Bonus: A Certain Magical Index, or perhaps—
At a certain research facility—
“Dammit!! What the hell is going on here!?”
Kamijou Touma’s shout was swallowed by the roar of relentless gunfire—a metallic downpour echoing through the corridor. Diving around the corner, he narrowly escaped a horizontal storm of bullets and snapped at his companion beside him.
“I wasn’t told about this! Why the hell are we suddenly being shot at like crazy!?”
“How should I know!? Ugh, if I didn’t have dead weight slowing me down, we’d already be out of here safely!!”
“What did you say!? If they weren’t using those Mental Out countermeasures, I’d have had this under control already!!”
Taking cover alongside Touma were two of Academy City’s Level 5 espers: Misaka Mikoto and Shokuhou Misaki. The three had been dragged into an incident while trying to save a certain girl—
“...Mental Stinger. To think they’d distribute a similar ability just to counter me. Using students like puppets to weaponize their powers... it’s the perfect example of how rotten those adults are.”
“Maybe it’s obvious, but seriously—when even Level 5 firepower gets nullified like this, we’ve got a major problem!!”
That girl was Mitsuari Ayu—the root cause of it all.
Ever since Shokuhou Misaki had crossed paths with Kamijou Touma, she’d begun her plan to disband the Dark Side. Naturally, that made her a thorn in the side of Academy City’s upper echelon. She had been careful, but even she wasn’t flawless. Thanks to Mitsuari’s scheming, Shokuhou had been captured and nearly turned into a component of a Five Over unit.
Touma had rescued her from that fate—but before they could even catch their breath, Mitsuari, unconscious and defeated, was suddenly taken by an unknown group.
According to Misaka, who had arrived late to join them, all the recent events surrounding Shokuhou had been orchestrated by a mastermind seeking to divert attention from their true objective.
A massive conspiracy was unfolding, using the chaos of the Dark Side’s dismantling as cover. Its real goal—Academy City’s “Throne Usurpation.”
“...Who gives a damn about some throne of Academy City?”
Touma had dismissed the grand plot with a single line, even though that “throne” was said to grant control over half the world’s power.
“Mitsuari said it once. ‘Why...? Why couldn’t you make it in time for me...?’”
To Touma, those words carried a heavy weight.
“I can’t remember it anymore, but back then—she must have been calling for help. I was supposed to save her.”
A clear failure—and worse, one he couldn’t even remember. He had left her behind for far too long, left her to sink into darkness.
“I’ll save her. No matter what.”
That much was already decided.
Kamijou Touma could never abandon her. Not ever.
“I’ve had enough of being dragged down by crap like the Dark Side or some stupid throne. The delusions of those miserable old men—I’ll crush them all with this right hand!!”
Having finished replaying the memory, Shokuhou slipped her remote back into her bag and spoke.
“Self-pity is fine and all, but you haven’t forgotten your resolve, right?”
“...Of course not.”
Maybe he didn’t need the flashback to remind himself—but even so, something had shifted inside Touma. He stood, clenching his fist with renewed determination.
“But seriously, what do we do now? Those soldiers are just innocent students under Mental Stinger’s control, right? And thanks to those weird power suits, even my electricity doesn’t work properly on them...”
“I remembered something from the ‘replay’ you showed me, Shokuhou.”
Touma peeked from behind cover. The gunfire still raged on—charging in head-on was suicide. Yet there wasn’t a hint of panic in his expression.
“Mental Out and other mental-type powers work by manipulating the moisture in the brain. So if someone’s body fluid balance gets seriously disrupted, those powers can’t function correctly.”
“And? Don’t tell me you’re planning to lose half your blood again like last time or something?”
“Of course not. It’s the opposite.”
“Huh?”
“Mental Out can be canceled by my right hand. That means the brainwashing from mental powers isn’t complete—it’s an ongoing effect being constantly applied. ...So doesn’t that mean we can jam it?”
Final Chapter — I Don’t Know What “Predetermined Harmony” Means - Theory_"was"_Broken.
Bonus: A Certain Magical Index, or perhaps—
“...Still, seeing it like this gives me the creeps.”
The one watching that scene was Block’s leader, Saku Tatsuhiko, his tone dripping with boredom.
Before him stood a massive monitor. On the screen, students under the control of the stolen Mental Stinger were methodically cornering the intruders.
“Normally, Level 3 espers couldn’t pull this off. Guess it’s the combo of the powered suits and your skills, huh, Yamate?”
“Pretty much. That mad scientist—Undulation, or whatever his name was—he’s annoying as hell, but I’ll give him this: his tech’s the real deal.”
