"The serpent writhes in the bowels of the dream, the shadow of death rises to consume all. Bloody haze. The lost are found. The old are new? Newer than old than older than new. The crow hides from the storm and no rain comes to put out the fire. The First Coming becomes the Last Coming and we can do nothing, nothing, nothing..."

The room was silent. The little man slumped in his chair, scraggly black hair spilling over his face. The room was dark, save the intense light focused on the prophet.

"DOOM!" he shouted, suddenly surging forward in his chair, his eyes intense. "DOOMDOOMDOOM!" He rocked back and forth in the wooden chair, gradually gibbering into silence.

"Is that it, Saigo?" a tall man stepped into the circle of light, casting his shadow upon the relatively tiny prophet.

"That's all that's all I swear that's all," the small man gasped, his breathing harsh.

"Are you certain?" the man pressed, "There is absolutely nothing more?"

"Certainly certain! I'm certain that I'm certain, Master Rashid!" The prophet hugged his legs to his body and buried his face to avoid the shadowy man's gaze.

Zul Rashid paused for a long moment, considering. Then he suddenly seized a handful of the prophets black hair, wrenching his face up and to attention.

"What does it mean?" he hissed.

The prophet blinked dumbly, his mouth working without speaking. Rashid's eyes narrowed.

"Rashid, release him!" said a voice from the darkness. "He understands no more than we do. He is merely a mouthpiece. If you wish to abuse someone, abuse the ancestors and kami who speak through him, but do so at your own peril."

Rashid stepped back, wiping the grease of the prophet's hair on his vest. The prophet slumped in his chair, spent, eyeing Rashid nervously. The lights came on in the room. The Chamber of the Oracle was a small room, holding only six chairs; one was for the prophet, and five were for the Elemental Masters. Rashid's seat was empty, as was Isawa Kujimitsu's. And of course, the Master of Fire was not present.

Zul Rashid continued to scrutinize the prophet, analyzing, weighing, judging. The dark man may have sworn fealty to the Phoenix, and he loved Rokugan as his home, but he still did not understand all of this land's ways. Their prophets were certainly an oddity. In Medinat al-Salaam, prophets were bearers of ill omen. One might work what truth one could from them if they dared, but you certainly would not suffer them to live. After all, knowledge of future disasters sometimes merely hastened their arrival. But that was his old life. Those were his old ways. He was Rokugani now, and he would act it.

"I am sorry, Master Kujimitsu," Zul Rashid said formally, bowing low with elegance as he turned to the Master of Water, "I was carried upon the weight of his dreams."

Kujimitsu stood before the prophet, at Rashid's side. The two of them were an odd contrast. Rashid was tall and thin. His dark skin, pointed beard, small turban, and loose clothing identified him as an immigrant from the Burning Sands. Kujimitsu was short and thick. His hair was receding, his youth fading, but his eyes were large, clear, and an unearthly blue. The two were night and day, but they both wore the fiery colors of the Phoenix, and they were both Masters.

"Badgering him such only taxes him further," Kujimitsu said calmly to Rashid, though he looked upon the prophet. He laid one hand upon the young man's shoulder. "You have done well, Saigo, my friend. More than we could ask. You may go in peace."

The prophet nodded vigorously, smiling gratefully. He leaped to his feet, bowed quickly to each of the four Masters, and hurried out the door.

"So there we are," Rashid said, folding his arms and sitting in the prophet's chair, "A darker prophecy than we have heard in one hundred years, and we let him run out the door to tell the world."

"None know of Saigo's gift save us four," Kujimitsu replied, "No one will believe him, Rashid. We have time to deal with this."

"What can this mean?" echoed a dark, bottomless voice, "What can we do?" The Master of the Void rose from his chair. His face and arms were covered with the white bandages that he always wore. His coat was heavy and dark and covered his body.

"It means we have a war on our hands," Rashid growled rising and cutting the air with one hand, "And I'll bet that lunatic Yoritomo will be to blame."

A chittering chuckle met his remark. The Master of Earth crouched in his chair and stroked his whiskers. "The End of the World," he chattered, "Again, what's new?"

"Be serious, Nezumi," Rashid demanded, scowling at the rodentine Master.

Asako Ishikint cocked his head at Rashid, scrubbing at his chin with one pawlike hand. "Master of Air," he chuckled, cocking one foot up on the edge of his seat, "Full of hot air. Like the wind, worry at nothing and everything."

Rashid loomed over the small ratling, his face grim. "Isawa Saigo has the weight of dreams," he said, "He portends destruction for us all and you laugh."

Ishikint turned, his movements quick, his small dark eyes blinking at the Master of Air. "A Nezumi and a man on a raft approach the falls," he said, "The man sees the rocks and he hates his fate. He is dead. The Nezumi said, åOh, what a beautiful rainbow the spray makes.' He is alive." Ishikint grinned crookedly.

"Fool," Rashid grumbled, turning away and throwing himself in the prophet's chair once more.

"Master Ishikint speaks wisely," The Master of the Void said tonelessly. "Bemoaning our fate will accomplish nothing. Now that we are forewarned, let us prepare. What can we prepare for? What evil lurks that could bring the prophet's doom."

Rashid sneered. "The Senpet," he said, "The Pharaoh is not impressed with our Yoritomo. She knows a maniac when she sees one, and they have ever coveted the Diamond Empire."

"Or the Amijdal," Kujimitsu added, "They have ever been most curious about the Dragon's technology. I fear they would do anything for the Agasha's secrets."

"Clean your hut before guests arrive," Ishikint said quietly.

"What?" Kujimitsu asked, fiddling in one pocket for his watch.

"We look outside for our pain, but we do plenty to ourselves. How holds the Seal?" The Master of Earth turned his sharp gaze to Kujimitsu.

"On the Festering Pit?" Kujimitsu replied, "As strong as ever. A hundred masters keep the chant." He shifted uncertainly, breaking away from the Nezumi's stare. "Perhaps with the prophecy in mind it would be safer to increase the number."

"Agreed," echoed the Master of the Void, "Better to win than to gamble. More suggestions."

"Fire will not put out fire without fire," Ishikint chuckled.

"Accursed ratling!" Zul Rashid snarled, leaping from the prophet's chair, "Stop speaking in jests and riddles!"

Ishikint was on his feet quicker than sight could follow, standing before Zul Rashid at his full four feet. He leaned on his ancient staff, but his eyes were clear and fierce. "Ishikint," he said, "I Asako Ishikint. I Master of Earth. I Nezumi. I never ratling," he smiled, showing his sharp white teeth.

Rashid took a step back, overwhelmed by the Nezumi Master's intensity.

"I think Master Ishikint's point is quite clear," Kujimitsu sighed, "Before we can do anything, we must stop avoiding the inevitable. We must choose a new Master of Fire. We must stop avoiding our shame. Someone must be chosen."

"Someone," echoed the Master of the Void, staring at nothing, "I know someone..."

The Imperial Guard fell with a cacophony of screams and rattling gunfire. Blood and smoke filled the room. Somewhere in the confusion, Ichiro Chiodo laughed maniacally. The assembled courtiers and press agents surged about and mobbed each other in confusion. At the front of the chamber, Yoritomo VI sat calmly in the Diamond Throne, watching. A moment before, the Emperor had declared war on the world, and now war had broken out in the Dojicorp Building.

Hatsu darted left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of the assassin through the crowd, with little success. "What do we do?" he shouted over the chaos, turning to Kyo.

Tsuruchi Kyo smiled and drew a pair of pistols from his coat. "We save the Emperor," he said. The thin Wasp hopped onto a nearby chair and scanned the crowd. Nodding slightly, he planted one foot on the back of the chair, stood straight up, aimed, and fired once. The chair fell, depositing Kyo neatly on his feet.

The gunfire stopped.

The crowd suddenly parted, revealing Ichiro Chiodo, dead on the floor. His gun lay several feet away, and a pool of blood gathered at his head. Kyo chuckled and slipped his guns back into his long black coat. Hatsu said nothing. He still held his katana and wakizashi at the ready, and glanced about the crowd. The Doji House Guard was beginning to restore order. Cameramen at the front of the crowd were shooting footage of the dour Emperor. The Emperor's son and daughter were emerging from behind the throne where they had taken cover. The Emerald Champion was trying to rally the Imperial Guard. Hida Yasu was standing at the complimentary drink table, guzzling down one little drink after the other. Something was wrong.

The cameramen. Two cameramen in a plain brown suits stood at the front of the crowd, instead of the rear with the reporters.

"The cameramen!" Hatsu shouted, "Stop them!"

Hatsu broke into a run slipping around the crowd along the wall. He skidded to a halt mere feet away from the first cameraman. The man turned, surprised, and smiled feebly. "Hi," he said as he turned his camera toward Hatsu, "Magistrate, can I get a comment on--" A swift stroke from the Dragon's twin swords and the cameraman's headless corpse toppled to the floor. Hatsu knelt and glanced at the camera. At close observation, it was certainly no camera, rather a small, dense, and remarkably powerful short range pistol, of the Scorpion variety.

But time for investigation later. Hatsu broke into a run again, headed for the other assassin, but the crowd was thick and he knew he would never cross the room in time. He almost wished that he carried a gun. Where was Kyo?

The second assassin turned and glanced at Hatsu with a wicked smile, and pointed his camera at the Emperor. The Emerald Champion stood only feet away, oblivious to the danger. Then a rather small young girl in blue with white hair charged from the crowd, an Imperial Guardsman's katana in her hand. She dropped into a slide as the assassin drew aim on Doji Meda and swung her katana at the back of the his knees. The man screamed and fell forward as she sliced through the meat and tendons of his legs, dropping his weapon. She pounced upon his back and seized his hair, ramming his face into the floor until he stopped struggling.

Hatsu thanked the fortunes. Then he noticed the third cameraman, on the far side of the room, over by the buffet tables. Too far to ever reach, too far to even shout a warning. Hatsu ran towards the Emperor.

