Before we begin, there's a quick disclaimer I'd like to put in place. I do not, in any way, shape or form own, or claim ownership of anything within the franchise(s) written and owned by Kamachi Kazuma. This piece is a non-profit fan-made love letter to the wonderful Toaru Majutsu no Index series; though it brings joy to myself, and hopefully to those who read it, this piece will generate no gain, monetary or otherwise, for me in any way, shape or form. Toaru Majutsu no Index is written and owned by Kamachi Kazuma, and illustrated by Haimura Kiyotaka. Toaru Kagaku no Railgun is written and owned by Kamachi Kazuma, and illustrated by Fuyukawa Motoi. Toaru Kagaku no Accelerator is written and owned by Kamachi Kazuma, featuring illustrations by Yamaji Arata.

Welcome! Whether you're a new reader, or, an existing reader who is currently following along with either Times Change, or a Certain Strange Scenario, or, even both, it's great to have you here. If you've stumbled upon this piece by accident, or simply misclicked, I welcome you all the same! Whether or not you should decide to take your leave is, of course, entirely up to you. If you decide to stay along for the ride, you have my appreciation! If not, no hard feelings.

A Certain Broken Testament will be a bit different than the 'brother' and 'sister' pieces I'm currently writing, those being a Certain Strange Scenario, and Times Change. While the aforementioned pieces feature the characters of Kamijou Touma and Shokuhou Misaki as a functional, married couple, with aspirations for a positive future, and a possible extension of their family, this piece will be quite different, in that, eventually, one of the narrative's end goals will be the establishing of a functional polygamous relationship, between Kamijou Touma, and his female admirers. A Certain Broken Testament will take place in an alternate universe, separate from the alternate universe of a Certain Strange Scenario, and the alternate timeline of Times Change.

The Kamijou Touma of a Certain Broken Testament will be quite different, when compared to his Strange Scenario, and Times Change counterparts. That is all I can say on the matter, for the moment. To learn more, you'll have to read on, and uncover the story that's told for yourself.

A thousand thanks. You're all wonderful!

Kamijou Touma had simply sat, and stared, for some time. The sun had gone down, when he'd sat himself down, which must've been hours ago; still sitting, the great fiery hydrogen orb's light was returning, as the planet's moon prepared to begin her trip to the other side of the world.

What time was it? Did it even really matter? It was early in the morning, Kamijou Touma could tell that much, at least. From the metallic doorframes, with their spotless panes of glass that lead out, onto his dorm's small balcony, dull, weak, orange-colored light was entering his dorm's living quarters. The wooden floor of the dorm's living quarter's glowed, majestically, beneath the light.

Watching individual beams of sunlight dance, back and forth, as if they swayed in a gentle breeze brought nothing, to Kamijou Touma, when it should've brought something, anything.

Milky, in coloration, the dorm's walls were bathed in the early morning's orange-colored light. Though it didn't bring any temporary changes in coloration to the walls, it did seem to highlight the walls, and bring them to life, despite the relative darkness of the dorm's living quarters, with the exception of its living quarter's floors. Next to the dorm room's occupied bed, a closet door, wooden, dark brown in coloration, was closed, shut tightly.

From a wooden, light-colored coatrack, which was mounted to the wall directly next to the closet's left door, above the dorm's bed, Kamijou Touma's school uniform's shirt hung, by its collar. Bathed in the early morning's orange light, dust covered its surfaces, highlighted by the natural light. A short-sleeved shirt, orange in coloration, hung next to it, in a similar state of neglect.

A small, electronic clock, round-shaped, and black in coloration, sat upon a small, round stand, next to the occupied bed; it might as well have been the girls' bed, rather than his own. It wasn't like he actually slept in it. The clock's LCD screen, a few inches in length, and a few inches in height, displayed the time, in lines of bright red.

4:38 AM. That was the time, apparently. It was earlier than he'd expected. Kamijou Touma should've been begging for sleep, his body pulling itself towards his dorm's bathroom, so that he could awkwardly tumble into its bathtub, exhausted, and fall into slumber. Kamijou Touma should've been concerned about getting enough sleep; not only because a lack of sleep should've been negatively affecting his high school career, but, because such was unhealthy.

Kamijou Touma wasn't; he didn't need to concern himself with sleep, anymore. Kamijou Touma didn't need to sleep, he didn't need to eat, or drink. Kamijou Touma didn't need to do anything that would've made him seem even relatively human.

Utterly world-weary, and without any activity better to engage in, for the moment, Touma raised his right hand, upwards, and looked at it. For some moments, nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

At the dorm room's coffee table, a small piece of furniture, light grey in coloration, Kamijou Touma was seated, his legs sprawled out, beneath the table's surface. His posterior was seated upon the floor.

Directly behind him, a bookshelf of average size stood, pressed against the dorm's westernmost wall, with three shelves, each of which had been almost entirely consumed by many different pieces of literary works. Silver, in coloration, the spines of the books, and issues of manga that had been stacked there helped to bring the shelf's otherwise dull coloration to life. Shades of red, hues of blue, and practically every other color of the rainbow, or any number of rainbows.

Tiny objects leapt from the palm of Kamijou Touma's right hand, seemingly allowed past the thing that was both a curse, and a blessing. There were billions of them, jumping from his right hand. Kamijou Touma knew just how many of them there were. His mind could count each one, knowing them, individually, in the time it would take a human being to blink. Resembling a swirling, grey-colored mist, they rose from his hand, dancing, spinning, producing soft, buzzing noises.

Zeeee… nunununuuu.

Kamijou Touma briefly considered what he'd been taught, or, more accurately, what he'd had been told. If he visualized something, just about anything, the nanorobots would obey, and come together, cohering to form the structure. "Keep it simple," they'd said. "Break yourself, and you'll be of no further use."

He'd show them who was using who.

Kamijou Touma's mind travelled directly to "stabbing weapon". Simplistic, savage, not too complicated. Such wouldn't stress him further; Touma was angry, vengeful, frustrated, desperate. At least, that's what he was told. A stabbing weapon could be used to take a life, and ease his apparently existent frustrations, however temporarily. Even if such an action was forbidden, it was a beautiful, satisfying thought to think.

So long as fantasies remained fantasies, no trouble would come of mental catharsis.

Simplistic, straightened, like the tip of a lance, rather than any sort of "traditional" one-handed stabbing, or slashing weapon, Kamijou Touma saw it, within himself. Not within a "third eye"; he saw it, floating before him, blocking his view of his right hand; only the tips of the extremity's fingers were visible.

Zeeee… nunununuuu.

Touma's right hand began to elongate. Stretching outwards, his right hand's four fingers, and its thumb, were forcibly attached to one another. The nanorobots performed their duty, as his mind dictated. Thousands of thoughts rushed past him; Touma could catalogue each. He was performing feats he shouldn't have been able to, but could. The fact that such was occurring wasn't troubling, when it should have been deeply disturbing. From his wrists, and from his upper arms, billions of nearly microscopic things leapt, appearing as the same mist, dark grey in coloration.

The right hand that belonged to Kamijou Touma was no longer a right hand at all. It'd transformed, completely, taking on the form of a fairly simplistic-looking weapon, attached to his arm's wrist. From its tip, to the wrist it was attached to, Kamijou Touma's mist-like nanorobots ran upwards, and downwards, like the stabbing object was a lake, the nanorobots making up its many currents.

