Unlike history class, the eighty-minute multivariable calculus lecture was drama-free and a pretty standard-fare introductory lecture. The sound of pencils scribbling on paper and the faint hum of the humidity controls were the only things that filled the room. Everything was calm, methodical, and... well, predictable. It was a surprisingly welcome change after the rollercoaster of a morning I'd had.

I slouched in my seat, my gaze drifting over the equations scrawled across the digital blackboard. Mr. Mousavi, our teacher, was a no-nonsense kind of guy, with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a stern look that could make even the rowdiest student think twice about acting up. He moved through the lecture smoothly, like he'd done it a thousand times. Unfortunately, calculus was calculus, and his intro lecture on basic parametric equations and polar coordinates had all the entertainment value of a snail crawling across a sidewalk. But hey, at least he knew his stuff and could articulate it well.

There weren't a lot of first-year students who had placed past high school algebra and calculus like I had, so the room was filled with a mixed bag of students. Most of them were older, probably students in their third year or the post-secondary specialization program.

My history class was the complete opposite of my experience in calculus. History discussions were dynamic and constantly provided new viewpoints, while calculus was simply...calculus. The problems were theoretical, the solutions definitive, and the steps to solving them as predictable as the sunrise. However, there was a sense of security in this predictability, a sense of order.

I glanced around the room, taking in my classmates. There was a guy two rows ahead, a boy with neon green hair, scribbling away in his notebook with intense focus. Next to him was a girl with short electric blue hair, looking completely and utterly bored as she played with a magitech device under the table. Their contrasting attitudes perfectly captured the high school experience - some were eager to learn, while others just wanted to get by.

In front of me were twins with fiery orange hair that seemed almost unnatural, even on Earth. They whispered and shared notes, occasionally sneaking glances at me with curious expressions. I wondered if they had heard about the new kid from Earth or if they were just gossiping.

To my left was a girl with long silver hair tightly braided, diligently working on the problems Mr. Mousavi had written on the board. She was completely immersed in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but admire her focus; it was clear that calculus was her forte.

And then there was the boy a few seats away from me, wearing a baggy tech wear jacket and sunglasses that seemed to absorb all light around him. He never looked up from his notebook, which he filled with fluid pen strokes. I couldn't help but wonder what he was writing down - was it notes for class or something else entirely?

Then, my eyes landed on the one person in the room I hadn't expected to be there with me.

She sat on the opposite end of the room, diagonally from where I was positioned. Her hair draped elegantly over her shoulders, and she carried herself with effortless poise in her neatly pressed uniform. She jotted down notes in a leather notebook, her face focused and determined. Despite our intense exchange earlier that day, she paid me no mind during the entire lecture.

That person, of course, was Caroline.

It was hard to believe that the same Caroline from this morning was the one sitting in front of me now. She embodied the perfect model student - attentive and serious. Every once in a while, she would tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, without ever looking my way.

Despite my efforts to pay attention to the lesson, I couldn't shake off the memory of our earlier altercation with Caroline. How could someone be so confrontational and arrogant one moment, only to completely ignore me in class? It was like she had flipped a switch, morphing into a completely different person.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and soon enough, the class came to an end. Mr. Mousavi concluded his lecture and dismissed us, reminding us of next week's assignment. The students around me gathered their things and started filing out of the classroom.

I hesitated, unsure of the best course of action. Should I approach Caroline and try to talk things out? Come to an understanding? Or should I just leave it be and continue avoiding her?

I furrowed my brows and made a quick decision to maintain my distance from her. The confrontation this morning was still fresh in my mind, and I wasn't looking to start round three. I slanged my bag over my shoulder and stood up, glancing in her direction one last time.

Caroline was already on her feet, holding her notebook close to her chest. Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I could see a hint of frustration and recognition in her expression before it turned cold and distant. She didn't say anything, just turned and left the classroom with her head held high. Letting out a sigh, I followed the rest of the students out of the room, feeling both relieved and frustrated by the situation.

Caroline was an enigma to me, but maybe that was the whole point. Either way, this wasn't the time to get involved in whatever drama she had going on. I came here with a purpose - to learn, grow, and find a way to better my family's lives. Getting caught up in high school drama wasn't part of my plan.

Still, being in this class meant that she was probably a smart cookie - at least academically. I didn't know how many other first-year students were in this advanced calculus class, but the fact that she was here, taking notes diligently, said something about her. Weirdly, it was almost reassuring to know that Caroline had more to her going than just an awful attitude. It made her seem more... real, I guess.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me of the next challenge in my day - lunch. The school brochures had boasted about the gourmet food prepared by professional chefs in the cafeteria. As a scholarship recipient, I wouldn't have access to the high-end options that wealthier students enjoyed, but it would still be a major upgrade from the canned beans and instant noodles I was used to at home. I navigated through the crowded hallways, following the signs that pointed towards the cafeteria. It didn't take long for me to reach the bustling dining area, where students were chatting, laughing, and savoring their meals.

