Author's Note:
This story is an idea I've had for a very long time, and frankly, I almost fried my brain while working on this build. Seriously, you have no idea how much effort went into developing all of this; sometimes I think I have obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Anyway, I want to specify a few things before you proceed with reading this story:
1) The Incredible Stories of White Knight & The Wacky Stories of Black Warlock are taking place in the same world. So far, they are the only protagonists of Kaleidoscope Adventure who share a universe.
2) The events will take place in San Fransokyo; for those who recognize this name, the events of Big Hero 6 have not happened yet. There is about a semester and a summer vacation left before Hiro Hamada meets Baymax.
XXX
Story Title: Kaleidoscope Adventure (DC/Marvel): The Incredible Stories of White Knight
Plot: Three months ago, an explosion in San Fransokyo destroyed the headquarters of Kurogane Industries. Shortly after, White Knight and Red Queen appeared—two heroes in technologically advanced armor. At the same time, strange phenomena began to manifest in the city, especially mutant monsters, disturbed psychics, and high-tech criminals. Will a pair of heroes be enough to protect the city from this tide of dangers?
XXX
Story Arc: Two Armored Heroes in the City
Episode 1: The Usual Routine of Two Unusual People
Chapter 1: Problems with Rats
Plot: In crowded San Fransokyo, Adrian Lamperouge has just finished his final exams for the first semester at SFIT, and Zelda Strelizia comes to pick him up to take him to work. But a grotesque problem appears on the road, forcing them to change their plans and don their special suits.
XXX
Narrator POV
It is January 20th, the heart of a harsh winter biting the hills of the United States West Coast. Where the old San Francisco once stood—razed to the ground by the catastrophic earthquake of 1906—San Fransokyo pulses today: a titanic metropolis of 10 million inhabitants, born from the ashes of history thanks to engineering genius and the unstoppable migratory wave from Japan. The result is an architectural paradox that defies the laws of logic, a perfect and incredibly sturdy marriage between monumental American urban planning and the most advanced Japanese anti-seismic technologies.
At first glance, the city dazes the eyes. The steep, historic hills have been literally colonized by an endless sea of skyscrapers with crystal mirrors, while swarms of floating neon signs in Kanji characters pierce the winter fog. In the sky, beaten by icy currents, swim gigantic wind turbines shaped like koinobori carp, accumulating kinetic energy with every gust of wind. Dominating the horizon is the imposing Torii Gate Bridge, whose fiery red steel spans fuse the majesty of the Golden Gate with the solemn sacredness of Shinto gateways.
The rhythm of life here is dictated by an omnipresent and frantic technology. Delivery drones dash tirelessly above the old tram tracks, which have been converted into magnetic levitation lines where the cars glide without a sound. In the labyrinthine alleys of the lower city, the dense, salty aroma of ramen soup clashes with the sweet scent of griddle pancakes from the Lucky Cat Café. It is in these shadowy recesses that underage geniuses grit their teeth against the cold while betting piles of microchips in underground bot-fighting tournaments, or get themselves into much worse trouble.
A little further away, the cutting-edge spires of the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology pierce the darkness like beacons of pure scientific evolution, ideally mirroring themselves on the rubble of the Kurogane Tower. That skyscraper was once the beating heart of Kurogane Industries, an international corporation of legendary success and, to say the very least, ambiguous ethics, of which now only a smoking skeleton remains at the center of the map.
San Fransokyo is not just the largest and most advanced city on the West Coast, a giant that stands toe-to-toe even with Metropolis: it is a place where the promises of the future have turned into solid concrete and silicon. But such dizzying progress brings equally deep shadows. Lately, the local underworld has made its own unsettling upgrades, giving rise to high-tech, cutting-edge crime, ready to strike in the metropolis's winter.
XXX
Inside one of the quiet faculty offices at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology (SFIT), the cold precision of science fills the air. Behind a dark mahogany desk sits Professor Grace Granville, who also holds the prestigious position of Vice-Principal of the institute.
Grace is an African-American woman of magnetic elegance: 175 centimeters tall, slender, with short-cut black hair framing her face and intense, dark brown eyes. Despite being 50 years old, her genetics and posture grant her the appearance of a woman in her prime, looking thirty-five, emphasized by an enviable silhouette (B75/W55/H79). She is wearing a perfectly ironed, long-sleeved black shirt and a long, grey pencil skirt that elongates her figure, while the warm reflections of a gold necklace and earrings break up the severity of the dark fabrics. Grace Granville is, in no uncertain terms, a decidedly attractive woman. Fortunately for the university's peace of mind, her legendary austere personality and her icy glare are a more than sufficient deterrent to keep students in line, preventing their fantasies from taking over. Of course, this excludes the few masochists who find a source of further fascination in that very inflexible rigor.
Returning to serious matters, the professor keeps her gaze fixed on the backlit screen of her laboratory computer. Her fingers glide agilely over the keyboard as she verifies the end-of-first-semester exam results for her chairs: Thermodynamics, Mechanics, and Robotics.
Her pupils linger on a select group of names. After all, SFIT is one of the most cutting-edge institutions in the United States, considered equal to—or even greater than, depending on who you ask—the famous MIT in Boston. Every year, thousands of young talents try to cross that threshold, and the few who succeed are excellent minds destined to leave an indelible mark on the global scientific community. But every now and then, among the excellences, beacons of pure genius emerge. Individuals so gifted they could become the Tony Stark, Ted Kord, Reed Richards, or Ray Palmer of their generation.
