Chapter 147: A Woman Worthy of a Miracle

"It looks like things have finally settled down."

Thanks to Index’s efforts, the “Original” Oriana Thomson had been neutralized. After safely reaching Oriana’s true body and forcibly shutting down the barrier, Reicia returned to Kamijou and the others.

The surroundings, which until moments ago had resembled a long, tunnel-like corridor, had reverted to the dimly lit halls of an ordinary laboratory. Seeing this, Reicia must have immediately grasped the situation.

"Yeah… looks like it went well on your end too."

"Yes. Reicia-chan did faint for a bit from the enemy’s magic, but… you all managed to take care of things, didn’t you? She came to just a moment ago."

In truth, Kamijou hadn’t done much directly. But by destroying the connection between Oriana—the interface—and the Original, all spellcasting through the Original had been forcibly terminated.

He hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but if that had helped, then he was glad.

"So… what about the guy?"

"Oh, I had him carried outside the lab. Most likely, Anti-Skill security will pick him up soon enough."

As Shiren, Reicia had wanted to personally follow up on Komaba due to the Skill-Out situation, but there was no time for that now. She slipped her contact information into his pocket and decided to leave things be until the Kihara Amata affair was resolved.

Unaware of these behind-the-scenes details, Kamijou nodded simply.

"I see. That’s good to hear. But still…"

His gaze drifted to the woman lying nearby.

Oriana Thomson.

Though freed from her cross-shaped restraints, her situation hadn’t truly changed. As a Roman Catholic spy who had infiltrated Academy City, she had used her own spell to reduce herself to a near-vegetative state the moment Kihara Amata captured her, preventing any secrets from being leaked. Even severing her link to the Original hadn’t solved that problem.

Naturally, this wasn’t something a magic amateur like Kamijou could fix—

"Oriana…"

"Well then, now we can finally get serious about saving her!"

Just as the mood turned heavy, Index’s cheerful voice shattered it like glass.

Kamijou, who had resigned himself to Oriana’s fate as a tragic loss, blinked in bewilderment.

"Huh? Wait—she’s practically brain-dead, isn’t she? Even magic can’t fix that, right?"

"That depends on the condition. From what I can tell, she broke her mind down into separate pages, scattering the information so no one could peek inside properly. But if we just put those pages back in place and rebind them into a single book, she’ll return to normal."

She said it like it was nothing, but the way Xochitl and the Original Oriana recoiled made it clear just how outrageous her claim was.

And yet, perhaps it did make sense. If someone’s mind had been split apart by magic, then Index being able to reassemble it wasn’t so far-fetched.

And so, with Index unable to handle magical power herself, she and Xochitl worked together for five minutes.

"Okay, that should do it. Thanks for helping, Adabana."

"…I don’t mind, but let’s never do that again. Every time I use knowledge other than the Original, it feels like this thing inside me is seething with jealousy, and it makes me horribly sick…"

Such was the unique suffering of someone who bore the Original within her. Even so, the fact that she risked herself to help others spoke volumes about the goodness in Xochitl’s heart.

"Anyway, Oriana’s back, the case is resolved, and now all that’s left is Kihara Amata."

"Right. Up until now we’ve only been on the defensive, but from here on, it’s our turn to strike back. We’ll go after Kihara Amata—"

"About that… I actually just got word from Souji that—hm?"

The tension in the room had eased somewhat. Everyone was focused on discussing their next move when—

So naturally, no one noticed until it was too late.

"…T-Touma!?"

Kamijou Touma collapsed.

Finale Chapter: As If to Make the Entire World an Enemy — Are_You_Ready?
Chapter 121: A Woman Worthy of a Miracle — Requirement_of_Heroine.

"He's in hypovolemic shock! He’s lost too much blood! I can handle some first aid, but at this rate…!"

"Out of my way!!!"

Nayuta’s urgent diagnosis was cut short as Reicia shoved her aside and rushed to Kamijou. Countless "fractures" flashed around her, and in the next instant, an invisible armor wrapped around Kamijou’s entire body.

"…I compressed his body with ultrasonic pressure to stop the bleeding. At least now, he won’t lose any more blood."

By manipulating airflow through the "fractures," Reicia had applied ultrasonic psychokinesis. Even Kamijou’s right hand couldn’t negate it. The bleeding was halted. That much was certain.

