Crossover Shipgirls: Building a Dimensional Empire from Scratch

Cough—cough—

When Westcott crawled out of the rubble, the DEM Industries building had already turned into a pile of ruins, with dust and debris scattered everywhere.

The remaining armed personnel, utterly clueless about what had happened, were scurrying around like headless chickens.

”An air raid?! Why am I under an air raid?!”

”Was Britain declared war upon?! By who? Who has this kind of capability?! Could it be that northern country?…”

His mind was in complete disarray.

The idea of being attacked by aircraft in the capital of Britain was utterly absurd.

To have the capacity to strike across oceans and straits, directly targeting the British Isles—what kind of power could do this?

World War III?!

Considering the Cold War era of the 1980s, it wasn’t entirely out of the question. And among the nations capable of such transoceanic assaults, there was only one likely suspect.

Clack—clack—

As his thoughts spiraled chaotically, the sound of heavy heels hitting the ground echoed closer.

A girl in a black-and-red Gothic dress, with twin ponytails and holding two flintlock pistols, stepped into view.

”Hehehehe—”

”So, it was you, wasn’t it? All of this chaos, caused by your handiwork?”

Kurumi’s voice was laced with killing intent, making Westcott’s entire body shudder with unease.

He looked up.

The Spirit girl was glaring at him with pure disdain.

Not far behind her stood a young man in a military uniform, flanked by a group of similarly dressed but strikingly beautiful girls.

”!!!”

With just a glance at the people surrounding Setsuna, Westcott’s breathing grew ragged.

”The Spirit… of Origin!!!”

He immediately ignored the unfamiliar shipgirls and dragon maid.

His gaze locked onto the girl standing by Setsuna’s side, her arm intertwined with his, her brows furrowed as she surveyed the surroundings.

A wizard ’s sensitivity to Spirits was infallible. The spiritual energy radiating from her was identical to what he had felt when she was first summoned.

But now, she had inexplicably been whisked away by this stranger.

”Who are you?!”

Westcott looked up, his gaze fixed on the man in front of him.

Behind Setsuna, in the distant sky, loomed an incomprehensibly massive starship.

At this point in the Date A Live timeline, the story had only just begun. Ratatoskr had yet to be established, meaning there was no Fraxinus, their iconic airborne battleship.

Similarly, DEM Industries had not yet developed their Arbatel assault craft, nor had they begun their research into Spirit inversions.

Both technological and magical advancements were decades behind what they would eventually become.

Westcott had no way of comprehending the sheer scale or nature of the vessel before him.

”I’m here to send you to hell.”

Kurumi didn’t bother to answer his question. She raised her hand and fired.

Bang—Bang—

Westcott evaded the shots, retreating to a safer distance.

A flash of light enveloped him, and moments later, a sophisticated set of armor appeared on his body.

The ensemble, resembling a semi-mechanical exoskeleton, was one of DEM Industries’s combat suits—a hybrid creation of magic and technology.

In later years, Westcott wouldn’t even need such equipment, but at this moment, before he had acquired the power of Spirit inversion, this was his greatest asset.

He closed his eyes briefly, sensing the auras of Setsuna and the people around him.

He couldn’t read them clearly—there was no Spirit energy, no magical signatures.

This gave Westcott a measure of confidence. In his mind, only another powerful pureblood wizard could stand against him in this world.

Whoosh—

Without hesitation, he launched a supersonic attack directly at Setsuna, who he assumed was the leader of this group.

The sonic boom echoed sharply as he closed the distance. Even Kurumi hadn’t had time to react.

Bang—

Suddenly, a massive, semi-mechanical structure materialized around Setsuna.

It resembled a mechanical version of Susanoo, with one hand gripping Westcott’s blade and the other wielding a glowing energy sword.

With a single downward slash—

Boom!

Westcott’s CR-UNIT armor was instantly shattered into fragments, sending him crashing to the ground.

A crater formed beneath him, cracks radiating outward for over ten meters.

”What the hell is that?!”

Not only was Westcott stunned, but even Kurumi and Mio were left speechless.