And Professor Granville, examining that data, can confirm it: this year's harvest is extraordinary. Five exceptional students and two absolute prodigi who promise to rewrite the future.
With a sharp tap on the enter key, Grace accesses the confidential files of the top seven first-year students. As the profiles load on the monitor, the bizarre nicknames given to them by Fred also quirkily pop into her mind, having by now entered the institute's jargon:
- Leiko Tanaka (alias GoGo Tomago): specialized in mechanical engineering and industrial design. Her flagship research focuses on suspended magnetic levitation, aimed at eliminating friction and achieving extreme speed on wheels.
- Aiko Miyazaki (alias Honey Lemon): a pure talent specialized in applied chemistry and advanced materials science.
- Wanjohi Saba Rossouw (alias Wasabi): a geometric mind applied to physics, whose specific area of research and absolute expertise lies in ultra-high-precision laser cutting.
- Tadashi Hamada: specialized in biomedical engineering and healthcare robotics. His ongoing project is as ambitious as it is revolutionary: an inflatable robot designed to act as a large-scale personal healthcare companion.
- Mayer Stony: specialized in robotics engineering, materials engineering, and demolitions. To pass the SFIT admission, she designed and built her iconic remote-controlled otter-shaped mechanical assistants completely on her own, known to everyone as Meeboos or Robotters.
In front of that screen, Professor Granville's lips curl slightly upward. A small, rare smile ripples across her normally stoic face. Having dedicated her entire life to teaching, Grace cannot help but feel a deep, genuine spark of pride in front of such brilliant minds waiting only to be shaped by her rigor.
With the press of a single key, the computer interface changes. The flat screen fades to make room for a holographic projector that illuminates the Vice-Principal's face with a pale blue light. The profiles of the two genuine rough diamonds of that year thus appear.
The first file belongs to Mary-Ann Guillotin, known across the classrooms by the singular alias of Sandrone. The girl boasts an encyclopedic range of expertise: Phenomenon Analysis, Mathematical Sciences, Mechanical Engineering, and Advanced Robotics. The project with which she literally crushed the competition for SFIT admission is a masterpiece of pure and brutal mechanical engineering. Sandrone designed a three-meter-tall colossus for heavy industry capable of lifting several tons, whose entire operation completely excludes any electronic circuits: instead, it relies on an internal system of over a billion millimetric gears and pistons. A monumental Swiss clock made of steel. Mary-Ann's case is definitively special: she is the daughter of Alain Guillotin, the world-renowned French scientist who recently passed away. The fact that such a highly acclaimed mind chose the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, turning down the most prestigious universities across the globe, is a massive point of pride for the campus.
Right after, the hologram shifts to the next profile, and Grace's expression becomes more attentive. Adrian Lamperouge, nicknamed "Winter Prince" by his classmates. His specializations touch upon Advanced Materials Engineering, Biomedical Engineering, Process Chemistry, and Fluid Dynamics.
Grace Granville opens the detailed file of his admission project. In the center of the office, the three-dimensional model of a complex, tight-fitting suit begins to rotate, sectioned into multiple layers to display its internal secrets: the Stillsuit. It is a marvel of bio-engineering and extreme miniaturization, designed for survival in absolute aridity. The concept behind it is as ruthless as it is brilliant: treating the human body not as a constant consumer of resources, but as a closed-loop water system. Through a complex "micro-sandwich" of flexible osmotic membranes and graphene-based micro-filters, the suit captures every single drop of sweat, breath moisture, and even the wearer's liquid and solid bodily waste. Everything is purified in real time, converting waste into perfectly drinkable water free of excess salts.
But the true stroke of genius that astounded the exam board lies in the power system. Adrian managed to exclude any heavy or bulky batteries. Beneath the heels and inside the suit's joints, he integrated tiny mechanical kinetic-recovery bellows: the very action of walking generates the hydraulic pressure required to push fluids through the osmotic filters, pumping the purified water directly to the collar straws.
The professor scrolls through the student's personal notes, and her eyebrows contract slightly. Unlike Mary-Ann, who carries a heavy and high-class surname, Adrian Lamperouge seems to have materialized out of thin air. His entire academic past is summarized in a simple GED, flanked by immigration documents from Western Europe with a student visa and the registration of a large grey cat as an emotional support animal.
Granville has always found it deeply anomalous that such an intellect—capable of conceiving a project that has already attracted the claws of NASA and WayneTech—had no prior academic recognition. Only a high school equivalency exam passed shortly before registering for the annual SFIT convention. During the first few weeks, Grace had even entertained the suspicion that Adrian had stolen the project from someone else. Yet, not only did a plagiarism accusation never arrive, but the professor was able to witness the boy's terrifying potential firsthand. If Mary-Ann is the one who always raises her hand first, with the answer constantly ready on her lips, Adrian is the one who finishes tests before everyone else and delivers the most complex projects the following morning.
The boy's report card is simply flawless: maximum grades in every subject, a 100% success average. The only one hounding him is Mary-Ann herself, holding at a still extraordinary 95%. This five-percent gap has given rise to a fierce and one-sided rivalry, by now famous throughout the university: Sandrone sees a wall to be torn down in him, while he does not even seem to notice her existence.
In her long career, the Vice-Principal has seen hundreds of gifted students, geniuses, and even super-geniuses pass through—one of her former students even won a Nobel Prize—but that exact 100% in every single test reeked of anomalies. Several suspicious faculty members forced him to retake tests right before their eyes, or handed him exams reserved for specialized graduate years. The result? Adrian always finished early, scoring top marks.