Another success. Kamijou Touma was growing stronger, more powerful. Touma was gaining control over this disgusting slap to Mother Nature's face. His lips curled, upwards, exposing his pearly, white, perfectly straightened teeth. Baby steps would lead to great things, he knew it. Every walk had to start somewhere.

His form was 'clothed', but not clothed. Outwardly, Touma appeared to be fairly normally dressed, for the early hours of the morning. That disgustingly typical dark-colored, button-up shirt, with a short-sleeved, orange shirt beneath, a few buttons of the dark shirt undone, to expose the orange coloration, and a pair of simple, long, dark-colored pants to match the outer layer. Both appeared to be wrinkled, as if they'd been taken from some dirty laundry hamper, and thrown on at a moment's notice.

Just as the simplistic stabbing weapon, formed where Kamijou Touma's right hand had once been began to curl, downwards, resembling a sickle, in its shape, there was a disturbance of the peace, and of the secrecy.

In the occupied bed, a few feet away from Kamijou Touma, something shuffled. There were two vaguely body-shaped lumps, the left of which seemed to be moving about. Touma shook his right hand, upwards and downwards. The limpness that should've been present wasn't. There was no weight at all, no firmness, no resistances, no bones and no skin that could be felt.

Kamijou Touma barely felt like he existed at all. From his right wrist, streams of mist-like nanorobots rushed back into his torso, fleeing, as his right hand reformed, re-made by nanorobots flowing downwards, along his right arm, its fingers stretching, moving apart, and becoming individual extremities again on their own.

Zeeee. Nunununuuu.

The bed's plain, white-colored sheets shifted, as the body-shaped lump, on the left side rose upwards, casting back the light comforter. The bed's wooden frame, dark brown in coloration, produced a series of creaks. Streamer-like locks of golden-colored hair were visible, as the body-shaped lump identified itself.

It was, in fact, a she. Swinging bother of her long, majestic legs over the bed's edge, and placing her bare, slender, feminine feet on the wooden floor of the dorm's living quarters, Othinus produced a yawn, as she stretched, leaning backwards, and raised either of her arms into the air, their wrists bending outward, to the left, and to the right, respectively. Five or six inches under six feet in height, Othinus' functioning, visible left eye's lids opened, as did those of her non-functioning right's, slightly revealing the moist, emerald green iris within. Othinus' right eye was not moist.

Reaching down to her breasts, her golden-colored bangs were slightly frizzled, from her body's unconscious rolling, as she'd slept. Kamijou Touma's mind registered an influx of something, data, perhaps, that could've been called "jealousy". Othinus at least had a means of passing the night's darkness by, in the comfortable embrace of slumber.

"One-Eyed" Othinus possessed a right eye, though it was anything but real. It was eye-shaped, appearing as a proper eye, its iris the same coloration as that of her left; but it wasn't of natural origin, nor did it restore her right eye's vision, which had long ago been lost. Constructed of glass, the former Magic God's right eye was incapable of movement, of its own accord, instead simply sitting, affixed into a straight, forward position, forever.

Wordlessly, Kamijou Touma cast his gaze to the former Magic God, who'd risen up from the bed, leaving the body-shaped lump on the right side behind. The right lump rhythmically rose, and fell, with every few seconds that passed.

Othinus' curvy, feminine form was clad in an outfit that could bring a smile even to the face of Kamijou Touma; the influx of what must've been data could've been identified as "amusement". Salmon pink, in coloration, Othinus' sleeping attire consisted of a long-sleeved, buttoned up shirt, which exposed an inch of her naval, and a pair of loose-fitting pants, which hugged her waist. From top to bottom, the outfit's shirt, and pants, were both covered in the repeated image of the same smiling, blushing, cartoonish sheep's face, surrounded by tufts of fluffy-looking, white wool.

"You're up early, Imagine Breaker. Again," the former Magic God mumbled, as she stumbled, groggily. As she yawned, Othinus inquired, "what troubles you, Imagine Breaker? You've hardly slept a wink. Come to bed. The nun won't attack you, I'm certain."

"Can't sleep, tried all night," Touma responded, semi-truthfully. "What's wrong with you, Othinus? You're no early riser. Just get up to bother me?"

"I'm experiencing the symptoms associated with the need to urinate," Othinus explained, between yawns. "This "being a human" nonsense is still so trying. Try to sleep, you fool. We can kick the nun out, and place her in the bathtub. Perhaps you'll sleep better with me."

Nonchalantly, Othinus' body drooped forward, as she quietly smacked her lips together. "You know you always do. Don't be such a prude, Imagine Breaker; finding comfort in another is hardly a sensation to avoid."

Touma shook his head, from side to side, no. "Thanks for the offer. I'm not going to be able to. Trust me. I just have to wait it out; I'm not even tired, I'm just bored to fucking death. Maybe I'll just go out, or something, take a walk around the block. Rental store might be open."

Othinus said nothing more. Rolling her functioning eye, unapprovingly, the former Magic God returned to the bedside. She swiftly tossed the comforter, and the sheets of the bed away from the lump on the right. Sleeping, her lips curled into a wide, warm smile, blushing perpetually, was Index. Clad in a simple, long-sleeved white shirt, the nun with the long, silver hair rubbed the side of her face against the pillow, and mumbled, to herself.

"Tou-ma. Tooooou? Ma. Tooouummmaaaaaa. I'm going to bite you now. Tasty, mmmmm."

Touma rose up, quite swiftly. Without hesitation, and without stumbling as one suffering from the effects of sleep deprivation normally would've, he approached the former Magic God, and folded his arms, once his legs had come to a grinding halt. Standing mere inches away from the golden-haired, perpetually, outwardly fourteen-year-old girl, Kamijou Touma took a stand.

"For fuck's sake, Othinus, don't wake her up. Go take your pee, go back to bed. You need your sleep. I don't. I mean, I can't. I tried for hours, and I got nowhere with it. Just…"

Touma turned his back, and threw his hands up, exasperated, as he walked towards the dorm's door. "Forget it. I'm going out. There's breakfast, for you and Index. Not much, but, it's food. Lunch for you is packed. Yen's on the table. Maybe I'll see you in class. Depends on how things play ou—"

Less of a sensation, and more of an influx of data, which Kamijou Touma could clearly identify, two arms had wrapped themselves around his midsection. Their hands were placed over his upper chest, grasping at nothing. In his back, it'd seemed that the former Magic God had placed the side of her face; the left, in fact, as another internal influx of data detailed.

"Stop this, Imagine Breaker; stop this cryptic nonsense this instant."

Othinus' words, though commanding, didn't align with her voice, which was oddly weak, for such a headstrong individual. The vocalization was pathetic, a small, dying thing that had disappeared into nothingness, once it had fled her lips.

It was Touma's turn. "Stop what? I'm in control. I do as I please, Othinus. Nothing can hold me back. I'm the master of my own destiny, now. You know how long I've been dragged by circumstance. No more.

"You know a lot, about a lot, but, there're things that not even you know, or understand. I understand them; I understand them all, now. You know plenty. But I know everything."

Struggling to keep her voice down, and failing, Othinus spoke up, her following vocalization closer to a shout than casual speech. "You've been doing this for weeks. This is the final straw; nearly four weeks without sleep, without eating, without drinking a single drop of any liquid substance! What is wrong with you, Imagine Breaker? What happened, during those three days? Where were you? Something happened, something that has changed you for the worse. You haven't slept a wink. You've not eaten, nor consumed any liquid, and, here you are, fit as a fiddle. Such is impossible. Stop your hiding at once! I'll tolerate this not a moment longer!"

