Many thanks to Cailin for beta-ing!
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"So," I said. "Mom was an alien." A beat passed as the implications sank in. "I'm an alien. I'm an alien magical girl." It felt strange to say that outloud. I repeated it, though. "I'm an alien magical girl. … okay. That's not so bad. I can deal with this as long as I'm not an alien magical girl princess or something."
"Half-alien," Dad corrected with a smile that was way too complicated to just be 'amused.'
"Half-alien," I said. "Right." I shook my head as a sense of almost giddy wonder mixed with shock and existential fear rose up through my legs and up my spine. "Dad," I said, "We are not alone. There are aliens. Not just people who live on alternate Earths, but aliens."
Dad didn't quite laugh. Was he panicking? Was he amused? I couldn't tell. "I married an alien."
"It sounds like the plot of a bad sci-fi movie," I said.
This time, Dad did laugh, but it didn't sound healthy. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. "I always thought your mother was out of this world," he said. "I guess I was right."
"Dad," I said.
"I…" he trailed off and raked his fingers through his thinning hair. "I need to think about this."
I felt a stab of guilty resentment. It was an ugly feeling, and I knew it, but that didn't stop me from feeling it. "You need to think about this? I'm half-alien!" My voice rose without me meaning it to, and by the end I was almost shouting.
"Taylor," he said, and his eyes were wet with yet more unshed tears. "You're my daughter. I love you more than anything, and that's never going to change." His voice broke. "I just need some time to… to process this." He held up a hand. "I just… just…" he didn't finish the sentence. He just trailed off.
"Okay," I said. And it was probably the hardest word I'd ever spoken. I didn't know what I felt right then. My feelings were all bound up together like a second skin, and I couldn't sort them out from each other. Shock and disappointment, maybe, but dozens of other things all mixed in and intermingled so much that separating it all out just wasn't possible.
Dad left. I didn't look up, but I heard his footsteps on the attic floor, receding towards the door.
I don't know how long I sat there feeling miserable. I cried a little, but after a while the tears stopped coming and my nose stopped running. Then I looked up at Raising Heart. "Raising Heart," I said.
"I'm here," she answered.
"Tell me everything."
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Magical Girl Lyrical Taylor
(Worm/Nanoha)
by P.H. Wise
2.2 - Butterflies
Disclaimer: The following is a fanfic. Worm belongs to Wildbow. The Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha franchise is owned by various corporate entities. Please support the official release.
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"What's Midchilda?" I asked. "Is it an alien planet? Am I really half-alien?"
"Midchilda is the First Administrated World of the Space-Time Administration Bureau and the heart of Administrated Space. It exists in a universe adjacent-exterior-this-space-time. The people of Midchilda are not dissimilar to Homo-Sapiens."
"Not dissimilar? How is that even… I'm a human alien?"
"There are many theories about the propagation of the," there was a split-second hesitation, "human form throughout the multiverse. None have yet been able to account fully the evidence. Our biologists do believe with a reasonably high degree of certainty, however, that in a potentially infinite multiverse, humanity and its alternate-universe equivalents have arisen at least somewhat independently on many, many worlds."
I tried to wrap my brain around that. It was almost too big -- it didn't feel real. "But the chances of us being here even once are… are astronomical, aren't they?"
"The chances of any one individual winning the lottery are very small, but someone wins eventually. Given a sufficiently high number of alternate universes with identical or near-identical physical laws and constants, it's not unlikely that the same person could win the same lottery in hundreds or thousands of them. You already know that it happened twice: here and Earth Aleph. Is more so unbelievable?"
It still seemed unbelievable to me, but I guess I could see her point. "I... I guess not," I said. "So. The Space-Time Administration Bureau is like some kind of extra-dimensional super government?" I paused. "STAB? Really?"
Raising Heart bobbed up and down in a movement that looked suspiciously like a shrug. "Correct," she said. "The last time I was in contact with Midchildan databases, there were three hundred and four Administrated Worlds; there are many more Non-Administrated worlds like Earth Bet."
This was… quite a bit to take in, but I nodded. "Okay," I said. "I think I get it. What about the Dimensional Sea? What's that?"