Already by the end of the first month, Grace Granville had understood that Mary-Ann and Adrian would be the two most talented students she had ever crossed paths with in twenty years of teaching. A certainty that pushed her to monitor them with extreme care, given also the polar opposite nature of their personalities.
Mary-Ann faces academic life like a war to be won to reaffirm her superiority. Her strong authority and her sharp charisma manage to intimidate or subjugate almost all of her classmates, and even some faculty colleagues feel a certain reticence to argue with her. Adrian, on the contrary, is a true block of ice. Extremely attractive—an indisputable truth for most of the female students and for more than a few male students—he moves through the corridors wrapped in a perennial veil of boredom and detachment. If the teachers did not call on him directly, he would spend the lectures in dead silence, with one eye on the blackboard and the other on his notebook, which he strictly changes every week, or intent on petting the large grey cat curled up on his lap.
That total isolation has worried Grace more than once, to the point of forcing her to introduce mandatory group projects just to push him to interact. In a way that many still deem an inexplicable mystery, Adrian ended up forming a singular friendship with Fred, the school's eccentric mascot, who dragged him into his historic group of friends.
Despite this small step forward, Professor Granville remains firmly convinced that behind Adrian Lamperouge's bored gaze hides a much deeper and potentially dangerous abyss. But she has decided not to dig any further. After all, in a city like San Fransokyo, everyone guards their own secrets.
Sighing slightly, Grace closes the two youngsters' files. The screen returns to reflecting her stoic face. The work is not yet finished, and the Vice-Principal knows very well that quite some time will pass before she can turn off the lights of her office.
XXX
In San Fransokyo, winter never presents itself with frost or snowfall, but manifests with its historical face: a mild climate, dominated by incessant rains and a thick, impenetrable fog that rises from the ocean and blankets the skyscrapers. That morning, the city was recovering from a violent downpour that had started the previous evening and lasted until late afternoon, leaving the asphalt glossy and the gutters saturated with water.
Somewhere in the center of the metropolis, the force of the excess water dislodged a small object that had been stuck on the roof of a building for months. A mysterious crystalline fragment, with veins of an electric blue and a pulsing red, slid off the ledge and plummeted into the void. It ended its descent at the bottom of a dead-end alley in the lower city, bouncing with a metallic and crystalline chime near a trash can, right next to the back exit of a Chinese restaurant.
That sharp sound, combined with the unnatural glow that the object began to emanate in the mud, immediately attracted the pests that have followed humanity in the shadows for centuries: rats.
A handful of small rodents emerged from the trash bags, abandoning the greasy remains of Chinese food. Their damp little snouts stretched toward the bi-colored light, approaching that unknown energy source with extreme caution...
SQUEAK!
A shrill, guttural cry pierced the dim light of the alley. Out of the deepest darkness emerged a massive rat, its fur black, bristly, and slimy, and its eyes of a blood-red hue. Its bulk and aggressive appearance instantly scattered the smaller mice, who fled terrified into the drainage channels. The large rodent approached the crystal, sniffing the air, opened its grime-crusted jaws, and swallowed it in a single gulp.
An instant later, the beast's body was shot through by a violent discharge of blue and red lightning bolts. The exotic energy enclosed within the fragment instantly bound to its DNA, triggering a terrifyingly aggressive mutation. The rat's bones began to creak and elongate, its flesh to expand beneath its fur, and its muscles to swell unnaturally.
Right at that second, the back door of the restaurant creaked open. An employee of the establishment stepped out into the alley, dragging a heavy black bag filled with lunch leftovers. But at the sight of that abomination—a rat that was literally doubling its size, wrapped in blue and red electrical arcs—the man lost his grip. The bag fell to the ground, splitting open, while the worker's bored and tired expression shattered, replaced by pure and absolute terror.
"Haaaaaa!"
The man's desperate scream echoed between the brick walls of the alley, dying down inside the premises. The Chinese restaurant of San Fransokyo had just inherited a new, gigantic, and lethal infestation problem.
XXX
Outside the SFIT campus, two young adults who seem to come from completely different worlds are chatting with each other, braving the damp winter mist.
On the left is Fred: 21 years old, 182 centimeters tall, with a chronically disheveled appearance. His posture is slouched, his build lean, and his overall air sloppy, framed by ash-blond hair and blue eyes. His casual attire is a hymn to laid-back living: a white long-sleeved undershirt beneath a light red T-shirt sporting a print of a Japanese kaiju monster, dark olive-green cargo shorts, and a pair of worn-out white sneakers with dark green laces. Topping it all off, a teal beanie with a monster's face and a small pendant around his neck, also inspired by the Kentucky kaijus.
Standing on the right is Adrian Lamperouge, also known as the "Winter Prince." A peer of Fred, Adrian towers at 190 centimeters tall, showcasing a slender, extremely lean, and supple build, moved by an innate grace. His long, snow-white hair is carefully gathered into a ponytail, while his extraordinarily pale skin makes his two brilliant, vibrant green eyes stand out. His wardrobe is the antithesis of Fred's: he wears an elegant suit broken up by a white belt to which a wallet chain is attached, a long, custom-tailored black overcoat, a matching black fedora, polished shoes, and dark gloves. Adrian is a true Bishōnen, a boy of such magnetic and aristocratic attractiveness that female students easily mistake him for a prince of old times or a charming vampire.
Curled up between Adrian's feet is Garfield, a huge black cat that resembles a Eurasian lynx in every way. The feline possesses extremely thick, soft fur and stares at the surrounding world with intense, hypnotic blue eyes.