But Reicia’s expression did not brighten.

The bleeding had stopped, yes. But unless new blood could be supplied, the shock symptoms would not disappear. He might not bleed out, but the danger of dying from shock itself had not gone away.

And then—

"…Wh-what… is this? What’s… happening…?"

The trembling voice drew their attention. A girl stood frozen in horror at the sight before her.

Her face pale, she staggered closer to the boy now lying collapsed.

"Wait! What is going on!? I—I was attacked by Kihara Amata, tripped in the middle of the fight, and then—why is Kamijou-san the one like this!?"

"……"

To Shokuhou Misaki, the scene unfolding before her was almost a replay of a nightmare.

That day, too, she had been caught in the schemes of adults. In the midst of that struggle, the spiky-haired boy had stood to protect her—only to be wounded, collapsing before her eyes.

It hadn’t been her fault. But it had been her circumstances that drew him in. And to protect her, he had fought and fallen.

And now, once again, before the honey-blonde girl’s eyes, the spiky-haired boy lay fallen.

"Kamijou-san is currently in hypovolemic shock. Nayuta-san is preparing emergency treatment, but… anesthesia is required for that."

"……"

Among Nayuta’s functions were muscle relaxants and anesthetics. Administering them was possible. But anesthesia also lowered blood pressure—and with Kamijou’s already dangerously low from blood loss, further lowering it would mean death.

Yet without anesthesia, no treatment could proceed. With the wound still open, they couldn’t just leave it. Even if the bleeding had stopped, Kamijou was headed toward a slow death.

Unless—

There was one person present who could overturn those premises.

"Shokuhou-san. With your ability, you should be able to reproduce the effects of anesthesia—without lowering Kamijou-san’s blood pressure."

"…ah."

At this moment.

At this very moment, the spiky-haired boy’s life came to a crossroads, and a girl stood before it.

Shokuhou Misaki, the queen who ruled over human minds, fell into silence.

Memories surged through her mind.

That incident. The deadlock. The Queen Diver, Spear of Usurpation. And Kamijou Touma’s aftereffects.

She quietly covered her face with both hands.

"…I can’t. I can’t do it…"

It was the raw scream of a fourteen-year-old girl’s heart.

"‘Last time,’ I failed! I saved his life, but… he couldn’t even remember me afterward!! So what about this time!? Even then, some unforeseen tragedy struck—and if I do it again, what will happen now!?"

Her sobbing voice trembled as she went on.

"This time… this time, he might not even recognize me at all. Even if I speak to him, he might never answer again. No—worse. Something even more fatal could happen inside his brain!!!"

And so, she couldn’t.

It wasn’t about whether it was possible with her ability. She couldn’t even step up to the starting line.

From a purely rational standpoint, it was the wrong choice. In a crisis, when someone with the necessary ability refused to act, it was a failure, a mistake. By logic, it would be marked as a flaw.

But who on earth had the right to condemn her for this?

To demand of a mere fourteen-year-old girl—one who had given her heart in a reckless, all-consuming love—that she reopen the scars of her soul, gamble everything again, and then scorn her for breaking beneath that burden? Who could ever pass judgment on that?

"──That sort of thing is none of my concern."

Reicia Blackguard—or rather, Shiren—cut through the girl’s cry without hesitation.

"It’s not as if I have to entrust it to you. Worst case, I could cut off Touma’s right arm, or have Oriana unleash the full power of the 'Original' against Imagine Breaker until it overloads. There are countless ways to neutralize Imagine Breaker and then have Index give a lecture on healing magic. There are plenty of options."

Shiren, ever calm, laid out paths to salvation. With the experience of having once looked down upon a single correct answer called "True History," she could conjure as many visions of success as needed, no matter how absurd.

But.

"…Even so, if you had the means to save him right at hand, and you chose not to reach for it—could you forgive yourself? …If it were me, I could never forgive myself."

Moreover, Touma had collapsed after being wounded in his fight with Shokuhou. And the one at his side in that moment… was Shokuhou. For that alone, she must feel the weight of guilt.

She had been saved by him.

For someone who had always whittled away his own body for others, she could do nothing—only stand idle, watching as someone else rescued him.

If she had to endure that, then surely Misaki Shokuhou’s heart would break. Faced with all the other girls who wished to stand by his side, she would unconsciously take a step back.

