Balance of Power

THE DIAMOND EMPIRE
By Rich Wulf
EPISODE ELEVEN

Shukujo.

The Ancestral Sword of the Crane.

The sword wielded by the Crane Thunders, the blade that journeyed to the Shadowlands at the beginning of history and that pierced the dark heart of Fu Leng a thousand years later. The souls of the Thunders were said to still reside in the blade, and if its wielder was honorable enough their voices could still be heard.

Doji Meda could not hear their voices, though he tried.

The Champion of the Crane stood at the very top of the Dojicorp Building, upon the roof of the highest pagoda of that towering skyscraper. The wind roared furiously at this height, its power unbroken by the land below. Meda stood untouched in the midst of the tempest, his long white hair whipping out behind him. Meda's eyes were fixed upon a point to the north, the only building in Otosan Uchi that stood higher than his own.

The Diamond Palace, the center of the Empire. It stood like a great pinnacle of crystal and jade, it's dark shadow creeping across the heart of the city. Meda imagined Yoritomo to be standing somewhere in that tower, brewing his mad plans of war. There was little time left now. Thirteen days until the ultimatum, the end of everything he knew. The world would not honor the ultimatum, and the Emperor knew it. He had to know it. No one could be so foolish as to think otherwise. No, the Emperor sought his own destruction, the final fulfillment of the curse upon his family. He aimed to take the rest of the world down with him, as well.

"I will not allow it," Meda said, gripping Shukujo tightly. His face contorted in rage, then fell into confused sadness. "But what can I do? Ancestors, what must I do? Doji, Konishiko, Hoturi, where does my honor lie?"

Meda closed his eyes and listened for their reply. The blade was cold in his hand; he heard nothing but the wind. There was no reply, nor would there ever be one, it seemed.

"Please, ancestors!" Meda cried. "I know that I am an imperfect man. It seems as if every day I make decisions that will damn me forever. I have lost my daughter; I no longer deserve to call myself her father. My cowardice during the Senpet Invasion has brought dishonor upon my clan and the position of the Emerald Champion. My weakness has prevented me from halting the Emperor's madness before it was too late. Now I must do something... anything..."

He was silent for a while, his eyes closed against the wind. "And I fear... I fear that Asahina Munashi is no longer the friend he claims to be. There is something in the man's eyes... I cannot trust him. It is his ambition that has brought me to this, though the shame belongs to no one but me. Please, ancestors. There is no one else I can turn to. Tell me what I must do." Meda found only silence again. He felt a little foolish, standing here like this, expecting men and women long dead to tell him how to live his life. He was a man of the modern world; what was he thinking?

Meda opened his eyes then, and he saw her. A pair of blue eyes shone in the sky, looking down upon him with depthless love and incalculable sadness. White hair swept down around a small face, fair and perfect. "Kamiko?" Meda said, his voice choked. He realized it was not Kamiko at all.

"Lady Doji!" Meda exclaimed. He fell to his knees on the rooftop, his eyes wide with wonder. Tears streaked his face, but whether they were drawn by the wind or by the vision Meda could not tell.

"Meda," Doji said, and her voice was the wind.

"Lady Doji!" Meda cried again, shouting into the wind. "What can I do? What must I do?"

"Meda, you look too much to others," Doji replied. Her smooth voice was full of regret. "Your strength lies within. When the time comes, you will know what is right. Though it will seem that you have failed, you will give others the strength to carry on."

"But how will I know?" Meda shouted again. "How will I know when the time is right to act?" Shukujo flapped uncomfortably against Meda's leg, and the Crane put one hand on its hilt to steady it. The sword suddenly grew warm in his hand.

"Meda..." Lady Doji said. "Meda, beware..." The clouds thickened in the sky, obscuring the vision.

Meda's hand tightened on the sword's hilt. "Doji!" he shouted, "No! Wait!" But she was gone. The warmth in the blade's handle grew, and Meda found his own temper flaring with it. The warmth was not entirely comfortable, and disconcertingly reminiscent of the cursed blade, Yashin.

But as soon he thought of Yashin the thought was gone, replaced with anger and resentment. He didn't need the advice of his ancestors, he didn't need inscrutable words of alleged wisdom from some arcane vision. He needed only one thing, and that was the blade at his side. Meda's eyes fixed upon the Diamond Palace. He knew what he had to do. Meda drew a small cellular phone out of his pocket with his free hand and tapped in a brief code.

"Eien," he said. "This is Meda."

"Hai, Meda-sama," the Daidoji commander replied. "What is your command, sir?"

"How quickly can your men be prepared?" Meda asked.

"My men are always prepared, Meda-sama," the commander said confidently. "Is there trouble in the city?"

"Yes, there is trouble," Meda said. "Gather your most loyal men. Arm them with our finest weapons. There is not much time."

"My lord, if it is not too presumptuous, may I ask what this is about?" Eien asked.

"We go to save the Empire, Eien," Meda replied vaguely. "I will be with you shortly." He closed the phone and tossed it aside. It shattered to pieces on the roof of Dojicorp, scattering to the streets below. Meda cared little. His blue eyes were bright, staring at the pinnacle of the Diamond Palace.


"What?" Hisojo asked quickly. "What do you see, Saigo?"

"Yes, Saigo," Rojo said. "What is it?"

Saigo backed away toward Ryosei, spreading his arms to protect her. He pointed at Mirumoto Rojo. "That man," Saigo said fearfully, "is implanted."

Rojo rose swiftly from his chair, his katana springing to his hand. His eyes were wide with anger, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

"Look out, Ryosei!" Saigo shouted. He didn't know what exactly he planned to do if the armed samurai tried to move him, but he'd think of something.

"Rojo!" Hisojo snapped, remaining in his seat, "What is the meaning of this?"

"What he says is true!" Rojo cried. "I can feel the thing's invasive presence even now!" He flipped the katana in his hand, turning the blade toward his heart. "I will stop it now and forever. Remember me." He brought the hilt up, grimaced, and forced the blade downward. The tall samurai dropped to one knee and gasped, then looked down at his chest in confusion.

"Are you satisfied?" Hisojo asked. The shugenja folded his hands before him and arched an eyebrow at Rojo.

Rojo held his katana high. The blade hung limp from the end of the saya. "What did you do, wizard?" he snapped.

"I transmuted the steel into cloth," Hisojo replied. "Not an easy feat, especially with that particular sword. Now are you prepared to behave rationally, Rojo-san?"

"You heard what he said!" Rojo protested, pointing at Saigo. "It is true. It explains everything. The headaches, my temper, my tendency to disobey orders of late. I've been corrupted by tetsukansen. I cannot be trusted. Now will you allow me to keep what honor I have left?" The samurai rose to his feet, but his shoulders were slumped in defeat. His eyes were downcast; he seemed utterly lost. Saigo felt very sorry for him.

"Saigo, Ryosei, return to the Factory," Hisojo said. "I need to speak to Rojo alone for a moment." The Phoenix and Mantis stood and nodded, then filed quietly from the library.

Hisojo rolled his eyes. "Rojo, you're a fool," he said.

The samurai blinked and took a step back. "Excuse me?"

"We have a unique opportunity here," Hisojo said. "A chance to find out how these implants work for the first time. Look at yourself, Rojo. You're fighting its influence, even now. You've never had a short temper, and you've never disobeyed orders. You're always one hundred percent loyal to the Dragon. Whoever implanted you made a terrible mistake; there is no evil in your heart to corrupt. This implant has done nothing to you."

"We don't know that for certain," Rojo replied, sinking back into his chair. "I just returned from the city. Perhaps I was implanted while I was there, and the implant has not had time to take its full effect."

"No," Hisojo replied. "I would estimate you have been implanted for several weeks at the least."

"Weeks?" Rojo gasped. The Dragon's mind reeled with the impossibility. What had he seen during that time? How much of the Hidden Dragon's security had he compromised?

"Think about it," Hisojo said. "When you followed Hatsu to the Labyrinth, the Imperial Guard also appeared. How could they have known of Hatsu's arrival? Only Oroki knew of his presence. Whatever other faults that young Scorpion may have, he's no pawn of the Stormbreaker. No, I'm afraid they were monitoring him through you the entire time, Rojo."

Rojo was quiet for a long time. "So I am a traitor, then," he said, his voice thick. "Everything I know, they know. And I know everything. I have compromised the Hidden Dragon to our greatest enemies."

Hisojo shrugged. "Not much to be done about that now. We knew something like this would happen eventually. Perhaps the time for hiding is over. The Day of Thunder draws near; mayhap it is time for us to reveal ourselves. We shall see."

"Shall I report to the doctors?" Rojo asked. "Have this... thing... removed?" He gestured at his head.

Hisojo considered for a moment. "Yes, report to them. See if they can confirm Saigo-san's findings," the old shugenja said. "See if they can find an easier way to detect the implants, and if the implant is having any unusual effect upon your body chemistry. See if the implant is operable, but do not remove it. Not just yet. I will take no chances with a kansen, especially when it means your health."

"So I am to remain a guinea pig for now," Rojo smiled sadly as he rose to his feet.

"Yes, my friend," Hisojo said. "I am sorry, but I hope you realize how important this is."

"Not really," Rojo said, "but I'm used to doing things I don't quite understand."

"Good," Hisojo chuckled. Rojo turned to leave the chamber. "Oh, one more thing, Rojo."

The samurai turned.

"Try not to kill yourself," Hisojo added with a small grin.

Rojo laughed despite himself.


Kamiko rubbed her knuckles, and wished not for the first time in her life that she had better control over her temper.

"That wall certainly won't bother you anymore," said a young man sitting on the nearby futon. His white hair was cut short, his face turned into a permanent smirk. His wide blue eyes and round face resembled Kamiko's greatly, though he looked a few years older. The young man held a sketchbook in his lap, doodling in it lazily with a piece of charcoal.

"Shut up, Kamoto," Kamiko said. She slumped upon the futon beside her cousin. "You don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, but at least I'm used to it," he said with a laugh. "I know my limitations. You don't know what yours are."

Kamiko shot a dark look at Kamoto. "And I suppose you do," she said.

"Yeah, I do," he said. He kept doodling. The two sat in silence for minutes. Kamiko seethed. Kamoto was supposedly just visiting, but Kamiko suspected Meda had told her cousin to keep an eye on her. The boy was loyal to Meda, and to make matters worse he was at least as clever as Kamiko. The two had grown up together and knew each other's tricks.

"So are you going to tell me what my problem is?" she asked archly.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, still drawing. "I don't have the slightest idea what I'm talking about."

Kamiko leaned toward Kamoto. "I suppose you want to eat that sketchbook," she said.

"Fine, fine," Kamoto said. He closed the book and laid it on a small table beside him. "Your problem is you're selfish, Kamiko. You've had everything in your life handed to you and it still isn't enough. You can never be happy with what you have."

Kamiko rolled her eyes and sat back on the futon. "And what do I have?"

Kamoto smirked. "Well, last I checked, not everyone got to live in the Dojicorp Building. You could fit my house on half of just this floor."

"There's more to life than material possessions, Kamoto," she said.

"Yes, but the material possessions certainly don't hurt," he said. "You can spend a lot more time whining about your family when you know where your next meal's coming from."

"I do not whine," she said.

"Oh, yes you do," he said.

"I do not," she retorted.

"Do too," he smiled.

"You're a juvenile idiot," she said flatly. "I have no clue why my father wants to see you as his successor."

"You and me both," Kamoto said with a sigh. "Your father's a good man, but he makes a lot of weird decisions, though. Like that Munashi creep. I don't trust that one any further than I can throw him. There's just something about him that creeps me out."

Kamiko nodded. "I just wish father saw that."

Kamoto looked at his cousin sternly. "So make him see it. You're his daughter. Whatever else comes between the two of you, you can still talk to him, can't you?"

Kamiko was quiet. She ran a hand through her hair and shifted on the couch before she answered. "Sometimes," she said. "Yesterday it seemed like he was listening to me for once, but today... today he's acting very strange again."

"Why, what's he doing?" Kamoto asked.

"Well, you know how he's ordered all of the Crane to remain in Dojicorp for the remainder of the day," she said.

"Yeah, that's because of the riots in Little Jigoku," Kamoto replied. "The Unicorn are going nuts down there. Seems like an overreaction to me, but you can't underestimate the sort of destruction large groups of angry peasants can cause."

"Peasants?" Kamiko said with a small laugh. "You sound absolutely medieval, Kamoto."

"That's what they are, isn't it?" Kamoto replied, blushing slightly.

"That's neither here nor there," Kamiko said. "This is about father. I hacked into the security system. It monitors everyone in the building, displays what they're up to, what weapons they're carrying, etc. Father's been on the lower levels almost all day. He's heavily armed, and he's got a lot of heavily armed Daidoji reporting to him."

"What are they doing?" Kamoto asked, shocked.

"I don't know," she said, "but the way dad's been talking, I'm afraid they might be headed to the Palace." She fell silent for a moment, staring out the window at the distant spire of the Diamond Palace.

"You're worried about Kameru, aren't you?" Kamoto asked.

"I'm worried about both of them!" Kamiko said. "My father's not in his right mind! If he goes in there and faces Yoritomo the way he's acting there's no telling what might happen!" She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands, her short white hair spilling over her fingers.

"It's creepy how familiar all of this is," Kamoto replied. "You know, Kamiko, I was friends, good friends, with some of those guys in the House Guard, the ones that helped Chiodo sneak that gun in to try to assassinate Yoritomo. I'd have never thought they had that sort of evil in them."

"They had some sort of weird implants in their heads," Kamiko said, looking up. "Made them violent and evil. Didn't you hear about that?"

"No I hadn't," Kamoto said. "That's crazy. That kind of thing doesn't happen."

"I was there," Kamiko said. "I discovered the first implants myself."

"That's bizarre," Kamoto said. "Reminds me of the story of Kenichi and the Bloodsword."

"What?" Kamiko replied. She felt a chill in her soul.

"You don't know that story?" Kamoto said. "It's an old myth, about a ronin with a sword possessed by a kansen. The kansen twists Kenichi's soul and uses the darkness in the hero's heart to do evil."

"Yes, I know the story," she said. "What if it was true? What ever happened to the Bloodsword in that story?"

"Well, there's a few different versions of the story," Kamoto said, "but in most of them, Kenichi kills Yajinden with the blade and breaks its curse forever."

Kamiko looked at her cousin. "Kamoto, did the stories ever say if there was another bloodsword? Something that could be used as a template to make those implants?"

Kamoto chuckled nervously. "It's just a story, Kami-chan," he said. "Besides, after Yajinden the Asahina swore never to make weapons like that again. Those secrets are buried deep in the Asahina libraries."

"I guess so," Kamiko said. She knew Yashin had to be behind this somehow. The sword was alive, possessed of its own soul and ambitions, and it was utterly, completely evil. "I have to go join my father," she said at last. "I have to go keep an eye on him."

"You'll never get away with it," Kamoto said. "He'd never let you come along."

"He'd never have to know," Kamiko said. She had a sudden mischievous glint in her eye. "Wait here, Kamoto. I'll be right back." Kamoto knew that look. They would both be in a lot of trouble before the day was through.


"I'm busy, Oroki," Katsunan said. "Out of respect for the relationship my family has had with yours, I have agreed to this meeting. Now quickly come to the point." The Unicorn paced back and forth across his office. The old magistrate had the look of a frustrated predator, delayed just on the verge of the hunt. His office, at the very peak of Shinjo Tower, was almost bare of furniture or decoration. Katsunan was a professional man, with little use for ostentation or trophies.

"Katsunan," Oroki chuckled. "Surely you've time for an old friend like me."

The magistrate stopped his pacing, meeting Oroki's mocking gaze with eyes of cold steel. "Don't think you can try to blackmail me, Scorpion," he said. "As I recall, you came to me during the Kenburo incident."

"But we both profited from it," Oroki replied. He paused a moment, waiting until Katsunan was just about to speak before interrupting. "Ah, but you are correct, Katsunan. I wouldn't try to blackmail you. I have the leverage but surely not the power. You could have a man as insignificant as myself silenced with a single phone call."

"Surely," Katsunan replied, nodding slightly. He was one of the few individuals who saw through Bayushi Oroki's self deprecating mask and glimpsed the deadly mind that lay behind it. He never underestimated the man. "So why did you want to speak to me?"

"Curiosity," Oroki said. He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair, gazing at Katsunan over his fingertips. "A particular magistrate of yours has shown great interest in me of late, and now I intend to return the favor."

"Is that so?" Katsunan replied. "And what do you expect me to do about it? I'm not in the habit of selling out my own men."

"Really," Oroki said dryly. "You certainly hung enough of them out to dry when my brother went down."

"Had to be done," the Unicorn said stiffly. "Sacrifices must be made."

"Yes, yes, the good of the many and all that," Oroki waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure Shinjo Yokatsu said the same thing very often."

Katsunan sat behind his desk, his hands flat upon the steel grey surface. "First threats, now insults. Are you so bitter over Bayushi Shiriko's ascension that you must take it out upon me?" Oroki chuckled. "What have I to be bitter over?" he said, gesturing with his palms out. "She's the Scorpion daimyo now, but what does she have for all her power? Yoritomo's shipped her off to guard the Great Seal or so I hear. No, I simply came here to speak to you about one of your magistrates; you're the one that keeps derailing our conversation."

"Then ask me what you came here to ask me," Katsunan said with an exasperated sigh. "There's a full scale riot going on in Little Jigoku and I've got to get out there to oversee damage control."

"I had heard that Yoritomo granted you power to declare martial law in the city," Oroki said. "A new power you seem to be taking quite a bit of joy in exercising." The Scorpion chuckled.

"Don't question my methods," Katsunan said. "I'm sure your own are nothing you'd wish me to discover. Now get to the point, Scorpion."

"Oh, I promise not to keep you long," Oroki said. "Tell me what you know about Otaku Sachiko."

"A good cop," he said with a nod. "She's made quite a life for herself, I can say that." The old magistrate nodded with implied respect.