"Prince, tonight GoGo, Honey, Wasabi, Tadashi, and I are going out to celebrate the end of the first semester. You should really come with us," Fred exclaims, waving his hands, eager to include his more introverted friend in their plans.
"Fred, I have things to do with Zelda," Adrian replies. Despite his stoic and detached tone, his voice possesses a deep and pleasant, almost hypnotic timber.
"Well, bring your girlfriend, Zero-Two, along too! The fact that she isn't a genius student doesn't matter to anyone... I mean, I'm no genius either," Fred fires back with his usual the-more-the-merrier philosophy.
"Zelda is not my girlfriend. She is my roommate, my business partner, and, occasionally, my lab assistant," Adrian clarifies calmly, adjusting his black gloves, demanding that the correct labels be used.
Fred adopts an enlightened expression, snapping his fingers. "Got it! Basically, you're Jonny Lee Miller playing Sherlock Holmes, and she is Lucy Liu in the role of Dr. Joan Watson!"
Adrian raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised beneath the brim of his fedora. "Nice to know that every now and then you watch some good TV series."
"Hey, when your new best friend is a part-time private investigator, watching a crime show is the bare minimum! Even though I vastly prefer superheroes and sci-fi, I have to admit that investigations have their charm... especially in the right context," Fred says, spreading his arms.
Adrian studies him for a moment. "Fred, I don't know if it's because of your absolute honesty or simply because you're an idiot who doesn't pretend to be a genius like so many others in here, but... I like you." Saying this, he takes a step forward and lands a friendly fist on the nerd's shoulder.
"I like you too, Prince!" Fred replies with a radiant smile, promptly returning the bump on the shoulder. Then, returning to the charge, he presses on: "So, are you coming to the group outing?"
"I'll talk to Zelda," Adrian concedes, yielding in part to his friend's enthusiasm. "If she agrees and we finish our work earlier than expected, we might drop by."
"Awesome!" Fred exclaims, performing a small leap with his arms stretched toward San Fransokyo's grey sky.
"You definitely have too much energy," Adrian comments, looking at him with a hint of suppressed amusement.
"Listen, if by any chance you have a case that leads you to investigate some shady corporation or if there are radioactive waste products involved, call me right away!" Fred urges, his eyes shining with hope. "I've always had a huge urge to turn into a Kaiju or develop superpowers."
Adrian tilts his head, studying the institute's mascot. "I'm curious... did you choose to become the SFIT Mascot just because you hope to get caught up in some catastrophic lab accident and become a superhero?"
Fred assumes a sly, mysterious expression. "That, my dear Prince, is just one of the many and top-secret reasons why I took that job."
"Do you have any other burning information to consider, then?" Adrian asks, playing along while abstractly petting Garfield with the tip of his shoe.
"As the number one superhero fan on the West Coast, I always keep myself updated," Fred declares proudly. If superheroes and supervillains were an exam subject, he would score a 100% just as much as Adrian. "Apparently, a brand-new vigilante has appeared over the last few days in a city called Nightfall. However, she doesn't have an official name on the forums yet."
Before Adrian can express an opinion on the news, a sharp call breaks the campus atmosphere.
"Darling! Hurry up, I'm getting tired of waiting for you!" exclaims a firm, female voice coming from the parking area not far away.
Fred gives a knowing, friendly elbow nudge to Adrian's ribs. "The Mystery Machine calls, and your Daphne is waiting for you."
Adrian sighs, looking toward the cars. "The comparison isn't all that absurd, I have to grant you that."
"Look, even if my name is Fred, I'd have no problem being the Shaggy to your Mystery Incorporated," the mascot offers, enthusiastic about a job that would bring excitement to his life.
"We are not the Scooby-Doo Gang, Fred. We are Insight Investigations," Adrian corrects him, intent on maintaining a shred of professionalism.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The insistent horn honks coming from the van confirm that Zelda has officially run out of patience.
"See you when I see you, Fred," Adrian cuts it short. He turns fluidly, his long black coat lifting slightly in the damp wind, and heads toward the parking lot. Garfield, faithful as a shadow, sets off again, raising his thick tail and following his master's steps.
In the institute's parking lot stands a van with unmistakable lines, whose red and white bodywork closely recalls an old 1970 Dodge A100; for those who don't know, this is the car model used for Scooby-Doo's Mystery Machine. The brand name, Mystery Machine, stands out on the sides, but the massive modifications made have transformed it into a cutting-edge hybrid: shocking pink lightning bolts decorate the doors, and a myriad of LED inserts makes it ready to turn into a neon disco as soon as darkness falls.
Leaning against the side of what they call the Insight Machine is Zelda Strelizia, though by now, to everyone, she is simply Zero-Two.
Adrian's partner is a 20-year-old girl, 175 centimeters tall, with a very fair complexion that contrasts with an athletic, sinuous, and slender physique (B83/W61/H92). A cascade of long pink hair slips down past her waist, interrupted only by a straight fringe that grazes her eyebrows. Her eyes, of a penetrating turquoise, are surrounded by a thin circling around the pupils and by characteristic red-pink marks on the canthi that accentuate her magnetic gaze. Her style is a rebellious scratch: black high-heeled boots, tight jeans, a short-cut white T-shirt that leaves her belly button exposed, and a fiery red motorcycle jacket. On top of her head, amidst her hair, she wears two conspicuous black bows.
"Darling, hurry up! You're late, Morrison scored us a little job," the girl declares, making an impatient gesture toward the cabin.
"I'm not late. You came early and you're getting tired of waiting, which is different," Adrian counters with his usual phlegm. He opens the passenger door and makes room for Garfield, who leaps inside with the heavy grace of a lynx.
