Prologue: The Sorcery Battle

Are you familiar with a work called A Certain Magical Index?

I won't delve into the specifics of this series. Just know that it features both supernatural abilities and magic.

First, let's talk about the main heroine, Index.

Index Librorum Prohibitorum, also known as Index, is a nun and magician belonging to the Necessarius, the Church of Necessary Evil, within the Zero Church District of the English Puritan Church. She serves as a walking library, having memorized 103,000 grimoires. Her magical name is "dedicatus545," meaning "The dedicated lamb protects the knowledges of the strong."

Now, I realize this might be overwhelming, but it's a necessary preface.

I am a reincarnated individual. I don't know the details of how I reincarnated, and aside from my knowledge of A Certain Magical Index, I've forgotten everything about my previous life.

The issue at hand is that I have reincarnated as Index. A girl with long silver hair reaching her waist, emerald green eyes, fair skin, and a petite, delicate build. Given the nature of this character, it's hard not to suspect that the erasure of my past life's memories was deliberate—possibly due to the presence of a "collar."

However, reincarnating as Index isn't particularly troubling for me. Naturally, one might assume that if I possess Index's appearance, I might also wield the magic depicted in the series. Setting aside my fandom for A Certain Magical Index, the allure of wielding "magic" would overshadow minor inconveniences.

That said, these contemplations on my current situation only occurred after I had some time to settle down post-reincarnation.

For those deeply immersed in subculture, experiencing a supernatural phenomenon like reincarnation might not be so surprising.

In my case, I had no time to be astonished by my reincarnation. Not because I was born amidst the flames of war or anything dramatic—I was born into a typical British household.

The reason I wasn't startled by the reincarnation was because something even more bizarre had happened.

When I regained my consciousness, my mind was already filled with the knowledge of 103,000 grimoires.

Imagine waking up one day to find your head filled with the exact content of countless unknown books—103,000, to be precise.

An average person might read fewer than 2,000 books in a lifetime. Even reading one book per day, it would take 282 years and 70 days to finish 103,000 books.

Assuming Index's in-universe age of 15, if she started reading from birth, she would need to read about 19 books per day to achieve this feat.

While the method of memorization is unclear, if she genuinely read and remembered each book, it would be due to an extraordinary speed-reading ability paired with a "perfect memory" that instantaneously records and never forgets what it sees or hears.

If some magical method was used to instantaneously memorize them, the efficiency would surpass even sleep learning, akin to directly inputting data as in cyberpunk fiction.

I had, in essence, experienced something straight out of a sci-fi narrative.

Fortunately, just like the original Index, I was equipped with a defense mechanism against the pollution from the grimoires. The 103,000 grimoires, in their original form, hold the potential to turn one into a deity but are so dangerous that an ordinary person would go insane from merely glancing at one.

While I didn't explode or go mad, I did experience severe disorientation.

In the days it took for me to analyze my situation and regain my composure, I was placed in the care of a church. My parents, fervent Christians, seemed to believe I was possessed by a demon.

Regardless of whether demonic possession was real, it was highly unusual for a church to take in a child in this day and age. In hindsight, the entire situation was already abnormal.

Once I regained my sanity, I thought I would be returned to my parents, but instead, I was transferred to St. George's Cathedral.

According to the priest of the initial church, I was brimming with positive energy. He mentioned something about an innate talent for Reverse Curse Techniques. I wasn't familiar with Reverse Curse Techniques, but I did recognize the power coursing through me.

This was "Telesma," the power of angels, as my knowledge of the 103,000 grimoires indicated.

Telesma is the energy constituting "angels" and the "heavenly realm." Gathered through idol theory and used in magical rituals or imbued in spiritual equipment, Telesma is inflexible, only usable in ways aligned with its inherent properties.

In the series, Christians summon Telesma through symbolic weapons, but it can also reside in humans, with the prime example being "Saints."

Thus, being born with Telesma within me, I was essentially a Saint.

Saints are humans who are born with physical characteristics and magical symbols similar to those of the Son of God.

Index in the original work is not depicted as a Saint. This characteristic must be unique to me.

I suspect this is due to the "reincarnation" attribute.

Christianity doesn't recognize the concept of reincarnation. Most denominations do not believe in individual rebirth.

In this context, my existence, viewed through the Christian lens, would be forcibly interpreted as a "resurrection," acting as a divine symbol.

This is a gnostic-like intellectualism that I would never share with a devout Christian. It's a secret I'll take to my grave.

Here, a significant doubt arises. If the priest could sense Telesma, he was undoubtedly a magician. As a magician, he should have recognized my positive energy as Telesma. Yet, he didn't refer to it as Telesma.

Upon reflection, Telesma, although a common term, originally comes from the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, while Christians refer to it as God's Blessing. But Fianna did call it Telesma… Anyway, the terminology is irrelevant.

"A Saint…"

Hearing someone at St. George's Cathedral refer to me as a "Saint" only further confused my already overwhelmed mind.

---

Clergymen belonging to the church are given their own rooms within the city of London. It's somewhat like living in a dormitory.

St. George's Cathedral serves as the headquarters for the clergy in London, but their actual workplaces and activity areas are scattered throughout the city.

One of these locations is a clinic. Patients, ranging from those with minor injuries to those in critical condition, are brought here. This is especially common at night. When did the church become an emergency ward? Sometimes, even corpses are brought in, turning the place into a morgue as well.

The role assigned to me by the church is to heal using what they call the "reversed technique." Today is officially my first day on the job.