As I pushed open the heavy oak doors to the dining hall, my senses were immediately overwhelmed by rich and tantalizing aromas. The scent of freshly baked bread, tangy sauces, and savory meats flooded my nostrils, a stark contrast to the bland meals I was used to back on Earth. My eyes scanned the bustling room, taking in the long counters filled with a variety of dishes, students chatting while holding trays, and the sound of sizzling grills coming from the open kitchen area.

With a tray in hand, I joined the line and marveled at the abundance of food options before me. Even the "basic" meal plan seemed luxurious compared to what I had grown up with. Glancing up at the digital screens suspended from the ceiling, I saw mouthwatering dishes like 'A5 Earth Wagyu with Porcini Mushroom Reduction' and 'Seared Dodo with Truffle Butter'. Swiping my student ID at the entrance, I entered a world of gourmet cuisine with racks of perfectly grilled meats and seafood, all expertly served by smiling staff in crisp uniforms.

Compared to the limited options I had while growing up, even the basic buffet on my meal plan felt like a luxurious feast. The menu included hearty stews, grilled vegetables, various types of pasta, and a bar filled with intricately crafted salads that looked straight out of a fancy restaurant. As I made my way through the cafeteria line, my stomach grumbled in anticipation as I loaded my tray with a portion of beef stew, some roasted potatoes, grilled salmon, and a small salad.

Looking at the steamy and wholesome food in front of me, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disbelief and guilt. Back home, a meal like this was reserved for special occasions; now it was just a regular option in my daily routine. I thought about my little sister who was always so thin and bony, her eyes would light up at the sight of such a spread. She would probably dive into the stew without hesitation and down three bowls before even touching anything else - it was always her favorite comfort food. The thought of her one day enjoying a meal like this brought a smile to my face.

I shook my head, pushing away the flood of homesickness that threatened to engulf me. I knew I couldn't dwell on the past or the people I had left behind. This was a rare opportunity for me to make something of myself, and I couldn't afford to get lost in my thoughts.

Finding an empty seat in the bustling dining hall proved difficult. My eyes darted around, searching for any available spot. The long tables were mostly occupied by chatty groups of students, but every time I thought I found an open space, it turned out to be taken.

Finally, after much searching, I came across a small vacant table by the window. From there, I could see the school grounds basking in the warm sunlight and the river beyond. The water sparkled under the midday sun, creating a peaceful backdrop. I settled down at the table with my tray of food, feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was hard not to notice how easily all the other students were socializing and laughing together, while I sat alone at my table.

Taking a bite of the stew, I was hit with a burst of flavors that made my taste buds dance. It was rich, hearty, and filled with chunks of tender beef that melted in my mouth. The roasted potatoes were perfectly seasoned, crisp on the outside, and fluffy on the inside. Even the salad was a revelation, fresh and crisp with a light, tangy dressing.

I savored each mouthful, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. For a moment, I forgot about my problems and allowed myself to simply enjoy the meal in front of me.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice shattered my solitude. "Hey! Found you!"

I jolted in surprise and looked up to see Midori standing there, her black locks cascading around her face and shoulders. Her bright eyes glimmered with mischief as she stood confidently in her slightly off-tilt uniform. She wore it with a certain flair, the blazer sleeves rolled up just so and a colorful green bandana tied around her wrist. Midori was the embodiment of carefree confidence, and the sight of her made me smile.

There was something electric about her presence, like a live wire cutting through the air.

Her grin was infectious, and despite the surprise of her sudden appearance, I couldn't help but feel a bit relieved at the company. There was something about Midori's energy that was hard to ignore – it was as if her presence alone could light up the room.

"So, what's the verdict?" she asked, nodding towards my tray with her arms crossed. "Is the food here living up to the hype?"

I chuckled, swallowing another bite of the stew. "It's definitely exceeding my expectations," I replied, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "I mean, back home, we were lucky if we had enough to eat, let alone food this delicious."

Midori's eyes softened for a moment, and there was a flicker of understanding in her gaze. "I can't imagine what that must've been like," she said quietly. "But hey, you're here now, right?"

I shook my head, "Yeah... I guess. My Dad always worked so hard to provide for my sister and me, but it was never enough," I admitted, my voice filled with gratitude and guilt.

Midori's expression turned sympathetic as she listened, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "Sometimes life deals us a tough hand," she said softly. "But it's what we make of it that truly matters."

I nodded, my gaze lingering on Midori's face. There was a certain wisdom in her eyes, as if she had seen her fair share of hardships and come out stronger on the other side. It made me curious about her own story, about the experiences that brought her to this moment.

"You're right," I said, mustering a small smile. "However, looking after my little sister was always my top priority."