Yoritomo VI turned his impassive gaze at the cameraman and looked upon his death.

"Excuse me," said a tall blonde man, stepping swiftly in front of the camera, "I don't think you want to do that."

The assassin scowled, and the lens of his camera exploded as he fired a bullet into Akodo Daniri. Daniri turned quickly, taking the shot in the shoulder, and scrambled to his feet, blocking the cameraman's line of fire at the Emperor, who had not moved.

"Try it again," the Lion smiled, blood streaming from his shoulder. "The camera loves me."

The cameraman cursed and adjusted something on the side of his camera, preparing to fire again. Daniri sneered and prepared for the impact. Then Hida Yasu broke the drink table over the assassin's head. The Crab stepped back from the heap of broken timber, broken glasses, and broken assassin, patting off his hands on his chest plate.

"About time!" Daniri winced, holding his injured arm, "Were you waiting for him to shoot me again?"

Yasu blinked. "If I'd known he was going to shoot you again, I would have waited."

"You're kidding, right?" Daniri asked.

"Maybe." Yasu grinned, showing a fine set of square white teeth.

Suddenly, the Emerald Champion was standing on the dais surrounding the Diamond Throne. He held a pistol in one hand and a katana in the other. "Kameru, get the Emperor to safety!" he boomed, his eyes everywhere. "Kyo! Report!"

The Emperor's son, a short stocky man with a shaved head and a ponytail stood by his father's side. Kameru nodded curtly to the Champion. Yoritomo Ryosei, daughter of the Emperor, stood further back to one side, clutching the War Banner of the Mantis defensively. The Emperor regarded the room contemptuously as he slowly stood, replaced his helmet, and allowed his son and daughter to lead him through the exit behind the throne.

Hatsu sheathed his swords and strode up to the assassin Yasu had knocked over the head. The burly Crab stood nearby, drinking some more of the tiny complimentary drinks and keeping an eye on the groaning, near-comatose man. Hatsu knelt at the man's side and looked carefully at his face.

"Hatsu!" spat a voice as Tsuruchi Kyo emerged from the crowd nearby, "What are you doing? I must attend to the Emperor's safety and you must rally the Doji House Guard at once!"

"There are other magistrates," Hatsu said mildly, "This man yet lives and I intend to question him."

Kyo drew a pistol, pointed, and fired, scattering the assassin's skull in a fan of red. "There," he said, "That simplifies things greatly, doesn't it? Now protect my Emperor, Dragon."

Hatsu rose, seething in anger, and bowed stiffly. Kyo smirked and was gone, a whisper in the shadow of the Emperor. Hatsu cursed and pulled his seldom used radio from his coat pocket. After a minute or two of figuring out what the buttons did, Hatsu began issuing orders to the other Magistrates patrolling the building. He strode off toward the front of the building to overview the security lockdown, to insure that no one left the premises until everyone and everything had been thoroughly searched.

Hatsu noticed several purple uniformed Shinjo Magistrates scurrying about the room and detaining the dignitaries, but there were relatively few Doji House Guard.

"House Guard, report!" Hatsu called out. The young magistrate was not in the best mood. The guards at the door had allowed not one but four armed men to enter the Imperial Audience Chamber with weapons, had led to countless innocent people being injured or killed, and now were apparently ignoring his pleas for assistance.

Hatsu opened to doors to the audience chamber, and saw a group of Shinjo Magistrates standing about in a circle, keeping back the shocked crowd.

"Hatsu," he said, showing his badge to a young officer, "What's going on here?"

"See for yourself," the officer shrugged.

Twenty members of the Doji House Guard lay on the marble tiles, pierced through the stomach by their own wakizashis.

Hatsu finally returned to the audience chamber twenty minutes later. Most of the courtiers, press people, and dignitaries had been taken to other parts of the building where they could rest until they were dismissed, but Yasu and Daniri still stood near the body of one of the assassins. The young Crane girl knelt next to the assassin's corpse, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her beautiful kimono trailed in the puddle of blood.

Yasu spat on the cameraman's corpse and shook his head. "Waste," he said.

Daniri nodded. "He could have told us something if that Wasp hadn't gunned him like that."

"Us?" Hatsu said incredulously, "And by the Fortunes who do you two think you are? Aren't you the pair of thugs who tried to pick a fight with each other earlier?"

"Hida Yasu," the Crab smiled, "Good to be remembered."

"I'm Akodo Daniri!" the Lion said shocked, "The television and film star. Don't you know me?"

"I don't watch television," Hatsu said. The young Dragon surveyed the carnage of the audience chamber. Wounded and dead lay everywhere. Red-garbed Phoenix paramedics were just beginning to arrive and tend to the wounded. Ichiro Chiodo's corpse was carried away on a stretcher.

A tiny geisha in a tight red kimono stepped up to Daniri's side, and he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. "You're injured, Daniri!" she remarked, frowning at the blood streaming down his right arm.

"It doesn't hurt; I'm a professional," Daniri chuckled, "Besides, it's just a flesh wound."

"Kill me now before I am ill," said the Crane levelly, still kneeling and peering at the dead assassin's head, "I thought you Lions only spoke like that in your ridiculous movies."

"Oh, no," Daniri replied, "We're always this clever."

"What are you doing?" Hatsu asked, squatting next to the Crane and peering at the corpse. She had been prodding at the assassin's head with the end of her katana.

"Look at this," she said, "This one has one, too."

"The grey stuff is supposed to be in there, Crane," Daniri chuckled.

She sighed. "My name is Kamiko, not Crane, and I was not aware that everyone was supposed to have circuitry in their head." She glanced up at the Lion, her eyes cold and serious.

"Circuitry?" Hatsu said. He leaned closer, and could make out a small bit of silver metal protruding from what had once been the assassin's brain. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Kamiko replied. She gingerly seized the tiny implant between two fingers, pulling it loose from its moorings with an organic ripping sound. Kochiyo the geisha whimpered and hid her face in the Lion's coat. "It looks like some sort of miniature transmitter," she said, holding it up to the light. "Exactly the same as Chiodo had."

"Kamiko!" shouted a desperate voice as the doors to the audience chamber swung open, "Kamiko, where are you?" A grizzled older man stumbled into the room, glancing about nervously.

Kamiko stood, her shoulders dropping. "Jinwa, my personal guard and sensei. I lost him in the confusion. I must join him before my father begins to worry."

"And who is your father?" Daniri asked, smirking.

"Kakita Meda," she said pertly, "The Emerald Champion." She turned to Hatsu. "Please let me know how things turn out," she said, handing him the tiny piece of circuitry. "You can reach me through my father." The young girl smirked at the Lion, bowed at the Crab, and left.

The Otaku Battle Maidens, the crack units of the Unicorn Police had arrived in force, and had begun cordoning off all the exits and roping off the area. Hatsu noticed his superior, Captain Kojiro, entering with a pair of the armored maidens. Kojiro nodded to the young Dragon, and signaled Hatsu to join him.

"Let me have a look at that before you go, " Yasu said, pointing at the bloody piece of metal in Hatsu's hand. "My uncle Toshimo has a lab in the city. Maybe he can figure it out."

Hatsu arched one eyebrow. "Kaiu Toshimo?"

"That's him," Yasu replied.

Hatsu quickly handed over the circuit. Yasu opened up one of the many compartments on his chunky belt and carefully put it away.

"Kitsuki Hatsu, Shinjo Tower," Hatsu said, handing the Crab a card from his pocket, "Daniri, get that wound looked at."

The Dragon headed for his captain, and Yasu began looking for his uncle. Daniri stood alone with his geisha.

"You saved the Emperor!" Kochiyo smiled, grabbing his arm tightly. Her two bodyguards appeared nearby. One nodded at the Lion approvingly.

Daniri said nothing.

"Daniri?" she said, worried.

"Hm?" he said, wavering on his feet a bit, "I think I'm just a little tired. Maybe we should... go to a hospital or something..." One of the bodyguards took a step forward, ready to assist the Lion if he fell over.

"The paramedics--" Kochiyo began.

"They're busy," Daniri said, his face pale, "There are a lot of hurt people here. I can take care of myself. Let's go."

"Are you sure?" she asked, her concern apparent.

"Of course," he said seriously, "I'm an Akodo.

"This is Ikoma Keijura at the Scene of the Dojicorp Building, where an Imperial Visit has turned into a conflagration of death and destruction." The young reporter held one finger to his ear, and nervously gripped a microphone in his other hand. He had a splash blood on his finely pressed kimono, and he glanced about nervously as armored Shinjo Magistrates and red-suited Phoenix paramedics bearing stretchers rushed about behind him.

"Earlier today, this beautiful landmark, this monument to the serenity and peace of the Diamond City, exploded into chaos amid an apparently unsuccessful assassination attempt upon Emperor Yoritomo VI." The newsman stepped back as a pair of very serious looking Battle Maidens trucked past, their silver naginatas clicking on the floor.

"Details are sketchy at the present, but it is confirmed now that the Emperor has been safely returned to the Diamond Palace, and all of the conspirators were slain by the skilled efforts of Tsuruchi Kyo's Imperial Guard. As you can notice in this footage, several members of the Imperial Guard and other members of the Assembly were injured by the random gunfire, but casualty reports at the moment are sketchy at best." The scene switched to a blurry image of Ichiro Chiodo firing into the crowd before the camera fell to the floor and blacked out, knocked out of the cameraman's hands by a frightened Assembly member.

"Kyo?!?" Kamiko shouted, kicking the leg of the table, "What about me?? I killed one of those assassins myself! Self aggrandizing bastard."

Jinwa merely sat beside her on the cushioned floor and said nothing.

The screen flashed from the footage to Keijura back to the slick, middle aged anchorman sitting at his desk. "Any news on the peculiar announcement Emperor Yoritomo made prior to the tragedy? Or more details on the identity of the Imperial heir's wife-to-be?"

