his notebook again. "I just wanted you to remember that, Ikki. Especially with whatever's going on with Natasha. She's going to need a friend. And not just any friend, but someone who knows, who understands what she's going through. Heck, I'm a genius, but I don't need to be one to see that one of the strongest girls on this side of the world has been riding solo for way too long. I spent all night replaying and breaking down the phone video of her argument with Caroline after Natasha announced to the world that she's Celestial Sonata, you know? It's obvious she's been spiraling for a while."

His words echoed in my mind. Eugene wasn't wrong. Natasha had been dealing with her struggles alone for a long time. That had to change.

"Look," Eugene continued, glancing at me through the corner of his eye, "I don't know what's happening with Natasha. You're closer to her than anyone else. But if you need any help... you know, infosec related, I'm here. If you need any heavy duty gear for Magical Girls, Ivan and Enya have hookups. Remember that we're there. That we're all on the same side. Humanity's side. Just remember that."

"Thanks, Eugene." I felt a lump forming in my throat, a mix of gratitude and something else, something harder to define. "That means a lot to me."

He simply nodded, a small smile appearing on his face, his gaze focused on his notepad again.

"I won't lie, Ikki. I'm worried too," he confessed, his voice almost a whisper, blending with the ambient noise of the high school around us. "Celestial Sonata is a symbol of hope to me and many others. Knowing how she was treated this entire time in hindsight. Right under our noses. She's... not okay. And she needs you, whether she wants to admit it or not."

"I know," I murmured, staring blankly toward the distant park Natasha usually hid in. "...I know."

He nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between us. He understood the weight that had settled on my shoulders. And I understood his role, our role, in all of this.

I took a deep breath, looking out at the schoolyard. A chill breeze rustled the leaves, bringing the faint smell of rain. Life was moving on, the world continuing in its usual rhythm. Yet for us, for Natasha and the rest, it was anything but typical.

And as I sat there, sandwich in hand, my mind a whirl of thoughts and fears, I realized something. I wasn't alone in this. We weren't alone. We were in this together, a ragtag team of friends, classmates, and kids, really, who were facing unimaginable odds.

But despite it all, I couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. Because at the end of the day, we had each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The world of magical girls wasn't just about dazzling powers and fighting Chaos monsters. It was about friendship, about solidarity. About a bunch of kids trying to make sense of an insane reality while juggling calculus homework and surviving high school social politics.

Eugene's words struck a chord in me, giving me a new perspective on my role in this mad world. It wasn't just about being a techie wiz kid for the Magical Girls or playing chauffeur on a flying motorcycle. It was about being there, really being there, for the ones who needed it the most.

It wasn't going to be easy; I knew that. I had my own demons to deal with, and I didn't have the answers to all of my friends' problems. But I also knew that I was going to try, and I wasn't going to let her face this alone.

As Eugene packed his notebook and stood up, I looked at him. "Hey, Eugene?" I called, causing him to pause and turn to look at me. "Thanks for the talk."

"Any time, Ikki," he replied with a grin. "Also… I think it'd be good to catch up with Enya at the lab in a bit. She's been dying to get another look at you since we detected that aetheric anomaly."

"Enya?" I asked, my brows lifting. I'd nearly forgotten about the drama surrounding the tech crew with all the craziness that'd happened back home. "Yeah… sure. I'll stop by the lab after school."

Eugene nodded, looking satisfied. "Great, she's looking forward to it." With a casual wave, he picked up his backpack and headed back toward the main building. I watched him go, my mind still spinning with our conversation.

I let out a sigh, glancing down at my half-eaten sandwich. Suddenly, I wasn't all that hungry anymore. I grabbed my bag and made my way to my next class, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

I found myself wandering aimlessly after the last bell rang, the deserted halls echoing with the whispers of students who'd rushed out to enjoy what was left of their day. I could see them outside, some lounging around, some hurriedly heading home, their figures hazy through the rain-speckled windows.

