Chereads / Multiverse chat group zero / Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: SHADOWS IN THE SPOTLIGHT

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: SHADOWS IN THE SPOTLIGHT

The tall windows of Takumi's apartment reflected the deep indigo sky. Neon lights from the Tokyo streets below flashed in waves across the ceiling. At nearly midnight, the city pulsed with a restlessness that matched Takumi's own mood—an unsteady rhythm of vibrant yet fraught anticipation.

He was seated on the sofa, phone in hand, reviewing the Chat Group's latest updates. Though only an hour or two had slipped by in his world, nearly half a week had passed in the Chat Group HQ—ample time for deep planning, training, and forging wards. Those wards had been given to Kirino and Kyousuke last week, and so far, no new anomalies had threatened them, though the siblings remained ever curious.

But now, something else brewed in the Chat Group's system logs: fresh fluctuations. Nothing severe enough to form a full-blown rift—yet. Every beep on Takumi's phone screen reminded him how fragile the peace was.

Nearby, Ruri Gokou sat cross-legged on the floor, rifling through her leather-bound tome and referencing a laptop. The warm lamp beside her threw shadows across her black-lace sleeves.

"Another set of anomalous readings." Ruri's voice was subdued. "They're small, but they're scattered around the city."

Takumi sighed, sliding his phone onto the table. "So something's definitely ramping up. Like little sparks waiting to ignite."

Ruri nodded. "Rin and Mikoto are out there, scanning the major hot spots. Kazuma and Rimuru set up a base of operations at HQ to coordinate."

While the rest of the Chat Group handled these micro-fluctuations, Takumi had chosen to keep an eye on Kirino and Kyousuke's neighborhood—just in case. He had a hunch the siblings might not stay idle forever.

---

At half-past midnight, Takumi's phone buzzed. He grabbed it, eyes widening as Kirino's name lit the screen.

Kirino (whispering through the line): "Takumi. Are you awake?"

Her tone was urgent, laced with tension. Takumi's chest tightened in concern.

Takumi: "Yeah, what's going on?"

Kirino: "I'm… I'm stuck at a photoshoot downtown. It ran way later than expected, and I just felt something weird—like static in the air. That… rift-like feeling."

Takumi exchanged a glance with Ruri, who had paused her reading.

Takumi: "Where exactly are you?"

Kirino rattled off an address near Shibuya's outskirts—an area known for fashion studios and event spaces. "The rest of the crew left, but I had extra shots to finish. Now it's nearly deserted."

Takumi: "Stay put. Do you see or sense anything unusual?"

Kirino: "Just that electric buzz in my ears. The air feels heavier. I'm outside the building, near some old warehouse—again. Why do these places always appear out of nowhere?"

Takumi: "That area is near a scanning hotspot. We'll come get you."

Ruri was already packing her tome and laptop. She arched an eyebrow at Takumi. "Shall we?"

He nodded, ending the call. "Be there soon. Hang tight, Kirino."

---

Takumi and Ruri arrived on a deserted Shibuya side street by way of a discreet Chat Group portal. Tokyo's swirling neon hum felt strangely subdued in the late hour, as if the city itself held its breath.

Kirino stood under a flickering streetlight. Even in the gloom, her fashionable outfit was unmistakable—a pastel jacket, a short skirt, and tall boots. She hugged her arms around herself, expression taut with worry.

When she spotted them, her shoulders relaxed, if only slightly. "That was fast."

"We jumped," Takumi said simply, trying to be casual. He resisted the urge to mention the time compression that allowed the Chat Group to plan for weeks in a single day.

Kirino shot him a suspicious look. "You and your weird powers…" She turned to Ruri, eyes narrowing. "You. Kuroneko, right?"

Ruri's lips curved into a faint smile. "The one and only." She gestured with her tome. "Now, shall we see why the air is tingling?"

Kirino glanced around the empty streets. "It's quiet, but it feels like something's… waiting."

Takumi: "Let's check the warehouse area."

---

They crept along a narrow alley, guided by the flicker of overhead lamps. The old warehouse loomed ahead, corrugated metal walls plastered with faded posters advertising long-past events. A chain-link fence barred direct entry, but Takumi spotted a gap near the corner.

Kirino shivered. "Is it always warehouses with you guys?"