The normally collected Othinus had lost her cool. Panting, slightly, her face growing red, as blood, liquid anger flowed into her face; it was then that Othinus realized something truly strange, indeed.

Kamijou Touma was cold. Completely and utterly cold to the touch, as if she'd embraced a block of solid ice. His body, which should've been warm to the touch, room temperature, at least, was freezing cold. Blood, which should've been circulating throughout his veins, exuding some level of warmth, wasn't flowing, evidently. Without blood, there was no life; but there he stood, alive.

The left hand of Kamijou Touma, that'd fallen over Othinus own fingers, both those of her left hand, and her right, was cold, as well. There was no pulse. A shiver travelled down Othinus' spine, as her entire body shook, slightly, like some tremor was afflicting her. Only once, not again did it occur.

"Imagine Breaker, every time I have confronted you, every time the nun has confronted you, or those you call friends have tried to confront you, you've brushed us off. It… hurts, you know. It hurts us all, Imagine Breaker. In that heart of gold, I know there's someone who is grieving at your actions."

Kamijou Touma's body wasn't rising, nor was it falling, the way it should've been. For the first time in a month, and three days, Othinus had managed to get close to Kamijou Touma, physically; maybe she'd managed to take him by surprise. Maybe he'd chosen to allow this, maybe he'd even wanted this. The former Magic God couldn't be sure.

She could feel him, and, she could feel his body's lack of movement. He simply wasn't breathing; but he was alive. A contradiction, an impossibility, something not even he, despite all of his victories, and impossible survivals in the toughest of situations, should've been capable of.

The former Magic God's mind raced. Had he been the victim of necromancy, little more than a walking corpse? He wasn't rotting, his form didn't smell of rot. He smelled like nothing. That all too noticeable 'scent of Touma' wasn't present; nothing was.

"I can hold it no longer, Imagine Breaker," Othinus remarked. Taking Touma's cold, seemingly lifeless hand into her own, she pulled him along, behind her; or she tried to, suddenly being tugged, backwards, as Othinus closed the maximum distance between herself, and Touma, that her arm would allow. It was as if he weighed a hundred tons. Touma didn't move. "I have to urinate, and I'm not leaving you alone, out here. Come."

Kamijou Touma relented, stepping forward, and following the former Magic God, anything but reluctantly.

Touma was all too self-aware. This was the moment he, Touma, was supposed to be awkwardly blushing, and shaking his head, trying to make up some nonsensical excuse for why he needed to be somewhere else; but the need to perform such an action wasn't present.

The idea of potentially seeing Othinus' female anatomy, a girl's vulva, didn't bring any foreign sensations. No blushing, no stuttering. Nothing.

There was something, certainly, inwardly, however; an influx of data suggested that it was "pleasure", or, possibly, "the desire to obtain pleasure, carnal or otherwise, as a form of release". Could he even experience pleasure? Was he bound to never to know the purest, simplest acts of love between human beings? Data suggested a sensation, that could waltz hand in hand with such ponderings; possible disappointment.

The door to the dorm's laundry room, and its bathroom was opened. Light grey, in coloration, the door's rectangular knob, which Othinus' spare hand wrapped around, was an even lighter shade. Pushing the knob downwards, the former Magic God shouldered her way, quite aggressively, through the door, bare feet slapping against the cold, wooden floor.

Zeeee. Nunununuuu.

There it was, that sound. Othinus had heard it, before, late in the night, sometimes for hours on end, repeating, again and again, until slumber took her, and blocked the sounds out. Touma, quickly, and, quite uncharacteristically, shook himself free of Othinus' grasp with a viciousness she'd never experienced. From the palm of her hand, Touma had pulled his own hand. Like a chunk of ice that'd been slipped across her skin, Othinus shivered, from the coldness of the sensation.

Whipping her neck in the direction of the boy with the flattened, dark-colored hair, with the intention of delivering the mother of all rants upon him, Othinus' functioning left eye's eyelids instead widened, its pupil shrinking, her lips parting, at the sight before her.

Emerging, from the stump where Kamijou Touma's left arm had once been, a trail of mist, perpetually flowing, like the currents of a river, had attached itself to the exterior of the metallic door. It appeared that it had physically become one, with the door, flowing 'into' the door's surface.

"Fucking stuck," Touma grunted, as he began to step away. There was no resistance; the flowing mist grew longer, in response to Touma's movements. The farther away he moved, the longer the trail of mist became. Was there no limit to it? "G-glitch. Something. I'm… I'm stuck… Othinus… Othinus… help."

The influx of data in that moment could've been referred to as "panic". Shaking his torso, to the left of him, the mist seemed to fall apart, losing cohesiveness. Rather than falling towards the wooden floor, the mist surged backwards, as if it was being collected. The nanorobots that made up the mist were physically pulled back into the main, human-shaped mass that made up the form of Kamijou Touma.

Individual 'streams', made up of billions of nanorobots moved, flowing towards the stump where Kamijou Touma's right arm had been. Flowing into one another, the streams converted, at the stump's beginning, and began expanding outwards, forming a long, vaguely limb-shaped protrusion.

Othinus refused to back away from Kamijou Touma. His lips, having curled, downwards, into an almost guilty-looking frown, broke the former Magic God' heart. His eyes, at first glance, appeared like they had prior to the boy's three-day disappearance; upon closer inspection, Othinus saw the truth.

For the first time, in over a month, she'd well and truly managed to look into Touma's eyes; whether or not he'd been caught in a desperate situation, or, he'd willingly allowed her to peek in, Othinus resigned herself to likely never knowing the answer. The boy's eyes were filled, yet, empty. There was a barely-visible void that was unfilled. They were inhuman, as false as the glass eye that sat in her own right eye socket.

Kamijou Touma's left arm had seemingly re-assembled; the streamers of mist had converged, and had become a solid-looking extremity once again. For the briefest of moments, Othinus had been able to see the resemblance to a human arm, dark grey in coloration, before a layer of light, flesh-colored 'skin' had formed over the arm. The layer of skin, forming, produced no sound; the electronic, staticy sounds that the mist produced seemed to be exclusive to the mist.

The limb of dark grey coloration had been oddly robotic-looking, partially made up of plate-like 'patches', which had melded oddly, yet perfectly with the limb itself. The plate-like 'patches', and the arm itself, looked to have been perpetually moving, buzzing, like the surface of water which had been disturbed by the presence of some water-striding insect.

The light, flesh-colored 'skin' had resembled skin, at least. It'd formed, initially, as more mist, leaping from behind Kamijou Touma, likely from his back. Once it had begun to lay over the skeletal-looking extremity, its color changed, becoming pink, the color of light skin.

Throwing the dark brown, wooden door to the dorm's bathroom open, Othinus practically ripped her pants off, and threw herself down upon the white, porcelain throne. Touma placed himself against the white-colored, non-functional, metallic laundry machine, that sat a few feet away from the bathroom's doorframe, and stood, with his arms folded across his upper torso. He wasn't going to run away, either, evidently. Touma certainly wanted to run away, as fast as he possibly could. Incoming data informed him that such a situation would yield "undesirable results".

