The Burning was over.

Karg knew that he did not have much time. The Dark had not expected to fail. It would not be confused for long. The Dark had planned long and hard for this day. The Dark expected his people to be broken, hollow, confused, listless, but it was wrong. All of the torture, all of the pain, the subjugation, the slavery amounted to nothing. Not to a Zokujin. The patience of a Zokujin is eternal.

Karg slipped quietly into the Chamber of Blood, pushing the stone aside as easily as if it were a silk curtain. The minions of the Dark were here, but not many. Most of them had gone to the surface to fight the New Ones. The creatures with no legs, the ones who struck like demons with arrows of crystal and sabres of jade. The Dark feared these New Ones. They were angered that these creatures might have the power to halt the Burning of the Land.

And they did. The Burning was over, like a dream passing in the night. The Zokujin were whole once more, their minds and spirits their own. After the Dark's conquest a millennium hence, finally they were free. But it all amounted to nothing if the Dark completed its task.

The chamber was round and dark and large, large so that the minions of the Dark could enter freely. The walls were covered with a foul smelling hot and sticky syrup, a substance with the smell of rot and death, the blood of the wounded earth. In the center of the room, a pillar of earth rose, torn from the planet's bosom and fashioned into a pedestal. A gleam of white shone from that pedestal, a gleam so bright and pure that the minions of the Dark shied well away from it. With proper eyes, one could see the future in that light. One could see the past and the present and all the things that might have been. The stone was the past and the present and all the things that might have been. It was the soul of the earth, wrenched from its rightful place and fused into true material being. Karg thought that it was very beautiful, but also very sad. It did not belong here. It did not belong anywhere.

Karg knew the stone well. After all, it had been his own people that had torn away the earth's soul. After the Dark had defeated them, they had no choice. Their will had been stripped away, their souls leashed by the power of the Dark. They had only one choice: to wait for salvation. Luckily, the patience of a Zokujin is eternal.

Karg moved as quietly as possible, not even daring to breathe for fear that the minions of the Dark would smell his life. They were strange, dead things, these minions. Spirits with no being that stole the names of others to make them whole. There was no good in them, nothing pure or noble at all. They breathed death and dined on carnage. If Karg drew their attention, they would wipe his life away. Unless he could reach the Stone. He knew the stone could save his people, if he let it. The Stone could do anything.

"How fare the others above?" hissed one of the minions of the Dark. The creature was tall and spindly with wings of purest white. It's voice was strange, it's accent was alien, but Karg knew the words. The minions had stolen the Zokujin language, among many other things, after his people had failed on the Day of the Burning ten lifetimes ago.

"Ill, Zesh," chuckled another. It was large and round and with no eyes. A fanged mouth split the minion's head down the center, and it hunched like an animal. It gnawed on a thin bone covered with ragged green meat, the flesh of a Zokujin. "The New Ones fight well, and they know our weaknesses. It is said that the master has already fallen to the one they call Qamar." A rumble ran through the chamber, a rumble of battle, a rumble of thunder. That day was the first time Karg had ever heard thunder. It frightened him, but gave him hope at the same time. Creatures with such power on their side would make mighty allies.

The tall minion's eyes opened wide, glowing a strange orange. "Impossible!" he said. "Such cannot be! The master could never be defeated! The power of Jigoku wells within her!"

The bestial one shrugged, it's teeth clicking together with the gesture. "It is so," it said. "The time of the Choosing has come. I fear that even here, buried deep near the center of this earth, we will not be safe."

Zesh shook its head in agitation. Its wings fluffed out in a ruffle. "Not like this, Kamu," it said. "It cannot end like this. Slaughtered by snakes. We are so close, so close. The Zokujin have mastered their art! Already the stone holds one half of this world's life. Another week... another week and we would have been finished..."

Karg crouched low behind a mass of gummy blood, trying to ignore the lumps he felt beneath his bare feet. He did not look down. Many Zokujin had died summoning forth the stone, torn to pieces by the angry soul of the earth or by the Minions of the Dark. Their remains had never been cleaned from the chamber, a reminder to others of the price of weakness. The chamber was carpeted in the shame of his people. The Zokujin felt his heart flutter weakly in his chest. The Stone was much larger than he had expected, the size of a large boulder. It had grown swollen and pregnant with magic in the last few weeks. He would not be able to carry it. Further, each of the minions were easily three times his size. If either of them saw him, there would be no questions.

The tall one, Zesh, seemed not to be paying much attention to the stone. The other, Kamu, who could tell? It could be looking anywhere, everywhere. The power of the Dark was never to be underestimated. He could only wait here and hope for an opportunity. Karg crouched and waited, reminding himself over and over that the patience of a Zokujin is eternal.

"Perhaps it will be enough," Kamu replied. "I have learned from these living things, these Zokujin. Blood flows through them like magic flows through the earth. Take away even half a Zokujin's blood, and it dies. I know. I have experimented. Sometimes, half is not even required."

"Are you suggesting..." Zesh said, a feverish glint in its eye, "Are you suggesting that we destroy the Bloodwhite Stone now, while it is incomplete?"

"Why not?" Kamu replied. "It does us no good if the snakes destroy us and return the Stone to its proper place. We may as well leave this world a crippled husk in our wake. Let them have their world, for all it will be worth then."

"No!" Karg shouted. The Zokujin rushed forward and laid his wide hands upon the surface of the Bloodwhite Stone. The surface burned. He could see his bones through the skin.

"A Zokujin!" Zesh hissed, drawing a wicked blade of serrated iron from its belt. "But how? Their souls are ours!"

"Apparently, that has changed," replied Kamu.

Zesh reached Karg first, leaping across the chamber with a single flap of its huge wings. It lifted its sword high to cleave the little creature in two.

"NO!" Karg screamed, and the stone flared into life. Zesh shrieked, an inhuman wail beyond the depths of imagination. All that was evil in the minion was burned away by the fire of the Bloodwhite Stone. Zesh's iron sword clattered to the floor. The creature fell to its knees, sobbing, covering its face with its hands.

Kamu's massive maw clicked shut with a meaty slap. Zesh had been among the oldest and most powerful of the minions. He could no longer sense his comrade's spirit. It had been torn from the grip of Jigoku. For a minion of the Dark, such a thing was unspeakable. A minion's body might be killed, but the spirit was eternal. Kamu did not wish the same thing to happen to himself. The creature quickly turned and lumbered away.

Karg opened his eyes at last. He could see the horrified face of Zesh, staring up at the Bloodwhite Stone. He could feel the pulse and throb of the earth's lifeblood in his hands. He was tempted, in that moment, to keep the stone. Half the power of the earth would be his; enough to attain anything he desired.

But all he desired was for his people to be safe, and as long as the Dark could possess the stone, they would never be safe. He would take the stone from this place and hide it, hide it until something could be done. Thunder rumbled again, somewhere far above. He would bring the stone to the snake creatures. They would know what to do.

"What have I done?" Zesh asked, pleading. All that had been dark and foul within the demon was no more. He looked to Karg with eyes full of remorse and pain. "What can I do to atone?"