Keijura fidgeted and looked away, caught off guard by the strange question. "No, no," he said, "Everything's been pretty chaotic. A lot of wounded and dead. It's been about all we could do to keep our sanity around here. The Emperor and his son Kameru are alive and well; that's about all we know."

The anchorman chuckled. "Well, you just keep us updated, Keijura," he said, "I know a lot of the viewers are interested in knowing who the next Empress is going to be!"

"I will," Keijura replied vaguely, still holding his finger in his ear. He was gone from the screen.

"Off!" Kamiko commanded and the television went black. "Lion reporters. Fools. Idiots. Worrying about their hair when their head is on fire."

Jinwa shrugged noncommittally, and hid a small smile. It was rare that he agreed with the hotheaded young girl, and when he did he hated to admit it.

The doors to the small room burst open and the Emerald Champion strode in quickly, removing his heavy helmet and shaking loose his long white hair. Kamiko stood and ran across the room to him. "My daughter!" he exclaimed, tossing the ancient helmet aside to embrace his daughter. Jinwa stood respectfully and looked at a spot on the floor.

"Thank the Fortunes you are alive!" he said, burying his face in her long white hair, a small tear trickling down his cheek. "I would have found you sooner, but the Emperor--"

"I understand, father," Kamiko replied, hugging Meda in return. She pulled away and smiled brightly at him. "Father, I killed one of the Emperor's assassins!"

Meda's face dropped. His brow darkened. "Jinwa," he said, glancing at her guard, sensei, and servant, "Is this true?"

Jinwa only nodded, not meeting his master's eyes.

"Kamiko, this is inexcusable," Meda hissed, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Why would you do such a thing? For the daughter of--"

"The Emerald Champion?" she interrupted, "I thought it was entirely appropriate."

Meda turned and picked his helmet up from the floor, considering its deep green surface. "Your life is not your own to risk, my daughter," he said sternly, "You will yet be the death of me from your exploits."

"I would certainly have been the death of you if I hadn't killed that assassin."

Meda turned quickly, one armored finger pointed in his daughter's face, demanding silence. Kamiko's mouth closed with a click.

"Daughter you may be, but before you begin having delusions remember that the Emerald Champion is not a hereditary role. Your destiny has been decided and it lies in the House of Yoritomo."

"Father, Kameru is such a--"

"I will brook no more of your argument on this matter, daughter," Meda placed the helmet of the Champion on his head once more, his cold voice echoing within the metal shell. "You are a Crane and it is time you began acting like one." He met Kamiko's gaze. She looked away and quickly sat down.

"Jinwa," Meda said.

"Hai," the man said, quickly bowing.

"You are dismissed. Begone from my house. Further, for your failure to curb my daughter's disobedient tendencies and self-destructive behavior, you are forbidden seppuku."

"Hai," Jinwa replied, his voice cracking only slightly, still staring at the same point on the floor.

"Father!" Kamiko exclaimed.

"Perhaps your next teacher can set a better example, eh, daughter?" Meda said, ignoring his daughter's outburst. "For his sake, you should hope so, daughter. The next will not be so lucky as Jinwa."

Meda turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, Jinwa," Kamiko said gently, standing and placing her hand on his shoulder. He had been her teacher and protector since she was six years old. He knew her better than anyone else. He had been a better father to her than Doji Meda could ever have bothered to be, and in return she had done nothing but treated him as violently and disobediently as she would have her father, if given the chance.

Jinwa shrugged away her hand. He wiped something away from his reddened eyes and quietly left the room, closing the door gently.

Kamiko was alone. Again. Now it was official.

She sat heavily on the low couch in the corner, blinking at nothing for awhile, taking in what had happened. To be so high and so low in one day. Kamiko smiled. She was never one to allow defeat. She turned and began tapping at the console of the small laptop computer on the endtable.

When Kamiko had been twelve years old, Jinwa and her father had come to her and given her a choice of schools - the Doji or the Kakita. The life of a politician appealed little to her even then, so she chose the Kakita, hoping for a chance to learn the sword. She had, to her surprise, been enrolled in the Kakita Programming School rather than the Dueling Academy.

The computer hummed happily. "Welcome to Dojicorp Financial, Doji Meda!" it said. Kamiko smirked.

Life often disappointed her, but Kamiko never, ever wasted her time.

"So what is it?" Yasu asked.

Yasu leaned forward on the edge of the counter, shifting uncomfortably. The pure white cleanliness of the lab, contrasted with the constant noise of humming machinery, bubbling chemicals, and bustling jabbering technicians always disturbed Yasu. It made him want to start breaking things just to see what happened.

To make things even more uncomfortable for him, he had been stripped of his weapons and armor upon entering. Uncle Toshimo had dozens of experiments in progress at any time, and knew that the multitude of electronic systems and gadgets in the young man's armor might interfere with them disastrously. If anyone would know, it would be Toshimo, since he built most of the mostly untested and sometimes unstable weaponry and devices in Yasu's armor.

Toshimo leaned over a large microscope, still studying the bloody fragment of circuitry. Yasu thought he might not have heard, and was about to ask again. "Not sure," Toshimo said finally. "It's very advanced, and very badly damaged. Parts of it elude me entirely, but most of it looks like it is indeed a transmitting device, as your Crane friend said. Shosuro microcircuitry. Very top of the line."

"So the Scorpions are behind this?" Yasu growled, clenching his fist and grinding his teeth.

Toshimo chuckled. "Calm yourself, nephew," he smiled, "So much like your mother. These circuits are indeed rare and difficult to obtain, but while built by the Scorpion they are hardly exclusive to them. Anyone with money could obtain them. Besides, it would hardly be logical for the Scorpions to leave such a calling card. They're more subtle than that, and would have no reason I could see to kill the Emperor."

Yasu thought about this for a moment, and reluctantly nodded. "So what do we do," he growled, leaning back in the little metal lab chair and grabbing the counter with one hand to prevent himself falling over. He always hated this part. He'd get all ready to go out and bash some heads and then run out of heads to bash. He'd end up having to stop and think.

He'd just have to learn... patience.

Toshimo, as usual, took a long time to answer, regarding the microscope again for several moments. "This is a very strange animal, indeed, Yasu. Call your Kitsuki friend and tell him what I have found, but ask him if I can hold on to it a few more days, run a few special tests. I'd like to call in the Masters on this."

Yasu nodded and stood.

"Oh, and Yasu?"

"Yes, Uncle Toshimo-sama?"

"Go Downtown and blow off some steam."

Yasu smiled dangerously, bowed to his uncle, and left. Toshimo chuckled and pitied the goblins this night.

Hatsu stepped into the offices of Shinjo Tower. He was a little winded after walking up the stairs, but the exercise felt good after his prolonged discussions with Kyo and the rest of the Imperial Guard. Before they had allowed him to return to the station, Kyo's flunkies had questioned him endlessly. They seemed endlessly curious about how Hatsu had managed to notice the assassins, and how he had failed to shoot them. He had explained at some length that he did not carry a firearm, was not required to carry one, and did not intend to ever begin carrying one. They seemed unsatisfied, and at several points their unflagging suspicions made Hatsu believe they were about to accuse him of being a conspirator.

But now he was home. In the offices where he breathed and lived. Well, he didn't dwell here, to be truthful, but his real home was just somewhere he slept. Most people had a job they were good at, but Hatsu lived and breathed detective work. Some considered his intensity odd and irrational, but without such a drive to focus his life Hatsu didn't know what he would do.

"Lovely, Hatsu," smiled Shinjo Chikafusa, as the detective walked in, "You party with the Emperor all evening and leave me to deal with your messages. You got seven phone calls while you were gone. Here, I wrote them down. Anyway, I didn't even know you knew how to use the phone. You caveman."

Hatsu grinned. His lack of dependence on technology had made him the target of a lot of friendly mocking around the station. "I get by," he said, "Usually, I just hold the receiver and let one of you Unicorns dial for me."

Chikafusa laughed, his round face breaking easily into smile. He sorted through the mass of paperwork on his desk and handed the young detective a snatch of pink scraps of paper. Hatsu sorted through them on the way to his office. No one ever called him. Now seven people. Odd.

The first was from Doji Kamiko, leaving her name and phone number so he could call her back "as soon as he knew anything."

The second was from KTSU studios. Strange. Apparently they wanted to invite him to some sort of dinner or other tomorrow night. Whatever. He wondered how they had found his name.

The third was from Kojiro. He was apparently still being held up at the Dojicorp Building by massive amounts of paperwork, but he wanted Hatsu to get to work as soon as he could, finding out where those assassins came from. That was good for Kojiro. He liked paperwork. He would be complaining immensely, but enjoying himself.

The fourth was from Hida Yasu. Apparently those circuits from the assassins skull were Shosuro. Odd.

The fifth message was from Kamiko. Again. She certainly was persistent. Either that or very, very bored. Maybe both? Hatsu shook his head.

The sixth was from Kentaika, the coroner. Apparently, electronic devices such as the one Kamiko had discovered in the assassin's heads had also been found in every member of the Doji House Guard that had been guarding the door, the twenty that had killed themselves. Shosoro microcircuitry. Hatsu knew a lead he could follow on that. It was weak, but it was all he had.

"Where's the seventh message?" Hatsu asked Chikafusa, turning at the door to his office.

"The what now?" Chikafusa replied over his coffee.

"You said there were seven messages. I only have six here."

"Oh, yeah," he replied, nodding, "It was from your partner."

"I don't have a partner," Hatsu said, "People don't like me."

"Apparently they do now," Chikafusa said. "She's waiting in your office."

Hatsu blinked and turned quickly, throwing open the door to his office. If anything had been disturbed...

"Hey!" shouted a voice from behind, as a hand struck his shoulder from behind.

