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I have very mixed feelings as I look at 'myself' in the bathroom's mirror.

Contrary to what I had expected, the Kuoh girl's uniform doesn't look that bad on 'me'.

I dare say, I even look cute wearing it.

In a rugged, slightly punk-ish, dangerous-sexy kind of way.

…Which is a whole can of worms that I'm not going to open now, thirty minutes before the Entrance Ceremony, or I have the feeling that I'm possibly going to freak out.

I'm happy that I found a way to deal with the short, shortskirt, though, once I went looking through 'my' closet: skirt shorts.

…Those I didn't know the name of previously, but, again, somehow knew for some reasons, and was very glad I had, considering that, a) very short skirt and b) tattoos in Japanese society equal big social no-no.

I should know: I had to jump through a few hoops during my two week trips a literal lifetime ago to go to the onsen without being looked at weirdly, even if the country's inhabitants tend to ignore when it's an outsider who's inked.

Anyway, skirt shorts, of which I had a full regalia, were currently saving both my modesty and social life, and I was glad.

I kind of rock the look, if I have to be honest.

I flush a notch as I make myself this reflection, before shaking my head emphatically.

Worldview shattering revelations later, school now.

…I still give myself a coy look through the mirror before flicking off the light.

***​

This morning definitely had been easier to go through than I had expected.

I mean, the bUzZiNg still wrecked me, but it was magnitude less than the previous day, and gone after a few minutes of meditative breathing.

I mean, not gone, gone, since, well, iT nEvEr Is, but at a low background noise level.

I was, dare I say, even optimistic, thinking that I probably could go even further beyond and truly 'mute' it if I tried hard enough.

What was the point of being inside of a shounen/echi universe if I couldn't get the results I wanted when trying hard enough, after all?

I narrow my eyes in thoughts, my right hand coming to cup my chin, my left busy holding my school bag over my shoulder, since 'I' had made the mistake of buying one without shoulder-straps.

…Or maybe there was a point that currently escaped me because I was a stranger to women's fashion sense?

Thank fuck Japanese education ran on uniforms, because otherwise I would have been utterly fuckedtrying to piece a proper, socially acceptable outfit for my first day.

I shake my head, chasing the idle and useless thoughts and coming back to what's truly important.

Namely: my continued survival.

I had vast cosmic powers, at least on paper, yes, but I was at the same time the textbook example of a glass-cannon, which didn't fill me with unfiltered confidence if I had to be honest.

Which meant that I had to find a way to raise my body parameters, just so I could 'nigerundayo' out of danger's way if I needed to.

I could possibly, someday, unlock Warp-teleportation, a perspective which didn't freak me out as much as it would have before taking the measure of the local Immaterium, and it'd probably be safe.ish.

But it wasn't something that was available to me right now, and the good ol' 'aight, Imma high-tail it!' was looking mighty seducing, in case two bullshit-class entities started duking it out in the vicinity.

Which, considering the town I was stuck in for at least a year, if my understanding of the legalese of my scholarship was accurate, was a rather high probability.

I sigh aloud, my 'free' hand coming to rub the bridge of my nose.

I was honestly regretting not reading the DxD novels right about now since I had no idea about the precise, accurate, timeline, beyond the first three seasons of the anime, which I had to admit I had watched while being absolutely sky-high.

Only way to bear with Issei's character I had found, personally, but, come on, haut wamen, give me some slack here.

So, hazy -and I'm being generous here- memories and knowledge gained through osmosis were the current backbone of my knowledge of the setting.

Which wasn't much, but was admittedly better than nothing.

At least, I knew about the different power systems, if they could be called as such-

I blink.

-including Touki, which was rumored to be unlockable through overwhelming physical exertion, if Saiagorg's tale was accurate.

…Considering I didn't have the time, nor the brains, to work on Human Magic -math? blergh- and since I had arguably better at my disposal, now that I had confirmed that I didn't risk to spawn an accidental breachead when throwing Warp energies around, it could become my angle.

Furthermore, it was also an additional exercise for my Will, considering I'd have to push really, really hard to unlock life-force based bullshit.

And a strong, healthy Will makes a safe Psyker.

I sigh heavily.

I used to hate physical exertion and sports as a rule of thumb, and my new circumstances were aiming to make me a gym-rat.

…Gym-bunny would be more accurate, though, now that I think about it.

