Everyone was on delayed reaction, to yesterday's events. Nina was no different from the others.

  Repeat it. Nina was no different from the others.

  Repeat it. It was a cardinal rule, to repeat those things that she wanted to be true.

  Repeat it. It was certainly important to anchor oneself when attempting to rewrite history and reality. The Red Eyes and Incarnadine Hands (Nina's goal! Nina's salvation!) was a black box. None of them knew exactly how it worked, except maybe Kaninchen, though Kaninchen was utterly absentminded, but Kaninchen was all-knowing, but Kaninchen was nilscient. Still, there were certain rules that governed the ways humanity interacted with history. If those rules were stolen away, humanity would no longer be. Someone who wanted to change history using a supernatural object had to possess a general idea of what they wanted to change.

  It could only be a general idea. Commoners were beneath absolute understanding; the Nobility approached it, but no House had it. Understanding everything was a wild influx of data; wasn't that obvious? Nobody had done it, ever. Nobles worked hard to get better and better at it, supposedly, but they were so far away from perfection.

  Perfection. Nina was the opposite of that, really... so facing Reiko was... more on that later!

  It had to be a solid idea, though. Reality cut back! Your heart could not waver. Prevarication meant divarication. Faltering meant fading, splitting, dying.

  Judecca did not falter when she threw herself into the warped space. She remained all herself, since she saw clearly that Nina was evil, a temptress who threatened to taint her dear colleagues, and fixated on that. It was really impressive. Nina had fought many interfaces with the other five—those who had offered their humanity to a foreign concept or aspect, harbingers for and vessels of weird and wild power. April was enthusiastic about making Nina put them down. Death was gross, kegare. Nina should handle it.

  She was glad to not have to kill Judecca. Was she glad that the others went along with her plan so easily?

  Repeat it. She was worthless, right? Nina. Less than. Her existence devoured the happy futures of other girls. Was it tiring? Reiko, was it tiring? Since Reiko had pried through her memories and got so angry that Nina was so self-abnegating, was it tiring? Listening to Nina repeat a single truth over and over again, it hurt, it really did, it really really hurt, but it was really true. It was something Nina could never ever forget. If her memories blurred under Reiko's power, if everything decohered and corrupted, then the special sensitivities and sicknesses still remained in the short term, all of Nina's nightmares remained in the long term. No, Reiko. Nina couldn't forget. She couldn't stop denying herself. Was she really degrading herself, saying mean things about herself? There was nothing to degrade. It was a triviality, you know? Negative value was allowed to get lower.

  Why confound her, then? Why did Sarai say that Judecca said that she really loved her? Why did Judecca still smile at her, cute smiles on an actually cute girl, V-neck satin dress replaced with a fluffy sweater? Why did Emi and Aine tell Nina to pay no mind to those two, insist on checking up on her, on making sure she was alright? The apparition of the red thread had connected to three girls...

  Why couldn't Judecca hate her straightforwardly? Even Sarai—Emi said that Sarai had chosen her surname herself, Maleficarum was from the Malleus, right? The great book of witch-hunting. It was genitive case, though, 'of witches.' Why that surname, and why not Kramer-Sprenger or something?

  Why did nobody outright oppose her when she said she wanted to keep Judecca alive? The girls who were willing to just kill her did not confront or delay her. April would have hurt her for trying. It was irresponsible of Nina to try, to be so sure she could save others. Nina should handle it, the issue. Nina should destroy the enemy. Nina, who was a sadist and a murderer, should just kill the interface; traitors to the human race could not, could never be salvaged...

  She had been so convinced she could save Judecca—where had that come from? Absolutely everyone was convinced that Nina was capable of leading, and would inevitably lead—why did they think that? Were they crazy? They were crazy.

