“Wait a moment, please,” the production assistant who had led Adah backstage at the MGC studios begged. He had to speedwalk to keep up with Adah, who was strutting toward the brightly lit studio floor where tonight’s program was being filmed. “We’re live! We need to wait for a commercial break. Not to mention, you haven’t had your make-up or anything done!”
Adah wasn’t waiting for anything. She was already late for tonight’s show due to Thibault’s interference, so she’d be damned if she let anyone else slow her down. She turned around and flashed the assistant a venomous scowl, which shut him up for the moment.
Once she’d regained her composure after destroying the vulture Cruelty, Adah had flown straight toward the MGC studios. She had arrived with her hair still a mess and more than a few tears in her stockings, all thanks to the explosion from her supercharged whip. Yet, she had no interest in letting a makeup artist clean her up, nor in redoing her transformation to give Heartbreak a fresh coat of paint. This was the appropriate look for Twilight Heartbreak tonight. Her disheveled state would bring the aftermath of her battle right onto the production stage.
Having visited the MGC studios once before, Adah had only needed someone to give her access backstage, then she could make her way to the studio floor where her teammates were waiting for her. Once the unlucky assistant who had gotten stuck with the job of escorting her had led her past a couple of security guards and through a locked door, there really wasn’t anything he could do to stop her. Adah had strode straight past the dressing room the guy had been trying to bring her to, gunning for the shadows of the center floor.
Her target awaited just beyond the production team, teleprompters, and cameras that crowded those shadows.
“Please,” the assistant begged again, his voice reduced to a whisper at this point. “At least let me mic you up.”
Adah stopped. That was a reasonable request. Not to mention, she’d look like a bit of an idiot if she kept having to lean into one of her teammate’s mics to talk.
She spun on her heel to face the production assistant, a man who looked like he was well into his 30’s but worn down as thin as a toothpick thanks to the stress of his job. As she did so, the friction of her heel against the vinyl floor caused an ear-piercing squeak to cry out. That part of her act had been unintended. The noise brought the attention of everyone in the studio to Adah, including the familiar host of tonight’s program. Leading the conversation with her teammates tonight was the same woman who had interviewed Adah during her last MGC appearance. The woman’s eyes went wide at the sight of Heartbreak.
What had Adah done to deserve such a reaction? Honestly…
Her squealing heel had brought the show to a screeching halt, but perhaps that was the best way for Heartbreak to make her entrance. It was these same heels that had helped Heartbreak make her first social media splash, after all.
During this momentary freeze, the PA scrambled toward one end of the studio floor, grabbed a lapel mic and receiver off a table, and then clipped each to Adah’s outfit. He gave her a thumbs up to indicate the mic was active, suddenly cooperative now that Adah had made her point.
If her voice could be picked up now, and program host’s attention was so clearly distracted by something off-screen, then Adah had the chance to employ a bit of theatrics. If there was ever a night the viewers might buy into this kind of over-the-top acting, it would be tonight. Her display against the vulture Cruelty could have established quite the intense atmosphere around Twilight Heartbreak.
“I can’t blame you for starting without me,” Adah said as she began to strut toward the section of the studio where tonight’s program was being filmed. “But I truly hope you’re all still full of energy. The fun’s only getting started.”
None of the technical staff nor tonight’s producer tried to stop Adah—most likely they were still processing what exactly she was doing. The assistant who had helped her out must have been in a full-blown panic at this point. He didn’t need to worry, though. For being so cooperative, Heartbreak would make sure he was shielded from any fallout. In the first place, she was about to give the network exactly what it wanted anyway.
Adah’s own teammates were the first to move past the surprise of her sudden arrival. The twins watched her walk onto the set with big smiles on their faces. Knowing them, they were probably excited that their captain had opened the door to really act up during tonight’s show. Adah couldn’t be sure how well-behaved the two of them had been up until now, but they were about to let their playful sides shine now—if they hadn’t already.
Rika smiled at Adah, too, though hers was more the kind of look you’d give a child who had broken some rule, but was too cute to scold over it. Fair enough—Heartbreak had that kind of brattiness in her, after all.