The blow was not a forceful one, but he reacted instinctively, rolling with the impact somersaulting over his desk, into his chair, and rolling back against the wall with the momentum, hands gripping the hilts of his daisho.

"A bit jumpy today, aren't we Kitsuki?" the girl said mockingly, putting one hand on her hip. She was tall and thin, and wore the shiny purple body armor of the Battle Maidens. She leaned against the wall behind the door and held her hand to her mouth to cover a smile.

"I am sorry, samurai-ko," Hatsu said, standing stiffly and bowing slightly, "It has been a difficult day; I suppose I am a little jumpy." He glanced around his small, sparse office. The furniture was in its traditional arrangement, channeling the positive energies of the room. The ancient ink drawings still held their customary places on the wall. Nothing had been disturbed. Except the fan. The fan had been moved. Hatsu stood and walked over to the small the filing cabinet, adjusting the tiny green war fan atop the cabinet back into its position.

The Maiden shifted her weight to one foot, propping her other foot on the wall and folding her arms. She bowed only slightly and without changing her posture. "My name is Otaku Sachiko," she said, "I've been assigned your new partner."

"Konichiwa, Sachiko-chan," Hatsu said nervously, "I am Kitsuki Hatsu." He bowed, briefly and stiffly.

"That's a beautiful tessen," she said, leaning back against the wall.

Hatsu nodded. "Thank you. It was my mother's." He regarded the small fan; a dragon and a spider decorated its surface in black and red, entwined in eternal combat.

Sachiko broke the silence, snapping Hatsu back to reality. "You're the one who broke the Bayushi Kenburo D Milk ring aren't you?" she asked, her green eyes flashing, "The rookie?"

Hatsu searched for his words. He was not talkative around strangers by nature -- unless he was questioning them -- and was even more shy around women. "Hai," he replied.

"Impressive," the Battle Maiden replied with a grin, "You really stuck it to those Scorpions."

"Justice was done and that was enough," he said simply, "Kenburo's crimes were his own fault, not the Scorpion clan." He brushed a mote of nonexistent dust from the tessen's edge and turned back to his desk. "So you are to be my new partner?" he asked, attempting to smile politely.

"That's what they tell me," she said, seating herself in one of the small chairs and kicking a booted foot on the desk. Hatsu blinked at her foot. "After the whole deal with the Emperor today, apparently the boys upstairs decided you could use a little backup. That's me."

Hatsu smiled slightly. He moved to the window. The small, window, the only window, and the only reason he had chosen this office. He looked out over the night lights of Otosan Uchi. "I often work alone," he said, "but I will appreciate your assistance."

"Well, that was formal," Sachiko chuckled, "I feel so welcome now."

"I am not used to working with others," he said, "but in this case, the Emperor's life is at stake. My desires are secondary."

"Do you always talk like this?" she smirked, smoothing her long black ponytail over her shoulder with one hand.

Hatsu shrugged awkwardly. He often had difficulty holding conversations. His mind was always somewhere, thinking about something. Right then, he had been sidetracking into thinking about the Shosuro microcircuitry. He was about to reply to Sachiko's question, but then it happened.

His eyes burned away a shadow that had not cloaked them, and he was blinded by a light he did not see. With the light came the sense of shadow, longing, sudden irresistible compulsion to fight it, to face it, to go... somewhere. It was worse than before. Worse than ever before. He knew not what was to come but he knew it would be terrible. He would have to follow up his lead tonight, right now, before his premonition came true. As they always did.

"Are you all right?" Sachiko asked, a concerned look in her eyes.

Hatsu met her gaze, suddenly serious. "I felt a darkness tonight. Something evil is coming."

She chuckled. "Just like Togashi in the storybooks. Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"It is dangerous out tonight," he replied, "You should probably--" he stopped himself. The Battle Maiden had stopped smiling, and the muscles in her body had suddenly gone stiff. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"I should probably-- what?" she asked with forced sweetness, "If you think that an Otaku Battle Maiden is incapable of taking care of herself, Kitsuki, I would be more than glad to prove you wrong." She made a fist of her right hand and cracked the knuckles, her left hand resting on her hip.

"I am stupid," Hatsu replied.

Sachiko was momentarily stunned. "What?" she replied.

"I am stupid," Hatsu smiled awkwardly, "It is the only excuse I can make. I have much on my mind tonight and I simply wasn't thinking. Of course on a night such as this I should be proud to have a Battle Maiden by my side."

She smiled despite herself. "Well, all right. My motorcycle is in the garage. Follow me." She hopped up from the chair and quickly trotted out of the office; Hatsu followed a step behind and cursed himself for his stupidity. He tried not to stare at the girl as she walked, but as a Kitsuki he tended to notice everything and in this case such was not a blessing.

"So what are we looking for, Kitsuki?" she asked as she approached the elevator.

"Bayushi's Labyrinth," he replied "I need to ask the Scorpions a few questions."

Hatsu faltered at the door of the elevator. "Um... I'll meet you in the garage. I'll take the stairs."

Sachiko laughed. "It's forty flights, Hatsu."

"Thirty-nine," Hatsu said, "I won't be long. I... don't like machines." The young detective turned and walked toward the stairs, his long green trenchcoat swirling out behind him.

Sachiko stared blankly. "He's a little strange," Chikafusa said, stepping up beside her, "but you get used to him after awhile." The magistrate smiled. "Good luck getting him on your motorcycle, by the way. I'd like to see that."

Sachiko stepped into the elevator, shaking her head.

The garage was low and dark, fluttering slightly with fluorescent light. Along one wall numerous squad cars and vans were parked. Along the other wall were a row of gleaming malevolent purple beasts. The famous Otaku Motorcycles. Only the Battle Maidens ever drove them and it was rumored only the Battle Maidens could. Sachiko waited by a row of lockers with two helmets. One was plain black and unadorned, the other was sleek, and aerodynamic, matching her armor in color and material, with a sharp white horn sticking straight out from the forehead.

Hatsu emerged from the stairwell, breathing heavily. "Hi," he said, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

Sachiko glanced from the door to Hatsu. "That was fast, Dragon." She handed him the black helmet and moved quickly toward her cycle, circling around it and looking it over to ensure that all was in order. The motorcycles were big and sleek. They looked incredibly fast and incredibly dangerous. Hatsu took a step back and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

"You don't have a problem with the motorcycle, do you?" she asked, swinging one leg over the large machine and seating herself.

"I tend to walk or take taxis most of the time. ," Hatsu said, swallowing nervously, "I have never been on a motorcycle."

Sachiko turned and grinned impishly, strapping on her helmet. "Then you've never lived."

Kameru stood against the wall, studying the patterns on the ceiling. Frescoes stretched across the plaster surface, depicting the birth of the kami, the creation of mankind, and the great tournament that coronated Hantei as the first Emperor of Rokugan two thousand years ago.

He hated this room. His father had always brought him to this room to speak to him. Whatever he had done, no matter the reason, he was always brought to this room to speak with his father. When he graduated from bushi school at the top of his class, his father brought him here to congratulate him. When he was expelled from grammar school for fighting, his father brought him here to chastise him. The good memories, the bad memories, none of them mattered. They all served to remind him that his father was the Emperor, and had no time for him.

Across the room, Ryosei sat on a small, velvet chair. She held a paperback novel folded over in one hand, reading quietly. Her dark black hair was pulled into a thick bun and pinned up, and her high necked, dark green kimono shimmered dully. She glanced up at her brother, smiled primly, went back to reading.

Kameru leaned on the wall for a few more minutes, tracing out the fall of Bayushi on the ceiling. He knew every line of every painting, every stroke, from waiting for his father. He shrugged away from the wall. "I'm sick of waiting for him, Ryosei," he said.

Ryosei looked up, slightly shocked. Thunder rolled in the distance. She opened her mouth to say something, and the door opened.

Both of the Emperor's children turned and bowed to their father, the Son of Storms. Yoritomo VI still wore his armor, but his thick insectoid helmet was tucked under one arm. His dark eyes held the room, taking in everything and nothing. While Kameru was short and thick, his father was tall and muscular, with black hair streaming to his waist.

"Greetings, my children," he said, "I am glad to see you."

"Hello, father," Ryosei smiled, closing her book and tucking it under her arm.

Kameru only nodded.

"I am pleased to find that you are unhurt," he said, striding toward the large marble desk at the opposite end of the room. He circled the desk and sat, placing his helmet on the edge. He turned and looked from Ryosei to Kameru. "What would you have of me, my children?"

Ryosei stood, and looked nervously at her brother. Kameru nodded to her. "Father," she said quietly, "We wanted to talk to you about earlier today..."

"What of it?" Yoritomo asked, leaning on the desk, not blinking.

"Father, are you all right?" Ryosei asked.

Yoritomo said nothing.

"After the assassination attempt, I mean," she glanced at the ceiling then back at her father, her arms crossed before her at the wrist. "It was very frightening."

Yoritomo smiled, slightly. Only Ryosei could make him smile. "Be at ease, my daughter. Those men were merely cowards. Cowards cannot harm men of honor, and the gods themselves forbid such scum from laying hand on an Emperor. I understand your concern, Ryosei. I am all right."

Ryosei nodded, and let out a long, relieved sigh. Kameru just shifted and glanced about the room.

"Is there anything else?" Yoritomo asked.

"Yes," Ryosei said, "I meant to ask you about the announcement you made right before the... before."

Yoritomo nodded. "You fear the coming war," he said, "Fear not, my daughter. Rokugan is supreme among nations. The gods themselves have given us their favor. How can we fail?"

Ryosei averted her eyes downward. "But father, the whole world..."

"Daughter, I am no fool," Yoritomo chuckled, a brittle laughter without humor. "We would not declare war upon the entire world if we did not think we could win."

"What does that mean?" Kameru asked. It always scared him when his father referred to himself in the plural.

"My son, sometimes you forget that you are not Emperor yet," Yoritomo said simply.

The room was silent for several moments.

