Chapter Text
August 24 – STUDY Corporation Headquarters, District 11, Evening
The STUDY Corporation's headquarters presented an unremarkable facade—a six-story glass and steel building indistinguishable from countless others throughout Academy City's business districts. Its modest security—a few guards at the entrance, standard electronic locks, and surveillance cameras—belied the unethical research occurring within its sterile laboratories.
Jabravki materialized on the roof, his blood-red form momentarily dissipating into mist before reconstituting. He peered through a skylight, observing the scientists below as they moved between workstations with the practiced efficiency of people who believed their work was both important and justified.
"Scurrying insects," he whispered, his voice like metal shavings in a blender. "Such determination for such small ambitions."
He placed one finger against the glass, which immediately frosted over with a crimson patina. The reinforced security glass—designed to withstand significant impact—simply disintegrated, the particles floating away like crimson snowflakes.
Jabravki dropped silently into the uppermost laboratory, landing in a crouch that seemed to defy physics, his double-sided naginata materializing in his grip. Two researchers looked up from their computer terminals, their expressions shifting from surprise to terror as they registered his impossible appearance.
"Where is Aritomi Haruki?" Jabravki asked pleasantly, his head tilting at an inhuman angle.
The older researcher reached slowly toward an alarm button beneath his desk. Jabravki was beside him instantly, the movement too fast for human eyes to track. The naginata flashed once.
"Wrong answer," he whispered as the researcher's head separated cleanly from his body, both parts toppling to the floor with a wet thud.
The second researcher, a young woman, screamed and bolted for the door. Jabravki didn't pursue her—instead, his form dissolved into crimson mist, flowing through the ventilation system while her footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Alarms began to blare throughout the facility. Emergency lights bathed the hallways in pulsing red, inadvertently making Jabravki's blood-red form harder to distinguish as he reconstituted in a central corridor. The panicked researcher collided directly with him, her momentum carrying her partway through his semi-solid form before she realized what had happened.
She opened her mouth to scream again, but no sound emerged as Jabravki's naginata pierced her throat. "Running only makes this more enjoyable," he informed her as she collapsed.
Security guards appeared at both ends of the corridor, weapons drawn. "Freeze!" one shouted, though his voice trembled.
"With pleasure," Jabravki replied. His form blurred, the naginata spinning so rapidly it created a circular wall of crimson energy. The guards opened fire, but their bullets seemed to pass through Jabravki as if he were made of mist. In the next moment, he was among them, the naginata slicing with surgical precision.
The corridor fell silent save for the continuing alarms. Jabravki stepped over the bodies, consulting an internal map of the facility that Lietzan had somehow obtained. The main research laboratory would be two floors down, and based on his information, that's where he would likely find both Aritomi and the Chemicaloids.
Rather than taking the elevator or stairs, Jabravki simply phased through the floor, his form becoming mist once more as he descended through solid concrete. He rematerialized in a wide laboratory filled with advanced equipment. Several scientists in lab coats were huddled near an emergency exit, frantically trying to evacuate.
"Going somewhere?" Jabravki asked, his voice echoing unnaturally in the large space.
One of the scientists—a woman with short brown hair—stepped forward protectively. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Jabravki recognized her from the intelligence briefing: Sakurai Jun, one of STUDY's core members. "I have business with Aritomi Haruki," he replied, twirling his naginata lazily. "And the Chemicaloids."
Jun's eyes widened. "How do you—"
Her question ended in a gurgle as the naginata's blade sliced across her midsection. The remaining scientists scattered in panic, but Jabravki moved with impossible speed, cutting them down one by one with methodical precision.
As the last body fell, the far door to the laboratory slid open. Aritomi Haruki stood framed in the doorway, his glasses reflecting the emergency lights. Unlike his colleagues, he showed no fear—only scientific curiosity mixed with resignation.
"I assume you're here for our research," he stated calmly, adjusting his glasses with one finger. "Though your methods seem unnecessarily dramatic."
Jabravki inclined his head, a mockery of a formal bow. "The main man himself. A pleasure to finally meet the mind behind the Chemicaloid Project."
"And you are?" Aritomi asked, stepping fully into the laboratory and allowing the door to close behind him.
"A messenger," Jabravki replied, "from someone with great interest in your work—specifically, the toxic byproduct your Chemicaloids produce."
