Apotheosis:
A New Story Of
Bubblegum Crisis
The feeding itself was never the rush of ecstasy that overly- romanticised stories made it out to be. In fact, Aethan had long since come to the realization that it was only the adrenaline-soaked blood of a struggling victim that prompted such feelings in him.
And since he did not wish to become more of a horror than he already was, he deliberately tried to avoid causing fear or anger in his, for lack of a better term, "prey".
But he'd forgotten the taste. It was vastly sweeter than any mortal beverage could ever be. The spell that he had cast, on the mountain, had dealt with the gnawing hunger, but nothing could ever take the place of the sweet taste of blood. It was like the first meal of a man who had been fed intravenously for a month ...
After he was done, he let the cooling body drop to the ground. It had been so long since he had killed. The young man had given so much resistance, however, that he'd had very little choice in the manner -- either drink a little, and let the boy attack him (a weakened attack, to be sure, but one that did hold a small chance of doing him some injury), or drink until the boy was at the point of death from blood loss, and leave him to die. And then there was the third choice -- to lose oneself in the taste ...
Perhaps it could be considered a sort of mercy killing in the end.
No. I am not so fragile that I need to create rationalizations for what I do. I killed him, because ... because I did not care if he lived or died, and taking steps to see that he would live would have been too much trouble, and that is all there is to it, and I am becoming a monster.
He dumped the body in a trash bin, forced himself to forget about it, and considered the girl named Nene Romanova.
A difficult task, to be sure. She know that there is magic, now. She knows what it can do. But she does not, I think, believe that the magic is in her. I will need some artifice, I think.
It took him the better part of the evening to find the right herbs.
* * *
Nene had trouble getting to sleep, and in the morning quietly thanked any and all deities, from Amaterasu to Kibo, that Sylia hadn't scheduled a training session this weekend. She was a wreck.
She ate her granola breakfast quietly, still reeling from the events of the previous day. The most obvious question was, of course "Why me?" Of all the people she knew, Nene thought that she was the least likely to have any sort of magical powers.
Take Priss for example. Ever since they had met, Nene had been constantly amazed by her ability to seize a crowd's attention with her stage presence, and to captivate them with her songs.
Or Sylia. The woman was a genius -- although that was kind of to be expected, what with her father -- but even that couldn't account for the technological masterpieces that were the hardsuits and the motoslaves.
Or even Linna! Even beyond her "knack" for making good financial deals, there was her almost superhuman agility, and her mastery of the techniques of tai chi chu'an.
Compared to them, Nene was nothing special. Just a bit of computer talent and raw luck, really.
She watched the news at eleven. Sure enough, "sources close to Genom's Environmental Division" claimed to have been engaged in weather control experimentation, but the official statement from the megacorp denied it.
Nene wondered what it meant, that Genom was involved in an effort to keep the existence of magic a secret. Could it be that they're actually run by demons, or something? Priss'd like that ... Then she thought of Largo, and winced. If anyone qualifies as a demon ...
There was a knocking at the door. Nene started, then realized who it was. The realization did little to ease her anxieties, but she went to answer the door anyway.
"Good afternoon, Nene-san. May I come in?" Aethan asked, calmly.
For a fraction of a second, Nene considered refusing to let him come in. She could go back to the safety of the scientific world view ... but then she realized that she couldn't, either.
"Come in, by all means ..." she said, quietly.
He walked in, giving the room the same once over he had the day before. His eyes lingered on the computer for some reason, then he turned back to look at Nene.
"Are you ready to learn?" he asked, quietly.
Nene wanted to say, no, what kind of stupid question is that, who is ever ready to learn ... but she didn't. She nodded instead.
"Very well. Ask any question."
"Why me?" It was said before she had the chance to give it more than half a thought.
He considered it. "I haven't the faintest idea."
"But ..."
"Understand me well, Nene ... I was told to awaken you to magic. It was not my idea, by any means. Perhaps the woman whom you met on the bus, yesterday, will give you an answer to that question, when your training is done. I doubt it. But anything can happen."
"Okay ... who are these people?"
"They refer to themselves as the Crystal Tokyo Society; their stated intention is to either prevent some great, forthcoming disaster, or to ensure that the inevitable disaster is less ... overwhelming than it might otherwise be. I do not know the full story."