The doors opened an a tall, older man in the dark grey uniform of an Emerald Magistrate stepped into the room, bowing low to the Emperor. He glanced from Kameru to Ryosei, then back to Yoritomo.

"Greetings, Tetsugi," the Emperor said, "We are glad you have come. We have much to discuss."

The man nodded and approached the Emperor's desk.

"Is that it?" Kameru asked, "Is that all you will say, Father?"

"Yes, that is all," Yoritomo replied. "Your father I may be but we are also your Emperor. As your father, I love you. As your Emperor, you are nothing in our plans. Now if the both of you will excuse me, we have much to do."

Ryosei and Kameru quietly left the room. Nothing further was said. The brother and sister walked in silence aside each other. The large doors to the Emperor's offices closed with a hollow boom.

"I just wish he'd listen," Ryosei said finally, her voice choked. "What he's trying to do, it's... its'..."

"The Emperor has spoken," Kameru said coldly, looking straight ahead as he marched.

"What?" Ryosei exclaimed, "But, Kameru, I thought that you..." "I doubted my father's actions," Kameru replied, still looking straight ahead, "And I still do. But I will not betray my Emperor." He turned his head quickly, his short braid snapping. "I hope you feel the same way, sister."

Ryosei said nothing. She stopped, stunned by the sudden mad intensity in her brother's eyes. Kameru kept walking, leaving Ryosei alone in the halls of the Imperial Palace.

"You have never truly lived until you are about to die."

The original Togashi had said that. Sachiko had told him he åhad never truly lived,' and as he held to her waist and closed his eyes, the city blurring past at breakneck speed, he supposed she had been paraphrasing that quote. The cycle screamed over the highways of Otosan Uchi, sliding around the traffic and taking the sharp turns with almost no reduction in speed.

The architecture of the city did not help. Fifty years ago, the population of Otosan Uchi had begun to exceed the city's ability to safely maintain its own traffic. Kaiu architects were called upon to solve the problem. Their answer was a simple one - they created multi-tiered highways. The highways rose several layers above the surface of the city, supporting themselves by attachment to the massive, ancient, and nearly indestructible edifices of the city. Rumor had it that the Phoenix Clan added their own touch to the Kaiu craftsmanship, using long forgotten magics to support the streets without visible means. Hatsu tried hard to concentrate on all of this as he screamed around a corner on eight hundred pounds of metal one hundred feet above the ground. It helped.

To her credit, Sachiko was an expert rider. She didn't know why the detective was so nervous. After all, she was among the very best in the Battle Maidens, perhaps the best ever. In her own mind she was, at least, and one day she would prove it to everyone else.

She shifted her weight, dodged between two large trucks, and pulled in front of a speeding black sports car. The car's driver began to accelerate to keep pace with her, but dropped off when he noticed the flapping green magistrate banner on the back of the cycle. She grinned. She ruled the road.

"How are you doing back there, Kitsuki?" she asked through the radio in her helmet.  "If I didn't know better," he replied dryly, "I'd say you were driving this way on purpose."

"Now why would you do that?" she swerved, changing lanes between another large truck and a bus, which honked at her frenziedly. Hatsu could have reached out and touched either vehicle without stretching or even shifting his weight. "Careful, Kitsuki," Sachiko said, "If you grab me much tighter I won't be able to breathe."

The purple cycle cruised steadily along. As they gained height along the multi-tiered ramps, Hatsu pushed away his nauseous fear enough to marvel at the spectacles of Otosan Uchi. The towers of the Imperial Palace reached to the very sky itself, the tallest nearly two kilometers high. The majestic spires of the Dojicorp skyscraper rivaled the palace itself, shorter but much brighter; its walls of blue glass sparkled in the moonlight. Nearer, the dark red pinnacles of the Shosuro glowed with the red neon mon of the Scorpion, and in the distance the golden Lion Towers stood their vigil over the restless sea.

"Turn off at the next exit," Hatsu pointed.

"You should have went before we left," Sachiko laughed.

"If I'd had anything in my bladder this ride certainly would have emptied it," he replied, "This is the exit to Bayushi's Labyrinth."

"I know," she laughed, "I know the city like I know myself. I was just kidding, Dragon." She turned onto the exit, entering the long spiraling ramp that led back to the earth's surface. The motorcycle glided through the dark streets with a slow but steady pace, rumbling gently. The highways overhead threw a cloak of gloom over the area, punctuated here and there by bright neon signs. The signs advertised sake, geisha, and all variety of other sordid entertainments, and most if not all of them also advertised a particular red neon clan mon.

"A Scorpion Quarter," Sachiko said at the sight of it, "You've been here before, Kitsuki?"

Hatsu said nothing. The bike slid into a dark tunnel. The blue-white fluorescent lights flashed past dimly as the single headlight cast a cone of golden light ahead. The traffic was nonexistent. In this neighborhood, at this time of night, the traffic was nonexistent. The legitimate businesses were closed. The Scorpions conducted their business at night. Anyone out was either shirking their duties, or an outsider. Neither were well looked upon here.

The tunnel veered right, spat the Otaku cycle into a large, natural cavern chamber. A gigantic neon scorpion blared fuzzy crimson light. The Scorpion's tail switched back and forth, carving "Bayushi's Labyrinth" in neon as it went. The cycle cruised under the sign and passed into the amusement park.

As always, the park was dark. Darker than usual now, since it was closed. The serpentine rollercoasters lay unmoving and dormant. The massive, web-like ferris wheel loomed on the horizon, still. The mocking faces of the multi-story funhouses leered over the tall black metal fence. Sachiko slowed her cycle, pulling up to the park entrance. A giant mask loomed over them, two large doors opening where the mouth would be.

"So where to now?" Sachiko asked.

Hatsu pointed to a small building bordering the parking lot. A sign hung above the door that read "Office. Employees Only."

"Is anyone still here at this time of night?" the Maiden asked, pulling of her helmet and shaking out her ponytail.

"Oroki is always here," Hatsu replied.

"Oroki?" she asked, "Bayushi Oroki? The daimyo's son? This might not be a good idea. Maybe I should go in alone."

"No," Hatsu replied, stepping off the motorcycle and straightening the daisho on his belt, "I can handle Oroki."

The office was, in a word, beautiful. He had it decorated to his rather exacting specifications, and the theme was reflection. From floor to ceiling, the office was covered entirely in mirrors, mirrors tiled and bent in odd patterns to create all matter of distortion and reflection. One could never tell exactly how large the office was, or how far you were from what. Even the back of the door was covered in mirrors to match exactly into the pattern. The only furniture visible was a large silver desk, the plush black leather chair behind it, and two simple black metal chairs before it. The arrangement of the furniture frequently changed relative to the door, and visitors were never sure exactly where they stood.

Which was just fine with Bayushi Oroki.

Oroki was the son of Bayushi Kogeiru, the daimyo. He was the Shiro, the fourth oldest son. As such, he was often ignored by his father and brothers in political matters, and the public as a whole considered him mostly insignificant.

Which suited his needs perfectly.

Oroki's natural talent for business (both legitimate and otherwise) was unparalleled. The fact that he was ignored merely meant that he was underestimated and he couldn't think of a thing he'd rather be. While his family bickered and argued how to manage their affairs under the unpredictable new Emperor, he simply got to work assembling the most profitable secret criminal organizations in recent history.

Well, admittedly this was his second attempt. His first stab at the market had drawn some unfortunate attention from the authorities. Not a setback at all, in his mind, and one more potential competitor out of the way.

Oroki leaned back in the thick leather chair, clasped his hands behind his head, and rested his black gaijin-style boots on the desk. He regarded his reflection in the ceiling. It had been a busy day, and finally some time to himself. Oroki was deceptively small man, lean but solidly muscled. Today he wore a sleek black business suit with a red pinstripe necktie that matched the silk ribbon holding his thick black braid of hair. His face was handsome, but like all Scorpions, he kept in concealed. His mask was fine porcelain, painted red, with a black Scorpion coiled over his mouth, its tail winding between his eyes.

Oroki glanced at the door a moment before it opened. An extremely muscular man in a black suit and a rubber elephant mask entered and bowed.

"Yes, Zou?" Oroki questioned politely.

"Oroki-sama," the bodyguard answered gruffly, "There are two magistrates here to see you. The Battle Maiden is a stranger but the Kitsuki is the one who arrested your brother, Kenburo. They have no warrant. Shall I send them away?"

"Whatever do they want?" Oroki asked, sitting up in interest.

"To talk, they claim," Zou replied.

Oroki laughed. Zou shifted slightly, obviously uncomfortable. Oroki never understood why his associates and yojimbo feared magistrates so. They made things so interesting. Without an opponent, one could hardly play the game!

"Send them in," he said.

Zou obediently exited, returning briefly with the two. The Battle Maiden was young, pretty, and held herself with an insufferable arrogance in the way of all Battle Maidens Oroki had met. He liked her straight off. The Kitsuki on the other hand, drew an open scowl from behind his mask. It had been months since Kenburo's execution. Since then, Oroki had worked tirelessly to find leverage to blackmail the clever young Dragon. But all for naught. Soon, he'd have to resort to making something up, and that was just boring. Zou took up a quiet post before the door, closing it behind them.

"Magistrates, welcome," Oroki said amiably, standing and bowing deeply. The Dragon returned the bow but the Unicorn merely nodded.

"Bayushi Oroki, owner and moderator of Bayushi's Labyrinth," Hatsu introduced.

Oroki nodded to the maiden again. "May I offer you some sake? Or something stronger?" He flipped open a mirror on the wall behind him, revealing a small bar stocked with all variety of Rokugani and gaijin liquors.

"We are on duty," the Maiden said coldly.

Oroki poured himself a cup and laughed. "I can keep a secret," he said.

"I'm sure," she replied, seating herself in one of the chairs and folding her hands in her lap.