"Come with me," Karg said. "Carry the stone."

Zesh nodded. Wrapping mighty arms around the gigantic stone, the minion tore it from the bloody pedestal. A sigh of relief and pain came from the earth as it was removed, as if a painful splinter was withdrawn or a boil pierced. The minion fell into pace behind Karg. Karg ran. He ran as fast as he could, digging through the stone that blocked his path. Some of his people served the Dark still, no doubt. They had never known another life, they would not know how to react to their freedom. The demon, Zesh, was trustworthy. The Stone had told Karg as much as it smote the creature down. He could depend upon no one else. He would reach the surface. And then... well and then he would have to see.

How long he climbed, Karg did not know. He climbed without rest or food or drink. The magic of the Stone seemed to support him, giving him endless stamina. The road was long, and both creatures lost track of time. The sounds of battle and thunder became a distant memory. Still, he continued to dig. He never paused, never ceased, he would wait for rest when the earth was safe once more. Always, Zesh followed, never dropping his burden for a moment. As they journeyed together, Karg spoke to Zesh. He told the demon of the philosophy of the Zokujin, of their art and culture and the magic they worked upon the earth before the Burning began. Zesh was amazed, for he had never though of the Zokujin as anything more than a race to be conquered and subjugated. He learned everything that Karg would teach him.

And finally, the last day of Karg's journey arrived. A bit of rock was pushed aside, and for the first time Karg and Zesh saw Lady Sun. Both had heard legends of her, but had never believed them to be true. The sun was much smaller than Karg had thought it would be, almost as if he could hold it in his hand. Karg reached for the fiery disc, but could not quite touch it. The Bloodwhite Stone emerged from the earth at Karg's side, pushed up from below by Zesh.

"I cannot emerge from the hole," Zesh called from below. "Hurry and widen it so I can see the sun as well."

Karg nodded, and turned to free his friend from the stony tunnel. Suddenly, there came a clatter of hooves behind him.

"Another demon!" came a shout.

Karg turned to the source of the voice. The language was strange, much like that of the Kitsu. A great and terrible beast rode over the hillside, four legs and two heads and two stubby arms. One of the arms ended in a long, silver claw. Fearfully, Karg pressed his hands to the Bloodwhite Stone and willed it to burn away the evil thing.

Nothing happened.

The creature charged, cutting the Zokujin from shoulder to hip with a single stroke.

"NO!" screamed Zesh. The hole Karg had carved for the stone was still too small for the reformed demon to escape and help his friend. He could do nothing but howl impotently from his prison of solid rock.

"Is that another oni, Haruki?" asked a second creature, riding up behind the first. They were not two headed creatures after all, but small two legged primates riding upon beasts. This one looked down into the pit fearfully, keeping well away from the reach of Zesh's sword.

"Eh, it seems trapped, Hisanobu," said Haruki. "We'll call for some archers and see to it soon enough." Zesh howled in fury and stumbled off down the tunnel, looking for another way out. Its howls receded to nothing. Haruki laughed. "In the meantime, look at that!" He pointed at the gigantic white boulder, gleaming brightly. "What do you make of it?"

Hisanobu narrowed his eyes slightly. He was smaller than Haruki, but his eyes were more cunning. He lowered himself from his steed and approached the stone slowly. When he was close enough, he trailed a single finger along its surface. In its depths, he saw the rise and fall of Empires. He saw kingdoms born. He saw the kami die and fade. He saw the rise of the Ten Masters. He smiled.

"This is amazing!" Haruki said, strolling up beside him with a wide smile. "I can see all sorts of things within it! Did the oni bring this?"

"Apparently," Hisanobu said thoughtfully.

"What it must be to see through the eyes of an oni," Haruki mused.

"Indeed," Hisanobu murmured.

"We must report this to lord Hida at once!" Haruki exclaimed.

"No," Hisanobu said with a sudden grin. "I think not. Lord Hida doesn't have the sort of imagination to properly utilize a gift like this."

Haruki blinked. "But Hida is our Lord! He is our master! He is a kami, a son of the Sky! He is infallible! Invincible!"

"And that makes him a fool," Hisanobu replied calmly. Haruki fell to his knees. He never even felt the cut the quicker man had threaded through his abdomen. The poison quickly numbed his nerves, stole his consciousness. The young bushi died at the foot of the Bloodwhite Stone, laying beside a dead Zokujin hero that history swiftly forgot.

"No, there are others who would have much better use for a gem like this," Hisanobu said, wiping his dagger and replacing it in his sleeve. He gazed into the surface once more, pressing his palm against it. A tear welled up from the stone, depositing a smaller crystal in the man's hand. He held the little bauble to the sun and grinned. The Yasuki Estates were only a few days' ride away. "What it must be to see through an oni's eye..."

Beneath the streets of Otosan Uchi, Inago walked alone through the darkened chamber the Locusts called the Heart of the Machine. The so-called Champion of the Locusts was a quiet man, a brooding man. Outside of the Locust rallies, Inago seldom spoke to any but Inago Sekkou. Most attributed this to an introspective nature or a quiet arrogance that placed him above his lowly servants. In truth, the Inago's emotional distance was not caused by either of these factors.

The doors of the Heart suddenly opened with a hiss. Inago Sekkou strode quickly into the chamber, his long leather coat flaring out in his wake. "Inago," he said. "You called for me?"

Inago nodded, not looking at Sekkou at all. His eyes were focused upon the gigantic mechanical locust that hung from the ceiling of the Heart by metal wires. The symbol of a creature of boundless destructive power, restrained by a senseless mechanical construct that had long since outgrown its use. The sculpture had been one of Inago's earliest creations, long ago, before he had become what he was now.

Sekkou folded his arms behind his back, tilting his head to regard his commander curiously. "Well?" he said. "I have much to do, Inago. What are your orders?"

Inago turned to face his lieutenant. The leader of the Locust Clan was not a large man, but an aura of palpable menace hung about him at times that made him seem capable of anything. He was a being of chaos, of anarchy. Sekkou saw himself as a rebel at times, but Inago was something more. The vision that Inago had presented to Sekkou upon their first meeting years ago had led him to the Locust in the first place. Inago was a being of the sort that Rokugan had not seen in centuries. He was a conqueror. Sekkou saw something of that conqueror in Inago now, but there was something different. He had changed.

"Rally the Locust," Inago said simply. "Tell them to converge in the Heart in one hour, and not before."

Sekkou nodded. "What is the mission?" he asked.

"Today, we prepare," Inago said. "Tomorrow, the Locust ride upon the Diamond Palace."

"The Palace?" Sekkou replied, incredulous. "Why? We aren't prepared! We don't have the manpower! Gohei's army will tear us to ribbons!"

"They are unprepared," Inago replied. "Gohei's technology cannot compensate for our electromagnetic pulses, and I have contingencies if he should use shugenja. Tomorrow, Yoritomo Kameru will die. The Mantis dynasty will end, and the world will at last know the power of the Locust. We will strike a terrible blow against the power that is the Machine."