Even if the entire world tried to comfort her, even if they all spoke kind words, the only person who could never forgive her would be Shokuhou Misaki herself.

Was that really acceptable? Shiren quietly pressed the question.

"…But."

Lowering both hands slowly, Shokuhou whispered. She dropped her gaze to the ground, as though fleeing Shiren’s eyes.

"But what if I fail? I already have a record. I faced the exact same situation once before—I tried the exact same thing, and I failed! I left lasting damage to his brain! If you have a method that’s more reliable than mine, then of course the overwhelmingly correct choice is to take your way instead, isn’t it?!"

"──Then tell me. If it’s correct, can you give up your love?"

The counterstrike came.
Not from Shiren, but from Reicia.
The words stole Shokuhou’s breath away.

"To not rise here for Touma’s sake… to just stand still and watch us save him while you do nothing—what do you think that means? A heroine in love is not a title given to a girl who merely waits. If the man you love is suffering, if he must be saved, then you must spit on any pathetic notion of 'correctness' and rise up for him. Otherwise, you have no right to call yourself a heroine!! If you don’t want to be just another self-deluded wannabe, then even if it isn’t 'right'—even if you must fall to the role of the villain—you stand up for the man you love, no matter how disgraceful! A girl without the resolve to leap into any hardship has no right to call herself a 'heroine worthy of reward'!!!!"

With a defiance that seemed to challenge the entire world,
Reicia Blackguard declared.

"…Honestly, you ought to be crying and thanking me right now. I wanted to move ahead and save Touma quickly, but some airheaded would-be harem girl had to go out of her way to throw salt to the enemy—"

"Reicia-chan. That’s enough."

Cutting through her bravado, Shiren quietly looked down at Shokuhou.

No hand was offered.

This story would mean nothing unless Misaki Shokuhou stood up on her own.

"……How dare you talk like you know everything…"

A mutter slipped from the honey-haired girl’s lips.
The spark of her words flared instantly into a wildfire of emotion.

"Of course I can’t give up!! Don’t you dare reduce my feelings to something so flimsy!!!!"

She shot to her feet and grabbed Shiren by the collar. Shiren, in turn, slapped her hand away with one sharp motion.

"In that case, that’s fine. …Touma-san, I leave him to you."

With those words, Shokuhou finally understood. She had been entrusted.

…The truth was, Shiren, Reicia, even Index—who had silently watched until now—all of them had wanted to act first and save Kamijou.

After all, each of them had a vision of how he could be saved. But they also knew that if they took action, it would deal a fatal blow to one girl’s love. That was why, even though they wanted nothing more than a quick resolution, they left the choice in Shokuhou’s hands.

They even went so far as to encourage the girl who had lacked the courage to take a step forward.

"……………I’m sorry. And… thank you."

Saying only that, Shokuhou moved to Touma’s side and knelt down.

"In his place, I’ll save him without fail."

Even if, after this, her relationship with him would be shattered forever.

She swore on the strength carved into her very being that she would save him, no matter the cost.

Gently brushing the spiky-haired boy’s sweat-soaked hair aside, she pressed the remote against his temple.

And with a single phrase, whispered like a prayer—

"I am a woman worthy of miracles."

Gently, softly.

For a moment, Shokuhou was too stunned to react to the fact that she was being hugged.

Before she could process it, Oriana Thomson—the "Grimoire Original," her form overlapping Shokuhou’s like the layered pages of a vocabulary book—was bending down, enveloping her completely.

“…Wh—”

The startled voices didn’t come from Shokuhou, but from Index and Reisia, who had been watching. And no wonder—Oriana Thomson’s soft body was beginning to crumble into countless pages, flaking away.

“Haha… well, you see… I was always just a patchwork of unstable ‘Original’ fragments to begin with. Disposable. Something that self-destructs after casting a spell. I was never meant to last long… and it looks like I’ve finally hit my limit.”

“No way…! Then, if Index could somehow—!”

“Even if you rebuilt me as a copy, it still wouldn’t be me in the truest sense. The functions might be the same, but the experiences I lived through—the ones that shaped me—those wouldn’t carry over.”

Oriana smiled softly, gently chiding Reisia. Yet her face carried no despair. If anything, her smile held the refreshing clarity of someone who had found hope in her final moments.