Oroki frowned behind his mask, without changing his posture. Hatsu was standing in the center of the office, looking about at everything, noting the odd patterns and curves of the mirrors. He was certain the Dragon would never discern the doors leading to the secret passages, but he knew firsthand of the Kitsuki's legendary perception skills. He would require a distraction.

"You did not tell me your names," he said, aiming his comment toward the Dragon, "But you are Kitsuki Hatsu, no?"

"Yes," Hatsu replied, giving the Scorpion a quick look, "This is my partner, Otaku Sachiko. I suppose I must have assumed you would know of me from your brother's arrest."

Oroki paused. "Unfortunate," he said carefully. "My brother was... clumsy. To so entangle himself so blatantly in the sordid world of crime. But enough bad memories. Is there some matter of import you would like to discuss with me? I am very busy."

"Scorpions are masters of secrets, and I hope that you could share one with me," he said.

Oroki's mind was washed with waves of anticipation and suspicion, but he kept his voice untouched. "A secret? A secret can only be borne by one man, but I am always willing to share."

"An attempt was made upon the Emperor's life today," Hatsu said, staring suddenly into the Scorpion's eyes. Oroki found the detective's gaze most unsettling. "The assassins were an odd group, none of them with any motive to kill the Emperor, some of them were even members of the esteemed Doji House Guard. All of them had implants of Shosuro microcircuitry in their heads."

"Excuse me?" Oroki said. He had seldom been confused in his life, but he was now. He wasn't sure if the Kitsuki was threatening him, goading him, warning him, or merely babbling. "That's ridiculous. Circuitry in their heads?"

"It is strange, but it is the truth," Hatsu said, "Why would this be so?"

Oroki shook his head, irritated. He'd hoped to find a way to manipulate this detective, but instead had only succeeded in discovering he was entirely insane. "The Scorpions are loyal to the Empire. Is this some sort of perverse attempt at an accusation?" he asked.

"We do not accuse," Sachiko said flatly, her green eyes flashing, "When we find you guilty of a crime, you will have three seconds to wonder my intent."

"Two seconds too long," Oroki chuckled, "If I were to be proven guilty by the likes of you, girl, I would surely kill myself in shame."

Hatsu groaned. He darted forward barely in time to grab Sachiko and halt her murderous lunge across Oroki's desk. Zou suddenly flashed to Oroki's side, his hand in his jacket. Oroki sat and stared back at the Battle Maiden calmly. He hadn't flinched.

She struggled in Hatsu's grasp and pounded a fist on the Scorpion's desk. "Are you trying to call me a fool?"

"I merely imply my innocence," Oroki replied coolly, "Unless you have proof of some crime I have committed, the only one proving your foolishness in this office is yourself."

"Why you!" she snarled, but Hatsu pulled one of her arms behind her back and held it firmly. The Kitsuki's eyes were on the Scorpion's yojimbo, whose hand had not left his jacket.

"Excuse me," Oroki said in irritated emphasis, "But I was discussing a matter of some import with Detective Hatsu. I believe you are distracting us. Keep your temper in check, Maiden, my yojimbo is a nervous man and I would hate to see a miscarriage of justice occur here tonight."

"Sachiko, let it go," Hatsu said softly into her ear, "You're only encouraging him."

She relaxed, and drew back. She stood behind her chair, still glaring at the Scorpion.

"Where were we?" Oroki asked primly, booting his feet onto the desk again, "Oh yes, you were flooding me with your arcane accusations. Brain circuitry? Pray continue with any important matters you may have to discuss, or if you have naught but Dragon gibberish to share with me, you can save yourself the time and just leave." Oroki drank deeply from his cup. Oroki congratulated himself inwardly. The outburst he had drawn from the Battle Maiden had distracted Hatsu's observation of the office before he had managed to notice the secret door on the western wall. And he had managed to make himself appear utterly intractable and uncooperative.

"I guess we'll leave," Hatsu said arching an eyebrow and glancing at the western wall. "But a word of advice. This is only the beginning, I promise you. Whoever tried to kill the Emperor will do so again, and perhaps will not stop there. They can be anywhere, Oroki. Anyone. Shosuro circuitry is somehow involved. The Scorpions' eyes and ears are everywhere. Perhaps you can use that knowledge for good, for once, and find the source of this. Do so for your own survival if not that of Rokugan."

"Leave," Oroki said simply, still thinking about the western door. He cursed the Kitsuki's eyes.

Sachiko grumbled turning toward the door. A thousand Sachiko's followed on every wall. "Come Kitsuki, lets go somewhere less... reflective."

The two magistrates turned and left. Hatsu found the way out unerringly, ignoring the funhouse distortions of the walls. Oroki was disappointed. It always amused him when Zou had to show them the way out. The bodyguard silently stood behind Oroki and waited for his master to dismiss him.

"Oh, Zou," Oroki chuckled, "My beautiful office does not fit the exacting standards of a Unicorn cycle-slut. Whatever should I do? Order some purple wall paper immediately!"

Zou chuckled. He circled the desk and sat in one of the chairs before Oroki. "You are in a most unusual mood, sir. May I ask?"

"Ah, secrets, of course!" Oroki replied, pouring a drink for his bodyguard. "Secrets of course! An enemy came to my own home looking for mine and instead he gave away his own. A better night I could not imagine."

"The Kitsuki?" Zou asked, taking the cup and sipping, "I saw him reveal nothing, master."

"I know, Zou, and I forgive you. But that, of course, is why I am the master" Oroki laughed again, holding his cup up in a toast to the large man. Zou nodded and held up his own cup. "One's secrets are not always one's own to know and even the Dragon does not know this one."

Zou drank his cup and thought in silence for a moment. "I confess, I am confused, master," he said. He placed the cup carefully back in the bar, rinsing it out in the sink.

"The Battle Maiden," Oroki said, standing and walking toward one wall to stare at his own distorted mask, "I saw the way she looked at him. She is fond of the man, and doesn't even realize it. In time, their attachment will grow. In fact, we shall see to it."

"Why, master?" Zou asked, "What would you have to gain of this?"

"I was sadly unable to find anything to blackmail Hatsu for after what he did to Kenburo and my cartel. His record is despicably clean. A magistrate from a family of magistrates, all of them honest and virtuous. His mother stuck out, a bit, but for her lack of a past rather than any particular exploits. Unusable."

Oroki finished his sake and handed the cup to Zou, who put it away and closed the bar. "But this Maiden," he continued, "She is brash, tempestuous. Someone like her... she has much to prove, and something to hide. I will know what it is. And through this, we shall destroy Kitsuki Hatsu. See to this, Zou, my friend."

"Immediately, sir."

"Well that was a waste of time," Sachiko grumbled, snatching her helmet from the back of her cycle, "We didn't find out anything."

"I guess not," Hatsu said, looking at nothing, "I though for sure that he'd know something, especially after my vision. I've never had one that was wrong before."

"It's okay, Kitsuki," she said, laying a hand on his shoulder, "It happens to the best of us. Nobody knows everything."

"I suppose you are right," he said, looking up at her, "So what do we do now?"

"Well, I'm off duty in a ten minutes," she grinned, "And that means you are too." She took her helmet from the trunk of her bike and strapped it onto her head.

"Hmm," Hatsu replied, "I don't suppose you could drop me off at my apartment?"

"No," she replied, the mic on her helmet clicking as she spoke.

"What?" Hatsu stuttered.

"Coffee," she said simply, "The gaijin's greatest gift to Rokugan. My treat." She swung her leg over the cycle and flared up the motor with a twist of the handlebars. "After what you've been through today, you deserve it, Kitsuki. Or is coffee too high-tech for you?"

"No, no," Hatsu laughed, "Coffee is fine. In fact, that sounds like a very good idea." He donned his black helmet and mounted the cycle behind her.

"Coffee, and maybe something stronger," she added. The cycle roared and sped off into the tunnel, bound for the highway.

The park was silent at this time of night, but not everyone had gone home. Some, like Oroki, worked late. Bayushi's Labyrinth was not just an amusement park, but a great entertainment center. It featured restaurants, theaters, and even a few sake houses. One such sake house, The Parlor, was critically acclaimed as one of the finest in Otosan Uchi.

As the roar of the Otaku cycle faded into the distance, the grand doors of The Parlor opened and a small woman emerged, wearing a long, unadorned beige coat. She looked to her left and right as the doors swung closed once more. She turned to the right and began walking down the sidewalk with an unhurried pace. It was late for a woman to be out by herself, but this was no ordinary woman. This was Hachami, one the finest geisha in Oroki's Palace. She knew her training would serve to protect her well, as would the invisible eyes of Bayushi Oroki's servants.

The Scorpion on the rollercoaster track, Soshi Zanjin, was indeed keeping a close eye on his master's investment, fully prepared to do whatever necessary to protect her. Zanjin adjusted the focus on his binoculars and stepped off the track to the roof of the nearby funhouse, steadying the gun on his hip with one hand. These patrols were just a waste of time. No one was foolish enough to attack a Scorpion in their own territory. Zanjin often prayed that something interesting would happen.

Suddenly his prayers were answered. Soshi Zanjin had no time to scream. A pair of shattered binoculars toppled into the alley below, landing in the dumpster.

Hachami continued walking, thinking of the days ahead, completely untroubled by the present. She might make mention of her to his father. Dare she dream Bayushi Kogeiru may even make mention of her in the Emperor's Court? No, such was silly. Her thoughts drifted back to one of her many clients. She thought of the handsome young Phoenix who had given her such a pretty bracelet. The Crab who had sung to her -- who would imagine such a voice in a Crab? The old Lion who had been so sad. She hoped he would visit again soon. She felt so sorry for him. She thought of the beautiful flower arrangement Zou had sent her today and wondered when he would visit again. He had been visiting her for awhile and she hoped something interesting would happen soon.

She turned the corner and something did happen.

Unlike Zanjin, Hachami had time to scream. Once.