"A distaster? What kind of disaster?"
"As I said, I do not know. When I speak of it, I offer you only hearsay, the rumors spoken among those who have served their aims. It is whispered that there will be a great age of ice and cold, beginning sometime in this century ... and that the Crystal Tokyo society is all that stands between the world and this fate."
This was all too much for Nene to handle. She decided to go back to basics. "What is magic, anyway?"
He smiled. "To that question, Nene, there is no single answer."
Oh great.
"Everyone who uses the arts of magic must find the definition of magic within themselves. You see, then, I think, the difficulty in instruction, at this stage?"
She blinked. "I can't be taught what magic is ... because I've never done it?"
"Correct." He began to rifle through the pockets of his trenchcoat. "So, I'm going to have to do some mildly unusual things to activate your talent."
"Like what?" Nene asked, more than a little frightened.
He produced a small packet. "I don't suppose you have a potpurri burner about?"
"Uh ..." Nene headed for her closet, and opened it up. Dropping to her knees, she started to search through the morass of stuff that she'd thrown in the closet, never expecting to use again. "A-HA! Here it is!" She stood up, producing the small crucible. The candle underneath it was burnt down nearly to a stub.
Aethan took a long look at it, and sighed. "Needs must," he muttered. "You certainly seem to have gotten a lot of use out of this," he continued, in his normal speaking voice.
"Well ... actually, I only used it once, for this one date, to give the place a more romantic atmosphere ..."
Aethan's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?" he asked. The word spoke volumes.
Nene blushed, heavily. "Uh ... he turned out to be allergic to the potpurri I was using, and I had to call an ambulance before we ..."
Aethan held up his hand. "Much more information than I needed, thank you, Nene." He took the burner from her, placed it on the floor, and began to pour a small, measured amount of the blackish substance in the packet.
Suddenly, Nene realized something. "Hey! If you knew you were going to need this stuff, why didn't you bring a burner yourself?"
He looked up at her with a perplexed expression. "Because I needed something with an esoteric connection to you, of course."
"Oh ... wait a minute! What is that stuff?"
"A blend of several mildly exotic herbs and ..."
"No way! I don't do that kind of shit!"
"Nene ... it's necessary."
"I don't care! I've seen what some drugs can do to people, and I'm not gonna get screwed up like that!"
"Nene." Aethan's voice was like iron. "I assure you that this substance possesses no addictive qualities, and no harmful side effects. It is as safe a `drug' as the caffeine in your coffee. Moreover, I will be being exposed to it at the same time you are -- and do you actually think that I would deliberately expose myself to something that could harm me?"
"You might be immune ... or you might be so addicted that it doesn't harm you in small doses ... I mean you've lived for centuries ..."
"Nene. It will not harm you. This I swear. May the sky fall upon me, may the earth swallow me, may the ocean drown me, may fire consume me, I am foresworn. IT WILL NOT HARM YOU."
She believed him.
Huh? What ... what just happened? So he said some sort of fancy oath, why should that make me believe him ... but it does.
"What was that?" Nene asked suddenly.
"An Oath. A rather powerful one. You see, magic is, for me, about talking to reality, and convincing it to do what I tell it. One of the side effects of this is that when I swear an oath -- under certain circumstances -- I have to keep it. But on the other hand, everyone who hears it sworn knows that I will keep it. It becomes written into the ... uh ... source code of reality, as it were."
"I ... do believe you. Well ... what is that stuff supposed to do?"
He gave the question a great deal of thought. "This will not be an easy explanation," he finally said in a guarded tone. "I have been living with this knowledge for nearly a thousand years, and you have only now begun your journey ..."
He rose up from the crouched position he had been in, and walked over to the window. Nene followed him with her eyes.
"Consider this window," he began, slowly. "It would be better if it were more opaque ..."
"Increase window opacity to 95%," Nene said aloud.
Aethan turned to look at her strangely. She smiled, and gestured for him to look at the window again. He did, and was startled to look at a matte black wall.
"Computer controlled windows," Nene said, very pleased to have given the old wizard pause. "The voice recognition system drops little beads of colour into the ..."