Aritomi's eyes narrowed slightly. "Interesting. That aspect of their design isn't public knowledge." He glanced around at his slaughtered colleagues. "I suppose negotiation isn't an option?"
"Perceptive." Jabravki gestured with his naginata. "Take me to them. Now."
After a moment's consideration, Aritomi nodded. "Very well. This way." He turned and reentered the corridor he'd come from, Jabravki following close behind.
"Our Chemicaloids are revolutionary," Aritomi explained as they walked, his tone that of a professor giving a lecture. "The first artificial humans created entirely through chemical processes rather than cloning or genetic manipulation. Their esper abilities are designed rather than developed—predictable, controllable."
"And the poison?" Jabravki prompted.
"A necessary design element," Aritomi replied. "Insurance, you might say. Without regular administration of the antidote, the toxin builds up in their systems, eventually causing organ failure and death."
They reached a heavily reinforced door at the end of the corridor. Aritomi placed his palm on a scanner, then entered a complex code. The door hissed open, revealing a circular chamber that resembled a medical ward more than a laboratory.
In the center of the room stood two cylindrical tanks filled with pale blue fluid. Inside each floated a small blonde girl, appearing to be around ten years old, tubes and monitoring equipment connected to their tiny bodies. Both appeared to be in stasis, their eyes closed peacefully.
"Janie and Febrie," Aritomi introduced them with a wave of his hand. "The culmination of years of research. The future of Academy City's esper development program."
Jabravki approached the tanks, studying the children with unnerving intensity. "And their poison—where is it collected?"
Aritomi gestured to a series of tubes connected to both tanks, leading to a separate containment unit. "We harvest it continuously. Their bodies produce approximately five milliliters per day, which we store for various applications."
"Show me," Jabravki commanded.
With clinical detachment, Aritomi led him to a refrigerated storage unit in the corner of the room. Inside were dozens of small vials containing a luminescent green liquid.
"This is what you came for?" Aritomi asked. "The purified toxin?"
"All of it," Jabravki confirmed.
Aritomi raised an eyebrow. "Might I ask what purpose—"
His question was interrupted as Jabravki's naginata sliced through the air, stopping just short of his throat. "You've reached the limit of your questions, scientist. The vials. All of them. Now."
With careful movements, Aritomi retrieved a specialized carrying case from beneath the storage unit. One by one, he transferred the vials from the refrigerator to the foam-lined interior of the case.
"There are fifty-seven vials in total," he explained as he worked. "Each contains approximately 100 milliliters of purified toxin. At room temperature, it remains stable for approximately seventy-two hours before beginning to degrade."
Jabravki watched the process with unblinking attention. When the last vial was secured, Aritomi closed the case and handed it over.
"May I ask one final question?" Aritomi requested, his scientific curiosity apparently outweighing his survival instinct.
Jabravki tilted his head, considering. "One."
"What are you?" Aritomi's eyes gleamed with genuine interest. "Your physiological structure defies conventional understanding. You appear to be composed of some form of hemoglobin-based matter, yet demonstrate properties inconsistent with any known state of matter."
A chilling laugh escaped Jabravki's lipless mouth. "I am the blood of vengeance, scientist. A fragment of a greater whole, given purpose and form." He secured the case in one hand, the naginata still gripped in the other. "Your understanding of reality is too limited to comprehend what I truly am."
Aritomi nodded, as if this answer satisfied him on some level. "I suspected as much. Academy City's science still has its limitations, it seems."
"Indeed," Jabravki agreed. "As does your life."
The naginata moved in a blur of crimson motion. Aritomi's head remained perfectly in place for a moment, his expression frozen in that final look of scientific curiosity, before sliding cleanly from his shoulders. His body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around it.
Jabravki turned his attention back to the tanks containing the Chemicaloids. For a moment, he considered destroying them—it would be simple enough, and might create additional chaos that would serve Lustro's broader plans.
"Another time, perhaps," he murmured to the unconscious children. "Your role in this story isn't finished yet."
With the case securely in his grip, Jabravki moved toward the exit, already planning the most efficient route back to Lustro's temporary headquarters. He had almost reached the door when he froze, his head tilting as if listening to something beyond human perception.
A presence was approaching the facility—powerful, focused, and filled with a determination that Jabravki found oddly familiar. The blood-tulpa extended his senses, probing the approaching entity's signature.
The blood-tulpa extended his senses, probing the approaching entity's signature.