Daidoji Tamami walked quickly down the halls of the fiftieth floor of the Dojicorp Building. She straightened her tie and nodded to her fellow executives as she walked, a forced smile on her face. Tamami had been newly promoted to the executive level - she didn't know everyone's names yet and she lacked confidence that she could carry out her new responsibilities as Marketing Coordinator. But one thing, she was certain of. One part of her new position made all the work worthwhile. She drew the white plastic card from her pocket and slid it through a sensor on the wall.

Twin white doors slid silently open before her; the smell of greenery washed over her, accompanied by the serene song of a trickling brook. Tamami closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and stepped into the Fantastic Gardens.

The Gardens had been an unimaginable expense for the corporation. The very idea of installing a gigantic botanical garden inside the office building had seemed laughable to many, but to the Crane Clan, it was a matter of honor. The Crane's connection to the peace and serenity of nature was an important one, and thus no expense was too great to maintain a connection to their past.

The Gardens were, true to their name, Fantastic. Exposed to the open air, arranged on multiple tiers, they filled more space in the Dojicorp Building than most small office buildings would occupy. Rare flora and fauna from across Rokugan and around the world were brought to the gardens, carefully tended by the famed Kakita ikebana masters, and looked after by the holy men of the Asahina.

Tamami paused and looked about her. Even late at night, the Gardens were breathtaking. Waxy green leaves as big as a saucers gleamed silver in the moonlight. A chorus of crickets kept time with the melancholy song of an unseen priest. A young deer looked up at Tamami, curious but without fear.

She came back to herself. Her break would be over soon; she could not afford to waste time. She stepped onto the clean white cobbled path and followed it until she reached a clearing. The path was bridged by a row of tiny torii arches, bordered on one side by a row of small prayer chambers and on the other by a bubbling stream.

Tamami knelt under the first prayer arch and bowed her head in prayer. She thanked the Fortunes for her promotion. She prayed for her sister, wishing her luck in her betrothal. She prayed for her dog, who had seemed ill that morning. She prayed for her mother and for her father, hoping that she would make them proud. She prayed that she would not fail in her duties to the clan and the corporation. She had finally begun to pray for herself, when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

Tamami's head rose, and she looked up at the face of a smiling, elderly man. He wore the voluminous blue robes of an Asahina priest, punctuated by the golden sunburst of Amaterasu on his chest. A snowy white moustache dangled from his upper lip, matching the white patch that covered his left eye.

"High Priest Munashi!" Tamami exclaimed, bowing low again though she was already kneeling.

"I bid you greetings this night, young Daidoji Tamami," he said quietly, gently cupping her chin and raising her face.

"You know my name?" she broke into a smile.

"All of the Crane are my children," he replied, "What brings you to the Gardens so late, beautiful daughter?"

"It is the only time I can pray," she replied, "I work long hours, have recently been promoted, and have been very busy helping my sister."

Munashi folded his hands in his sleeves and smiled more broadly. "Such devotion and piety in one so young. It is good to see. You honor your ancestors, Tamami-chan."

Tamami bowed again, her face flush with the High Priest's praise.

"Sadly," Munashi continued, slowly walking past Tamami and raising one hand to consider a cherry blossom on a nearby tree, "I must ask that you leave now."

Tamami glanced up with a start, her face pleading.

Munashi smiled again, a soothing smile. "I am sorry, Tamami. But the Bon Festival approaches and I must make certain that I am prepared to honor the spirits as they deserve. My meditation rituals are very secret. You understand."

"Of course. I understand, Munashi-sama," Tamami said, quickly rising and bowing again.

"Fear not, young Tamami-chan," Munashi said, smelling the blossom, "I will include you in my prayers."

"Arigatou, Munashi-sama," Tamami grinned broadly. She stood, bowed one last time, and left the Fantastic Garden.

"Rare to find such idealism in one so very young," Munashi sighed.

"Could I distill that and bottle it," laughed a voice from one of the prayer chambers, "Our future would be secured."

Munashi nodded. "Save a dose for yourself, when you do, Doji Meda."

The chamber door opened, and Meda stepped into the clearing. He had replaced the bulky, uncomfortable Emerald Armor with an equally ancient silken kimono. "I have no time for idealism, old friend," he chuckled, "I have an Empire to save."

Munashi's brow wrinkled in concern. "I hear your visit from the Emperor went badly," he said.

"You hear much from your gardens," Meda said mockingly, folding his arms.

"You may hear everything here, Meda," Munashi replied, looking about at the elegant trees and shrubbery, "but you must first learn how to listen." He seated himself on a small bench.

"Four assassins," Meda said, scowling as he sat down heavily next to the priest, "Twenty members of the House Guard dead and shamed beyond forgiveness."

"I know of this," Munashi replied, tracing the flight of a tiny night sparrow with his good eye. "I think it is not the assassins that truly concern you, but what came before."

Meda was silent. He snatched a pebble from the ground and pitched it into the brook. He turned to Munashi, his face grave and showing its age. "The Emperor has declared war upon the entire world."

Munashi shrugged slightly. "As is his right," he said without judgment, "Who are we to judge our Emperor's will?"

"Lunacy!" Meda snapped. Munashi frowned, and Meda brought his emotions back under control. "The Empire has never truly recovered from the Shadow Wars. The Dragon are gone. The Lion are broken. The Scorpion fester in their own corruption. The Mantis are decadent, living through the glory of Yoritomo. Even we, the Crane, are without purpose, our connection the Emperor severed by his own hand. The Empire has no unity. The world has ever hungered for our resources, our technology and our magic. Yoritomo has given them the excuse they need to come and take it."

"Sad," Munashi replied evenly, "So what is to be done? Surely he will listen to reason."

"Yoritomo sees us as weak," Meda replied, running a hand through his long, thinning white hair and scowling at the brook. "Our way is peace, and I am the only Crane advisor."

"Perhaps if another Crane were there to advise him," Munashi said.

"You should have been Jade Champion at my side," Meda said.

"Such was not my destiny," Munashi replied stiffly, "I have accepted this now."

"Look around you, Munashi," Meda said, suddenly standing and raising his arms to the glory of the Garden, "We have built a world of grace. A world of beauty and honor. A world of inestimable value; our wealth be damned we are richer than we have ever been. I would have left such a world for my daughter, but my Emperor would destroy it..."

"Perhaps such a world can still be possible," Munashi said quietly.

Meda turned to the old priest. He was staring at nothing with his one blue eye. He turned to Meda and fixed him with his gaze.

"I doubt there can be many others outside the Mantis Clan who desire this war," Munashi said, "Is this correct?"

Meda sat once more. He bowed his head, considering his answer carefully. Three white cranes strutted into the clearing, bobbing their heads. They wove their way to the brook, taking turns bobbing their heads and drinking of the water.

"Yes," Meda said, "A few sycophants, a few warmongers, a few fools perhaps truly agree. The rest, like myself, go along with it because they cannot betray the Emperor. At its heart, this idea is only Yoritomo's."

Munashi stood and walked toward the brook. The cranes cocked their heads at him, but did not flee. The old priest drew a handful of millet from his robe and offered it to the nearest. The large bird arched its neck elegantly and picked the seed from his palm.

"Is there no one to whom he would listen?" Munashi asked.

"Only his daughter, Ryosei," Meda said, "I believe she would try to dissuade him. But I doubt he would listen. They have become more distant since her mother's death."

Munashi stroked the cranes soft throat. He scattered the remaining millet seeds to the grass and the cranes gathered about to feed on them. The priest folded his arms in his sleeves and turned, his one eye suddenly full of ice and venom. "I think then," he said, "that our course is clear."

Meda could not disagree.

Yasu rumbled through the streets of Otosan Uchi, the stereo in his truck blaring the latest and heaviest gaijin music he could find. His face was twisted into a smile; a frightening smile, but a smile nonetheless. He was headed for the best kept secret of the Crabs. He was headed Downtown.

Yasu was deep under the city, below the highways, below even the Scorpion Quarter. At last pulling off the exit labeled "NO ENTRY," he rolled up to a metal barricade. A thick fence, strewn with barb wire and pulsing electrodes bordered the barricade on either side. The street was dark, the darkness split only by the burning spotlight on top of the guardpost, the huge headlights of Yasu's truck, and the smaller lights mounted on the armor of the two guards that were approaching. They carried large rifles, and pointed them at Yasu, stopping fifteen feet away.

"GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE," clicked a loudspeaker. The guard still within the guardpost was dead serious, and so was the large automatic cannon mounted on top of the post, which swiveled and drew aim on the truck.

Yasu turned down the radio and hopped out, his hands raised in the air. The guards looked him over for several moments.

"YASU, YOU FREAK!" said the loudspeaker, "I HEARD YOU WERE BACK IN TOWN. WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?"

"SORRY. I HAD TO SAVE THE EMPEROR," Yasu replied, his voice amplified by the speakers in his own armor.

The guards laughed, lowering their weapons and strolling over to clap Yasu on the shoulder and stare in awe at his truck. The guardpost opened and the third guard emerged, a thin man in a grey and red jumpsuit.

"Hayato!" Yasu thundered, punching the man in the shoulder.

Hayato winced and smiled, delivering a swift chop to the shoulderplate of Yasu's armor. Yasu frowned. "I felt that."

"I've been practicing," Hayato replied, smirking. "Heading in?"

Yasu nodded. "It's been a pretty frustrating day. Some violence would do me a world of good."

Hayato nodded. "I know the feeling. Truth be told, Yasu, I'm glad you stopped by."

Yasu frowned and grunted.

"You know we send patrols in there nightly. Last one we sent in is about an hour overdue. We don't have enough men left on the night shift to go in and look for them."

Yasu looked at the gates of Downtown. He scratched his beard. "How many?"

"Twenty," Hayato replied, "A full squad. No word at all. I was thinking of going in there and looking around by myself, but now that you're here."

