Editing City Series:Volume6c Chapter2 (section)

===Part 3===

The sword’s blade came into view, revealing it had been blunted. Piping reminiscent of blood vessels ran from the hilt and through the blade, indicating this was a Device designed for beginners.

This was a portable longsword-style Device distributed by the US Army’s Buster forces and its S-41G designation was carved into the blade. Its design had the Phlogiston cartridge built into the hilt.

Hazel stared at the cold blade. The blunted blade.

She had blunted it herself. With a Live-related combat style, you did not always need a sharp blade when using a Device. And when the Device did have a sharp blade…

“It increases the attack power in your Messages.”

She stood up and gripped the S-41G’s hilt with armbands around her hands.

She planted her feet at shoulder width, one a bit in front of the other, and raised the S-41G high.

She swung it without hesitation. The blade sliced through the air, making a nice whooshing sound. The room’s stagnant air was set in motion and the blue Lives of wind appeared in her vision.

She stopped the blade at her feet and then remembered the mirror on the wall.

She took a step over to view herself in the mirror.

She wore a somewhat brownish red uniform. It was the dress uniform for a female AIF soldier. She also had a combat uniform, but…

…''I’ve almost never worn it.

She swung her sword again.

Swinging her center of gravity threatened to overbalance her, which she counteracted by lowering her knees and hips to the front. That action also gave the blade a greater forward reach.

She pulled the stopped blade back once more.

The wind Lives followed the movement. She turned the blade on its side to stir up the azure Lives surrounding it. The wind wrapped around the blade and shook.

At this point, a Tuner would recite an Up to call out to the Lives contacting the Device and transform them into something else. A Buster would instead destroy those Lives and trigger a chain reaction within the Lives in the surrounding space.

But Hazel…

“Hah!”

She pointed the Device upwards with a scooping motion. The wind Lives gently fell away from the vertically-oriented blade. They shattered upon touching her hands.

She could feel the wind on her hand.

“I’m only a Greenhorner – not even a Buster or a Tuner yet – but I can see Lives like a pro.”

She swung the sword again.

She pulled it back again and brought a hand on her hip. She pulled a card from the holder on her belt.

This kind of card would emit light. It would create a glowing orb the size of a thumb for about three minutes, so unless it was being used as a signal in enemy territory, it needed to be placed inside your mess kit or your pocket to regulate its light.

She held the sword with that card still in her hand.

Then she swung it while sweeping her body forward.

She stopped the tip of the blade just before it hit the floor.

She pulled it back quickly but not in a rush.

M. Schrier had taught her how to practice like this. Doing this 500 times in a row was part of the physical exam for joining the AIF, so he had taught her three years ago.

She had failed that exam a few times, but she had eventually gotten the hang of it.

…''My body is a lot more fit now too.

“I just wish it didn’t make my chest look even flatter.”

She took a breath and checked the clock. It was 1:31. She had to leave at 3.

She made another swing.

She upped the speed a little. That helped her transition smoothly from one swing to another.

Sometimes it was easier to move faster. That was a lesson this training had taught her. She had started off too scared to swing it very quickly, so she had had a lot of trouble.

The movements were a lot more stable when fast and it reduced the amount of energy required on her part to keep it up.

It required more strength to move it slowly.

If your arm was tensed with excess strength, it would slow the sword. the trick was to start by moving the hilt with a light, rolling movement of the wrists and then push straight forward once the blade was near vertical.

When pulling it back, you pulled your entire body back. You wanted to slash with your full body, not with the blade.

Anyone hoping to use Lives needed to become one with their Device.

…''I can already read an Octave of nearly 1.2 million, though.

“And they say you only need to see Lives with an Octave of above 160 thousand to become a Buster or a Tuner.”

But she could not manage it.

She could see the Lives. She could read them. But whenever she tried to alter them either through transformation or destruction, she would hesitate and fail.

Thus, she remained a Greenhorner. That was not entirely a bad thing.

…''But…

She removed her right hand from the sword and touched her right eye. That eye was the Messiah prosthetic. She could access a High Organ device using its Aerial Word.

In the mirror, it looked like she had her hand on her eye to wipe away tears.

She sighed.

She lightly shook her head. There was so much she didn’t know, but she could sum up everything – her eye included – with just one phrase.

“Five years ago, I decided I didn’t want to run away. Three years ago, I decided I wanted to do something.”

She hesitated before continuing.

“But what kind of power should I choose once I’m on the battlefield for real?”

Would she be a Tuner or a Buster? She knew why she found it so hard to choose.

“Once I obtain that great power, I will still have it after I no longer need it.”

…''And I don’t know what I want to do after the war is over.

[[Image:City_v06c_099.jpg|thumb]]

She recalled something from 5 years ago.

Before she was arrested, her class had been discussing their future plans. And when her friend had immediately written down her dream…

…''I thought she was too naïve, but I also thought I wanted to be a teacher.

She looked to the floor, where the notebook sat. The map she had drawn in there was related to a war between nations.

…''A war causing so much anxiety it’s causing mass suicides and nightmares.

She placed her hand back on the hilt and faced forward. She saw herself standing there with the sword in the middle position.

She raised it overhead and her reflection did the same.

She swung it. It strayed a bit to the left.

She pulled back and swung again. A little to the right this time.

“That isn’t it.”

…''Which is it?

“A Buster destroys and a Tuner regenerates to assist that destruction.”

The information in that notebook was all about destruction. That was a Buster’s power and its nature gave the war its current form.

…''To fight is to destroy.

Regenerative Tuners could join in as medics, but they primarily acted as frontline support.

…''They restore the destruction done to people. And they assist in the destruction.

“Is there no opposite to destruction?”

No one was around to answer her question, so she simply swung the sword straight down.

She managed it. So she did it again. And again. And again. She set up a rapid repetition before her body could forget how to do it and she settled into that groove.

When she pulled back, she threw the card in her hand.

She immediately struck the card with the S-41G.

With a metallic sound, the white blade sliced through the card. Or so it looked. The card underwent an instantaneous transformation.

It became an orb of light. The orb floated for a bit while growing brighter, but then gravity pulled it down.

She struck it again from above, causing it to shatter and split.

Her eyes did not follow the spray of light. Instead, she focused on the coldly shining back of the blade so she could stop it just before it reached the ground.

It stopped and she let out a deep breath.

Just as that breath fell to the floor, the split orb of light reached the floor and bounced.

The light rotated for just a moment and then suddenly became paper once more.

She stood up and wiped the sweat from her brow. She paused for a moment, unsure whether to pick up the left or right piece of paper first, but then realized she was overthinking this and shut her eyes.

Just then, a great tremor ran through the ship and an alarm sounded.

This was the second alarm, indicating an emergency.

She gasped and readied her sword. Her sword practice had trained her sense of balance, so even as the floor shook below her, she spread her legs to shoulder width and loosened her knees.

“Oh?”

One of her feet ended up stepping on the notebook and the notebook slipped.

“Eh?”

The back of her head slammed into the floor.