If I had to be completely honest with myself, I felt guilty that my sister couldn't experience the same luxuries I now had access to. It weighed heavily on my heart, knowing she was back home, struggling to make ends meet and probably going without proper meals. She and my dad definitely had to tighten the budget to send me to school, and even though it was a sacrifice they made, I couldn't help but feel like I was leaving them behind in a world of hardship and struggle.

"Now that I'm here, it's hard not to worry about her," I confessed, my voice laced with concern. "I want her to have a better life too, but it feels like a distant dream."

Midori's eyes filled with empathy as she listened, her voice softening. "A little sister, huh? That's really sweet, Ikki," she said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "It sounds like you've been carrying a lot for someone your age."

I shrugged, trying to mask the sudden surge of emotion. "It's just what you do, right? For family."

She looked away momentarily, her expression distant, as if she was recalling something. "Yeah, family…" she murmured, almost to herself. Her voice had a hint of sadness, a depth that seemed out of place with her upbeat demeanor.

The moment passed quickly, and Midori was back to her cheerful self. "So, tell me about your sister! What's her name? What does she like?" she asked, her curiosity genuine.

"Her name is Izumi," I replied, mentioning her name and bringing me a smile. "Calling her a tomboy would be a bit of an understatement. She's always been more interested in climbing trees and pulling pranks than collecting dolls or dresses. She's got this obnoxious but infectious laugh that can lighten up a room, and she's always curious about everything. I think she'd love to explore this city if she could get a chance to. Come to think of it, you do remind me of her - but way more mature?"

Midori laughed, a sound that echoed through our little corner of the dining hall. "You think I'm more mature? Well, you haven't seen me on a hoverboard then," she said with a playful wink. "But Izumi sounds like a handful—someone I would definitely get along with. I have a feeling she'd have a wonderful reaction if I did her hair. I know the type."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Midori attempting to style my sister's wild, chronically unruly hair. It was true that Izumi would definitely be a handful for anyone, but I knew she would also find a kindred spirit in Midori. They both had that adventurous spark that seemed to ignite everything around them.

"She'd probably kick and scream before having you tie it up in the craziest ponytail imaginable," I said, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "But deep down, I think she'd secretly love it. And hey, if you ever want to meet her, I'm sure she'd be thrilled. She's always had a weird relationship with the girls in our lives. I couldn't blame her, really. Growing up in a household dominated by me and my Dad, she never had female role models to look up to. We moved around way too much for that."

Midori's eyes lit up and giggled at the suggestion. "I would love to meet her! It sounds like we'd make quite the duo," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious. "I'd take her on all kinds of wild adventures, getting into all sorts of mischief around the city."

A warmth spread through my chest at the thought of Midori and Izumi becoming friends. I had a gut feeling that Midori was the type of person she needed in her life. Even if Midori apparently had some sort of history supporting a cell of Magical Girls, I couldn't shake the feeling that she also carried a sense of protectiveness and loyalty within her.

Getting her connected with Izumi was easier said than done, of course. The portals between Terra and Earth were tightly controlled, and the chances of bringing Izumi to this world were slim unless I established myself as a citizen.

"Hey, so um..." I started, hesitating as the sheer terror of being kidnapped at the bank and taken to the pier flashed through my head. "I never got the chance to thank you properly for... last week."

Midori waved her hand dismissively, but there was a tenderness in her eyes. "It was nothing, really. You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you? You didn't exactly sit back on your hands either."

I did pick up one of their rifles and managed to fire off a few shots at the men when she gave us an opening, but I couldn't deny that Midori had been the one to save the day. She had taken down the leader of the group with a scary level of skill.

I nodded earnestly. "I mean, I would if I had the ability to. I just... I still can't believe you took on all those guys like that. You were incredible. You saved my life."

Her gaze drifted away momentarily, and a fleeting melancholy appeared in her eyes. For a second, I thought I saw a reflection of deep, personal loss there. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual lively expression.

She quickly masked it with her usual smile. "Let's just say I've had a bit of practice," she replied, keeping her tone breezy.

That practice had definitely paid off, and I couldn't deny that her skills were impressive. But there was something about her response that made me wonder if there was more to her story than what she let on. I wanted to ask more, to understand what lay beneath that veneer of cheerfulness.

"So, how about you, Midori? What's your story? You don't have to tell me if you don't have to, but I'm really curious about last week."

Midori's smile faltered momentarily, a hint of shadow crossing her eyes before she recovered with her characteristic grin.

"My story, huh? Well, even if I told you I'd skip the nitty gritty details. It's a long one filled with unexpected twists and turns," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of mystery.

I raised an eyebrow, not convinced. "Come on, you can't just drop a line like that and expect me to not be curious."

She chuckled, the sound a bit more forced than usual. "I suppose you're right," she sighed, her cheerfulness fading just a bit. "I'm pretty open with the abridged version when people ask, anyway. It's just there are literally details I am forbidden to share, for the safety of everyone involved."