Takumi shrugged. "They're quiet, out of the way… perfect places for anomalies to fester."

Ruri paused, running her hand over the fence. "I can sense faint magical residue. Possibly leftover from a micro-tear."

Kirino bit her lip. "Is it safe to go inside?"

"We won't know until we do." Takumi's voice carried a gentle reassurance. "Stick close. And remember your ward if something tries to grab you."

Kirino patted the discreet charm pinned under her jacket's lapel. "Right."

They slipped through the fence's gap and picked their way across a cluttered yard. Discarded pallets, crates, and broken glass crunched underfoot.

Suddenly, a flicker of blue-white light danced along the edge of Takumi's vision.

Ruri (hushed): "I see it too…"

Kirino: "What? Where?"

Ruri pointed to a shadowed corner. "There."

In the dimness, arcs of energy crackled like distant lightning, forming a small swirling aperture. It glowed faintly, half the size of the anomalies they'd seen before but unmistakably real.

Kirino tensed. "Another portal… smaller, but it's definitely there."

Takumi inhaled, letting the teal energy within him rise. He'd practiced controlling it countless times, but the real test was always in the field. "If this expands, we need to close it before anything crosses through."

---

Before Takumi could conjure a containment sphere, the anomaly shimmered. A faint silhouette pressed against its surface—like a creature testing the barrier between worlds.

Kirino's eyes widened. "That better not be another translucent monster."

Ruri steeled herself, chanting softly under her breath to prep a sealing spell. But then, the silhouette flickered and vanished, as though repelled.

Takumi: "It's not stable enough to let anything large through… yet."

Kirino, emboldened by relief, demanded, "So we just close it now, right?"

Ruri shot her a withering glance. "If only it were that simple. We need to stabilize the rift first, then seal it."

Takumi raised his palms, teal light coalescing around them. He willed the energy to form a stable ring around the swirling anomaly. At the same time, Ruri's incantation took shape, faint violet runes dancing in midair. Their combined powers began weaving a net around the tear.

Kirino watched in awe. She pressed a hand over her ward, feeling the slight hum of magical resonance. The interplay of teal and violet lights cast dancing shadows across the warehouse's rusted walls.

Slowly, the swirling aperture shrank from the circumference of a dinner plate to something the size of a coin. Takumi's brow beaded with sweat; even a small anomaly required meticulous handling.

Ruri: "Almost— got it—"

With a final burst of light, the rift imploded, leaving behind nothing but a faint crackle in the air.

Kirino: "That's it? It's gone?"

Takumi exhaled heavily. "Yeah. No sign of something crossing over."

Relief flooded Kirino's face, quickly replaced by the simmering curiosity she was known for. "So that's how you do it? Just… neutralize them?"

Ruri closed her tome, a subtle smirk curling her lips. "You make it sound so easy."

Still trembling from adrenaline, Kirino pressed on: "So who or what keeps making these tears? Do you have any idea?"

Takumi shook his head. "Not yet. The Chat Group's scanning for leads, but the source remains a mystery."

---

They exited the warehouse yard, back onto the quiet street. Kirino let out a shaky breath, glancing at her phone: nearly 1:00 a.m.

"Are you heading home?" Takumi asked gently.

Kirino frowned. "Well, yes, but… I'm still unsettled." Her gaze lingered on Ruri. "You mentioned you can do illusions or spells to hide some of this from public view. Why hide it at all?"

Ruri hesitated. "Because widespread panic helps no one. Dimensional tears are dangerous enough without thousands of civilians trying to film them. If the world knew the full truth… it could be chaos."

Kirino's mind churned. For a girl used to adoring the fantasy of magic and anime tropes, the reality was more complicated and far scarier. "I see. So… you guys are basically an invisible shield, keeping people safe."

"More or less," Takumi said. "Anyway, let me walk you to the station. Shibuya's not exactly safe at night."

She snorted softly. "You'd protect me from creeps *and* cosmic monsters, huh?"

He managed a small grin. "That's the plan."

Ruri, phone in hand, typed a quick message to the Chat Group: *Minor anomaly neutralized. Returning to HQ soon.* Then she turned to Kirino. "I'll leave you in Takumi's care. I have matters to attend to at HQ."

Kirino arched a brow. "You're just leaving?"