So far, the influxes of apparently omniscient data hadn't failed him. If anything, they seemed to have all the answers. Kamijou Touma wasn't going to stop listening to the advice the incoming data provided on a nonexistent hunch.

The sound of liquid, trickling, and making physical contact with liquid rang out, in the silence that had descended upon Touma, and the former Magic God, whose head hung low, her functioning left eye focused on the wooden floor beneath the soles of her feet.

"Othinus," Touma began. There was a seriousness in his voice that was becoming too characteristic. Firmness, and aggressiveness were present. The voice of a commander, coming from a boy who'd almost always been so complacent.

At least his voice sounded the same, in pitch. Othinus clamored for it, letting it wash over her, and bring soft, warm sensations to her ears. Whatever Kamijou Touma, the Imagine Breaker was, or had become, his voice remained the same.

"You never saw that. You didn't see anything. For fuck's sake, you saw nothing at all. Forget all about that."

"What was that? Imagine Breaker, what was that?!"

"God, keep your voice down," Touma scolded. "That fuck in the next dorm will hear. You want him over here, bleating about "Kami-yan" this and "Kami-yan" that? I sure as shit don't. You can't know. Nobody can know. This is my burden to bear, just another one in a long list of burdens."

Nearly forgetting, but just remembering in the nick of time to use toilet paper, to wipe herself, Othinus quickly, but quietly placed the toilet seat back down. Turning the sink's 'H' tap to her right, Othinus washed her hands, in the bathroom's sink, running either extremity beneath a stream of warm, comforting water, as she lathered the bar of soap between their palms.

After using the lower palm of her right hand to turn the 'H' tap back to the left, Othinus dried her hands, using the baby blue-colored towel hanging on the back of the bathroom's door. Othinus' left eye was focused on the surface of the door, studying it, so that she could attempt to distract herself from what she'd seen, even if such a distraction was temporary.

"Too many unanswered questions," Othinus spoke, after some time had passed. Having slipped the pants of her sleeping attire back on, the former Magic God exited the bathroom, abandoning the temporary sanctuary that the surface of the room's door had provided. "It's not an experience I'm accustomed to, Imagine Breaker."

Her left eye moved, to the left, its vision falling upon Kamijou Touma, who seemed content to look down at the wooden floor. Once, or twice, his vision visibly darted upwards, peering at the silver-colored, empty laundry basket, that sat across from the washer, pressed against the wall, a few feet away from the drier. Like its washer counterpart, the drier, too, was white, in coloration, with a simple, translucent door, circular in shape, in its center.

"Where have you been going at night, Imagine Breaker? You don't think the nun and I know that you slink out? You worry her. You worry me. You worry me very deeply."

"Who the fuck are you, Othinus? My wife?" Touma rhetorically inquired. "None of your business where I go, or what I do. None of Index's, either. It's none of your business what any of this is. It's mine, and mine alone. I think I'm doing just fine for myself. I'll shoulder the shit, and I'll deal with it."

Othinus looked upwards, at Kamijou Touma, whose head continued to hang low; Othinus couldn't have been sure, but, it looked to have sunken even lower. The resemblance to a beggar, on a street, was uncanny. If only the boy had his hand outstretched, with a paper cup sitting in its palm, the image would be splitting.

"I'm not your wife," Othinus answered, the slightest hint of frustration in her voice, "but I'm your Understander, and you're my Understander." The former Magic God closed the distance between herself, and her "jailer".

Songbirds could be heard, chirping, outside, somewhere, very likely perched in a nearby tree. Though earlier than expected, not all things were predictable, following a set pattern. They'd arrived ahead of schedule, because they followed no schedule at all. They were not bound to the human construct of time, or of pattern. They were free creatures.

"I know more about you than you do, Imagine Breaker; more than you ever have, or ever could. Riddle me this! The Heatwave comes, and the Heatwave goes; conflict soon passes with it. Days later, you vanish, for a period of three days, everyone who cares for you is searching, high and low, for you, and for you alone.

"You speak like nothing is wrong, once you've returned, hiding from us, hiding yourself away, "shouldering" all of this, like you said you wouldn't. Why? There must be reasoning, Imagine Breaker. This foolishness has to end, here. Can you not see how suspicious this all is, when it's laid out for you, put into perspective? You can't tell me that you can't see it, Imagine Breaker! You have been given more than enough time to have your pity party. Answer me: what happened to you?!"

"Othinus… I'm going to lose my patience, very, very soon. I don't want to do that. You're clearly aware I'm going through something. So, respect me, and drop the subject. Please. I'm… still me," Touma ordered. The vocalization was full of barely-restrained rage, obviously only just held in check.

Only, it wasn't rage. The vocalization had sounded like it floated on an ocean of rage, but, there was no rage present. Rage was an emotion, something 'human', something Kamijou Touma could no longer experience. Touma's all-knowing mind received yet another invisible, shapeless influx of what had to be, what was, data, that suggested the term "desperation".

He lightly, harmlessly shouldered past Othinus, who refused to cease following her "jailer".

"I won't leave yet, alright? We'll have to leave, at the usual time. School, and all that useless nonsense; but that's not for a few hours. I'll go. It's useless, but… it's normal."

Kamijou Touma, in an uncharacteristically forthright fashion, placed his left arm around the shoulders of the former Magic God, as the two walked out of his dorm's laundry room, together. Despite the limb's icy, merciless coldness, it was a source of comfort, for Othinus.

He motioned towards the dorm room's bed; Index still slept, peacefully, her eyes closed, her lips parted, tongue lolling, awkwardly, resting a few inches above the pillow. From the side of her mouth, saliva dripped, as the little, silver-haired nun repeatedly produced soft, vaguely hum-like sounds.

"You'll try, Imagine Breaker? You need to sleep. Close your eyes, and get some. Even if it's only a few hours. It'll do you a world of good. Don't be a fool, like the rest of humankind, as difficult as such a task might be, for you. You can cuddle close, and I will hold you… Understander."

"Yeah. I'll try. Consider it an apology… Othi-chan."

Kamijou Touma clambered into the bed, first. Strangeness. Data, which could've referred to the sensation of "softness" was processed by Touma's mind. It was soft, so very, very soft. The bed's mattress was so absolutely, positively, beautifully soft to the touch, hardly like the "toughness" of the dorm room's bathtub.

Othinus joined her "jailer", and the nun he "kept". Tugging at the sheets, pulling them upwards, and then, pulling the bed's comforter, up towards her chin, and the chin of her "jailer", the "prisoner" inhaled, deeply, held, for some moments, and then released the pent-up oxygen as carbon dioxide.

"You've actually taken me up on my offer, Imagine Breaker. What if I was jesting? You may have just crossed some mental barrier, put in place to protect you from something that can only heal, and never harm. You truly are dense, sometimes."

Touma could only shrug, indifferently, utterly unconcerned. Any embarrassment that could've, or, maybe, Touma didn't quite know for sure, should've been present, wasn't. It wasn't present at all, in any capacity.

"I did; but I don't really care. "Jesting" or not, you're not trying to throw me out, are you?"

An influx of data presented itself, internally, caressing the all-knowing mind of Kamijou Touma. The data suggested "a desire to find comfort" was present; no familiar feelings were present to suggest that such a thing was true. He'd follow what the data suggested.

