At the end of a desolate, abandoned street, a girl in an orange school uniform suddenly appeared.
She looked exactly like Misaka Mikoto—but perched atop her head was a pair of military night-vision goggles, and her face carried an eerie, emotionless calm.
"Not the real Misaka Mikoto?" was the first thought that crossed the mind of Ryougi Shiki.
Shen He had briefed them in advance: the ones who wore military-grade goggles, with dull pupils and nearly no emotional variance—those were the Misaka Sisters, the mass-produced clones from the Level 6 Shift Project. Emotionless. Robotic. Mechanical. The infamous "three-no" personalities.
"I can't read her mind," Saiki Kusuo informed the others telepathically.
Whether it was the original Misaka Mikoto, the Sisters, or even Accelerator, their minds were always clouded to his abilities—blocked off as if shielded by some force beyond his Esper classification.
So the group decided to stay on the rooftop and observe.
The girl paused on the street below, scanning her surroundings. Then her gaze fixed on something.
Two croaking plushies sat abandoned near a rusted-out vending machine.
In that instant, her blank expression vanished. Her hands clenched. Her dim eyes sparked with a golden gleam—the unmistakable light of childlike obsession.
It was the look of someone who just found their favorite collectible.
Without hesitation, she broke into a run toward the plushies.
That was enough to confirm it.
This was Misaka Mikoto.
She'd disguised herself as one of the Sisters—probably to avoid detection in this region, dominated by lower-tier Espers and rogue abilities. As long as she didn't cross paths with an actual Sister, the disguise would hold.
"Should we go down?" Violet asked softly, tilting her head.
She remembered Shen He's instruction clearly: if they encountered Misaka Mikoto Alter, they needed to explain everything—who they were, what they were doing, and what was at stake.
If they were honest, and approached her without hostility, there was a high probability of earning her trust, even if only temporarily.
Shiki nodded in agreement and started to move—only for Saiki to stop her with a telekinetic pulse.
"Wait. Someone else is coming."
At the far corner of the street, another figure appeared.
Identical face.
But this one wore no school uniform.
She was clad in a striking black gothic lolita dress. The tight-fitting blouse hugged her lithe frame, while the flared lace skirt shimmered with a stitched quatto pattern. Long, white stockings and padded black boots gave her an air of unsettling elegance.
A single lock of white hair fell across her face, and black electric sparks flickered in and out around her bangs.
As soon as the first Misaka saw her, she froze in place.
There was no cover. Nowhere to hide.
The gothic girl's sharp eyes locked onto her with needlepoint intensity, and she strode forward.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was flat, yet cut like cold steel.
"...Patrolling," replied the disguised Misaka, instinctively.
A beat later, she added, "Misaka 10086, responding nervously."
Misaka Mikoto Alter stared at her for a long moment. Her eyes narrowed—not in anger, but calculation.
Without a word, she turned and gently picked up the two croak plushies from the bench.
Her icy expression thawed just slightly, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
She really liked them.
Misaka Mikoto—disguised as 10086—felt something squeeze in her chest.
She'd never seen those particular plushies before. They were rarities. One white, one black. Flat cheeks. Ultra-soft fluff. And the most dangerous part—their bellies had that signature squishiness, perfect for hugging.
Her collector's soul nearly exploded.
I want them. I want them so badly.
"What are you looking at?"
Misaka Mikoto Alter's cold voice snapped her out of her trance.
"Nothing," she replied quickly. "Misaka 10086 is simply... admiring. If only I could get a doll…"
That would've been what a real Sister said, right?
Even if she couldn't hope to actually get one of the ultra-rare plushies, she had to play the part.
And yet—
Misaka Mikoto Alter shoved the black croak plushie into her hands.
"This is for you."
Misaka Mikoto's eyes widened.
The Alter placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're the only Sister Misaka who shares my interests. 10086, right? I'll remember you. After the war's over, I'll make sure each of you has something you like."
The disguised Mikoto stared, speechless.
This girl looked just like her—but more aggressive, more unyielding. Her eyes were harsh, almost brutal, but the act she just performed was incredibly kind.
She really cares about the Sisters.
Misaka Mikoto looked down. She didn't want her grief to show on her face.
But participating in war… killing for the sake of rebuilding paradise… that's not right!
Even if she understood their suffering, even if she sympathized with their goal—this wasn't the way.
It shouldn't be like this!
She wanted to scream it.
But she couldn't.
She'd already been defeated by Accelerator. She didn't have the strength to oppose this girl—this version of herself who had actually done something for the Sisters.
Even worse, Kuroko, Uiharu, and Saten still believed in her.
They thought she was the reliable one.
Misaka Mikoto Alter didn't notice the inner turmoil on the girl's face. She simply secured the white plush to the ribbon at her waist.
"You should leave now. UU reading www.uukanshu.com."
It wasn't a suggestion.
It was an order.
Then—
Blinding black lightning erupted across the skyline. The roar of electromagnetic force exploded like a sonic boom. Atop a nearby skyscraper, a circular section several meters wide was annihilated. Concrete turned to molten slag, dripping down like fiery rain.
"You really thought I wouldn't notice people hiding?"
Misaka Mikoto Alter turned, her body now crackling with obsidian-black electricity. It wasn't a gentle hum—it was jagged, violent, dangerous.
She flicked her wrist.
A compressed railgun blast launched like a meteor into the skyline, tearing a long black gash across the rooftop.
Then came a second shot. Then a third. Then a fourth.
Each faster than the last. Each more powerful. Until finally—
The entire building collapsed in a storm of dust and rubble.
From within the crumbling ash, several shadowy figures leapt forward.
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