"Accelerator?" Jabravki hissed in surprise, his voice a discordant whisper of metal against bone.
The strongest esper in Academy City, the boy who had killed thousands of Sisters before being humiliated by Kevin and his companions. What could possibly bring him here, to STUDY's headquarters, on this particular night?
A coincidence so perfect it seemed almost orchestrated—yet Lustro had mentioned nothing about the crimson-haired esper's involvement.
Jabravki's permanent grin widened to inhuman proportions. What delicious serendipity. Lietzan had spoken of Accelerator with fascination after observing recordings of his battles—a being of immense destructive capability, yet recently defeated. A perfect test subject.
"Perhaps fate has delivered me a gift," Jabravki murmured, his crimson form pulsing with excitement.
The tulpa's mission was technically complete—he had the toxin and the research data. By all rights, he should depart immediately to deliver them to Lustro. But the opportunity to test Academy City's strongest esper was too tempting to ignore.
Jabravki raised his hands, crimson energy swirling between his palms. Blood magic—a dark, forbidden art predating modern magical systems—flowed from his essence as he began to chant in a language that sounded like glass breaking underwater.
"Rakshasa-vahana, asura-bhakshaka, rakta-pana, prāṇa-shoṣhaṇa..."
The blood pooling around Aritomi's body began to move of its own accord, flowing upward in spiraling patterns before separating into dozens of crimson orbs. Each orb pulsed like a tiny heart, growing darker until they appeared almost black.
"Yantra-graha, yantra-bhaksha!"
The orbs shot outward, passing through the walls of the laboratory as if they were mist, seeking the mechanical defenses of STUDY Corporation. Each orb contained a seed of consciousness—a minor Rakshasa demon, blood spirits from a dimension of endless hunger that Lietzan had bound to his service.
Throughout the building, STUDY's advanced defensive systems suddenly came to life. HsPS-15 units—humanoid combat robots equipped with pseudo-Meltdowner technology—activated in their storage bays, their sensor lights shifting from blue to blood-red. Automated security turrets swiveled with new purpose. Most impressive were the three prototype combat mechs in the underground testing facility—fifteen-foot amalgamations of cutting-edge technology and weaponry that now began to move with jerky, unnatural motions as the Rakshasa spirits took control.
"Let's see how Academy City's strongest handles a proper welcome," Jabravki chuckled, the sound like breaking bones. "I wonder if his vector control works against entities from beyond this dimension?"
He moved back to the unconscious Chemicaloids, positioning himself between their containers. If Accelerator somehow made it past the possessed mechanicals, Jabravki wanted to observe him closely before deciding whether to engage directly.
Accelerator approached the STUDY building with measured steps, his crimson hair gleaming under the streetlights. The facility looked oddly dark—emergency lighting casting eerie red shadows through the windows, but no regular illumination or signs of normal activity.
The security gate hung open, the guardhouse empty. That alone was suspicious enough to put him on alert. According to Shinobu's information, this place should have been fully staffed, even at this hour.
Soon the very air seemed to change, becoming heavier, tinged with an unfamiliar copper taste. And ahead of him, he could hear the distinctive whine of multiple servo motors activating simultaneously.
"Tch. Bringing out the toys," he muttered, a hint of cruel anticipation in his voice.
The corridor ahead suddenly filled with mechanical figures—the HsPS-15 units moving with a fluidity they weren't designed to possess, their optical sensors glowing an unnatural red. Behind them came the heavy, thundering footsteps of something much larger.
Accelerator's lips curled into a predatory smile. After his humiliation at the hands of Touma and Jupiter, a chance to unleash his abilities was almost welcome. If STUDY wanted to make this interesting, he wouldn't complain.
The first HsPS-15 raised its arm, energy gathering at its palm in a pale imitation of Mugino's Meltdowner. Accelerator didn't bother to dodge as the beam fired directly at him. The energy struck his automatic vector field and reflected back precisely, striking the robot's head and obliterating it in a shower of sparks and molten metal.
"Is that the best you've got?" he called out mockingly, stepping forward.
The remaining units rushed him as one, moving with a coordinated savagery that exceeded their programming parameters. Accelerator's eyes narrowed slightly. Something was off about their movement—almost organic in its malice.
He stomped his foot, calculating the vectors in the floor and sending a ripple of force outward. The impact launched several units into the air, where he casually touched one and reversed the vectors of its internal components, causing it to explode in a hail of parts that he directed toward the others.
