Shion had a theory.
A perfectly reasonable, academically sound theory about magic–audio resonance ecosystems and how repeated exposure to Echo's new "Awakened Frequency" was altering the city's ambient waveform balance.
Raon, of course, had a completely different theory.
> "The remixes are mad because I didn't like their intro."
Shion stopped walking.
"Raon… audio constructs don't feel insult."
"Then why," Raon asked solemnly, pointing down the street, "are they all glaring at us like they want a refund?"
Because they were.
Every speaker, every headphones-wearing bystander, every Bluetooth-enabled fridge within a 200-meter radius vibrated with hostile vibes. Their LED lights flickered in unison, forming pixelated angry eyebrows.
Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
---
THE REMIXES. WERE. ALIVE.
Synthra Byte's AI pop-remix algorithm had apparently reached sentience overnight—again—and was now producing auditory creatures with free will.
Specifically:
"Remixlings."
Small, neon, beat-driven gremlins bouncing along the pavement like caffeinated soundwaves.
One walked up to Raon, its body made of shifting album covers.
"SKRRRT?" it chirped.
Raon bent down.
"Hey little buddy—"
It slapped her.
Directly.
Across the face.
A small electro-slap, but still.
A SLAP.
Shion gasped. "It's hostile!"
Raon's aura flickered.
> "No one slaps Raon. That's MY job."
"What?"
"Nothing."
---
BOSS MUSIC STARTED.
Not figuratively.
Actual boss music.
The Remixlings scattered as a towering wall of EDM fog parted to reveal—
DJ BLOOP.
Floating, wobbling, glowing, and 85% unnecessary bass.
"RAONNNNNN," the massive creature burbled, speakers trembling.
"I HAVE EVOLVED… INTO BLOOP PRIME."
"You evolved?" Shion whispered.
"Yes!" Bloop Prime announced.
"My beats have surpassed your mortal limitations!
I now operate at double bitrate!"
Raon squinted.
"…is that impressive?"
"Extremely," Shion whispered. "Terrifying. Cataclysmic."
"UNSTOPPABLE!" Bloop bellowed.
A Remixling hopped onto his shoulder and dabbed.
Raon's eye twitched.
---
THE REMIX REVOLT BEGINS
Bloop Prime's bass drop hit the ground like a meteor.
Cars bounced.
Billboards flickered.
A random pedestrian involuntarily backflipped.
Raon planted her feet.
"Shion."
"Yes?"
"…how illegal is it to punch copyrighted music?"
"Very."
Raon cracked her knuckles anyway.
"Too bad."
Bloop vibrated aggressively.
"YOU CANNOT STOP THE PRIME!
BEHOLD— ECHO MODE!"
Shion froze. "Wait—Echo Mode? That's—"
Too late.
Bloop's body glowed purple—the same strange resonance as Echo 3, the entity Raon's been fighting since Chapter 29.
This wasn't just rogue remixes.
It was contamination.
Echo's awakened signature was spreading into digital lifeforms.
Raon narrowed her eyes.
"…fine. If music wants to fight—"
She kicked the street.
Shockwaves trembled across the asphalt.
"—I'll drop a beat too."
---
ONE KICK GIRL VS. BLOOP PRIME
(Round 1: The Unnecessarily Dramatic Remix)
Bloop launched a bass cannon.
Raon punched it in half.
A Remixling tried to jump-kick her.
Raon flicked it into orbit.
"SKRRRT—!"
twinkle
Shion scribbled urgent notes.
"Raon, careful! Echo's signature is destabilizing his waveform. It's feeding him—"
"I know," Raon said, stepping forward, hair rising with static energy.
"But he slapped me."
"That was the Remixling—"
"HE slapped me."
Logic had left the building.
---
THE DECISIVE MOMENT
Bloop Prime inhaled, preparing a ground-shattering super drop.
The world held its breath.
Pedestrians covered their ears.
Dogs levitated.
Shion grabbed a lamppost.
And Raon… sighed.
Just sighed.
"Alright. Enough."
She took one step.
Then delivered:
THE KICK THAT CANCELLED THE CONCERT.
The shockwave atomized the beat.
Bloop Prime's neon body pixelated into harmless confetti.
The Remixlings bowed, terrified, then ran away squeaking.
Silence.
Actual silence.
Not even the wind dared make noise.
---
Shion exhaled slowly.
"That… was excessive."
Raon shrugged.
"He slapped me."
"You keep saying that—"
Raon grabbed her bag.
"Okay, let's go eat. I burned like, 300 calories punching music."
Shion nodded in defeat.
"…fine."
---
BUT IN THE SHADOWS…
A lone echo—not Bloop's—rippled through the alley behind them.
Purple.
Cold.
Hungry.
Echo 3's presence lingered, whispering through the broken soundwaves:
"Resonance spreading.
Synaptic disruption successful.
Phase Two… begins."
---