I'm wrenched out of my -slightly depressing- musings as I finally near the gates of Kuoh High-School, and I instantly start to channel all of my spy-like energies to give everything around a good, discreet, gander-

I freeze, forcefully hiding a powerful wince.

-only to realize that, dear god, that's a lot of people and a lot of emotions running wild right now, tHe VoIcEschirping happily in the Immaterium, feelings of Joy, Happiness, Camaraderie, the odd Boredom and Normalcy being mixed in, and the ugly, sad, outliers of Despair and Self-Loathing.

Wow.

Wow.

…I have a feeling that school is going to be an exercise of my Will altogether this time around, and not because of the reasons I could have thought of.

I mean, who gives a fuck about having surprise-boobs and learning to deal with them when you also have to deal with every random emotions of every person around?

I take a breath, before slowly exhaling, my eyes closed.

I take another breath, and settle myself into my meditative pattern for a bit, becoming a rock amid a sea of Feelings, letting them wash over me, become background noises, but not getting moved by them.

It takes me, to my best estimates, a good, solid minutebefore I can open my eyes again, and proceed to do what the hell I intended to do before the reality of being a -baby- psyker hit me with the subtlety of a brick to the head.

I give it my best to look nonplussed as I resume walking, my eyes panning around-

-only to land on gorgeous, very distinctive, bright red hair, next to silky-smooth -and isn't that weird that I can tell it is from afar?- jade black ones, in the middle of the crowd.

My left ball -erh, breast- that those belong to Rias and Akeno, given the height and slight unnaturalness.

Well, there goes my wishfull thinking about successfully avoiding canon by the simple fact of being earlier, I guess.

I frown to myself, annoyed, before making my way toward an unoccupied spot against the wall, leaning against it with a huff.

The out-of pattern exhalation throws me off balance, ThE wHiSpErS get louder, and I have to take another good minute to settle all of them down.

By the time I'm successful, the bell rings, and everyone starts to shuffle inside, making their way toward the school's auditorium.

***​

I feel like deadpanning, even as I, with great difficulties, abstain myself.

Because on the podium, right in front of us, is Sirzechs Lucifer himself, playing the 'happy but concerned' school board member and giving us the education equivalent of the shovel-talk.

You know the one: 'Work hard now, so you can live fruitful lives later, or else'.

Which is kind of ironic considering the guy was literally born with both a silver spoon comfortably stuck in his mouth and enough magical might to wrestle with gods and come out of it barely ruffled.

But this isn't the whole reason I'm feeling like deadpaning to the world at large right about now.

No, the thing that takes the cake is the fact that he is-

"He is so dashing in his suit, like a prince."

-wearing his full demon lord regalia and nobody gives a-wait a minute.

My attention snaps toward the nearest voice I heard, part of my brain telling me she's Dreamy right about now, and I try to focus on what she just said.

"I know!" her friend, next to her, a busty brunette, honest to god giggles, before answering back, "But I'm afraid you'd have some competition if you wanted him to take you away on his horse. I mean, look around."

My eyes pan around, seeing the very tilted toward the female side of the population auditorium all sharing the same kind of conversation.

I blink.

Oh.

Oh.

…That's definitely one way to discover that I'm at least immune to low-level hypnosis/mind control bullshit, I guess.

***​

"Hanako Prima, pleased to make your acquaintances, and I hope you'll treat me well." I give the class a smile from my standing up position, before bowing respectfully, and sitting back down.

Outwardly, I'm showing a serene and calm look.

Inwardly, I want to scream.

No, I didn't land in Issei's class, my luck isn't, apparently, that bad.

My current issue is the very intrigued look a certain very red haired -it's even more impressive from up-close- is giving me.

Good news: I'm apparently two years early.

Bad news: I'm in the same class as both Rias Gremory and Akeno Himejima.

I wished I had more time during the whole of the entrance ceremony and I guess my wish had been granted, but, alas, a finger curled on the monkey's paw.

I'm an interesting character in close proximity to a weeb of a devil who's fascinated with intriguing, slightly outcastish, people.

…This next year is definitely going to be a challenge, isn't it?

***​​I sigh audibly as the bell signaling lunch break gets heard.

Luckily, this time around, I don't instantly derail my breathing pattern by reflex, and tHe VoIcEs remain relatively quiet.