Sekkou thought for a moment. "No," he said. "This isn't the right time. Everyone is paranoid after the Senpet Invasion and Meda's coup. This is what they're expecting."

"You said before that you felt the Locust should not seek profit alone," Inago replied. "Is this not the revolution you desired, my friend?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Sekkou said suspiciously.

"New information has come into my possession," Inago replied cryptically. "I believe that we can succeed. Now, go. Rally the Locust."

Sekkou hesitated a single moment. "Yes, Inago," he said. He turned and left the room. The doors quickly shut behind him once more, locking.

"Mom?" Sumi said stepping quietly through the front door.

The house was as it always had been, as it most likely always would be. Low cushions decorated the floor, ancient ink paintings covered the wall. Lanterns provided natural light, while the music of a samisen drifted from somewhere. Isawa Neiko sat in the center of the room, leaning back on the cushions as she read a thick book. Her silver wheelchair sat a few feet away.

"Oh, hello, Sumi," she said, looking up at her daughter with a bright smile.

Sumi bowed low to her mother. She fidgeted from foot to foot, an uncertain expression on her face. "Mom, I had a meeting with the family daimyos the other day-"

"I know," Neiko said. "I'm not entirely secluded here, you know. I know you did what you thought was best, and I hope it works out for you. But why did you take so long to tell me?"

"I've put things in order here as well as I can," Sumi said. "Kujimitsu has chosen the last of his masters; the ceremony should take place today. After the ceremony, I'm leaving Otosan Uchi."

"Why?" Sumi's mother said. Deep lines of worry appeared on Neiko's usually youthful face.

"Because Zin is out there somewhere," Sumi said. "She saved my life once, and she probably thought she was helping me again by leaving without saying anything. She's in a lot of danger, mother. I've got the power to help her now."

"Are you sure that's for the best?" Neiko asked. "The families don't get along very well at the best of times. Perhaps this isn't the best time to leave."

Sumi shook her head. "Zin is in trouble now. I can't wait around for a convenient time to help her just because of this sword. I didn't ask for this position. You kept it a secret from me my whole life so the sacred honor of the Phoenix wouldn't be sullied. The same honor that makes the daimyos argue like spoiled children right now. It makes me sick. I just came to say good-bye, mother."

"What about the Soul of Shiba?" Neiko asked as Sumi turned to leave. "What do the past Champions think about this?"

"They don't control me either, mom, and I'm not about to let them," Sumi said over her shoulder. "But for your information, they support me. Zin's quest is more important to the Empire than any of the daimyos choose to realize."

"Sumi..." Neiko said. "I wish there was some other way. The daimyos won't like this."

"They don't seem to like anything I do," Sumi said. "I'll just have to deal with it when I get back." Sumi exited her mother's house, quietly closing the door behind her. She hated leaving her mother like that. She hated talking to her like that, she loved her mother and deep down she understood why she had hid the truth. Still...

"We always wish things could be different, Sumi," said a deep voice beside her. "Our past is defined by our missteps. Our future is defined by how we learn from them."

Sumi turned quickly. A large man in a dark coat stood beside her, the hood pulled up well over his face. For a moment Sumi thought she saw a dark glimmer in his eyes, a familiar light. She thought that she had recognized his voice.

"Hashin?" she said narrowing her eyes.

The man smiled. He threw back the hood to reveal a sharply chiseled young face, slightly foreign in appearance. "In a way," he said. "I am Moto Teika, his replacement."

"You're the new Master of the Void?" Sumi asked, confused. "But I thought Ranbe Kuro was chosen to-"

"No, I am not the Master of the Void. You still do not understand," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. "Speak to your grandfather's spirit. He knew Hashin for what he truly was."

Sumi rested her hand on the hilt of the Phoenix blade. Her gaze became unfocused as she spoke, the words escaping her lips not truly her own. "A bargain..." she said. "The Phoenix had always considered it their duty to protect the mystery of the Oracles... We felt that we had failed the Oracles in allowing them to die in the Shadow Wars, that our bond with them had been severed, that we had not done enough, that we should have forbade the Emperor from sending them into combat with Akuma's lieutenants..."

"It was our own choice, in truth," Teika said sadly. "Even Yoritomo II could not have commanded us had we not allowed it; we did what we thought was right."

"You're the new Oracle of the Void," Sumi said.

Teika nodded. "The spirits of the past Oracles, the spirit of the Void itself speaks to me, much in the same way your Phoenix blade speaks in your heart."

Sumi continued. "Shiba Ashijun prayed to Amaterasu for the Oracles to reveal themselves, for them to come from hiding and share their knowledge once more. He felt that their wisdom was needed again, and was ready to pay whatever price the sun goddess demanded."

"She agreed," Teika said. "The gods always answer our prayers, after all. Just not always in the way we would like."

"An Oracle would present himself to the court of the Phoenix, and be made a Phoenix, and forever after share his wisdom with his adopted clan..." Sumi said.

"And thus did Moto Hashin become the Master of the Void," Teika added. "Covering the burns he received from the Fire Dragon's blast, he took upon himself the guise and powers of a Nameless One to further conceal his origin and sat on the Council of Masters for decades. So it went until he died. He used his powers for gain, to save your life, Sumi. An Oracle of light may never do that, even when the cause is just."

Sumi looked confused. "He said that the deal had been made, and that his life was forfeit." She nodded, remembering the Master of the Void's last words. "I had always assumed that it had been the spells he used against Kaze that had killed him..."

"Still, that is not the full story," Teika said. "You know that it is not the full story. Hashin was allowed to become an Oracle, but destiny must maintain a balance. Amaterasu demanded a price."

"A Dark Oracle would become a Phoenix as well," Sumi said, again in the detached voice given by the Soul of Shiba. "But the Dark One's identity would remain a secret, even from his counterpart. All the knowledge of the Phoenix would serve the dark as it would the light." Sumi shook her head suddenly, regaining control.

"Not precisely true," Teika said. "A Phoenix would become a Dark Oracle. A small distinction, but an important one. Jigoku's power chose one already among your clan, one whose thirst for knowledge was matched only by his depravity. Jigoku gave him limitless power for both, and none would know who he was."

"Insanity!" she spat. "How could my grandfather agree to such a thing?"

"At the time, it seemed reasonable to Ashijun," Teika replied. "Surely he would uncover the tainted Oracle's identity. After all, he had the Soul of Shiba at his side. Even a Dark Oracle could not hide itself from the collected awareness of all the Phoenix Champions that ever were, had he but used the knowledge. Had he but the chance. He never did. A month later Shiba Ashijun went to the Burning Sands, and he never returned."

"Why did he go?" Sumi asked. "Rashid said he was an adventurer." Immediately, she knew the answer, supplied once more by the soul of Shiba Ashijun, now a part of the Soul of Shiba. Sumi closed her eyes. "The Master of the Void told him to go," she said.

"Every man may ask an Oracle one question, and the answer will be truth," Teika said. "The answer to Ashijun's question was Medinaat-al-Salaam."

"He asked about the Third Day of Thunder," Sumi said. "And if he could stop it. Hashin told him to go to the City of Stories, and stop the one called Kassir before he could forge a weapon of darkness."

