“You all remember the plan?” Hiroshi asked, the next morning.
“You've explained it three times,” Daisuke said, then glanced at the school gates, “but why do we all need to be here at six am?”
“Clearly, I didn't explain it properly,” Hiroshi began.
“Let me,” Sayuri said quickly. “You keep leaving steps out. Last night, we agreed on the things we'd do whatever the would-be god's does. We're here now because we need to find out exactly what he has done to the school. We're all here so we can talk about how we deal with that. Now, take your readings, Hiroshi.”
“You could have done that yourself,” Hiroshi reminded her as he began the scan. They'd modified everyone's watches to be remote terminals for the Master PC.
“The simplified instruction manual you came up with is 30 pages long,” Yuka said. “You do it.”
“OK,” Hiroshi said. “He's used the school gate. Everyone who goes through will have the same master PC standard transformation slowly applied, with retroactive memory adjustments.”
“Less jargon,” Sayuri said. “Everyone who goes through the gate will be slowly turned into something out of a porn film, right?”
“Near enough,” Hiroshi conceded. “This falls under the second category of scenarios we discussed.”
Sayuri smiled. “Which means we don't actually need to come here this early. The agreed plan will work fine.”
“We couldn't have known that though,” Hiroshi said patiently. “We had to be prepared in case he did something our plans hadn't allowed for. Anyway, we do all need to fine tune our personal illusions to best match what he's expecting to see, and we can make sure Ranma takes the bait.”
Daisuke groaned, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. “I forgot about that.”
Hiroshi smiled inwardly as he entered the classroom. Ranma had gone haring off to answer the challenge letter Daisuke had delivered, which should keep him out of the way. He'd made sure the fiancée's all knew, so that would keep them all busy too. Finding a suitable opponent for Ranma had been the trickiest part of that whole operation.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the would-be god to start gloating, a temptation no one deep into megalomania would be able to resist. The four of them would all be wrapped in carefully constructed illusion, so no one would be able to tell they hadn't been affected until they sprung the trap, and they'd even taken precautions against anyone else putting two and two together.
Smiling openly, Hiroshi sat down, and manacles popped out of the chair, snapping shut around his wrists, the click echoed two dozen times.
Hiroshi groaned, realising what he'd overlooked. He'd given the four of them broad protection against indirect effects, but that couldn't extend to immunity to mechanical devices. Even the Master PC would be strained to maintain a protection that broad.
Glancing round the classroom, he sighed. Only the four of them had been caught. Everyone else's manacles had dissolved, the kind of indirect effect he was protected from, but they seemed to have been caught by the modified chairs.
That was another thing he should have tested for, using multiple vectors to deliver the transformation, but in his arrogance he'd overridden Sayuri's concerns, saying it wouldn't matter.
Safely hidden beneath the illusion, he looked at her, and nodded an apology.
Akane dashed into the classroom, slamming the door against the wall.
“Ranma,” she explained, diving into her seat.
The manacles snapped closed around her wrists, and did not dissolve.
Hiroshi groaned. Great. Now he was going to be trapped in the same building as a furious Akane, not at all what he'd planned,
The transformation began slowly,a touch more bounce in the hair, a hint of polish on the nails, but it did not stop there. Step by step, it continued, all distinctions between male and female fading as make-up painted itself on faces growing delicate, trousers melding into heartstoppingly short skirts.
The teacher did not seem to notice, even when the topic of his, now her, lesson shifted in mid-sentence. Steadily, the scattered giggles rose in pitch, shirts growing tight over swelling breasts, then shrinking away to become daring bikinis.
All the while, Akane watched helplessly, fury growing on her face, but her struggles could not free her from the chair.
As the lesson finally ended, the teacher pulled the dildo out of her mouth. “And that's how you serve our master. Now, turn to your partners, and practice on each other.”
Two dozen beautiful girls turned to face each other, sexy pouts on their perfect lips, massive breasts jiggling.
If Hiroshi hadn't know the truth, it would have been a pleasant sight, material for a hundred daydreams, but half those beauties should be male.
“Behold,” the would-be god said, his voice echoing round the room. “Is this not a vision of perfection? Come now to the gym, and pay homage to my glory.”
Five pairs of manacles snapped open.
Akane surged out of her chair, flung it out of the window, then sprinted for the gym.
Hiroshi activated his secondary disguise, then looked at the others, checking they'd followed suit.
“Think we should let Akane deal with him?” Yuka suggested, the mask appearing on her face.
“She doesn't know what she's dealing with,” Sayuri said, hurrying to the door.
Hiroshi skidded into the gym, the other three close behind him.
A masked man looked down at them from his golden throne, then pointed at Akane, smashing her way through the entire transformed PE class.
“Enough,” he shouted. “Activate program 27b.”
A steel cage appeared round Akane.
Growling, she began wrestling with the bars.
“You, dear Akane, are now an irrelevance,” he said. “It is this masked foursome for whom I have staged this demonstration of my might.”
He paused. “Why the masks? You know well I already know your names.”
“You do,” Daisuke said, his disguised voice unrecognisable. “Akane doesn't.”
“It's like in the manga,” Yuka added. “The magical heroes have to keep their real identities secret.”
“Why didn't you stop this pervert?” Akane asked, the bars slowly bending in her grip.
Hiroshi smiled. “We did. Execute reveal!”
The transformed PE class vanished without trace.
“They were never really here,” Hiroshi explained. “He put a spell on the school gate, so we set up our own spell a step further out, which teleported everyone affected back to their beds.”
“So who was I just fighting?” Akane asked.
The would-be god nodded, leaning forwards curiously. “My gift was set to only work in the presence of a soul. No mere puppet or homunculus could have fooled it.”
“Solid illusions,” Hiroshi said, “animated by the dreaming souls of the people they seemed to be, but they won't remember anything.”
Hiroshi grinned broadly. It had required some tricky wording to set up the effect, and they'd had to brush pretty close to letting it all really happen to get round their opponents potential safeguards, but it had worked in the end, proof of his superior intellect.
“Sailing close to the wind,” the would-be god noted, then straightened up. “Thus, you prove yourself worthy to be my disciples and high priests.”
“Never,” Akane said, bursting out of her cage.
“Activate program-”
Akane tackled him to the ground, then looked at the foursome.
“Take his mask off,” Sayuri suggested.
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(Posted Mon, 13 Dec 2010 19:58)
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