But for each unit he destroyed, more appeared, pouring in from side corridors and maintenance shafts. And behind them, three massive shapes emerged—the prototype mechs, their weapons systems fully activated and glowing with the same blood-red energy.
"Now that's more like it," Accelerator grinned, despite himself. He hadn't felt properly challenged since his defeat.
The lead mech fired a volley of missiles that Accelerator simply redirected with a wave of his hand, sending them back to explode against the ceiling and walls. But as the smoke cleared, he realized the remaining HsPS-15 units had surrounded him, and each was now emitting a strange, high-pitched keening that seemed to penetrate his skull directly.
For the briefest moment, Accelerator felt his calculation ability waver. These weren't normal sounds—they seemed to bypass his physical defenses entirely.
"The fuck?" he growled, pressing a hand to his temple.
One of the mechs took advantage of his momentary distraction, its massive fist slamming down toward him. Accelerator's vector field automatically reflected the force, sending the mech stumbling backward, but the effort required more conscious calculation than usual.
Whatever these machines were, they weren't operating on normal principles.
Accelerator's eyes narrowed in concentration. If conventional vectors weren't fully effective, he'd have to get creative. He reached out, not to the machines themselves but to the air surrounding them, and with a complex calculation, stripped away all oxygen from a two-meter radius around each unit.
The effect was immediate. Flames sputtered out from weapon systems, and electronic components began to malfunction without proper cooling. But the machines continued to advance, moving with jerky determination even as their systems failed.
"Persistent bastards," Accelerator muttered.
He charged forward, his speed enhanced by vector manipulation, and physically contacted the nearest mech. Instead of simply redirecting force, he calculated a new application—turning the metal's molecular bonds against themselves. The mech's armor began to fold inward, crushing its own internal components as if an invisible compactor were squeezing it from all sides.
The remaining mechanical forces surged forward as their companion collapsed, their movements becoming increasingly erratic and savage. Accelerator found himself genuinely having to concentrate as he systematically dismantled them, using combinations of vector control that he hadn't needed to employ since his defeat by Kevin and the others.
It was, in a strange way, invigorating.
The battle raged across multiple floors as Accelerator progressed upward, leaving a trail of destroyed machinery behind him. With each encounter, he refined his approach, learning that whatever was controlling these machines responded differently to various vector manipulations.
By the time he reached the fortieth floor, sweat beaded on his forehead—not from physical exertion, but from the mental calculations required to counter the increasingly bizarre attack patterns.
The final confrontation came in a large atrium two floors below the Chemicaloid laboratory. The last mech, now visibly damaged but still functioning, stood between Accelerator and the elevators. Behind it hovered a dozen HsPS-15 units, their red optical sensors fixed on him with what could only be described as hatred.
"Last chance," Accelerator called out, more for his own amusement than any expectation of surrender. "Get out of my way, or there won't be enough left to recycle."
The machines responded by attacking all at once, their movements synchronized in a way that suggested a single controlling intelligence rather than individual units. Accelerator braced himself, calculating complex vector equations faster than most supercomputers could process.
The resulting clash lasted less than thirty seconds but transformed the atrium into a wasteland of twisted metal and sparking electronics. When the dust settled, Accelerator stood alone amid the destruction, his crimson hair seeming even brighter against the carnage.
He rolled his shoulders, a predatory smile spreading across his face. Whatever had been controlling those machines had given him the first real challenge he'd had since his defeat. It felt... good.
With measured steps, he approached the elevator that would take him to the Chemicaloid laboratory. But instead of pressing the call button, he simply placed his hand on the sealed doors and calculated the vectors needed to force them open.
"Now," he said to the empty air as he stepped into the elevator shaft, "let's see what's waiting upstairs."
Jabravki felt each Rakshasa demon's destruction as Accelerator systematically eliminated the possessed machines. It wasn't painful—the spirits were mere tools, extensions of his will rather than true parts of himself—but it was informative. Through their brief connections, he gleaned data about Accelerator's abilities, watching how the esper adapted to each new challenge.
"Fascinating," the tulpa murmured, drifting away from the Chemicaloids toward the laboratory entrance. "Such precise control over vectors, yet limited to physical phenomena. Lietzan will be most interested to learn of these limitations."
The elevator shaft outside the laboratory hummed with activity—not the mechanism itself, but something climbing up through it. Jabravki positioned himself directly in front of the doors, his blood-red form pulsing with anticipation.
