Disposable Tools

"Ice cream!"

Wait... what?

"I want more ice cream! Look, it's all gone!"

A tiny girl sitting atop a shipping container swings her legs back and forth, turquoise and candy-red sandal-shoes almost falling from her feet in her fervour, her teal dress wrinkled and folded due to it being some sizes larger than she was. The sleeves alone were enormous enough to envelop her hands entirely. She's holding an empty ice cream tub, thrusting its consumed innards at us and waving her spoon around, her eyebrows warping into the grumpiest frown she can manage.

I thought we were supposed to be looking for someone called Madam Sharpe for some urgent business.

The well-groomed man who Minamoto addressed as Uriel earlier stepped in. He bows to the girl as well, deeper than he did when addressing Minamoto, much to my surprise.

"Fear not, Madam, I have brought Captain Minamoto. I can assure you she will attend to the issue post-haste."

She pouts at him, turning her head away in juvenile disgust.

"Hmph! Took you long enough..."

It was then that I discovered that Madam Sharpe was, in fact, a child.

---

Placated by a fresh, sealed tub of ice cream from the canteen freezer courtesy of Anya, Madam Sharpe became adequately distracted. The elegant gentleman that had come to her aid approaches me and greets me with one of his already-recognisable bows.

"Where are my manners? You must be the new member Captain Minamoto was discussing. My name is Uriel Hawthorne. I am Madam Maeve Sharpe's personal retainer. Pardon me that you were involved in one of the Madam's requests. It's rare that she becomes so insistent regarding such matters."

Forgive me if I don't believe that.

"And what might your name be, Miss?"

"Uh..."

Regardless of how easy the question was to anyone else, answering my name was high on my list of unexpected yet frequent struggles. The fact that I'd had to come to terms with leaving my old life behind within the space of a day made hearing my name aloud again, from my own mouth, that much harder. 

Before I could even finish my sentence, the stinging needle of Minamoto pronouncing me dead earlier that day re-entered my mind. Could I honestly use my birth name, now that the person who had owned it was effectively deceased?

"B-Beryl. Beryl... Just Beryl."

And yet, I couldn't help but say it anyway. It was the name I had been referred to for my entire life, after all, willingly or otherwise. 

However, the heart inside me was no longer that of Beryl McNeal. I'd convinced myself of that. So I couldn't bring myself to mention a surname. But I'd continue to use my first name, even if I considered it more of a label.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Beryl."

Unable to resist his duty, Uriel glanced back at Madam Sharpe, who had already pried the lid off her ice cream and had started digging into it.

"A majority of the other members are occupied with individual missions. Mr Valfrey in particular has been hired for a mission on the mainland. I have no doubt that the Madam is merely listless from the lack of activity and company."

I wondered how many members of Anahata there were if the number of us present was considered small enough to instantly bore a child into obsessing over ice cream. I was discounting Madam Sharpe as a member, of course. It didn't line up that she would be.

"Alright Uriel, leave the introductions to me."

Minamoto's voice lost none of its strength even when carried by the blustering sea breeze.

"As you wish, Captain."

He retreats backwards, ensuring to never face away from me until out of view, bowing all the way. Minamoto's comparatively brusque arrival next to me reactivated the mental defences that had been lowered by Uriel's politeness.

"Well, Beryl, I do believe I promised you a gift, and I'm a woman of my word."

She presents a folded pile of clothing to me. I raise my hands and she sets them into my grasp.

"Once you put on his uniform, you've taken the last step. There's no going back. It marks you as a member of Anahata."

I inspected the pile in front of me. At the top was a white cotton shirt, buttoned and collared. Stroking it with my thumb, the material was snug but breathable. Below that, as I took a peek under the shirt, was a black pair of what I would describe as straight-leg office trousers.

Clearly, my impression of Anahata was blown way out of proportion. Am I going to be an OL from now on? The only other person I had seen wearing something similar to this uniform was Minamoto herself, and there's no way her coat, let alone her cap, was standard issue.

"There's no rush for you to change yet since we don't have any missions to attend to. But if we did, it's a rule that we all wear our uniforms whenever we leave this island. I personally recommend we wear them at all times, but I can be lenient as long as we're on Port Tatsumi."

She detected my curiosity and motioned to her own outfit.

"Some ranks, or even some people themselves, have special exceptions to the uniform, but they all still follow a general style consensus regardless of who we are."

Despite what she was saying, I could sense a lingering smugness about Minamoto. She tipped her cap, as always.

"It should fit just fine when you get around to trying it all on."

Wait...

Did they take my measurements while I was asleep?

---

With some time to reflect, my hair and cheeks were buffeted by a coastal breeze. Its foreign salty scent infiltrated my nostrils and engulfed my skin. I was already starting to forget the familiar stagnant air that pervaded the city streets, that would hang unnoticed and switch between oppressive heat and chilling cold on a whim, but a whim that you could read on your phone before you left the house. The island climate was more fluid, but as a result considerably more unpredictable.