I rise after putting away my stuff in my school bag, giving my desk a distracted glance-wait a minute.

I look behind me.

One seat from the back.

I look to my left.

Next to the window.

I pan my eyes around the class, a frown on my face.

…Did I get the class' 'protagonist' seat or am I hallucinating?

I almost want to chuckle to myself at the absurdity of my reasoning.

Me? A protagonist?

And the pigs can sure as hell fly, yeah.

***​

"Is this seat taken?"

I'm wrenched out of my thoughts and my cursory read of my previously made notes by a musical, titillating voice.

Nonplussed, I turn myself in its owner's direction-

-only to instantly want to deadpan to the world at large.

I not-quite lock eyes with a positively beaming Rias, her little food tray in her hands, blood red hair artfully falling around her face, enshrining it as if it is a work of art, a demure and polite Akeno following her.

Unbidden, my eyes dip to Rias's bust-

-and I feel my cheeks redden because, dayum, girl is fucking packing-

-which a cursory glance to her tag-along tells me that Akeno somehow manages to outshine her, and I refuse to believe that this kind of breast size is actually something that just exists.

Side-note: what a way to discover that your sexual orientation didn't change with your gender, I fucking guess.

I lock back eyes with her two sky-blue orbs, before giving her a shrug.

"Feel free, I guess."

Her only answer is a little happy hum, before she plops herself smack-dab in front of me, and I go back to my readings.

At least, what was talked about in math was only some basic bitch stuff that I already went over a lifetime ago, making it some sort of refresher, which means that, when combined with my shorthands technique acquired at Uni, it should be way easier to cruise through high-school this time around and-

"What are you doing?" the red haired devil in front of me asks, wrenching me out of my musings.

I look back at her, slowly blinking.

"Reviewing?" I answer, a bit confusedly.

She gives me back a look just as confused as mine.

"On the first day?" she slowly asks, "The two first classes?"

Oh, Rias, you sweet summer child.

Of fucking course you do if you don't want to get fucking swamped real quick, especially when you know jack-shitabout Japanese literature and history beyond 'we lost WW2, lul'.

I may know Japanese now for some reasons -add 'had a whole language dumped in their brain' to the 'list of things I'll freak about later'-, but I didn't get the relevant knowledge dump about those two subjects, and I can already tell it's going to kick my fucking ass.

At least, I know how to write in the three different, relevant, ways, silver lining and all that.

I sigh softly, once again managing not to throw myself out of focus and keeping ThE wHiSpErS at bay.

"Literature and history aren't my strong suit, I'm afraid." I answer noncommittally, before giving her a nod, "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Hanako Prima."

"No worries, ahah." she beams back, the girl just so happy to be here that the Immaterium sings it aloud around her, "I'm-"

"Gremory-san," I nod back at her, making her blink, before looking in Akeno's direction, "and Himejima-san. Well met."

"Likewise, Hanako-san." the classic japanese beauty answers softly.

Inwardly, I'm actually genuinely impressed: there's no way I would have known how she really is under the perfection of her mask.

But mommy raised no fool, and I'm going to keep that whole hot mess of daddy issues and sadistic tendencies a whole bay away from myself.

Rias gasps aloud, almost, but not quite, slapping Akeno's arm in the telltale 'see? I told you!' gesture.

My urge to deadpan is getting stronger by the minute, but I'm refraining myself in favor of taking a bite of my omelett.

Side-note: the food's quality of the cafeteria is actually quite good.

It'd be better if I didn't have to maintain an ironclad focus of my breathing pattern so as to not instantly get plagued by the mother of all headaches, but I could see myself eating here for the rest of the year at lunch.

"You already got our names?" Rias probes, visibly intrigued.

Of course I do, I've spent years reading about you getting railed by so many OCs, it would be quite difficult to forget.

…Which actually makes it a bit weird to interact with her in a true fashion, now that I think about it.

I give her a one shoulder shrug, taking another bite.

"You're the two tallest girls in the class, it kind of draws the eyes." I bullshit her.

Which is, ironically enough, true: from what I eyeballed, the three of us are roughly of the same size and are not-quite towering over our fellow schoolmates.

It'll probably change as the years pass, but, for now, it is indeed quite noticeable.

The red headed devil lets out a quiet 'Oh' of realization and Akeno giggles.