Ruri's dark-lipsticked mouth curved into a cryptic smile. "I'm needed elsewhere. Don't get yourself into more trouble, Kirino."

She stepped away, pressing a button on her phone that caused a faint shimmer. In the blink of an eye, Ruri vanished.

Kirino blinked rapidly. "She's always so dramatic…"

Takumi shrugged. "You get used to it."

---

The walk to Shibuya Station was short but oddly peaceful. Despite the hour, a few passersby lingered, mostly night owls or those finishing late shifts. The neon hustle had calmed to a quieter pulse.

Kirino glanced at Takumi from the corner of her eye. "So… your parents, they really left you all this money? Enough to live alone?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's… complicated. I got lucky, I guess."

Something in his tone stopped her from pressing further. "And this Chat Group… it's a big deal, right? You said it covers multiple worlds?"

"Mm-hm. It has a realm—like an entire dimension—that moves at a different time scale. We can plan for weeks in what's only minutes here."

Kirino's eyes widened. "That's… insane."

Takumi turned to face her under the glow of a streetlamp. "Kirino, you understand now how dangerous all this is. I'm not trying to shut you out, but we can't risk your life."

She met his gaze. "I get it. But you can't expect me to just cower at home, either. If something threatens my family or friends, I'm going to do something."

A pause stretched between them, the city lights dancing in Kirino's amber eyes. Takumi swallowed, remembering how determined she'd been from the start.

"Look," he said softly, "if you ever feel that weird static again, or see another rift forming, call me. We'll handle it together, okay?"

She nodded, tension easing from her posture. "Okay."

They reached the station entrance. Kirino lifted a hand in a half-wave, stepping onto the escalator. "Thanks," she murmured before disappearing into the station's bright interior.

---

Standing outside the station, Takumi exhaled. He felt a subtle ache in his chest—worry, protectiveness, something else? Shaking off the lingering emotion, he pulled out his phone, opening the Chat Group app.

Takumi (typing): *Kirino is safe now. Minor rift closed. Anyone else need backup?*

A flurry of messages from HQ poured in:

- Rin Tohsaka: *We've got a tiny spike in Harajuku, but it's not forming. Stay on standby.*

- Mikoto: *Just checked Shinjuku—nothing big. Headed back to HQ.*

- Kazuma: *I'm bored, someone bring me a midnight snack.*

- Rimuru: *Under control here.*

Takumi smiled despite himself and typed back a short acknowledgement. Another night spent balancing normal teenage life and cosmic firefighting… and it wasn't over yet.

---

A quick swirl of energy later, Takumi was in the Chat Group HQ's War Room. Kazuma lounged at a console, fiddling with the interface. Rimuru sifted through magical residue samples displayed on a holographic projector. Mikoto and Rin stood near a large city map pinned with glowing markers.

Rin: "Takumi, Ruri told us you neutralized a small rift in Shibuya. Good job."

He nodded. "It wasn't too big. Still… it's happening more often."

Mikoto tapped the map, pointing to multiple flickering dots. "We're seeing these micro-rifts open and close in random bursts. It's as if something is testing the dimensional boundaries."

Kazuma stretched his arms overhead. "Sounds to me like an enemy who's poking around before launching a full-scale attack."

Rimuru frowned. "Let's not jump to conclusions. It could be natural dimensional turbulence."

Ruri appeared at the doorway, dropping into the conversation with her usual dramatic flair. "Natural or not, it's accelerating."

She gestured at the city map, where markers glowed in a pattern that almost resembled a spiral. "If we connect the data points, it suggests the anomalies are converging on something."

Takumi leaned in, studying the arrangement. "Converging… on central Tokyo?"

Ruri gave a single, grave nod. "Yes. Some epicenter we haven't identified yet."

A quiet unease settled over them. If the anomalies were building toward a bigger event, they needed to prepare. More training, more watchers, more elaborate wards. But questions loomed: Who or what orchestrated it?

---

Over the next few days (which equaled a fraction of a day in the real world), the Chat Group mobilized. They set up advanced scanning arrays throughout Tokyo—tiny magical or technological nodes hidden in lampposts, alley corners, or behind store signs. Rimuru coordinated the manufacturing, using slime-based shapeshifting to camouflage them.