"The Dimensional Sea is the space between parallel universes, different dimensions, and other realities. With a trans-dimensional spaceship or with sufficiently powerful magic, it can be safely navigated as a means of traveling between individual dimension-worlds space-time-frames. Some called it the Howling. Others called it Hell." I felt a chill go down my spine at her words. "Those people are overly dramatic crybabies."
And the tension was gone. I couldn't help it: I laughed.
Raising Heart's voice brightened. "I did it, Master," she said happily. "I told a joke, and you laughed. Did you see that? Second attempt at humor: successful."
And now I was laughing and wanting to facepalm at the same time. "Thanks, Raising Heart," I said.
She shone briefly with a pink light that warmed the air. "You're welcome," she said. "Do you have more questions? I will explain whatever I can."
"Can you tell me about Project Fate?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, I know little more than you do. I knew that your mother and grandparents were running from someone, but not who or why."
I sighed. "Right," I said. "Um, mom said I was going to have…" I blushed, and tried to think of a way to make this not sound like magical puberty, "Physical changes."
"Yes," Raising Heart said.
"What, uh, sort of changes?"
"Your ancestors engineered their bodies to be superior to a baseline human in many ways. These traits breed true, but your mother and grandmother used magic to undo and arrest the legacy of your bloodline in order to better hide you."
"What changes?" I asked again.
"You will have perfect vision, you will be stronger, more resistant to injury both in flesh and in bone, less easily tired. You will heal more quickly and become highly resistant to disease and infection. Your reflexes will be faster. You will grow in power magically. You will never know the infirmity of old age. Your brain and nervous system will undergo certain changes to correct the deficiencies of their biology. Your eyes will become heterochromatic. Your barrier jacket will be enhanced, and when the spellwork disguising you fully collapses, you will manifest the Kaiserfarbe -- the unique magical color of your royal bloodline."
I stared at mom's boxes, and I had no idea how to react. Most of that sounded amazing; that bit about the brain and nervous system worried me a lot. And then there was that bit at the… end… oh, hell no. "Raising Heart," I said through clenched teeth, "remember when I said I could deal with this as long as I wasn't an alien magical girl princess?"
"Yes."
"Am I an alien magical girl princess?"
"Technically, you are an alien magical girl Sankt Kaiser."
"Not. Helping."
"Wait, master, I was incorrect."
I looked up feeling an irrational sense of relief. "Oh, thank God!"
"That would be after the coronation. Right now you are an alien magical girl Sankt Prinzessin."
I glared. "... I hate you so much right now."
And once again, Raising Heart somehow managed to look smug.
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That night, my body ached, and my eyes burned, and for the first time since it had started, I knew why.
The next morning was Monday, December 27th, 2010. Dad wasn't doing any better, and I was getting worried. I didn't really say anything to him the previous night after I'd left the attic; I'd spent a lot of time reading Mom's diary and looking up everything I could about Nova, her old cape identity, and it turned out Mom was a total badass. It also turned out that the Strike Arts manual she'd left me was for teaching what was literally magical martial arts. So I hadn't really approached Dad, and now that I saw him at the breakfast table getting ready to head out to work and I saw the dark circles under his eyes and the expression I hadn't seen on his face since Mom died… I wanted to say something. I even opened my mouth to say something six different times during breakfast. But something always stopped me. I just knew that it would come out wrong, that he'd take it the wrong way, that I'd push him when I shouldn't, and all I'd do is make things worse; I'd alienate my own dad.
I said nothing. I just let him walk out the door and go to work.
I did my morning exercises in a sour mood. I was still doing the pushups, situps, and squats, still running, and everything was easier than it had been; I had to push harder, go further, run faster to feel tired. I noticed about three quarters of the way through my run that I was getting odd looks, and I forced myself to slow down.
Raising Heart let me know I had a text while I was in the shower. I didn't read it until I was done with my shower and the rest of my morning routine, though.
It was from Vicky, and it read: 'Hey! Going on patrol ths morning. Wanna come?'
I smiled, and called up a holographic keyboard to type out my reply: 'Sounds like fun. Where do you want to meet up?'
About thirty seconds later, an incoming message notification popped up on my HUD; I opened it and read, 'Meet u at the college in 20 mins?'
'I'll be there,' I texted back.