I give her a 'confused' look in answer.

"What kind of answer did you expect, exactly?" I ask archly.

"N-Nothing!" she stutters, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair, forcing me to bite the inside of my cheeks so as to not laugh in her face, "Nothing at all!"

I keep giving her a quizzical eyebrow for a beat longer, before going back to my omelett, my eyes already drifting back toward my coursework.

"I really like what you did with your hair," she rebounds, making my eyebrow twitch because apparently, she cannot take the hint that I'd really like being left alone about right the fuck now, "What gave you the idea?"

My intrusive thoughts tell me to answer 'a character generator in a game', because it'd be hilariously on point and tongue-in-cheek both.

"The heat." I answer easily instead.

"Uh?" she audibly 'blinks', forcing me to look back at her.

I straighten in my seat, taking another bite and swallowing quickly.

"You're European, correct?" I probe, instead of answering.

I half-heard her lying her ass off about being from europe earlier today, conspicuously forgetting to mention from which country she came from.

"Y-Yes, I am!" she answers, a bit forcefully.

"Well, congratulations for your flawless pronunciation, Gremory-san, then." I 'congratulate' her, and discomfort flashes on her face for a beat, because she sure as shitdidn't learn the language by herself and relies on her devil powers to carry her through the day.

Not like I should be the one throwing stones at that particular glass house, because beyond a few sentences, memes and 'yamete kudasai', I sure as hell wasn't fluent before no later than yesterday.

But if I can make fun of her while she's bothering me, then I'm perfectly willing to do so, because I'm a little shit like that.

"Summers in Japan can get very hot, and very humid." I explain offhandedly, "One day, I got enough of having the lovely impression of being boiled alive in the middle of July, and gave myself a side-shave. This way, I can deal with it a lot easier than if I had kept my hair untouched.

"Honestly, Himejima-san has my respect, because I just simply can't imagine having to deal with that climate with hair that long without any help of sorts."

Actually, I do: my current shoulder-level haircut isn't even the longest I've ever worn in my life.

And I was one hundred percent being honest about long hair in the summer: it's a slow way to torture yourself.

Alas, it takes ages to grow, so you deal with it.

And use scrunchies.

I chuckle, before shaking my head, "How do you do, exactly? Got a magic trick in your sleeve?"

This time, it's Akeno's turn to not-quite startle, making me smirk internally, especially when the both of us lock eyes and I see the ghost of some panic shining in her purple orbs.

Yeah, I'm being an ass.

But, come on, this is funny!

Not everyday you can interact with bonafide anime characters and mess with them.

I keep looking at her 'hopefully', not giving a hint that I know something they don't, until she puts her hand on her cheek and sighs softly.

Damn good act right there, I can see how she'll get her 'Hime' title in a few months.

"Alas, I'm afraid I don't, Hanako-san." she answers with regrets, "This is the reason why I always wear mine in a ponytail, after all."

"Drat," I 'tsk', crossing my arms under my bust -noticeably smaller than the two whales I'm currently talking with, but my 90C, if my memories are correct, satisfy me amply, and isn't that a thought?-, "Sure as hell would've been convenient."

"But…" Rias trails, her eyes squinting as she thinks, "What do you do if you have, I don't know, a date or something, and want to be presentable?"

I give her a slow, lazy, blink.

Wordlessly, I tilt my head to the left side, shifting my dark-brown mane from one side to the other with a few, smooth motions of my hand-

-and when I straighten to look back at her, I got a perfectly acceptable haircut in polite society.

She gapes.

I smirk.

"I do something like that," I wink at her amusingly, "And use a copious amount of hair spray to make it stick."

Thank fuck I had lost myself on this random YT video about the current haircut trends roughly a decade ago and didn't completely made a fool of myself here.

"That's so cool!" she gushes, eyes shining, somehow.

I know, that's why it'll become popular in a few years in the western countries.

Well, that, plus the fact that it trended with those who, ahem, batted for the home team, as they say.

…Kind of ironic that I got one, now that I think about it.

Talk about self-fulfilling prophecies, I guess.

"Thank you, Gremory-san." I answer politely, going to take another bite.

Sadly, this interaction only marked the future dynamic between the heiress of destruction and I, since she promptly elected to become my friend afterward because I was, I quote, 'the coolest girl she ever met'.

