Chapter 92 - Graduation By Fire (Part 2)

The black wyvern scared the four down from the rooftop with another billowing breath of fire, as they then proceeded down the steps as fast as their feet would carry them; urged on by the panicked screams of the other Shiroichi survivors, rising from below like the cries of the damned.

"Akira-kun is in the auditorium," CITA said, just as she began phasing—sinking through the solid cement stairwell. Like it was nothing. 

Until Keiko stopped sharply, on her downward flight, to grab her by the arm. 

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Worry not: I shall meet you there."

And with that said, she was gone; leaving the other three to exchange mystified glances.

"That injury on her face…" Kanna said.

"Did she get into a fight with Akira?" Keiko said, finishing her thought.

"Well, if you ask me, Akira has definitely been acting strange," Vash chimed in, nodding to himself. "It may be she feels overburdened: after all, she is only human. And we haven't exactly been the easiest group to manage." His gaze became forlorn; guilt-ridden. "And I feel like she's been going out of her way to avoid us."

"It wouldn't be her first meltdown," Kanna mused sadly. "Back at the monastery...after what happened...she took it really hard."

A pall of deep regret collapsed like a curtain upon the party as it simultaneously dawned on them that, all along, they'd considered their glorious leader to be invincible. And thus, it would seem, had come to take her strong presence for granted.

"We need her," Keiko said—what everyone else was thinking, shared aloud. "As Akira-kun's women, we've both been neglectful of our duty to comfort her."

Kanna gave a nod while Vash scratched the back of his head, looking awkward.

"It feels weird...being a guy again," he professed, with a nervous chuckle. Then paused to scratch his chin, his eyes closed in thought. "Although, being a man comes with its own perks as well. So it's not an easy choice."

Keiko gave a frustrated growl. "There's no time for this! Come on!"

She started back down the stairs, with renewed urgency. Prompting the others to frantically follow, with mutual growing concern for the condition of their greatest ally.

Meanwhile, Akira had found herself trapped in the firm embrace of CITA's [Sentinel], unable to move. Even as she could hear the many screams, and feel the whole of the Shiroichi rumble as the raging beast was repeatedly dashing itself against it. Crashing its face through windows to incinerate, then summarily consume unsuspecting Shiroichi students.

"Did that bitch leave me here to die?!" She'd never experienced being held in a pro wrestler's grip before, but she imagined it might be similar. 

When it finally dawned on her that any further struggle would be futile, it was during the subsequent little timeout that Akira was given a much-needed moment to rethink her recent actions. To allow her sizzling hot temper to cool, and begin to reconsider her current position within the grand scheme of things…

For what reason did she exist? To generate profits, and endlessly cultivate?

Or, was she but a simple, brutal creature: driven purely by lust and vengeance? With her primary motivation throughout all her adventure still being "to rape the Azure Oracle."

Should I try to just...enjoy the ride? She wondered. Though Akira Maximilian was never the type to live indiscriminately: his every step was a carefully orchestrated plan, carried out with the sole intent of furthering the sprawl of his great empire. Plans he had always formulated with zero regard for the army of pawns under his employ.

Whereas nowadays, his "pawns" all had faces, as well as names attached to them which he actually cared to remember. 

These "pawns" had now become his friends, making it so that every step he made now risked the lives of people he knew and cherished—making things a good deal more difficult.

And here he was; trapped, when they needed him the most.

She lowered her gaze, biting back tears.

"Please...don't make go through this again," she whined.

"It never gets any easier." 

Glancing up sharply, her stare hardened as it fell upon CITA, just as she was emerging from out of the floor to linger in front of him. Bearing a sympathetic gaze, her hands clasped in front of her. 

"It never gets any easier," she repeated, "to watch as those you are trying to protect"—she held up her hands, one brutally mangled by Akira's prior attack, staring soberly into her pale palms, folding her fingers gently—"slip through your grasp."

Akira gasped. So, CITA really did know what it was like to be in her position…? 

At which point, she considered what the purple elder had told her, about the nature of CITA's powers; musing aloud as she faced her with wide eyes: "Controlling puppets over long distances means you could also 'see' everything they do as well, doesn't it?"

CITA gave a nod. "Correct. My processor is capable of constantly tracking the movements of up to 100 puppets, simultaneously. Serving as my eyes and ears, strategically spread out all across Nirvana. With whom I am able to communicate with and recall to me at will, as they constantly seek out the potential presence of viruses."