This was an ability Setsuna had never demonstrated before.

”This is the Commander’s Susanoo Gundam. That’s what we usually call it,” Formidable muttered to Mio, almost as if giving her a secret briefing.

”Uh… but this is only the half-phase Gundam, technically 1.5-stage. The second stage is the full version that can fly. We don’t need it for this guy…”

”1.5-stage? Second stage?” Mio tilted her head, finding the terminology rather curious.

Setsuna looked down at Westcott, his tone icy. ”The reason I didn’t just use the positron cannon to wipe this place off the map is that it’d be letting you off too easily.”

Given the atrocities Westcott had committed, vanishing instantly in a blaze of high-energy radiation would almost be a gift.

”Cough—cough—”

”You’re here for revenge, too, aren’t you? From the past? Or the future?!” Westcott gasped, coughing violently as he spat out blood.

”That blow was enough to leave him half-dead. His armor was shattered, and any chance to resist was completely gone.”

”I acted for revenge against humanity… what about you?! Why are you here?!”

Setsuna didn’t care to indulge in Westcott’s final words. Instead, he turned to Kurumi and gestured casually.

”He’s all yours.”

Kurumi’s lips curved into a sinister smile. ”Oh my, how considerate.”

She licked her lips, gripping Westcott by the collar and dragging him to a more secluded corner.

”I’ve killed plenty of scum in my time, but you… you’re by far the vilest. You make my skin crawl.”

”For me, and for everyone else’s future, how about you do us a favor and die… painfully?”

Bang—bang—

The sound of gunshots and blows, mingled with Westcott’s anguished screams, echoed through the ruins.

Roughly an hour later, after Setsuna and Tohru had finished dealing with the remaining DEM operatives and packed up any useful research materials, the screams gradually faded, eventually disappearing altogether.

Kurumi returned to Setsuna’s side, dusting off her hands with a satisfied expression.

”All done. That guy still had quite a bit of time left in him, though.”

”What’s next? Back to 2011?”

With the Spirit of Origin now under Setsuna’s protection and DEM obliterated, there was little left in this world to stir up trouble.

As long as Setsuna opened the space-time portal to return to the timeline 20-plus years later, everything would reset.

The mission would be complete.

”Hmm…”

”But before that, there’s something else we can take care of,” Setsuna mused after a moment of thought.

”Let’s go recruit another Spirit. There’s someone perfectly suitable in this timeline.”

...

Three days later.

In the suburbs of Tokyo, within a modest apartment.

A girl with short gray hair and blue-green eyes, dressed in slightly sloppy loungewear, was hunched over a desk, focused on her drawing.

Her appearance was passably pretty, but she paid no attention to her image. Around her feet, a mountain of discarded drafts lay scattered.

”Ughhhhhh—”

”Why is this happening again?! Why was I rejected again?!”

Nia Honjo groaned in frustration, clawing at her hair.

At this time, she was still young—far from the bestselling mangaka she would become years later.

Right now, she was just an ordinary shut-in with a passion for drawing, rejected and bounced around by various magazines as a matter of routine.

”If only I had superpowers…”

After another hour of frantically working, Nia gazed at her latest creation and mumbled wistfully.

In her manga, the protagonist was an all-powerful esper, wielding unimaginable strength and knowledge.

But she, the author, lacked not only superpowers but also the basic ability to manage her own life.

Taking a swig from her bottle of liquor, she lay back on her bed, eyes drooping, ready to nap.

Suddenly.

Bang, bang, bang—

A loud knock came from her door.

”Who is it?”

Nia groggily stumbled to the door and opened it.

Before her stood a tall, well-built man in military uniform, his posture upright and commanding. Beside him was a silver-haired, blue-eyed girl whose beauty seemed otherworldly.

”And you are…?”

Nia squinted, trying to place these strikingly proper-looking visitors.

”Ahem, Miss Nia Honjo,” Setsuna began, clearing his throat.

He gestured for Mio, who stepped forward and extended her hand.

In her palm was a glimmering Spirit Crystal.

”How would you like to form a contract and become a magical girl… no, a Spirit?”

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