In front of the monitor stood a man in work clothes. The short-haired Yamate typed furiously across multiple keyboards, his fingers a blur as he coordinated a dozen soldiers like extensions of his own body.
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t controlling the soldiers directly. He was operating Mitsuari, the captive esper who possessed the Mental Stinger—and through her, the soldiers.
No other Block members were present. Neither Teshio nor Tetsumou were there; both had been “loaned” to Undulation for the King’s Usurpation operation—or, more accurately, conveniently sent away.
“Still, we couldn’t show Teshio this. He’d bolt the second he saw something like that.”
“Yeah?”
“...Saku, you’re a natural leader, but you don’t get people. Keep that up, and one day you’ll piss him off enough that he’ll betray you when it matters most.”
“Then I’ll leave that kind of management to you. As long as you’re around, this organization runs fine. Right, Block’s tactician?”
“Heh, you sure talk pretty when you want to.”
Saku smirked fearlessly. Yamate replied with a wry grin, fingers hammering the keyboard once more. Instantly, the soldiers advanced—closing in on the intruders with machine-like precision.
Neither Railgun, Mental Out, nor Imagine Breaker could neutralize these soldiers. Against the dark side of the city, those untainted “heroes” had no means of resistance.
At least, that’s how it should have gone.
Then—
The monitor suddenly filled with torrents of water spraying in every direction.
For a brief moment, Yamate froze, puzzled by the sudden phenomenon. But his sharp analytical mind quickly reached the answer.
“...Sprinklers? What are they trying to pull by flooding the place with water?”
“...Damn it!!”
Saku realized it immediately.
“The Mental Stinger works the same way as Mental Out—it manipulates brain fluids to control the mind! So if the moisture balance in the air between the esper and the target gets completely thrown off... wouldn’t that disrupt their control!? Just like how Mental Out can jam other people’s brainwave interference!!”
A fatal weakness unique to an ability that functioned through water manipulation.
By triggering the building’s fire sprinkler system, the intruders had exploited that very flaw. It was a clever move—one that could potentially disrupt the entire control network.
However—
Even now, Yamate’s composure didn’t waver.
“You’re overthinking it, Saku. Sure, the Mental Stinger manipulates brain fluids, but that’s on a microscopic level. Even if the air’s moisture changes, that’s just droplets—macro scale. No problem there. This ability isn’t so fragile that a bit of water spray could jam it.”
He said this calmly as the soldiers continued to advance.
Apparently, the intruders had realized their trick hadn’t worked. A spiky-haired boy dashed out from behind cover, trying to evade the gunfire—but a bullet pierced his skull instantly. One shot. Dead.
Two girls erupted in fury at the sight. Misaka Mikoto unleashed a bolt of lightning, but the sprinklers shorted the current—electrocuting both of them instead.
The soldiers didn’t hesitate. They moved in and finished the job with precise headshots.
“...Was that wise? You could’ve captured the Level 5s alive.”
“Overconfidence kills. Besides, Railgun’s ability’s already been reproduced by science. As for Mental Out—given the same funding and setup as Mental Stinger—we can easily recreate her. Killing them’s no loss.”
Speaking as if it were nothing, Yamate turned away from the screen showing their corpses.
Their deaths were pathetic—utterly mundane. Just another day in the dark, crushed beneath routine malice.
Heroes, protagonists—it didn’t matter. The city’s darkness was too cruel for exceptions. Step into it half-heartedly, and no matter how pitiful your end, you had no right to complain.
Thinking that, Yamate reached to recall the soldiers—then froze.
He couldn’t move them.
The soldiers... wouldn’t respond.
“Wh—what...!? That’s impossible! The sprinklers can’t jam the Mental Stinger! There’s no reason for the soldiers to stop moving!!”
“Having fun now, are you?”
A voice.
A voice came from the other side of the monitor.
It was the voice of the boy who’d just been shot through the head moments ago.
A voice that should not have been possible.
“H—huh…?”
“You didn’t think it was strange? We’ve got Shokuhou—a specialist in mental-type abilities—on our side. If the sprinkler trick could really jam psychic powers, don’t you think she’d be the first to know?”
The boy, Kamijou, continued from the other side of the monitor.
“Sure, we were trying to jam your so-called Psychological Penetration: Mental Stinger. But we never said how, did we?”
The monitor still displayed only the corpses riddled with bullets.
Which meant—
“You guys aren’t actually there. You’re watching remotely and controlling your soldiers from afar. But a Level 3 psychic like Mental Stinger doesn’t have the specs to transmit real-time sensory feedback while controlling that many people at once. So if we tamper with the video feed you’re using… that alone is enough to jam your Mental Stinger.”