Finally, I made my way toward the Robotics lab, tucked away in an auxiliary school building. The place was usually a bustling hub of activity, filled with students working on various projects. But today, the area was unusually quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of machinery and the occasional beep of a computer.

I found Enya in the corner of the room, her head bent over a cluttered workbench.

"Ikki!" she exclaimed, standing up. "I've been waiting for you! Eugene told me about your little chat. Everyone in the business here has been worried sick about Celestial Sonata after that spectacle yesterday, you know?"

I didn't know why, but hearing people refer to Natasha as Celestial Sonata after she publicly quit yesterday was starting to rub me the wrong way.

"You mean Natasha," I corrected a lump in my throat. "She's not Celestial Sonata. Not anymore. I think, at least."

Enya blinked, then nodded, a somber understanding crossing her face. "I see... Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about that, Ikki."

"I shook my head, a weary smile on my face. "It's not your fault, Enya. But we need to remember she's human too. She's not just a Magical Girl, she's... she's just Natasha, you know? Beneath all of that bravado and heroism."

The expression on Enya's face said more than words could. Her usual fiery, no-nonsense demeanor had been replaced by a somber, sympathetic look harder to stomach than any robotic tech talk.

"I came here for something else though," I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. "Eugene mentioned you wanted to check my bio-aetheric field?"

Enya seemed to hesitate momentarily, her gaze darting to the mess of circuitry spread out before her. "Right... it's a bit complicated. So, after the Raiju network started behaving oddly, we decided to run a full diagnostic scan following your usage history and your aetheric imprint. And we found something... unusual."

"Unusual how?" I asked, feeling my heart rate pick up a notch.

She gestured for me to come closer and pointed to a holographic display showing an intricate pattern of colors and lines. "Do you see this fun little visualized pattern here?" She pointed to a section of the pattern that looked slightly different from the rest.

"Yeah," I said, squinting at the display.

"This is a reaction in Raiju's data core triggered by a reaction to your bio-aetheric field," she explained. "This here," she pointed at the anomaly, "is something I've never seen before. It's... well, it's an anomaly. We don't know what it means yet."

I blinked, not sure what to make of it. "So, what? Is this something to worry about?"

She shrugged. "I honestly don't know. It could be something... or it could be nothing at all. We just don't have enough data yet. That's why we wanted you here, to run more tests and try to understand what's happening. What I can tell you for sure, though, is that this data point appeared when you were ejected from the proxy drone as you pursued the Harbingers of the Dawn upstate."

Enya's voice trailed off as her gaze lingered on the flickering display. A hushed silence fell over the room. I could hear the rhythmic hum of machinery, the whir of a cooling fan, and the faint tapping of keys from a distant workstation. The weight of her words pressed down on me, sobering in their implications.

"In other words, the Project Raiju core received a significant data spike from the incident. Perhaps it triggered a hidden protocol or function we weren't aware of. Spencer may have converted it to a golem with Annie's expertise, but we got the prototype from a salvaged Sisyphus project," Enya mused, her fingers tapping on the table. Her brows furrowed as she bit her lower lip, a clear sign of her deep thought.

"But," she sighed, "It's all speculation at this point."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, rubbing the back of my neck as I tried to make sense of it all. It was just another unknown to add to the growing pile.

"So, what now?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Now," she said, flipping a switch on the table, "we run more tests, analyze the data, and hope we find something that makes sense. I might have to reach out to the Balor Institute directly for more information."

"Okay," I said, nodding. "Just... keep me posted, alright?"

"Administrator Enya," a Raiju orb chimed from across the room, its lights pulsating in rhythm with its speech. "The preliminary aetheric scan is ready to proceed."

I huffed, glancing at the myriad of equipment spread across the room. A knot of unease coiled in my gut. But I quashed it, nodding at Enya. "Let's do it."

An hour later, we wrapped up the scanning session. Enya had been pretty quiet throughout, her gaze flicking between the data screens and me.

"Thanks for your patience, Ikki," Enya finally spoke, her voice echoing in the room. "I know it's not the most comfortable process."