"Indeed?" Oroki said, intrigued by the suggestion. For all of Katsunan's corruption, he was still a man of strict morals; his respect did not come lightly. "And what of her family? What can you tell me about them?"

Katsunan suddenly glanced at Oroki again, his face severe. "What have you heard?"

"Only rumors," the Scorpion said with a mild chuckle. "I heard that Sachiko's blood had a bit of ill luck."

Katsunan's face slowly became red with anger. "This conversation is over," he said. "Get out of my building."

Oroki smiled behind his mask. He hadn't expected to elicit such a volatile emotional reaction so quickly. "Please, Katsunan, I mean no offense," he said in his most apologetic voice. "I confess, I know that she is your niece, and I mean her no harm."

Katsunan balled one hand into a fist, cracking the knuckles. "What the hell do you want with Sachiko?" he asked. "The girl's been through enough."

Oroki allowed his voice to thicken and slumped his posture slightly, allowing himself to look vulnerable. "This is embarrassing, Katsunan," he said. "I do not like to admit it, but I find the girl... fascinating. She has such fire, such passion. I simply wondered what could happen to a person to make them what they are. I want... to understand her."

"You're never had any interest in anyone other than yourself, Oroki," Katsunan said flatly. "You're up to something. Now get out."

Oroki chided himself inwardly. He'd gone too far too quickly, pushed too hard. It would be difficult to salvage the situation now. "If that is the way you feel, Katsunan," Oroki said slowly, allowing himself to sound defeated. "Perhaps you are right about me. But you know what is happening in this city, in the Empire. The world is quickly going to hell. It is times like these that one quickly realizes what is truly important. I was simply curious about Sachiko. What harm can come to her from the pathetic, powerless son of an emasculated Scorpion daimyo?"

Katsunan chuckled. "You almost sound sincere, Scorpion," he said. "I'd almost believe you were willing to turn over a new leaf. Unfortunately for you, I'm not the total moron you believe me to be."

"What can I do to gain your trust?" Oroki asked.

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Katsunan said with a bitter laugh. "Everything's a deal with you, isn't it, Oroki? Well, fine then. There are some things I'm still willing to deal for. Scorpion, I want to clean up Otosan Uchi. I need to clean up Otosan Uchi. Since the Senpet Invasion this place has been hell on earth and that is the sort of situation that I will not tolerate. I want it to be as it was."

Oroki took a moment to respond, pretending he hadn't expected this line of thought. "And I, as the ranking member of the Scorpion Clan present in the city, could help you achieve this goal of yours somehow?"

"Yes, and we both know it," Katsunan said. "Yoritomo may not want to admit it, but if it hadn't been for your clan, we'd all be speaking Senpet right now. I may have men and firepower, but your people... well, you're the Scorpion. You have certain advantages."

"Yes, we do," Oroki said.

"Give me your clan's complete cooperation while the city is under martial law," Katsunan said. "Do that for me, and I'll tell you anything you want to know about Otaku Sachiko."

"Easily done," Oroki said. "Truth be told, this shabby little city was beginning to irritate me. I'd be happy to help clean it up."

"I'm sure you would," Katsunan said with a grim smile.

"Now," Oroki said, clapping his hands together. "Tell me what I want to know."

"Fine," Katsunan replied. "But you may wish that you hadn't asked. This story goes back a long time, to the times when my people were called the Ki-Rin."

Oroki settled in. This might take a while.


"Daidoji Eien reporting, sir." The young soldier stepped into Doji Meda's office and bowed curtly. Eien was not a tall man, but he was one of the most physically intimidating people Meda had ever met. He was square jawed and broad-shouldered, with eyes so pale they were nearly white. He was thick with muscle and seemed in a state of eternal tension, as if ready to spring at a moments notice and do terrible violence to anything nearby. Meda knew well that Eien's thuggish appearance belied a cunning mind and nearly inexhaustible patience. He was bright, creative, tenacious, and utterly loyal to the Crane Clan.

"Excellent, Eien," Meda said, bowing to the soldier. "How many men do you have prepared?"

"I have selected thirty that are unquestioningly loyal, sir," Eien answered. "And if they are not, they will answer to me. We are ready to move out upon your command. What are your orders?" Eien raised one eyebrow slightly.

Meda smiled. Eien was the perfect lieutenant. Loyal enough not to question direct orders when given, but smart enough to express curiosity when those orders seemed strange or unusual. His raised eyebrow was the closest he would come to disobeying his daimyo's orders. Meda would not have to explain his intentions for Eien to obey him completely, but he knew the Daidoji would function far more efficiently if he and his men knew what they were walking into.

"We go to ask Emperor Yoritomo VI to abdicate his rule," Meda said simply. He gave no explanation, no rationalization. A man such as Eien would not require one.

"Yes, sir," Eien said with a curt nod. "I can assemble my men immediately. Will this be a covert action or a full breach?"

"We will enter the Palace openly and without violence," Meda said. "My status as Emerald Champion should get us as far as the throne room, where Yoritomo will be giving a public address. I shall then publicly demand that Yoritomo step down as Emperor. Only if he refuses shall we resort to violence."

"And the Lion?" Eien said. "Their armies guard the walls of the Palace in force. I am certain that I could outmaneuver Matsu Gohei on equal footing, but they have over one hundred bushi guarding the Palace and more that can be summoned from the city at a moment's notice."

"Gohei's troops patrol outside the Palace walls," Meda said. "Our allies in the minor clans shall see to it that they do not gain entrance. And if they do, we have other resources we may call upon." Meda thought of Kyuden Hida, floating out in Golden Sun Bay. He wondered if Tengyu would truly assist him when and if he called. The daimyo of the Crab Clan did not seem to be a man of deception, but what Meda had asked was no small favor.

"And what of the Dojicorp Building?" Eien asked. "Surely once we seize the Palace, the Lion will seek to gain leverage upon us by attacking our interests here."

Meda inclined his head. He had not even considered such an eventuality. What had he been thinking? He thanked the Lady Doji for the blessing of Eien's sharp mind. "Close down the building, then," Meda said. "No one enters or leaves. Security on full alert. Go and see to it personally, Eien. We leave for the Palace in fifteen minutes. You are dismissed."

Eien nodded, bowed, and marched toward the door. He paused momentarily, turning towards Meda once more.

"Yes, Eien?" Meda asked. "Is there something else?"

"My men are loyal, Meda-sama," Eien said. "They would die for you. As would I. As my father would have, had he had the choice." A glimmer of doubt clouded the Daidoji's face.

Meda scratched his chin in thought. Daidoji Hidetora had been Eien's father. He had been the daimyo of the Daidoji family and captain of the Doji House Guard. He had served honorably for many years, until one month ago. He had been the leader of the security force assigned to protect Dojicorp during the announcement of Kamiko's betrothal, the gathering that had erupted into chaos when Ichiro Chiodo tried to assassinate Yoritomo. Twenty men of the Doji House Guard had committed seppuku to avoid capture after allowing the Badger daimyo to enter the audience chamber with an automatic weapon. They had all been later found to have tetsukansen implants.

"We still know very little about what caused your father's behavior, Eien," Meda said carefully. "We know only that he was not acting of his own will. Someone used dark tetsukami to dishonor the name of the Crane, and that someone is still out there. The only caution I can give you is this: if any Crane seem to be acting unusually, assume they have been subverted by the enemy. Deal with them however you deem necessary. The mission we are about to undertake is too important to allow any room for error."

"Yes, sir," Eien said. He bowed once more and left the chamber. As the young soldier strode through the halls, Meda's orders echoed in his mind. Commands to kill his own men hardly brought him comfort. Not that he would disobey his orders if it came to that, it was a bushi's duty to obey. What truly bothered him were Meda's last words...

"If any Crane seem to be acting unusually, assume they have been subverted by the enemy..."

The only Crane that Eien saw to be acting unusually was Meda.


The room was small and dark and stacked with crates of vegetables. Here in the storage room in the basement of Shotai's diner they weren't likely to be bothered. Here, the leaders of the gang that had become known as Toturi's Army could plan their strategies in solitude and security. Five members of that group sat about the low table in the storage room, looking with some consternation at a glowing white rock that sat in the center of the group.

"What is it, Tokei?" Ginawa asked. The old ronin leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

"It's definitely magic," the shugenja said. He scratched at his shabby beard and gestured over the stone with one hand. "The kami within this rock is the most powerful I've ever encountered, yet it's incomplete."

"Is it dangerous?" Ginawa said, uneasy. Having been raised in the techno-purity of the Dojicorp Building, the idea of true magic made him somewhat uncomfortable.

"It could be," Tokei said with a shrug. He pushed a tangle of braided hair out of his eyes. "Rokugani magic is always unpredictable. It has life and emotions of its own."

"Well, then is it a weapon?" Hiroru asked. The ninja's eyes were bright, intense. "Is this something we could use?"

Tokei looked at Hiroru warily. "I wouldn't jump to any conclusions," the shugenja replied. "Not with something this big. It could kill all of us if we're not careful."

"The Locusts wanted that thing for a reason," interjected Shotai. "We should destroy it, if only to keep them from putting whatever plan they have into action." Shotai was a plump, cheerful man most of the time; those who patronized the diner knew him as an easy-going father figure. When the meetings took place in his basement, however, all frivolity was disposed of. He was deadly serious and surprisingly cunning.

Just then there was a knock at the door: an even, concise pattern of sounds. Ginawa looked up to the door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Me," replied a familiar voice.

"Come in, come in," Ginawa said quickly.

The door opened and dark-haired man in a long, dirty coat quickly scurried inside. He wore dark sunglasses and his face was covered with stubble. As he closed the door, his walk and body language changed instantly. His shoulders broadened, and he suddenly gained poise and confidence. The actor pulled the dark wig away from his hair, revealing the long blonde hair that was his trademark.

"Nice disguise, Daniri," Tokei remarked.

"Thanks," Daniri replied. "I can't stay very long but I was told you had news for-" Daniri froze in mid-sentence.

"Hi, Daniri," Jiro said, his face bland.

"Jiro," Daniri said, nodding.

"I'm called Toku here," Jiro said stiffly.

"Toku," Daniri acknowledged. He had to draw upon all of his talent as an actor to restrain the relief he felt at seeing his brother's face. He couldn't let on that the boy was his brother, not even to his friends in Toturi's Army. The secret just wasn't his to give. "I'm glad that you're all right," he added.

"With Hiroru's help, Toku managed to slip away during the Locust riot at Lucky Star Center," Ginawa said to Daniri. "He escaped with an odd stone, a magical stone." The old ronin gestured at the white stone on the table. "We're not sure what it does just yet, but we know that Inago Sekkou is willing to kill for it."

"Not surprising," Daniri said, settling into the chair next to Ginawa. "Sekkou's a psychopath; he'll kill for all kinds of reasons."

"True," Ginawa replied, "but Tokei has studied the stone, and he thinks it's an artifact of extreme power."

Daniri looked at the glowing white stone for a few moments, then shrugged. "Well that's all well and good and I wish you the best of luck, but I only joined up with this group for one reason. To find Jiro. Now that's done, I think I'll take him back to his mother. She's worried sick about you, Jiro. If she knew what you were up to here..."

"She's been through worse," Jiro said, his eyes hard as he glared at Daniri.

Daniri sighed. He knew that his brother had never quite forgiven him for leaving the family to become an actor. Daniri had done what he could to support his family from afar, but it had never seemed to be enough. He'd never visited; he couldn't visit. That had been the hardest part for both brothers. Neither Daniri or Jiro had ever really known their father, so Daniri had always been Jiro's father figure. And now he'd disappeared, just like their father. "We'll talk about this later, okay, Jiro?" Daniri asked.

"Toku," Jiro reminded him.

"Could we postpone the arguments until later?" Ginawa asked. "Daniri, I know that you merely consider yourself an ally of our group, but your advice has proven very useful in the past. What do you think should be done about this stone?"

Daniri picked up the small shard of white rock and stared into it. It was clear white, but cloudy. As he looked at it, shapes seemed to move and sway in its depths. Figures began to resolve themselves, then vanish again. The stone grew very cold in his hand. A face appeared in its depths, a face with a single eye and a great helm like the warriors of old.

"Daniri," Hiroru said, clearing his throat. "Are you there?"

Daniri blinked and shook his head to clear the images from his mind. He felt like he'd been hypnotized, his thoughts clouded by the stone. He quickly set the rock back down on the table. "There's definitely something up with that thing," he said. "I thought I saw a face in it."

"Hmm," Tokei said thoughtfully.

"Well, I have to go," Daniri said, standing quickly. "I have to be at the Palace within the hour. Jiro, er, Toku, you stay here. I want to have a talk with you later."

Jiro shrugged and didn't look up at Daniri.

"Well, good-bye, everyone," Daniri said.

"Stay safe, Akodo," Ginawa said. Tokei nodded and Shotai gave a brief wave. Daniri stepped out of the small room and made his way through the basement of Shotai's. After a time, he paused, cocked his head, and looked over his shoulder. Hiroru was standing just at the edge of the shadows, watching him quietly.

"You're pretty good at that, Hiroru," Daniri said. "I could half believe you're the ninja you claim to be."

"Thank you for the lukewarm compliment," Hiroru said. "Do you want me to follow you to the Palace?"

"Why?" Daniri asked. "It's just a public appearance thing."

"Anything could happen," the ninja replied, "You know that. Yoritomo is a dangerous man, especially to those around him. If something happens, you may need some backup."

"Why, Hiroru," Daniri said. "I didn't know you cared."

"You're our ally, you idiot," Hiroru said. "As distasteful as I might find you personally, Toturi's Army looks after their own."

"I'll keep that in mind," Daniri said soberly, impressed by the ninja's sincerity. "Seriously, though, I don't think I'll need any help. I'm just going to the Palace. What could possibly happen?"


Kitsune Maiko shivered as she stared at the gun in her hands, wondering how it had gotten there. Her head throbbed in pain. She seemed to be having so many headaches lately. Since three days ago, about the time she'd gone to the hospital for her annual checkup. Had they given her something by mistake? Something she was allergic to perhaps? Things just seemed wrong to her, blurred. She got angry so quickly now, remembered every slight, remembered grudges she'd thought buried years ago. The worst part was the blackouts, moments like now when she'd simply come to and wonder where she'd been, what she'd been doing.

No, that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that it all felt so good. Even the headaches, had some sort of bizarre seductive attraction for her. She felt like she had so much power now, felt so exhilarated. Every time she filled up with hate it wrapped around her like an old lover, comfortable and exciting at the same time.

She pushed the feelings away. No, this was wrong. She wasn't like this. Sure, she'd always been a little put out by her lot in life. She'd wanted to be an ambassador like her brother Doi, traveling the world, meeting people, making a difference. Instead she'd taken the path of the shugenja. She'd succeeded more than anyone had suspected, ascending to the position of Jade Champion, but sometimes she suspected that was more because her sister was Yoritomo's wife than due to any real merit of her own. That was what people said behind her back, anyway.

"Well, I'll show them," she said out loud. "I'll just show them all."

Maiko's hand flew to her mouth, shocked that she'd said such a thing. What was happening to her? By the Fortunes, what was she turning into? Her head throbbed harder, and she closed her eyes to shut out the delicious pain. She had to attend the Emperor's audience in twenty minutes; she certainly wouldn't make it if she was still in such a state.

Another rush of anger welled up inside of her. Yoritomo had never appreciated her, not for an instant. Why should she bother to attend one of his silly audiences? He was probably just intending to announce his next foolish plan to bring chaos and destruction down upon the Empire, something he'd no doubt never seek her advisement for. No, he never listened to her. He was always putting Meda's advice before her own. That fool Meda. She saw how Meda looked at Yoritomo's position with greed and envy. Meda would see himself Emperor before this was through and Maiko wouldn't be a bit surprised.

No. No, he would not. The idea struck her in that instant. She'd keep an eye on Meda. She'd watch him very carefully. And the moment he tried anything, the moment he betrayed Yoritomo, she'd be there. She'd destroy him without a moment's hesitation and then Yoritomo would have no choice but to see her wisdom and value. Yes, that would be it exactly.

Maiko looked down at the gun in her hand again. How had it gotten there? She winced and shook her head, trying to clear the odd and violent thoughts from her head. Those thoughts weren't hers; she wasn't a violent person. She'd never hurt anyone in her life, even when they deserved it.

But they all deserve it, she thought suddenly. Especially Meda. Everyone has to stop letting people push them around some time. Her head throbbed even more violently, and Maiko found herself gasping in delight from the pain. She looked down at the gun in her hand once more.

What was happening to her?


Daidoji Eien looked over his weapons carefully, checking that each one was in perfect condition and ready for battle. He double-checked all of the straps and fastenings of his armor, a seamless blue shell of bulletproof Daidoji plastic. There was something about today. He had a bad feeling. Something terrible was about to happen and there was little he could do about it without being disloyal to Meda. As a Daidoji yojimbo, that loyalty was his focus, the center of his life, his very soul. He could no more disobey Meda than he could flap his arms and fly away. Eien sighed.

There was a knock at the door of his small chamber. Eien glanced at the door curiously. He was expecting no visitors. "It's open," he said warily, one hand on the butt of his pistol.

"Eien-sama?" said a feminine voice. A young girl slipped through the door of the room. She was dressed in jeans and a short blue tank top, with short white hair pulled back into a Daidoji Steelboys baseball cap. He recognized her face immediately.

"Kamiko," Eien said with a hiss, pulling his hand back from his weapon. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you, Eien," she said, her face serious. "About my father."

"I'm very busy, Kamiko," he said tersely. "With all due respect, come back some other time." Eien turned away to begin cleaning his rifle with a soft rag.

"What if there is no other time?" she asked.

Eien said nothing, but stopped polishing the weapon.

"You look like you're headed into a fight," Kamiko said. She sat down on a small stool near the door, taking off her baseball cap and toying with it in both hands. "Are you headed into a fight?"

Eien sighed. "Perhaps," he said. "In any case, it's always best to be prepared for the worst."