Mikoto fine-tuned her electromagnetic sense to detect rifts. Rin refined the wards, working with Ruri to create a layered city-wide barrier. Kazuma used his free time to practice with different artifacts from the HQ's arsenal—though he mostly complained about wanting a "legendary sword" instead of the "Blade of Mediocrity."

Takumi dedicated hours in the simulation chamber, forging greater mastery over his teal energy. The swirling aura had grown more stable under his will, letting him shape blasts or protective shields more precisely. Each time he conjured that energy, he felt a step closer to understanding it—and a step further from the ordinary life he once knew.

---

In the real world, mere hours passed. Kirino went about her photoshoots and school life with a persistent itch in the back of her mind—an awareness that the city teetered on the edge of unknown threats. At times, she'd text Takumi about minor oddities she sensed, though none proved significant.

Kyousuke watched over Kirino with cautious eyes, worried she might run off alone if something happened. But the siblings found some measure of comfort in the wards Takumi had provided.

Meanwhile, the "Saekano" half of the city bustled with news of an upcoming festival for aspiring creators—dōjinshi artists, light novel writers, and amateur game developers. Eriri Spencer Sawamura and Megumi Kato were rumored to be part of some special event, though Takumi only heard bits and pieces from classmates.

He wondered, in passing, how normal these pursuits must feel compared to his double life. Yet a pang of longing for simpler days tugged at him.

---

"Hey, Taku," Mikoto called out from across the War Room, snapping him from his musings. "We're finalizing the schedule for round-the-clock watch in central Tokyo. You in?"

Takumi approached the large holo-map, joining Ruri, Rimuru, and Kazuma. "Sure. Just tell me what shift."

Rimuru scrolled through a timeline. "We can cover most nights with minimal overlap. But we might need you to handle late afternoons—especially around Shibuya or Akihabara."

Kazuma grinned. "You get to go on an anime adventure in Akihabara while I watch an empty field on the city's outskirts. Not fair."

Ruri sniffed. "I chose that field for you because it's quiet—perfect for a lazy fool."

He glowered, but the others only chuckled.

Rin entered, carrying a stack of folders. "Here. Each file contains the data for your assigned zones: known hotspots, historical anomalies, sensor node locations. Study it thoroughly."

Takumi accepted his folder. "Understood."

Rin tapped the table. "We suspect the anomalies might escalate within the next day or two—'real' days, not HQ days. Remain on high alert."

"Right," they chorused, the weight of her words sinking in.

---

After the meeting, Takumi lingered in a smaller lounge of HQ—an area lined with tall windows overlooking a futuristic skyline. The Chat Group dimension always dazzled him, no matter how often he saw it. Towers soared above holographic streets, airships weaving between them like graceful birds.

Ruri joined him, her expression pensive. "You're worried about Kirino."

He didn't bother denying it. "Yeah. She's headstrong. If a bigger threat emerges, she might try to help… or at least investigate on her own."

Ruri's gaze dropped to her tome. "She's always been that way—even in other timelines. But the wards should protect her. And you'll be there if she calls."

Takumi nodded. "I just wish we had a handle on what's causing this. Then we could end it before she or anyone else gets hurt."

A soft hush fell. Ruri placed a hand on his shoulder, just for a moment. "We'll find the culprit. All of us, together."

He offered a small, grateful smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Ruri."

---

At last, he teleported back to his apartment, the hush of Tokyo's early morning hours enveloping him. The sky was starting to lighten, a pale glow creeping over distant rooftops.

Yet his heart felt heavy with anticipation. Soon—maybe today, maybe tomorrow—the converging anomalies would reveal their true shape. And he'd be ready, with the Chat Group by his side.

In the meantime, he had classes to attend, errands to run, and a life to maintain. That balancing act was becoming second nature, though it never got easier. The fatigue of constant vigilance wore on him.

Still, as the first rays of sunrise touched his window, a flicker of optimism sparked in his chest. They'd closed multiple rifts with minimal harm. They had wards in place for Kirino and Kyousuke. The Chat Group's watch network expanded daily. Slowly but surely, they were tightening the net on this elusive threat.

> Takumi thought: *We're getting closer. When the final confrontation comes, I won't face it alone.*

With that comforting realization, he let himself doze for an hour or two before the next swirl of daily life pulled him back into motion.