It made sense. The shorthand Original was unstable from the beginning—designed to collapse once its role was fulfilled. If some error had granted her temporary stability and a human form, that was never guaranteed to last. And she had already gone far beyond that, wielding spell after spell well outside its design. The end was inevitable.

“And so,” Oriana said, “since I’m about to shut down anyway, I want to leave behind one last miracle. To a girl worthy of receiving it. As a magician, that feels like the best ending I could hope for.”

Nestled against the honey-haired girl, the "Original"—no, the worn-out remnant of a magician who had once only wished to help someone else—smiled peacefully.

“『What I wanted was a ‘Reference Point.’』”

That was the root of one magician’s being—the core of all her motives. With a faint, nostalgic warmth, the "Original," who carried the same heart as Oriana Thomson, continued.

“But the truth is, that ‘Reference Point’ was inside me all along. What I really wanted was the confidence to stand tall and say it was right. It was never about whether it truly was right or wrong. Even if it wasn’t right—even if it was a mistake—that didn’t matter. Even if the whole world stood against me, I should have reached out, following my heart.”

And so, Oriana declared it. With a divinity like an angel bestowing grace upon a saint, she turned to the honey-haired girl and said:

“Gathering every last scrap of useless wisdom that makes up my being, I’ll give you a little ‘gift.’ …This is the end point of 『Basis104, the One Who Bears the Foundation』.”

From Oriana’s crumbling body, a gentle light spilled forth.

“…Lady Blackguard, sever Kamijou’s right hand. If you don’t, Oriana’s ‘miracle’ will—”

“No,” Index cut in firmly, though smiling softly. “It’s all right. The blessing is only meant for the long-haired girl. Tōma’s right hand won’t kill this illusion.”

Her voice carried certainty as she declared:

“Because you… you’re someone who can pray for another’s happiness… as if it were your own. That’s why… the miracle you wished for will surely come true. The world may be cruel, filled with harsh twists of fate… but even so… this pure illusion of yours won’t go unrewarded. This world isn’t so hopeless… that something so innocent would be cast aside.”

It was salvation—one found by a magician who had once despaired of the world. And those words became her final farewell.

Smiling with satisfaction, the "Original" dissolved, returning to a mass of paper and light. A magician’s existence ended, carrying with it the certainty that someone had witnessed her answer.

At that very moment—

BOOOOOOM!!!

An ambulance came crashing straight through the outer wall of the laboratory.

The linear-drive vehicle, sparking with violet electricity as it inexplicably floated in midair, slowly descended. From its roof, a girl leapt down.

A brown-haired girl in a nurse’s outfit glanced at the stunned group, then sighed in exasperation.

“Oh my, everyone’s here already? How cold, leaving me out of the party.”

It was the third-ranked esper—Misaka Mikoto.

For some reason dressed in a nurse uniform, she wore a cocky grin, blowing away the somber air in an instant.

“…Honestly, you could’ve spared a thought for my poor bones, you know? Riding in an ambulance that flies at supersonic speed—that was a first, even for me.”

“Ugh, I almost threw up,” muttered Misaka as she crawled out of the vehicle, exasperated by how far her beloved boy’s crisis had pushed Onee-sama to unleash her maximum specs.

And it wasn’t just the Railgun who appeared.

From the safely landed ambulance emerged an elderly doctor—the Frog-faced physician, Heaven Canceller—and one of the Sisters, Misaka Imouto No.10032.

The nurse uniform was most likely Heaven Canceller’s sense of professional pride. Perhaps he felt that when involving others in his medical practice, there should be a clear ‘boundary’ marked by attire. Probably. It couldn’t just be a hobby. Probably.

Beside the frog-faced doctor busily preparing equipment, Mikoto pulled out her phone and said:

“Baba contacted me. He said that since communication with Reicia had been cut off, there was a chance of trouble, so he reached out. Following his instructions, we prepared treatment. …Judging by how things turned out, it was the right call to come.”

“Mr. Baba…!”

『Don’t get sentimental on me. I just gave the backup support anyone in my position would. …After all, I bailed out halfway through. If I didn’t at least do this much, cashing my paycheck would’ve left too sour a taste.』

“Mr. Baba…!!”

While the young lady and the so-called Dark Side were reaffirming their bond in their own way, the situation shifted.

