Mikoto looked straight ahead.
For some reason, the night sky was glowing with a weird golden light, but she didn’t have time to take note of abnormal weather events. A nuclear device was quite possibly about to go off, and if someone could be worrying about something like that in such a dire situation, they’d probably get into the book of world records just for that.
“…”
The propulsion flame had vanished from the ballistic missile with the Nu-AD1967 on board. The large missile stood upright, but it was in an unstable position, about to break away from the arms. It didn’t seem like it would be able to maintain that position for long—it slowly but surely tilted over. Once it passed a certain point, it fell toward the ground like a tree chopped down by a lumberjack.
Now nobody could launch the missile anymore.
Exhaling lightly, Mikoto glanced around.
Black smoke was rising. It was billowing from the wreckage of the tanks and armored cars the independent unit had been controlling. Everything from their assault rifles to their spare guns had been cleanly cut in two by the friction of iron sand vibrating at high speeds. The carnage was so great that it was a mystery nobody had died.
“…Welp, guess that’s it,” said Mikoto in a half-hearted tone, searching for the Sister.
The girl she was looking for poked her head out from the hatch of a tank parked in the middle of the enemy formation. “A one-sided display of violence against an entire company two-hundred strong. With what you’ve done, even I cannot help but feel an inferiority complex building, says Misaka, somewhat glum.”
“What’re you saying? There are almost ten thousand of you altogether. That’s like a brigade or something. And you can use esper abilities and coordinate through the network, and you have Academy City’s latest tactics regularly fed into you. You’re on a whole other level from these guys.”
“I would still appreciate a modicum of individuality,” mumbled the Sister before her eyebrow twitched and she put a hand to her headset.
“What? Intercept some Russian military communications again?”
“…It appears as though disorder has erupted—they cannot contact the person named Nikolai Tolstoj, assumed to be the mastermind, reports Misaka with a serious face.”
“You always have the same face, though. You mean the enemy’s forces are imploding on their own? I wonder if Academy City carried out some kind of raid.”
“Details are unknown, but it seems opinion is split between units over whether to continue the operation or not, adds Misaka.”
“…There are other units? But if the boss character got done in, that means—”
“It looks like they decided to go on with it, says Misaka, adding the conclusion.”
“Oh, come on already! They just had to be super-zealous types!!” cried Mikoto bitterly, venting, sparks flying all about. “So?! Where’s the next unit?! Don’t tell me they can fire the Nu-AD1967 from a whole bunch of different places at once!!”
“Judging from the contents of their communication, it does not appear to be that bad, says Misaka in denial. The remainder of the independent unit consists of around ten officer-class people who have no direct combat power. And apparently the Nu-AD1967 lying there is the only one they can use, says Misaka, listening to the contents of the communication.”
Even if those officers had multiple warheads or missiles, they apparently needed to walk through several processes to fire, like positioning related vehicles and doing electronic adjustments of control bases. And Mikoto had just smashed all the people with the skills necessary to do those things. The remaining officers couldn’t set up a new missile, nor could they transport the warhead.
“But they can’t fire the missile now that it fell over, right?”
“The officers haven’t realized that fact, and they seem to be trying to give the fire order by force from a distance, says Misaka, thoroughly appalled.”
Mikoto blinked. “That means…”
“The missile won’t launch even with the emergency-use remote command, but wouldn’t the warhead still ignite right here? says Misaka, mentioning her own prediction.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!!”
Misaka, flustered, glanced toward the missile on its side.
“We’d die! If that happened, we’d definitely die!! You said a remote command, right?! Then if I jam it with my ability—!!”
“The signal is optical, using infrared beams, so wouldn’t your electromagnetic jamming be ineffective? warns Misaka.”
“Gah, come on! What is it, some kind of TV remote control?!”
She doubted radioactivity would leak that easily, but they were still talking about a jack-in-the-box nuclear missile. She walked around it, beginning to observe it. Just the missile itself was over twenty meters long.
“Wouldn’t I have shorted its comms circuitry with my lightning bolt from before…?”
“The vital circuits should be secured behind a layer of thick lead and reinforced glass, reports Misaka. And since intercontinental ballistic missiles are designed not to malfunction even when going through cumulonimbus clouds, it should be designed to resist high-tension currents, says Misaka, explaining an obvious thing. Did the missile not stop earlier only because the vehicle-based launch system was blown away?”
“If it’s infrared, that means it has a light receiver, right? I should be able to block the communication just by stuffing some rolled-up cloth in it!”
“I wonder if we’ll make it, says Misaka, sighing and cheering you on. Do your bessst. Sigh, when will I be able to meet that person?”
“Says the one not doing anything!!”