My curiosity was piqued, but I respected Midori's boundaries. It was clear that she had her reasons for keeping certain things hidden.

Midori took a deep breath, as if gathering her thoughts. "Well, I suppose I can give you the abridged version," she said.

"Alright, alright. So, I grew up in Edo, you know, Terra's version of Tokyo. It's a beautiful place with all old-world charm and traditions. I think I was pretty lucky to grow up there, all things considered."

I nodded, intrigued. "What was that like? I've only ever seen pictures that made their way across the portal, but it looks like a city full of history and culture."

Midori's gaze drifted as if she were seeing a faraway place. "It's like stepping into another time. Everything is so... preserved. Ancient temples, traditional teahouses, the works. And the cherry blossoms in spring, they're something else. I heard Earth's version of Edo was destroyed in some kind of 'world war' and had to be rebuilt, yeah? Became some kind of tech hub eventually?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Tokyo was heavily bombed during World War II and pretty much burned to the ground. It lost a ton of its historical buildings."

Midori nodded, her expression somber. "It's amazing how different two cities can be just across the portal , huh?" she mused, her eyes lingering in the distance. "But anyway, growing up in Edo was... well, it was magical. There's this sense of reverence for tradition and culture that permeates everything. I remember going to festivals and watching the fireworks light up the night sky, surrounded by people wearing yukatas and carrying paper lanterns. It felt like being part of something bigger than myself."

I leaned forward, captivated by her words. "That sounds incredible. I've always wanted to experience something like that."

Midori's smile softened, her eyes shining with nostalgia and longing. "You should, someday. It's an experience like no other. But, as much as I loved Edo, part of me always yearned for something different beyond traditional confines."

Curiosity sparked within me. "What do you mean?"

Her voice dropped to a secretive tone as if sharing a secret only meant for my ears. "See, the thing with Terra is that we globalized almost a century before you guys, right? Worrying about Aberrations and stuff deterred outright colonialism and subjugation from the big maritime powers like the Brits and Chinese, so there's a lot of diversity in cultures and ideas. While Edo was beautiful and will always be home for me, I felt like there was a whole world out there that I was missing out on," she explained, her gaze flickering with an adventurous spark.

I nodded, understanding her restlessness. "So, you wanted to see more of the world?"

"Exactly," Midori replied, her voice filled with a newfound energy. "I'm not actually a native English speaker, but I went to an international school in Edo and picked it up through immersion. I was fascinated by different cultures, languages, and the notion of exploring beyond the confines of my hometown. So, after finishing my primary education, I chose to continue my studies in one of Terra's Global Cities - Zhou Ling City."

My knowledge of Terran geography was limited, but I did know that certain cities were strategically built to promote global unity and quickly mobilize troops in response to Aberrant threats. Zhou Ling - or 'Jo Lun' as it was sometimes spelled - was located in Southern China and was one such city. Its unique blend of cultures from all corners of the world made it famous for its diversity. It was the equivalent of a Hong Kong or a Singapore.

"That's a huge leap," I said, impressed. "What was it like, moving to JL?"

Midori's face lit up with the memory. "Oh, it was a complete culture shock at first, but in the best way possible. The city is a real melting pot - people from all corners of Terra, each bringing their own customs, languages, and cuisines. It was so different from the uniformity of Nippon. I learned so much, not just academically, but about life and people. It helped shape who I am today."

I could see the passion in her eyes as she spoke, and it struck me how much she had experienced and grown. "It must've been amazing to be exposed to so many different perspectives," I mused.

"It was," she agreed, her tone becoming more reflective. "It opened my eyes to how vast and varied the world is. It's one thing to learn about it in books, but it's another to live it, you know? Believe it or not, I was a bit of a stuffy and ice-cold bitch just a couple of years ago," Midori admitted with a chuckle. "But living in Zhou Ling, meeting people from all walks of life, especially Talia… it changed me. Made me more open, more empathetic."

I laughed, trying to picture Midori as anything but the vibrant, outgoing person she was now. "Honestly, it's hard to imagine you being all cold and aloof.

She grinned. "Yeah, well, people change. Experiences change people, you know? The city defined me. It's like... you peel off layers of who you thought you were and discover new parts of yourself."

There was a brief silence as we both contemplated her words. Then, Midori's expression turned playful. "All I cared about back when I first landed in that city was duty and getting stronger to protect my family and what I believed in. But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs at you."

I nodded, relating to her words more than she could know. "Yeah... tell me about it," I said, thinking about how insane the last couple of weeks had been. "Still, with the way you handled those robbers last week, I have a feeling you can handle anything life throws at you."

Midori chuckled, but there was a hint of something else in her laugh.

"I guess I've still got it, to an extent. Back then I was all study, study, train, train! I was so focused on becoming stronger, on being the best I could be. But now, I've learned that there's more to life." she reflected, the light in her eyes dimming ever so slightly. "I was driven, maybe too much. Sometimes, I wonder what drives people to push themselves to such limits."