"I ... see," he said, nodding. "Even more useful for my explanation. Now, consider this opaque window. You cannot see through it ... but you know that beyond it, there is a larger reality, correct?"
Nene nodded. "But ..."
He held up a hand. "So is it necessary to understand that there is more to reality than can be perceived with only your mundane senses. There is another way of looking at reality that is essential to the performance of magic, for the energies that are used in its practice can only be perceived in this way. Do you understand?"
"I ... I think I do. And ... the herbs are necessary to allow me to use this other way of perceiving reality?"
"Yes!" He seemed rather excited, but only the tone of his voice showed it. "This is what I spoke of when I said that I must needs use unusual methods to activate your gift. In ancient days, those in whom the power rested could not help but begin using it, without any training at all -- and this was the way in which they were found by magi seeking apprentices. But you, Nene -- you and those of your generation, and indeed many before your own, have not had to deal with such things as would require the unconscious use of magic. And so it lies buried within you. Asleep."
She looked at the potpourri burner. "Okay. If I do this, there's no backing out, is there? I won't be able to go back to looking at the world in a normal way."
"Of course you will. As surely as you can command the opacity of this window, so can you choose whether to look upon the physical or upon the astral."
"The astral? Is that what you're talking about?"
He blinked at the anger in her tone. "Well, that is the term in general ..."
"Why the hell didn't you just say that you'd give me a way to do astral projection, rather than just doing all this metaphorical crap?"
"You ... know about the astral?" he asked hesitantly.
"Well, duh! Of course! Anybody who's ever played role-playing games that had any kind of magic has heard of astral projection! Geez! Give me a LITTLE credit, willya?"
He closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh. "Of course. I beg your pardon. Shall we continue?"
She nodded. Then, Nene realized that his eyes were still closed, flushed, and said aloud, "Okay. Let's go."
He walked over to the bowl, dropped to sit crosslegged, and gestured for her to do the same. She did, and he lit the candle under the crucible with a flame from his finger.
"Close your eyes," he said, doing so himself, once more.
She shut her eyes most of the way.
"All the way, Nene."
I guess I only get one "stump the teach" a day, she thought, as she firmly closed her eyes.
"Breath in the essence of the burning incense. It will make you feel light headed, but you are perfectly safe. You will only feel light. As though you are trying to get out of your skull, a prison that has been binding you all the years of your life. And slowly, slowly, you will pierce the barriers within yourself. Nothing can stop you from this, if you have the will to continue ... for you are a being of purest light."
In fact, the darkness behind Nene's eyes was becoming brighter. No longer a reddish darkness, but rather ... like staring up into a light through the eyelids ... a light that was increasing in intensity.
Nene.
She did not hear the voice. She felt it.
Stand up, Nene.
She came easily to her feet ... without feeling at all dizzy from the suddenness of it.
When you open your eyes, you will be in the astral, truly. Your person will be an idealized version of your self-image. But it will also, at the same time, be who and what you truly are. Open your eyes.
Nene did, and looked down at herself. She was wearing a dress that combined aspects of the uniform she'd worn at high school, her AD Police dress uniform, and her hardsuit ... and it also bore more than a faint resemblance to the costume worn by the main characters of a magical girl show that she'd loved as a child. These are who I am, she thought, I am all of these things, for they are what I have patterned my life upon.
Indeed? Hm. Odd set of mechanical gear, that ...
She turned in the direction that the "voice" came from, and her jaw dropped.
Is something the matter? inquired Aethan's voice, coming from the seven foot tall black robed figure with blood dripping from his enlongated teeth, long talons at the end of his arms, and deep crimson eyes.
Is ... is that what you really are? she shrieked.
The figure looked down on himself. Yes, he said, in a rather calm tone. Everything seems to be in order. Shall we go? We've much to do.
Uh ... can I ask a few questions about this astral business, first? Nene inquired, desperately trying to remain as calm as he was.
Certainly, he replied. Ask away.
Okay ... can you change your appearance here?
Yes ... or rather I can. It is an ability that I have developed, which is not available to comparative novices such as yourself. The only way to change one's true astral seeming, however, is to change one's personality ...
Uh ... could you do that, now? Some things about your true seeming are a ... bit uncomfortable.
