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Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child
Book 15-13.1: Return to Sender

Book 15-13.1: Return to Sender

Yuriko fought to contain an elated giggle, but on second thought, it wasn’t as if anyone would see her. Well, her incarnation body seated on a rock in the middle of a park might draw attention, but, oh well. She giggled. Then chuckled. Then roared in laughter.

Ambrosia.

Many, many problems could be solved with the potent stuff. She’d beaten herself up over losing several Ren of it to the Pure Lands once she knew how useful it was, but it seemed like she’d finally found a source.

A pity that it took half of the green film to produce a single drop, Yuriko sighed as she sobered up.

Still, a drop of Ambrosia she had made her a drop richer. She drew it into her true body’s projection and pulled it into her Anima, carefully encapsulating it to prevent it from changing. Her incarnation body could use it but had no proper container for the stuff. She had to create one out of a flask or something. Back in her physical body, Yuriko-Lilibeth opened her eyes and stretched. It was close to noon and her tummy was complaining.

It was a lazy Sunsday, notwithstanding the troubles around the city that interrupted her day. Perhaps she should be thankful anyway since it allowed her to be objective when it came to working with the Protectorate. Ah, she also needed to prepare a better costume for herself. Yes, she would need it.

As for why, well, the green film—Quintessence, her subconscious whispered to her, and since it sounded better than calling it greenish film, she ended up naming it that. Quintessence was born from…well, fame? Worship? Faith? It held the weight of regard towards her, but she didn’t know why it only appeared now. She felt it was subtly connected to how her Mien worked. Actually, she was sure it was her Mien. The only mystery was why now? She guessed that it probably happened after she had sex with Heron and Gwendith for the first time, but the Mishala Mien couldn’t be that lewd, right?

Oh well. The gathering of Quintessence to compress into Ambrosia was the priority, and to gather the former, she needed to be…worshipped. Beloved. Sought after and lusted on. Her first thought was that she should be uncomfortable about all this, but she realised that in her heart, it was just the way things were. At least for the Mishalas. Maybe the Matriarch and the Progenitor were also able to gather Quintessence by the admiration of the masses. Converting it to Ambrosia would mean untold wealth after all.

So how could she gather Quintessence? How could she gather acclaim? For one thing, people had to know her. And the coincidence of starting modelling work seemed to fit the bill. Did she agree to it subconsciously because of the Mien? It was likely, and at least now, the Mien would provide tangible benefits to her gaining strength.

Aside from model work, she could also join the game of powered individuals that the Astorians seemed keen on playing. A large segment of the population despised Altered Humans, but from what she learned, the mortals made use of them anyway. A little bit more research through the Network told her that the most frequent threat faced by powered individuals were other powered individuals. Threats like the daemon incursions were only a small fraction of foes.

Should she be surprised that Altered were also used in war? The Republic of Astoria was merely the most populous state in North Astoria. Other nations were either hostile or neutral to it. The Republic has also once been a gathering of smaller city-states that banded together to survive, though the phenomenon of Altered Humans was a recent thing. Less than a century, according to History 101.

“I should get a proper mask. To get into the spirit of things,” Yuriko muttered while she held the old scarf she used as her costume. She was fine with just wearing the hoodies, tights, and sneakers, really, but that didn’t scream costumed hero like the others. Still, no reason to be hasty.

She wasn’t alone in the area, so she hopped off the boulder and made her way to a secluded nook. No cameras in sight, she put on the mask and flew back to her home.

The tower spirit told her to live life and enjoy it, but such a vague goal didn’t sit well with her. What did she do almost as soon as she arrived? She trained. Huh.

She was alone here, no true friends, no lovers. She lived a fake life in the body of a woman who accidentally killed herself reaching for her dreams. The least she could do was live it up a little, huh? Or was it the remnants of Lilibeth’s personality in her brain?

Yuriko’s initial thought about the other woman was that she had been introverted. A word she hadn’t even known before she lived here. That Lilibeth had a wild side was a surprise. She had accepted a friends-with-benefits relationship with a boy on whom she’d had a crush ever since they were little, after all. She didn’t delve, but Yuriko was certain Lilibeth had other casual lovers before, much as she was certain Evan had done the same. She was also sure Lilibeth’s reputation had tanked the moment Yuriko severed that relationship with him.

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Well, complications aside, she didn’t really think it would be a bother. She overheard more than a few snide comments from people, mostly girls, but the boys had more suggestive commentary as she walked past. When she agreed to model in a painting, even more so because she allowed the students to take her picture, the side comments and the sticky gazes increased and intensified. And now, looking through the dreamscape, she was sure many of the threads existed because of that decision.