"Viruses? Do you mean as in...computer viruses? The kind you get from browsing shady websites with a shit ton of popup ads?"

CITA's eyebrows became slanted, in her perplexity. "Umm...not quite," she said. Then regaining her seriousness, before continuing: "A [Virus] program on the Deep Karma server can come in many shapes and forms, with the potential to cause irreparable damage to the network infrastructure. It is my purpose as a [Vaccine] to track and eliminate them."

"So, Tooki-san is actually—"

"A virus. And an especially powerful one, at that. I first learned of its existence through the eyes of the puppet I have placed here in Mithil, when she recalled to me after witnessing the corruption of the former town."

"You mean Madame Lakshmi," Akira said. "The one at the milk bar, who attacked us."

CITA nodded. "I recalled her to me just before you reached her private quarters, when her original plan to get you to comply had backfired. Knowing that, through your subsequent investigations, you would eventually learn she was living in the Ivory Quarter. And so it would lead you here to assist me; the true fate of the Ivory Quarter being, thus far, unknown to all those on the outside."

"Greaaat." Akira huffed, looking downcast. "So you're admitting to the fact that you used me, just like everyone else."

"Out of necessity, I had to. Or else I would've risked not being able to do anything to save the students." She shook her head, frowning sadly. "My mission required it—I've been following your exploits from the moment you arrived at Nirvana, and judged you to be the most capable adventurer I could seek out for assistance."

"You've been following me since I first got here?" Akira's ire was replaced by an incredulous stare. "If so, that must mean one of your puppets is in the Nandi dungeon!"

"I am somewhat jealous," CITA replied, surprising Akira with a mischievous grin. "She gets to 'bump uglies' all day and all night, while I'm trying to not let it distract me when I am engaging all the hard work." A smoldering, intense look was growing in her eyes—her underlying feelings of passionate lust shining outward as she brought her face close to Akira's.

"Akira-kun...you understand the ways of this world, far better than most. And that is why I attach so much respect to your name."

"Even though I'm so pathetic that I tried to kill you…"

"Shh." She brought a finger to her lips, exuding patient warmth through her smile. "It is foolish to expect absolute perfection from anyone."

"Seriously?" Akira exclaimed. "I punched you in the face!"

"And I made The Sentinel slam you into the ground." She giggled. "So, what of it? Us fighting was 'more fun than a barrel of monkeys,' and now it is my Pussy.exe that desires the slamming. Thus, I recommend we adapt our strategies."

Akira gave a weary smile, along with an exasperated sigh—why was it always the crazy ones?

"Well, I know there's some shit going on outside"—she grabbed the android by her smooth steel thigh, pulling her down toward the ground so that they were both on their knees, grinning—"but if you insist, I suppose I can use this time to teach you all sorts of things."

Leaning forward abruptly, CITA halted Akira's talk with a surprise kiss on the lips as the steadfast arms of [The Sentinel] simultaneously gave way. Allowing Akira free use of her hands: touching along the sleek frame of the android's slender, womanly design. Down to the slight, but noticeably accentuated roundness of her mechanical hips, and perfectly smooth and shiny ass.

"So, this is...cultivation!" CITA cried, having only ever felt like this before in a secondhand sense, through her puppets—never personally.

Overcome by emotion, she surrendered her senses without resistance to Akira's touch, as her lubrication station came into full swing: spitting and splashing Akira, repeatedly, with a fierce, stinging minty sensation as their intimate exchange proceeded, unabated. Wholly unconcerned with the chaos brewing in the halls beyond the auditorium.

Akira was erstwhile aroused by a distinct, suctioney feeling to CITA's tongue whilst it rolled around in the moist cavern of her mouth with careless abandon; a rambunctious, spiky-haired young adventurer exploring their first dungeon.

"CITA-chan!" Akira broke away from her abruptly to exclaim, wide-eyed. "I see your face is…!"

Healing, she had meant to say; before CITA quickly pulled her back in for more. For, in fact, CITA—through the employ of her quick, robotic wit—had taken the opportunity to drain a considerable amount of Akira's saliva with her tongue's secret vacuum-suction function: repurposing her accumulation of the vital, gooey ichor (through a series of hidden internal chemical processes) into a curative substance that could be used to accelerate the regeneration of her broken biomechanical flesh.

But anyway, what was taking those three so long to get here?