"No problem," I replied, shaking off the lingering discomfort from the scan as I threw my shirt back on. "I just want to know what's been going on. What's been going around us in general, really. It's been insane to say the least, Enya."

There was an awkward silence, the air between us heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"You're really stepping up, Ikki," she suddenly said, her eyes meeting mine. "You're doing a lot for Natasha... for your team. For all of us, really."

"Am I?" I chuckled, a bitter edge to my voice. "Feels more like I'm just... stumbling in the dark. I mean, yeah, we've got Raiju, the Club, all this... tech, and I guess that's something." I gestured vaguely at the room around us. "But at the end of the day, I don't really know what I'm doing. Things got bad on the other side of the portal, you know? I couldn't do anything for my sisters. For my team. It feels like I'm just... playing pretend. "

"I don't think that's true," she responded with a soft but firm conviction. "You may not have all the answers, Ikki. Hell, you might not even have the right questions. But you're trying, and that counts for something. And you're not alone. We're in this together."

"Yeah?" I murmured, my gaze dropping to the floor. "Together, huh?"

We stood silently for a moment, the hum of the machines filling the quiet. I took a deep breath, tucking my hands into my pockets.

"I should go, Enya," I finally said, breaking the silence. "I've got a lot to think about."

She nodded, her fingers returning to her keyboard. "Of course, Ikki. You go and do what you need to do. Just remember, we're here for you. For both of you. Okay? Magical Girl cells do cross-pollinate sometimes, and I think it might be time for your generation of scholarship students to get together. I can arrange something."

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed, unsure if I meant it. It was one thing to lean on the tech crews a bit, but another entirely to rope in entire other cells.

Enya gave me a firm nod. "Of course, Ikki. And remember, we won't tell anyone about your little issue unless you say it's okay. You've got enough on your plate without having to manage the rumor mill. This stays in the lab."

I let out a breath, my heart lightening just a fraction. "Thanks, Enya. I appreciate that."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," I conceded, feeling the day's weight pressing down on my shoulders. I needed sleep, but my mind was a jumbled mess of worries and unanswered questions.

Maybe if I got home, got some food, and sat down for a bit, things would start to make sense.

I got up and swung my backpack over my shoulder. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks for... everything." I turned to leave but stopped at the door, glancing back at her. "And Enya?"

She looked up, her brows arching in question.

"Take care of yourself too," I said, offering her a weary but genuine smile.

She paused, her gaze softening as she nodded. "Right, Ikki. Thank you too."

With a final nod to Enya, I left the lab. The hallway outside was just as quiet as before, the echo of my steps a stark reminder of my solitude.

As I walked, my mind kept wandering back to Natasha, to the look on her face when we brought her home. She'd looked so small, so lost.

With that, I left the lab, the door hissing shut behind me. I sighed, looking up at the early evening sky. It was a cloudy night, but the first few stars were beginning to twinkle through the parting clouds, casting their feeble light upon the world. I clutched the strap of my bag, my thoughts whirling.

I had questions, fears, and doubts. We all did. But Eugene and Enya were right. We were a team, a strange assembly of kids tasked with navigating a world that didn't make sense, a world that was far too big and scary. And right now, all of us needed each other more than ever.

As I headed home, my head was a cyclone of thoughts, theories, and anxieties. My sister's disappearance, Talia's health, Midori's unknown status, Morada's injuries... and Natasha.

The rain had held off so far, but there was a heaviness in the air, a promise of a downpour. I could taste the oncoming storm on the wind, a sense of electricity that mirrored the tension sparking within me. A siren call of chaos, reflecting my own tumultuous thoughts.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when I felt a force like a runaway freight train slam into me, pushing me into a brick wall. The air whooshed out of my lungs, and for a moment, all I could do was gasp and wince in pain.

Blinking, I managed to focus on the figure looming over me. An all-too-familiar jackass with a slick preppy black haircut and striking purple eyes, his face twisted in concern and anger.