It didn't actually take me 20 minutes to get to the college. Brockton Bay University took up an area that would have fit eight city blocks, and it was gorgeous. It didn't actually date back that far, but it had these amazing Victorian buildings, and every single part of the landscaping was just immaculate. From what I'd heard, BBU desperately wished it was an Ivy League school, and it put a lot of effort into its image, but for all that, it was really just okay. It wasn't bad. It was fine. Adequate. You could go there and get a good education, but it was neither prestigious nor notorious; it was ordinary.
I met Glory Girl in the sky above the quad. The day was cold and windy, and only a few students who hadn't gone home for winter break were there to see us. "Hey Starfall!" she called as she flew up, and I immediately felt better. I'd gone and looked up her powers after the last time we met; she was an Alexandria package, which meant super-strength, invulnerability, and flight, but she also had an aura that could affect people's emotions. … which explained why I suddenly felt better when she showed up. Well, that and the fact that she was pretty cool. Unless that feeling was also caused by the aura.
… No, stop second guessing yourself, Taylor. You have no reason to believe that the only reason you like her is because of her aura. That's just paranoid.
[Raising Heart,] I asked silently, [what would we need to do to adjust my Barrier Jacket to block effects like Vicky's aura?]
What? Just because it's paranoid doesn't mean that it isn't a hole in my defenses. I had no idea what kind of villains I might face that could manipulate my emotions, and I wanted that hole closed before I found out! Ditto Clockblocker's time freeze power. Next time I faced someone that could stop time, I wanted at least some level of resistance to the effect.
I smiled. "Hey, Glory Girl," I said. "Where did you have in mind for the patrol?"
[I am analyzing the data from our previous encounters,] Raising Heart said telepathically. [I will add your current encounter to the existing database and formulate the necessary equations once I have a model of how it is affecting your neurochemistry.]
[Thanks, Raising Heart.] In the meantime, I just needed to be aware of what I was feeling, and maybe a little suspicious of it. I was pretty sure she couldn't help it, so I wasn't going to hold it against her. I was just going to make sure it wasn't a problem. … and if being around her meant I felt all right in the meantime, whether it was because I actually wanted to be her friend or just because of her aura, that was just a bonus, right?
"I figured I'd give you the choice of ABB territory or E88," she said easily. "Got a preference?"
I thought about it. "Actually, I think I have a better idea."
"What, the Merchants?"
In answer, I held up a hand and cast a spell; this time, I didn't need to call up a spell circle. I'd been practicing it enough, and it was low enough power that I could just send it out with an appropriate effort of will to flood my mental mathematical construct with mana.
"Wide Area Search," Raising Heart said.
Six pink spheres of light appeared around me and immediately shot out across the city, three heading for E88 territory, three for ABB. "Sensor spheres," I said. "They find trouble, we go deal with it."
Glory Girl watched the sensor spheres fly away. "Wow," she said. "That's… amazingly convenient."
"Yup!" I said cheerfully. "Come on, let's get to a good interception spot where we can respond in either direction!"
We flew off towards a rough halfway point between E88 and ABB territory as I guided the sensor spheres through their searches.
There. "I have something," I said. "Looks like a couple of skinheads are making trouble at … Rayford's Liquor. Feel like busting up an armed robbery?"
"Lead the way!" Glory Girl chirped.
I was pretty sure it wasn't normal to be that cheerful and chirpy at the prospect of fighting men with guns, but I was pretty sure I didn't care; I felt the adrenaline rush just the same as she did. I shot off like a rocket, and Glory Girl zoomed after me. A second later, I slowed down to let her keep pace.
"Two skinheads inside," I said. I brought up a holoscreen that displayed the interior of the shop, showing one skinhead at the counter brandishing a knife, another further back with a gun. The cashier was putting the contents of the cash register into a bag for the knife-wielding one. It wasn't unusual; standard policy was to let an armed robber take the cash, that it wasn't worth your life. A couple of customers were cowering in the back of the store, and the gunman was splitting his attention between them and the cashier. It seemed sloppy to me, though I couldn't explain exactly how. "Third keeping watch outside," I said. A skinhead in a fuzzy red and white Santa Hat appeared on the display, waiting outside the store. "How do you want to handle this?"