"Like during the invasion?" Kamiko said.

Eien turned slightly so he could see the girl in his peripheral vision. "I don't know what you are talking about, Kamiko."

"When the Senpet invaded," she said. "Father ordered you and your troops to withdraw."

"And I did," Eien said.

"But when he reversed those orders later, your helicopters sure got to the Palace quick," she said. "Almost as if you were ready."

Eien said nothing.

"My father's a good man," she said, "but it's difficult to understand him lately, isn't it?"

"What do you want from me, Kamiko?" Eien said. His voice had a slight edge of anger.

"I want to go with you to the Palace," she said.

Eien turned in his seat, livid. "Absolutely not!" he said, almost shouting. "Your father would not allow any such thing!"

"Oh come on!" Kamiko said. She stood up from her stool, eyes flashing. "You know I'm one of the best swordsmen in Dojicorp, and I've actually been in combat situations. Can the rest of your men say that?"

Eien's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Negative," he spat. "Still, your father-"

"What were my father's specific orders?" Kamiko asked.

"He said to gather the most loyal men, and to arm them with our finest weapons," Eien said.

"So he never specifically ordered you to leave me behind?" she asked, taking a step toward him.

Eien watched her, quietly furious. "No."

Kamiko's eyebrows rose. "Oh. Well, since you acknowledge my combat skill you must be questioning my loyalty to my father." Kamiko stood directly in front of Eien now, her arms folded, staring down at him. Eien rose to his full height and met her gaze. His cold white eyes tried to push her back down, but she stood her ground with quiet confidence. Eien was mildly impressed. He knew only a few people who could withstand his stare.

"Fine, then," he said. "You will come with us. Perhaps you can even save your father. Go get yourself some armor and suit up. I'd suggest wearing a mempo over your face, or your father will skin us both the moment he lays eyes on you."

Kamiko smiled suddenly, leapt forward and hugged the big warrior. "Thanks Eien," she said.

"Er," Eien returned the hug stiffly. "Okay, Kamiko," he said. He pulled her away and set her back on her feet. "I'll see you downstairs, all right?"

"Yes, sir," she said, saluting formally. She turned and marched out of the small chamber.

Eien shook his head and grinned, ever so slightly. He sat down again and continued polishing his weapons.


Sekkou risked a quick glance through the shattered glass doors. Outside, the parking lot was swarming with squad cars, Otaku motorcycles, and a large, tank-like riot vehicle. A pair of helicopters crisscrossed the sky above Lucky Star Center, and a line of riot troopers were gearing up to breach the mall. Sekkou whistled inside his helmet, and quickly jogged back behind the cover of a large cement fountain.

"What's up, bug-man?" Massad asked. The Jackal was lounging on the floor, chewing on a shish-kebab he'd scrounged up in the food court.

"The parking lot is swarming with police," Sekkou replied. "It's as if the entire damned Unicorn Clan has turned out to make an example out of us. I've never seen anything like it."

"Just my luck," Massad snorted, "The Unicorns would certainly love to get their hands on the two of us, eh?" He tossed the remnants of his meal into the fountain behind him.

"I don't plan to be captured," Sekkou replied. He checked the clip on his remaining pistol. Only four bullets left. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Suppose I am," Massad said. He stood and brushed off his clothes. All around them lay debris, wreckage, and the dead. The Locusts' initial battle with the police had not been a pretty one, especially due to the intervention of Massad's ghuls. "First day on a new job is always the worst, eh?" A battered undead police officer shambled up to Massad's side, and the Jackal threw an arm around the thing's shoulders fondly.

"You're revolting, Jackal," Sekkou said.

Behind them, the remnants of the mall entrance exploded in a shower of glass and metal. A half dozen heavily armored riot troopers burst into Lucky Star Center, scanning the devastated mall as they carefully plodded forward.

"Run," Sekkou said to the Jackal.

"Just a moment," Massad replied. He drew the odd glowing crystal from his vest, the Soul of the Slayer. He spoke a few words over it, and pointed it toward the riot troopers. As he did so, the bodies of nearby Locusts and police officers rose to their feet. Their eyes lit with the red fire of the ghul magic. The riot troopers immediately opened fire. "Now, while they're distracted," Massad said, and the two of them ran for the center of the mall.

"I sent the ogre to look for an alternate exit," Sekkou said. "He's up on the next level." They both glanced up, just as a helicopter hovered past the skylight.

"Will they dispatch troops to the roof?" Massad asked.

"I hope they do," Sekkou said. "That's how I plan to get out of here."

The two men ran up the escalator, now dead and stalled since the police had cut all power to the mall. The second level was cleaner than the first, as it had been spared the brunt of the earlier Locust-police battle. It almost looked as if the mall was simply closed. Only the distant sounds of screaming ghuls and rattling gunfire broke the illusion. Massad and Sekkou walked slowly along the second level, glass and tile crunching under their boots.

"Looks like your little training mission went a bit south," Massad said. "I think that we're the only ones left."

Sekkou shrugged. "The Unicorn have apparently tired of the state of affairs in little Jigoku. Let them have this victory, it will merely lead them to underestimate us during more important conflicts. Most of these trainees were worthless. They would not even have been worthy to be cannon fodder."

"How will Inago feel about this, I wonder?" Massad asked. He reached through the broken glass window of a bakery as they walked, snatching out a handful of cookies.

"I do not care what Inago thinks," Sekkou said. "His motives have grown exceedingly murky of late, even for my tastes.

"I guess all friends drift apart," Massad snickered. "Cookie?"

Sekkou glanced down at the cookie. "Get that out of my face."

"I guess you couldn't eat it with that helmet on, anyway," the Jackal chuckled. "Do you have a face under that thing?"

"Cease your prattling, Jackal," Sekkou snapped. "The Unicorn will hear us."

"Not with all the noise they're making. So what was that job in the jewelry store all about?" Massad asked, taking a bite out of one cookie and throwing the rest away.

"The shopkeeper was hiding a particular item I've been seeking for a long time," Sekkou said. "I hated to leave Jiro alone with it. I don't quite trust the boy yet, but I had little option. If nothing else, I'm sure the boy managed to open the safe and escape safely. He's a clever one."

"I'm good at finding people," Massad offered with a feral grin. "Tell me what the item was and I'll track Jiro down for you."

Sekkou glanced back at the Jackal. "I don't trust you either," he said.

"It's the necromancy, isn't it?" Massad replied with a feigned pout. "It always seems such a barrier to new friendships."

"Seven Thunders, be silent, Jackal," Sekkou spat. "If all your people talk as much as you do, it's little wonder you were outcasts."

Massad chuckled to himself, falling silent for a time. A moment later, the Jackal cocked his head curiously. "Do you hear music?" he asked.

Sekkou listened as well, then nodded. "Seems to be coming from in there," he pointed at a large music store. They slowly advanced and peered inside. Within, Kaibutsu sat before an electric organ, playing a slow, sad waltz. The keyboard looked ridiculously undersized to the pit fighter's hands, but he continued playing with little difficulty, a small smile on his broad face.

"Sons of the Pharaoh," Massad cursed. "Now I've seen everything."

"Kaibutsu!" Sekkou exclaimed as he charged into the store. "What in Jigoku do you think you're doing?"

Kaibutsu suddenly looked up, embarrassed. The music stopped. He stood up, blushing furiously. "Kaibutsu sorry," the ogre said. "Saw piano and remember hadn't played in awhile. Kaibutsu just wanted to see if he remembered."

"Well get us out of here and I'll buy you your own damn piano," Sekkou snapped. "Did you find us a way out or not?"

Kaibutsu nodded and pointed up. Sekkou and Massad looked up at the ceiling. The tiles had been pulled away, and the various pipes and wires above them crushed and pushed aside. The sun filtered through a large hole that had been punched in the roof.

"Marvelous," Sekkou laughed. The Locust climbed atop the organ and lifted himself through the roof. Massad followed a moment later. Kaibutsu crouched and leaped, pulling himself onto the roof with surprising grace. The three of them stood blinking in the sun for several moments as they took in the flat, grey tiled landscape of the mall's roof.

"Freeze!" shouted a surprised voice. An Otaku Battle Maiden stood atop the roof a dozen feet away, aiming a sniper rifle at them.

"GRAGGGHH!" Kaibutsu roared. The ogre brought both fists above his head and hammered them into the roof. A wave of shattered tiles exploded outward, causing everyone on the roof, Unicorn, Jackal, and Locust, to stumble and fall. The Battle Maiden scrambled for her rifle, only to find Massad standing over it, smiling. He pointed a pistol directly at her helmet.

"Well isn't that a riot?" he chuckled, squatting down in front of her. "We've met before, haven't we?"

She pulled off her helmet and tossed it aside. Long black hair spilled out around her shoulders and angry green eyes fixed on the Jackal.

"Yes, you're the one who shot my friend, Kamid," Massad said. "Back there in Shinjo Tower." He glanced at the badge upon her chest, reading the name. "Pleased to meet you again, Otaku Sachiko."

"You Unicorn have gone to an awful lot of trouble to stop the Locust, Otaku," Sekkou said. "Any particular reason? You've always shown more tact in dealing with us before."

Sachiko scowled at Sekkou. "Shinjo Tower has declared martial law in Little Jigoku. Your reign of terror is over, Locust."

"Not to sound trite, but it hasn't even begun, girl," Sekkou replied. "Now stand up."

Sachiko stood up slowly, carefully, waiting for any opening that she could exploit. Suddenly, a cyclone of wind swept over the rooftops as a Shinjo helicopter rose over the side of the mall. Sachiko quickly dropped to the ground, delivering a swift punch to Omar Massad's lower regions. She quickly snatched the gun from his limp grasp, seized his arms, and flipped him over one shoulder with a thud. Kaibutsu charged at her, but she brought up Massad's pistol and shot him directly between the eyes. The ogre screamed in pain and crumpled to its hands and knees. Sachiko spun and pointed the pistol at Sekkou. Sekkou held a long, thin wand in his hand.

"Do you know what this device is?" the Locust asked.

Sachiko scowled. "It looks like a Locust EMP wand," she said. "Try and use it; I'm not carrying any electronics."

"A wise move," he replied with a chuckle. "But I wasn't threatening you." He pointed the wand at the helicopter. "Now put down that pistol or all of your policeman friends over there in the helicopter will die. I imagine even a crash from this height will produce quite a brilliant explosion, what with the amount of fuel those vehicles typically carry. It might even take out a few of the rubberneckers down on the ground. What do you think, samurai?"

Sachiko glanced away at the helicopter and back at Sekkou, hesitating.

"I'd make a decision quickly, Otaku," Sekkou said. "I've only given you this much leeway because I assume you don't know of my reputation."

Sachiko threw the pistol to the rooftop. Massad staggered to his feet and picked it up, pointing it at the Battle Maiden. "You won't get away with this," Sachiko said.

"How quaint," Sekkou said. "I feel like I'm in an action movie or something. Now take out your radio, Unicorn. Tell that helicopter to land on the roof."

Sachiko reluctantly complied. The helicopter quickly settled into place twenty feet away. Sekkou drew his own pistol from his jacket, training it on Sachiko while Massad ushered the pilot and copilot out of the vehicle. Massad settled into the copilot seat while Kaibutsu lumbered into the back. "Do you know how to fly one of these things?" Massad called out to Sekkou.

"Of course," the Locust replied. "This was the plan." He backed slowly toward the helicopter.

"You won't get far," Sachiko said. "I'll find you."

"Not taunting me like that, you won't," Sekkou laughed. He fired the pistol. Sachiko stumbled and fell forward on the roof. The two helicopter pilots looked up at Sekkou in surprise and fear. "If I were you," the Locust said. "I'd not waste time chasing after me. Get an ambulance here while she's still alive. Good bye." The Locust turned climbed into the helicopter, the tails of his long jacket flapping in the wind kicked up by the rotors. He settled into the pilots seat and pulled at the controls, lifting the Shinjo helicopter into the sky.

On the roof, Sachiko clutched her stomach in pain and scowled up at Sekkou. He gave her a slight wave, and then the darkness claimed her.


"So what do you think this is all about, Keijura?" Koyo asked. The man fiddled restlessly with his video camera, his eyes on the Diamond Throne.

"Don't know," Keijura replied. The young reporter looked around the crowd nervously. The throne room was packed with people, reporters, politicians, and general social parasites, all gathered to hear the Emperor's latest announcement. If another situation broke out like the one in Dojicorp, there was likely to be even more bloodshed than before.

"You think it'll be something big?" Koyo asked. He looked over at Keijura with a wide smile on his face. Ikoma Koyo was new to KTSU, an zealous young man just waiting for his first big scoop. Keijura frowned. He remembered when he was the same way, and that wasn't very long ago.

"It's Yoritomo VI," Keijura replied. "Of course it's going to be big. You just make sure your camera's working. Whatever he's going to announce, we don't want to miss it."

"Gotcha, chief," Koyo said with a mock salute.

Keijura smiled and looked away. The sudden fawning respect the other news people now gave him was bothering, but he didn't want to seem impolite. In the last month or so, his luck had taken a turn for the better. He'd gone from being a no-name roving reporter to being one of the most recognized faces in Otosan Uchi television. He'd even heard rumors that the national affiliate was interested in giving him an audition. His career couldn't be better; he just wished things could have happened under better circumstances. The Imperial assassination attempt, the declaration of war, Medinaat-al-Salaam's destruction and the Senpet Invasion, he'd been the first to cover every story. He'd also been the first to shine each event with a glossy sheen of falsehood for the glory of the Emperor, and every time he felt he was losing a little bit of his soul.

"Hey, look over there," someone nearby said. "It's Akodo Daniri!"

Keijura squinted and scanned the crowd. Sure enough, there was the tell-tale shock of long blonde hair that was unmistakably Akodo Daniri. The actor had arrived quite late, but others were still making room for him in the front of the crowd. Some people had all the luck, Keijura noted. He'd been stuck in the back of the crowd, where his cameraman would be unlikely to get a good shot of anything important. A hush fell over the crowd and Koyo nudged Keijura with his elbow. "Check it out," he whispered, nodding toward the back of the room. "Here he comes."

The great doors at the rear of the throne room opened with a rumble of grinding stone. Between the two great doors stood a single man, dressed in the dark green ancestral Mantis armor. His face was covered by the shadow of the helmet, though his eyes could seen gleaming brightly within. A pair of kama hung upon his belt, short staves with a crooked blade at one end. His hands were loose at his sides, ready for combat. He looked more a conqueror than a ruler. The heralds shouted his name.

"All hail the Son of Storms, Emperor of Rokugan, YORITOMO!"

The people cheered, dropping into a deep bow as the Emperor strode into the chamber, with the exception of the reporters and cameramen. It was a general understanding that the media was allowed leniency in showing their fealty to the Emperor; after all, it was difficult to operate a camera when one was prostrate upon the floor. Yoritomo continued his march. His eyes were upon the throne alone as he advanced, unconcerned with the subjects all about him.

Keijura turned to Koyo curiously. "Where are the Mantis Guard?" he whispered. "They usually attend the Emperor everywhere."

"Yeah," Koyo said, furrowing his brows as he nodded in agreement. "That's really weird. I wonder where they are?"

The Emperor turned before his throne. He extended one hand, palm down toward the floor, and spoke. "People of Rokugan, loyal subjects, rise," he said. His voice was deep and full, filling the chamber without assistance of microphones or electronics. The courtiers and politicians rose at his command, and the Emperor seated himself. He sat in total silence, his eyes upon the rear of the room. The assembled crowd began mumbling softly among themselves, wondering what would happen next.

"The Emperor seems to be waiting for something," Keijura whispered, turning toward the camera. The broadcast would be going out live to all of Otosan Uchi. "What may happen next is anyone's guess."

Then another voice spoke from the rear of the chamber, and all heads turned to see the source.

"Son of Storms, Light of the Empire, Protector of Rokugan, Your Majesty Lord Yoritomo VI, Prince Kameru of Rokugan brings you greetings." The Imperial heir stepped into the chamber and bowed low to his father. The young man was also dressed in full, formal armor, and carried the ancestral blades of the Mantis upon his belt. A hushed murmur ran through the assembled court.

Yoritomo gazed down from his throne, meeting the gaze of his son. "We welcome you to our Palace, Prince Kameru of Rokugan. What news have you this day?"

"Great news, oh Son of Storms," Kameru replied. "News of the salvation of the Empire. The Fortunes smile upon us this day. We have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Yoritomo replied, a ring of curiosity in his voice.

"What are they doing?" Koyo whispered to Keijura, away from the camera.

"They're putting on some kind of show, obviously," Keijura replied. "They're about to reveal something big and they want to do it publicly. That'd be my guess."

"Yes," Kameru said. He smiled slightly. "The descendant of Shinsei."

The silence of the throne room was utterly destroyed. Flashbulbs erupted everywhere. Screams of outrage and cries of joy came from everywhere. Kameru and Yoritomo remained in their places, unaffected by it all. Keijura quickly seized Koyo by the collar, dragging him to the edge of the crowd, where they could be nearer to Prince Kameru. The reporter extended his microphone as close to the prince as he dared. "Prince Kameru," Keijura shouted. "Others have claimed to be the true descendant. How can you be sure this is really Shinsei?"

Kameru turned and looked at Keijura, his eyes hard. Keijura waited nervously for his response, hoping that his instincts hadn't carried him into hot water. "He was brought to us by the Phoenix Champion and an awakened Naga," Kameru said. "Monks of the Order of Karasu also confirmed just this morning that this man is the true descendant. And if none of that is enough to convince you, then perhaps you would like to meet him yourselves?"

Another murmur ran through the crowd. Yoritomo rose from his throne, lifting a hand for silence. The crowd quickly complied. "Yes, Prince Kameru," Yoritomo said. "We would like very much to meet the descendant of Shinsei. Bring him forth."