Touma received more; another barrage of unbiased explanatory data. Index, the little, silver-haired nun to his right has grasped onto his right arm, holding on tightly. Both of the little nun's arms had wrapped around Touma's right arm. She continued to sleep; her brainwaves told all the tales Touma needed to make such a firm confirmation.

Index's body produced an involuntary shudder. "Cold," Index remarked, groggily, as if she wasn't truly in the waking world. She wasn't. Index's mind was dreaming, yet, even through the veil of slumber, the sensation of "cold" got through, piercing the wall, and injecting itself into her little nun mind, and into her little nun dreams.

The former Magic God cuddled closely to her "jailer", nuzzling him, with her body, either of her arms wrapping themselves around his icy cold waist. Touma's clothing did nothing to dull the sensation; the articles themselves were ice cold, like some metallic surface on a cold, winter's day.

"Sleep, Imagine Breaker," Othinus softly ordered. "Close your eyes, and go to sleep. Cease your staring. I see nothing on that ceiling that would indicate there is anything worthy of being ogled."

Kamijou Touma rolled, to his left; Index did not relent. Her slumbering form went with the flow, grasping onto his arm, still, her head resting against the crease between his upper, and lower arms.

"There isn't; but if I turn this way, there's something I can look at. You."

Where there should've been the sensation commonly referred to as "butterflies in the stomach", perhaps, there was none. As always, over the last month, an influx of explanatory data quickly came to Touma's rescue. "Possible romance", it silently, internally suggested. Maybe; more likely than not, little more than a means of encouraging an influx of data suggesting "carnal pleasure", more than likely.

If Touma had been confused about his sexuality, or, more accurately, as incoming data helpfully informed him, his status as a perpetually-virginal weirdo before this 'change', he was only more confused, in the present. Yet, he wasn't. Confusion wasn't a sensation Kamijou Touma could experience. Such strangeness was becoming commonplace.

Othinus, the former Magic God, a being of countless years, was staring into his visual identification modules – eyes, they were eyes, not "visual identification modules".

Why was Kamijou Touma still lying to himself?

Wide, and green, both of Othinus' eyes, false, and real, looked straight ahead, into Touma's own. The former Magic God's arms remained cast around his waist, one beneath him, the other over the adjacent hip. Blushing, slightly, the girl with the lone, functioning eye moved in, rubbing her nose against the cold, solid nose of her "jailer".

"I can't Understand you anymore. I want to, Imagine Breaker, but I can't. Let me Understand you again. I want to be your Understander, again, like I was before."

Kamijou Touma's cold, but strangely soft lips connected with those of Othinus, while the slumbering, mumbling Index still clung onto her "keeper". Touma's icy arms wrapped around the form of the former Magic God, as words became irrelevant. Her curvy, physically pleasing body brought a rushing influx of data that suggested "pleasurable" was what he should think, upon looking at his "prisoner's" form. "Possible romance" was, again, another suggestion, though, "romance" itself wasn't explicitly defined.

Both of the involved parties' eyelids closed.

"Othinus," Touma muttered, between the smacking of their lips. "There's a lot you don't, and can't understand about this. I'm not the same as I was, when we first met. Leave well enough alone, and let me take care of things. Maybe, then, I'll be able to tell you. You won't run, will you, Othinus, no matter how impossible, and terrifying the truth might be?"

The former Magic God pulled herself away, before she began to press her soft, pink lips against the icy neck of her "jailor", huffing, and panting, as she kissed, once, twice, and a third time, never stopping, hardly taking a second to even breath.

"No! I won't, you fool! I won't run! Tell me, Imagine Breaker! Dense, stubborn jester! Have you learned nothing?!"

Othinus' outburst wasn't entirely unexpected; it brought no surprise to Kamijou Touma, either way. Even if it hadn't been expected, no such reaction would've been possible. It did, however, succeed in waking the bed's other occupant, who'd been temporarily forgotten by the former Magic God, in the heat of her temper's sudden flair.

"Tou-ma."

Flopping onto his back, the accused turned his head to the right, in the little, silver-haired nun's direction. Index's big, azure-colored pupils were semi-visible, between the tiny cracks where her eyelids had parted, slightly. Index raised her hands to her face, and began rubbing crust, which had formed over her eyelashes, from her eyes, before she sat up, tugging the sheet, and the comforter of the bed close, wrapping part of it around her, like a cocoon. One of Othinus' legs was exposed.

"Tooouuu-ma. Did you sleep?"

"No," Touma admitted. "Not a wink. It's fine, though. I'm not tired. Just go back to sleep. It's early. I don't have to leave for a few hours. You don't have to let go, and freak out, you know."

Index was too preoccupied to get flustered; she'd caught the former Magic God in the act; the nun's eyes were trained, their vision capable of picking up on movement no human being would normally be capable of picking up, especially through their peripheral vision alone. Othinus placed a kiss to the neck of her "jailer", followed by another.

The little, silver-haired nun pouted, as she glared daggers at the girl with one functioning eye. "You're living in sin. Touma needs to wait until he's married, to engage in explicit behavior. You're not even in a relationship! Sin, sin, sin! I will cleanse you both!"

"Index, don't start," Touma warned. The little nun was taken aback by the domineering tone, in the voice of her "keeper". Since when had he suddenly started taking a front seat, in these things? Kamijou Touma had always been content with slinking away, existing as "the" beta male. At least he was coming around.

"Go to bed. You're going to be tired, if you don't get more sleep. You'll get bitchy, and nobody wants to put up with that. Especially not me."

"TOOOUUUUUUMMMMAAAAAAAAA! I do not get bitchy! You take that back, this instant!"

Index began to rant. Touma hoped even more that he'd just die, even if he knew such a thing was impossible, in the present. There was no reprieve, no door with a blinking "exit" sign that he could walk through. Even if a door was present, even if the key that needed to be applied to the proverbial lock came in the form of a concealable handgun, a noose, or a bottle of pills was presented, the key would do no good.

He turned his head, to the left, and looked into the remorseful left eye of Othinus, whose lips had curled into a frown. She shrugged, as if to say "sorry, Imagine Breaker."

A helpful influx of data suggested that Kamijou Touma show affection towards the little nun, who was obviously offended, and offer an apology, no matter how insincere said apology would be.

Touma rose, with the sheet, and comforter of the bed covering his form. He produced a soft sigh; Othinus found herself questioning what, exactly, had happened to her "jailer" even more.

Touma's icy lips pecked the perpetually-complaining, thrashing nun on her right cheek. Icy; freezing, even. They were, regardless of their temperature, soft. Index's ranting seemed to fade into obscurity, dwindling, and dying, her words chugging, like she was a piece of technology that was experiencing a glitch, or an instance of extreme latency.

Othinus rolled over, to her left, her eyes closing, as she nuzzled the pillow beneath her head. Kamijou Touma put an arm around the shoulders of the little nun, and pulled her close. The forthright nature of the affection startled, but didn't outright displease Index. It was forceful, foreign, and unfamiliar. The boy who'd always preferred to run away, blushing, from situations like these seemed to be embracing what he'd once seemed to have feared.

Index only knew a small portion of the truth. There was much more for the little nun with the silver hair to know; silently, Kamijou Touma hoped she'd know none of it.

"I'm sorry, Index. I shouldn't have said that. You're not bitchy. There are a lot of things happening, right now, that I can't explain. I literally can't explain them, and I can't explain why I can't explain them. Everything's being taken care of, though, that I can say; I can promise it.