Zero-Two snorts loudly. She climbs into the driver's seat and, instead of inserting an ignition key, she presses her thumb against a smooth, backlit surface on the dashboard. Upon biometric recognition, the engine starts with a powerful, modified roar.
"Don't forget your seatbelt," Adrian reminds her, buckling his own while Garfield purrs slyly on his lap.
Zero-Two rolls her eyes with annoyance, but she grabs the strap, clicks it, and releases the handbrake. The Insight Machine pulls out of the parking space with a brutal rev of the engine, narrowly missing Mary-Ann Guillotin's eye-catching car—a design masterpiece that looks like it just came out of a Steampunk novel.
"I definitely made a mistake in getting you that driver's license," Adrian comments, calmly continuing to pet his black cat's head.
"Today is my turn at the wheel, Darling!" she exclaims, slamming the brakes at the very last second in front of a traffic light that has just turned red.
"And this weekend I'll have to completely overhaul the braking system," Adrian notes. His voice is tired and bored, by now entirely used to his partner's rally-like driving style.
Taking advantage of the forced stop, Zero-Two lunges sideways. She brings her face close to Adrian's and, with a lightning-fast movement, gives him a lick on the cheek.
"You're bitter today!" she exclaims, turning to look ahead with a sly smile.
"And your manners have remained exactly the same as always," the boy fires back, pulling out a handkerchief to clean his face. The pink-haired woman possesses countless talents, but table etiquette and a sense of order are not on her list of virtues at all.
As soon as the light turns green, the girl pushes the accelerator to the floor, indulging her visceral obsession for speed.
"You forgot to activate the blackout filters," Adrian observes, extending a black glove to press a button on the dashboard. In a microsecond, the Insight Machine's windows polarize, becoming completely opaque from the outside. No one from the outside can spy on the interior of the cabin anymore.
"That's why you kept your hat on, kitty," Zero-Two giggles, changing his nickname.
Adrian takes off his fedora, revealing two pure white cat ears on top of his head, which instantly move and twitch in sync with his emotions.
"Cats are definitely more graceful than Oni," he replies. With a feline snap, he grabs one of Zelda's black bows and pulls it off. Hidden beneath the fabric are two small, shiny, and sharp red horns.
"Put it back or I'll throw you out the window," Zero-Two growls, shifting her expression into a serious warning: she hates having her horns uncovered or exposed to looks.
"We have the exact same physical parameters, Zelda. Both of us can lift a motorcycle with our bare hands," Adrian reminds her, aware that in terms of pure brute strength, Insight Investigations operates on a plane of absolute equality.
"I can do it with one hand only," she points out, flashing an arrogant and victorious smile, convinced she still has a margin of superiority.
"But I'm faster than you. In a straight sprint, I outpace you tenfold," the Ice Prince counters.
"I heal faster, though. Any injury I get vanishes on its own within a few minutes or at most a few hours," Zero-Two insists, determined not to lose the point, strong in her unique regenerative factor.
"I am immortal," Adrian cuts it short. A definitive capability, even if arguably much less convenient than his companion's accelerated healing.
Zelda bursts into laughter, a crystalline and provocative laugh. "Yeah, too bad you've already died seven times in just three months, and I haven't died once in twenty years. Your immortality makes you damn sloppy, Darling."
Adrian takes the hit in silence, preferring to focus his attention on Garfield.
Amused by her own victory, Zero-Two makes the mistake of taking her eyes off the road again, leaning toward him to give him another affectionate lick on the cheek. "See? Now you're spicy!"
The moment of triumph lasts a blink of an eye. Looking away costs her dearly.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
A huge SUV coming from the side intersection ran the right of way and was about to crash perpendicularly into the door of the Insight Machine. The impact was inevitable.
"Watch the road!" Adrian exclaimed.
In an instant, his green irises flared with a vivid and terrifying light. The boy made a sharp, violent gesture with his right hand. An invisible, titanic force, resembling a gigantic immaterial hand, materialized in mid-air: the opposing SUV was abruptly stopped just one meter away from their side panel, its wheels screeching on the wet asphalt while the kinetic energy was dissipated into nothingness. The accident was averted.
"Thanks, Darling!" Zero-Two exclaimed with a big smile. Without losing a second, she pressed her foot on the gas again and shot away, leaving the shocked driver behind, determined not to stay there to fill out forms or give explanations to the police.
"You're only alive thanks to me," Adrian commented, as the light in his eyes faded and he went back to adjusting the fedora on his head. His high intellect and psionic gifts had saved them both a lot of trouble.
"Debatable," she snorted, keeping her grip on the steering wheel.
"You're crazy," Adrian stated without hesitation.
"And you chose to bind yourself to me, so you're much crazier than I am," Zero-Two concluded, proud to have had the last word in their eternal and dangerous game.
"Remind me what kind of assignment Morrison passed our way this time," Adrian asked, running a hand over his forehead. Although the academic exams at SFIT were little more than a trivial pastime for him, they still required a fraction of his attention, and the boy struggled to focus on too many stimuli at once.
"I sent a copy of the file directly to your email. Use that futuristic gadget of yours to open it," Zero-Two replied. She kept her eyes glued to the wet asphalt, determined not to tempt fate a second time after the close call at the intersection.
"I've told you a thousand times, Zelda. It's called a Focus," Adrian corrected her with his usual phlegm.
