The Herald of the Border

The Herald of the Border

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Commissioned by quiteadapperlass

Word Count: 2539

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Ah, what was I doing today, again?

Right. Dying.

Because, training is pain.

Naturally, getting trained up in martial arts is every young girl’s dream. Yep. Getting beat up, beating people up, and beating yourself up is the epitome a young woman’s ideal fantasy. Really, I’m living the perfect life.

Wow.

I get really, really cranky when you’re sore.

Time to cheer up, Ulrich! Go through the old routine you always went through when you had no friends because you were weird, sickly, and weird! It’s kinda sad, but it’s efficient, and anything efficient is great due to saving time, comedic irony, and self-directed racism!

The best reasons.

Right, mirror first, and then bath.

Time to take in and appreciate that limp noodle of a girl—

UH WHAT.

UUHHHHHh.

In the words of Issei without a translator: Nani the fuck!?

Eating more, exercising, and exterminating giant monsters does not work this fast! What the heck is this! I have abs! I look taller! Where the heck is my slouch? That slouch I worked hard to make apparent even when wearing a heavy coat and being forced through training! That was the only cool thing I had going for me! What these things? Are they the shoulders that people talk about!? Jeez! What the heck, I actually look like a human being now… No! That’s the old, shitty Ulrich talking! This is the virile, powerful Ulrich now! GRR!

Okay, it’s not that much muscle, but when you go from untraceable-diseased child soldier to trained-from-birth child soldier, it’s a big difference! I bet the Hitler Youth would’ve done WAAAY better if they weren’t starving. Too bad they didn’t meta-game well enough to pad their K/D rations. Jeez. What amateur commanders they had back then. Getting your child soldiers underfed AND not putting them on crew-served military equipment? Might as well not have bothered with’em. Until AKs, small arms had too high of a STR requirement for kids to handle.

Not this kid though!

Not anymore!

Get me a buzzsaw and—

Oof, since when did the good-old gags get so stale? I can feel blank stares at my back instead of scoffs and eye rolls. Ah, I see. This was Kuroka’s fault. She’s been spending so much time with me that I’m getting a feel for my audience, and they’re getting tired of the ole’routine! Dammit. I need new materials. Axis jokes? Nah. Argento made me feel insecure. Soviet jokes? Ah, no. Shirone scared me and my whole country. That was a no go. Anime? …I don’t want to say yes, but I can’t say no either.

I’ll open that pandora’s box later.

For now… FLEX!

Ulrich has levelled up from soggy, overcooked chowmein to dry, artisal macaroni! I’ve got class, chew, and people will pick fights in the internet about how hot I get!

Nice!

All it took was the most continuous pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life… and the need to continue feeling that pain for the rest of it.

Not so nice!

But, at least I’m hot.

…Well… normal, I guess?

…

So, what am I doing today? Getting talked up by cats? Getting beat up? Fighting giant monsters? Since becoming a Preserver, all three of those happened a lot. Sometimes, I went and talked to Aspects that could turn the world into glass, too. However, Li-cifer was busy. Great guy, but with a very tight schedule. Also, it didn’t help that he kept odd hours. It’d be great to spend time with the great, amazing Li Song, but waking up at 4am and not sleeping until 12 is no good, especially when you’re spending most of your days fighting. A gal’s got to have some self-care, especially when they’re pretty normal, besides having the magical equivalent of a WMD strapped to their soul.

Actually, especially when said girls has the magical equivalent of a WMD strapped to their soul.

I should send a complaint to CORE about being  overworked by Miyakuro—

“Nope. All complaints go to me. Please, go ahead and submit your complaint into this complaint box, right here.” Gah! How does a Japanese pirate always sneak up on a German child soldier!? It makes no thematic sense! I should have the better stealth score, simply because I’m a German child soldier. Miyakuro, you have no right to be so sneak… unless you’re multi-classing as a ninja! A Ninja Pirate! “You’re in a chipper mood today, you walking genocide machine. What’s got you so happy—no I’m not seriously asking that. Good job on becoming a normal human being, you over-energetic bitch.”

Miyakuro was correct about me being in a good mood. Unfortunately, my self-depreciation didn’t go through. I was smiling like a loon whilst eating breakfast. It was a good breakfast, but I didn’t want to be the girl known for smiling at wurst.

