----------------------------- ----------------------------- Ah! ASMS Muyo ½! Data JC: The Darkened Hall in the Deepest of Nightmares by Jon Carlson (jukkajikka@hotmail.com) and John Rossmaier (the_rossmage82@hotmail.com) ----------------------------- ----------------------------- Prologue : No Need for Sleepless Nights! The darkened hall was suddenly filled with the low hum of an ignited blade as the figure crept closer to the tall doors of the adjacent chamber. The gaping expanse behind him formed an opressive barrier that prevented him from even considering retreat. His short, clipped breaths produced a chilling echo that reverberated off of the cold stone walls. Ignoring all fear, he made an effort to slowly press forward one step at a time. He could feel his heart racing; his pulse surged through his veins as he advanced towards the light that poured through the crack in the doors like a thin white blade, contending for dominance with the green glare from his own weapon. This was the moment that he had been waiting for. With a tentative final step, the young man stretched forth his hand to the stone doors, stopping a mere four feet from them. His eyes fluttered closed, and he felt for the material, grasping its texture and sensing its mass as he found its threads in the interwoven strands of the Force. Opening his eyes and leveling his gaze, he firmly commanded the chamber to be open to him, and the gates complied, swinging forward with a strength ten times his own physical capability. With a newfound resolve, the young warrior strode into what could possibly become his final arena with a purpose in his step. The pristine white of the walls and floor of the room were marred only by its lone occupant, a figure clad in robes the color of the darkest night. Words had no place in this confrontation. It was here, and now, that all was to be decided. Only one would walk away from the encounter, and the other would surely meet his creator that day. Sizing up his opponent, the dark figure rose from his ivory throne, and awaited the advance of the young warrior. With a quickening pace, the champion mounted the steps to the dais and prepared for the exertion of battle, his blade held low before him in a two-handed grip. The dark one raised his hand as if in salute, and his own weapon launched from his sleeves, its crimson blade flickering wickedly in the light. The first contacts were made with much noise, the battle cries of each opponent screaming out as their blades met and crashed with electricity and flying sparks. What followed was a blur of strikes, each trying to out maneuver the other, attempting to second-guess one another's thoughts. The warrior of light fought his foe down the steps and to the floor of the chamber, unrelenting in his advance. With an evil grimace, the dark one let loose with a blast of electricity from his fingertips. The young man was propelled through the air to land painfully on his back a number of yards away. He tried once to regain his footing, but his legs refused to obey him. As the shadowy figure advanced upon him, he could hear the low tones of an ancient spell being cast. The old sorcerer closed in on the boy who was no longer able to move at all. Raising his hands in a final attack pose, he prepared to deal a death strike to the final champion of all that was good... "Gooooood Morning! It's only two minutes past the hour, and I'm your host The Rotund One on the Magic Morning show here on Magic One-oh- seven point nine!" screamed the radio as sunlight poured into the open windows. The world seemed a blurb of color, with shapes that resembled the appearance of a four-bit computer game as Jon fought away the temptation and serenity of sleep. Tossing his comforter aside, he swung his legs over the edge of the short bed and stepped out onto the cold stone floor. Jon calmly turned the volume of the radio down as he then wondered why all of a sudden he had begun dreaming again. He hadn't dreamt one single night for months since returning to the Arkansas School for Mathematics and Sciences. He surely hadn't expected such an eclectic dream that crossed concepts like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, either. It was nothing to complain about of course, but definitely ranged far into the out of the ordinary category. Finding his glasses, Jon placed them neatly on his face and gazed at his slowly focusing image in the closet mirror. He sighed as he wished to himself that he wasn't so heavy all the time, though everyone was always insisting to him that he wasn't. Sometimes he wished so much with all his heart that he could be that young warrior that it truly hurt him deeply when he returned to the realm of reality. Reality was very unkind to him when it came to heroics and luck. There is no place for an adventurer in a world mapped down the last detail and populated with 'sensible' human beings, he thought to himself wryly. He flexed for the mirror briefly, admitting to himself that though he was a little soggy in the midsection, he was no slouch in upper