"Why are you telling me this?" Teika asked, smiling slightly.

"I'm telling myself," Sumi said, irritated slightly. "The memories are there, but they come more easily if I speak. Not that it helps, I can't believe any of this. My life used to be so simple; now it seems nothing I knew is what it seemed to be. No one I know is who they appear to be."

"And it will grow worse, I fear," Teika said.

"Why did you come to me?" Sumi asked. "Why did you tell me this, now of all times?"

"Because you have proven yourself," Teika said. "You have chosen friendship over power. You have chosen what is right instead of what is easy. You have decided to help Zin, so I have decided to help you. I shall journey with you to the Shinomen, and observe. But there is something important I must do first, and I would ask that you come with me."

"What is that?" Sumi asked, suspicious. She wondered if she could somehow contact Mojo without Teika noticing. He seemed sincere enough, and the Soul of Shiba seemed to encourage her to trust him, but there was a detached air about him that she found disturbing. There was something not quite human about Moto Teika.

"A meeting of great historical significance, the likes of which have not occurred in nearly twenty years," Teika said. "A meeting of the Oracles."

"This is Officer Otaku Sachiko, open up."

The door was painted a bright orange, but beginning to chip. Painted on the surface, in slightly crooked letters were the words "Kohei, Faith Healer," and below that "Reasonable Rates."

"Rakki, help me bust in this door," Sachiko whispered.

"Huh?" the other cop replied, surprised. "Why?"

"He's too quiet," she said. "Silence is danger. Basic Battle Maiden philosophy."

They finally heard the sound of someone moving on the other side. The peephole in the door blurred over for a moment. "Holy cow!" said a surprised voice. "Looks like the Shinjo called out the military!"

Sachiko sighed and rolled her eyes. Rakki smiled and shrugged. "I guess he's never seen a Battle Maiden before," he said.

"If he doesn't open this door soon, he'll never see one again," she said, a slight snarl to her voice.

"Chill, chill," Rakki said, holding out his hands soothingly. "You need to control your temper, Sachiko. I'm sure he's on his way. He's an old guy, right? Least give him the count of four before you kick in the door."

"One..." she said, drawing her Ot-Nag baton.

"All right, I'm opening it!" said a harried voice. The door of the little apartment squeaked open and a grizzled, bearded man appeared on the other side. "What can I do for you, officers?"

"Good morning, I'm officer Shinjo Rakki. How are you today, sir?" Rakki asked in the good-natured tone he always seemed to have.

"Fine. Wow, a real Battle Maiden," the man said, eyes boggling at Sachiko.

Sachiko nonchalantly clicked a button on her baton. With a hiss, it extended into a six foot spear.

"You're staring," Rakki explained. "Officer Otaku doesn't like that."

"Sorry," he said, quickly looking away.

"No penalty for the first offense," Sachiko said with a wry grin. She collapsed the Ot-Nag and holstered it on her belt again.

"Are you Asako Kohei?" Rakki asked pleasantly.

"Er... no," the man said. "Well, I am... but I'm not. I'm not an Asako anymore. Not for six years now."

"Would you mind if we came in and asked you a few questions, sir?" Rakki asked.

"Um... sure, why not?" the man said. "Come right in. Sorry if the place is a little messy."

Sachiko whistled as she stepped into the apartment. The air smelled thickly of incense and the floors were covered with discarded pizza boxes and crumpled magazines. Empty cans and ashtrays heaped with cigarette butts occupied nearly every open surface. A single area in one corner remained neat and pristine. It was a small shrine of pure white wood with a single kanji inscribed at the base, the kanji of earth.

"You're a religious man, Kohei?" asked Rakki.

"I better be," he laughed. "I'm a shugenja. Once you start talking to the spirits, they get a taste for you. They get tiffy when you ignore them. Can I get you guys something to drink?"

"We're on duty," Sachiko said flatly.

"And I just quit drinking," the man laughed. "I meant like a soda or fruit juice or something?"

"Sure, whatever you've got," Rakki said. The man nodded and headed for the kitchen, a smaller, shabbier, even dirtier room to the right of the entrance.

"We didn't come here for fruit juice, Kohei," Sachiko said. "We came here because we think you might be able to help us."

"Really," Kohei said, returning with two glasses of lemonade. Rakki took one. Sachiko didn't reach for the other, so Kohei started drinking it. "What can I do for you, Maiden-sama?"

"Toturi's Army," she said. "Word is you've got some sort of connection to it."

Kohei laughed. "Me?" he said. "Oh boy, that would be cool, wouldn't it? What I wouldn't give. Nah, I got nothing on the Army."

"Do you know what the Army is?" Rakki asked, settling himself on a relatively clean chair.

"Do I know?" Kohei laughed again. "Well you can't live in Little Jigoku and not know about the Army. Hell, they're out there every day. You know, saving lives and stuff. I've seen them quite a few times, healed a few of them with my magic here and there. That's probably where the rumors come from. People saw me lending a hand and got ideas. No offense, officers, but those kids have been doing a damn good job of keeping the peace around here."

"So we've heard, so we've heard," Rakki nodded, grinning.

"Armed vigilantism isn't romantic or heroic, Kohei. It's illegal," Sachiko said shortly. "That sort of behavior only escalates violence. If people have a problem with the neighborhood, they should call Shinjo Tower for assistance or move somewhere safer."

"Well," Kohei ran a hand through his thick, braided hair. "No offense, Maiden-sama, but your purple knights don't always arrive in time. Sometimes, they don't show up at all. And as for moving somewhere safer? Well... Nobody chooses to live in Little Jigoku. You just kind of end up here. Me? I've got no love for the neighborhood. I'd move out in a minute, but the Dojicorp Building is running pretty thin on ten hyakurai apartments."

"Ten? Really?" Rakki asked, looking around the apartment. "That's not bad. Nice place, considering."

"Thanks. Faith healing doesn't even pay quite so well as police work, I'm afraid," Kohei replied with a chuckle. "Anyway, please don't bother the Army. They've got things hard enough as it is, and they're just trying to help out. They're good people."

"We'll be the judge of that," Sachiko said.

"We just want to talk to them," Rakki said, rising from his chair again. "Let me write down our number, okay? You hear anything, you call us." The young cop drew a notepad from his pocket, and began patting his armor down for a pen. Sachiko sighed and handed him one from her own pocket. Rakki scribbled down the phone number.

"Sure thing, I'll give you a call," Kohei said, taking the scrap of paper. "Sure thing. Sorry I couldn't help you out more, officers." The scruffy little man stood and escorted the pair to the door, closing it behind them with a final smile, wave, and bow.

He then immediately ran to his telephone and dialed. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up," he grumbled under his breath.

"Shotai's," said a voice on the other end.

"Yeah, hey, this is Tokei," the shugenja said. "We've got a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Shotai replied. It sounded as if he was chewing on something. That meant he was probably working in the kitchen; Shotai always ate while he worked.

"First time I see a pair of Shinjo Tower cops in Little Jigoku in like three months and guess what?"