I leaned in closer, my curiosity piqued. "So, what changed?"

Her eyes gleamed with a sudden twitch of sorrow. "Love. Not in the romantic sense, but the love for people you'd do anything for. You see, I come from a pretty… prominent family in Yamato – think gentry and all that," she began, pausing momentarily as her gaze shifted to something distant, unseeable.

"I wasn't particularly talented in Terran magic. That was my little brother's forte. He was..." Midori's voice trailed off, and her usual vibrancy seemed to dim for a brief moment.

Memories of a painful loss flickered in her eyes, but she quickly composed herself and continued. "Anyways, I always had this strong need to protect our people. To prove myself, to be strong in other ways."

She stretched out her cheeks with her hands, making a funny face. "Honor and duty above all else! Goodness knows, ten year old me could have given the Holy Roman Empress a run for her money with my stiff upper lip," she quipped, mocking herself.

Midori coughed lightly, regaining her composure. "As it turned out, I was very physically gifted all around, and just good enough with both internal and external ki to push beyond my limits. On top of that, I had naturally high Chaos Resistance. So, I developed an obsession with becoming stronger, better. It was all I could think about back then."

I listened intently as she continued, "Combat sports are very popular on Terra, you know? People flock to arenas and stadiums to see skilled fighters going at it. I was drawn to contact fencing like a moth to a flame, craving the adrenaline rush that came with each victory."

Midori's voice took on a somber tone, her words carrying the weight of past struggles and triumphs. "I trained tirelessly, pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion, always striving for perfection. The satisfaction of a well-executed strike, the cheers from the proud instructors and parents it became intoxicating. But amidst all the accolades that I was letting get to my head, I lost sight of why I started in the first place."

She chuckled, "You have to forgive a girl. Between all the tutoring and expectations from my family, swordplay and naginata were my only forms of rebellion. It was my way of asserting my own identity and proving that I was more than just the first daughter of the family. I had my head up my ass, of course. I was still obsessed with propriety and reputation, but at least I had found an outlet for my frustrations. That was until I met Arash."

Midori's voice softened, tinged with a hint of longing. "Arash was a remarkable swordsman. He had this air of confidence and power that drew me in like a magnet. We actually met because... I got off on the wrong foot with his sister."

I couldn't help but lean in closer, captivated by Midori's story. "What happened?" I asked, eager to hear the rest.

Midori sighed, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "Well, let's just say I made a fool of myself. She and I were both competing in a regional junior contact fencing tournament, and I mistakenly thought his sister was trying to sabotage me.

I confronted her without thinking, and it escalated into a huge argument. But instead of getting angry or defensive on her behalf, Arash stepped in and diffused the situation with a calm and level-headed demeanor. He had this way of diffusing tense situations just by being present. It was remarkable."

I was intrigued by Midori's tale, completely engrossed in the details she weaved. She continued, her voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and fondness.

A wistful smile graced Midori's face as she recalled the memories. "It started when I lost to his sister in the final match of that tournament. I was devastated. I'd lost in the dojo, sure, but I'd never lost when the stakes mattered. It felt like my entire world had crumbled. But Arash, he came up to me afterwards, his eyes filled with genuine kindness and understanding. He told me that losing didn't define my worth or who I was as a person, and offered to help me shore up some holes."

I watched as Midori's face softened, her eyes distant as she traveled back to those defining moments in her life. The tenderness in her voice mirrored the vulnerability she displayed. "Of course, I wound up on his sister's shit list for a while. She was furious with me for causing a scene and embarrassing her in front of her brother. I tried to apologize, but she wouldn't have it. From that moment on, I became the object of her relentless disdain. I still cringe when I think about how aloof and unapologetic I must have seemed back then, but Arash, he saw through all that. He saw the fire and passion in me, even when I couldn't see it myself."

I leaned forward, captivated by Midori's story. The way she spoke about Arash, it was clear that he had made a profound impact on her life. "So, what happened next? How did he change your perspective?"

Midori paused, her eyes glistening with a mixture of nostalgia and gratitude. "Arash became my mentor, my confidant, and eventually, my closest friend. He taught me so much more than just swordplay. And not to toot my own horn too much, he was also a prodigy with both the sword and spell. I... honestly had a pretty big crush on him. His sister wasn't the only one who noticed it. She teased me relentlessly and he never reciprocated, but I didn't mind. I cherished every moment I spent with him, whether it was sparring in the dojo or simply sitting under the trees, sharing stories and dreams. He defrosted that pompous little ice queen inside me, and taught me the value of humility and compassion. Through his guidance, I began to understand that strength wasn't just about physical prowess, but about the strength of character.

As Midori spoke, I could see the raw emotion coming from her. The ice queen she claimed to have been seemed like a distant memory, replaced by someone who had found warmth and vulnerability in her experiences. Her love for Arash radiated from her words, the way her eyes sparkled with each recollection.