body strength. Jon returned his attention to the radio as the opening strains from The End by the Doors began, his eyes wandering to the window and the view of the outside world it provided. //This is the end// My only friend, the end// He watched the sun peek through the trees at the crest of the hills surrounding Hot Springs. The room seemed to hover in a deep stillness save only for the soft recurring tones of the guitar and organ, and the singsong strains of Jim Morrison's voice. Jon didn't have to take a look around his dorm room to know that it was a mess, piled high with clothing, ramen wrappers, and endless stacks of class notes. For a moment, the chilling questions entered his mind again, as they had for months now: am I wasting my time here? Am I wasting my life? What do I need that I feel such a void for? To answer his last question in the immediate sense, he realized he need to get dressed soon, to eat breakfast with the one person that truly made any of this matter to him. Jenny was by far the one person he could say knew him better then his parents ever could, and loved him at least as much. The blank stare he bore as he gazed out of the window slowly replaced itself with a warm smile as he turned to suit himself up for the long day's activities. It was a Monday, and it sure felt like it already. *[End of Prologue]* ----------------------------- ----------------------------- Episode 1 : No Need for a Hello "Morning, John," said Carlson. "Morning Jon," replied Rossmaier. Jon smirked and hefted his bag higher. "You do realize how infinitely bizarre that sounds every time we do that, right?" queried Jon of John as they departed their connected suite for the event of tortured nourishment that was breakfast. Jon Carlson stood around six feet two inches tall with midlength sandy blond hair and green eyes. His good friend John Rossmaier stood only a few inches shorter then him, with brown hair and blue eyes. Both young men wore glasses, and both shared the same passion in entertainment: Japanese Anime, and lots of it. "Bizarre? No. Confusing to anyone else but us? Maybe," replied John to Jon as the elevator stopped on their floor, and they stepped on. Thus began the tiring ritual of the day's events, now almost painfully worn into the habits and minds of the youth that shared in the joyful burden of state funded education alongside the duo. To get started on this unique scene, there is really too much to just walk into. Good reader, let this humble narrator tell you a few things about the Arkansas School of Mathematics and Sciences. ----------------------------- [Concerning the Territory] In the beginning, ASMS was a project that was devised to bring together the brightest and most promising students from all over the state and pool their intelligence in an environment that would not only stimulate their learning, but offer instruction and services that wouldn't be dreamt of in some of the areas that they came from. In theory the school was an excellent idea, but take the stress of College and place it on the minds of High School teens in an atmosphere that was as liberating as it was restricting (the faculty had to legally become temporary guardians for the vast underage populace), and what results is a powderkeg of psychological problems. That's not to say that the faculty isn't qualified to handle the needs of the students, but merely that there is a fundamental oversight to the freedoms and normal day to day adolescent problems of these beleaguered teens. To say that the faculty isn't qualified to handle the needs of the students is another matter altogether. By far it is undeniably arguable that they're not. For the most part, though, there are solidly placed professional figures among the teachers and administrators of ASMS. Unfortunately, however, the school had always held the worst habits of priority and placement. For example, one of the Chemistry teachers, Mrs. Chafin, was there because at one point in time she was a state Senator, and from time to time she keeps the flow of funding streaming into the school; the woman couldn't really teach a lick of chemistry if her life depended on it, though, and her students resented her hateful attitude. Our Principal, a diminutive woman named Vickie Logan, was former Miss Arkansas 197X (we'd never determined what year), and held a PhD in Dental Hygiene. Most of the school's resources were geared chiefly to the recruitment of new students, and the continual advertising of the school to not only prospective investors, but also the board of directors and the state education board as well. ASMS was always in a never-ending cycle of micro-managed improvement and disarray, where nobody could ever figure out what was truly happening or if anyone really cared. Policies were made, enforced, and broken with short succession. 