"They're looking for us," Shotai said.

"Exactly," Kohei said. "They wanted to know if I knew anything."

"What did you tell them?" Shotai asked.

"What do you think I told them, man?" he said. "I gave them some lemonade and told them I was a good little law-abiding citizen and sent them on their way. Man. One of them was a Battle Maiden! A real Battle Maiden!"

"Amaterasu!" Shotai said. "What did we do to piss those chicks off?"

"I don't know, I don't want to know," Tokei said. "But you'd better tell Ginawa. I'm gonna lay low here for a little while. That whole visit smelled like a setup to me."

"Good idea," Shotai said. "Hey, you sure this line is secure?"

"Positive," Tokei said. "I've got an air kami living in it, scrambling everything I say so it sounds like I'm talking to a Scorpion phone sex line. I rigged it up two months ago after we started finding those Locust bugs all over the neighborhood."

"Cool," Shotai said. "Listen, Tokei, the Locust are starting to make a buzz again. We don't need to be fighting the cops, especially not while the Locusts are the real enemy. Some of the guys in the Army aren't exactly Shinjo-friendly. I know Mikio's got some unresolved issues with the local constabulary, and he isn't the only one. I'm sure that Battle Maiden would be pretty interested in Ginawa's blue-clad house guests."

"Exactly what I was thinking. Well, I'm sure it'll be okay. I'll be hanging out here looking like an honest citizen, case you need anything. Take it easy, man. I'll talk to you later." Shotai grunted in response and Tokei hung up the phone. The old shugenja exhaled deeply, shaking his head and scratching his beard with one hand. Shinjo Tower. Bad things. After everything that the Army had survived in the last few weeks, it would just be wrong for them to go down like that. Tokei kneeled down before his shrine and tried to clear his mind. What else could they do? They couldn't fight cops. That would make them no better than the Locust. There had to be a solution...

"So do you think that guy was on the up and up?" Sachiko asked, nodding back towards Kohei's apartment as they walked down the stairs.

"I think he was full of crap," Rakki said, "but he makes good lemonade."

"Really?" Sachiko asked, glancing back at her new partner. "Back there, you sounded like you believed every word."

"I was a harbor cop for three years," he said. "If a suspect thinks you're a friendly idiot, he'll talk to you just to make you go away. You talk to him enough, he might slip up and reveal something."

"My methods are more direct," Sachiko replied.

"No less effective, I'll bet," he said. "We had a nice good-cop/bad-cop thing going on back there. Just like an Akodo Daniri movie."

"Thanks," she said. "Maybe I should go back later, tie him to the ceiling, and put a hand grenade in his mouth. Just for reinforcement purposes."

Rakki was quiet for a moment. "You're kidding, right, Sachiko?"

"No, I regularly wander around Little Jigoku blowing up harmless ronin priests," she laughed lightly as they stepped out onto the street. "How's that phone tap working?"

Rakki drew a small radio device from his utility belt and held it to his ear. His eyes widened. "You don't want to know," he said. "Old pervert."

A pair of motorcycles waited for them by the sidewalk, one much larger and more dangerous looking than the other. "So where to next, Rakki?" Sachiko asked.

"I don't know," Rakki said, putting the radio back into his pocket. "This is your show, after all. Katsunan gave you the orders; I'm just following your lead."

Sachiko nodded and walked toward her bike. She pressed several buttons on the instrument console, and the screen displayed a computer image of Otosan Uchi. She zoomed in to the Little Jigoku sector and pressed a few more buttons. Some sections of the neighborhood began to flash red.

"Distress calls?" Rakki asked, looking over her shoulder. "Looks like Locust activity."

"It is," she said. "It's mostly focused here." She pointed to an area of five or six city blocks. Three dozen police distress calls had originated there. She frowned. "Most of these distress calls are unresolved, and they're hours or even days old. I figure these are patrols, protecting the Locusts' territory."

"Kohei was right," Rakki said. "A lot of these calls don't get answered. We just don't have the sort of tech to deal with Locust EMPs. I hear the Senpet have developed shielding for their military vehicles to protect them from that sort of thing, but it hasn't been a real issue for us. It wasn't the sort of thing the Shinjo Tower expected we'd run into in Otosan Uchi."

"The weapon you least expect is the weapon your opponent will use," she said.

"Is that another basic Battle Maiden philosophy?" Rakki asked.

"Sure is," she said, putting on her helmet and straddling her monstrous Otaku bike.

"Hey, hey," Rakki said, quickly hopping onto his smaller Shinjo motorcycle. "You're not planning on going after the Locust, aren't you? After Katsunan ordered you not to?"

"No," she said mildly. "I'm going after Toturi's Army. Toturi's Army fights the Locust. The Locust are a lead right now, that's all."

"Yeah, right," Rakki said, strapping on his own helmet. "And the fact that Inago Sekkou put a bullet in your torso has nothing to do with this."

"Nothing whatsoever," Sachiko replied, revving her engines. "Try to keep up." Her motorcycle roared off down the street. Rakki coughed on the dust.

For two days he had wandered through a dreamless, fevered sleep. Occasionally, he'd awaken for short periods. The faces of strangers blurred past, worried and determined. The clank and whir of odd machinery hammered in his ears. The hiss and whine of tetsukami hovered somewhere in the distance. Finally, Orin Wake sat up in his bed.

"Alive at last, eh?" said Daidoji Ishio, the big Crane soldier who had helped him escape Level Zeta. Ishio was sitting on a low couch in the corner of the room, thumbing through a thick book. He had replaced his prison uniform with a simple black jumpsuit. "Bah," he said, tossing the book onto a table nearby. "All these Dragons have to read are science textbooks."

"Dragons?" Orin said, rubbing his head and appraising his surroundings. The room was very small, but well lit. The walls seemed to be made of solid stone. A small bookcase sat against one wall, lined with ancient scrolls and leather bound volumes. Two doors led from the room, both of heavy oak. "Where are we?"

"Under the Diamond Palace," Ishio said, rising from the couch and stretching. The big soldier's back and neck popped as he worked his limbs. "Meliko called this place the Factory. It's crawling with Dragons. Mirumoto, Agasha, Togashi, Hitomi, all those guys who are supposed to be dead. Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are, man. They've kept me here with you. They won't let me wander around and look at stuff and push buttons." Ishio sat back down, a sulky expression on his big face.

"You mentioned Meliko?" Orin said. "The girl who saved me? Is she here?"

Ishio nodded. "She came in to check on you a little while ago. She's in the bathroom now." He pointed with his thumb toward the smaller door.

Orin nodded. He rose from his bed, noting that the Dragons had outfitted him in a simple black jumpsuit similar to Ishio's. He knocked at the bathroom door, then waited several moments and knocked again when there was no response. He looked at Ishio. The Crane shrugged and picked up his book again. Orin opened the door and stepped inside. Meliko was seated cross-legged on the floor of the small bathroom, her eyes closed in deep meditation. She held her hands out to either side, fingers folded in complex patterns as she chanted quietly to herself. Orin stopped cold. At first, he had thought Meliko was wearing a strangely painted leotard covered with odd patterns, but she was only wearing a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt. Her skin itself was a patchwork of strange colors and odd tattoos, seeming to swirl and realign themselves constantly.