The monitors they’d been watching—had been hacked.
Kamijou’s voice pressed on relentlessly.
“And while we were at it, we traced exactly where that video signal was being transmitted. …Get ready. You’ve been pulling some nasty crap, but now we’re coming for you. I’m gonna crush every last filthy illusion you’ve got.”
With that final line, the monitor cut out completely.
—Misaka Mikoto.
With that Level 5 around, altering video feeds would be child’s play. Only now did Yamate and Saku realize just how badly they’d been outplayed.
“Hey!! What do we do, Yamate!? Those two Level 5 espers are on their way here! And we’ve got no soldiers left!! How the hell are we supposed to fight monsters like that without hostages!?”
“Shut up!! I’m thinking!!”
Slamming both hands on the keyboard, Yamate immediately stood.
“…It’s no good. We can’t win if we fight here. We retreat. Link up with Undulation and restock our weapons. He must’ve planned for a clash with Level 5s—he’s bound to have something critical up his sleeve.”
“Y-yeah… right. Okay, then let’s hurry and get to Undulation—”
“—Ahh, you mean this Undulation guy you’re looking for? You talking about this shark?”
The voice came from behind them.
The two men froze instantly. They knew they had to turn—and that death awaited if they didn’t—but their bodies refused to obey.
Still, they forced themselves to move, joints creaking like rusted machinery as they turned—
And there he stood.
A man with short, spiked blond hair. Over a pitch-black outfit hung a white lab coat—the garb of a researcher—yet his presence was as predatory as a thug prowling the backstreets at night.
Most striking of all: a tattoo-like blaze of four primary colors covering the right half of his face.
Saku muttered in disbelief.
“No… way…”
“What’s the problem? That your boss showed up here as a severed head?”
The blond man swung his right hand casually.
Clutched in his blood-soaked grip was the massive, severed head of Undulation.
But Saku shook his head in stunned denial. The fact that his employer was dead wasn’t the shocking part anymore—something far worse stood before him.
“Or is it the fact that Kihara Amata just walked back into the room?”
Kihara Amata.
The man who had supposedly been executed long ago by Kihara Noukan now stood alive before them.
“Seriously, you idiots. What a boring-ass plan you came up with. Using the Mental Stinger to mass-produce brainwashed soldiers? Launching incidents all over Academy City to scatter the ‘heroes’ and ‘dark heroes’ so you could quietly steal the throne? Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic!!”
Amata spread his arms wide, as if welcoming something grand.
“This is a rare chance, y’know! If we’re gonna scheme, then let’s make it a way more fun conspiracy, you bastards!!!!”
“You… you’re supposed to be dead…!?!?”
At that moment, Yamate’s mind finally rebooted. He drew his pistol and aimed at Amata—only for his upper body to vanish in an instant. Not even a mist of blood remained. It was as if he had been erased from existence.
“Wha—Yamate…!?!?”
“Tch… anyway, you guys.”
The being standing there—identical in every detail to the real Kihara Amata—spoke in a tone dripping with boredom.
“…Why did you ever think killing one ‘Kihara’ would be enough to wipe us out?”
The other man’s lifespan didn’t last much longer than Yamate’s.
Having effortlessly eliminated the mastermind behind the incident, Amata kept his arms open and declared—
“If this were ‘the correct history,’ the story would end here.”
He said it with a fearless grin, as though declaring war on the entire world.
“But it doesn’t end. Because this world’s tale isn’t some pretty story where heroes save the weak!”
Just like Reicia Blackguard once was. Like Shiren. Like Misaka Mikoto, Kihara Nayuta, Nurikae Onorei, Hamazura Shiage, Frenda Seivelun, Kuriba Ryoko, Kakine Teitoku, Kihara Souji, and Shokuhou Misaki once were.
“This world is a history of those who rise again after falling!”
Kihara Amata pointed out a single truth.
“It’s a story that blesses the losers who failed miserably, the ones who’ve known defeat and despair—but still have the will to fight, the resolve to crawl back up again! Even if they have to pick a fight with so-called ‘common sense’ itself, they’ll seize the best damn happy ending they can! It’s a world where the scum rise again!!!!”
Then what of this man—who, even after suffering the greatest defeat of all, death itself, still stands and laughs at the world?
“I told you already, Noukan, Aleister. It’s not over yet. Nothing’s over.”
The very premise of everything had already collapsed.
“So come on. Let’s get started—this lowest, worst kind of rebirth!!”
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