'Students are not allowed to drive' becomes 'Students are not allowed to drive alone.' This is followed quickly by 'Students are not allowed to drive during the week,' and finally, 'Students are not allowed to drive during school hours.' There was never enough money for things we needed such as printing paper, but there was seemingly always a need for eye-catching improvements like an interactive video conferencing system. Suffice to say, hopefully one can begin to grasp the bureaucratic, anally retentive, and incompetent nature of this school which is about to undergo a very drastic and nasty attitude adjustment. ----------------------------- [Concerning the Structure] What needs to also be briefly explained is the structure by which this story will be told. There are two chief protagonists to consider, and just as a castle cannot have two kings, neither can a detailed story have two heroes. This is the account which shall be told overseeing the events surrounding Jon Carlson, as recorded years after their occurrence. Concurrently, there can be found the works concerning the experience as told through the eyes of John Rossmaier, and those shall detail the events surrounding him. These stories cross as frequently as any of the lives of normal friends would, but they each explain a different facet to the tale at hand. Bear with us, dear reader, as we are merely human. ----------------------------- [Concerning the Hero] Being as how the reader should already grasp a rudimentary interpretation of the other characters we shall encounter briefly, let us sojourn for a moment into the life of the one who will be affected by it the most in this side of the tale. Jon Carlson is somewhat your average High School dreamer. He thinks he has a firm grasp on his goals in life one minute, and the next he will find himself flailing about blindly in search of answers. He has a gift with computers that is not easily defined, being as how he can work with any system, and figure his way around technology, but when getting down to actual programming, he tends to fall asleep after a few hundred lines of code. He is talented at graphic artwork, and enjoys playing music on any one of the three instruments he has picked up: the saxophone, the guitar, and the piano. He can be easily explained as a Jack of all trades (and consequently a master of none.) At this point in his life, he has a girlfriend that is tentatively also his fiancée, though sometimes he's not so sure about her being serious enough. There's enough love there to be certain, but trust is sometimes hard coming from the young man concerning female companionship. Let this not be a guide of the rest of Jon's attributes, however, for he is one who would accept friendship without any cause or gain on his behalf. He is trustworthy and loyal to the point of being considered naïve, and arguably he is. Since birth, he has envisioned several occupations for himself ranging from the common (for children), to the unique (for Mormons.) He had wanted to be a Paleontologist at five, an Astronaut at ten, and a Hollywood Director at fourteen. Everything he wanted to be was usually filled with romantic notions and fueled by the desire to become something truly spectacular, if not for someone else then truly only for himself alone. He loved Anime and Science Fiction because it gave him an escape from the mundane, the unspectacular, and the cruelly painful. It gave him a grasp of what is always too far away to dream about and yearn for if one is continually stuck in a world that must be 'sensible' and 'down to earth.' While he is watching, however, he can allow himself all the room in the world to dream and wonder at the possibilities in the universe. Sometimes it's all that truly kept him alive. ----------------------------- [Concerning Our Friend] John Rossmaier is perfectly capable of describing himself, but for those who only discover this side of the story, let me describe him briefly. John is a soulful fan of Anime and Science fiction who is strong in Mathematics and scientific reasoning. This is actually opposed to Jon who is more inclined to excel in things that don't require numbers (why he is in a Math and Science school continues to baffle him.) Rossmaier is a loyal friend who, like our hero, doesn't quite have a firm grip on what he wants out of his life yet. He is well grounded, however, and makes far better grades then Jon. They continually plot interesting combinations in the Anime world, and collect fanfiction and illegally recorded Internet episodes of their favorite series. ----------------------------- [Concerning the Theorems of the Universal Structure] It has been said that there are infinite universes spanning millions of possibilities. Each of these worlds might also be said to have different laws of physics, different histories, different people and places that were placed in an off-chance. The strands of time are said to be not a continual linear flow, but a weaving of passages circling and nearly crisscrossing each other continually as according to Einstein's theorems. It is then not so farfetched to think of realities in such a way, interwoven in a great tapestry; when certain strands are brought close together, it is possible to make them merge for a time, however briefly, to