"My bickering and clashes with his sister continued, fueling my determination to prove myself to her, to show her that I was worthy of her brother's attention and affection. She was a foul-mouthed, unladylike, and sharp-tongued girl. The very opposite of what a girl from a noble house should be. And yet, she had an authenticity and strength that I admired. Deep down, I knew that earning her respect would mean the world to me."

But in the process, I realized that it was no longer about winning or being the best. It was about growth, about finding my true self through the challenges we faced together."

A soft sigh escaped Midori's lips, her eyes distant as she relished in the memories. "That competitive spirit escalated into a fierce rivalry. We pushed each other to our limits, constantly striving to outdo one another. It was exhilarating and exhausting all at once. But amidst the fierce rivalry, a deep bond formed between us. We became more than just friends or training partners; we became each other's mirrors, reflecting the strengths and weaknesses we needed to address within ourselves. I developed as a fighter, as a person, and most importantly, as someone capable of real love."

I honestly hadn't expected this turn, delving deep into Midori's past and the pivotal role Arash had played in her life. The weight of her words, the emotions they carried, had woven an intricate tapestry of growth and self-discovery. I found myself captivated by her tale, unable to tear my gaze away from her expressive eyes.

"Arash's sister, of course, was Talia. My Talia," Midori continued, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "And let me tell you, she was a force to be reckoned with. Still a total spitfire these days, I'd have you know. Talia wasn't one to back down from a challenge and made it abundantly clear that she didn't trust me or like me early on. But over time, as we continued to train and fight together, our rivalry transformed into a deep respect and friendship. Talia saw the changes in me and witnessed my growth and dedication. And eventually, she started to open up to me as well."

"Wait, that Talia? The girl I bumped into when I met you?"

"The very same," Midori confirmed with a nod.

"No offense to her, but I really can't imagine her being a fierce, foul-mouthed, competitive swordsman," I admitted, unable to hide my surprise. Talia seemed so reserved and polite when I first encountered her.

Midori chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, she's definitely refined her rough edges over the years, but trust me, deep down, that fire still burns in her. She may not show it to everyone, but I've seen her unleash that sharp tongue of hers when it's warranted. She still has that fire in her. Though she may not express it in quite the same way as before, it's still there, burning bright within her."

I squinted, trying to recall the moment I'd bumped into Talia and fallen over. She had the most beautiful deep blue eyes I had ever seen, but there was an intensity behind them that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Midori smiled fondly, a glimmer of laughter in her eyes. "In the beginning, our conversations were guarded and filled with tension, but as time passed, our guards came down. We confided in each other, sharing our hopes, dreams, and fears. Talia had always been a fiercely independent soul, bearing her family's expectations on her shoulders. We had that much in common. But beneath that tough exterior, I saw a gentleness and vulnerability that only a few were privileged enough to witness. And just like how my passion eventually rose to the surface, her soft heart began to shine through when she met my younger brother, Momotarou."

I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued. "Your younger brother..."

"Yes, my younger brother Momotarou," Midori said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "He was the complete opposite of me. While I was driven by ambition and a desire to prove myself, Momotarou possessed an inherent kindness and compassion that touched everyone he met. He had this natural ability to bring people together, to inspire them with his gentle spirit. He was fiercely intelligent, too. Momo understood Onmyodo and the complexities of the spirit better than anyone, even at a young age. Despite all of these qualities, Momo was always humble and unassuming."

Midori paused for a moment, lost in the memories of her brother. "Momo and I… well, we were inseparable growing up. We shared everything, from our dreams to our deepest fears. And when I introduced him to Talia, she more or less adopted him. Our family had suddenly expanded to include each other, and the bond we shared grew even stronger as the years went by."

I watched as the emotions flickered across Midori's face, her voice filled with joy and melancholy. It was clear that her journey, intertwined with the lives of Arash, Talia, and Momotarou, had shaped her into the person she is today.

She paused, searching for the right words to continue her tale. "Like you said, though. Life has a way of throwing curveballs at us," she finally said, her voice filled with melancholy and wisdom. "And just when I thought everything was falling into place, fate slapped us all in the face in the cruelest way possible."

A heavy silence settled between us as the weight of Midori's words hung in the air. I could see the sadness etched in her eyes, the pain that still lingered despite the passage of time.

"What happened?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Midori took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond along the skyline. "I always loved my family, you know? I was cringey, emotionally stunted, and repressed back then, but I always saw the importance of family. When I think about it, the only time I dropped that pompous ice queen mask before I met Arash was with my little brother. He was my heart and soul, my best friend. We were inseparable, always looking out for each other in a world that expected so much from us."