While clutching my uniform like a child would their bag on the first day of school, I saw a familiar face approaching me. Perhaps it was wrong to say it was his face that was familiar to me. It was his steely, lynx-like irises and his callous smile. As he closed in on me, the plush, warm face that those honed features belonged to also became visible to me.

"Nice to meet ya. I know you heard the doc say it earlier, but the name's Berrak."

He swings out a limp hand toward me. I took that as him wanting a handshake. I jittered my own hand toward him, not so eager. Seemingly ignoring my lack of willingness, he clasped my hand, but his grip was firm and mechanical. If I could compare it to anything, it was like I was a tool being held by a craftsman. A purely professional interaction.

"Captain Minamoto, we've got reports of a Leviathan approaching from the West."

"Still? Is it the same one that knocked out the power earlier?"

"Y-Yes, Captain."

"Couldn't the automatic defence systems deal with it?"

"It doesn't seem so."

"Damn it... Where is it now?"

"Only a mile from the west coast and closing in fast."

Minamoto ruminated for as long as you'd expect her to and gestured to us within a matter of seconds.

"You know what this means, everyone. Our target is a Leviathan approaching from the west of an unknown class. Not everyone is present right now, so it'll just have to be us until the others arrive. That includes you, Beryl. We need everyone we have on hand or we risk losing this island."

Thwack

Minamoto struck the ground with her weapon's tough metal pommel, etching an outline into the sky with her pose as she called out to us, but never took her eyes off the coastline. She barked orders without wasting another breath.

"Anya will act as a scout, gathering as much information on the Leviathan before it hits the shore. I'll be the vanguard. Uriel and Maeve, lend me as much support as you can. Berrak, you'll act as backup. I'll send out a summon for Hoshizuna, Saga and Eri as well. But we can't guarantee their arrival any time soon, therefore we can't rely on it either. Stalling would only cause further damage. Beryl, you'll be with Berrak, only intervene if it's necessary."

I squinted out across the horizon to spot the oncoming foe that Minamoto was referring to.

Minamoto's orders were so rapid and concise that their implications took a while to set in. Uriel and Maeve... Uriel said Maeve Sharpe is the Madam...

Did that mean she also has a RepliCor? A child?

Minamoto beckoned us and we all followed, with my legs only moving in reaction to the hurry of everyone else. We arrived at the coastline, a flat, open, concrete overlook with a metal fence and lined with tower viewer-style binoculars.

I didn't have time to spare concern or consideration. The hulking shadow in the distance was enlarging more and more as it approached us.

Anya climbed a nearby ladder and kept a lookout from a building a short distance away from the platform we were all standing on. Manifesting her Pulse, from what I could tell she was using it to analyse the oncoming entity, the green tentacles scanning the sky with cross-hatched streams of light. Minamoto's following question essentially confirmed this.

"Any weak spots, Anya?"

"I'm looking now..."

Its proportions expanded further in my vision to taller than a car. No, a tree. A house. My feet were frozen to the floor. Its true form became apparent to me.

"Hurry it up."

"I'm working as fast as I can."

Minamoto readied her weapon, which I could see was an impressively long Japanese-style curved-blade pole weapon, a naginata. Its shaft was lacquered a deep crimson. She stood as close to the edge of the platform as anyone could manage, with the rest of us spread out behind.

A beast, larger than any creature I had ever laid eyes upon, rose from the water, so vast that the waves lingered on its back before spreading apart and crashing into the shore. My lungs became heavy as I held my breath, clenching my earthly self as it became so fragile that if I breathed I might have collapsed into a thousand microscopic pieces and blown away in the wind.

"Hold fast, everyone. We stop it, right here, right now!"

Beside me, Berrak readied both his pistols. He looked to me, to confirm whether or not I had made my decision, but I was too disconnected from the world to comprehend anything he might have been trying to convey to me.

What on earth was this thing? 

I hadn't really processed it when they mentioned 'Leviathan' earlier, assuming it was code for something, a ship or some other kind of vessel. But no, what I was seeing was a genuine leviathan, an immense sea creature only spoken of in ancient legends. Even partially submerged in the water, it rose to many multiple times my own height. Tearing open its mouth, it unleashed a screech that shook the earth and reverberated in my eardrums. I clutched my ears, fearing they would be shattered if I left them exposed for any longer.

And we're supposed to... defeat it? How? Assuming that everyone here also had a Pulse, would that even be enough?

Anya's voice combatted the shrill of the Leviathan in order to be heard, her coat flapping in the gusts generated from the beast's ascent.

"Its weak point is its metopic suture!"

"In other words?"

"Hit it in the forehead!"

"Damn it... of course it's there..."

The Leviathan took no effort in crumbling the concrete overhang as it started to close in. It towered over Minamoto, its curved, ivory horns alone dwarfed her. But from my perspective, Minamoto was standing higher than the Leviathan could ever reach. 