"Blood of Kharsis," he swore, quickly closing the door behind him.

Meliko's eyes opened immediately. They glowed a bright green. The girl sprang to her feet in a single motion, rising into a fighting stance. Before Orin even heard the punch, he found himself sitting on the floor clutching a bleeding nose.

"Dammit, woman, what's your problem?" he shouted.

"Where I come from, you knock before walking into a room!" she shouted. She quickly jumped into the shower and closed the curtain around herself.

"I did knock!" he snapped, rising to his feet once more.

Meliko's tiny face peeked around the edge of the curtain. Her eyes no longer glowed. Her face was its normal color once more. "You did?" she said tentatively.

"Twice," he growled.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry." She stepped out of the shower again. Now her skin was completely normal, though very tan. She bore no tattoos whatsoever, not even the ones she had shown to the Wasps two days earlier. She patted down her spiky green hair with one hand and looked slightly embarrassed as she handed Orin a wad of toilet paper to staunch the bleeding. "You should get some ice," she said.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" Ishio called out from the other room. He sounded mildly concerned.

"Nothing," he said. "We're fine. Meliko just broke my nose."

"Oh. Okay."

Meliko winced. She stepped closer to Orin reaching for his face with one hand. The big gaijin waved her away, irritated. "Did I really break your nose?" she asked.

"Probably, but it isn't the first time so don't feel bad," he grumbled, checking his face out in the mirror. "At least the bleeding is starting to slow down."

Meliko leaned against the bathroom door and looked like she wanted to melt into the wall. She hugged her arms to herself and tried to smile innocently. "I really am sorry," she said. "I just sort of snapped. I don't like it when people interrupt my meditation."

"Yeah, what was with that?" Orin asked, looking back at the girl. "That was some odd stuff. Your skin and your eyes were tripping all sorts of colors. Are you a shugenja or something?"

"No!" she said with an insulted gasp. "I'm an ise zumi!"

"Tattooed man?" Orin asked.

"Tattooed woman," she corrected. "The blood of Togashi lets me do all sorts of cool stuff."

"Like beating those Wasps and that trick with your skin," Orin replied.

"The Wasps, yes," she said. "My skin, no." Meliko paused a moment, as if not sure how to explain. "I... always look like that. My great grandfather stood a little too close to an exploding Fire Dragon. All the magic and radiation made my gene pool come out a little wrinkled. I'm what the Dragons call an Outsider. "

Orin looked Meliko over. "You don't look like that now," he said.

Meliko glanced away for a moment, and frowned a little. She closed her eyes, letting her concentration slip. When she opened them again, her eyes glowed green once more. Whorls and colorful patterns streaked across her shoulders, arms, and legs, dancing in complex arrangements. Hornets, clouds, birds, and strange lizard-like creatures predominated the images but hints of other, fainter objects could be seen as well, almost like incomplete tattoos scrawled onto her skin.

"Wow," Orin said.

"I have to concentrate all the time," Meliko replied, embarrassed. "Or I don't even look human."

Orin scratched his beard. "I don't know," he said. "I think it's beautiful, in a way. The movement of the patterns is very soothing."

"Orin Wake," she said with a sudden, bright, smile. "Are you hitting on me?"

Orin blinked. "I think you're a little young for me, chica," he said.

"Think what you like, you'll come around. They all do," she smiled mysteriously. Her skin resolved itself into a normal, tan color again as she turned to open the door. "Hey, do me a favor, Orin," she said suddenly, looking back over her shoulder. "Don't tell Ishio about what you saw. He doesn't have to know. I don't like it when people know. You're okay, Orin, but most people in Rokugan don't like mutations."

"Hm?" Orin said, still bewildered by her previous comment. "Oh, yeah, of course. I understand. I won't tell him." He would never fully understand the Rokugani obsession with appearances. His own people were more practical. The Amijdal gave each other the benefit of the doubt before judging someone by their appearance. Well, most of the time they did, anyway.

Orin followed Meliko back out into the main room, still clutching the wad of toilet paper over his face. An old man in bright robes of red and green was sitting next to Ishio, chatting with the big Crane. He was entirely bald, except for a thin braided beard that hung to his chest. The old man rose quickly when he saw Orin.

"Meliko!" he hissed. "What did you do to this man?"

"It was an accident?" the girl said hopefully, not sounding like she really believed it.

"Really, it was my fault," Orin said. "I was asking for it." Meliko glanced at Orin in surprise, but looked quickly away again.

The old man gave Meliko a tight frown and sighed. "Well, whatever happened I suppose it is in the past. Are you all right, Mister Wake? Will you require any medical attention?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Orin replied. "I've had worse."

"Well, I suppose that's reassuring," he said. "Meliko, we shall discuss this later. For the time being, I am pleased to meet you, Mister Wake. My name is Agasha Hisojo, daimyo of the Agasha family, Dragon Clan faction." The old man bowed.

"Pleased to meet you," Orin said. He offered his right hand to Hisojo and shook it firmly in Amijdal fashion. "Are you the one I have to thank for saving my life?"

"Hey, I did that," Meliko pouted. "He just cleaned up the poison and stuff."

"No thanks are necessary," Hisojo said, looking pointedly at Meliko. "It is enough that you are safe from the Stormbreaker's henchmen."

"The Stormbreaker?" Orin said. "The Wasps who tried to kill me mentioned that name. They said that my death was the next step on his path to consuming the world. Who is this guy?"

Hisojo paused for a long moment. "We don't know, to be honest," he said. "We've had clues, hints, shadows but nothing more. We don't know if the Stormbreaker is male of female, or even if it is human. I have my suspicions, but no evidence to back them. Whoever it is, he or she is someone very powerful, with uncanny foresight and an endless array of tetsukami weaponry at their disposal. The Stormbreaker seeks the downfall of everything the Yoritomo family has built since the Shadow Wars. The Stormbreaker seeks to bring about the Third Day of Thunder."

Orin frowned. "My Rokugani history is a bit sketchy," he said. "Explain the Third Day of Thunder to me."

"Well, to put it simply it's a contest," Hisojo replied. "The rather nebulous forces of good and the forces of darkness make a bid to control the destiny of the world every millennium. The forces of darkness gain a single champion, with all the power of Jigoku's darkest reaches at his command. The forces of good receive seven mortal heroes, the Thunders, ancestral saviors with no special advantage except warnings provided by prophecy and their own free will. In the past, that has always been enough."

"Free will?" Orin asked. "How would that help?"

Hisojo smiled. "Humanity has always triumphed through its unpredictability. The first Day of Thunder was won by Hida Atarasi's sacrifice and Shosuro's cunning. The second victory came of the surprising strength of Bayushi Kachiko's character and the power of a simple friendship. The demons of Jigoku differ from us in that they have no free will. They value nothing. They wish for nothing except chaos and subjugation. They see faith, hope, and love as weaknesses, failing to notice the strength mankind has always drawn from those things. That is why they fail."