"I'm going through a lot; but I shouldn't have allowed that to affect the way I talk to you. Come here, and cuddle up with me. I'll try to get some sleep, with you, and with Othinus."

Index's reply was short. "You must be cleansed of your sins, Touuummaaaa. There is no excuse for your lewd behavior. A man and a woman only sleep together when they're married!"

The little nun's lower jaw flopped open, extremely wide, to the point that it looked like it would snap off, and fall onto the bed. The visualization should've sent shivers down Kamijou Touma's spine. It didn't. Sharpened, gleaming fangs were visible, bathed beneath the dull orange rays of the early morning's sunlight. The little nun's perpetually-wiggling tongue thrashed back and forth, quite violently, as she prepared to dive in for the kill.

The little nun with the silver hair was stopped, mid-lunge. Coldness consumed her. Touma's icy, freezing cold arms wrapped around the nun's waist, halting her assault prematurely. She shook, slightly, as a blush erupted across her face, consuming her cheeks, and her nose.

"Index, enough. This isn't the time for your nonsense. Please, just control yourself. I've got enough to deal with. I don't need you acting like… that."

Kamijou Touma pulled the nun closer, than she'd ever been to him before, in such a manner, as he laid himself back down in the bed. An influx of data suggested his method was succeeding, due to the slowing of the nun's heartbeat.

Index was quite obviously stunned; Touma didn't need to read her brainwave activity to know that. Stunned or not, the voracious nun had been subdued, for a short time, at least.

"Go back to sleep, Index. I'll wake you up when Othinus and I have to leave for school, how's that sound?"

"You're different, now, Touma. I don't like it. What's wrong, Touma?"

"I know, Index. Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine. Go back to sleep."

Kamijou Touma felt either of the arms of the former Magic God, Othinus, curl around him, the palms of their hands running, softly, against the sides of his body. Othinus' form had pressed itself against his back. Incoming data informed him that Othinus was kissing the back of his neck. "Soft", "warm", and "sexy" were among the bank of terms that could've been used to describe the nature of the influx.

Touma's right hand rose, upwards, placing itself against the back of the silver-haired nun's head, the hand's cold fingers running through her hair, and along the surface of her scalp. Touma's left arm had remained wrapped around Index's waist.

After some time, Index, still blushing, as she tightly, and possessively clung to her "keeper", had fallen back into the warm, protective embrace provided by the faceless father figure dubbed "slumber" by humans. Her eyes had closed, and her breathing had slowed. Against Touma's cold upper torso, the side of her face rested, her lips squished, slightly, jutting forward due to the position her face found itself in.

Soon enough, clinging to him like a monkey, Othinus' kissing ceased, and she, too, like the little nun with the silver hair, had fallen into slumber. While Index produced soft humming sounds, as she slept, Othinus was silent, only the sound of her breathing being audible. Like Index's face, the side of Othinus' face was pressed against the form of her "jailor", though, unlike Index, who clung to Touma's front, Othinus clung to his back.

Touma didn't sleep; he had no need to. His body didn't require rest, it required no hydration, no nutrition. Instead of performing a meaningless action that would provide no benefit for him, Touma occupied his time by stroking the back of Index's head, and resting his face against the nun's forehead, even if such actions were inherently nonsensical, and meaningless in nature.

Until the sun's light fully invaded his dorm's living quarters, Kamijou Touma laid there, in the bed he no longer needed, with both of his "freeloaders" clinging to him, both of whom were lost in the endless maze of sleep.

The alarm, placed by the bed, dutifully enabled itself, and began broadcasting a radio transmission, almost certainly from the station Touma had last set the device to broadcast, once the device's set alarm was triggered.

The excited, loud-sounding, and somewhat nasally voice of a faceless announcer was audible, invading his auditory stimuli identifiers. The soundwaves emerged from the tinny external speaker on the top of the device. The announcer was obviously quite happy about something.

7:35 AM, supposedly, the time was. Had he actually managed to throw two or three hours away by simply staring to the left, his vision focused entirely on the wall behind the form of the little nun, who he still cuddled? Did time, as a construct, even matter to him, anymore? Would he ever run out of it, as others would?

The announcer's words had been caught mid-speech; Touma had no idea what the individual was speaking about, or the context behind his words. The announcer mentioned something about a contest, the prize of which was multiple tickets for an all-inclusive trip to London, England.

Silently offering his condolences, or, at least, what surges of incoming data told him were his condolences, to any hypothetical individual unlucky enough to win tickets to such a cursed place, Touma rose upwards, the physical pressure placed on his form by his clinging "freeloaders" rendered irrelevant. He was stronger than either of them, their bodies' respective weights not holding him down in the slightest.

Index, the little nun with the silver hair, was the first to awaken. Her eyelids were slowly opened. She blinked away more crust; light brown in coloration, the hard-packed stuff fell away, onto the bed's comforter. It had formed on her long, delicate eyelashes. Some remained, clinging tightly to the dark-colored hairs.

Index quickly detached herself from her "keeper", and scooted to the far right of the bed, pressing her back against the cold wall. Despite its coldness, the wall was still warmer than the form of Kamijou Touma. Both of her hands' fingers gripped the bed's comforter, tightly, her unpainted nails nearly tearing holes in the fabric.

"Touma! Did you sleep?" The little nun inquired, softly, her face still consumed by a blush. Though lighter, and pink in coloration, rather than crimson, it was a blush nonetheless.

"Yeah," Touma lied, without remorse. Incoming data informed him that such an act was "wrong", but, didn't define what "wrong" itself was. An irrelevant, meaningless word.

"Got a few hours. I feel rested, so don't worry, alright, Index? Just relax yourself. There's plenty of food in the fridge, so, you won't go hungry. Yen, too. Spend as much as you need to, if you're still hungry, but order something in. No going out on your own, unless you're with someone."

Touma rose further upwards, fully standing up, an action which succeeded in unintentionally rousing Othinus, whose arms slithered back, towards her. Touma stepped over the form of the former Magic God, and down, onto the wooden floor. Before he made for the dorm's kitchen, just behind the living quarters, Touma tilted his head to the side, and looked back at the silver-haired nun.

Forcefully, he added, "I mean it, Index. I find out you're wandering out on your own, and you're going to be in deep shit. You want to do something? Get in touch with one of your friends. No going out alone; it's not safe. Do we understand each other?"

Index nodded, somewhat reluctantly. Her lips curled, upwards, into a weak, but genuine smile. She bowed her head, closed her eyes. "Yes Touma."

A satisfying series of rituals, that could've been called a routine followed. Incoming data informed Kamijou Touma that Othinus' body would need nutrition, in order to properly function throughout the day. Normality, or, a small trace of it being injected into complete dysphoria. It was a nice influx of data, a dumping of exposition that brought comfort, no matter how minimal.

Othinus stretched her body, bouncing her legs up and down, as she forced her arms, outwards, and upwards. Touma had made his way to the dorm's kitchen, where, from the sounds that were being produced, both of the girls, laying, and sitting, respectively, in the dorm's bed could hear the sounds of the refrigerator's door opening, and then closing.

Zeeee. Nunununuuu.

The head of the former Magic God whipped to her right, her functioning left eye focused on what she could see of the dorm room's kitchen. Index's head, too, craned in the direction of the foreign noise.