"We're going to need something to stun it if we want to hit it at this angle. Nobody here has anything effective at range unless we can keep it still for long enough."

"Alright everyone, you heard the doctor. Any bright ideas?"

I hearkened back to every other moment where I had been paralysed by the responsibility involved, but none of them compared to this, so I threw away any chance of using them as reference. I was the least useful reference at times like these. Avoiding or letting someone else handle the problem were not available choices.

So, I asked myself something different.

What would they do in this situation?

The person that saved me. The kind of person that could stand strong in times of crisis. I knew nothing about them, not their name nor their age or favourite food. But I didn't need to. They had shown me more than words could express. Even if I still failed to understand their motives.

That was the only way I could see myself getting out of this. To continue the life that they had granted me by giving up their own to allow me a second chance.

I had to find a way to be like them. I had to reinvent myself.

With that thought permeating my mind, I instinctively held out my hand.

Strips of livid electricity rose from my fingertips. First two, then three, then four, until they frantically multiplied, merging into fluctuating streams that emanated upward. They resembled tassels, curving hypnotically.

Was this... their Pulse?

Further focus caused the ends of the electric tails to converge. Their bodies radiated a gas that tinted the blue with an orchid-like purple, and as they grouped their tips together, an orb formed. This orb expanded, and the strips contended for a spot to connect to it, those that didn't flail out to the sides, jumping with a controlled erraticness. The points where the orb and the tails connected blazed iridescent circles onto its surface, sending waves that swerved down to my glowing fingertips.

I admittedly hadn't paid too much attention in physics class, but I remembered being fascinated by this substance enough to remember what it was, especially the globe containing it that we would all touch that made our hair stand on end.

Plasma.

The fourth fundamental state of matter.

Only Berrak had noticed this change. He communicated just as much as he needed to: a knowing smile.

"Looks like the world better watch out for you, too. You know what to do."

I entered a stance that allowed me to balance myself, leaning back on my right leg as my left leg propped me forward. The area around me was glistening and sparkling manically with energy. I couldn't resist the urge to release it. Using what strength I could muster as it began to overwhelm me, I pointed my palm at the beast and let go. The trails of plasma attached to my hand let loose, and the ball flung itself at its body, fracturing against its scaly frame. Firing bolts of ionised gas, I had missed the target, but I'd certainly stunned it.

Another vigorous billow jetted from the force of my attack striking the Leviathan. We all struggled to keep our balance. Except for Minamoto. She was completely immobile, her feet spread at shoulder width, still squeezing her naginata between her fingers. And she unleashed a wide, sinister smirk.

I heard a whir much like the one I had heard from my own RepliCor. Holding her naginata out to the side, it started to shock with electricity before she lifted it from the ground, spinning it so that she was holding it horizontally, one hand toward the end, the other near the blade, pointing the unbladed tip toward the Leviathan.

She raised it to her cheek, closing one eye, and polishing the other to a burnish. She wasn't going to allow this shot to miss. She couldn't allow it.

"Go to hell. You're not my prey. You're just a blemish. You're nothing.

Now die."

A thin, lustrous beam of light screamed through the sky, emitted from the naginata, piercing the monster directly through its forehead. And the creature halted, the smoke rising from the hole in its skull visible against the blue above. The brilliant sparkle of Minamoto's shot remained for a spell before it fizzled away, as if leaving a permanent mark on the heavens.

But after only a few seconds, the Leviathan resumed. It shook its head in anger, letting out another ear-splitting cry.

"That wasn't enough? Give me a break... I need to prepare another shot."

Anya surveyed the damage and reported back.

"It's essentially dead, it's running purely on instinct now. But can we kill it in time?"

"No need!"

The shout of an uncommon voice arrived from above us. Before anyone had a chance to think, the person it belonged to sped across the roof of the building behind us, leaping into the air. I caught her silhouette for a split second as she was launched toward the Leviathan, only a smudge beside it. Her shadow against the sun was only a fleck, but I could see her holding a bat in her hands.

SMAAASH

And with it, she whacked the beast in the forehead, the splintering smash of wood preluding its hefty collapse onto the bay, sending shockwaves and saltwater careening past our feet. The girl stood atop the freshly defeated creature, slinging the bloodied bat onto her shoulder. I searched her expression for the satisfaction that I assumed there would be after someone had accomplished something so tremendous, something I knew I could never achieve.

But her eyes were sunken and empty. There was no smile or rosy cheeks. Her neck-length, glossy, dishevelled hair swung back and forth in the now tempered winds, but still, nothing changed.

Clink

Maeve became distraught as the head of her ice cream-devouring implement pinged toward the ground, now separate from the serrated edge of a handle it had left behind. It was a speck in the wake of the colossal corpse lurking less than a mile away. But to Maeve, this was a much bigger problem.

"Aww... my spoon broke. Now I have to get a new one."