Very well, he said, sounding a bit annoyed. He seemed to draw in on himself for a moment, then expanded once more.
Unchanged.
Is this more to your liking? he asked.
Great, perfect, let's go, Nene replied quickly, and took a look around.
The place that they were in was unmistakab ly her apartment, but it was as though she'd had an impressionist painter as an interior decorator. Everything had a pinkish tinge ... but there were other colours -- blue, and silver, and dark red -- surrounding certain objects. The actual structures and things were hard to make out.
Very well, let us go to the roof of your building, that you might see Megatokyo as it truly is. And with that, he began to rise through the roof.
Nene stared up at where he had vanished. Uh ... how do I do that?
Here, you are what you think you are.
Nene puzzled over the seeming non-sequitur for a moment ... and then she envisioned herself rising.
She shot up like an arrow, through the ceiling, through the apartments above her own, past Aethan, and then through the roof, and she kept on heading upwards ...
Until she felt a tugging on her ankle.
Control over one's thoughts, Aethan commented in his lecturing tone, is vital to the proper practice of magic. Do you see why?
Nene was still reeling from the sudden stop. Wow ... what acceleration! Wait a minute, if I was going that fast, and I stopped that suddenly --
Good thing physics doesn't apply here, ne? Aethan commented. I was only able to stop you because my will is stronger than yours, and my skill greater. Had you continued, you would have shot beyond the equivalent of the atmosphere, and been in the analogue of the void of space in moments. That would be bad.
Bad?
Very bad. Fatal, at your level of experience.
Nene swallowed. Or at least, she thought she did. Domo arigatou, sensei.
Let's get back down to the roof, shall we?
When Nene felt her "feet" touch the roof, she let out a deep breath, and took a look out at the astral equivalent of MegaTokyo.
Compared to many of the "megacities" of the world, MegaTokyo enjoyed a surprisingly low level of air pollution. In the most industrialized areas, of course, the atmosphere was all but toxic, but in the main, the fission reactors left the air surprisingly clean.
But the astral analogue looked like a vision of hell. The "air" was a sickly gray in colour, while there were isolated "firepits" burning with a warped yellow light.
Why is it like this? Nene whispered.
The astral reflects the emotional and psychological nature of humanity. You tell me what this says about your city, Nene.
In the distance, Nene could see a huge black pyramid that seemed to stretch to the sky. Genom, she muttered.
Indeed, Aethan said, moving his head in a sort of nod. So much of the anger, contempt, and self-hatred in this city focuses on the Tower, that it can't help but manifest in this place.
Looking closer -- no, not looking closer, but somehow enhancing her own vision so that things that were far away moved into greater focus, Nene caught a glimpse of weblike structures connecting the Tower to other buildings in the vicinity, and even fainter ones to buildings further away ... like one that resembled the AD Police headquarters.
What are they? she asked, half-guessing the answer.
I'm not sure. They could be astral representations of a spell that allows for teleportation between points connected by the line ... or possibly surveillance ... but I'd have to get closer to find out. And I'm not willing to do so. If I'm right about Genom, their "arsenal" includes a fairly large number of magical adepts to defend their "holdings" from just that sort of attention.
She nodded, her head reeling. Nene had always suspected that Genom had its claws into AD Police ... but she'd hoped ...
She turned away, looking towards the north ... and felt her jaw drop.
AETHAN! she screamed. WHAT IS THAT!
He turned around and stared blankly at what she was looking at.
The twisted yellow flames to the north soared even higher than the Tower. Nene couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed them before now. It was as though an entire district of the city were burning. And there were faces in the flame.
Horrible faces.
By Othinn's many names ... she heard Aethan murmur, and she was almost certain that there was fear in his tone. A Hellgate. And it's going to open, soon.
To Be Continued.
The characters and world of Bubblegum Crisis were created by Kenichi Sonoda, Toshimichi Suzuki, and others, and brought to North America by AnimEigo. The woman on the bus was created by Naoko Takeuchi and brought to North America by DIC. Aethan DeGales was created by Chris Davies. The preceding story, while incorporating aspects of motion pictures held under copyright by others, is copyright 1996 by Chris Davies.
Nobody Sue Me Okay?
Apotheosis Part Three, 01/20/97