Though there was a square-shaped hole in the wall, which offered the nun, and the former Magic God a glimpse into the dorm's kitchen, Touma wasn't visible. Evidently, he must've bent downwards, in order to fetch something from a lower drawer.

What either party, who sat, and laid upon the bed couldn't see, however, was the left arm, and right leg of Kamijou Touma had been reduced to mist-like streamers, dark grey in coloration, which had merged with the kitchen's sink, flowing, perpetually, into its stainless-steel surfaces like a waterfall into a body of water.

On the floor, Touma writhed, awkwardly, as he shook himself, attempting to restore the functionality of his 'changed' limbs.

From the dorm's kitchen, Touma called out, "Othinus? Breakfast. What're you feeling like?"

The former Magic God's reply was simple, but, spoke volumes, in regards to the number of foodstuffs that were present, in the kitchen of the Kamijou residence. "Toasted bread? Or non-toasted bread, with lunchmeat placed between two slices of non-toasted bread. What is the word used to describe such a creation, again?"

"A sandwich," Touma remarked. The vocalization was followed up by a soft, but genuine-sounding chuckle. Othinus' lips curled upwards, into a smile, upon hearing the sound. "Sandwich it is, I guess. Let me check what we've got on offer."

Zeeee. Nunununuuu.

The refrigerator door had opened, again, the same whistling sound that was produced when the door was parted from the unit itself rang out, in the relative silence of the small dorm. Following the whistling, shuffling noises were produced, followed by the sound of a drawer being opened.

"For meat, we have ham. Slices, not… not the "three-dimensional ham."

Nostalgia; that was what the influx of data suggested should be acknowledged, rather than properly experienced, by Kamijou Touma. Silently, invisibly, the incoming information both provided and dictated.

"The flesh of a pig will suffice," Othinus spoke, rising up from the bed, and swinging her legs over its edge. Stretching, once again, a small, pleasured groan fled the former Magic God's lips. Index, apparently not content with sitting by herself, followed in Othinus' footsteps, and left the bed's surface behind, bare feet slapping against the dorm's cold, wooden floors.

Both the former Magic God, of an age beyond numbers devised by humans, and the nun, only a teenager, had trekked into the dorm room's kitchen. The pathetic size of the room was only made even more evident when more than one individual had packed themselves within its walls.

The vision of Othinus' left eye drifted downwards, towards the right pocket of her "jailor's" pants; or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Where a pocket should've been, there was only a small, vaguely oval-shaped patch of perpetually flowing, current-like, dark grey-colored mist.

As if Kamijou Touma had somehow become aware that Othinus' vision had fallen upon the patch, he turned to the opposite side, hiding it; the left pocket of his pants was both present, and, seemingly, perfectly normal. His sock-clad feet still produced the same soft sounds as they always had, when Touma moved across the wooden floors of the dorm.

Index's attention span seemed to have given out, and, wordlessly, the little nun pitter-pattered off towards the dorm's laundry room. Opening the metallic door, and then closing it behind her, the nun was gone from sight.

The kitchen's counter, crafted of limestone, was light in coloration, a bright shade of silver, dotted with tiny black dots, which were apparently placed at random; they held no set pattern, in their placement. Directly next to the counter's small, but clean sink, was a small cutting board.

A few inches in thickness, and crafted from smooth-looking, dark-colored wood, with a long, vaguely oval-shaped handle, two slices of thick, whole grain bread were placed, side by side. On the board's surface. Upon the visible faces of both slices, mustard had been spread, quite generously, the knife used to spread the condiment cast off to the side, showing signs of its use, along with a label-less jar of mustard, whose yellow-colored cap had been removed, and set next to the jar.

"Enough mustard? Too much? Too little?"

"Stall," an incoming surge of data had suggested, followed by the command "distract".

"Imagine Breaker, your pocket. How, exactly, do you intend to go anywhere, when you've been… breaking, like this? Don't be foolish. You don't want myself, or the nun to know anything about what you've experienced, or what has happened to you, yet, you're willing to step into the outside world, in broad daylight, no less, and expose yourself to, potentially, thousands of people? Do you not realize how little sense your actions are making?

"Is it your education that concerns you, Imagine Breaker? I'm trying so hard to understand you, again. You are too much like a completely different person, from the boy I knew only a month ago. The spy's notes have, thus far, appeared to be congruent with what lessons are being taught by the small pink one."

Having reached back, downwards, towards the refrigerator, Touma had pried both doors open. From one of the translucent bottom drawers of the refrigerator, formed of a hard plastic material, a small, translucent bag containing individual slices of ham had been produced, its bottom left edge being gripped tightly between the index and middle finger of Touma's left hand. Touma had returned to his duty, gently placing slices onto the mustard-covered slice of bread to his left.

"Five slices?" Touma inquired, seemingly dodging the series of questions that'd been thrown his way. "Or, are you trying to slim down?"

"Five slices," Othinus confirmed, producing a sigh. At least Kamijou Touma still seemed to be capable of joking.

The former Magic God approached, from behind Touma, embracing him, and pulling his body close to hers. As she clung to him, Touma continued to dutifully work, laying each slice of meat on top of the other, ensuring as little 'excess' as possible hung over the sides of the lower slice of bread.

Gently laying the upper slice over the lower slice, Touma moved, to his right, trying to inch himself towards the kitchen's drawers. Othinus, seemingly, was trying to prevent such a movement from being executed.

A question was posed, by the former Magic God that embraced him. "How long will you hide, Imagine Breaker?"

"It's not hiding," Touma corrected. "You'll thank me, someday. You all will."

Exhaling, Othinus was exasperated. She broke away, pulling her arms back, from around Kamijou Touma. Standing up, on her toes, the former Magic God placed an affectionate kiss to the back of her "jailor's" neck. The words of the little nun, with the silver hair floated through her mind.

"You're not even in a relationship!"

Did they have to be? No. Othinus didn't think so, consciously. Human constructs were beyond the Understanders; at least one of them was an Understander, still. Maybe the other would return to being an Understander. Othinus would've appreciated that very much.

From the top drawer of the counter, beneath the sink, Touma had produced a silver butter knife. He aligned the cutting utensil up with his culinary creation. The tip of the knife had been placed, from the looks of it, in the exact, perfect center of the sandwich. Slicing, downwards, the butter knife's dull teeth bit into the first slice of bread, and then, into the meat within, before it cleaved, effortlessly, through the lower slice.

Tearing a large piece of paper towel from its roll, which stood next to the sink, on the kitchen's counter, Touma set his creation atop it, and, snaking either of his hands beneath, handed it off to the former Magic God, who took it in either of her hands. Their fingers connected, rubbing, gently against one another. Touma's were still as cold as ice.

"Viola," Touma remarked, sounding slightly more enthusiastic than he had, previously. "Compliments to the chef; eat up. Hope it tastes good."

"Will you allow me to Understand you, once again, when you're ready, Imagine Breaker? I know you well enough, you stubborn, bull-headed fool of a human. You're a fool, but you're not stupid."

Kamijou Touma's response was semi-truthful, at the very least. "Yeah. I'll explain it to you, someday. There're some things I'm going to have to work out, first, before… I'm already saying too much. Sorry, Othinus; trust me, please. I won't let you down, and I'm not doing this to hurt you, or Index, or anyone else. That's the last thing I'd want."

