After they settled things up, Dr. Aquinas guided Raika to a sleek, metallic platform in the center of the room. "We can start the scan process now, shall we?" he said with a reassuring smile. Raika nodded and stepped onto the platform, her movements careful and deliberate.
As soon as she was in place, five sphere-shaped robots with multiple lenses and scanning devices floated into position around her, their gentle hum filling the room. Each sphere emitted a soft, blue light that began to sweep across her body, creating a crisscross pattern of illumination. The lights scanned every inch of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, moving with precision and care.
Dr. Aquinas turned to a large, curved screen that displayed a detailed 3D model of Raika's body. Various data points and readouts streamed alongside the model, providing a wealth of information about her biological and mechanical components. He watched intently as the scan progressed, his fingers tapping on a console to adjust the parameters and enhance the readings.
The room was filled with a mix of advanced technology and a sense of sterile efficiency. The walls were lined with shelves of tools and equipment, all meticulously organized. A soft, ambient light bathed the room, creating a calm and focused atmosphere. The air was cool and carried a faint scent of antiseptic, underscoring the clinical nature of the environment.
As the scan concluded, the sphere robots retreated to their docking stations, and the blue lights dimmed. Dr. Aquinas leaned closer to the screen, analyzing the final results with a critical eye. "Your body is mostly human, Raika," he began, "but it is also interwoven with technology in a way that's truly remarkable."
Raika's eyes widened slightly. "It is?" she asked, a mix of curiosity and concern in her voice.
Dr. Aquinas nodded, still focused on the screen. "Yes. When I last scanned your hair DNA, I found that your biological cells have the ability to transform into mechanical components while still maintaining their organic properties." He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the display. "It's a fascinating blend of biology and technology, unlike anything I've ever seen. Your cells can shift between being flesh and mechanical, yet they function seamlessly together."
Raika looked at her hands, flexing her fingers as if trying to sense the changes within her. The thought of her body being such a unique hybrid was both awe-inspiring and unsettling. "So, I'm part human, part machine," she murmured, more to herself than to Aquinas.
Dr. Aquinas turned to her, his expression a mix of fascination and empathy. "Indeed. Your father's work was groundbreaking, but it also came with many risks and sacrifices. The fact that you're here, alive and functioning, is a testament to his dedication and ingenuity."
Raika absorbed his words, the weight of her father's legacy pressing down on her once more. She felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that her existence was a blend of human resilience and technological marvel. It was a daunting realization, but also an empowering one.
Dr. Aquinas smiled gently. "This scan confirms that you're not just a creation of science, Raika. You're a bridge between two worlds, capable of extraordinary things. Understanding this is just the beginning of unlocking your full potential."
Raika nodded, determination hardening her features. She knew that her journey was far from over, and that she had much to learn about herself and her abilities. But with Dr. Aquinas' help, she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Raika, still absorbing the information, suddenly paused. "Wait a minute, Doctor," she said, her brow furrowing in thought. "I've been wondering how my weaponry works and how my dimensional pocket operates, especially when I store Phailax."
Dr. Aquinas nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and intrigue. "The only thing I know for certain is where your weaponry is stored in your body," he began, "but your pocket dimension... that's another mystery. When the floating bots scanned it, they failed because something interfered with their sensors. It was like a blinding light with limitless capabilities."
Raika's eyes widened. "So, my pocket dimension is something beyond even your understanding?"
Dr. Aquinas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I feel it has a deep mystery to it. I suspect your father didn't give you that ability. It seems almost... divine, like it was granted by a god."
Raika was silent for a moment, trying to process this revelation. "And what about my weapons?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
Dr. Aquinas smiled. "Ah, your weapons. They're stored in your brain."
Raika blinked, taken aback. "In my brain? How is that even possible?"
Dr. Aquinas chuckled softly at her reaction. "Yes, it does sound magical, doesn't it? Your brain acts as a repository for your weaponry. It's a combination of advanced technology and biological storage, something only your father's brilliance could achieve."
Raika's mind raced, the implications of his words sinking in. "So, every time I summon a weapon, it's like accessing a part of my own mind?"
Dr. Aquinas nodded. "Exactly. Your neural pathways are connected to your weapon systems, allowing you to summon and control them with thought alone."