cross over one particular time and space. Higher-order beings, however, exist in all realities if this theory is correct even in the slightest. For example, if the omnipotent being Q existed in only one universe of the many infinite, that is enough for him to exist in all of them due to his powers of inter-dimensional mobility. Thus it is easily explainable how our young heroes stumble upon the misplaced bastion of power that they do here in our world. Now that there has been an adequate explanation of our scene, this humble narrator hopes the reader will delve into the story with a little better understanding and comprehension, as well as not brushing this tale off as mere SI dribble. *[End of Episode One: the Ph...oh, nevermind. It's almost not even worth making an inside joke at this point!]* ----------------------------- ----------------------------- Chapter 2 : Anticipation of the Carnival As could be expected, the path of true love never ran smooth. Jon stalked into his room with a scowl smeared across his face. He cast his bookbag to the ground and flopped down onto the bed, welcoming the comforting folds of his blanket once more. The feel of the warm afternoon sunshine on his face soon roused the young man, though, and he felt like taking a walk. Quickly changing into some workout gear, he headed up towards Charter Field, the high-rise smattering of transplanted grass and mud that served as a universal sports field at ASMS. Taking poise towards the center of the field, Jon began his routine. That is, he never bothered to learn any katas, or produce any forms, yet he would work on the form and flow of his kicks, punches, and evades. He tried once again to execute a forward summersault, and landed smartly on his rear as he always did. Barely acknowledging the disappointing results, Jon kicked himself to his feet and continued his exercise. A while later, exhausted and panting, Jon jogged up to the fence surrounding the field, and grasped its chain lengths. He stared into the valley that was formed between the cliffs of Charter Field, and the tall buildings of the residence hall. He paused a moment to drink in the stillness of the place, the quiet repose of the afternoon; Jon soon felt refreshed and calm, the aggravation of the day's events slipping away. He was disturbed from his reverie by the heavy metallic sounds of someone mounting the steps to the field. Jon decided that it was time to leave; he wasn't all that social, and he always practiced alone where no one could see or ridicule him. Jon began the descent to the valley below, gathering the few things he had brought with him. It was a rare surprise for him, though, when he encountered what had gotten him so worked up in the first place. Jenny smiled at him weakly, knowing that she was treading a thin line with him that afternoon. She handed him a small letter, and kissed him lightly. She then screwed up her face and made a sign that indicated that he should go take a shower. "Ugh! Icky boy!" she said in her mock-child voice. Jon grinned and reached out to her as if to embrace her in a bear hug. The sweat on his shirt was clearly visible. "Aaagh! No! No touchy!" she continued, as he chased her down the steps and into the courtyard. She stopped and sat down at a picnic table. "Sit. Talk to me for a little bit, okay?" she said, turning a little bit more serious. Jon complied, taking a seat across from her and leaning forward on his elbows. "Sure, Jen; what do you want to talk about?" he replied in his best 'oh boy, here we go' voice. Her expression immediately softened his resolve, though, as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry about worrying you, and I didn't mean to upset you by saying what I did in World Studies," she told him, a rare look on her face that spoke of her sincerity. They had just gotten through a weird time for the both of them, as Jenny had almost dropped out of ASMS and returned to her hometown school at the end of the Fall Semester. Though the circumstances of her leaving were taking a toll on Jenny, the ordeal of possibly losing her took its own toll on Jon. It can be described accurately as a full-blown co-dependant relationship between the two. Jenny had finally decided to return to ASMS after Christmas break, as she discovered for herself that she couldn't be without him. It had bugged him, though, when in World Studies that day she had lost her temper and told him in so many words that she wished she'd never come back. That left Jon with a bitter taste in his mouth, and he resented the way she sometimes lashed out at people like a hurt child. Now, however, she looked as though she was truly sorry, and he couldn't really blame her for blowing it; he knew she had enough problems in her life and he knew that he was her salvation as much as she was his. "What exactly are you sorry for, again?" asked Jon, as the brief scowl on his face turned to an impish grin. "I didn't mean to say that I regret coming back-" "Because you don't have any regrets, right?" "Well, yeah, that, and also I just