He pushed up the left sleeve of his black coat, revealing a futuristic metallic bracelet, colored in glossy white and green. He tapped a millimetric section of the metal, and the device released with a soft pneumatic click. The Focus was a small silver marvel in a triangular shape, designed for augmented reality: Adrian applied it to his right temple, near the ear, where the internal magnet anchored it firmly to his skin. In the blink of an eye, the device interfaced directly with his neural endings and his visual system.
In front of his eyes, a custom, semi-transparent HUD materialized, floating in the air like the screen of a latest-generation smartphone. Adrian moved his fingers through the empty space, interacting with the neural interface: a screen split into two pages, looking like an open book, appeared in mid-air, displaying all the details of the case.
"Here's one of the reasons why I prescribed myself not to have one. You know you look like a mime? Without that visual interface in front of you, you're just groping the air," Zero-Two commented, throwing him a sidelong glance between one turn and the next.
"One day I will sell a simplified, commercial version of this device to the entire planet, and no one will notice it anymore," Adrian replied, continuing to flip through the digital pages that only he could see.
"I prefer to avoid connecting my brain to a machine, as far as it is possible for me," Zero-Two countered. A shadow of seriousness darkened her turquoise gaze, evoking old and unpleasant laboratory experiences that she preferred not to unearth.
"So, today's job is nothing too complex," Adrian summarized, scrolling through the lines of text. "A wealthy scion of the city went on a short vacation to Los Angeles. When he returned, his collectible car had vanished from the secured garage. He wants it back at all costs and is willing to shell out a substantial amount."
For Insight Investigations, Morrison was the perfect middleman. That graying informant secured them assignments of all kinds: from trivial errands that required discretion and velvet gloves, to matters so thorny that they required... well, a burning chainsaw, metaphorically speaking.
"Excellent. Just enough to keep our house afloat," Zero-Two commented with a funny little smile, as if she had just delivered a memorable punchline.
"You should really work on your comedic timing, Zelda. No one would get the spirit of that sentence unless they knew that we literally live aboard a boat," Adrian commented. Super-genius intellect, but a sense of humor completely missing in action.
"At least I have a shred of humor," the girl defended herself, accelerating as soon as the straight road stretched out ahead of them.
"Tecna, are you online? I could use a hand," Adrian uttered, addressing the empty space of the cabin.
On the van's central monitor, the dashboard data vanished to make room for the avatar of Tecna, the Artificial Intelligence created by Adrian to support them in every investigation. The two-dimensional hologram showed a girl with the appearance of an eighteen-year-old, 176 centimeters tall and endowed with an extraordinarily slender and stylized build, with very long and thin legs (B78/W58/H82). She sported an extremely short, asymmetrical bob cut, completed by a super-vibrant fuchsia-magenta geometric fringe that made her large teal eyes stand out. She wore a lilac V-neck vest over a lime-colored t-shirt, dark purple cargo pants, and matching sneakers.
"Good morning, Knight. Good morning, Princess," Tecna greeted from the screen, performing a theatrical and patently ironic bow, loving to tease her creators with those titles.
"Darling, you really have bizarre tastes when it comes to naming women," Zero-Two interjected, shaking her head. "To me, you gave the name of a video game princess, and your AI is named after a fairy from an old children's cartoon."
"It's called having pop culture and good taste. Besides, when we were assembling our new civil identities, you were the one who told me, 'I don't care what they call me, choose whatever you like.' I'm just honoring the terms," Adrian defended himself with absolute stoicism.
"Yes, but you went from code AMa-10.2 to Adrian Lamperouge. I went from 9'℩ — Nine Iota — to Zelda Strelizia. There's a big difference in style, admit it," she replied, convinced she had received the short end of the stick.
"Would you have preferred if I registered you at the civil registry as Princess Peach, Barbie... or maybe Tarzan?" Adrian asked. All encyclopedic notions that he had absorbed during Fred's long, grueling nerd monologues at the campus.
Zero-Two arched an eyebrow, puzzled. "And who would Tarzan be?"
"Someone who shares exactly your same identical level of table manners," he replied, without moving a single facial muscle.
From the dashboard speaker, Tecna's digital laughter interrupted the bickering. "Are you playing the old married couple again? It's an adorable pastime, I must admit."
"We are not a couple!" Adrian and Zero-Two declared in unison, turning toward the screen with the exact same vexed expression.
"Received, received," the AI smiled, raising her virtual hands. "May I know why you woke me up? I was conducting an interesting independent reconnaissance on the net to track down a local cyber-criminal."
"I need you to pause the hunt and launch an archival search for a luxury car thief," Adrian instructed her, moving his fingers across the HUD to transfer the data to the van's monitor. "I want you to connect to every single security camera in San Fransokyo. Focus on the main objective: we are looking for a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO. Vehicle recovery takes absolute priority over capturing the target."
Tecna winked from the screen, and her virtual fingers began to dance across an invisible keyboard. "It'll be a walk in the park, Knight. I'll update you guys as soon as the red beauty enters my field of vision."
XXX
Exactly five minutes later, Tecna's digital voice broke the silence of the cabin with a ringing note. "Knight, Princess, I have intercepted an anomaly."
"The Ferrari's location?" Adrian asked, hoping for a lightning-fast resolution that would allow him to return to his studies soon.
"Negative. Apparently, a renowned Chinese restaurant in the city center has just developed a very severe infestation problem. There is a giant rat causing panic," the AI declared. The seriousness of her tone contrasted comically with the absurdity of the news.
Adrian lifted Garfield off his lap, gently moving him to the passenger seat. "It looks like Insight Investigations needs to take a detour."
"And that it's time for Red Queen and White Knight to clock in," Zero-Two added, as her lips curled into an adrenaline-fueled smile. The girl let go of the steering wheel and unbuckled her seatbelt with a sharp click. "Tecna, the controls are yours. Take us there."