Raika's thoughts swirled, her understanding of herself deepening. She looked at Dr. Aquinas, who was observing her with a knowing smile.
"And the pocket dimension?" Raika asked, still grappling with the concept.
Dr. Aquinas leaned back, his expression serious. "That's something we may never fully understand. It's beyond our current technological grasp. The interference we detected suggests it's more than just a simple storage space. It's as if it exists on a different plane altogether, possibly linked to an otherworldly source."
Raika's pulse quickened, the mystery of her abilities both thrilling and daunting. She felt a strange mix of awe and unease, realizing just how unique and powerful she truly was.
Dr. Aquinas chuckled again, sensing her inner turmoil. "Don't worry too much about it, Raika. Embrace the mystery. Sometimes, not knowing everything is what makes the journey exciting."
Raika nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. "You're right, Doctor. I'll embrace it."
The room seemed to hum with the weight of their conversation, the blend of science and the supernatural weaving a complex tapestry of Raika's existence. As she stood there, she felt a renewed sense of purpose and a deeper connection to the legacy her father had left her.
Raika, her voice trembling, asked, "Doctor, how... how is Assistant? Is he alive?"
Dr. Aquinas looked puzzled. "Assistant? I didn't know you had an assistant."
Raika nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, he was my constant companion. He guided me, helped me... He was always there for me." She connected her mind to the monitor, trying to show the final footage of the Assistant. As the connection was established, only static sound and a black and white screen filled with noise appeared.
"No, it can't be," Raika whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. The static on the monitor seemed to mock her, an unbearable reminder of her loss.
Dr. Aquinas moved closer, his heart aching at the sight of Raika's despair. Gently, he placed a comforting hand on her back. "There, there, Raika. Don't cry. I believe you," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against her sorrow.
Raika's body shook with sobs, her tears falling freely as she leaned into Dr. Aquinas's comforting presence. The weight of her emotions, the grief for her lost companion, was almost too much to bear. "He sacrificed himself for me," she choked out between sobs. "He gave everything so I could live."
Dr. Aquinas continued to rub her back gently, offering what comfort he could. "He must have cared for you deeply," he murmured. "Such a sacrifice speaks volumes about his loyalty and love for you."
Raika nodded, her tears still flowing. "He was more than just an assistant. He was my friend... my protector." Her voice broke, the pain of her loss overwhelming.
Dr. Aquinas hugged her gently, allowing her to release her grief. "I'm so sorry, Raika. But know this: his sacrifice wasn't in vain. You're alive, and you can honor his memory by living fully."
As Raika's sobs subsided, she felt a small measure of comfort in Dr. Aquinas's words. She wiped her eyes, trying to steady herself. "Thank you, Doctor," she whispered. "I'll try to be strong. For Assistant."
Dr. Aquinas nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "That's the spirit. And remember, you're not alone. We'll figure things out together."
Raika looked at the static-filled monitor one last time, a silent promise to Assistant forming in her heart. She would carry on, not just for herself, but for the companion who had given everything for her.
Meanwhile, Mia and Lina walked slowly through the hallway of the school, their steps heavy with sorrow. "I miss Raika," Mia said softly, her voice tinged with a deep sadness.
"Me too," Lina whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The hallway, usually buzzing with energy, felt unbearably empty without Raika's presence.
Fay approached them, her own heart aching, but she forced a smile to comfort her friends. "Don't be sad," she said gently. "She's just... asleep." Her voice wavered, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes.
Mia and Lina stopped walking, the weight of Fay's words sinking in. Tears spilled over, tracing silent paths down their cheeks. "It's not the same," Mia choked out, her voice breaking. "I miss her so much."
Lina nodded, unable to speak, her tears falling freely. The three friends stood together, their grief a palpable force that bound them even closer. Fay put her arms around Mia and Lina, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
As they continued to walk, their tears fell onto the polished floors of the hallway, each step a painful reminder of the friend they had lost. The world seemed dimmer, the future uncertain without Raika by their side. But in their shared sorrow, they found a glimmer of strength, a silent promise to keep her memory alive in their hearts.
As Mia, Lina, and Fay walked slowly down the hallway, they saw Nana approaching from the opposite direction. Nana's usually vibrant face was shrouded in a deep sadness, her eyes downcast and hollow. She moved silently, each step heavy with grief.