Midori's voice quivered with emotion, and I could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes. She blinked them away and continued, her voice steady but filled with a deep ache. "Like I said, I don't think I want to go to deeply into the details of what happened, but the city was struck by the worst Chaos Event it'd seen since the Fourth Chaos War. It took my little brother from me, ripped him away in the most violent and senseless way. I was devastated, inconsolable. My world had crumbled, and I felt the weight of my own existence as a fraud. I couldn't understand why my brother wasn't there when I came home, and I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that he was gone forever. My desire to become strong wasn't about something as ephemeral as 'duty' or asserting my identity. It had always been to be his shield, to protect him from the world. And I had failed him."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and I felt the weight of her pain and loss. I knew she was right; we didn't need to hear the details of that tragic day. The loss of a loved one was enough to crush a person's spirit.

"But that wasn't all that happened that day. Tell me, have you heard what a Magitech soldier is?"

I shook my head, my curiosity piquing at the mention of Magitech soldiers. "Only in passing," I replied, urging Midori to continue her story.

From what I understood, it was the Terran equivalent of a special forces or elite fighting force, combining advanced technology and magic to give them an edge on the battlefield. They were considered the elite of the elite of Terran military forces.

Midori took a moment to compose herself, her voice tinged with sorrow and bitterness. "As you know, the most effective fighting force we have to deal with Chaos Beasts are... Magical Girls. They transcend the limitations of physics and conventional magic. They are incredibly resistant to chaos, energy, and corruption, making them invaluable for dealing with horde leaders and day-to-day extermination missions. However, they are few in number and incredibly difficult to produce, as they seem to appear spontaneously and their powers wane if their resolve falters. The creation of a Magical Girl is a rare occurrence, and it requires great strength of character, a deep connection to one's own ideals, and unwavering resolve."

She continued, her voice growing more intense, "The creation of Magitech soldiers was an attempt to replicate the abilities and effectiveness of Magical Girls but without the same limitations of 'hope,' or 'heroism, and other intangible concepts that lead to their creation. These soldiers were meant to be easier to control and expendable in the fight against Chaos Beasts that traditional magitech weaponry couldn't handle. In Terran society, highly skilled mages are highly sought after as potential candidates for becoming Magitech Soldiers. It is also custom for the aristocracy to have multiple children, and to send at least one of their sons off to be trained as one. However, unlike Magical Girls, they lack inherent resistance to Chaos Energy. While their resistance is higher than the average human, it still pales in comparison to that of a Magical Girl."

Midori's voice grew colder, her tone laced with bitterness. "Arash... he was a graduate of the Magitech Soldier program. You see, the term 'Magitech Soldier' is actually a euphemism. They undergo a procedure where they receive a customized magitech device called a 'Promethean Node'. This node taps into different aspects of a mage's 'Soul Graph' - a unique representation of everything that makes them 'them'. This includes their emotions, personality, and even family history on a metaphysical level. The technology behind it is powered by active chaos cores, usually from Count-class and Marquis-class chaos beasts. Chaos energy is filtered before being used to enhance their spells and physical abilities. Even just a small amount allows them to confront Marquis-class chaos beasts head-on, creatures that are normally impervious to conventional attacks."

A chill ran down my spine as Midori's words sank in. The implications of what she was saying were astounding and troubling. A magical device? That sounded like...

"Wait, you mean to tell me that the Magitech Soldiers are channeling chaos energy directly? But that goes against everything we've been taught on Earth about the dangers!"

Midori nodded, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Yes, and the existence of these soldiers is common knowledge to the general public on Terra. They are portrayed as heroes. The best of the best for the Terran elites to aspire to in the fight against Chaos Beasts. But the truth is far darker than what is presented to the masses. The Magitech Soldiers, while effective in combat, pay a heavy price for their power."

I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and betrayal as I listened to Midori's revelation. How could such an unethical practice be allowed to continue? And what about Arash? Was he aware of the true nature of his abilities? And in my own case...

"Arash..." I spoke his name softly, my voice filled with concern. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "But what about Arash? Is he aware of all this? Did he willingly choose to become a Magitech Soldier?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Midori took a deep breath, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. "They all know what they're signing up for. Arash wanted to be a hero, to protect people from the chaos that threatened our world. He believed in the cause, in the mission of the Magitech Soldiers. And because of his extraordinary magical abilities, he was chosen to undergo the dangerous procedure to become one of them."

"But what happened?" I asked, my heart racing with anticipation.

A tear rolled down Midori's cheek as she looked at me, her eyes filled with pain. "Having an implanted Promethean Node gives a trained Magitech Soldier the strength to take on Viscount-class threats and weaker Count-class chaos beasts. However, there is a cost. The constant use of low levels of chaos energy to enhance themselves not only corrupts their body but also their mind. The symptoms start subtly, like a slow-onset concussion, but they worsen over time. Memory loss, hallucinations, and fits of rage are just a few of the effects. Some major factionos, such as Sisyphus, condemn this practice as inhumane and advocate for its replacement. Nevertheless, the volunteers deem it an acceptable trade-off. If their condition becomes too severe, the implants can be removed, but most Magitech Soldiers meet the same end eventually."