didn't need to say it," she admitted. "It was uncalled for and childish, and I'm sorry." "I know, and I absolve thee, poor wretch," said Jon in an evangelical tone (that's a 'praise Jesus' tone, not anything to do with Shinji Ikari.) She smiled at him, and giggled slightly. Jon then turned his gaze slightly stern and continued. "Really, though, Jen, I really don't like hearing crap like that," he said with exasperation in his voice. "It's as though you're blaming me for coming back, and I told you it was your choice. That's really not fair to me, alright?" "I know, and I'm sorry," she said with a voice that melted Jon's heart. "I stayed because I love you, and I want to be with you. Things get so weird around here sometimes, though, and I shouldn't take it out on you." "Okay, then, good; I'm glad we got that all sorted out. I love you too, Jen, and I'm sorry for overreacting, too. I don't appreciate hearing that you might resent me, or regret being with me, though," he said with finality. A silence hung in the air, as both young lovers gazed hard into the eyes of the other, each knowing the warmth found there. Jon got up to leave, and he motioned for her to follow him. "So what now?" "Dinner at the WOK?" "Sounds good." "You're taking a shower first, right?" "Of course!" "You looked pretty pissed off up there. I hope that wasn't me you were fighting!" "No, but you did inspire me to punch a few walls earlier." "What?" "Just kidding." "Oh well, I'll make it up to you later," she told him, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Jon zoned out for the most brief of moments, and then took off for the shower. Entering his and John's suite, he noticed his suitemate's fervent activity on the Internet. Curious, he announced himself and casually walked up behind his friend. "Any progress?" he asked, as though a supervising officer. "Nothing yet, sir!" replied the Rossmage, catching on to the joke. Jon leaned forward to investigate the latest of the download efforts of his friend. Nothing was queued up at the moment, but John was working on a fanfiction that they both had slaughtered and re-edited that previous week. Jon re-read what he had already contributed to the mutilation, and then had a new addition pointed out to him. Soon, both youths were rolling on the floor. "Well, I've gotta go, man," said Jon at length. "You know, the usual; clean up, get dragged downtown, I feel that leash a-pullin'." "Yeah, well, good luck." "Heh. Luck? I don't need luck," replied Jon with a smirk. "Heh, heh. I'm sooo evil," responded John, mimicking a recent addition to the trashed fanfic. This had quickly become an inside joke between the two. The week passed fairly uneventfully, and without incident. There was another fire alarm on Wednesday, this one somewhat unplanned. It seemed that there was a fire drill at ASMS for every piece of real estate owned by Donald Trump. This time, however, it was merely the work of a Junior who had cooked his popcorn around, oh, say twenty minutes more then he should have. Everyone knew that the hazing laws of the School were about to be broken in the worst kind of way for that Junior. Thursday, however, seemed a bit more fast-paced then usual. Jon plodded down the hallway, in lower spirits then usual. It was yet again another touchy day for Jenny, and she had blown up on him like so much nitroglycerin. It was lunchtime, and he had already had his fill of government food for one day. He decided that the best course of action for him was to indulge in a little anime to wash away the mood. Opening the door to his suitemate's room, Jon noticed his friend tense up and close everything out on his computer. He smirked momentarily, and was tempted to make a lewd comment about what he might have been looking at, but decided against it. By the time John turned around, his face once again bore the glum look he walked in with. John visibly relaxed as he saw who it was who came in. Turning back to the monitor, John posed a question as he reopened his browser window. "What's up, Jon? You look like you've had another fight." "Well, you just hit the nail on the head," his friend returned absently. "She's mad about something again, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why exactly. I made one little comment and she exploded on me." "Hmmm... looks like you'll be in here for a while, eh?" Jon permitted a small smile. "I guess so. Heh. What are you working on right now? You got any new Ranma episodes?" He added, suddenly interested. "No. I couldn't get any more from mIRC. The queue lines were too busy. Right now I'm lookin' for more fanfics." "Always the busy man." "Yup. Hey, here's a new one." He selected the seventh link from the returned websites, causing it to open into a new window. The two watched as the page loaded, then John tapped the close box in the corner. "Not worth the effort," he muttered. "Too many ads and pop- up screens. Let's see what else is there." He scrolled down the list until a new link caught his eye. Curiously, he signaled the download, and his computer was