The program’s host responded to Adah’s arrival with an expression much closer to confusion. She stammered for a moment, possibly trying to think of some way to give the viewers at home some context for what was happening, but ultimately wound up glancing toward her teleprompter and the production crew for any guidance on what to do next. That was fine, too. If she gave up control of the flow of tonight’s show, then that simply meant that Heartbreak could take it over.
Adah finally crossed into the part of the studio floor that was illuminated by those blinding overhead lights. The set for tonight’s show was basic, like it had been when Adah first appeared on the network: just some chairs for the host and her guests. Since Adah had been late to arrive, there were currently only three guest chairs set out, each occupied by one of her teammates. Heartbreak had no place to sit, but even that was another opportunity.
Adah walked directly at Rika, whose own eyes soon widened like their host’s had. Adah sat down sideways across the girl’s lap and strung her arms up and over her neck. Rika had been using Adah’s lap as a headrest so often lately, so it was only fair to return the favor. One benefit of being smaller in stature was that she could get away with clinging to her partner like this. Maybe this wasn’t the kind of spice the show’s producer originally had in mind, but Adah doubted they’d raise many complaints with this arrangement.
Rika, for her part, put up with Adah’s presence with only a single complaint. She reached out to Adah via a private magic channel and said, “Is this payback for what happened at the bakery?”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Don’t be silly,” Adah answered. “This is just my way of showing I love you.”
As expected, that caused the tails of fabric on Rika’s transformation outfit to pulse bright red at a much heightened pace.
Through all of this, the show’s host had yet to find her tongue. She watched Adah, trying and failing to decide how to ask if she should have an extra chair brought onto the set. Then, her eyes darted toward the producer again, with a look that even Adah could read as pleading for a commercial break. That was one thing Heartbreak wasn’t going to allow right now.
“Don’t mind me,” she said, perhaps a bit louder than she needed to while wearing a microphone. “This is the most comfortable seat I could imagine taking. Why don’t we pick up where you had left off? As I said, now that we’re all here, the fun is just beginning.”
“We already covered all the boring stuff,” Ami joined in without delay. “When and where and all that crap.”
“You came just in time to talk about why people should go,” Emi added.
“Why?” Adah repeated. “To see us, of course.”
“That’s not very kind to our friends,” Rika said. With her left arm hidden from the cameras, she was able to pinch Adah on her hip as a reprimand or—more likely—as payback for Adah’s payback. Thankfully, Adah managed to keep on a straight face.
“Hmm, I suppose it’s not all about us,” Adah continued, speaking quick enough that their host didn’t have a chance to interject. Adah would need her to get involved again soon, but not just yet. “Now that I think about it, I’m most excited to bring all of our companions together in one place. The members of Fifty Flip will be there, with all of their elegance, energy, and—let’s say—mystique. Seliah, the little Witch of Warhem, will make an appearance. Even our charming friends at DreamRise are coming to celebrate the new year. With so many of the magic users of this region there, it’s only right that all of you at home attend as well, isn’t it?”
Adah looked into one of the cameras off-set. She had learned during her last appearance that the red lights that sometimes lit up above the cameras signaled which one was currently feeding into the broadcast. She figured the host probably received other signals, too, but this was the easiest way for guests to identify their angles.
That knowledge, combined with her recent practice with Seb, allowed her to take a small risk. Staring straight into a video camera was a dangerous game—a half second too long, and you’d come across as awkward or even scary. But, if she timed her gaze just right, and shifted her expression just enough, then she could grab the attention of everyone watching in the same way Rika’s eyes so often grabbed her own.
Adah snapped her focus back to their host, hoping she had nailed the timing and that whoever on the production was controlling the switches had enough sense to cut away at the same moment. At last, the woman sitting across from Adah and her teammates had regained her composure. She smoothed out her white blouse and pulled her maroon blazer tight against her shoulders as she readied her first proper response since Heartbreak’s arrival.
“I know I’m looking forward to the ‘carnival,’ as you’re calling it,” the woman said. “And it’s lovely to see you again, even if we weren’t expecting you until after our next break. For everyone watching who may not be familiar with the Sisterhood of the Last Light and all of its members, could you introduce yourself?”