But, while baring her body might give her quick results, she wondered if that was the path she wanted to take. She was also sure that having more than a few teasers would probably bar other paths and lock her into a singular one, at least as long as she maintained the identity. How long would she even stay in Astoria, she wondered. Would she have to search the continent, maybe even the entire plane, to find a way out? And what about Johann? That Ancient she met briefly at the gate had been pleasant company, but evidently, they had not wound up in the same area.

The old scarf around her eyes irritated her, though. The fabric was coarse and smelled a bit dusty. It shouldn’t have bothered her given her condensed aura but it somehow did anyway. She wondered if she should go for a face mask—one that covered her nose, mouth, cheeks, and chin—instead of a domino mask. Then again, could she do both? Then what, wear a hoodie and tights to complete the outfit? Or she could go with the local convention and wear something skin-tight and form-revealing.

Speaking of that…

“The powered armour is ready,” Heron said as he knocked and entered her room.

“Lead the way,” Yuriko said.

“It’s right here actually,” he said with a chuckle. “Should I help you put it on?” he teased.

“Hmmm, yes.” Yuriko giggled when she saw him redden with desire. “We can do the other thing later.”

“That’s more than welcome,” he said. He turned around and pulled a large metal case in after him. The room Yuriko stayed in was even smaller than her bedroom in Astoria. The case and her bed dominated the rest of the floor space, leaving only the small square Heron stood on. He flipped open the lid and pulled out a black bodysuit that would have worked wonderfully as her incarnation’s costume.

“This goes under everything,” Heron explained. “It has Ossifrum ribbing and circuitry that will allow you to connect to the outer armour’s controls.” He laid it across her bed and waited expectantly.

Yuriko hummed as she disrobed. Forceweave underwear had been her staple for so long and she wondered if this fabric would match up. Before she could strip out of her panties, Heron stopped her.

“You can keep those on if you prefer, but the bodysuit’s function allows ease of bodily functions and the extra cloth would make it less efficient.”

“I don’t mind,” Yuriko said as she removed everything else. She quite appreciated Heron’s burning gaze as his eyes roamed across her body. Chuckling, she fiddled with the flexible bodysuit and figured out how to slip it on. It covered her from neck to toe, the sleeves ending at her wrists. It was made out of black fabric, though when she used her Anima perception on it, she found the metal circuitry that basically ran all the way through. The Ossifrum, the bones from Scourge alloyed with metal, were wire thin and could easily bend.

The metal should have made it opaque to her senses, but that was probably only because the Ossifrum she knew about were those in ‘Chronian Gear. The fact that they were attached to living bodies was probably what made them resistant to Anima manipulation and sensing. The one inside the bodysuit, and presumably also in the rest of the armour, was unattuned. Her Anima slipped into the Ossifrum with startling ease, and she felt a bit of feedback from it. She didn’t try to figure everything out at the moment, simply letting her Anima and mind work on it. She dedicated a couple of strands of consciousness to explore the technology and nodded to Heron, who then removed a set of boots from the case.

She slipped them on, noting the Ossifrum circuitry. The boots reached up to her knees and had thick plates along the front of her shins and knees. It was a heavy pair of combat boots that she had little to complain about. Next was a battle skirt that covered her hips and thighs. It was longer at the back, reaching down a couple of inches below her knees, while the front reached just above it, covering the most revealing part of her suit. The next piece was a short jacket that connected to the waist of the skirt. It also closed at the front and was thick enough to obscure her bosom. Well, the bodysuit sorta flattened her chest anyway. A pair of gauntlets covered her hands and forearms up to her elbows. Like the boots, the gauntlets were thick and sturdy, though they didn't have any built-in weapons.

Not that she needed any.

The entire outfit had decorative blue LED lines that created a smooth outline and partially obscured her figure.

“You should braid your hair so it’ll fit under the helmet,” Heron said.

She nodded and her long, ankle-length hair unravelled from her ponytail, then braided into several strands that then looped around the back of her head. Heron presented a helmet that reminded her of Astoria’s motorcycle safety helmets, though this one was sealed airtight. She put it on and realised that the black visor was actually a faceplate and a mini screen that fed off small cameras embedded on the helm. She frowned at that. Her eyes were better than the cameras and it might impede her vision, especially with high-speed battles. Still, she could see using her Anima perception anyway, so it didn’t matter too much. Ah, there was an option to open the faceplate for her eyes, but it would ruin the perfect protection.

Heron revealed the last piece, which was a slender backpack that slotted easily behind the jacket. Several connection points up the helmet provided filtered air and allowed the heads-up display to function. A quick software check allowed her to know the backpack’s other functions, and she nodded in acceptance. The powered armour was good enough to conceal her features, at least enough that her actions wouldn’t hinder her companions’ projects.

“Have you found out where the rat’s hiding?” she asked, her voice altered by the helmet’s voice modulator.

“Yes.” Heron grinned.

“Then let’s go take care of the trash now.”