“Yes, please. Don’t do that.” Miyakuro was being served his own breakfast. It was a Japanese one. Soup, fish, and rice, with a salad on the side. It looked tasty, but all the foods provided to us were nutritionally calculated for our needs. The orphanage provided me with the same, but it was different when you had a personal maid/chef/assassin cooking for you. They just made things better.  Being cured of an unknown disease helped, too. Mostly thanks to a certain grumpy cat of a human being.  “Before you ask: no. I don’t want to spend time with you. I’m busy keeping this place running.”

Well, then.

I was going to eat breakfast.

CONVERSATIONALLY.

Right in front of him.

Yes.

I was going to enjoy my breakfast, with my GOOD MOOD, right in front of Miyakuro.

In complete silence, I was just going to send GOOD VIBES, at Miyakuro without a single word.

“I hate you.” I win. Hahaha! German efficiency wins again! How? Well, whilst others would recoil in shock at the thought of having their mind read, all I could think was how useful it was to eat and talk at the same time. “Please, choke on your happiness.”

Well, what was there to talk about with Miyakuro?

There was the stuff about all the paperwork he did all the time.

“I came here to eat. Not to kill myself.”

Anime?

“I know more than you.”

Life, the universe, and everything?

“Life is pain. The universe doesn’t care. Everything only cares about itself. Fact.”

Uhhh, how to not die horribly?

“Wow, what an actually useful question. Good on you. Let me tell you so that I can do my best to choke on my breakfast.” Ah, that worked. How’d that work? Brain… analyze what has occurred. How did I manage to converse with Miyakuro? Mhmm. Let him have a cheap shot at my intelligence. Makes sense. Right. And, I also did appeal to his sense of knowing everything. Perfect, accidental move there. Correct! I also gave him the chance to blame another person for dying. Got it. I’ll keep that in mind for the next time we talk. “First, you train. Then, you train. And, finally, you make sure that everyone else who’s training is never as good at you, crippled, or about to die. That’s how you outlive your whole family, friends, and get yourself cooped up in a safe office doing logistics, whilst everyone else risks their asses.”

O-oh… I forgot about the whole… thing.

“I don’t need your pity for losing all my family. Fuck you, they died well, too. They all went out doing what they believed in, while I got my ass beat without getting anything done.” But, weren’t they still his family? Wasn’t there a heart in there somewhere? Miyakuro… well… Odin definitely cared about the rest of his Pantheon. I was definitely feeling five times more stupid and ashamed of myself than usual. That’s a pretty hefty amount. I’m sure that I was doing something wrong, but I just didn’t know what. “No, what you’re doing wrong right now is not eating as fast as possible, getting your ass into the training room, and checking out if the massive changes to your physique has meant any differences to your fucking Longinus.”

…I didn’t know whether he was changing the subject, calling me stupid, or giving me wisdom that I needed to follow.

“That answer to that question is: Yes.”

Wow.

Insulted, advised, and shamed in one sentence.

“Your German efficiency ought to love that.”

I…  I really did.

…

Quick Question: what’s the difference between a WMD and a D-Weapon?

Technically, the answer is that a D-Weapon is so scary that you can’t even put it into words. WMDs can still be encompassed by the mind. A person can get a big bomb, a massive bio-engineered plague, or some really, really tough guy who wanted to take out a whole country. People get WMDs. They understand that they’re used only in certain circumstances where everything its targeted at needs to die, despite whatever consequences that WMD brings into the table.

A D-Weapon is pretty a weaponized miracle.  

Miracle as in inexplicable to humanity as a whole, and even to those who know magic, because of how utterly, completely, and terrifyingly powerful it is. No one gets the full ramifications of a D-Weapon. They’re meant to be last-ditch weapons when everyone uses nukes as initial strikes. No one wants to find out if they work. Not a single one has been tested. Yet, here I was with a D-Weapon grafted to my soul because I finally had the body that let me fully access all the power Dimension Lost could give me.

It used to be difficult just to teleport around, but I noticed that it got easier with practice.

However, the difference between how I was before I came to the Preservers and who I was now was gigantic. Tone and physical appearance notwithstanding, I had a body more capable of utilizing what it had at its disposal… and if you have a Longinus inside you, you have a lot at your disposal.