"Where's my sister, Ikki?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "What have you done with her?"

"I..." I coughed, trying to regain my breath. I straightened up, meeting his glare with as much resolve as possible. "I haven't done anything to her, Willis."

"Then where is she?" He persisted, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Carrie was last seen riding off with you. And she hasn't contacted me since. You expect me to believe that's a coincidence?"

Oh, for fucks’ sake.

My mind spun, desperately trying to piece together an explanation that wouldn't inflame the situation further. "Look, Willis," I began, "we just... we had to take care of Natasha. Carrie's fine."

"Take care of Natasha?" His eyes narrowed, suspicion igniting. "And what exactly happened to Natasha? What was that spectacle yesterday?"

I hesitated, realizing I'd put my foot in my mouth. I couldn't exactly tell him about the bridge, Natasha's despair, and Carrie's part in it. Our little truce didn't mean I forgot how Carrie treated Natasha.

"We ran into a bit of a... situation," I began, choosing my words carefully. "Carrie's helping Natasha get through it."

There was a moment of silence as Willis processed my words, his face a mix of concern and frustration.

"A situation?" he repeated, the wind whipping through his hair. "You're gonna have to do better than that. Watch yourself, Ikki."

He was right. My vague explanation wouldn't cut it. But how much could I tell him? How much would he even believe? Willis was an asshole, sure, but he was also Natasha's friend.

I let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the situation. "Listen, Willis," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "My sister got hurt last week. It was a bit of a breaking point, and Natasha had a... breakdown. I don't know what else to call it. She's safe, she's at my place. And Carrie... She's there, too. Helping."

"A breakdown? And Carrie is helping her?" He repeated incredulously. His confusion was evident, but there was something else there. Doubt and suspicion? Willis wasn't nearly as clueless as he made himself out to be with his overbearing persona.

"Look," I said, shrugging. "I don't know what else to tell you. Carrie's okay. She's safe."

For a moment, Willis was silent, digesting the information. His face was a mask, impossible to read.

"Didn't I tell you not to get involved with them, you little shit?" He shot back, balling his fists. "What did I tell you? Natasha broke down because of your fucking bullshit?"

"That's not—" I started, but Willis didn't let me finish.

Willis moved faster than I could react, one hand reaching for my collar, the other swinging into my face like a blur.

His fist connected hard, and the world spun around me. The pain exploded through my jaw, and I could taste coppery blood on my tongue.

But I wasn't out yet. I stumbled, blinking stars out of my eyes, and looked at Willis. His face was twisted in anger, in concern for his sister and Natasha. It was an ugly look.

"Don't you dare blame this on me, Willis!" I snapped, swiping my lip. "I didn't drive Natasha to this. I didn't bully her, andmake her feel like she was worthless for three damn years! I didn't leave her alone when she needed love and support!"

I knew I'd shot myself in the foot with that comment, but I didn't care.

A gust of wind swept in my direction, and Willis was in my face again in a blur. His hand reared back, the air around us crackling with unbridled magical energy. The older boy's purple eyes were blazing with fury and hatred.

"Raiju, full defense!" I ordered, bracing myself for the next blow.

Willis's fist came crashing into a blue energy shield, sparks flying as he recoiled. He staggered back, surprise flashing across his face. "What the--?"

I squared up and threw an overhand right uppercut directly into his jaw, causing him to stumble back in shock. He quickly regained his stance and leaned over to glare at me with a snarl.

I'd grown an inch or two in height over the last three months thanks to Midori and Talia, but Willis Kong was still older and stronger than me. He was more powerful in every sense of the word, down to his family.

I should've been afraid. I knew I was probably outmatched.

But all my frustrations, anxieties, and anger were boiling over beyond belief. The torrent of vicious, pent-up rage and emotions left no room for fear.

Willis had treated me like a punching bag up to this point, and oh boy, did I want to punch back.

"You've got it then, Willis," I spat, my voice trembling with anger. "If you want to scrap, then let's fucking go."