Glory Girl gave it a moment's consideration. "We need to get the customers out of the line of fire first," she decided. "Can you do anything for them?"
[Can I do anything for them?] I asked Raising Heart.
[Yes, my Master. Protection can be spread over a wide area. The mana cost will be higher.]
I nodded. "I think so," I said. "What about the cashier?"
"I'll make sure he's okay," Glory Girl said. She reached behind her back and produced a handful of zip ties; she offered me a few; I took them.
I nodded. "Priority target is the gunman. Knife-wielder is the secondary. Ready?"
"Ready," Glory Girl said. Her grin was infectious. I was already feeling the adrenaline, but now I was felt a sense of exhilarating joy.
We landed briefly on the roof of the liquor store, out of sight of the lookout. I threw out a pair of Divine Shooters bullets set to stun to wait in reserve in case anything went wrong. Then Vicky and I looked at each other, nodded, and sprang into action.
I crashed through the back window of the store, spraying glass everywhere as I went. It didn't touch me, and it didn't touch the customers, either; "Wide Area Protection," Raising Heart announced out loud, and I felt a noticeable drain on my available mana; a pink barrier sprang up, sealing the entire back half of the store off from the skinheads in the front.
Glory Girl zipped down over the head of the lookout and through the open door of the liquor store; the gunman was turning toward me and about to open fire at about the same time that Vicky delivered a flying kick to the hand of the knife-wielding skinhead. There was a crack as the man's hand broke, and he dropped his knife with a cry of pain. Glory Girl kept going, flipped herself around and skidded to a stop, knocking over a display in the process and sending bottles of whiskey falling to the floor.
"CAPES!" the lookout yelled at the top of his lungs.
The gunman opened fire, emptying his clip into my shield; the bullets flattened against the barrier and dropped to the floor.
"FUCK!" the gunman yelled.
"FUCK THAT HURTS!" the formerly knife-wielding skinhead yelled.
"CAPES!" the lookout yelled again.
"YEAH, HANS, WE FUCKING GOT IT!" the angry formerly knife-wielding skinhead with the broken hand yelled.
"All right, boys," Glory Girl said, hands on her hips, projecting an aura of pure intimidation at the skinheads, "You know the drill. Surrender and I won't break any more bones."
The two skinheads inside the liquor store bolted for the door, and the lookout -- Hans -- took off at a dead sprint. "You take Hans," I said, "I'll deal with these two."
Glory Girl glanced my way, shrugged, and took off after the lookout. I didn't leave the store; I just had my two Divine Shooter bullets split off after the two thugs. They were going in opposite directions, but that didn't help; a stun-sphere hit them in the back simultaneously, and they both fell and tumbled to a stop on the sidewalk.
"... Ow," said the skinhead with the broken hand.
I walked out and zip-tied them both one after the other, had Raising Heart call the police, and then settled in to wait for Glory Girl to bring back Hans.
It didn't take long. She came flying back to the store with Hans in zip ties, eyed the two thugs I'd taken out, and then said in a cheerful voice, "You know your powers are bullshit, right?"
I blushed. "I'm getting that," I said.
We both turned towards the store. "Well," Glory Girl said, "Looks like a job well done to me."
The cashier cursed loudly, and then bellowed out at us, "Did you have to wreck the whole damn store?"
I blinked and turned to look.
… Oh. Oops. I'd done some major damage to the displays with my shield that had broken a bunch of wine bottles and sent others flying. I'd also sprayed glass across half the store when I came through the window, and Glory Girl had knocked over the display with the whiskey, and more than a few of the bottles had broken when they'd hit the floor.
"Fucking capes," the cashier muttered. "The PRT had better cover this or I'm out of a job."
"Sorry," I said sheepishly. I'd have felt better if I wasn't pretty sure I could have shaped that shield to not knock anything over if I'd been more careful about it. I got a little caught up in the excitement, and a bunch of displays got a little more smashed than they might have otherwise.
He made a dismissive gesture.
I sighed, and then I glanced at Hans, then at his Santa Hat. "Really?" I asked.
Hans got a defensive look. "My head was cold, and it's festive!"
"God damn it, Hans," the gunman muttered.