Needless to say, I got very mixed feelings about that particular statement.

[AN: Compression of chapter 2 and 3.]Last edited: Nov 19, 2023 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Cipkenop, TogaAFung, Bi_Ti and 1,254 othersClarencelackClarityOct 16, 2023Reader modeNewAdd bookmark Threadmarks Threadmarks The voices, tHe VoIcEs - Chapter 2 New Threadmarks Oct 16, 2023Add bookmark#5ClarencelackClarity"Your writing made me want a vagina" -A.Chapter 2 : Blood-red.​

I step inside my house and close the door behind me, before letting myself fall against it with a weary sigh.

Turns out? Rias Gremory is clingy.

I mean, kind of expected that the sheltered heiress still in her honeymoon phase of her Japanese dream would be overly excited and happy to be here, but by god wasn't I wired to stoically endure that kind of behavior for a whole day straight.

Because, yes, she ended up pestering me for the rest of lunch break.

And at each one of the other breaks between classes afterward.

And even kept talking my ears off for a solid half-houronce school was finally done for the day.

I only managed to dip after apologizing once I told her that I had 'things to do at home'.

I mean, yeah, the girl barely got any notions of boundaries, and I should be annoyed by it, but she's kind of like an overly excited puppy, in a way.

And I don't really want to kick her away because she's genuinely honest and endearing, from what I've seen so far.

As for school itself, it was…

Well, there's no two ways around it: it was kind of boring.

Manageable-boring, but boring nonetheless. I think I get it now why I was so much of a slacker in the schoolwork that didn't really interest me the first time around.

But, well, I survived Uni, if only by the skin of my teeth, so high-school isn't that bad in comparison, and I had a feeling that I'll be able to pull this through with honors as long as I'm taking things seriously.

I had a new lease on life, after all, even if it had been thrown on me without my say so and with a few extra complications, and I was at least resolved to do better for myself this time around.

I could endure the boredom. Plus, the incidental exposure therapy to, what, a thousand and a half people in close proximity, was doing absolute wonders for my focus.

Bar this morning slip up, I had managed to keep tHe VoIcEs at bay successfully the whole day.

I not-quite hip-check -or is it dumpy-check, eh- my door, kicking my uniform's shoes off negligently because, fuck it, Japanese society is kind of stuffy and I'm done for today, and make my way toward my bedroom.

Let's review today's schoolwork, then I'm going to see if I can't find a gym nearby.

Clubs only properly start next week, after all, and I'm aiming for the Kendo Club, a smart move considering the big ass arming sword in my basement.

So I should start on that Touki project of mine as soon as possible.

Schoolday, followed by club activities, gym afterwards, schoolwork, rinse and repeat.

…God, I'm turning into a functional member of society, and all it took was literally getting sent ass over teakettle across a few dimensions.

***​

I glare at the entrance of the gym I found nearby like it offends me on a profound, visceral, level, a little sports bag thrown over my shoulder.

Granted, it kinda does.

I never, ever, liked sports, physical exertion and I meshing badly as a rule of thumb.

I guess I just never really saw the point when all people generally said about it was 'it's good for your health, especially once you'll get old'.

Considering how 'getting old' was a nebulous concept to me at best, I never went further on the fitness path than 'runs a few miles every two mornings for a few months' before dipping out once I got done with the concept.

Now?

Now, well, my continual survival in this 'trap world' may or may not rely on my capacity to run away.

And when death is merely the less worse option, considering there's literally an entire race enslaving others to bolster their number traipsing around, I was now actively reconsidering that whole stance about 'sports being dumb'.

That was also part of the reason why I wasn't already running for the hills and staying in Kuoh: the devils here were a known quantity, and could take me saying 'No' to their face without throwing a tantrum before ultimately electing that my consent was entirely optional.

Technically, being a Psyker in a safe-ish environment was a guaranteed path to uberness down the line, if I kept training and improving.

And I was going to do that, actively, for the next few years.

Only, I had no idea how I actually scale on this world's power-levels, and my knowledge by osmosis of the setting had only tangentially made me aware that the bottom line was more or less '-and it gets worse!' and '-then, there is this asshole'.

My ignorance of the high-end baddies' true strength and the fact that I didn't want to put all my eggs in the same basket all guided me to one conclusion: I wanted the life-force manipulation bullshit that would allow me to facetank frontliners without moving an inch.