"Nana..." Mia called out softly, but Nana didn't respond. She walked past them without a word, her expression dark and distant, as if she was trapped in her own world of sorrow.
Lina reached out, her voice trembling. "Nana, are you okay?"
Nana paused for a moment, but still didn't lift her head. Her silence was deafening, a stark contrast to her usual lively demeanor. She continued walking, her movements mechanical, as if she was barely holding herself together.
Fay, her own heart aching, watched Nana's retreating figure with tears in her eyes. "She's hurting just as much as we are," she whispered, her voice filled with empathy.
Mia and Lina nodded, their tears flowing more freely now. They understood that Nana's silence spoke volumes about her pain. The hallway felt even more oppressive, the weight of their collective grief pressing down on them.
As Nana disappeared around the corner, the three friends stood together, united in their sorrow. They knew they had to be there for each other, to support one another through this unbearable loss. But in that moment, all they could do was grieve, their hearts broken by the absence of their beloved friend, Raika.
Meanwhile, Lay was sitting on the bleachers of the school basketball court, his eyes unfocused as he watched the boys play. The sound of the ball bouncing, sneakers squeaking on the floor, and the occasional cheer from the players felt distant and hollow. Lay's mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Raika and the emptiness her absence left behind.
Suddenly, one of his friends approached him, a grin on his face. "Hey Lay, how are you holding up?" he asked, his tone light-hearted.
Lay barely glanced at him, his expression hard. "It's none of your business," he muttered, his voice cold.
His friend, not picking up on Lay's mood, continued jokingly, "Come on, man, lighten up! What happened? Did your leader die or your girlfriend?"
The words hit Lay like a punch to the gut. He stood up abruptly, grabbing his friend by the collar and pulling him close. His eyes blazed with anger, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Don't joke about someone dying," he snarled. The intensity in his eyes made it clear that he was on the edge.
His friend, taken aback by the sudden aggression, raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was just joking," he stammered, his voice trembling.
Lay released him, shoving him back with a force that made his friend stumble. "Joking about death isn't funny," Lay snapped, his voice thick with barely suppressed emotion.
His friend nodded quickly, backing away. "I get it, Lay. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry."
Lay turned away, his fists clenched at his sides. The pain of Raika's loss was raw, and hearing it turned into a casual joke felt like salt in an open wound. He sat back down, his body tense, trying to regain his composure.
As his friend walked away, the sounds of the basketball game continued around him, but Lay couldn't shake the heaviness in his chest. The grief was all-consuming, a reminder of how much Raika meant to him and the void her absence left in his heart.
Meanwhile, Katsuya was on the basketball court, trying to keep his head in the game. Normally, he was the star player, leading his team to victory with ease. But today, his movements were sluggish, his focus scattered. The usual sharpness and energy he brought to the court were gone. The ball slipped from his hands, his passes were off, and he missed shot after shot.
"Keep it together, man! Just focus on the game," one of his teammates called out, frustration evident in his voice.
Katsuya stopped abruptly, the ball bouncing away as he stood there, his face darkened with a mix of anger and sorrow. He couldn't do this. Not today. Without a word, he turned and walked off the court, leaving his teammates bewildered and the game in disarray.
One of his teammates, a tall guy named Hiro, jogged after him. "Hey, what's your deal, man?" Hiro grabbed Katsuya's shoulder, trying to get him to stop.
Katsuya turned slowly, his eyes filled with a menacing intensity. The look in his eyes was enough to make Hiro step back and let go of his shoulder. "What's wrong with you?" Hiro asked, his voice softer now, tinged with concern.
Katsuya didn't answer. Instead, he just shook his head and walked away, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
As he walked past the bleachers, he overheard some of the other players murmuring. "I heard his leader died. They called her Raika the Invincible," one of them said, a smirk on his face.
"How pathetic," another added, and they started laughing quietly among themselves.
Katsuya's shoulders tensed, but he kept walking, trying to block out their cruel words. The grief and anger swirled inside him, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt. He walked away from the court, each step feeling heavier than the last, leaving behind the game that suddenly seemed so trivial compared to the loss he was enduring.