With Mikoto and Misaka Imouto supplying power, Heaven Canceller began the treatment.

Watching the scene absentmindedly, Shokuhou thought to herself:

（…………Ahh, so miracles really do exist.）

And then, the next day.

Kamijou had been safely transported by emergency. Though he had lost a great deal of blood, thanks to perfect hemostasis, the suppression of shock, extremely fast and flawless first aid—and his own extraordinary toughness—he was already transferred to a general ward by that night.

After school.

In the hospital room of that boy, three of Tokiwadai’s elite young ladies gathered to pay him a visit.

“Kamijou-san? Are you here?”

Moving with casual familiarity, Reicia opened the door. Since Kamijou often wound up hospitalized after magic-related incidents, it wasn’t unusual for her to check on him like this.

“Ah, Reicia! Short-hair! Long-hair! Welcome!”

With a rattle, the door slid open fully, revealing Kamijou in bed peeling an apple while Index sat beside him, eyes shining in anticipation.

…Sure, their roles looked reversed, but that was nothing new for them.

Without missing a beat, Reicia walked over, smoothly took the knife and apple from Kamijou, and continued peeling. Behind her stood the other two girls, while Kamijou raised a hand in greeting.

“Yo. We both managed to make it out alive, huh. Oh, and I heard Misaka showed up at the end? I was already down, so I didn’t know, but thanks. You really saved me.”

“That’s right! You left me out completely! Next time you’d better call me from the start!”

“Hmph. Short-hair, now you know how I’ve felt, don’t you? If you’ve learned your lesson, then whenever you’re with Tōma, you’d better invite me too!”

“I mean, I don’t even have your number…”

Looking a bit awkward, Mikoto scratched her cheek before sitting down on a stool. Reicia, already peeling the apple with practiced ease, gave her a sympathetic smile.

“But this time, the timing was just unlucky. If something like this happens again, I’ll be sure to rely on you properly. So forgive us, all right?”

“…As for me, I only ended up causing trouble… I’m really sorry.”

Behind the two seated girls, Shokuhou bowed her head quietly.

It had all happened because she had selfishly asked for time alone with Kamijou. He had been hurt protecting her when she stumbled, leaving an opening.

If he’d been injured this badly, the blame lay with her.

Kamijou himself probably didn’t even remember anymore.

But still, she wanted to apologize. That was the reason she had come.

“What are you saying, idiot? Of course it wasn’t a bother. …Besides, I didn’t even manage to protect you properly back then. You were scared too, weren’t you? Stop making yourself out to be the villain.”

“…If we’re being honest, though, this incident started with me. Everyone else only got dragged in. If anyone should be bowing their head, it’s me…”

Kamijou said it as though the idea of her being at fault was absurd, which drew a wry smile from Reicia. Up to that point, it was the usual back-and-forth.

Then—

The world stopped.

No, not literally. But the flow of conversation froze, everyone’s thoughts cut short.

“…………What?”

One word. The honey-blonde girl murmured it, dazed.

That exchange should have been impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Because Kamijou Tōma could not remember one particular girl. The neural pathway for recalling her had been physically destroyed. He could remember the incident, yes—but not the honey-blonde girl at its center.

And yet.

“Ka-Kamijou…san…? Just now… what did you say?”

“Huh? Oh, just that I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you back then—”

“That’s not it!! Why—why can you remember me!?”

“Hah? Eh?”

Shokuhou nearly grabbed him by the collar, her voice frantic. Kamijou could only blink in confusion. Reicia, Index, and Mikoto, who knew her circumstances, also froze as though they’d just witnessed the impossible.

Into that silence came a voice.

“The human brain is a mysterious thing, you know?”

The frog-faced doctor spoke warmly to the bewildered girls, his smile gentle—genuinely glad that one of his patient’s burdens had been lifted.

“There are times when a memory pathway gets blocked off. And just as easily, something can trigger a dormant pathway to reconnect. …If we were to force an explanation, perhaps under the Mental Out’s influence, your brain was bathed for a long period in faint signals—similar to the Third’s AIM diffusion field, for example. That kind of constant electrical stimulation may have reactivated the lost circuit. But maybe I should phrase it more simply, in a way a young lady would appreciate?”

And then the world’s greatest doctor said words that hardly sounded like those of a physician.

Namely—

“It’s a miracle.”