Alas, I knew, oh, I just knew, how much I was going to hate the whole process, every step of the way.

With a last, final, decisive, huff, once more managing to emote without throwing myself off-balance, I take the last steps toward my personal hellhole for the foreseeable future.

At least, it beats being captured and reduced to a cumdump by a bat-winged asshole every day of the week.

I step next to the counter, where a tall, bald, Japanese man, built like a brick shit-house, with muscles over his muscles, is busying himself tapping at a computer keyboard while squinting through comically small glasses.

My lips quirk up involuntarily at the image, before my expression turns flat once more.

"Excuse me, Ojii-san?" I wave at him, choosing to sidestep a few social conventions because, if the owner can't take it, I'm dipping out instantly.

No way am I going to spend time regularly here if the 'owner' isn't at least somewhat personable.

Japanese society is stuffy, especially for a 'local', and I refuse to get hassled by holier-than-thou pricks while doing sit-ups because my life depends on it.

He wrenches his attention away from his monitor, a frown forming on his face-

-before he blinks when his eyes land on me, his demeanor shifting from annoyed to a mix of perplexed and curious.

Well, looks like this will be a keeper, I guess.

"Yeah, shoujo-chan?" he starts, unknowingly raising his own estimation in my book a few notches by taking the bait and accepting to play my game, one of his hands coming to his face to put away his little glasses.

"I was wondering if it would be possible for me to set up a subscription." I start, in a no-nonsense tone, "I'm into fitness and just moved in. Do you happen to have some free spots?"

He barks a slightly incredulous laugh, before giving me a wide grin.

"That we do, that we do," he answers easily, clasping his hands with each other, "Not many gym-rats in this little town, I'm afraid, Shoujo-chan.

"Though, I'm curious, how old are you exactly?" he probes, an eyebrow raised.

"Fifteen-" apparently "-Ojii-san." I answer back.

"So young and already looking to take care of your body like the temple it is?" he asks, a little bit bewildered and his eyebrow, if anything, climbing even higher, "Kami, not many younguns like you, especially the girls.

"Say, you in that fancy-schmancy school two blocks away?" he carries on, jerking his head in Kuoh High-School's direction.

I snort a laugh at that.

"I'm afraid so, Ojii-san." I answer, a bit amused.

"Well, lucky you, I guess, 'cuz I'm legally obliged to give you a discount. Now, usually, I'd be annoyed," he explains even as he raises out of his chair, "But since you're actually the first from that school even bothering to swing by, I won't even get mad."

I chuckle, before ruefully shaking my head.

"That's actually a relief, Ojii-san. I'm afraid I'm not swimming in money."

"Is zat so?" he throws over his shoulder after gesturing for me to follow him around, giving me a hairy eyeball.

"I'm only here because I got a scholarship." I answer easily, "Ward of the state."

He pauses, his attention on me intensifying.

I halt in my steps.

"Well," he slowly starts, before nodding to himself, "Would be a shame if these old bones weren't giving it their all for a hard working young lass like yourself, Shoujo-chan. Follow me, we'll see where you're at, and what we need to work on."

He starts walking again, and my apprehension over the whole thing recedes a notch.

I guess I can be lucky, sometimes, and meet an affable fellow willing to lend a hand.

***​

I settle down on my meditation mat, back in the Basement, my mood a strange mix of upset and satisfied.

Upset, because sports.

Satisfied, because, turns out, I was fit and relatively goodat it.

…Which, considering I got sleeved in a younger, beautified, version of my game character, sort of made sense: it would've been pretty hard to haul ass away from Nurglite Cultists if she hadn't.

The short of it was that I had a decent baseline, for a human at least, even surprising Ojii- Toroko-san -the owner/coach actually gave me his first name at the end of the session, both because I had 'impressed him' and he 'had a feeling he would see me coming back soon, not like those posers who swung by two times a month'-, which meant I wasn't starting from rock-bottom at the very least.

Toroko-san still worked me to the bone -just my luck that I landed a slave-driver for a trainer, but I can't really complain here, at least I got one- and I had a feeling that I was going to feel it tomorrow morning.

Needless to say, the bath once I came back had been positively heavenly for my weary muscles, and now, after a well deserved dinner, I was back to what truly could make me a threat too big to bother with: Warp manipulation bullshit.