The problem is, I have no idea what this "reversed technique" is. I've never heard of such magic. Given that it's for treatment, it must be some form of healing magic.

In the clinic room, with over ten beds lined up, I was assigned to a patient with severe lacerations—possibly from a bear attack. This was considered a minor injury here.

Although the patient had received first aid, modern medical technology couldn't fully heal them without leaving scars.

Standing in front of the bed, I pondered what this "reversed technique" might be.

I observed my senior colleagues who were also healers. They touched their patients, but I couldn't figure out what they were doing.

When I asked them directly,

"It's like a tight squeeze, then a pop."

Other seniors gave equally vague responses, not providing a concrete method.

――Oh, this is useless. They're all instinctive healers.

From what I could piece together, it seemed I was already capable of generating positive energy. All that was left was to channel it into the patient.

No, no, it's dangerous to channel Telesma into a human body.

Telesma has no healing power. In fact, when it accumulates, the energy itself becomes destructive. Using Telesma to activate a healing spell is possible, but directly channeling it would cause the patient's body to explode.

Saints can harbor Telesma in their bodies because they instinctively learn to control it from birth. Those without this aptitude cannot withstand it.

"Index-chan, can't you output? It's a waste of your talent if you can't."

"Don't worry, there will always be a place for you. We can always use more assistants."

While I stood frozen in front of the patient, senior sisters comforted me.

By the way, I don't know my current name, but when the church took me in, they subtly suggested I change it.

It's probably a baptismal name. No, given the original context of Anglicanism, they wouldn't use such names often. Besides, if it's a pseudonym, I have my magical name.

I decided to call myself Index-Librorum-Prohibitorum. It's not a joke; it's the original name of Index from the series. It means "Index of Prohibited Books." If I'm going to use a name, it should be this one.

Though they gave me strange looks, they accepted it upon seeing my resolve.

"You can take a break. We'll handle the rest."

"No, I'm fine."

I stopped the senior sister who was about to take over and began the procedure.

Having been abandoned by my parents or taken by the church, I had to prove my usefulness to secure my place.

I couldn't use the reversed technique, but I had the knowledge of 103,000 grimoires.

While manipulating Telesma, I realized this body could generate magical power, which meant I could use magic.

The original Index couldn't use most magic due to the influence of her "collar," but I seemed to lack such restraints. Like the original Index, I had the protective mechanism against the poison of grimoires and the "Automatic Writing" ability of John's Pen.

"Please wait a moment."

I identified the necessary items in the room and retrieved tools for the ritual from the recreation room.

The conscious patients and senior sisters looked at me as if I were insane.

Healing magic varies greatly depending on the magician's aptitude. What I was about to perform was based on the knowledge of 103,000 grimoires. It was natural they didn't know it, and I would've stared in bewilderment if our roles were reversed.

Preparation complete. Though it might seem like I was taking over their job, if I could heal everyone at once, that would be for the best.

"I will heal everyone at once. Please do not move, no matter what happens."

"Everyone?"

I calculated the date and time from our location in London and the position of the moon and stars outside the window. It was around 8:30 PM on July 20.

"The end of Cancer, the night from 8 to 12."

The Zodiac sign of Cancer ranges from the summer solstice on June 21 to the Great Heat on July 23.

"The direction is west, guarded by Undine, the angel's role is Helwym."

Cancer represents the water element. Its corresponding direction is west, and the spirit to call upon is Undine.

While reciting the conditions, I bit my finger and used the blood to draw a magic circle. I drew a hexagram on the table, placed a book, a box, and chess pieces on it, creating a miniature model of this room.

The knowledge of 103,000 grimoires guided me to the optimal method. Despite it being my first time using magic, my movements were unwavering. Even knowing failure meant death, I was as unemotional as a machine.

"～～♪"

I sang without words, using only melody. The change was immediate.

"An earthquake!?"

The entire room… no, the entire space shook.

The chess piece on the table, a white bishop, also began to sing.

After a while, the shaking stopped.

Now, the table and this room were linked through the theory of idol worship. What happened in this room would happen on the table, and vice versa.

Continuing to sing, I envisioned an angel.

A beautiful angel with golden wings the size of a child appeared above us.

"An angel…"

Smoke rose from the pawns arranged on the table, each representing a patient.

In the next moment, the angel vanished.

"The spell was successful."

The horrific injuries of the patients, the bloodstains on their clothes and sheets, all were clean as if they had been illusions.

Warmth returned to my consciousness.

The senior sisters looked at me with wide eyes.

Even without experience, the abilities of Index were incredible. Though the power had been given to me rather than earned, I felt proud.

The main heroine of A Certain Magical Index is Index, not Mikoto Misaka. The original work is Index.

Though we've been delayed, it's time to make a comeback.

Do you like sisters? Great, you'll like them even more.

Here's the new model of the hungry biting demon 545.

Isn't she lovely? The patched-up nun's habit. But short hair is just for looks. It's hot in summer (with a broken air conditioner), she often picks fights, shocks people, and causes all sorts of trouble.

She has a high Engel coefficient. Even the smallest eater will be satisfied. Go ahead, try feeding her.

...Nice sound, right? It's the sound of confidence, her appetite is different.

Despite being the main heroine, Index's presence in the original was thin. But no one can surpass her in magical knowledge.

Othinus? Golden? Never heard of them.

As I smiled, they nodded at each other.

And then, I was taken to St. George's Cathedral.

...I don't get it.