"Received. Transition to autonomous driving completed," the AI promptly replied. For a quantum intellect like hers, piloting the vehicle through traffic while simultaneously managing dozens of other tasks was little more than the blink of an eye. "I've already breached the city network, modified the traffic light synchronization, and plotted the fastest route. Cloaking protocol active."
On the outside, the Insight Machine's bodywork vanished from sight, swallowed by a camouflage technology that projected the background images onto the opposite side of the van. Surveillance cameras in the area began to suffer sudden digital glitches or frame the wrong angles just as the vehicle passed by, while traffic lights along the route turned red to block civilian traffic, clearing the road for the invisible vehicle.
Meanwhile, Zero-Two pulled a lever on the side of her seat, causing it to recline until it was perfectly horizontal. With the feline agility that characterized her, she crawled toward the rear compartment of the van, leaped to her feet, and pulled off her motorcycle jacket, throwing it to the floor.
"I'll remind you that we have a pocket dimension specifically designed to store our civilian clothes," Adrian commented, watching her from the rearview mirror as the girl pulled off her T-shirt, remaining in her bra.
"I prefer not to clog our limited storage slots with useless rags," she retorted. With two sharp, precise kicks, she sent her boots flying into the back of the van. "And besides, I prefer to wear the undersuit directly on bare skin. It gives me a feeling of greater freedom."
Without the slightest hesitation, Zero-Two stripped out of her jeans, leaving her in only her underwear and the futuristic red-and-white metallic bracelet buckled to her right wrist.
"I'm starting to suspect you have a latent exhibitionist streak," Adrian commented. He also activated his seat lever to join her in the back of the cabin.
"Hey, shouldn't you look away out of politeness?" she asked in a provocative tone, unhooking her bra right before his eyes.
"And for what reason? You walk around the house practically naked anyway. When I'm lucky, you wear a swimsuit or your underwear," Adrian replied, completely immune to his partner's brazen charm.
By way of response, Zelda threw her underwear at his face with a knowing laugh. Adrian let out a long sigh, tossing the garments aside, while the girl tapped the surface of her bracelet. In a microsecond, a stream of polymer particles expanded over her body, coating it with a tight-fitting fiery red suit, crisscrossed by reflective white lines.
Adrian made the same gesture on his own device, without needing to undress: his civilian clothes were converted into data and stored in the system, instantly replaced by a white undersuit with emerald green sections.
"See? One second and it's done. I consider my method definitively more practical and decent," the boy pointed out, adjusting his suit collar.
"Don't play the know-it-all with me, kitty," Zero-Two shot back, planting her hands on her hips as if she hadn't just improvised a striptease in the middle of the van.
Adrian ignored the provocation, sliding his fingers across a holographic screen that had just appeared before him, showing various tactical weapon modules. "Which equipment configuration should I adopt for this outing? White Rhodes, Dire Avenger, Striking Scorpion, Crimson Hunter, Warp Spider, or Shadow Spectre?"
"White Rhodes is absolutely my favorite," Zero-Two answered without hesitation, pointing to the floating icon.
"Red Queen, White Knight, I apologize for interrupting your preparations, but arrival at the destination is estimated in less than sixty seconds," announced Tecna's voice from the rear speakers.
"Ready to pull out the claws, Kat-Knight?" Zero-Two asked, raising her right arm and clenching her fist.
"Only if you do the same," Adrian replied, mimicking her gesture and lining up his wrist with his companion's.
"For glory and fun," she recited, with her turquoise eyes shining with excitement.
"For justice and vengeance," he concluded, with his usual, cold solemnity.
The two slammed their respective bracelets together with a sharp strike. The impact of the devices triggered a chain reaction: the rear compartment of the van was hit by two blinding flashes of ashen light—one of a crimson red and the other of a pure white—which completely enveloped their figures.
To be continued...
XXX
Author's Note:
I've finally managed to publish this idea before losing either my mind or my inspiration.
I don't want to give any spoilers, but my drive for perfection compels me to provide an explanation regarding my build.
I used Alternate Setting Adaptation on the following Items:
- Krait Mk II (Elite Dangerous)
- Fortress of Solitude (DC Comics)
- Valkyrie Equipment (Honkai Impact 3rd) / Infinite Stratos (Infinite Stratos)
To adapt them to the concept of alien technology from the Predecessors.
Here are the details:
[Alternate Setting Adaptation:
You may choose to "adapt" any one of your Items into a version of itself created within another setting. They will function largely the same, or at least as close as would be possible within the new setting, but the core mechanics of how they work will be modified to fit the tech tree and metaphysical/supernatural systems of the new setting. This is great if you want to streamline your potential power systems, or if you want to obtain an Item but don't want to deal with the implications of using something from a specific setting like Warhammer 40k or the SCP Foundation.
For example, you could have a D&D Magic Item manifest its effects via Ethernano Magic instead of Weave Magic by adapting it to Fairy Tail. You could turn DxD's Excalibur into a Mystic Code or a Noble Phantasm by adapting it to a version of itself forged within the Nasuverse—though it wouldn't suddenly become the True Excalibur, the Last Phantasm. You could transform the Golden Elixir and its Cultivation power into a slurry of nanomachines that uses hyper-technology to slowly refine your body and awaken psychic powers without a theoretical upper limit by adapting it from "Generic Xianxia" to "Generic Space Opera." Or, perhaps your Citadel doesn't run on eezo technology, but rather on magitech, and all the biotics present on the station are instead magic adepts. The possibilities are endless.