suddenly awash with beautiful renditions of anime characters, most in poses and scenes that he didn't even know were in the anime. "Whoa! Check it out," he called, as a well-worked midi rendition of the Tenchi Muyo opening theme began to play. He glanced over the site once more. "This is really slick." "You can say that again. What's on it?" "I don't know. I only saw the name and decided to check it out. There wasn't any info on the site anyway." He glanced over the page, searching and cataloging all this page was providing. His eyes fell on one link... "Alright! The fanfics." He opened the directory and began scanning the contents as the new page loaded. "Hmmm. I've already gotten most of these..." "Really? I haven't read that one." "Maybe I'll get it to you later." Silence encompassed the room for a long moment. "Isn't that the file you've been trying to get me for the past two weeks?" Jon's tone darkened slightly. "The one you always promise each time I ask about it, but you never remember to actually give it to me?" "Um... I guess so... heh heh..." John muttered nervously, as a flashing icon caught his eye. "Hey! Would'ya look at that! Matt's online! Guess I'll just say hello... heh heh..." He turned his shoulder on Jon and began typing. Jon eyed him for a moment. "Coward..." John tapped at the keyboard for a moment, before deciding to reply. "Alright. I really, *really* promise this time, okay?" "Right..." "Anyway, let's get back to business, alright?" John turned back to the monitor, scanning the fanfiction again. Spotting a crossovers directory, he toggled the link and waited for the site to reload. "Hey, I've found the crossovers." Jon perked at the news. Anxiously, he leaned over his friend's shoulders. "Make sure you check for any Tenchi/Ranma crossovers, okay?" "I've got it covered. I'm not going to skip any fanfic, unless its dark, or I don't like how it ended." "Most people don't read stuff they don't like." "Makes perfect sense when you think about it," John returned dryly. "So, let's see what they got..." The two began sifting through the extensive list of crossover fanfiction, occasionally commenting on one that had been a good read, or that might appear to be one. John was in control, though, and didn't particularly like to read fanfiction with an audience, so the most he ever did was queue one up to download. "Hmmm... what's this?" "What's what?" Jon questioned, his eyes still darting over the titles of a few trailing multi-anime crossovers. "There's a really messed up graphic here in the corner." Jon drew his eyes towards the cursor. Sure enough, there was a badly mangled image fixated apart from the list of fanfic titles. The image seemed to be gyrating, its bits and pieces also cut up and swirling. He couldn't help but wonder why on earth someone would put such a useless and annoying graphic on a webpage. "Maybe it's a link or something." "I suppose so, but they could have used a better image. There isn't any text explaining where this link goes anyway." But John tested the image, and finding that it did indeed lead to another webpage, he opened it in a new window. John's computer thought for a few moments longer before the new webpage began loading. John sighed. "Blech, a survey. I don't ever care to look through any of these," he muttered crossly, scanning briefly over the assortment of prompts and answer boxes. "I like anime stuff and all, but unless it's multimedia, it's pretty much worthless." He began to close the page, when Jon interrupted. "Wait a minute. This isn't a survey. Check out the title." John's brief mental haze of frustration vanished against the onslaught of curiosity. His hand lingered over the mouse as he read the title to the webpage. "'Write Your Own Story'? What the? You can't write a story simply based on a handful of prompts. This sounds like one of those cheezy ad libs, where you just fill in the blanks and get some crappy generic story with a few modifications, according to what you want. Forget it." He moved to close the page again. "Aw, c'mon, John. There isn't anything else better to do, and we've already sifted through the fanfiction. Humor me, at least. I want to see what this page can do." The two shared a glance before John sighed loudly. "Alright. I guess we can check it out. Who knows. Maybe the page can conjure something good after all." An ominous gust of wind blew harshly outdoors, but was overpowered by a sudden round of Chrono Cross mp3s. ----------------------------- The two had been going at it for an hour. Haste became more prudent as time progressed, but John felt that this needed to be finished before class started. He wouldn't be interested in working on it later, and Jon wouldn't be there to give any helpful advice. He was the one who really wanted to try it, after all. However, Jon made it clear that he would have to leave shortly, allowing his buddy to complete the blanks on the webpage. Most were trivial information blanks, such as the time of day, the season, and the like. It was the other blanks that baffled the two. Why