  Why confound her? Why taint her heart? Why make her unsure? Why make it harder for Nina to repeat what was true, harder for Nina to know how to change her ill-nature? Judecca grasped her curse intuitively, Kaninchen relied on what Nina had said about herself. The others didn't get it, even though it was obvious, so obvious, she was so obviously evil? And even Judecca and Kaninchen spoke about her leading people and saving people and Judecca was scared of being saved even though that shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't be possible, and nobody should listen to her and nobody should be led by her and it had already been a day and they were all too attached, and this was all wrong, everything was so wrong, and wrong in the wrong way, and Nina felt sick about it all, and smile and be nice to be tolerated and become smile and nice to be ??? who knew?

  What did anyone want from her? Why did everyone seem to expect Nina to be something other than just another one of their colleagues?

  The knight was on par with the Nobility; Kornelia and RNGOD were too. You stopped Kaninchen from lying for three entire seconds, too. Of course they were all impressed! The rational voice in Nina's head said that.

  Oh rational reasonable Nina, why did being impressed by her take the form of love, for two or three of them? Oh, Nina was supposed to keep denying it, right? Since it wasn't possible to love her, and she wasn't capable of love. That was part of her truth. It had to be true to be overturned by the Red Eyes and Incarnadine Hands. Nina should close her eyes, and ignore the obvious.

  Close her eyes. Ignore it. Pretend she didn't want to be cared for.

  Deny it, the small victory, being important to others so quickly.

  It should be denied.

  Those who deserved love deserved love. Nina had only ever known love as being held down and harmed. Keep love away from her. Bring it closer. She felt so queasy.

  Aine, Emi, get away from her. Aine, Emi, come closer. Nina felt...

  "Aine, I don't understand what you're trying to do here," Emi said.

  "It's a really good anime," Aine said. "Like, a must-watch!"

  "It's about space..."

  What was happening?

  "Stuff like that bothers you, right, Nina?" Emi asked. Nina nodded.

  "Well, she has to deal with it in real life? Space, being called a witch. I think seeing stuff like that in a more fun context could be exposure therapy. There are nice things about space, you know?"

  "What are we watching...?" Nina mumbled.

  "Mamert Leda! The Mamert series is a very classic boys show, a mecha anime, but Leda's different!"

  "I've already seen it," Nina said.

  "Huh?" Aine said. "You didn't seem the type."

  "I've seen all of them," Nina said.

  "You're a superfan?" Aine said.

  "I watched all of them with someone else."

  "Then you don't have any problems with us putting it on, right?"

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "It's fine."

  "See, Emi? Yay..."

  What a filthy act of misdirection, from Nina. Nina hated this stupid series. April had made Nina watch it all with her. It was a show of power. April liked the series; Nina hated it. April liked making Nina squeak and squirm and cry out, and provoking her stupid phobias. April held Nina's leash, and her schedule. April controlled Nina's time trivially.

  This was a different girl. It was a disservice to Aine, treating her as if she were April. Nina couldn't help herself, though. Maybe Aine wouldn't do anything if Nina told her no, apart from getting annoying and pouty. Who knew? Nina listened, anyway.

  They were near the front. There was a single drop-down television there; there was another in the kitchenette. Aine stood on a bus seat, leaned over, pawed at it. It didn't move.

  Aine lost her footing, a little. Emi, who was taller, tip-toed up in the middle of the aisle. She pulled the television down quite easily. Aine groaned. Sophia, a little behind them, snickered.

  "It can't be that hard," Sophia said.

  "It literally is..." Aine said.

  "You're really not good with technology, Aine."

  "I literally am!"

  "Mhm."

  "Mphm! Miss amateur researcher, how are your technical studies going?"

  "They're going," Sophia said.

  Nina supposed that she didn't know the exact topic of the huge book Sophia had been reading yesterday. She had a different book today, actually. She leaned against the window, curled up coquettishly around it, flicked through it dilettantishly, a little dazed by it. The book was—Nina's vision crept around the corners, leerer, eavesdropper, how creepy—Essential Network Programming. There was a black and white illustration of a peacock running amok across the globe on its cover.