Skully, ever helpful, and apparently somewhat connected to me on some level since I didn't even need to ask for it to show me the page I wanted to look at, projects in its holographic, neon-green glory, the reference for the 'spell' I want to practice.

Fun fact: it took me a while to notice, but apparently, the whole training guide is written in Low Gothic, which is both kind of funny and useful, since it means that I won't have to encrypt the whole thing to keep it from prying eyes, in case I need to.

Granted, it won't stop the clever cookies -looking at you, Azazel, you man-whore of a fallen angel- to eventually crack this previously unknown language, but at least it means it is relatively idiot proof in case someone managed to lay their greedy paws on my servo skull.

How do I even know how to read Low Gothic? No fucking clue, even if it, once again, makes sense, so I suppose I'll add that to the 'list of things to freak about later' and deal with it when I have the time.

A few minutes later, I nod to myself, satisfied that I got the steps properly memorized.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, and opening myself a bit more to my connection with the Immaterium of the local universe.

Instantly, ThE vOiCeS get louder, but instead of letting them wash over me as if I'm a rock amid the current, I pull them closer, letting tHe WhIsPeRs take me for a ride, my right arm extended in front of me.

I expected to find this difficult, challenging even.

In fact, this is downright easy.

My eyes flutter open, my temples throbbing gently-

-only to land on the cyan pseudo-crystal shards, hovering, circling, around my forearm.

One of my fingers twitches.

One of the crystalline construct launches itself forward, going through the hologram Skully is projecting, flying through the air like it has been fired from a gun, a low, echoing, whistling sound accompanying it, until it embeds itself in the wall facing me with a dull 'thump'.

My lips curl up a notch in satisfaction.

Right, I can work with this.

I let the spell fade, the construct dissipating back into the local Immaterium, and tHe VoIcEs quietening-

-until my eyes land on a particular line on Skully's transcript.

Blood-red points?

I frown.

My constructs, my Shards of Hatred, didn't have any blood red-

I blink.

Oh.

Oh.

The guide was written for an in-setting Psyker, with an in-setting Warp.

Only, here, there was no Necron to fuck things up at the start, and no Eldarii to make an ever bigger mess of things later on.

Here, the sea of souls and thoughts is quiet, not quite like a still lake, but more like the normal ebbs and flows of a sea.

And blood-red is the color of War, Rage, Hate, ofKhorn.

That's why this spell is colloquially called Shards of Hatred, after all.

Which means…

I open myself once more, tHe BuZzInG getting instantly louder, almost as if it knows what I'm going to do.

I form the spell, a second time, only, this time, I deliberately call to the darker thoughts of humanity.

War, Hate, Agony, Suffering, and so much more.

They wash over me, and I let them, only asking them to coalesce in the form I chose.

It takes but a moment, before my eyes open again-

-only to land on blood-red tipped cyan pseudo-crystal constructs, similar to the game, and I smirk victoriously at having succeeded in my gamble, not quite paying attention as I move my right arm a bit more than should have been safe-

-one of the crystalline construct immediately sailing through, way faster than the previous one, not quite reaching the speed of sound but nearly, screaming along its flight, the sound it makes as it embeds itself in the whole noticeably sharper.

I yelp, a bit surprised, instantly releasing my grasp on the energies I weaved together and letting the spell fall apart.

Wow.

Wow.

Dazedly, I raise myself from my meditation mat, making my way to the wall.

…Yep, the second one was noticeably more deadly than the first, no two ways around it.

One hand comes to cup my chin in thoughts as I look at the two furrows left behind.

The immediate conclusion I can reach is that, apparently, the Warp isn't that different from 'the Force' when taken outside of the original setting, and channeling the proper emotions can amplify or blunt a spell accordingly.

…This opens some possibilities.

It also ties nicely with the fact that the guide was suspiciously void of non-lethal techniques, bar a shield of sorts, which makes sense considering the state of the Warp in-setting: a rolling mass of chaos, and negativity.

Trying to channel something positive out of it would be a fucking chore, me think, and probably require a very deep connection to it, like the Sigilite or the God-Emperor.

But I can do it, even as a baby psyker, because I'm dealing with a more balanced Immaterium.

It makes me wonder.

What could I do if I manage to tap into the 'positive' side of humanity's latent psychic potential?