"Well, that sounds very nice but what does it have to do with me?" Orin said. "I have nothing to do with this. I'm not Rokugani, so I'm sure not a Thunder. Why would this Stormbreaker want me dead?"

"Because you are in his way," the old Dragon said. "Though we have changed greatly in two thousand years, the heart of Rokugan still keeps pace with its Emperor. You have seen Kameru's father? You have seen how the lightning accompanied him in times of anger or fury?"

"I always thought the Ranbe shugenja did that," Orin said.

"Exactly what the Ranbe would have you think," Hisojo said. "The Emperor gains his power from the land itself. The spirits bow to his command, though like mortal men they do not always obey him. Behind the Yoritomo name is focused the power of an entire nation. Prince Kameru has become that Emperor now, and the Stormbreaker has decided realized that despite all of his power, Yoritomo is just a man. A man with no friends has no one to turn to, no one to draw strength from. Even an Emperor cannot stand alone. I believe that is why they framed you. When Kameru finally had the power to free you, they had to dispose of you personally."

"So Lord Hoshi sent me to rescue you!" Meliko said cheerfully, bouncing.

"Wait," Ishio said, suddenly rising and entering the conversation. "How did you know they'd necessarily come after Orin? Do you just have Dragons tucked away all over the city waiting for the Stormbreaker to pull something?"

Hisojo looked at the Daidoji coolly. "You would be surprised, Crane," he said. "We suspected an attempt on Mister Wake's life since Ranbe Ishihn was murdered."

"Murdered!" Orin exclaimed. He felt his knees suddenly go weak. Ishihn had been his friend for years, ever since he had first come to Rokugan as a boy. "Ishihn is dead?"

Hisojo turned to Orin once more, his eyes sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Mister Wake," he said. "I should have realized that your wardens would not have told you. Your friend's body was found on the Palace grounds nearly two weeks ago."

"Those bastards! That must have been right after he came to visit me," Orin said. The big gaijin gritted his teeth in anger. Ishio rested a hand on the young man's shoulder, trying to calm him. "Who? Who the hell did it?"

"Anyone," Hisojo replied. "The Stormbreaker has the power to influence minds through tetsukansen. He twisted Kitsune Maiko and Ichiro Chiodo to his will. It could have been anyone. Nowhere in Rokugan is safe for you, Orin Wake. I fear that even here, in the Factory, the Stormbreaker will find you."

Orin folded his arms across his chest and began pacing. His pale face had become dark red from anger, highlighting his reddish-brown beard. "So what do we do now?" he spat. "You saved me, Agasha, but what good does it do? Do I have to stay down here in these tunnels for the rest of my life? I'm no better off than I was before!"

"I can still help you," Hisojo said, removing his glasses and polishing them with the hem of his robe. "It is within the power of the Dragon to return you to your home. So far from Rokugan, the Stormbreaker may abandon the effort to kill you. You will effectively be removed from Kameru's life and thus be no longer a threat."

Orin glanced at the shugenja, his eyes wide. "Amijdal?" he asked. "But they've declared war on Rokugan. They'll never allow a Rokugani vehicle across their borders."

"We have our methods," Hisojo said. "If you wish to go, it can be arranged."

"Hell, go for it," Ishio said. "After everything that's happened in this city, I'd leave myself if I had half a chance."

"Yeah," Meliko said, sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping her small face in her hands. "The Stormbreaker is bad news. I'd beat feet if I were you, Yodatai."

Orin scratched his beard thoughtfully and scowled at the floor. He turned to the Crane and the young Dragon. "Do either of you mean that?" he asked. "Would either of you leave now if you had the chance?" Meliko and Ishio looked at each other. The Crane turned to Orin first, his face stern. "No," he said. "I reckon that I don't. Otosan Uchi's been through hell and everyone thinks I'm a traitor but I ain't about to give up now. I'm gonna stay here with Agasha-sama and see what I can do to help."

"Yeah," Meliko said, standing up by Ishio's side. "Me, too. Besides, the Stormbreaker's henchmen are a bunch of punks. I'm not afraid."

Orin looked at Hisojo. "Well, you have your answer," he said. "I'm going to stay."

Hisojo looked surprised. "Stay?" he said. "Are you certain?"

"I might as well," he shrugged. "Like you said, Kameru needs help. I'm not going to give up on him, and I'm not going to run away, not after what those freaks tried to do to me. Besides, after the Stormbreaker's done with Rokugan he might come after Amijdal and I'd feel like a coward if I had to live my life knowing I didn't do anything to stop him when I could."

Hisojo smiled, glancing from Orin to Meliko to Ishio and back. "And they call this a lost generation. Your bravery does you credit, Mister Wake. The Hidden Dragon would be proud to have you at our side. And you, Daidoji Ishio. With recent developments, your knowledge of Dojicorp may come in most useful."

"And me?" Meliko said.

"Well, we'll see," Hisojo said. "I should return shortly. I have another important appointment today. For now, rest. All of you. I think that you will need it."

Sekkou cursed under his breath. He would give nearly anything to know what Inago was planning. Even his unparalleled skill at surveillance could not pierce Inago's security measures; Inago had been Sekkou's teacher, after all. The Locust Champion was so erratic lately, so unpredictable and emotionless. Inago had never been the most stable of individuals. A true genius seldom was, but this was something else. Sekkou realized that he was afraid of Inago now. He hoped that the ogre would return soon with the kolat stone. Then he would find the answers he sought.

"You seek answers?" said a tall man, stepping into the hall before Inago. The man had short-cropped black hair hung in short braids. His dark face was covered in bright tattoos. A gaijin, from the Ivory Kingdoms. A pair of large golden pistols of Ivory Kingdom manufacture hung from the man's belt. The man was unfamiliar, but Sekkou was unconcerned.

"Who are you?" Sekkou demanded. "You're not a Locust. You do not belong here."

"I am Mazaque', Inago Sekkou," he said, his Rokugani harshly accented by the melodious tones of the Ivory Kingdoms. "And I belong wherever I am needed."

"My tolerance for mystical gibberish is surprisingly low, my friend," Sekkou said. "Come to a point quickly or I'll introduce you to Locust security measures."

"Threats," the man said with a grin. "What else would I expect from a pirate like yourself? The world has become a strange place when Yoma should depend upon such champions."

"I warned you, gaijin," Sekkou said, reaching for a small keypad on his belt.

"Thirst," the man said.

Sekkou suddenly dropped to his knees, clutching his throat in pain. He had never known such pain. He felt like all of the fluid had been withdrawn from his body. He was dying cell by cell, withering away. He clawed off his helmet and threw it to the ground, prying his dried mouth open with his own fingers so that he could breathe once more. His tongue was too thick to even scream. Slowly, the pain began to recede, and Inago Sekkou looked up with anger in his dark eyes.

"What are you?" he said hoarsely, moisture slowly returning to his mouth. He clawed for his helmet and replaced it on his head. "A tsukai?"

"Not a tsukai. I am the Oracle of Water," he replied. "I have been sent to help those that would herald the Thunders."