The former Magic God's shrug, and her thin, but genuine smile brought more information, flooding inwards through the most recent influx of data. "Remorse" was one such human experience that could've been attributed to the nature of the data. Another, something more positive, apparently, arrived in response to the smile, which the lips of the former Magic God had curled into.

"Beautiful" was one such term. "Beautiful" had an open definition, referring to a person, object, or state of mind that was pleasing in some way. That smile, her smile, the smile of Othinus, was an image that could've been used as a definition for the term, as well.

Emerging from the dorm's laundry room, Index looked from left to right, wearing a pout on her face. Once her eyes' vision landed upon the form of Touma, she approached him. "Tou-ma. Where are my clothes? Are you hiding them on me? That's not funny, Touma! Also, Sphynx got into the laundry hamper, again, and got his hair everywhere."

The head of the calico feline popped out, from within the little nun's shirt; where, exactly, the cat was perched upon was unknown, though, Touma assumed he was using the nun's small bosom as leverage. Sphynx's big, dark pupils, sitting in the center of his green-colored eyes looked in Kamijou Touma's direction, guiltily.

Then, the cat suddenly leapt out from within the nun's shirt. Pulling himself free, his little body landed, paws first on the wooden floor, his claws protruding, from his toes. Arching his back, Sphynx slowly inched his way backwards, as Index looked on, confused.

"Sphynx?"

The little nun approached, intent on scooping him up, into her arms. He was moving away from Touma, who his eyes were focused on. Their pupils widened, becoming larger, and rounder, as his tail's hair puffed outwards, greatly increasing its size. Sphynx's ears had folded back.

Without warning, the cat bolted away, towards the living quarters of the dorm. Rushing past Othinus, who'd seated herself on the floor, at the table, Sphynx leapt, upwards, diving into the bed's sheets, where he could no longer be seen, lost among the comforter's many vaguely round-shaped lumps.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Index stated, softly. "I hope Sphynx isn't sick. Touma. If Sphynx is sick, we'll take him to the vet, right?"

"Right," Touma mumbled. He left the dorm's kitchen behind, emerging, and making his way back into the living quarters, where he joined Othinus. Sitting himself across from her, Index took Touma's place in the kitchen; the sounds of the refrigerator's door being pried open were audible, disturbing the silence that had descended, since Sphynx's odd outburst.

"Even the feline knows something is wrong," Othinus whispered. "These changes affect even the creature."

"He's fine," Touma remarked, just as quietly, in response. Othinus raised what remained of the right half of her sandwich to her lips, and bit into it. Smacking, loudly, Othinus spoke with her mouth full.

"I'm glad you'll be accompanying me, Imagine Breaker. The one you refer to as "Aogami Pierce" is unbearable. Surely, my desire to not have him as a romantic partner alone is good enough reason for him to relent, in his tireless pursuit."

"Don't be afraid to smack him around," Touma commented. "Fukiyose hits him all the time. The other one, too, the idiot spy. Straighten him out; you don't need me to fight your battles."

"I wasn't implying that I wished for you to confront the fool for me," Othinus spoke, calmly.

Repositioning herself, Othinus folded both of her legs inwards, and placed the top of her right foot over the sole of her left. Sitting upon her folded legs, the former Magic God tossed her long, golden-colored hair back, and produced a sigh.

"I was merely attempting to strike up a conversation, and voice my concerns. Your recent distance is uncomfortable, and, might I say, quite awkward."

Touma leaned forward, resting the left side of his face against his left hand's palm. Balancing his left arm's elbow against the surface of the table, he raised his eyebrows, as he looked deeply into both of Othinus' eyes, her glass right, and her natural, functioning left.

"Maybe I chose a poor subject for conversation. Do you recall the poll I mentioned passingly, previously? Or, have you forgotten? I wouldn't blame you, if you have. It was… weeks ago."

"I didn't forget," Touma said; the lack of enthusiasm is in his voice was practically dripping in his vocalization.

"I feel like I'm speaking with a stranger. When will this cease, Imagine Breaker? When will you come back?"

"You know what the result's going to be. Everyone's going to want to go to England. It's foreign, it's different, and it's not Academy City. It screams "popular". What were the other options? Canada? Who wants to go to fucking Canada? What's even in Canada? Just snow, and indigenous people."

"That is a mere stereotype," Othinus corrected, wagging her left hand's index finger at her "jailer". "I've seen pictures of the capital, Ottawa, on the World Wide Web. It is little different from most modern cities, in both architecture and population count."

More data was incoming; another influx, telling Touma what he should've been thinking, and feeling, regardless of the fact that he couldn't feel a thing. It was an irony not lost upon Kamijou Touma. "Familiarity", the influx silently suggested. Othinus' explanations brought familiarity.

"You've always liked explaining things," Touma said, with a chuckle. "I like listening to you explain things, Othinus. Talk to me; about anything. Just tell me about something."

Index emerged from the dorm's kitchen, passing through the entranceway, bare feet swiftly slapping against the floor. Her lips had curled into an excited grin. Clasped, in either of her hands, was a large sandwich. Rather than being made with two slices of bread, the sandwich's outer shell was made up of two halves, upper and lower, of a large, seed-covered bun. Between either bun, a large stack of many slices of ham, likely ten, but very likely more than just ten sat, plastered with both mustard, and mayonnaise.

With her prize in hand, the little nun set herself at the table, between Kamijou Touma, and Othinus. From the left pocket of her shirt, Index produced a paper towel, which she laid out on the table. Index then took her first bite from the front of the sandwich. Ravenously, Index tore a chunk of both buns, and the meat between them away, smacking loudly, as Othinus had been, before her.

"What would you like me to tell you about, Imagine Breaker?" Othinus inquired, once she'd managed to pry her left eye's vision away from the sight that was Index, who had devoured almost half of her sandwich, moaning in pleasure all the while.

Touma shrugged, still leaning forward. "Doesn't matter. Anything you want to tell me about. I just want to hear you talk about something."

"Well… a new website was discovered on the "dark side" of the World Wide Web," Othinus explained, "dedicated to cartoonish depictions of four-legged amphibians known as "frogs". Whether these cartoonish depictions are, in fact, toads, rather than frogs, is unknown. Most seem to believe the depictions are those of frogs. Some depictions seem to display traits of both."

"Frogs?" Index inquired, between savage bites. "Frogs are cute."

"Quite," Othinus agreed, with a sagely nod of her head. "That much we can agree upon."

No more words were spoken, between the three. Index was preoccupied with consuming her sandwich, until there was not even a single bite remaining to consume. Index was nowhere near done. Rising, from her seat on the floor, Index rushed back, towards the kitchen, where the sounds of the fridge being opened again rang out. Between Othinus and Kamijou Touma, an uncomfortable silence had descended, and remained, until the former Magic God finished the last remaining bites of her own sandwich.

"I'll freshen up, quickly," Othinus began, "and then, we should probably make headway for school, if you're intent on coming to class, this day. Many have missed you, Imagine Breaker. Our sensei especially has missed you. Is there something more, there? Color me curious."

"Probably," Touma admitted, to the former Magic God's surprise. "I'll be ready whenever you are. It'll be nice to see some people. Less nice to see others. You might have to get home by yourself, Othinus."

"One-Eyed" Othinus sat up, stretching her body, as she turned her back to her "jailer". Kamijou Touma watched the former Magic God's posterior sway, from side to side, as she made her way towards the laundry room.

"Nice," a silent influx of data suggested, as a possible outlook.