I suppose it was a matter of finally having the right engine for both the fuel reserves and the machine that took from both of it. It doesn’t matter if you have amazing armor, locomotor systems, and weapons, if the thing providing it all with power was utter crap. Now that I wasn’t utterly crap, both due to having a disease beaten out of me and going through physical training designed by an Aspect,  those circumstances were no longer mine.

I now had at my disposal the full strength and might of Dimension Lost. It was the Sacred Gear capable of utterly defacing the whole world, going into other realities, and destroying whole worlds over there too. Some might even say it’s better than THE Longinus, since it could also transport around armies, and provide support to people instead of just being a weapon. Then, of course, there’s also the fact that it can manifest as a mist that teleports things piece by piece across countless dimensions.

I’ve truly become someone else now.

I was unrecognizable from the Elizabeth Ulrich who left the orphanage, who worried about fighting forever, and whose best trick was some quick thinking, relocating, and deliveries of other assets.

I… I was someone that was completely and utterly alien, different, and terrifying to the average person.

Except for those in the Preservers.

That thought should’ve really frightened me.

However… instead of the strangers I thought I’d never join fully when I’d first met… I saw people I cared about, who cared about me, and who I wanted to stay with.

People who I’d fight for, instead of a nation or an order who kept me alive.

Did that have something to do with my changes, too?

If I met myself now, as the person who I was before I came to the Preservers, would I even recognize myself?

I couldn’t find an answer to that question.

But, another one rose in its place.

Would I see the person I was then as who I am now?

…

[Title Gained: Herald of the Border: +200 to Sacred Gear Cap. +100 to Education.  +100 to Tactics. +2 to Education and Tactics. +1 to Sacred Gear Training. You have vastly increased all your physical attributes and abilities. Your Charges have increased in effectiveness and your number of Charges have increased massively. You have become a Human D-Weapon.]

…

>Priestess of Speed:

‘You have become a Human D-Weapon’

Well, gals, we’re a superweapon amongst superweapons, despite the fact we initially wanted to get out after getting the job done.

>Cucumber:

I just wanted to keep my friends safe, dammit!

Why does that have to involve become some sort of super powered meathead!

>DayWaker:

I suppose it makes sense. The price of power is often strange. Li Song’s just managing it well. We’re not exactly the sort to attract media attention, or make ourselves look pretty, so we can’t exactly look good and feel good working the D-Weapon angle.

>Mundane Mistress:

We were seduced by the cats. Damn them! They made themselves cute and easily cherished! We should’ve never had friends! We were doing fine avoiding all the world’s problems, and just trafficking important personnel, before we decided to have friends!

Down with friends! They ruin lives.

(Shirone please forgive me I’m just trying to be funny.)

>Rooftop:

Welp, look all that stuff that needs proofreading. Seriously, why don’t you just take my offer to take care of those before you post, Miko? You’ll seriously look way better posting here if you did.

>StoneShade:

Blergh, I’m here for the cool, hot potential husbandos. Stop with this power fantasy and “depth.” I want more screen time of husbandos being awesome.

>Cucumber:

I thought we told you to leave and never come back here!

(SongXHyoudou BL update wheennnnn.)

>Priestess of Speed

@StoneShade: pls update.

Edit:

One of us! One of us! One of us!

>Human’s Hubris:

Nice.gif.

Edit:

Mandatory text.

>Fog Spear:

Augh, Husbando shitposting a handful of posts in. Can’t a girl go to a quest and enjoy some good character development without having to see stuff about hot dudes? Remember, gals, we need to have more character development, work hard, and level up so we can stay at the tippy top in whatever multi-faceted relationship web we find ourselves in.

Seriously, I’ll never forgive you all if we just end up being some side-chick! We’re freaking Dimension Lost! All the other gals need to follow OUR lead!

>Mundane Mistress:

We’re like, not even 18.

>Tortured Soul:

Wait, how old are we again? I forget?

Were we growing up to be a stunner, or were we manipulating that one dude into our ideal dude? Which quest is this again?

I forget since Miko has so many.

>Gun:

This is the one where we’re a child soldier from a secret organization that got recruited by another secret organization whose headed by Li-cifer.

There’s like only three available routes and we picked the easiest one because he’s cute and funny.

Also, because Lucifer’s too high spec and the other one’s like a dad in a teen’s body.

>WhatAnExcellentFellow

When you say it like that I become very disappointed in my life choices.