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magical girl ellie gets a minion
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Naomi spends her childhood learning as much, as quickly, as she can. Her parents are ecstatic when her attention turns towards computing -- their field. She gets books, her own hardware from a very young age, excited conversations about so-and-so language, and hours and hours left alone, tinkering. 

She makes her first calculator when she is six and doesn't stop -- except in frustration when she encounters access restrictions.

A conversation from the dinner table. Naomi shows her mother an application, across which angry letters spell: "ACCESS DENIED."

This doesn't make sense to Naomi. If they were trying to prevent access to bad people, then the bad people would want to find out their secrets more. She wants to, too, so, so badly -- but her mother has been consumed by her work again. Naomi, ignored, goes back to her machine.

She finds the source. It's easier than she expected. Better. Thrilling. She picks up an interest in cryptography and computer security. She practices.

When she meets people who share her instincts she feels a breath of fresh air. In one corner of the internet they call themselves "Spiders".Their mission is to expose corporate secrets. There are now too many avenues for a firm to hide money -- the rich being so astronomically rich, and the poor being such a good excuse to hold a charity ball or two. Everyone agrees that the people at the top are corrupt, that income and class mobility is impossible, and that people will do the jobs their parents did until those jobs disappear and they die in the slums. Not everyone agrees on where the money goes. 

"I swear." One of the more influential members' pet topics is their Illuminati theory. "I've looked at some of the financials for this one. Billions of dollars go to departments with black-box budget items that haven't been properly audited in decades. No one knows where this money is going and every 'investigation' turns up clean. There have to be spies in the government or something. I'm even seeing stuff for massive large-scale fake IDs."

The evidence mounts. Others start to come around. Maybe it's not the Illuminati, but there is something tying many of the major corps together. Including the shipping company Naomi's parents work for. Mr. Illuminati Theory thinks that one in particular is running drugs, or sex trafficking, or both. She's never thought to steal their passwords before, or to try to get at their secure computers at work. But to think that even they could be part of something like this ...

The information she finds confirms some of the spiders' theories, but not all of them. And before the actual investigation starts, the one that would prove once and for all that they are involved in massive criminal activity, Naomi finds that she did her job too well -- the backdoor virus spread so thoroughly that the firm collapsed under the scandal and mounting costs of fixing it.

Six months later, another dinner conversation. Naomi's parents tell her they've found a new job. The firms they've picked are infected. She tells them not to take the jobs. They condescend at her until she storms off. Ignored, as usual. 

Naomi can't use the same strategy twice. Not for both of them, it would be so suspicious. She wants to, though. Not least because she knows what she'll find.

For days, she seethes.

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"Better safe than sorry, then." Ellie hands her a small metal case.

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She takes the case. "How are these rationed?"

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"On an as-needed basis for frequent patrollers, around two a week for baseline."

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"Will you be able to return tomorrow?"

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"Yep! Same time as today?"

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"Yes."

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Naomi goes home. Yesterday she was too distracted by how obviously powerful MSY was to do any major decision making about what to do about it -- too terrified of them finding out about what she did to think about whether it was justified that she did it. Whatever Ellie says, it would almost certainly be a black mark on her record -- in an organization she will never be able to leave -- for them to find out that she destroyed one of their major shipping companies. A company she thought was incurably corrupt, a company she thought was running drugs and sex trafficking and in bed with the government besides.

She had seen firsthand some of the correspondence with contacts in government about fake IDs, about conveniently failing to audit certain departments, about the "cake" classification which seemed so obviously to be drugs before she realized it was probably grief cubes. About the frequency with which young, beautiful girls could be seen in some departments that she only now knew to be there not because they were sex workers but because they were immortal and had superpowers that the firms needed to maintain their competitive advantage.

But now ...

Almost all of the evidence she remembers was explained by what she now knew about MSY. The only exceptions are the extent to which the magical girls have infiltrated the government, and what kinds of conduct they'll excuse from one of their own -- and what amounts or styles of money, influence, or magic they'll throw around to protect them. 

She takes out her gem and looks at it. This is her, now. Not that she really minds -- the things she can do now! -- but it also means she's dependent on the same cubes she condemned her parents' company for transporting. If she had contracted a month earlier she could have died, having less access to grief cubes than she does now. If MSY didn't exist she could have died. Maybe they're not so bad.

Maybe everything she did was for nothing --

Maybe she cost her parents their jobs for nothing --

Maybe --

She notices her gem getting darker and her eyes widen and she cries, so scared, before fumbling for the box of grief cubes and holding one to her gem and fixing it --

No, she tells herself firmly. Everything was not for nothing. It's ... probably. No. It's almost certainly true that their massive collusion means they're overvalued and prices are higher than they would be otherwise, that everyone who knows about MSY has insider information about which firms will succeed and which will fail based on whether they have access to magic, that no one except they can make informed decisions about anything, that they're an integral part of the hyperclass apathy problem that plagues her world.

And that is something she can fix. Maybe she can even work with MSY to do it.

A sudden tiredness overcomes Naomi as she realizes that she hasn't slept in over 24 hours. She can ... she can investigate tomorrow. She can work out a plan to rise through the ranks of MSY and reveal them to the world -- tomorrow.

She sleeps.

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The night passes and so does the day, as is their wont.

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Naomi arrives at MSY headquarters, chipper and rested and five minutes early. 

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"Good afternoon."

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"Heya! Slept better today." She bounces.

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"That is apparent. How do you feel about combat training today?"

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"Good! Is there a training room?"

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"Yes. Underground." They take the elevator.

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"I'm actually really excited to learn different applications -- there are a bunch of utility uses for magic, right?"

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"Certainly, though few are capable of exploiting most."

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"Do some people just find it harder to use magic?"

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"Expanding your magic beyond what you are initially capable of is no mean feat."

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"And 'initially capable' is set when you wish? That's it?"

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"Yes."

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"That's horrible. Is there at least a way to test how much you have so people with less magic don't have to do as many patrols?"

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"Power levels are comparable, in general. The variation in specific application is most often the discriminating criterion."

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"I suppose that's not so bad. Still seems sad if someone really hates whatever ability they ended up with."

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"I suppose it would be."

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