  Hadn't it been a grimoire, yesterday? Sophia was probably multi-talented. How much time would Sophia get to indulge in her talents, though? Their lives were ruled by 'adversity'; would Kaninchen afford them reprieve?

  They were about to watch anime, so the answer was probably yes.

  "Are they going?" Aine said.

  "Yep."

  "They're not stuck in the Luton Lewsey Shopping Centre car park?"

  "Um, maybe they are?" Sophia said.

  "At the bottom floor?"

  "There are multiple bottom floors in here?"

  "Whatever."

  "Whatever!"

  "Whatever..."

  "Technical studies?" Nina asked. She feinted a little; she didn't say network programming.

  "The study of technology," Sophia replied.

  "That's not a very helpful answer, Soph," Aine said. "Be nice to our Nina."

  Your Nina...

  Sophia got up. She showed Nina the book's cover, not knowing that Nina had already peeped. "I think the safeguarding of long-range communications is one of the most important problems facing human civilisation," Sophia said. "Although state power is now afforded to individual cities, cities exist in a unitary global economy. It would be bad if such a disaster interrupted the flow of commerce, wouldn't it? But such disasters happen all the time!"

  Nina nodded. (A disaster, repeat it!)

  "I've always wished to prevent such disasters," Sophia said. "It's... scary, knowing that something could corrupt you! You just want to talk to your friends, but something can gobble you up! People talk about the sociological aspects of controlling communication all the time, right? But I worry, I really do worry, that we don't have enough technical expertise to manage the issue."

  "We're not running out of communications engineers any time soon," Emi said. She gave Sophia a little look—is this necessary? Did Sophia need to dream so hard? She seemed annoyed at something.

  "We might run out of good ones. The bar is being raised all the time!" Sophia said.

  "I don't think that's... I think that's a little cynical," Emi said.

  "You sound like you work at an anatechnical institute. Ever upwards, ever upwards," Aine said.

  "I don't need to work at an anatechnical institute. We have an ainetechnical institute right here," Sophia said. She twirled about, and then pointed at Aine.

  "Does that mean that I'm the institute, or its leader?" Aine asked.

  "The latter. You're not an institute unto yourself. You need the rest of us too."

  "You're a great teammate, Soph," Aine said.

  Nina nodded. She lacked enthusiasm, though she hoped it didn't show. It wasn't that Sophia was a bad teammate—it would be really ungrateful of Nina to not acknowledge her contributions. Healing, shielding, damage: were those not warfare? Sophia had done everything; she had taken up support tasks even though her firepower was essential. Nina just didn't have especially much team esprit, given yesterday.

  Or perhaps it was all the technical talk? Nina wasn't especially technically proficient. She used Kirarika, a consumer-oriented operating system, on her phone and laptop. Everyone seemed to fear her becoming technically interested, anyway? April and Reiko were exceptions; but there were scarcely any more. Even Michiko was not one, fretting about 'data tainting.'

  Huh? The phrase missed context? Which way around, who tainted what? Nina wasn't worth worrying about, right? The correct way to interpret Michiko's words was obvious. Worry about the poor data.

  "I am. Thank you, Anny," Sophia said. "And with this book, I'll be a great communications engineer."

  Nina yearned, a little. She wished she were allowed to do things like that.

  "I wish you well," Nina said.

  "There's no need," Sophia said.

  That was true. Her wishes didn't amount to much very quickly. After all the adversity, maybe they'd matter?

  "Does the book cover recent stuff?" Emi asked.

  "It doesn't cover the black web, if that's what you were going to ask," Sophia said.

  Oh, Nina should probably find out more about the black web, given that their enemies could link it to her at any time. Nobody would get mad at her if she asked, probably. It was strategically important. They'd understand that she wasn't trying to do anything wrong or evil, not on purpose. She wasn't weaving its silk into a lure. She wasn't trying to make their tongues or meaning dissolve. If it happened, Nina would do everything she could to mitigate the effects! To stop it! It should be alright for Nina to learn about it.

