Accelerator's ability really was absurd.
After analyzing the memories of 9,980 recorded battles between the clones and Accelerator, Rowan had finally pieced together a workable understanding of how his power functioned and, more importantly, where its cracks were.
Accelerator controlled vectors. Direction, magnitude, flow. As long as something could be defined as energy or motion, he could redirect it with a touch. Kinetic force. Heat. Electrical current. Even neural signals.
The most terrifying part was his automatic reflection field.
Through constant high-speed calculation, Accelerator maintained a defensive layer across his skin. Anything he perceived as harmful was instantly reflected. Gas, radiation, shockwaves, projectiles. Even if he lost consciousness, the reflection would persist unless he consciously disabled it.
In theory, while that field was active, he was untouchable.
But theory always had limits.
The reflection only worked on systems Accelerator understood. Unknown phenomena required analysis, and analysis required time. If the energy exceeded his computational capacity or fell outside his conceptual framework, the reflection would falter.
He couldn't reflect a planet.
And like every esper, no matter how powerful, his body was still human. He needed air. Water. Food.
Rowan glanced at Misaka Mikoto as he explained all this.
"Any energy can be controlled," she repeated slowly. "That's vector control?"
She'd heard the name, of course. Everyone had. But the mechanics were another matter.
"If that's true," she said, electricity crackling faintly around her, "then my attacks probably won't work unless I overwhelm him."
"I've got a plan," Rowan replied calmly.
He leaned in and whispered it to her.
Deep beneath Academy City, in a windowless tower filled with crimson fluid and humming machinery, a pale man hung suspended upside down.
Aleister Crowley opened his eyes.
"What exactly are you?" he murmured.
Through the city-spanning surveillance network woven from microscopic machines, he had already received the report on Misaka 9981's anomaly. At first, he hadn't cared. A sudden leap in ability from moderate to advanced was unusual, but not unprecedented.
What changed everything was disappearance.
No esper could possess both electromagnetism and invisibility. That broke the rules. And rules mattered.
Only when Misaka 9981 reappeared, standing beside Misaka Mikoto herself, did Aleister begin to pay attention.
"Observe," he decided quietly. "Then capture."
The Absolute Evolution Project wasn't his true objective. Neither had been the earlier mass-production program. Both were misdirection, tools meant to move the clones across the world and expand the invisible infrastructure he required.
This anomaly threatened precision.
Still, even if Misaka 9981 had changed, Aleister was certain of one thing. A single advanced clone and a Level Five electromaster together were not enough to defeat Accelerator.
Back under the overpass, Misaka Mikoto looked at Rowan with surprise.
"That's it?" she asked. "Just draw his attention?"
"Trust me," Rowan said. "I'll handle the rest."
The plan was simple.
Mikoto would engage Accelerator directly, forcing him to focus entirely on her. While his attention was locked, Rowan would approach under concealment and use mental domination to force Accelerator to disable his reflection field.
Without it, Accelerator was just a man.
And if that failed, there were other options. Spells that ignored physical defenses entirely. Or retreat. A clean escape into a mirrored space where brute force meant nothing.
"If I can beat him head-on," Mikoto said, electricity surging higher, "then we won't need your backup plan."
Rowan nodded. He was curious too.
Then a familiar sensation crept across his spine.
That pressure.
That awareness.
"…Something's watching us," he muttered.
Mikoto frowned. "Again?"
Rowan scanned the empty air.
"These labs have better surveillance than I expected," he said quietly.
What he didn't say was that this didn't feel like cameras at all.
It felt alive.