"Get in the truck," Yasu said.

Hayato nodded. He jogged back over to the guardhouse, grabbing a katana, a shotgun, and a belt of ammunition. He returned to the truck and climbed up the passenger side.

"It's dangerous in there, Hiruma-san," one of the guards said to Hayato, "are you sure you don't want to take some armor?"

Hayato gave a cocky smile. "Yasu's got enough armor for the both of us. Anyway, it'll just slow me down." He disappeared inside.

Yasu climbed into the truck on the other side. The huge engine coughed and roared to life once more. The two guards stepped out of the way, deactivating the electric charge on the fence and opening the gates for the truck to pass through.

No one knew about Downtown. No one, except the Crab, the Phoenix, and perhaps the Emperor. It's entire existence was officially denied. The Shadowlands Taint no longer existed, and that was all there was to it. People were just better off thinking that Akuma had forever been defeated, Jigoku forever destroyed.

But even before the Shadow Wars, the Shadowlands were not just restricted to the south of Rokugan. Once in a while, the Taint would bubble up somewhere else. Once in a while, monsters would appear without reason or warning. Fifty years ago, this had happened in Otosan Uchi itself. The Crabs handled the matter quickly and discreetly. They forced the monsters back to a secluded, abandoned part of the city, and when they found they could not destroy all of them without harming the city's delicate architecture, the Phoenix rose the gates with their magic and contained them. It was a compromise, but the Crabs could live with it. After all, Downtown seemed to be merely haunted with goblins, ogres, kumo, and the occasional ghost or zombie. The oni, demonic horrors of Jigoku, had not returned.

Regularly, groups of armed Crab warriors went into Downtown, killing anything that moved, trying to wipe out the evil that lurked in the capital forever. Evil bred evil, however, and all the Crab's efforts seemed to do little but keep the problem from getting worse. Downtown had become a top secret unofficial training ground for the Crab, the final lesson, the only lesson in their war against the dark. One day, you would go in alone, and not return for three days. If you survived, then you were worthy.

The truck rumbled and growled as it chewed its way along the rough streets. It wasn't fast, but once it started going, it was difficult to stop. Darkened, blackened buildings leered on either side, the glass of the windows long shattered and discarded by the creatures living within. Giant spiderwebs stretched between the tattered wreckage, larger than any normal spider could weave. Downtown was unnaturally quiet, as quiet as the grave. Yasu knew better than to stop or even slow down. That was what they wanted you to do.

"Which way?" he asked Hayato.

Hayato took a small scanning device from his pocket, about the size of a remote control. "That way," he pointed ahead and to the right, "but I don't think there are any roads that way."

"There are now," Yasu replied.

The truck snarled, its tires hissing as it heaved up onto the sidewalk. Yasu put his foot down on the accelerator. Flames erupted from the truck's exhaust pipes and the monstrous vehicle gained speed, heading right toward an old abandoned store."

"Yasu," Hayato said, reaching for his seat belt, "are you sure--"

"Shut up," Yasu said, and the truck smashed into the building.

The building exploded into smoke and dust. Years of abandonment and disrepair left it in fragile shape. It blew into bricks while Yasu's truck kept going out the other side, its engine roaring in triumph as it lunged off the sidewalk and hit the street again, wheels sparking.

Hayato started breathing again. "Nice truck," he said.

"I like it," Yasu replied. "How far."

"Not far," Hayato said, glancing at his receiver again, "Only a block or two now."

"Hey, look, Hayato," Yasu said pointing at the road ahead, "Here comes the fun part."

Hayato looked up. A line of tiny, twisted figures stretched across the road, all holding various sorts of firearms. Goblins. Yasu hit a button on his dashboard, and twin metal plates dropped over the windshield as the goblins opened fire.

"We can't see!" Hayato exclaimed. The windshield pinged and sparked as bullets and projectiles deflected harmlessly on the other side.

"Uh oh," Yasu replied, "I hope we don't accidentally hit the goblins." The truck shook slightly, as if several small objects were hitting the grill or going under the tires.

A scream filled the cab as one goblin leaped onto the driver's side door. It's face was green and withered; its mouth was full of small, sharp teeth. It held a sharp knife in its hand and scrambled into the window, clutching at Yasu. Yasu calmly picked up something from the floor. Hayato had at first assumed it to be a thermos, but it was a pistol with a very large barrel. Yasu stabbed the barrel into the goblin's mouth, and fired. A loud thoom and a short squeak filled the cab and Yasu threw the goblin's headless corpse out onto the street with his other hand.

Yasu glanced in the rearview mirror. "I think that's all of them," Yasu said, "Or enough of them that the others will get the idea and run."

"Stop here," Hayato said, "and wait. I'll scout ahead, see what else we have to look forward to."

Yasu nodded, and shifted the truck into gear. The engine groaned in protest as Yasu hammered his foot onto the brake. The machine complied, shuddering to a stop. "Carry the Fortunes," Yasu said, nodding at his friend.

"Always," Hayato smirked, picking up his shotgun and hopping out of the truck.

Yasu heard Hayato's shotgun go off a moment later, and glanced out the window to see the man finishing off a goblin straggler. Then he turned, nodded at the mirror, and vanished.

Such was the way of the scouts, the secret that had allowed the Crabs to fight the taint of the Shadowlands so effectively for two thousand years. The Hida family, warriors like Yasu, came in with guns blazing, bashing heads and bringing terror. The Hiruma family moved behind the scenes, acting with stealth and subtlety. They ascertained the strengths and weaknesses of the enemy before battle even began, so that the Hida would know precisely where and when to strike.

In his heart, Yasu knew this. He had trouble accepting it, though. He was impatient and brash by nature. He liked to fight, not sit. Luckily, he knew his limitations. He flipped through his compact disc collection in the glove compartment while he waited. He stopped at one particular disc, considering for a moment. On impulse, he drew it from its sleeve and slipped it into the player he had built into his armor.

In the distance, he heard Hayato's shotgun fire. Once. Twice. Yasu took his gun and retractable tetsubo, stepping out of the truck and listening for the sound of the gunfire. About half a block away, a storefront exploded into fire. Hayato flew from the debris, crashing into a wall across the street and sliding into a heap. Yasu broke into a jog, running as fast as he could with his weapons and heavy armor. He looked first to the still flaming building, and when he saw no threat, he turned to his friend. Hayato was still alive, struggling to sit up. His left leg was twisted wickedly.

"What happened?" Yasu asked, helping his friend sit up straighter and looking over him for more serious injuries.

"Dead," Hayato gasped, "All dead, all of them! All twenty! We have to get out of here, Yasu! I blew the gas main, but I don't think that will hold it off for long! We have to run! Tell the others!"

The wreckage of the flaming shop suddenly heaved, and a monstrous moan shook the street.

Yasu slung his arm around Hayato's shoulder, lifting the smaller man easily as he eyed the shop. His gun was in his hand, already aimed at the fire. "What is it?" Yasu asked, "Looks big for an ogre!"

"It's--" Hayato gasped in pain, his broken leg twisting as Yasu lifted him, "It's an oni, Yasu! It's a damned oni!"

Yasu froze, his mouth dropping open. The rubble shifted across the street, and two points of light appeared, brighter than the fire. They could have been eyes, but they were too big, too far apart.

"That can't be," Yasu said, moving back in the direction of the truck but never taking his eyes off the fire, "There aren't any oni anymore!"

"I know what I saw!" Hayato screamed.

The broken building exploded again, sending flaming rubble everywhere. Yasu stumbled and fell from the shockwave, twisting as he fell to prevent injuring Hayato further. He scrambled to his feet again, pistol and tetsubo in hand. A massive dark figure rose from the rubble, flames and smoke obscuring the detail. It was a mockery of human proportions, with long muscular arms, a pointed head, and something odd going on in the torso Yasu couldn't make out for the fire. It was over twenty feet tall. It turned at the waist, it's burning eyes focusing on the two Crabs.

"YAMA GORKESHU FLAIGNAIN JIGOKU, CRAAAB!!!" it roared, chuckling.

Yasu shook his head, the odd demonic language doing something to his brain. He reached for Hayato again.

"It's too late!" the scout screamed, slapping his hand away, "You'll never be able to drag me back to the truck! You have to go Yasu! They have to know! Someone has to know!!!"

The demon lurched, throwing one leg out of the rubble. Yasu saw that it's thick legs cut off at the thigh, twisting into bizarre metallic treads. "ZENGA YORKAPPU ZIL MAK CRAAAAAAB!!!" it howled, tossing its head back and coughing green smoke.

Hayato looked up at Yasu, pleading. Yasu knew the scout was right. Hurt as he was, Hayato would kick and struggle as he ran, and Yasu would never be able to manage him back to the truck.

"Okay," Yasu said, "I'm going now, Hayato."

"Good," Hayato sighed, laying back in the street, "Carry the Fortunes, Yasu."

"Can't," Yasu replied, "I'll be carrying too much else." Hayato's face twisted in confusion. Yasu drew back his fist and punched his friend, knocking him unconscious.

The oni drew a second leg from the fire, slamming the metal treads of its foot onto the street, sending chunks of concrete flying. "AMBRA NIKAGU JAGU SIMBARU!!!! EK CRAAAAAB!!!"

"Jabba wabba jingo to you too, bastard!" Yasu roared and fired his pistol once. The large shell took the oni in the forehead, and it doubled over, howling and clutching its face.

Yasu quickly grabbed Hayato by his belt and slung his limp form over his shoulder. He turned toward the truck and ran, the oni roaring behind him as it wrenched its other two legs out of the buildings wreckage. The treads on its feet spun and mangled the pavement as it lurched down the street after the Crabs.

Yasu knew his odds of surviving were just about gone.

Yasu knew he shouldn't have stopped to save his friend.

And shooting the oni in the face was probably a bad idea.

But for the first time tonight he was enjoying himself.

TO BE CONTINUED