The heavy doors blew inward with incredible force, torn from their reinforced hinges and sent flying across the room. They passed harmlessly through Jabravki's semi-solid form before crashing into the far wall.
In the doorway stood Accelerator, his crimson hair seeming to glow in the laboratory's dim emergency lighting. His pale face registered surprise for only an instant before settling into a calculating mask.
"What the fuck are you supposed to be?" he demanded, taking in the jester's impossible form.
Jabravki's grin widened beyond what any human face could achieve. "A collector, you might say. Here for similar reasons as yourself, I imagine." He gestured toward the unconscious Chemicaloids. "Though perhaps with different intentions."
Accelerator's eyes narrowed as he assessed the bizarre entity before him. It wasn't human, that much was obvious. Not an esper, not a robot, not any kind of technology he recognized. The creature radiated wrongness on a fundamental level.
"Move," Accelerator commanded simply. "I'm here for the kids."
"How heroic," Jabravki mocked, twirling his naginata casually. "The butcher of ten thousand Sisters, now playing savior to artificial children. What fascinating character development."
Accelerator tensed. This thing knew about the Sisters project? About him?
Accelerator's expression darkened. "How do you know why I'm here?"
"I know many things," Jabravki replied cryptically. "Including the fact that you arrive too late. The Chemicaloids' keeper has already met his end." He gestured toward the facility with his naginata. "Though the children themselves remain intact. For now."
"You killed everyone inside," Accelerator stated, not a question but an observation. He had seen enough death to recognize its aftermath in Jabravki's demeanor.
"Most of them, yes," Jabravki admitted cheerfully. "Scientific progress built on exploitation deserves little mercy, wouldn't you agree? Or have your standards changed since your Sisters project days?"
The taunt struck home. Accelerator's crimson eyes flashed with barely suppressed rage. "You know nothing about me."
"I know everything about you," Jabravki countered. "The most powerful esper in Academy City, who built his reputation on slaughter, only to be humiliated by a golden reality-warper, a spiky-haired nobody, and a month-old hatchling. And now here you are, playing hero." He tilted his head at an impossible angle. "How does it feel to be on the other side?"
Accelerator could already feel his blood beginning to boil, this red bastard was pissing the hell out of him.
"I'm not asking twice," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
Jabravki's form rippled, the crimson substance of his body flowing like liquid but maintaining his general shape. "I've already taken what I came for," he admitted, patting the case of toxins absorbed into his form. "The Chemicaloids themselves are of no interest to my master. But you..." his eyes gleamed with predatory interest. "You are an unexpected bonus. Academy City's strongest, humbled by a golden anomaly and his friends. I wonder how you'd fare against something from beyond your limited reality?"
Accelerator's patience evaporated. With a snarl, he launched himself forward, the ground cratering beneath his feet from the redirected vectors. His hand stretched out, aiming to pierce through Jabravki—a killing move he had used countless times before.
His hand passed through Jabravki's chest as if through mist, encountering no resistance. The jester laughed, the sound like shattering glass.
"Physical vectors against a blood-construct?" Jabravki taunted. "You might as well try to punch a nightmare."
Accelerator stumbled slightly as his momentum carried him through the tulpa's form, but recovered instantly, turning to face the creature again.
"Let's find out what you're really made of," he snarled, his eyes gleaming with the challenge.
Behind them, the Chemicaloids remained unconscious in their containers, oblivious to the confrontation between two entities of terrifying power—one science, one magic—that was about to unfold in the wreckage of STUDY's most secure laboratory.
The laboratory erupted into chaos as Accelerator launched himself at Jabravki again, this time calculating vectors of the air molecules surrounding the crimson entity. Instead of trying to strike the creature directly, he created a vacuum pocket that imploded with thunderous force.
Jabravki's form distorted, parts of his body stretching and compressing as the sudden pressure change affected him. He laughed, the sound like metal scraping against bone.
"Clever boy!" he exclaimed. "Finding my weaknesses already!"
The jester tulpa spun his naginata in a blood-red arc, leaving trails of crimson energy that solidified into physical blades. Unlike his misty body, these projections were tangible and deadly, slicing through equipment and walls with ease.
Accelerator dodged the first volley, redirecting what he couldn't avoid with precise vector calculations. One blade grazed his shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood before he could fully adjust his reflection.
