Warning: The narrator is not Cirno!
[What the fuck did you just say to me you fuckstick bitchMcNugget?!]
<<You’re a fucking loser. I bet you’re some forty year-old fatass jerking off while you pretend to be a woman.>>
[FUCK YOU I WILL PUT MY HEAD THROUGH THIS FUCKING MONITOR AND BITE YOUR GOD DAMN TORSO!!!]
I quickly shut down my top-of-the-line PC before I could get too pissed and chuck it out the fucking second-story window of my apartment. Whether I’m excited or not that the internet will take over the world in the next ten years, I’m not sure. The potential excites the shit out of me, but those fucking bastards that started shitting all over everything the minute they found out they couldn’t get in trouble made me want to grab the Internet itself by the throat and strangle the fucker to death.
Anyway, I’ve already gotten in trouble for hacking the shit out of guys like that, so I’m trying to keep my anger under control by shutting everything down before I blow a gasket.
Having four computers set up on my big-ass desk doesn’t really help matters, though. In the thirty-six hours I’d been awake, I’d already gotten into fights on all four of them and shut each down in succession. Usually, it wasn’t until reaching that point that I managed to get any sleep.
I rose from my seat and adjusted my tank-top and underwear. —I’m not trying to be saucy or anything by saying I was in my underwear—it’s just a necessity when you work with computers, because you don’t want to conduct static electricity. Mentioning this online is what began the argument over whether or not I was, in fact, female. I promise you that I am.
Having risen from my chair, I crossed to the other gargantuan desk in my room, which was absolutely covered in firearms. Actually, my entire room was covered in firearms from the floor to the walls, and even this bitchin’ fifty-cal rifle that I’ve got hanging from my ceiling—the same one that my ex-boyfriend of six months unfortunately used to take his own head off. How the stupid bastard pulled that one off remains the greatest mystery of my world.
After checking up on a Deagle that I’d been distracted from repairing earlier by a sudden viral attack, I decided to leave it for tomorrow and hit the bed, since it was already 5:45 AM.
Sadly, no bed was to be struck, as the doorbell then murderously chimed deep in the core of my brain. It met with the reply, “who what the fuck?!”—a product of everything inside my head having just ground to a halt in expectation of the rest it so greatly desired.
“It’s me,” said clearly the most genius fucking person, who just assumed I’d be able to recognize even my own mother’s voice at that hour of day. I guessed by the word choice it was someone I at least knew well enough to invite in, so I did (insofar as “damn, IN” was an invitation).
Who strode in with the notably evening sun behind him was none other than my baby brother, Cirno. And apparently it was 5:45 PM—my mistake.
“Claire, we’ve gotta go on an adventure,” was the complete sentence that Cirno uttered before so much as greeting me this fine evening.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled.
“I’ll give you the details later, but what matters is you’ve never seen a weapon like this before.”
I shot up, fully awake, like I’d just taken a sip of God’s magical coffee blend, and fixed my eyes on the immediately apparent purple glowy thing in Cirno’s hands.
“Is that a fucking lightsaber?”
“No, it’s Purple Steve.”
“What’s it made of?”
“It’s a garden hose attachment that got struck by purple lightning while I was holding it.”
“…what’s that all about?”
“Long story. I recommend consulting Chapter Two.”
“Later. What can it do?”
“Hey, guys? It’s kind of, uh, awkward, you talking about me like I’m not—”
“It can speed up its particles and become super hot, allowing it to cut through just about anything.”
“Amazing. Is it like a sword?”
“More like a chainsaw.”
“Fuck. A. Duck. Fantastic.”
“Also, it can talk.”
“Fuck a duck? I’ve honestly never heard that one before.”
“Is that why it’s named Steve?”
“Yes. Full name Steven, technical name Purple Steve.”
“Is that what that is?”
“Can I hold it?”
“Look, I know I’m technically genderless, but I really do prefer more humanist pronou—”
As soon as Purple Steve reached my hands, I spun in an arc and slashed him through the air, attacking a broadsoard that was hanging on my wall. The sword was melted through like butter. I whistled with admiration.
“It’s like one of the prog knives from Evangelion. I’ve always wanted one of those.”
“Steve isn’t for sale, but you can spend some time with him if you go on this adventure with us.”
“What kind of adventure are we talkin’ about here?”
“Well for starters, check this out.”
Cirno produced a big, rolled-up poster and unfurled it to reveal a map of the USA with big red Xs marked in various places.
“The long and short of it is, demons from another dimension have come to Earth and plan to conquer it, and their plans involve the cities marked on this map. I’ve got some other maps, too, but I’m gonna take them to Narita to figure out what they mean. Anyway, me and Steve are gonna track them down and put a stop to their plans!”
Whilst considering this proposition, I produced a cigarette from a pack on a nearby desk and lit it up.
“I never took you to be a moralist, Cirno.”
“Hm? I’m in this for the fun, Claire. You should know that.”
“Right, sorry. Well, that’s something I can get behind. I’m guessing you want me to load all my shit in the van and drive you guys around the country?”
“Yes. Especially that.” Cirno pointed to the rocket-propelled-grenade launcher that laid on my bed, the only weapon important enough to sleep with me every night.
“Am I gonna get paid for this?”
“No. Why, do you need it?”
“Naw, I’ve still got way more than enough of what your dumbass brother left behind. Just wanted to feel like I was getting something out of this.”
“You get to play with Purple Steve.”
“God, that sounds so disturbing…”
“Alright, I guess that’s good enough. Here,” I tossed him a key ring. “Bring the van around and let’s load this bitch up!”
CLAIRE ITOU HAS JOINED THE PARTY!