Kameru nodded. From somewhere in the rafters of the throne room, the rumble of taiko drums began. Kameru continued his march to the throne to the beat of the drums, and the Mantis Guard strode into the throne room behind him. In their midst walked a single man, a small, bald man dressed in robes of dark brown. He wore the symbol of the Order of the Dragon upon his back, and a deep hood covered his face. The Mantis Guard watched the crowd sternly, ready to force back any attempts to get close to the descendant and steal a glimpse of his identity. The doors at the rear of the room closed with a thud, sealing the chamber.

The Mantis Guard moved past the railing separating the crowd and the Diamond Throne's dais, spreading out into a line before the crowd. Kameru and the descendant continued walking toward Yoritomo, side by side. Finally, they reached the throne. Yoritomo removed his helmet, revealing his finely chiseled features and dark eyes. He bowed deeply to the descendant of Shinsei. The descendant returned the bow, then turned and stood at the Emperor's side. He threw back his hood and a confused murmur ran through the crowd.

Keijura gasped. He recognized the man instantly. "It's Hoshi Jack!" he said to the camera. People across the Empire were listening to his words right now, revealing their savior for the first time. "Citizens of Rokugan, the new descendant of Shinsei has been revealed and it is none other than the host of the Hour of the Tao, himself! This is amazing! Can this be possible?" He turned back to view the scene.

The crowd grew silent again, waiting upon the words of Shinsei and the Emperor. Finally, Yoritomo turned to Hoshi Jack, and spoke. "I, Yoritomo VI, welcome you to the Diamond Palace," he said. "I look forward to your advice and counsel."

Hoshi Jack looked at the Emperor for some time before he replied. "Unfortunately," he said, "I fear you have little time left to receive it. I sense great turmoil approaching your reign."

The Emperor's face became tense, angry. This part of the meeting obviously had not been planned in advance. "What do you mean?" he snapped. "How much time do we have left?"

The doors at the rear of the chamber suddenly flew open with a crash. The reporters and courtiers retreated coughing, a great cloud of dust rising from the shattered doors. Yoritomo's eyes narrowed as Doji Meda strode into the chamber at the head of a platoon of Daidoji soldiers.

"None," Hoshi Jack said with a frown.

Keijura swallowed hard. He was directly behind Meda's troops. A few Daidoji scowled at the reporter with frosty eyes.

"What do we do?" Koyo whispered.

"Keep rolling," Keijura replied. "By the Fortunes, keep rolling."


Yasu pushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes in a confused tangle. The wind kept pushing it back in his face, reminding him constantly why he never drove around in boats. He grumbled to himself and crammed his jingasa down upon the whole mess.

"What's wrong, Yasu?" Yasuki Kenben called from the front of the small boat. "Don't you like the sea?"

Yasu looked out at the water's of Golden Sun Bay, a sour expression on his face. "I don't trust anything that moves and can't be killed," he said.

"A shame," Kenben shouted back, a gleeful expression on his face. "I live for the sea. You really should give it a chance, Yasu. Can you do this on land?" The Yasuki pilot steered the boat directly into a large swell and hit the throttle, launching the hydrofoil several feet into the air. It landed in the water again with an explosion of spray and continued at full speed.

Yasu sat in the back of the boat, gripping the sides of his chair tightly. "Do that again, Kenben," Yasu said tersely, "and you'll get a chance to swim home."

Kenben laughed, unintimidated by the larger Crab. The Yasuki was in his element here, and flaunting it. Yasu concluded to himself that he'd have to give the man a solid thrashing once they got to Kyuden Hida, just to put things back in perspective. The giant castle loomed in the harbor before them, about a quarter mile out. Several other boats painted in the red and gunmetal of the Crab Clan were also headed toward the artificial island. None were headed in the opposite direction, toward the city. Kenben's hydrofoil slowly slid into one of the docks ringing Kyuden Hida, and was quickly hoisted into the depths of the fortress. They arrived in a large chamber with several hydraulic platforms, each containing a large amount of water and a Crab hydrofoil that had been pulled up from the bay.

"What do you think this is all about, Yasu?" Kenben asked, noticing the large number of Seekers standing around in the boat hangar. "It looks like we're all getting called back to the fortress."

"Beats me," Yasu replied. He hopped out of the boat and stretched his arms and back, pacing along the dock. "Maybe we're going back home. If so, that suits me just fine. I'm about ready to get out of the city. I just wish they would've let me bring my truck."

"Sick of the city?" Kenben asked. The small Yasuki jumped down to the dock beside Yasu, slipping a bit on the slick pavement. "But I'd heard you were getting real close to the Phoenix daimyo. It's all over the Doji Channel, how the two of you were seen hanging out together at the Emperor's ceremony the other day."

"That's exactly it," Yasu replied. "I didn't come to the city to baby-sit a Phoenix and end up on some stupid Crane gossip shows. And now Shinsei's here, too, for Hida's sake. If I stick around here, the next thing you know I'll find out I'm one of the Seven Thunders or something idiotic like that."

"Osano-wo help us all if that comes to pass," said a gravely voice from behind them.

Yasu and Kenben turned to see the source of the voice. Kenben blinked in surprise and bowed deeply. Yasu just smiled and laughed out loud. A huge samurai in silver and blue Seeker armor stood before them. He resembled Yasu greatly, but his face was more deeply lined, his hair streaked slightly with grey. At his side stood a shorter man with long black hair and piercing eyes, dressed in the loose vest and trousers of the tsukai-tsugasu witch-hunters. A pair of Hiruma bodyguards stood just behind them, looking distinctly bored.

"Greetings, mighty Tengyu-sama," Kenben said respectfully, "Mokuna-sama."

The Crab daimyo nodded slightly to the Yasuki and dismissed him. Kenben quickly headed for the hangar exits, calling to some friends he recognized. Hida Tengyu turned to Yasu. "Yasu," he said, his voice bland.

"Dad!" Yasu exclaimed. He strode forward and spread his arms wide. Tengyu arched an eyebrow disdainfully, then broke into a smile as large as Yasu's. Father and son embraced, their metal armor clanking together noisily.

"How have you been son?" Tengyu asked, stepping back to regard the boy. "I've heard nothing but good things from your uncle."

"Really?" Yasu replied. "Pure understatement, I assure you. Where is Toshimo, anyway?"

Tengyu's face clouded slightly. "He's still in the city," he said, a tone of worry in his voice. "He's making the final improvements on the Akodo War Machine."

"That piece of junk?" Yasu huffed.

"Don't knock it just yet, Yasu," Tengyu grinned. "Our arrangement with Kitsu Ikimura stipulates that Toshimo be provided a copy of Akodo's plans and be given permission to build our own model. It's already in the design stages."

"If it looks as silly as Daniri's robot, I'm not driving it," Yasu promised. "Mokuna," Yasu said, nodding to the witch-hunter.

"Yasu," Mokuna replied. "It has been a long time. My nephew sends his regards." The witch-hunter smiled slightly.

"How is Hojo?" Yasu asked, smiling weakly. Kuni Hojo was one of the few people Yasu could never beat in a fight, though not for lack of trying.

"He is fine," Mokuna said. "He speaks of you often, and looks forward to your next meeting."

"Okay, then," Yasu said noncommittally. "So, dad, is Kyuden Hida headed back to the Seal or what? It looks like everybody's being recalled."

Tengyu's face became very grave. He nodded to his bodyguards and they quickly excused themselves. The Crab daimyo looked around. When he was sure there was no one besides Mokuna and his son in earshot, he turned to Yasu. "What I'm about to say to you is extremely sensitive information. I ask that you do not repeat it."

Yasu nodded, his own face becoming deadly serious. "Of course," he said. "You can tell me anything, dad."

Tengyu took a deep breath. "Yasu, I know you're aware of the Crab Clan's recent difficulties. Portals to Jigoku have been tearing open all over the face of Rokugan. We have hardly enough Seekers to patrol them all, and little jade or crystal to supply them with. That's part of the reason we've made Kyuden Hida mobile, so that we can take the brunt of the clan's firepower wherever it might be needed at a moment's notice."

"I know that already," Yasu said. "I also know that Yoritomo doesn't seem to keen on giving us the supplies that we need."

"Yes," Tengyu nodded. "He only sees his own war as a real threat to Rokugan. He doesn't acknowledge the battle that we've been fighting now for two thousand years. The simple fact is, we need money and we need support and the Mantis just aren't giving it to us."

"But Doji Meda is," Yasu replied.

The Crab daimyo blinked in surprise and looked at Mokuna. "How did you know that, son?" Tengyu asked.

"I was with Toshimo the first time he talked to Meda, the day the ultimatum went out," Yasu said. "I figured that wouldn't be the end of it. Meda would talk to you eventually, try to get you to see his side of things. And then the truck just confirmed it. The upgrades Toshimo built into it this time around, there's no way we could have afforded them a month ago. So I did some checking, and those new weapons are all made out of Dojicorp materials."

"And I guess you know what Meda wants in return," Mokuna said.

"He wants us to get out of the way when he takes down Yoritomo," Yasu replied.

"Or, if the situation demands, help him," Tengyu said. "That's why Kyuden Hida has remained in the city so long. There's nothing wrong with her engines, she's just here as insurance for Meda's coup."

"Dirty business, overthrowing an Emperor," Yasu said.

"We'd hoped it wouldn't come to that," Tengyu said, "but Yoritomo has more Fire Dragons at his disposal and intends to use them. We can't let that happen. We can't afford to be as blindly loyal as our ancestors were, not when one man can destroy the world with the press of a button."

The three Crabs stood silently for a time, considering the weight of what had been said.

"Anyway, I have to hand it to your son, Tengyu," Mokuna said with admiration. "He figured out a surprising amount of what was going on with very few clues. From his reputation, I had not thought he would be such an intellectual."

"I'm a well-rounded sort of guy," Yasu replied. Actually, the entire business had been reasoned out by Hiruma Hayato, who he'd talked to earlier that day. Hayato was humble. He wouldn't mind Yasu taking credit for the discovery. "So I guess today's the day, then?"

Tengyu nodded. "Today is all or nothing. Meda will let us know if he needs our assistance. In the meantime, we're simply to wait. I've ordered all Crabs in the city to return to Kyuden Hida. So far, everyone has answered the call but one."

"Toshimo," Yasu said.

"Exactly," Tengyu replied. "You know how your uncle gets when he's in the middle of a project. We can't afford to lose him, Yasu. Not now of all times. I need you and Mokuna to go back into the city and find him. Bring him back here. Knock him out and throw him in a sack if you have to." Yasu grinned.

"Only if we have to, Yasu," Mokuna added.

"You take the fun out of everything," Yasu said.


Sumi sighed in exasperation and hung up the phone, loudly.

"What's wrong?" Mojo asked. The yojimbo was lounging in the corner of Sumi's study, thumbing through a sports magazine.

"I swear that none of those Crabs take me seriously," she said. The young Phoenix daimyo collapsed in a large wooden chair, rubbing her temples to alleviate the pressure.

"What did Yasu do this time?" asked Isawa Kujimitsu, strolling into the study with a broad smile.

"No, not Yasu," Sumi said. "I'd welcome Yasu's foolishness right now, believe me." Mojo rose an eyebrow at the statement. "No, this is his father, Tengyu, the Crab Champion. I think because I'm so young he neglects the fact that I happen to be the Phoenix Champion. He treats me like a child."

"Well, that's hardly a surprise," Kujimitsu replied. "The Crabs have been very careful with us, ever since they inherited the Dragon's duty as our guardians. Sometimes they're like overprotective parents."

"We're not children, Kujimitsu," Sumi said. "We're the most skilled shugenja and technicians in the Empire. You'd think if they had some sort of problem, they'd share it with us instead of hiding it from us."

Kujimitsu frowned. "What's the problem?" he asked. "What did Tengyu say to you?"

"He advised that I dispatch all Phoenix bushi and samurai currently on active duty to the Huburbs, to protect against possible spread of the Locust riot."

Mojo sneered. "That's miles away from Little Jigoku. There's as much chance of a meteor shower there as a riot."

"You don't have to remind me," Sumi said. "The Crabs are trying to distract us from something. I don't know what it is, but I have a bad feeling about it."

"You want me to go check out what they're up to?" Mojo smirked. "I'm not on active duty, after all."

"No, not yet, Mojo," Sumi said. "Though I appreciate the suggestion. We'll let Tengyu play his hand. I will assume that his intentions are still for the greatest good despite his methods. That is what an ally does."

"You're learning very quickly, Sumi-chan," Kujimitsu said with a grin. "You'll be a most shrewd daimyo, I fear. I'll have to pick the most stubborn shugenja I can find for the Elemental Council to keep you in check lest the Phoenix Clan take over the entire Empire."

"Thank you, Kujimitsu," Sumi said gratefully. "It's good to know not everyone thinks I'm incompetent. How goes your search for a new Elemental Council?"

"Quite well, quite well," Kujimitsu said. "After Asahina Munashi's suggestion to consider shugenja from other clans the task became much easier. I spent yesterday with some of my advisors, reviewing prospective candidates past histories and sending invitations out to several of them. Prospects are very high."

"Who are the candidates, if you don't mind my curiosity?" Sumi asked.

"I don't mind at all, Sumi," Kujimitsu said. "I've already heard back from Iuchi Razul's brother, Iuchi Hiro, who's very interested in a position as Master of Earth. I'm fairly certain that Hoshi Hisato of the Brotherhood would be interested in coming out of retirement to fill the position of Master of the Void. Ranbe Kuro of the Mantis would make a fine Master of Fire. The position of Master of Air is as of yet still open. I sent an invitation out to a particularly skilled shugenja, but he is a man of many responsibilities. I would mention his name, but for fear that I may upset the kami and cause him to deny the appointment. I suppose I am a superstitious old man." Kujimitsu chuckled.

"And a very wise one," Sumi said, returning the laugh. "You've held your position on the Elemental Council for many years, Kujimitsu. I wouldn't dare to argue matters of the kami with you. If there is nothing else you'd like to discuss, I think I'd like to get out of this dreadful study and stretch my legs."

"Actually, there was one thing," Kujimitsu said. "I was contacted by Shiba Gensu earlier this morning. He's been interim daimyo of the Shiba family since the death of his cousin, Mifune. He had certain questions regarding the succession of the Shiba."

"What sort of questions?" Sumi asked.

"Well, you possess the Soul of Shiba now," Kujimitsu said. "They wish to know whether you intend to ascend to the head of the family."

Sumi looked puzzled. "But I'm an Isawa."

"Truthfully, in name only," Kujimitsu said. "Zul Rashid is a Shiba, though an illegitimate one. Though most people don't know the truth about how the spirit transfers itself, the core of the Shiba family is very aware."

"But I was born to an Isawa family, raised an Isawa," Sumi said. "Surely they'd rather have one of their own as their leader?"

Mojo cleared his throat. "Sumi?" he said. "If I may say so, I think this may be more important than you imagine."

Sumi turned to her yojimbo. "How so, Mojo?" she asked.

"Well, the Phoenix Clan have never been a clan known for its solidarity. The Asako and Isawa have always been rivals in the field of spell-craft, and the Shiba have always struggled to prove their significance as warriors in a clan of pacifists. Only the Agasha get along fairly well with everyone, but there are very few of them. The Isawa have always had great power on the Elemental Council, and the word of the Asako carries great weight because of their duty to the Great Seal. All we Shiba have is our tie to the original kami that founded our clan, the Soul of Shiba. Many Shiba may feel that if we don't have the daimyo on our side, then we have nothing."

"Do you feel this way, Mojo?" Sumi asked.

"Me?" Mojo thought for a moment. "Well, no, I guess not. But then again, I've watched you grow up, Sumi. I know what sort of person you are. I know you'll always put the good of the Phoenix first. But the rest of my family? I don't know. They've been feeling pretty useless for quite some time and this might be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

"They wouldn't leave the clan, would they?" Kujimitsu said, aghast.

"It's happened to other clans," Mojo said. "I wouldn't be surprised. Gensu's a very proud man. I know for a fact that he won't bow down to an Isawa daimyo."

Sumi grimaced, running a nervous hand through her short black hair. "This is idiocy," she said. "We don't need this kind of ridiculous infighting, not now."

"I agree," Mojo said. "But then again, I'm not in charge. I think I'm about seven hundred and fifty third in line for daimyo of the Shiba. You could put all those other people in jail or something and I'd be happy to settle all this."

Sumi laughed despite her irritation. "Another good suggestion, Mojo, but no. I'll figure some way out of this. Couldn't I just change my name?"

"That wouldn't satisfy them," Mojo said. "They'd just think you were throwing them a bone or something?"

"Then what do they want from me?" Sumi asked.

"I would say they're after a political marriage," Kujimitsu suggested.

Sumi looked up at the Master of Water. "What?"

"They want you to marry a Shiba," Kujimitsu answered. "Then you'd be technically a member of their family. Everything would be amicably solved, and the Soul of Shiba would return to their bloodline."

"I'm only sixteen," Sumi said.

"Sixteen and the daimyo of a Great Clan," Kujimitsu corrected. "Besides, Rokugani women younger than yourself were often married in the past."

"Yes, and they slept in their own filth in the past, too," Sumi snapped, sitting back in her chair and kicking her feet on the table. "That doesn't mean I plan to reinstate the tradition."

"Please, Sumi, you're being unreasonable," Kujimitsu said.

"I know, I know," Sumi said. "I'm just frustrated, that's all. I don't like the thought of other people deciding my life for me."

"The burden of leadership," Kujimitsu said.

"I didn't ask for it," she replied. She buried her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes.

"Perhaps we'd better leave her alone for a while," Kujimitsu whispered to Mojo. "She has a lot to think about."

Mojo nodded. The two men quietly slipped out of the study, leaving Sumi to her thoughts. She looked over at Ofushikai, the Phoenix katana. It's pearl handle gleamed brightly from its stand.

"This is all your fault, you know," Sumi said to the sword.

The sword had no reply.


"What is the meaning of this?" the Emperor demanded. "Where is the Emerald Armor, Meda?"

Doji Meda glanced down at his blue Dojicorp armor. "I am Emerald Champion no longer," he said. "I renounce my position."