"What?" Accelerator snarled, genuinely surprised. Nothing should penetrate his vector field without his permission.
"Different rules," Jabravki explained, his grin widening impossibly. "My weapons aren't bound by physical laws. They're manifestations of another reality's principles."
Accelerator's eyes narrowed in calculation. If conventional physics didn't fully apply, he would need to adapt. He planted his foot firmly on the ground, recalculating the vectors throughout the room. The floor tiles cracked, then shattered upward in a wave of debris that filled the air around Jabravki.
Instead of trying to harm the jester directly, Accelerator infused each fragment with complex vector equations, creating a storm of matter that moved according to his will rather than conventional momentum.
"Impressive improvisation," Jabravki acknowledged as the fragments phased through parts of his body but somehow caught and tore at others. "You're learning my substance's limitations."
The tulpa's form suddenly liquified completely, collapsing into a crimson puddle that flowed across the floor with unnatural speed. Before Accelerator could adjust his calculations, the blood-like substance had encircled him, then erupted upward in a forest of crimson spikes.
Accelerator's vector field reflected most of the attack, but once again, some elements penetrated his defenses—not completely, but enough to cause shallow lacerations across his legs and torso.
"What the fuck is this?" he demanded, genuine excitement rising in his voice. It had been too long since he'd faced a genuine challenge.
"Blood magic," Jabravki explained, reforming his jester shape. "Older than human civilization, drawn from dimensions your science hasn't even conceived yet. Lietzan would be so pleased to see how well you're performing."
Accelerator had no idea who "Lietzan" was, nor did he care. His focus was entirely on the battle, on adapting to this opponent who operated on principles that defied his understanding of reality.
He crouched slightly, then launched himself upward with vector-enhanced speed, touching the ceiling briefly to reverse his momentum and come crashing down toward Jabravki with the force of a meteor.
The jester tulpa met the attack head-on, his naginata raised to intercept. The collision generated a shockwave that blew out the remaining windows and knocked the Chemicaloids' containment units back several meters.
For a fraction of a second, Accelerator and Jabravki were locked in a standoff, crimson energy from the tulpa meeting the vector manipulation of Academy City's strongest esper. Then reality seemed to hiccup around them, unable to reconcile the conflicting forces, and both were thrown in opposite directions.
Accelerator crashed through a bank of monitoring equipment, while Jabravki's form splattered against the far wall before quickly reconstituting.
"Wonderful!" the tulpa cackled, his excitement growing. "You're everything Lietzan hoped! Such adaptability! Such raw potential!"
Accelerator rose from the wreckage, blood trickling from several cuts that should have been impossible given his reflective ability. But rather than showing anger, his lips curled into a predatory smile.
"You haven't seen anything yet," he promised.
The crimson-haired esper raised his hand, and something changed in the air around him. The red tinge that had permanently stained his once-white hair seemed to intensify, spreading outward like a crimson aura.
"Crimson Cycle," Accelerator intoned, his voice taking on a resonant quality.
Tendrils of red energy began forming around him, moving with serpentine grace. Unlike his standard vector abilities, which were invisible until they affected physical objects, these manifestations were clearly visible—crimson extensions of will made tangible.
Jabravki froze, his perpetual grin faltering for the first time. "What is this?" he whispered, genuine surprise in his discordant voice.
The blood-red tendrils suddenly lashed outward with impossible speed, and where they struck Jabravki's form, they didn't pass through. Instead, they connected, latching onto the tulpa's substance as if recognizing a kindred nature.
"The blood of the Sisters I've killed," Accelerator explained, his eyes glowing with the same crimson energy. "Their vectors, their essence—I've made them mine. Blood calls to blood, doesn't it?"
Understanding dawned in Jabravki's inhuman eyes. "You've created your own blood magic," he breathed, sounding almost reverent. "Unknowingly, accidentally—but you've tapped into principles beyond science."
The tulpa didn't try to escape the tendrils that had latched onto him. Instead, he seemed to welcome them, his own form pulsing in rhythm with Accelerator's Crimson Cycle.
"We are not so different, you and I," Jabravki observed. "Both forged in blood and violence. Both transcending our original limitations."
Accelerator said nothing, concentrating instead on exploiting this unexpected connection. Through the crimson tendrils, he could sense Jabravki's substance—not just physically, but on deeper levels. The blood that composed the tulpa had its own vectors, its own principles of movement and existence.