  But she'd be inept with it, right? Nina always gave weird answers to communications problems. Reiko was very good with them, but Reiko had always been very good at everything. She was a very good girl.

  Wait, were the other girls working on something together? But what?

  If Nina didn't participate, she'd be dead weight. If she did participate, then either her ineptitude would impede them, or her ill nature would impede them, or maybe it wouldn't happen immediately, but Judecca and Sarai would take notice, and it would get them to dislike her even more.

  Why say anything?

  "Oh," Emi said.

  "Published in 2062," Sophia said.

  "It's a cutting edge field. Get newer books," Aine said.

  "They wouldn't let me order anything with the black web; in Joburg, I was advised to not relay to download e-books. I did, anyway, but they're not very good books."

  "I don't just mean the black web, though?"

  "Whatever do you mean, Anny?"

  "I mean everything ever."

  She leaned into Nina. Sure. She did.

  "Hey, should we get to it? I wanna unwind," Aine said.

  And, sure! Let them move on! Let them watch this stupid show again.

  ("March. March. Hey, March. We should go; once I'm admitted into one of the Second City International Institutes—probably an Anatechnical—to the Bùi Xanthippe Stellarium together. It'll be lovely. After all, space sparkles in fiction, even if you're a loser who won't admit that. I want to, the view, with you—no, March, we don't need to bring the other four. It'll just be us. What? Spaceless and placeless? Four pi steradians of void and vomiting? You're being silly, March. It won't be scary, shut up. Ah, you feel small beneath it all? Faceless beneath the lunar maria? I won't let you drown, my darling. So shut up. Take it.")

  Aine had the remote on her, unveiled it, a sleight. Hey, remember yesterday? When she unveiled Nina's phone, a sleight? Since it had dropped out of her pocket while she fought the knight? Who was the knight's master? Reiphontes, master of the black web. Her phone had sunk into a black pool, had failed to resist the waters that proceeded the partition of heaven and sea, both lost. A black speck inflected her phone's screen. A black speck infected her, though Nina was already so corrupt.

  Michiko had called her, then. Emi had answered. Now everyone was into communications. Everyone idly chatted about the black web, which was known on the surface of the Earth—news of it had not travelled to the Acacia.

  Nina wasn't an idiot. Okay, perhaps she was! Almost everybody called her that. The conclusion here was obvious, was it not? Not that she knew how the black web worked. Reiphontes would not be back for a week, surely? Ideally?

  The stupid slab sat next to her, teetering on the bus wall. Nina turned it on while Aine flicked through the media player, looking for that show. Nina put it back to sleep. Rei-chan and Micchan just wanted Nina to be safe, surely. That was why they—

  Shut up shut up shut up—

  That was silly. Let Nina try that again.

  One day, Nina would be able to exist safely besides others. There would be no special interest in her, nor would there be a special condemnation. She would not corrupt them with malefice; they would not seek to erase her, or to dominate her. Nina wouldn't let herself get dazed, before that. If someone hurt her, she wouldn't want them more, but want to run away, but want them more. She wouldn't have to fret about everything. If she didn't like something, she'd be allowed to say no.

  When would that happen? Never, unless she earnt it here. Never ever.

  Sorry. Did everyone expect Nina to gain some sort of conviction after the first day? So heroic, having faced this new world destroying power—having salvaged Judecca? She'd endured that, she'd endure what there was to come? Flying higher and higher, through the adversity, to the stars?

  Miserable mopey Nina would remain that way.

  Choke it down, Nina. What did the premonition say? Everything so much worse in every way? But she was with all of these nice girls, Aine and Emi and Sophia, and then Marzena came, and Haio sat next to Emi, and when Aine had found the show, Mamert Leda, Aria started to watch, half-patient, and that was about half the bus.

  Pretend, still. Fake happiness!

  Pretend again. The same petty pattern for the third time, repeat it. Since this time would be the last.

  Everybody planning to destroy her—

  Repeat it. Remember what you want.

  Repeat it. Forget about it. Shut up and watch

  the first episode again