"Do you seek a greater one?" the Emperor asked. His hands gripped the arms of the Diamond Throne tightly. The Emperor barely held his rage in check.

"It is not my intent to bring discord to the Empire," Meda said. "Thus, I hope we can finish this without violence."

"Finish what?" Kameru snapped. He stepped in front of Hoshi Jack. One of his hands rested on an Ancestral Mantis blade.

"Yoritomo VI is unsuited to rule Rokugan," Meda said. He strode past the thick railing separating the crowd from the Emperor. "We of the Crane ask that he immediately renounce his throne." The room filled with cries of shock, roars of disapproval, and not a few cheers.

The Emperor cast his eyes over the crowd until there was silence. "And who would the successor be, Meda?" Yoritomo asked. "You?"

"If the people of Rokugan would have me, yes," the Crane said. "The time for monarchy is over. The world has grown too large for one man to control the Empire's destiny. Your madness will destroy us all, Yoritomo."

"The other clans will never support you, Meda," Kameru said. "You'll throw the entire Empire into civil war."

"I already have all the support I need," Meda replied. "I have taken precautions."

"Your Majesty!" shouted a guard near the base of the Emperor's dais. "Matsu Gohei reports that the gates of the Diamond Palace are sealed. A band of bushi from the Minor Clans have overtaken the gate-houses from within and turned the Palace's security systems on at full power. He awaits your command."

"Tell him to wait," Yoritomo said coldly. He turned back to Meda. "You are correct, Doji Meda. This is no time for the Empire to be torn by civil war. So I shall give you my throne." Yoritomo strode down the steps of the dais toward the Emerald Champion. The Emperor was not a young man, but he still bore the strength and grace of a man half his age. The kama appeared in his hands with a snap. "All you must do is take it from me."

Meda looked at the kama, then at the Emperor's eyes. "So a duel, then," Meda said. "The two of us battle, and whoever lives is pronounced Emperor."

"I think there are enough witnesses here to make my proclamation legal," the Emperor said, looking out at the sea of reporters and video cameras.

"Father, no!" shouted a voice from the crowd. One of the Daidoji soldiers pushed her way to the front. She tore off her mempo and threw it to the floor.

"Kamiko?" Kameru said in astonishment.

Meda's jaw dropped open in shock. "Kamiko," he breathed. "How did you get here?"

"You have to stop!" she begged. "This isn't right! Someone's making you do this!"

Meda's face clouded with doubt. He glanced down at the sword upon his belt. "I have come this far," he said. "If this is the only way to save Rokugan, then so be it. I'm sorry, Kamiko." He drew the katana; its blade glinted bright blue. The Emperor gestured to his men, and they stepped back to the edge of the railing, baring a large circle on the throne's dais with Yoritomo and Meda in the center. The men circled each other, faces grim and intense.

Kameru watched his father and the Champion. He wished he could do something to help, but he knew he could not. He glanced up, noticing Hoshi Jack standing by his side. The old monk's eyes were sad. "So this is how it ends," Jack said with a sigh. "For all of Rokugan's vaunted civilization, all your knowledge and wisdom, it is still through violence that important matters must be resolved. How do you feel about that, Kameru?"

"I don't know," Kameru said. "I just hope my father will be all right."

Jack nodded, and turned his eyes back to the confrontation. Meda leapt forward with a savage cry, his katana cleaving the air. Yoritomo fell back into a roll, a technique dating back to the Mantis' early days as sailors and pirates. The unorthodox move startled and unbalanced Meda, and his blade went wide. Yoritomo rolled to his feet behind the Crane, bringing one of his kama up as he did so and tearing a deep gouge along the back of Meda's left thigh. The plastic armor cracked and blood streamed from the injury. The Crane cried out and kicked with his wounded leg, causing the kama to fly free and clatter across the floor. Meda backhanded Yoritomo across the face, knocking the Emperor's helmet askew and sending him stumbling backwards.

On opposite sides of the duel, Kameru's eyes met Kamiko's. The two looked at one another fearfully, then both looked away.

The Crane turned toward the Mantis, his sword carving a fine arc in the air and coming to point at the Emperor's heart. Yoritomo pulled his helmet free, and held his remaining kama ready. Meda shouted in fury and charged toward Yoritomo. The Mantis hurled the helmet at the Crane. Meda deflected the helmet with his sword only to find Yoritomo on top of him, punching him repeatedly in the chest and torso with the butt of the kama.

Unable to bring his sword to bear in such close range Meda drew a short knife from his belt and slashed the Emperor across the face. Yoritomo grunted as his left eye exploded in blood. He seized Meda's wrist in his hand and hooked the kama down toward the Crane's face. Meda blocked with the hilt of his sword, tangling the kama's crooked blade. The two men stood there, in the midst of the throne room, the political center of the Empire, locked in a deadly stalemate. The first man to show weakness would die. Yoritomo was the stronger of the two, but was also more badly injured. His face and eye were gushing blood; it would not be long before he succumbed. Their gazes locked, and Yoritomo frowned.

"And you call me mad," Yoritomo growled. "You should see yourself, Meda. You're enjoying this."

Meda smiled a feral smile, his katana pulsing like liquid fire in his hand. Suddenly, the sword's heat vanished, taking Meda's strength with it. "Ambition," Meda whispered, glancing up at the blade in sudden realization.

"No," Yoritomo said. "Stupidity." He smashed his forehead into Meda's face, crushing the Crane's nose in a gout of blood. Meda stumbled and Yoritomo kicked the Crane in the stomach. Meda crumpled to his knees. He glanced up and hurled his knife at Yoritomo. The blade lodged in Yoritomo's left shoulder, but didn't slow down the Emperor's advance.

"No!" Kamiko screamed. "It's the sword! The bloodsword!" She pointed at the gleaming katana, now skidding off across the floor.

"Father!" Kameru shouted. "You can't!"

"Stay out of this, Kameru," Yoritomo said, not looking at his son. "Watch as your father distributes the Emperor's justice." He stood over Meda, holding his kama high above his head. "Order your men to leave and I will allow you seppuku, Doji Meda. Your coup is over."

Meda sat up on the floor, and time seemed to slow. He saw Yoritomo, cold and triumphant. There was no mercy in the man's eyes. He saw the eyes of Kameru, the Prince. He looked very young and very confused, joyous for his father but afraid for the father of his love. Behind him, stood the one they called Hoshi Jack, his face inscrutable. What was he doing here? And there, on the floor just out of reach, lay Yashin cloaked in the form of his family's Ancestral Sword. The blade gleamed brightly, as if to mock its master's downfall. How could it have replaced Shukujo? He had ordered Munashi to dispose of it.

"Munashi," Meda said out loud. The man was a skilled artificer, as skilled at manipulating artifacts of magic as he was at manipulating people. The old priest had the most to gain by Meda's death; everyone knew he was Lord Meda's most trusted advisor and most likely would look to him for advice in Meda's absence. He felt an anger grow in his chest, and he knew he had been betrayed.

Meda looked back at the line of Daidoji soldiers. Their eyes were grim, focused upon their fallen leader. One word. One word, and he knew that their course would be set. He could finish all of this, even now. Then, at last, he saw Kamiko, her blue eyes full of terror for her father. She loved him still, after everything he had done. If only he had a little more time.

"Well?" Yoritomo asked. "I ask you again, Doji Meda. What is your decision? Will this treachery be your fault alone, or shall I hold your entire clan responsible?"

Doji Meda wiped the blood from his face and looked up at the Emperor. "I've had my fill of violence," Meda said. "Perhaps we should try peace for a time." Meda looked very old at that moment, as if all the years and all of the troubles that had weighed upon his shoulders had caught up with him at last. His shoulders slumped, but his face was triumphant.

Yoritomo paused, seeing not an enemy but the man who had been his friend and advisor for these many years. For a time, the storm of anger and violence that had become the Emperor's world parted. "Perhaps I have been overzealous, Meda," Yoritomo said. "Swear fealty to me anew and perhaps we can avert more tragedy." The Emperor sheathed his kama, and held his hand out to the Emerald Champion.

A ripple of surprise floated through the crowd at the Emperor's sudden display of mercy. Even Hoshi Jack seemed taken aback by the sudden change of heart that had come across the two men. Kameru and Kamiko met each other's eyes again, hopeful at last.

"No," said a voice from the crowd. Kitsune Maiko stepped forth, drew a pistol from her robe, and shot the Crane Champion in the back of the head. Doji Meda's body sat motionless for a moment, then crashed dead to the floor.


The young Agasha frowned at Hatsu nervously. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to see Lord Hoshi," she said softly. "He left very strict orders for you to remain in your room until you were called upon.

Hatsu narrowed his eyes at the girl. She was hiding something, that much was obvious. "Why, Kyoko?" he asked. "Am I a guest or a prisoner?" He stood carefully, his legs unaccustomed to carrying his weight after so much time abed. He wrapped the sheets about his waist to cover himself as he searched through the drawers of a nearby dresser.

"Well, a guest," she said, her voice uncertain. "But you must know that there are extenuating circumstances. Lord Hoshi is very busy and your condition is very unusual." She took a step toward him. He noticed she moved a bit clumsily, as if she was uncertain where to step.

Hatsu turned and rose his eyebrows. "Unusual? Are you referring to the fact that my supposedly eradicated clan has now shown itself to be a secret society of doomsday cultists, the notion that I was wounded fatally and now seem to be walking around alive, or this glowing tattoo on my chest?" He gestured at the void kanji shimmering on his torso. "I hope you're not referring to any of those things, since they all seem perfectly normal to me."

Kyoko shook her head in disdain. "There's no call to be rude, Hatsu. I'm only trying to help you."

"I'm a detective, Kyoko," Hatsu said. He found a green kimono that seemed to be about his size and folded it over one harm. "The last thing you want to do is conceal things from me. Not only will it not work, but it tends to make me suspicious. Now are you going to allow me to speak to this Lord Hoshi or not?"

Kyoko sighed. "I will not stop you," she said. "You are headstrong, as was the Dragon Thunder before you. You will learn from your mistakes, as she did."

Hatsu paused a moment, taken aback by the resignation in the young woman's words. Why did everyone else seem to know more about his destiny than he did? A month ago, he had a nice, normal life. Now it seemed like what he knew about himself could hardly fill a thimble. Hatsu frowned and stepped behind the shoji screen to slip into the kimono. It was exactly his size and fit perfectly.

"What am I going to see on the other side of this door?" Hatsu asked Kyoko. He stood at the door of the room with his hand resting on the handle.

"Only you can discover that," Kyoko replied. She did not look at him.

Hatsu opened the door. Immediately, his head exploded with pain. The roar of a hurricane assaulted his ears, and his eyes were blinded by a kaleidoscope of colors. He could feel every sharp crease of the silken kimono digging into his skin, every rough pebble of the tile floor burrowing into his bare feet. A riot of choking odors assailed his nostrils, and when he opened his mouth to scream he could taste salts, spices, chemicals of the air in unthinkable combinations. He took a deep breath and remained on his feet, his hands clamped tightly over his ears and his eyes shut tightly.

"What is this place?" he snarled between gritted teeth.

"Welcome to Togashi Mountain, Hatsu," said an odd, deep voice. It sounded from within his own head, but the thoughts were not his own. "I am called Lord Hoshi. You carry my blood, and now we are as brothers."

"Hoshi?" Hatsu mumbled. "Togashi Hoshi?"

"Names are insignificant to beings like myself," he replied. "How are you feeling?"

"What is wrong with me?" Hatsu said. He opened his eyes carefully. The colors still blared, but his eyes had begun to accustom themselves. He could see a great shape standing in the blur before him, a man of gigantic proportions.

"Nothing is wrong with you. You see, hear, smell, taste, feel for the first time, Kitsuki," Hoshi replied. "The combination of my blood and your own has given you command of the blessings of the Void. The world holds few mysteries for one with such perceptions, but it may take some time for your body to adjust to its new abilities."

Hatsu pulled his hands away from his ears. The roar he had heard had receded. It was still there, but he was beginning to filter it out now. It was the sound of blood rushing through his own head, magnified a thousand times. The glare of colors now organized itself in his mind into emanations of light, heat, and radiation. He could see them all, now, as simply as another could see the color blue. He looked up at Hoshi, still a dark and ambiguous shape in the hallway before him. He had the limbs, torso, and head of a man, but his skin seemed to swirl with patterns of men and monsters. "Why can I not see you?" Hatsu asked.

"You see far more than I generally allow others to see, of that I am certain," Hoshi replied. "Still, a being such as myself must retain a bit of uncertainty. Now come with me, Kitsuki Hatsu. We have much to speak about." Hoshi gestured with one hand as he turned and strode off down the darkened tunnel.

Hatsu glanced about the tunnel. It was solid rock and there seemed to be no other exits. The door behind him, leading back to his room, had vanished. "You do not leave me many options," he said.

"You asked for a cessation of mystery," Hoshi said, turning slightly to regard the detective. "Now there is no room for interpretation. There are no options. Is this not what you desired? You have taken the first step, Thunder. Now you must see your journey through to its conclusion or die. Those are truly the only two choices anyone ever has. What will your answer be, Thunder?" There was no anger in Hoshi's voice, no malice, just a cold, unshakable logic. He waited patiently for Hatsu's answer.

Hatsu followed Hoshi into the tunnel. They walked in silence for several minutes. Hatsu could smell the presence of others, somewhere in the distance. He could hear the mumble of their conversation. Through the floor and walls, he could feel the hum of some great machine. The heat in the tunnel slowly rose as they progressed.

"You must have many questions, Hatsu," Hoshi said. "Ask them of me now, and I will answer them."

"You called me 'Thunder'," Hatsu said. "Tsuruchi Kyo said that I was one of the Seven Thunders. How can this be? The last Thunder was a Hitomi, and she is said to have had no offspring."

"Mirumoto Hitomi," Hoshi said with a nod. "A woman with many enemies, and a woman with a distinct vision. Many did not agree with her vision. She had enemies that would have sought to wipe out her bloodline after her passing, and she knew this. Her offspring were anonymous, given to loyal servants to raise as their own. And thus has the line of the Thunder remained alive."

"But how did the bloodline find its way to me?" Hatsu asked. "I'm not related to the Hitomi."

"Oh, but you are," Hoshi replied. "You know now that our brethren hide among the people of Rokugan, waiting for times when they are needed. We also watch over our Kitsuki cousins, assisting them when we can. Your father had such a protector, a Hitomi warrior of great martial prowess. Her name was Ishinomori. Together, they were the first to discover that the portal to Jigoku had opened once more. They nearly died during a battle against Oni no Kiri, a monstrous spider of crystal and metal. It was from that battle that Ishinomori adopted her personal mon."

Hatsu thought of the fan in his office, the spider and dragon locked in combat upon its surface. It was his sole keepsake of his mother. "Did my father know of the true Dragon?" Hatsu asked.

"Yes," Hoshi replied. "Soon after the battle, they were married and you were born. They lived in relative peace and quiet after that, waiting for the day that they would again be needed." Hoshi was quiet for a moment. "That day never came."

Hatsu turned to Hoshi. "How did my parents die?" he asked.

Hoshi stopped walking. He turned to Hatsu, and his great dark eyes met the detective's own. "Do you really want to know?" he asked.

"Yes," Hatsu said.

"We of the Hidden Dragon are but one side of a war of smoke and mirrors. Since the Shadow Wars, we have fought those who have sought to bring about the third Day of Thunder prematurely, as well as those who have sought to postpone it. The Dragon Clan's burden has always been knowledge of Rokugan's true destiny and what must be done to insure it. Your parents knew this. They were killed by those who would have darkness consume our world, agents of a creature that we now know only as the Stormbreaker."

"And what is Rokugan's true destiny?" Hatsu asked.

"Our world moves through realities that you cannot imagine," Hoshi replied, "Much as the planets and stars move in relation to each other. Every one thousand years, our world passes close Jigoku, the world of demons, and Yoma, the world of the kami and good spirits. Both exert forces upon our world in a manner similar the sun exerting gravity upon our planet. Both attempt to guide our path. Just as the planets are governed by the laws of motion, these planes of good and evil are governed by their own unique rules. Every one thousand years, there is a judgment. Every one thousand years, there comes a chance to either save our world or damn it. When Fu Leng fell to the earth at the beginning of creation, he created a pinhole into both Yoma and Jigoku, and thus it is Rokugan's duty to be the center of this judgment. This is what we call the Day of Thunder."

"What happens if Jigoku succeeds?" Hatsu asked.

"You can imagine the answer to that," Hoshi replied. "A thousand years of darkness. The death of everything that is good in the world. Jigoku has never triumphed in any of the tests, fortunately."

Hatsu frowned, perplexed. "Then if Yoma succeeded, should we not have had one thousand years of paradise?"

"No," Hoshi said with a deep, echoing chuckle. "Such is not to be. Good is different than evil, you see. Evil forces itself on whatever it can conquer, but good must be a conscious choice or it is useless. When Yoma wins the test, it gives our people a thousand years of opportunities to be good. It gives us free will. You'll see for yourself, soon enough, Hatsu. Akuma's invasion was a mere prelude. The true test is still to come."

"And I am to be part of this test?" Hatsu asked.

"Yes," Hoshi replied. "Before the first Day of Thunder, a man called Shinsei appeared to the people of Rokugan. We believe now that he may have been an emissary of Yoma itself, sent to communicate to us the rules of the test. At each test, seven mortal men and women must stand against a single immortal champion of evil. The identity and powers of the evil champion are seldom known until the last moment, but the champions of good are always of the same bloodline, the same family." Hoshi looked at Hatsu curiously for a moment. "Though it seems in your case that the rules are beginning to change. This worries me in a way that I cannot begin to express."

"Why is that so surprising?" Hatsu asked. "Change is a natural state of existence. If the rules were always the same, wouldn't that be even more worrying?"

Hoshi considered this. "I suppose it would," he said. "Admittedly, the champions of the Second Day of Thunder were not quite what I expected. A lecher, a ronin, a brute, a maho-tsukai. And those were just the men."