That comment about the next break was probably a jab at Adah in retaliation for putting this woman on the spot twice in a row, but she was more than happy to let it slide. As Rika said, Heartbreak’s fun was often other people’s trouble.
As Adah readied herself to deliver a properly haughty introduction for Heartbreak, she noticed a bit of commotion spreading throughout the shadowy parts of the studio. Some of the crew were watching something on their phones, and the producer was waving frantically to a team of people working at computers at the back of the room. Adah had her suspicions from the way the crew were behaving, but their host’s reaction confirmed her theory. That was another trick she had learned last time: by paying attention to when audibles were coming through the host’s ear piece, and gauging her reaction to them, a guest could predict what content had grabbed the producer’s attention.
Tonight, there could only be one piece of news that this producer was so interested in. Based on the way he was directing his crew, he was eager to highlight it. Heartbreak could throw him a bone.
“You see,” Adah began, “that’s why I was late to tonight’s show. I don’t always choose the right words, or so my friends tell me. So, I figured it would be easier to show everyone watching who Twilight Heartbreak is.”
This play was another calculated gamble, but another that Adah was confident in. Despite Adah’s penchant for making her lose her cool, tonight’s host tended to be quick on the uptake. It was the same sort of skill Hyperia and Elegia possessed, an ability to keep the conversation moving from one point of interest to the next.
“Ah, that,” the woman said. “We do apologize to any viewers who had expected to see Twilight Heartbreak from the start of the show, but we do hope you’re enjoying this change of plans. Here is… er, Twilight Heartbreak’s self-introduction.”
She had ended her segue a little quizzically, but that wouldn’t be an issue. All the viewers would forget any awkwardness as soon as they saw this footage.
On one of the set-facing screens on the studio floor, Adah and her teammates watched a clip from her battle against the vulture Cruelty play out. The clip began around the time Adah first allowed her scythe’s power into her body. From this third-person perspective, she didn’t look much different than usual. A faint, black shadow surrounded her body, similar to the scarlet aura that emanated from Rika when she charged her railgun. Other than that, she looked the same as always—certainly not a pure white silhouette.
Time passed faster in the video than it had felt at the time, too. Adah could have sworn she’d spent a whole minute getting used to the scythe’s power, but it had actually only taken her a few seconds. Not long after the clip began, she was already holding her hand out toward the Cruelty.
Although the minor alteration to her appearance didn’t leave a major impact, her spellcasting absolutely did.
The fight was over before Adah even realized it. Even though she knew what was going to happen, the speed of it all shocked her. Her sequence of star attacks shot out as fast as a glissando on a piano, giving the feeling that Heartbreak really had dragged the vulture to herself via some telekinesis.
She lashed out with her whip almost instantly after the Cruelty arrived in front of her, and nearly the whole screen went black once her spell made contact with the bird. Whichever drone had filmed this footage had been hovering a couple hundred yards away, but even at that distance, it needed to zoom all the way out and retreat even farther back to properly capture the scene. The explosion from her whip had covered the whole area in a cloud of black magic.
At this point, both twins let out a cheer, though Adah didn’t know if the broadcast would pick that up. Ami reached over to shake her by the shoulder, causing a grin to spread across Adah’s face. If her teammates were getting hyped up, then this footage would have the impact it needed to.
Seeing her attack replayed, it was clear the spell had reached a level of destructive strength that already surpassed Rika’s railgun and Iris’s [Fleur-de-lis]. This was a degree of power you’d usually expect from the highest ranking magical girls. It was something anyone with a passing interest in magical girls would have to take notice of.
When the clip ended, the tally light above one of the cameras flicked on, indicating that the broadcast had returned to Adah and her teammates.
“That was… very impressive!” their host said, her brain still processing the gap between what she had witnessed and her preexisting impression of Heartbreak. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but surely you have at least a few you’d like to add yourself!”
“Me?” Adah said. “I’m just a princess who’s excited to celebrate the start of her reign. I’ll see you all there, won’t I?”