Note: Regardless of everything, the overall baseline power level of your Items will remain roughly the same after the Adaptation. However, this can alter the potential growth ceiling possible for some Items if they are set upon a higher scale. Of course, this can also have the opposite effect, so choose your Adaptations carefully.]
XXX
CYOA Interactive build for the MC (■■■, AMa-10, Adrian Lamperouge, alias White Knight)
**Meta**
You, CYOA, Shards, what are those Shards you speak of?
**Difficulty**
Standard, Higher (Tier 9)
**Scenario & Setting**
AU Alternate Earth, Second Act (Peaceful), Just Better, Anime Logic, A Brighter World [Even Greater], Horror Bet, Supernatural Files, No More Planned Obsolescence, Second Trigger, Benign, Powers for Dummies [Curiosity Drive], Nanometers, Son!, Modern Aether (Type-Moon), Comic Book Pretty, VFX On [It's a Beautiful World We Have], Huh, isn't that... [Colorful Crowd, Shard Variant, Native Variant], Expy Galore x 3, Additional Genre x 1, DC Animated Universe, Fate/Stay Night, Marvel Universe 8096, Main Antagonist's Face
**Character**
Drop-In
**Skills**
Thousand Styles Master [Martial Improvisation Art], Survival, Ambidextrous, Spatial Awareness, Astronaut Training [Perfect Circadian Rhythm], A GED [Rebuild Civilization], Internal Clock, Resourcefulness, Weapon Improvisation, Armor Improvisation, Construction
**Perks**
Blank, Mental Barrier, Trumped the Trump, Invictus, Well-Adjusted, Cover Story, 'Plot' Armor, Manton Protected, Ripple Effect Proof Memory [Ripple Effect Proof Body], Accentuate the Positive, Eliminate the Negative, Comic Book Physics, Peaceful Life, World Clean, Serendipitous Luck, Inheritable, Heir to the Throne, I Don't Get It [I Get It Now... But Not Really...?], Foreigner, Continuity Of Existence, Natural, Loyalty Insurance
**Drawbacks**
Conscious Geas x 1, Minor Compulsion x 1, Rapunzel, Rapunzel Let Down Your Hair x 1, Wanted (Local) x 1, Wanted (Global) x 3, Wildbow? Where have I heard that before?, Bound By Blood [Paid In Blood], Slaughterhouse 8, Slaughterhouse 9000, Rogues Gallery, Morsel, Trouble Magnet, Wild Wasteland, Fated Journey, Child of Fate, Plotbound, Stalker x 1, Villain Target, The Summoning, Acclimation, Jet Lag, Snail's Pace, Quarter Pounder, Acclimated, Arbitrary Limitations (One Power) x 2, Nemesis, Second Wave Parahumans, Native Awakening, Chaotic Evil x 1, Yandere x 1, Weaker than You x 1, Royal, Rank 1, High-Tier, Rank 1
**Shard**
Shardless
**Powers**
Changer (Ritsuka), Hibernation, Mon3tr (Arknights), Aeldari (Warhammer: 40k) [Path of the Seer, Kabalite (Warhammer: 40k)], Aspect Warrior (Warhammer 40k), Mushin, Epsilon-Class Psyker (Warhammer: 40k) [Eskatonic (Fading Suns)], Bene Gesserit (Dune), Mentat (Dune), Geode Magic [Beach Magic], Sea Magic (JRPG Traitor), Originium Arts (Arknights) [At the Cutting-edge], The Silver Huntress, Midnight Aristocrat (Warhammer: Fantasy), Magitech, Psitech, Soultech, Planetech, Manpower Maker, Portal Crafting, Kaiju Craft, Civilisation Shaper [Generational Loyalty, Instant Civilization], Techno-plagiarism, Techno-Savant, Asuryani (Warhammer: 40k), Project GAIA (Horizon Zero Dawn), Doctor M.D. (Arknights), The Holtzman Effect (Dune) [Guild Engineer (Fading Suns)]
**Objects of Power**
Perfect Weapon [Weapons Maker], Perfect Armor [Armorer], Valkyrie Equipment (Honkai Impact 3rd) [Godsbane-class Battlesuit, PRI-ARM], Wargear (Warhammer: 40k), Krait Mk II (Elite Dangerous), Fortress of Solitude (DC Comics), Perfect Computer [Microsoft], Focus (Horizon Zero Dawn) [Perfect Computing, System Expansion], Infinite Stratos (Infinite Stratos), Gyrinx (Warhammer: 40k), Displacement Containers
**Fusions & Upgrades**
Bio-Dial, Crystal Shell, Autarch (Warhammer: 40k) x 4, Natural-Born Psychic, Delta-Class Psyker (Warhammer: 40k), Gamma-Class Psyker (Warhammer: 40k), Nyxion The Moonborn Apex, Cultural Expansion [Biosphere Backup], "Your Name"-nium. x 3, Kaiju Housing, Care, and Combat, Efficient Tech, Project Consilium (Horizon Zero Dawn), Infusion, Fusion, Fission, Trinket, Trained, Alternate Setting Adaptation x 3, I Am Worthy! [The Perfect Wielder]
**Equipment & Items**
Genetic Database
**Companions**
Age Swap x 1, Native x 1, Character Power Increase x 1, Eternal Bond x 1, Zero-Two (Darling in the Franxx) [Klaxosapiens (Darling in the Franxx)]
**Point Conversion**
+100 SP -200 CP x 1, +50 SP -100 CP x 1, +15 SP -30 CP x 1
XXX
Code for CYOA:
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