"You were at the Second Day of Thunder?" Hatsu asked.

"After a fashion," Hoshi replied. Hatsu thought he saw a slight smile on Hoshi's clouded face. "Even you would not have recognized me, I wager."

The two Dragons continued to walk through the tunnels of Togashi Mountain. The humming in the distance grew steadily louder. Hatsu folded his arms in his sleeves and was lost in his own thoughts. It was amazing how quickly one could adjust to abrupt change, he noted. If someone had tried to tell him he was a Thunder back at Shinjo Tower, he'd have laughed in their face. Now, he didn't find it funny at all. Shinjo Tower. How long ago was that part of his life? He wondered how Sachiko was doing without him, and if she thought about him any more.

"I must return to Otosan Uchi," he said abruptly.

"Of course, in time," Hoshi said. "Your appearance would cause much difficulty at the present, as you are believed to be dead, but eventually you must return in order to find the other Thunders."

"No, I must return immediately," Hatsu said. "I had a vision that I didn't quite understand until now. The true dragons seek to interfere with the judgment, to steer mankind toward the path of Jigoku."

Hoshi gasped. "Impossible. Dragons do not seek revenge. That is a human trait." The shadowy figure was lost in thought for a time. "But perhaps revenge is one of the things they learned from us. I pray that it is not."

"At any rate, the Dragon of the Void gave me a final clue with which we might save ourselves," Hatsu said. "He told me to seek an Asahina priest in the city, a man called Munashi."

"I know of him," Hoshi replied. "He is the caretaker of the Fantastic Gardens, in the Dojicorp Building itself. It will not be easy to gain entrance without drawing attention, Hatsu. The security systems are the finest in all of Rokugan outside of the Diamond Palace."

Hatsu shrugged. "I'll have to worry about that when I get there. Will you help me, Hoshi?"

The large man hesitated. "It is not like the Dragon to take such obvious action. But as you said, the rules seem to be changing. Yes, Kitsuki Hatsu, I will help you. When will you be leaving?"

"Right now," Hatsu said. He looked around at the tight earthen tunnel. "Well, as soon as I find my way out of this mountain anyway."

Lord Hoshi laughed.


"What happened to this one?" Nitobe asked. He jogged alongside the stretcher as it was wheeled down the hallway, glancing over the patient's chart as he did so.

"Gunshot wound to the stomach," replied an exhausted paramedic. "Looks like she was caught in the midst of that Locust riot. It doesn't look too bad, but she's losing a lot of blood." The young woman on the stretcher moaned and gritted her teeth in pain. Her breath was shallow and quick and her face was pale.

Nitobe nodded with confidence. He drew out a small syringe of painkiller, rolled up the girl's sleeve, and injected it. The paramedics wheeled the stretcher into a small, curtained-off area of the emergency room and stepped back. "All right, all right, away with all of you," Nitobe said, waving a hand dismissively. "I can handle this now. Surely you men are required elsewhere."

"Hai, Doctor Asako-sama," the head paramedic said, and they quickly departed.

Nitobe closed the curtain and looked upon the wounded police officer. He drew a small leather notepad from his pocket, his portable collection of healing spells. The doctor fell into a deep trance, pointing one hand toward the girl and intoning a prayer to the water kami. The spirits swirled in the air at his command, entering the young woman's wound. Some soothed her spirit, bidding her to endure the pain of the wound for a bit longer. Others engaged the wound physically, causing blood to clot and damaged tissue to knit. In a few moments the spell was done. Her breathing became regular as she fell into a deep sleep induced by the painkillers. The girl would live, though it would take some time for the wound to heal naturally. Nitobe breathed a sigh of relief and put away his notepad.

The doctor's eyes widened slightly as he noted the name written on the patient's medical chart. "Otaku Sachiko," he said with a whistle. "Why, you're one of the ones on my list. I'm not exactly sure what offense you committed to draw such ire, but I know what must be done about it." The doctor reached into his coat, drawing out a slender black rod about two inches long. He approached the bed and held the rod near the woman's ear. The device jumped in his hand, the end suddenly splitting to reveal a short, sharp blade. A dozen thread-like filaments extended from the thing, wrapping around the sides of the girl's ears and holding fast. Nitobe smiled. You had to admire the craftsmanship that went into those deadly little things. They moved like little spiders, and were just as single-minded in their function.

"For the Blood of-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked a voice from behind him.

Nitobe turned, smiling mildly. A young man in purple and white armor bearing the Iuchi mon held the curtain open. He was staring in horror at the thing crawling into Otaku Sachiko's ear. The man drew a pistol and aimed it at Nitobe.

"Sleep," Nitobe said. The man crumpled to the floor.

Nitobe drew the curtain shut again and kneeled next to the unconscious Unicorn. "Well, this is my lucky day," he said. "Iuchi Hiro, soon to be Isawa Hiro, incumbent Master of Earth. You're on my list, too." Nitobe drew another tetsukansen implant from his pocket and grinned as the end split into a tiny blade.

"For the Blood of the Phoenix..."


Kitsune Maiko stood a few feet from Meda, gun smoking in her hand, staring at the body as if confused how it got there.

"Father!" Kamiko shouted from the forefront of the Crane Troops. She drew her pistol and fired. Kitsune Maiko sprawled on the tiles of the throne room in a puddle of blood.

The Mantis Guard, seeing the Jade Champion executed, drew their own weapons and fired at the Cranes. The Daidoji fell back behind the cover of the marble railing and into the crowd. Daidoji Eien regrouped the Crane troops, ordering them to return fire as they retreated. Reporters and courtiers were caught in the crossfire. Many of them ran for the exits. More never made it. Yoritomo stood in the midst of the chaos, trying to shout orders to the Mantis Guard, trying to stop the battle that was quickly erupting. The Emperor's wounds were too great, however, and he collapsed on the floor beside Doji Meda.

Kameru knelt by his father's side, leaning against the cover of the marble railing. He quickly checked the side of his father's neck for signs of life. Hoshi Jack watched from a distance, his face sad, unperturbed by the bullets and fire that screamed through the room.

"Medic!" Kameru screamed. "My father is dying! The Emperor is dying! Someone help us!"

"Prince Kameru," said a Mantis bushi, ducking low and crouching beside the prince. "You are in command now. What are your orders?"

"My father," Kameru said, holding Yoritomo's body. "I have to help my father!"

"Kameru!," shouted a man, shoving through the crowd to crouch by the Prince's side. "What the hell is going on?"

Kameru glanced toward the source of the voice, a Mantis blade in his hand. "Daniri," he said, sighing in relief. He'd met the actor briefly during the Senpet invasion, and he'd seemed an honorable warrior. If nothing else he was a Lion; the chances he'd be a Crane sympathizer were fairly small.

"Yeah, it's me. Watch where you point those things," the actor said, staring at the Prince's still extended blade. "This place is going to hell fast," Daniri said. "You have to get your men under control. I'll take care of your father." "Do you know what you're doing?" Kameru asked.

"I've been in and out of the hospital more often than I want to admit," Daniri said. "I've broken almost every bone in my body and had any sort of injury you could name. You pick up a lot of field medicine in my line of work."

Kameru sheathed his sabre and moved aside so Daniri could see Yoritomo. Daniri glanced over the Emperor's limp form speculatively. The actor tore a long strip from his formal kimono and bound it around the Emperor's head, tying it firmly in place. "He'll be all right," Daniri said, "but I'd better get him to a real doctor."

"There's an emergency hospital ward on the seventeenth floor," Kameru said.

"Then that's where I'm headed," Daniri said. The actor stood and hoisted the heavy body of Yoritomo over his shoulder.

"You two, go with him," Kameru said, gesturing to a pair of Mantis Guards. "Good luck, Daniri."

"I think you need it more than I do, Kameru," Daniri said. "I'll see you later." He turned toward the rear exit of the throne room and broke into a sprint, weaving and ducking as well as he could with the added weight of Yoritomo

"I hope so," the prince said. The battle had spilled out of the throne room and out into the garden beyond. "I hope so." He looked at the floor nearby and saw Meda's sword, the lost Ancestral Sword of the Crane. He snatched up the blade, not even pausing to think why, and charged toward the garden exit. He hoped he could get there in time to try to stop the chaos, to try to rebuild his father's fragile peace. He hoped that Kamiko was still all right. He hoped she was still alive. Kameru burst into the garden where the fight was the thickest.

Everything went white.


"Some of this stuff is really amazing," Saigo said. The prophet balanced a curved metal tube on one finger. It spun lazily on a vertical axis, making a light humming sound as it did so. Saigo and Ryosei sat in a small room in the depths of the Factory, surrounded by toys and artifacts created by the Dragon scientists. A small dog sat on the floor, looking up curiously at the spinning tube. "How do you think the Dragons make things like this? It's all so amazing."

"I don't understand how you can be so shallow, Saigo," Ryosei snapped.

The tube fell from Saigo's hands, clanking noisily on the floor. The dog yelped and scampered under Saigo's chair. "Huh?" the young prophet said. He turned to Ryosei, hurt. "What did I do?"

Ryosei sat upright in a small chair, her lips pulled into a severe line. "You heard about what's going on up there," she said sharply. "The Cranes and Mantis are killing each other and all you can do is sit there and play with toys."

Saigo walked toward her, crouching by her side. "Well what do you expect me to do?" he asked. "Go upstairs and fight Dojicorp myself? The Imperial Guard would be just as likely to gun me down."

Ryosei shrugged, not meeting Saigo's eyes. "I don't know," she said. "I just... I just feel so stupid and useless down here."

Saigo laid a hand on her arm. "I'm sure your family will be all right," he said.

She looked at him. Her dark eyes were red from tears. "You're sure?" she asked hopefully. "You're really sure? Can you use your power and find out?"

"It's not that easy, Ryosei," Saigo said sadly. "The visions don't always come when I want them to. And when they do, they're like nightmares. That's why I started using the drugs. I didn't want any more nightmares."

"But I have to know," Ryosei said desperately. "I have to know if my father and brother are all right, even if I have to go up there and find out myself."

Saigo looked at Ryosei for a long moment, and felt his resolve crumble. He felt like such a fool. This girl had risked everything for him, and here he was denying her his help because he might get hurt. Apparently he could use his gift for a scumbag like Oroki but he couldn't help Ryosei? What sort of person was he? He reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. "Okay," he said. "I'll try. But I have to be alone for the trance to work."

Ryosei nodded. She leaned forward and grabbed Saigo in a fierce hug, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you'll do your best," she said. She rose and quickly left the small room.

Saigo pulled himself up into the chair. He stared at the door in wonder, one hand on his cheek where she had kissed him. The little dog hopped into his lap and licked his cheek.

"Well, what did you expect to happen?" snapped an irritated voice. "Two young people like yourselves running around in the midst of a great adventure the likes of which this land hasn't seen in an age. Then you're all surprised when you start developing hormones for each other. Young fools. When I was your age, we were taught how to restrain our emotions."

Saigo turned to see the figure of Isawa Tsuke form as if from a mist. The ancient shugenja looked down on his descendant with ancient, red-rimmed eyes, his red crystal crown gleaming darkly. He gave a sour frown and shook his head at the prophet. "Tsuke," Saigo said. "I thought you'd abandoned me."

Tsuke sighed. "Whatever I may have done in the past, I am not the sort of person to abandon a soul in need. What did I tell you, son? I can only speak to you when you're alone. Well, mostly alone." Tsuke looked down at the dog. "I suppose animals don't count since they can see spirits without magical assistance. You haven't seen me in two weeks because you haven't been alone since you were shot by that twit Kyo. That girl's been by your side ever since." Tsuke pursed his lips for a moment. "I will give you this advice, Saigo: Ryosei is a fine young woman. She is bright, caring, and I suppose you have noticed that she happens to be quite easy upon the eyes. You could do much worse than an Imperial Princess, son. Try not to screw this up."

Saigo smiled up at the dark Master of Fire. "Do you really think she likes me?"

Tsuke's eyes widened. For a moment, the ghost seemed to smile. "Yes, Saigo," he said. "For what it's worth, I think she does. Now get on with your vision, there's not much time."

"Not much time for what?" Saigo asked. He set the small dog upon the floor.

Tsuke sighed in exasperation. "Saigo, I'm just a mouthpiece, like you. The forces of Jigoku have the power of oni, we servants of Yoma have only the power of our prophecy. I have no way of finding out what you're supposed to see; my own powers have been greatly limited by the fact that I am dead. All I know is it seems events are coming to a major breaking point. Shinsei has been revealed, the Crane are attacking the Emperor, and the gates of the Palace are about to fall for the second time. Now go into your stupid trance and find out what we're supposed to do next."

"Yes, sir," Saigo said, nodding. He sat back in his chair and relaxed in the manner the Masters had taught him. He cleared his mind of thought, emotion, distraction, reaching only for the Void. The world around him slipped away to be replaced by a universe of symbols, shadows, suggestions of what was to come. He felt his heart beat faster and his mind grow cold. The power of the prophecy lifted his soul from his body, drawing him into its own world. Visions of darkness and light rocketed past him, assailing his mind and his soul. Saigo reached out desperately, seizing at whatever vision he could find.

Saigo saw a phoenix rise before him. Five points of light burned bright around it, and then suddenly grew dark. The lights rose again, but they were now tainted within by a darkness that the phoenix could not see. Only one light did not share this darkness, but even it was not the light it appeared to be.

Saigo pushed the vision away. No doubt it was an important warning of some kind, but all prophecies were important. It was all a matter of sorting the useful from the endlessly enigmatic. Prophets who didn't learn to do that quickly went mad trying to separate illusion from reality. He reached out again, this time searching for one that was more relevant.

"Yoritomo," he called out, hoping that the name would draw him to the proper visions.

Another image filled the prophet's mind. A great white mask, cracked and grinning. It sat listlessly upon a suit of green armor, waiting to be worn. Within it waited the spirit of destruction. Its wearer would find great power, but could also be destroyed by it more easily than he would guess.

No, that one was too distant to be useful. That wasn't what he was looking for. He needed to know what was going to happen to Yoritomo.

And another image struck him. A great mantis stood tall before the Diamond Palace. Before it lay a great white bird, wounded and defeated. A dying crane. The mantis threw back its head and laughed at its pitiful attempts to rise and peck at his thick armor. It turned back toward the Palace, striding up the steps. As the mantis walked, it left a trail of thick, black blood.

The mantis was unaware of the dagger lodged in its back, unaware that his blood was quickly spilling away.

Saigo gasped as his soul shot back into his body. He felt freezing cold and numbing fire consume his body at once. Pain shot through his skull as a thousand more visions tried to enter his mind, spirits from beyond desperate for a conduit through which to issue their warnings. Saigo forced them away, shoving them out of his mind. When he came back to himself, he was screaming. He ached for the drugs; Daikoku's Milk would make the pain go away. He saw a red face painted with a black scorpion, laughing at him. Then he felt a cool hand on his own. A pair of dark eyes looked up at him with concern and love. The pain was gone.

"Ryosei?" Saigo asked.

"I'm sorry, Saigo," she said. She was kneeling on the floor before him, holding his hand tightly. "I had no idea it would be so painful for you. I heard your screams all through the tunnels."

"As did I," said Hisojo, standing just behind the girl. The dog was running in circles around the old man's legs, whining in concern. "Hush, little Akkan," Hisojo said to the dog. "Saigo, are you all right, boy?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Saigo said, catching his breath. "I'm fine. But Yoritomo is in danger. Great danger."

"Father?" Ryosei exclaimed. She looked up at Hisojo. "I have to help him."

Hisojo frowned. "It's too dangerous," he said. "Violence has been brewing between the Mantis and Crane for quite some time. It appears that the Yoritomo Curse has struck again. I for one would not stand in the way of its power."

"Curse?" Ryosei asked. "I've never heard of any curse."

Hisojo sighed deeply. "I knew that your family kept their secrets close, but I had not imagined your father would keep this from you."

"Tell me, please," Ryosei said. "This could be very important."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Hisojo said. The old shugenja sank into a chair, and gestured for Ryosei to do the same. Akkan leapt into Hisojo's lap, and the old shugenja scratched the little dog absently. Saigo watched on the entire time, silent. "This goes back many generations, to the end of the Shadow War," Hisojo said. "Yoritomo I had been slain and his son quickly named himself Yoritomo II, seizing the reins of the fragile Empire. He needed to demonstrate his power to the shattered clans, show them that he could lead them. To do so, he publicly executed a rather notorious group of prisoners of war. The Kuni Witches."

"The Kuni Witches?" Saigo asked. "I've heard of them. They were supposed to be sympathizers of Akuma and the fallen Yogo, Ishak."

"That was what was thought at the time," Hisojo said, "Though we have since learned that many of them were probably innocent. Yoritomo II did not care. He would have done anything to unite the Empire in those grim times, even slaughter innocent men. He believed that the ends would justify any means he was forced to take. But then the last Kuni stood before his blade. Kuni Shikogu was a powerful tsukai-tsugasu who had escaped the Crab internment camps to fight against Akuma, only to be captured once more when he returned to rescue his family. He was clearly innocent, but had been condemned by the jealous and petty daimyo of the Kuni family. Shikogu looked at the corpses of his brothers, wife, and children. Then he looked the Emperor in his eyes and he cursed him. 'Violence shall breed violence in all who bear your name,' he said, 'Until the blood of Shinsei rises to smite your line down.'"

"An odd curse," Saigo said. "'The blood of Shinsei'?"

"The wording is very clever, actually," Hisojo said. "As Shinsei was for the most part a pacifist, he would have no reason to smite down a Yoritomo Emperor. The curse is intended to be an eternal one."

"Is that what's happening to father?" Ryosei asked. "His war is bringing the Empire down around him?"

Hisojo nodded. "Such is the power of the curse. Whenever the Yoritomo Emperors are forced into violence, matters grow worse. As in the case of Yoritomo IV. He personally assisted the Mantis Guard in putting down a peaceful Zokujin protest, and was killed when the protesters rioted and overwhelmed his personal guard."