I swallowed hard, struggling to comprehend the horror of what Midori was revealing. "What do you mean, 'goes out the same way'?" I asked hoarsely.

Midori's expression turned distant, her voice weighted with sadness. "As the Promethean Node channels life force from the chaos core, it slowly corrupts the bodies and minds of its hosts. However, what makes the Magitech Soldiers so valuable is their control over an 'Eventide'. Chaos energy is inherently chaotic, unpredictable, and destructive; but an Eventide is a directed burst of this energy - channeled through a soldier's soul graph to alter reality in their favor. It's a devastatingly powerful ability that can turn the tides of battle instantly. However, the immense surge of chaos energy can overwhelm and consume the human body entirely."

I gasped, my hand instinctively covering my mouth to stifle the wave of horror that threatened to escape. The true nature of the Magitech Soldiers was beyond anything I could have imagined. They were living on borrowed time, sacrificing their bodies and minds for a power that would ultimately consume them.

Trembling, Midori's voice faltered as she continued to speak. She carried a heavy burden of grief and guilt in her words. "Arash knew the consequences of becoming a Magitech Soldier, but he believed it was necessary. He wanted to protect our world, to save it from the horrors that threatened us all. And so, he made the choice to become one. But on the day of the Jo Lun Incident, Arash made the ultimate sacrifice for our sake. He unleashed his Eventide and created an opening for the strongest Magical Girls in the city to defeat the horde leader. However, this act sealed his own fate. The powerful energy coursing through his body tore at his very being until there was nothing left but ash. It was a heroic act that saved countless lives, but... both Talia and I lost a brother that day."

She smiled at me, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. "Talia and I have been through so much together. The deaths of Arash and Momo hit us hard, leaving us to rebuild our shattered lives in a world that suddenly seemed darker. But we have each other, and that's what keeps us going."

I took a moment to process everything Midori had shared with me. I couldn't help but feel admiration and respect for Arash's bravery in sacrificing his life to protect others and fight against the nightmare that loomed over our worlds. It was a selflessness that few could match.

"Sorry for unloading all of that on you," Midori apologized, brushing away a stray tear. "You just wanted to know a bit about me, right?"

I nodded, feeling a connection with Midori I hadn't expected. Her story resonated with me more than I could express. "I'm glad you shared it with me," I replied softly, my voice filled with empathy. "It's important to understand the truth, no matter how dark or painful it may be."

The bell rang, signaling the turn of noon. Midori stood up, her usual energy returning. "Well, Ikki, I've got to head to my club meeting to prep. You should come check it out! It's combat fencing, but like I said, it's nothing like you've seen on Earth. You might find it interesting."

I hesitated, thinking about my packed schedule. "I don't know… I'm actually here on a scholarship for the robotics club, and I've got to figure out a part-time job too. I don't know if I'll have the time..."

Midori waved her hand dismissively. "No need to feel pressured, Ikki. If you're curious, come check it out at four o' clock any day this week. The clubs here are perfect for staying fit and making friends. And for those who officially join, we have top-notch equipment available. There's no obligation to compete or anything like that!"

I smiled, appreciating her understanding. "Thanks, Midori. I'll think about it."

"Hey… let's swap numbers, yeah?" Midori suggested, pulling out her phone. "Couldn't get it last time for well, obvious reasons."

I nodded, taking out my own phone and exchanging numbers with Midori. It felt like the start of a genuine friendship, and despite the heavy revelations, I found solace in knowing that I wasn't alone in this new world.

Midori gave me a playful salute as she headed off, her energy as infectious as ever. "I'll catch ya later, Ikki! Remember, four o'clock if you're interested."

She disappeared into the crowd of people leaving for noon classes, and I sat there for a moment, processing everything she had shared. Her story was a mix of bravery, loss, and resilience – qualities I admired and resonated with. But there was something else niggling at the back of my mind, something about the Promethean Nodes and Magitech Soldiers that sounded too eerily familiar for comfort.

"Rai-chan," I murmured mentally, "about what Midori said... the Promethean Nodes... that's kind of like what you are, isn't it?"

There was a brief pause before Rai-chan's voice echoed in my head with an unreadable tone. "I was searching all available public databases as you and Midori were engaged in conversation."

There was another pause before Rai-chan continued, my heart raced with anticipation. The mention of Promethean Nodes and Magitech Soldiers had triggered something deep within my paranoid mind. It felt like I was on the brink of uncovering a profound truth, one that could potentially change everything.

"In the strictest definition of the term and parameters of construction… Promethean Nodes are sophisticated magical entities created to interface with and assist Magitech Soldiers. Their purpose is to enhance and catalyze the soldiers' combat capabilities and provide tactical information. Based on the available data..."

 

She paused before answering.

 

"It is highly probable that I am indeed derived from methods utilized in the creation of Promethean Nodes."