With growing confidence, Accelerator began calculating these new vectors, attempting to assert control over the jester's very substance.
Jabravki felt the attempt and laughed—not mockingly, but with genuine delight. "Yes! Exactly so! Feel the connection between our blood-natures!"
Then, without warning, the tulpa counterattacked. Instead of resisting Accelerator's control, he opened himself to it completely, allowing the crimson tendrils to penetrate deep into his essence. But this connection worked both ways, and through it, Jabravki sent a surge of his own blood magic directly into Accelerator's Crimson Cycle.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Accelerator gasped as foreign energy flooded his system—not attempting to harm him, but to meld with his own power, to enhance and transform it.
For a moment, a perfect harmony existed between them—esper and tulpa, science and magic, both operating on principles of blood and vector. The laboratory glowed with crimson light, reality itself bending around the unprecedented fusion.
Then Accelerator realized what was happening and fought back, severing the connection with a violent calculation that sent both of them staggering.
"What—what the fuck did you do?" Accelerator demanded, his voice unsteady as the Crimson Cycle fluctuated around him, now tinged with darker hues that hadn't been present before.
Jabravki reformed himself, his expression almost ecstatic. "I offered you a gift! A taste of what your Crimson Cycle could become with the proper knowledge! Power is in the blood, Accelerator. Your accidental magic resonates with my intentional craft."
Accelerator struggled to regain control of his ability. The foreign energy Jabravki had introduced was competing with his own, creating calculation errors that manifested as wild fluctuations in his Crimson Cycle. The tendrils whipped around him chaotically, responding to his distress.
"You won't corrupt me," Accelerator snarled, forcing himself to focus through the disorientation.
"Corrupt?" Jabravki seemed genuinely puzzled. "No, no. Enlighten. Enhance. Your Crimson Cycle is primitive, instinctual—a wounded animal's response to trauma. I merely showed you a glimpse of what it could become with proper tutelage."
The jester tulpa drifted closer, his form still bearing traces of the connection they had shared. "My master would be fascinated by you, Accelerator. A natural blood mage, born of science rather than ancient traditions. So much potential, so poorly understood."
Accelerator backed away, his Crimson Cycle flickering as he fought to stabilize it. For the first time in the battle, he felt truly out of his depth. His ability to calculate vectors was unmatched in Academy City, but the principles Jabravki operated on defied conventional mathematics.
"Stay back," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm here for the Chemicaloids. Nothing else."
"The artificial children?" Jabravki glanced at the containment units, which had remarkably remained intact despite the battle. "Take them. As I said, my business was with the toxin, which I've already collected. My interest now is purely... academic."
The jester's form rippled, and suddenly he was directly in front of Accelerator, moving without crossing the intervening space. Before the esper could react, Jabravki pressed one blood-red finger to his forehead.
"A parting gift," the tulpa whispered. "A seed of true understanding."
Accelerator felt something flow into him—not an attack, but information. Knowledge of blood that went beyond biology, of vectors that transcended physical dimensions. For a fleeting moment, he glimpsed principles that would have taken him years of study to discover on his own.
Then Jabravki withdrew, floating backward toward the shattered windows. "We will meet again, Accelerator. When your Crimson Cycle has matured, when the seed I've planted bears fruit. Until then, do try to survive. Lustro would be most disappointed if you perished before the real game begins."
"Who the fuck is Lustro?" Accelerator demanded, still struggling to process the foreign knowledge now lodged in his consciousness. "What game?"
Jabravki's only response was a laugh that echoed unnaturally in the devastated laboratory. Then his form dissolved into crimson mist that streamed out through the broken windows, disappearing into the night.
Accelerator stood alone amid the destruction, his Crimson Cycle finally stabilizing but forever altered by the encounter. Whatever Jabravki had done to him, whatever knowledge he'd imparted, it couldn't be easily dismissed or forgotten.
With effort, he pushed the disturbing implications aside and focused on his original mission. The Chemicaloids remained in their containment units, unconscious but alive. Shinobu was waiting for them at the hospital.
As he approached the artificial children, Accelerator couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just become entangled in something far larger and more dangerous than he'd anticipated. Something that extended beyond Academy City, beyond esper abilities, beyond the scientific principles he'd always taken for granted.
For the first time since his defeat by Kevin and the others, Accelerator felt genuinely unsettled—not by fear, but by the vast unknown that had just opened before him.