Ryosei glanced upward once more. They could still hear the distant sounds of gunfire. "Then I have to go up there and warn them, at least. My brother doesn't know about the curse, either."

"Things may swiftly grow deadly, Princess Ryosei," Hisojo replied. "We still have no way of knowing who in the Palace has been implanted by our secret enemies. I might very well be sending you to your death."

"Then I'll go with her," Saigo said earnestly. The Phoenix rose from his chair, his face stern. "I can see who's been taken over and who hasn't. I'll protect her, Hisojo-sama."

Hisojo looked at the young prophet, his ancient eyes weighing the young man's worth. He finally nodded, satisfied. "All right, then. You shall go, the both of you, and see if our Emperor can still be saved. But you are both too important to risk. So I shall go, as well, and see to your safety personally."

Saigo began to say something, but quickly fell silent.

"What?" Hisojo asked. "What is it, boy?"

"It's just that," Saigo paused. "Aren't you a little old to be running around in such a dangerous situation?"

Hisojo huffed indignantly. "Is that so?" he said. "Boy, I've been protecting this Empire since you were in diapers. If you think you're ready to tell me how to do my job then know that you shall be entirely ignored. You just look at the future, Saigo. Leave the thinking to me." Hisojo rose from his seat and strode quickly from the room, clearly insulted.

Saigo slumped against the wall, looking at the floor. "I probably shouldn't have said that," he said.

"Probably not," Ryosei giggled. She moved directly before Saigo, looking into his eyes. "If it makes you feel any better, I feel a lot safer with you by my side."

Saigo smiled back at Ryosei. He felt his face flush as he realized how close he was. He'd never been very good with women. He quickly tried to invent some sort of excuse to separate himself from the chamber.

Then he gave up on it, and just kissed her.


"Boy, martial law really sucks," Chobu said to himself.

The young Badger was crouched in an alley, hiding behind several garbage cans as two dozen heavily armored Shinjo Riot Troopers marched past. Still in his disguise as Iuchi Fujinku he could probably walk right past them, but you could never be too careful. Tetsugi might have found out what Chobu had done to his credit card and turned his files over to the Unicorn, then that would be that. As a wanted felon and cop-killer Ichiro Chobu was still not a popular man in Shinjo Tower.

Chobu wondered where to go next. He had ten thousand hyakurai burning a hole in his pocket. Not a lot of money when you considered he'd sold the fruits of Tetsugi's credit card -over thirty thousand hyakurai worth of jewelry - to get it, but the fences who didn't ask questions tended to also pay a bit less. It was ten thousand hyakurai more than he had before, at any rate, and he hadn't even had to kill anyone for it. It would do just fine.

"You there!" shouted an annoyed voice. "What are you doing over there?"

Chobu whirled around. A scrawny old man wearing an apron stood in the midst of the alley, waving a broom. It looked like he'd just stepped out of the back door of a restaurant, which of course he had.

"Yeah, you!" the old man shrieked. "What are you doing on my property! Get out or I'll see to you!" He waved the broom menacingly. "I was in the Bayushi House Guard, I was!"

"Oh, I believe you," Chobu said, holding his hands out to show he meant no harm. "I was just looking for someone."

"You were hiding from the police, more like!" the old man grinned wide and pointed in the direction the Shinjo officers had marched.

"What if I am?" Chobu asked, putting his hands in his pockets. He could feel the small pistol he'd hidden there, bought with a bit of the money from the jewels.

"Maybe I can help you?" the old man said. "Maybe I got some connections?"

Chobu was suddenly intrigued, but he didn't release the gun. "Connections?" he asked. "What sort of connections?"

"You get your hand off that pistol," the old man said, "and maybe I'll tell you!"

Chobu blinked. "Okay," he said, removing his hands from his pockets. "I need to find a shugenja, somebody who will answer questions but not ask any."

"Oh, I know just the man you're looking for," the old man replied, leaning on his broom. "Just the man. I just hope you have some money."

"I do," Chobu replied.

"Good," the old man said, gesturing to Chobu as he walked back into the house. "Cause the Soshi don't come cheap."

The Soshi. Without a doubt the nosiest and most underhanded shugenja in the Empire. Not exactly what Chobu was looking for. On the other hand, they also had the best connections with maho lore outside of the Kuni Archives. He might not get another chance like this. Chobu heard the clanking sound of another Shinjo patrol. The old man peeked back out of the door. "You coming?" the old man asked.

"Yeah," Chobu said. "Yeah, I'm coming."


Argcklt crouched in the garden and wished for more snow. More snow to cover him up, to hide him, maybe to bury the wild men and their guns. An early winter meant a long winter. When the thaw came and the men awoke again it would be such a long time that maybe their anger would be gone and they could all go away from here in peace. He knew it was a vain wish, a silly wish, but it probably had more chance of happening than these manic humans getting along in peace for once.

The little Zokujin peered carefully over the bushes. A pair of green clad samurai stomped past, holding rifles at the ready. Argcklt quickly dove back behind cover once more. It was foolish of him, he knew, ever trying to become a part of the humans world. The elders had told him he was a fool, that he'd never be anything more than a "rock goblin" to them. To the humans, he was nothing more than a creature to be put to work in the mines and factories. Or even worse, to be destroyed, mistaken as a spawn of Jigoku.

Still, he held out hope for his dreams. He saw how the Nezumi had struggled, how they had achieved equality with the humans. They were still oppressed to be sure, but at least humans saw the ratlings as living beings. You could not kill a ratling in the street without fear of consequence. You could not put a leash upon a ratling and chain him down in a factory. Were the Zokujin so much less deserving? Of course not. Were they less willing to do what was right? No.

Argcklt had proven that when the strange gold and black men, the Senpet, had come to destroy the factory. They came to hurt his brothers and the Lions who guarded them. He had molded the very stone of the ground into weapons and fought back, saving his people, the Lions, and even the hated factory. The Lions had been grateful. They had freed Argcklt and his people from the factory despite the loss of profits that it would bring. Even the Emperor himself was told of the deed, and Argcklt was given a medal on the humans' television broadcast. Things had seemed to be looking up. Now all the humans were fighting each other.

"Never trust the humans," Zorglctfd had always told him. "They will offer you fresh stone with one hand and smite you when you come to take it." Argcklt had thought that the old man had been exaggerating, but now it seemed to be true. The one called Tetsugi had been very interested in speaking to Argcklt, in finding out more about the Zokujin's history, culture, and abilities. He had invited Argcklt back to the castle to talk to him further. And now he was caught in the midst of a fight bloodier even than the Senpet attack.

Argcklt didn't know what to do. Back in the factory, his course had been clear. Save his family, stop the invaders. Now, things were more confusing. Samurai was fighting samurai for reasons Argcklt didn't even understand. He thought he had overheard something about them wanting to destroy the Emperor. If that was so, why cause all of this death and destruction? In the Zokujin, if a man was a bad leader his people told him he was not good and he stepped down. They didn't shed each other's blood to no good purpose. He'd made a mistake in coming here. These people were savages. Argcklt turned to the garden wall and began peeling away the stone to make a tunnel.

Nearby, gunfire suddenly erupted again. A loud explosion shook the ground, and Argcklt covered his head to ward off the debris. Nearby, a man hit the ground hard and lay flat on his back. Argcklt glanced to his tunnel, already well begun by the young Zokujin's stone-melding talent. He looked back at the man. He was dressed in armor of bright green and bleeding from the mouth. A bright blue sword was clutched limply in his hand. Argcklt recognized him as the son of the Emperor, but he couldn't remember his name. He always had such trouble remembering human names. They sounded like water to him, quick and meaningless. Argcklt turned back to his tunnel.

"Kamiko..." the prince mumbled. "Kamiko, no..."

Argcklt looked up curiously again. He had thought that the prince had been dead. With the fall he had taken, he certainly should have been. Across the garden, more men in blue and white armor rallied, storming through the bushes and pushing back the ones in green. The ones in blue had come to stop the Emperor. If they found the prince, they would capture him, maybe kill him.

"This is not a Zokujin problem," Argcklt mumbled to himself. "Argcklt should seek to save his own hide before getting involved in human politics."

The prince coughed hoarsely, blood trickling from his mouth. He had a large wound in his chest, from which more blood issued. Zokujin knew the wound was grave. Without help, the prince would be dead in minutes.

Then Argcklt was at the prince's side, a lump of stone in his hand.

"Who?" the prince mumbled.

"Shh," Argcklt mumbled. "Enemies are close. Be ready, this will hurt."

The prince nodded. The Zokujin's hand glowed for a moment and the stone became molten. He pressed it against the prince's chest with a sizzle. The heat instantly cauterized the wound and sealed off the bleeding. The prince gritted his teeth and passed out from the pain. He would live, if his enemies did not find him.

Argcklt quickly returned to his tunnel, dragging the Prince of Rokugan along behind him.


The chamber was large and empty save the great pool of water upon the floor, a natural spring that ran through the basement levels of the Temple of the Elements. Fragile patterns of light traced across the ceiling, reflections of the gentle currents swirling in the pool. A small pile of silk lay at the edge of the pool, Zin's discarded kimono.

Zin's sat crouched at the edge of the water, a string of pearls in one hand. She watched the spring's surface, hypnotized by the patterns. The water was dark and slightly green from vegetation. It reminded her somehow of home. She had come here in hopes of finding the Akasha once more, of regaining the link to her people that Kashrak had once again taken from her.

Zin dipped one hand into the water. It was very cold; the early winter had carried its bite even into the underground spring. Zin cupped her hand and held it high, allowing the water to trickle over her face and neck. Again, she felt the impression of familiarity, of home. Without another thought, she dove into the pool.

At first, she couldn't think anything. The chill of the pool shocked her entire body at once, like icy fingers clawing her skin. Her eyes blurred and cleared as she felt them adjust to the water and darkness. She felt something pulse on either side of her ribcage. She realized to her surprise she was breathing the water through gills she had never known she had. Zin dove deeper down into the pool, now enjoying the chill upon her body, enjoying the feel of the water through her gills.

"Zin..." she heard the voices, calling to her. The Akasha.

"I am here," she said, a surge of joy running through her, "I am the Zin."

"The Zin!" the voices exclaimed, discordant and gleeful. "The Zin!"

"I am the Shashakar," said one, louder than the rest. "I am the one who brings the magic. By the Bright Eye and the Pale, we have awaited your return for a long time, Zin."

"I am here now," she said. She spoke aloud, and in her mind. She twisted in the water, kicking with her strong legs and moving quickly. "What would you have of me?"

"The disease has taken a new turn," the Shashakar said. His voice sounded suddenly murky, distorted. "The Akasha's Wound kills us now even in our slumber."

"Awaken then," Zin said. "Better to die fighting than asleep."

"Spoken true, but that is no longer an option," said another voice. Zin recognized it as the Shahadet, though she knew not how. "The disease now holds us in our sleep. Only those that are immune have awakened, and they are woefully few. We have sent them all out to seek the source of the Akasha's Wound, but only you were successful."

"There are other naga?" Zin said, hopefully. "Where?"

"Abroad in the world of Rokugan," the Shahadet replied. "The Kashrak has killed many of them. He can sense their presence as he senses you even now."

"Kashrak can sense me?" Zin asked. She froze in the water and glanced upward, as if expecting to see him standing there, watching her.

"We had thought him dead," the Shashakar said. "But in attempting to destroy you, he revealed himself to us. He is of the Akasha despite our attempts to cast him out. We were not strong enough. His power is beyond comprehension, as is his evil. You will never be safe from him, Zin. Not even among your human friends."

"What must I do?" Zin asked.

"Flee," the Shashakar said. "Flee before you bring your friends to more danger. Kashrak's power is greatest in the human city. He will be loathe to pursue you himself."

"Flee where? I cannot run forever."

"Return," said a third voice. This one was greater than the others, and seemed to hold all of the others within itself. Zin knew it called itself the Qamar. "Return to us in the Forests of Shinomen. Now that we know the source of the disease, we will give all that you require."

Zin nodded. "I will." She paused for a moment, floating in the midst of the water, a small smile on her face. "May I ask a question?" she asked.

The Akasha seemed confused for a moment. "Of course, daughter," the Shahadet replied. "Ask what you wish."

"A human once asked me what my name meant," she said. "I know that a Shahadet is a warlord, a Shashakar is a wizard, and a Qamar is a high lord of the naga. But try as I might, I cannot remember what a Zin is."

The Akasha did not respond for a moment. "Of course you cannot," the Qamar replied. "There is only one Zin. You are as unique as the Kashrak, whose name means 'The Disease.'"

"And what does my name mean?" Zin asked.

In some odd way, she felt the Akasha smile at her as the Qamar spoke. "The Cure."


"This. Is. INSANITY!" Matsu Gohei roared in feral rage, shaking his fists at the sky. He unsnapped the golden lion mempo that covered his face, allowing it to clatter loosely against his chest plate.

At the Lion daimyo's side, Kitsu Tono shook his head patiently. He had learned to weather his hot-tempered lord's storms of rage, but he nonetheless found them immature and annoying. "There is little to be done about it, Gohei-sama. If you had posted troops within the Palace as I had suggested-"

"I hadn't expected to get locked out of the blasted walls!" Gohei retorted. He glared up impotently at the Palace gates. Around him, five hundred Lion Clan bushi in full armor stood waiting for his command. In a one-hundred foot radius around the Palace the streets were empty, for within that radius the Palace's automated defenses would activate. The Lions had learned that fact to their displeasure earlier when the guns upon the wall had suddenly begun firing upon their patrols. Every time since then they had been driven back. Apparently it had all been the work of a few Minor Clan traitors. Gohei still remembered Toku Yaro's face grinning at him from an escaping helicopter. If he ever got his hands on that Monkey...

"What we need here are ideas," Tono said. "Try and think, Gohei-sama. I'm sure we can find a solution to this."

"It would be easy enough to breach the walls," Gohei snarled. "They're just blasted robot guns. It's not like they're thinking opponents."

"Breach the walls of the Diamond Palace?" Tono replied, shocked. "You would destroy the Emperor's home?"

"At the moment the Emperor's home isn't a big concern to me, seeing as how those blasted Crane are inside destroying the Emperor right now!"

Tono sniffed disdainfully, turning his head slightly to indicate he was ignoring Gohei's outburst. It was the only way to deal with such a ruffian.

Gohei sighed in exasperation and looked about at the faces of his troops. Most of them were young, untested. They'd never seen a battle in their life. They wore the colors of the Lion with great pride, but little confidence. How much his clan had changed since their days of glory. Once they were the greatest army in the known world. Now they were known as actors, news reporters. They'd become a clan of little more than entertainers. Bah, they'd become Cranes! Gohei's stomach turned.

Well, he would change all of that. He had the drive, and he had the influence. He was the Lion daimyo and Champion, was he not? True, often his words went unheeded in the courts and assemblies; his reputation for violence preceded him and drew a great amount of distaste from the more subtle Ikoma and Kitsu politicians. Still, he knew it was possible. He could hear the voice of the original Matsu Gohei, the one they called the Butcher, urging him on to greatness. He could lead the Lion to become a force to be feared again. All he needed was a chance.

This was that chance.

"I have an idea," Gohei said suddenly.

"Yes?" Tono said, bored. "What's your idea, Gohei-sama?"

"This," Gohei said. He punched Tono in the face as hard as he could. The little shugenja whimpered and fell in a heap. A gasp ran through the crowd as all eyes turned upon Gohei. The big Lion scanned the crowd with his eyes. One by one the soldiers looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze. "None of you deserve to be Lions," he shouted, pacing before them. "You've done nothing to earn it. You've done nothing to prove it. The Lion is a creature of strength, of courage. Where is your strength? Where is your courage? Where?"

The troops were dead silent. Many of them looked at the ground. None of them looked at Gohei, though all of them were listening.

"I will tell you where your courage is," Gohei said. He pointed at the walls of the Palace. "It is there, within the walls of the Diamond Palace. The sword of Akodo, Shori, rests within those walls. It is kept by the Emperor always, awaiting the time that it must be used. The Emperor requires our assistance now. This is the time. Let us unsheathe Shori and let the Lion's roar be heard across all of Rokugan!" The Lion daimyo stood in silence, waiting for his troops to dare to respond.

"What should we do, Lord Gohei?" one of them finally called out.

Gohei walked toward the sound of the voice, slowly, deliberately. He stopped at last before a young soldier. He looked barely eighteen, tall, and gangly. Gohei looked down into the young man's eyes, riveting his wild gaze upon the boy. The young Lion looked away nervously, then turned back, meeting Gohei's stare with all the courage he could muster.

"What do we do, Lord Gohei?" the boy repeated again.

Gohei drew his katana with a flash. The young soldier didn't flinch. The Lion daimyo reached up, strapping the golden mempo across his face. He pointed the katana at the walls of the Diamond Palace and said one word.

"Charge."


"Fall back!" Eien shouted.

The Daidoji's right arm hung limply, pierced by a Mantis bullet. He held his rifle in the left, firing wildly down the hallway as he retreated. Blood trickled from a gash in his forehead and his right ankle was twisted badly. Around him, his men looked even worse. Only a dozen were left of the original thirty, the rest had either been killed or separated. A good half of what he had left were wounded. Three needed to be carried. The Cranes had retreated into a small hallway to the west of the gardens, seeking some sort of rear exit to avoid the Lion soldiers guarding the wall. They'd run into a dead end, and now the Imperial Guard had them pinned down. Now Wasp reinforcements were beginning to arrive out in the courtyard. The Daidoji soldiers were grim, but determined. None of them would see Dojicorp again, but none of them would surrender.

"Chiyo!" Eien called out to a young samurai-ko. "Any reply?"

The young soldier shook her head as she turned the dials on a small portable radio. "We can't reach Kyuden Hida," she said. "The radio took a hit."

"They have to know what's going on here," said Yoshio, a wide-eyed man built like a scarecrow. "They have to know we're getting killed."