would they need to know where we were living at? Why do they care about what kind of people we are? Well, language was important, but this page was outputting in English. Wouldn't the story output in the same language? Both had nothing to say about it. They had been inserting the information in the few remaining blanks when Jon mentioned that he had to go. Leaving his friend to tend to the final details of the fanfic page, he grabbed his stuff and stumbled off to class. The day was not yet over, and there was much to do, not to mention people to avoid. Little did the poor boy know that soon his meager life and everything in it would soon be thrown into utter chaos. ----------------------------- The silvery visage of the World Tree System OS Yggdrasil was suddenly covered with a brilliant light, as thousands of programs began initiating at once. Operators were stunned as they frantically began to search out the problem. There seemed to be no definite single source to the sudden operation of the World Tree to so great a task; what that task was also was a mystery to the inhabitants of heaven. To make matters worse, a fresh batch of bugs began pouring out of the system and demanded their immediate attention. Peorth scrambled to get her chief operators organized as their capacity to curtail the impending disaster shrank away. A huge amount of processing power was circulating through the system. It became so busy it ignored the inquiries of its operators, and when it relented attention to its masters it was sluggish and unresponsive. The fourth Goddess slumped her head in defeat as she realized what had happened from the patterns that were forming. This was all her fault. Kami-sama watched with concern as the system resources meter for the mainframe began to reach a dangerous low. He knew, of course, what was happening. In a typical display of Godly humor, however, he decided to sit back and enjoy the fireworks. If mortals wanted to play with reality, he thought, obviously it was telling him that they wanted to deal with the results. A rare smile crept across God's face as he anticipated the coming events. ----------------------------- The day was over, and the idle Thursday afternoon slowly crawled on. Friday was almost upon them, and there was an unspoken calm and relaxation in the air for all the lowly students of ASMS. Normally Fridays are a source of elation and excitement at a High School; here, all the kids just wanted was a little rest. Jon trudged begrudgingly back to his room, not wanting to depart from his daily routine of the soft, warm glow of anime in a computer screen. Nonetheless, he had to depart, so he did, as mentioned, begrudgingly. Rossmaier was nowhere in sight, and who knew what he was up to. As he approached his room, he could hear the phone ringing. he thought, Jon rushed inside, and lifted the receiver. As one can guess (seeing as how no one else in their right mind calls Jon), it was Jenny. The young man immediately brightened up. Things weren't looking so bad after all. ----------------------------- Elsewhere in the Universe, things were looking very bad for a certain diminutive scientific genius. I mean, there was always the occasional lab mishap that had to be cleaned up, or the ever-so-often Mihoshi incident that would leave her furious, but nothing like this. Washu was at a loss. Even the Time-space generator didn't cause as much trouble as she knew was about to happen. Each avenue she followed ended in failure, and the gauges on her display were reading numbers that shouldn't have existed. She stared at the figures in wonder, grasping at reasons why her equipment and talents would suddenly fail her. As wise as she was, though, she resigned herself to the last final possibility. "This is fate, the work of higher powers," she stated aloud into the blackness. The Ultimate Force was not something to contend with, and the rare few times she had witnessed it invoked, it could bend and break the rules of science altogether. She felt furious, helpless, and a little curious all at the same time. Interrupting her reverie, a sudden flash of light enveloped the labspace, and a swirling eye- shaped void appeared in the center of the main chamber. "Well, nut bunnies," she said to herself, censoring her language since Sasami was in the room. ----------------------------- Jon hung up the phone, satisfied. It wasn't too often she admitted she was wrong. He checked his watch for the date. Yep, it's that time of the month again, ladies and gentlemen. He sighed to himself, and walked out his door. He was too lost in thought about how to deal with his Woman that he completely neglected to notice the shimmering that was beginning to occur in his closet mirror. The heavy wooden door shut with a loud *thump* that reverberated through the hall. *[End of Chapter Two]* A/N: I know, kinda short, but that's the way I'm dividing it, m'kay? At this point, dear reader, it is best to continue to Data JR Ch. 1 if you have not done so already ----------------------------- -----------------------------