Eien glanced around the corner, letting off a few shots of suppressive fire to keep the Mantis where they were. "The Crab have very specific orders," Eien said. "If we do not request their assistance, they are not to give it. Meda didn't wish to compromise both of our clans in case of unsalvageable failure."

"You mean like what's happening now?" said Iku, a good-natured bushi whose sense of humor was quickly being torn away by the horror all around him.

"Yes, this would be a good example," Eien replied. Kamiko, are you with us?"

"Right here," the young girl said. She was holding a rifle and leaning against the corner of the hallway, occasionally firing bursts at the Mantis. She seemed to be keeping a cooler head than most of the rest.

"Help me keep us covered," Eien commanded.

"Yes, sir," Kamiko said. The girl's eyes were flat and cold. She was coping with the death of her father the best way she could, by throwing herself into the battle and trying not to think about it. Eien admired the girl's courage. To be so young and so brave. Most of the men he knew weren't half as strong as that girl. If only her father had been able to see that.

Suddenly, the gunfire from the other end of the hallway stopped. A thunderous explosion rumbled in the distance. Eien's blood went cold, as he knew the Lions had breached the Palace gates. That was why the Mantis had stopped trying to root them out. The Daidoji were heavily outnumbered now as well as trapped; all the Emperor's troops had to do was wait.

"What do we do, Eien?" Kamiko asked. "We need to find a way out of here, and quickly."

Eien glanced around the hallway they were in. Thick rugs covered the floors and bright silk paintings hung upon the walls, depicting the birth of Hantei X. The hall ended with a thick suit of armor on display. There were no doors, no exits. If the hallway hadn't hooked sharply to the right they'd have had no cover at all. "What's on the other side of that wall?" Eien asked, pointing at the armor.

"That would lead us back to the garden," said Hisae, a gruff, heavy-set soldier.

"What part of the garden?" Kamiko asked quickly.

Daidoji Ushiba limped over the wall, using her rifle as a crutch. She pressed her ear against the stone. "I hear running water," she said. "If it's that loud, we must be near one of the Diamond Falls."

Kamiko turned quickly to Eien. "Those falls are artificial. That water has to be draining somewhere, Eien."

Eien nodded. "Yamana, how many charges do you have left?"

The demolitions expert looked up, her face pale. She'd been shot in the chest by a Mantis. She didn't have much time left if they didn't find medical attention quickly. "Four," she said.

"More than enough," Eien replied. "Give them to me."

She nodded, confused by the order but obedient. Eien took the small squares of plastic explosive and walked carefully about the small hallway, listening against the wall and feeling the floor with his good hand. Finally, he knelt on the tiles and carefully set the charges at each corner of the dead end.

"Eien-sama, if those charges detonate, they'll kill us all," Hisae said. "What good would that do?"

"I'm not setting them off just yet," Eien said. He smiled one of his rare smiles. "Kamiko, Hisae, help me with this carpet."

They quickly complied, grabbing two corners of the thick floor covering and helping Eien heave it aside. The carpet rolled away to reveal the ancient stone floor beneath. Kamiko suppressed a sudden shout of joy.

"What?" Yamana said weakly. "What did you find?"

"The sewers," Kamiko said, pointing to a large, rusty grate on the floor. "They run right under this hallway. That's why they bothered to put so much decoration in a dead-end hallway. To insulate the sound of running water and cover up the unsightly sewer grate."

Eien motioned Hisae to his side and the two big Cranes pulled aside the rusty grate. "Quickly, everyone, into the tunnels," Eien said. "We don't have long before those charges go off."

The Daidoji fell into line, dropping one by one into the tunnels. The wounded were handed down to those below. Eien and Kamiko held the rear, covering the hallway with their rifles in case any of the Mantis dared pursue. As soon as Yamana had been handed down to those below, they broke into a run, carrying the wounded as quickly as they could. The tunnels were dark and wet, pierced only by the flashlights of those who ran in the vanguard. A river of water ran at their side, overflow from the artificial waterfalls above. A full minute later, the sound of the exploding charges rattled through the tunnel. Many of the Daidoji stumbled and fell, though this time they fell with exhausted laughter. Only Kamiko did not laugh. She stared silently back in the direction of the Diamond Palace, her eyes inscrutable.

"That should cover us for a while," Eien said, looking back. "The Mantis and Lion will be picking through that mess for some time."

"Daidoji Eien," a voice echoed through the tunnels. "Hardly surprising that I find you here. Your family seems to have a knack for surviving when they have little right to do so."

Eien turned, rifle in hand. The other Daidoji did the same, though the voice seemed to have no source. "Who's there?" the Daidoji commander demanded.

"It's me," the voice replied. "You didn't really think no one had thought of posting guards down here, did you?" Heichi Tetsugi emerged from the darkness of the tunnel, his Emerald Magistrate's mon gleaming in the Daidoji's light. Over two dozen Imperial Guardsmen fell into line around him. The Daidoji had nowhere to run, nowhere to maneuver.

Eien's shoulders slumped. After such an escape, he knew there was nothing else he could do. He had failed. His men turned to him, waiting for his command, ready to die upon his whim. He dropped his rifle to the floor, holding up his hand in peace. "My men were only following my orders," Eien said. "They're tired and wounded. Let them go and you can take me, alive." Eien hoped that Tetsugi would not notice Kamiko among his men. There was no telling what the Mantis would do to the daughter of Doji Meda and killer of the Jade Champion.

"The Daidoji daimyo would certainly be a fine prize to deliver to His Majesty," Tetsugi smirked. He shook his head slightly at the Crane. "But Eien-san, why would I want you? You died up there in that explosion, isn't that right? That's what I saw, at any rate." Tetsugi's men lowered their weapons and took a few steps back, making a path through the tunnel.

Eien smiled. "Hai, Tetsugi-san," the Daidoji said. "And dead men have long memories. We will not forget this." He bowed deeply to the Boar as his soldiers rose and continued to march down the tunnel.

Tetsugi returned the bow, a dark glimmer in his eyes. "No, Daidoji Eien," he said. "You most certainly will not."


Zul Rashid could taste his own blood, salty and coppery. He stumbled but kept running. If he were to fall now, there would be no second chance. Behind him, he could hear the shrieks and cries of the Byoki. He could smell the foul plague of the oni's breath. All around him, the shattered houses of the small town were silent. The snow was thick, laying upon the homes like a burial shroud.

"Stop your running, khadi!" the necromancer's voice called out from somewhere. "You cannot escape my pets forever!"

In hindsight, this certainly wasn't what he expected to find by coming home to the Phoenix Provinces. Holy Home City had once been a thriving town. Now it was a charnel house. All city had been cut off from all support. The Byoki had brought avalanches of snow and stone down upon the roads, sealing off all entrances and the airport had been destroyed. At the heart of it all was a man. Rashid had glimpsed him standing on rooftops, mocking him, directing the oni and other minions of darkness to hunt him. The man had seemed familiar, but Rashid could not recall the necromancer's face or voice.

Rashid caught a glimpse of himself in a store window as he staggered down the street. His left eye was now entirely mechanical, glowing bright red. His left arm had begun to follow suit; what once had been flesh was slowly being replaced by metal and circuitry. He could feel Oni no Kaze's power in him as well as its curse. He could turn that power on the things that followed him, destroy them with a thought. Perhaps he could destroy the necromancer, too. But what would happen to him then?

Rashid kept running as well as he could. The first of the oni scuttled around the corner several blocks behind him. The creature was over twelve feet tall, built like an enormous, gaunt human with a bulbous head. It's skin was covered with boils and a festering, tarry sludge that Rashid knew carried plague and disease. Several victims of that disease staggered in a crowd about the oni, men and women now animated by the virus that had slain them. The monster was a Byoki, one of the more deadly natural denizens of what was once the Shadowlands. Rashid had counted six of the monsters since his arrival here, enough for their plague to have wiped out the entire city's population. But how had so many of them been summoned? Only in places of great evil could the doors of Jigoku open so wide. Holy Home City was an ancestral sanctuary of the Phoenix Elemental Masters. It seemed hardly the sort of place to become a portal to hell.

The sorceror froze in his tracks. Another Byoki shambled around the corner, two blocks in front of him. It sat back on its haunches and cocked it's bulbous baby-like head, sniffing the air. It had no eyes, but it sensed Rashid's presence. It gave a baying howl that was echoed by the Byoki behind it. There was nowhere to run now. He'd never be able to outdistance the two of them now that they had sensed him. He tossed off his thick cloak and balled his hands into fists, ready to call upon the power of his magic.

"Well, come then," Rashid said. "Come and finish me if you can. I will drag the both of you to hell with me."

The two Byoki hissed in unison and fell into a lurching run toward Rashid. The horde of plague zombies stumbled along as well as they could keep up, brandishing bits of pipe and other makeshift weapons. A moment later, and they were upon him. He stood in the midst of the horde, lashing out with blades of lightning and wind. The zombies clawed at his flesh. He could smell their rotting charnel breath. Their foul, black blood spattered upon his arms and chest. The sorceror fought like a devil, but he knew soon their sheer numbers would defeat him. He was already exhausted from the journey here and subsequent pursuit. It wouldn't be long before his magic failed him. He could see the pair of Byoki sitting side by side behind the horde, waiting for him to falter.

The power of Oni no Kaze burned in his chest, tempting him, calling him. The power could save him. The power could smite down these zombies and the demons they served. All he had to do was submit to it...

No. Better to die than to become a minion of darkness. A hard decision for one used to immortality, but Rashid's course was set. His eyes narrowed and the blade of lightning crackled in his hand. They would kill him, but he would make them work for it. He struck out again and again, and at last the zombies called off their attack. Severed limbs and shattered bodies lay in a heap all about the sorceror. The remaining dozen zombies stood in a ring just out of the reach of his blade, glancing uncertainly from Rashid to the Byoki.

"Inkara shitabu kaskantu, ip Phoenix!" snarled one of the Byoki.

Rashid nodded and grinned. He had studied the ways of Rokugani demons and monsters thoroughly during his time studying with Kuni Mokuna at the Kuni Archives. In that time, he'd learned the language of the demons of Jigoku. "Why do you not die like the others, Phoenix?" the Byoki had said. Rashid thought it curious that oni always referred to mortal Rokugani by their clan, even when their clan was not obviously apparent as in his own case. It was as if they could smell the blood of the original Shiba in his veins. He decided to answer them in their own language. "I am Zul Rashid," he said, "Khadi sorceror and once Master of Air. I cannot die, though I suspect that you can."

The Byoki glanced at each other and began to hiss. They bounced where they sat, clearly agitated. "You speak the One Tongue," one of them snarled. "Not even the master speaks the One Tongue."

"Then I am your master," Rashid said.

The oni looked at each other again and hissed, confused by Rashid's response. "NO," the larger Byoki said forcefully. "You are not the master. The School only has one Master, and that is Ishan."

Rashid was inwardly satisfied. His gambit had been to attempt to make the oni reveal their master's name, and it had succeeded. He had to see how much further he could push them, how loyal they were to this master. "Your master is clearly weak," Rashid said. "Serve me and perhaps I will let you live."

The Byoki sat still, stunned by the sorceror's words. The smaller one turned to the larger, bewildered. The larger Byoki threw back it's head and howled. "FOOLISH PHOENIX!" it roared. "How DARE you threaten Oni no Byoki?" The oni's long arms raked the street around it, pulling up snow and pavement in its anger.

Rashid concluded that perhaps he had pushed them to far. He rose his lightning scimitar and fell into a fighting stance again. The two oni pounced at him, flattening several of the plague zombies in their haste. Rashid leaped to his left, summoning the air kami to carry him clear of their attack. The plague zombies' claws tore at his legs and something heavy hit him in the spine as he broke through their ranks. He rolled and came up in a crouch. His vision was blurry and his sword had vanished. The Byoki turned toward him once more, fetid saliva dripping from their great maws. The plague zombies moaned and stumbled in his direction. Rashid made peace with his gods, though after the life he had lived he doubted any of them were listening.

Suddenly, an explosion of flame consumed the smaller Byoki. The zombies glanced back dimly as the oni shrieked in pain and crumpled to the snowy ground. A pair of figures leaped from the nearest rooftop. One had skin of dark black, a silver crescent moon shining upon his face, the other's body was painted bright orange with the black stripes of a tiger. The dark one landed on the remaining Byoki just between its shoulder blades, wrapping a thick chain around its neck. The other landed in the midst of the plague zombies, lashing out with his bare hands and growling like an animal. The Byoki thrashed and struggled, lurching about the street as it tried to pry the human from its back. Its efforts were in vain; the dark-skinned man was well out of reach of the oni's attacks. Zul Rashid sat up against the bumper of a parked car and watched the melee in wonder.

In moments, it was over. The Byoki fell face first in the snow, it's life choked away by the thick chain. The zombies lay shattered on the ground, their remaining parts twitching listlessly. The two men stood in the center of the carnage, their bare torsos dripping with the tarry sludge of the Byoki. A third man stepped from the alley, a tall man with a golden dragon tattooed around his waist and the rising sun tattooed upon his forehead. He walked directly toward Zul Rashid, his hand extended to help the khadi to his feet.

"My thanks," Rashid said, accepting the man's hand and standing up awkwardly. "I am Zul Rashid of the Phoenix. I had not expected to be rescued by ise zumi."

"I am Hitomi Asahi, Lord of the Dawn," the man said.

"And I am Hitomi Shougo, Warrior of Days," added the one with the tiger.

"And I am Hitomi Mayonaka, the Master of Midnight," finished the dark-skinned one. "You know of the ise zumi, sorceror?"

"I have heard stories," Rashid said. "I did not know your kind had survived the Shadow War."

"It is true, our family is not what it once was," said Asahi.

"But we yet survive," added Shougo.

"It is the way of the Hitomi to survive," finished Mayonaka. The three of them seemed to speak as one person; even their voices and physical mannerisms were eerily similar.

"What has happened in this city?" Rashid asked. "I teleported past the blocked roads to find everything in ruins."

"We arrived here not too long ago ourselves," Asahi said. He looked off towards the rising moon. "We were sent to investigate shortly after the avalanche one week ago."

"The village has been overcome by a cult calling themselves the School of Enlightenment," Shougo added. He squinted as he considered the moon.

"Now only death walks here," Mayonaka finished, turning his eyes away from the moon. "We have found only one place in the city that is still safe from the Taint."

"And where is that?" Rashid asked.

The trio all turned toward Rashid as one, their gazes intense. "Why should we tell you this?" Asahi asked. "You bear more Taint than any living man we have seen."

"And we heard you earlier, offering your alliance to the Byoki," Shougo added.

"You are a killer," Mayonaka finished. "I see this in your soul."

Rashid shrugged. "Then why did you help me?" he asked.

"The spirits," Asahi replied. His gaze became unfocused, distracted. "They implored us to help you. They speak to me, sometimes."

"It seemed... wrong to let you die," Shougo added. "There is good in you as well as evil."

"Though whether there is enough good to bother saving remains to be seen," Mayonaka finished, folding his arms imperiously.

"Well, I owe you my life, Dragons," Rashid said. "I can only hope to be worthy of your trust." Another howl echoed in the distance. A Byoki had sensed the death of its pack-mates. "We'd best be moving, and quickly," Rashid looked off in the direction of the howls. "You said you'd found a safe place?"

"Yes," Asahi said. "The Church of the Shadow Samurai is still safe."

"Follow us," Shougo said with a gesture. "We will take you there, Zul Rashid of the Phoenix."

"But have a care, sorceror," Mayonaka finished. "We have our eyes on you."

Rashid nodded and quickly followed the trio of ise zumi. He wondered vaguely if he had just saved himself, or brought himself further trouble.


The doctor closed the door and drew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled one free of the pack with his mouth, then fumbled for his lighter. He nearly dropped it in surprise as he noticed the tall samurai standing in the hallway before him.

"Konichiwa," the man said with a hurried bow. "I almost did not see you there, Daikua-sama." He recognized the family mon on the bushi's armor, though he did not recognize the bushi himself. Not surprising; there were a hundred Mantis Guard in the Palace, after all.

"How is His Majesty?" the bushi asked in a stern voice. "I have come to look in upon him."

"He's fine, fine," the doctor said, nodding. "He certainly took a good beating, but I think he'll be all right. Even the eye isn't all that badly damaged. He's lost a bit of blood, but I think he'll be back on his feet within the week."

"May I see him?" the bushi asked.

The doctor hesitated. He caught the rank insignia upon the bushi's armor; the man was a lieutenant in the Imperial Guard. Surely there'd be no harm in letting him see the Emperor. Besides, if he'd gotten past all the guards downstairs he must be legitimate. "Well, all right but just for a minute," the doctor said. He opened the door and led the bushi into the room. On a large, white bed lay the sleeping form of Yoritomo VI. Bandages covered the left side of his face. His armor was neatly hung upon a stand nearby.

"He looks well," the bushi said, closing the door. "You have done fine work."

"Thank you," the doctor said. "I was a little nervous, he being the Emperor and all, but I did my best. I guess you get used to everything after a while, eh?"

"I guess you do," the bushi replied. His voice trailed off into a distorted muffle.

"Eh?" the doctor said. He turned toward the bushi. He didn't even have time to scream as the bushi became a mass of shadowy tentacles and consumed him with its darkness. The shadowy form pulsated before the mirror for a moment, then finally coalesced into the shape of Fatima. Her face flickered for a moment, the features momentarily becoming a featureless eggshell. The assassin rose one hand to her face, and it returned. The powers of the Assassin Guild's new allies did not come without a price, it seemed.

Fatima turned to Yoritomo, watching him sleep for several moments. At sleep, he didn't seem an evil man, but then no one ever did. During sleep you were at peace. You were at balance. You were also vulnerable. Fatima drew the syringe from her robes and inserted it into the Emperor's left bicep, pushing the poison into his system. It would not be long now. Fatima said not a word, but withdrew the needle and left the room. When she strode out into the hallway once more, it was in the form of the doctor.

She felt a little piece of her self drift away, borne forever into the shadows. She didn't even miss it this time. You got used to everything, after a while.


TO BE CONTINUED


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