"Herald the thunders?" Sekkou laughed. "I think you're in the wrong place."

"I tend to agree," Mazaque' said with a curt nod. "I am here just the same. My gift to you is a simple one, Inago Sekkou. Ask what you will, a single question, and the answer shall be truth. Choose wisely, and know that I am reluctant to give a villain such as yourself a slice of omniscience, however small. Whatever answer I give shall not be an easy one."

Sekkou rose to his feet in a swift movement, watching the man carefully. "One question," he mused. "Fine, then, I know what I shall ask."

Mazaque' folded his arms across his barrel chest and waited.

"What has happened?" he asked. "What has become of the man who was once Inago?"

Mazaque' smirked. "A good question, pirate," he said. "And one with a three-part answer, for a man is defined by his mind, soul, and body. Inago's soul perished some time ago. His body stands in the Heart of the Machine right now. His mind, or what remains of it, is a prisoner of the Stormbreaker."

"What?" Sekkou said sharply. "What does that mean? It's nonsense! Who is the Stormbreaker?" He considered shooting the man, but didn't want to face his strange magic again. "Perhaps you should come with me. We can discuss this further in my office."

"I have explained all that I wish to explain," Mazaque' said with a sigh. "Sleep."

Inago felt the blood suddenly rush to his temples. His vision blurred, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Mazaque' turned and walked away through the halls of the Machine, his mind already intent upon his next destination.

"So what's the problem this time?" Yasu asked, storming into the hangar in a fury. "For two days we've been cooling our heels waiting for you to get this stupid 'War Machine' ready. Shizue only knows what Munashi's been doing in the city while we've been stuck out here."

A dozen pairs of beady red eyes blinked at Yasu from the darkened hangar. These were the Fuzake, a small family of Nezumi who lived in the bowels of Kyuden Hida. Under Kaiu Toshimo's tutelage, the ratlings had become capable mechanics and technicians. It had fallen to them to put the final touches on the Crab War Machine. Behind the nezumi a large, dark shape stood shrouded with a black tarp. A set of boarding stairs were situated just behind it, littered with nezumi tools and diagrams. The nezumi had been adamant about not letting Yasu see the vehicle until it was finished.

"Stop, Yasu-san!" said a short white nezumi. It was dressed in denim overalls and a Berserkers baseball cap. It held out a large wrench to bar the Seeker's path. "T'Chip's lab a delicate place, don't need your big boot-boots stomping 'round to be breaking things!" The creature was barely half Yasu's size and mass, but it showed no fear whatsoever.

Hayato and Hatsu stood in the doorway just behind Yasu. Hayato looked distinctly bored, while Hatsu was peering over Yasu's shoulder trying hard to catch a glimpse of what lay within the lab. Without using the sensory powers of his tattoo, he couldn't see much. The Nezumi tended to keep their work areas dark. They could see well with little light, and electric lighting was just another tax on the precious resources of the Kyuden.

"Listen, T'Chip," Yasu said, glowering down at the little nezumi. "We've got an important mission that's going nowhere because you can't get that machine up and running." Yasu stabbed a finger at the tarp covered mass. "Now when are we going to be able to leave?"

"Tengyu-sama, Toshimo-sama demand too much this time!" T'Chip said quickly, his voice high-pitched in irritation. "Like to see you try build a War Machine in less than month! Not happen! Not happen! Step behind line." The nezumi indicated the painted yellow line that stretched across the doorway of the lab. Yasu's left foot protruded past it slightly.

"T'Chip, when will it be done?" Yasu demanded.

"Step behind line," the nezumi repeated sternly. He gestured with his wrench again.

Yasu sighed. As stubborn as he was, he knew he was no match for the ratling's patience. Fuzake T'Chip was a nezumi that knew his place in the world and expected everyone else to know theirs. Yasu took a step back. "Okay, there," he said. "Now how long will it be?"

T'Chip grinned, showing long white teeth. "She be done," he said.

"Done?" Hayato exclaimed. "The War Machine is done? I thought you said it couldn't happen."

"Said it couldn't happen if you try, Hiruma," T'Chip replied. "Didn't say it couldn't happen if Fuzake try. Brothers. Show."

The other nezumi scampered to the tarp covered mass, chittering in excitement. T'Chip flipped a switch at the side of the door as the tarp was pulled aside, filling the laboratory suddenly in bright halogen lighting. Hida Yasu looked up at the War Machine for the first time.

"T'Chip," Yasu said, his jaw hanging open. "It's big."

T'Chip glanced back at Yasu. "Of course it is," the nezumi said sharply. "Bigger than Akodo. Tengyu ask for that special."

In a word, the War Machine was intimidating. It stood at nearly twenty feet tall, an enormous giant of dark blue steel. Unlike its cousin, Akodo, the Crab War Machine had only the vaguest resemblance to a human samurai warrior. It's head was squat, built directly into the torso. It's face was a mere horizontal slot. The robot's right arm ended in an great claw, edged with serrated blades. Every other one of these blades glowed a dull green. The left arm ended in a normal hand, though a pair of large gun barrels sprouted from the forearm. A great metal tetsubo was holstered upon its back, the steel knobs of the club covered with the same green metal as the claw blades. It's legs were short and thick to provide a low center of gravity, and a cluster of exhaust jets sprouted from its lower back.

"Can it fly?" Yasu said, excited. He pointed at the jets.

"No, it about as aerodynamic as dead fish," T'Chip said, shaking his head. "Jets are for jumping, and for underwater maneuvering. War Machine be amphibious, just like real crab."

"And the claw?" Hayato said. "What's that green metal on the blades?"

"Jadesteel," T'Chip said. "T'Chip's own idea. Just on every other blade. Other blades pure steel from Kaiu Forge. Sharpest stuff in Rokugan."

Hatsu's brow furrowed. "Jade won't mix with metal," he said. "The Kaiu engineers have tried it before. It's a crystal; it won't smelt."

"Not real steel," T'Chip grinned. "Dense plastic polymer, mixed with good amount powdered jade. Sharp as steel, but not as tough. Still, it work wonders on oni, let me tell you. Tetsubo got the same thing on it. Plastic probably get dinged up after couple of weeks but T'Chip bet the onis get dinged up faster."

"Are you sure it'll work?" Yasu asked. "Some Shadowlands creatures are pretty picky about what they're vulnerable to."

T'Chip nodded. "Real sure. Kuni Mokuna-sama brought in couple of trolls he found wandering Downtown. Been testing jadesteel claw on them all week in back room. They in bad shape. Want to see?" T'Chip's eyes glinted.

"Maybe later," Yasu said. "We've got work to do. Will this thing hold all three of us?"

T'Chip nodded, flipping his big wrench in one hand. "Be tight, but possible. War Machine got more weapons than Akodo, so it need two people to drive it. One to steer, one to gun. Left big cargo compartment for weapons. Dragon can squeeze in there. Him skinny enough."

"Hey!" Hatsu said.

"Works for me," Yasu said. "Can we get going now, T'Chip?"

"Indeedy," the ratling said. "Can show you basic controls real quick. Not hard to drive, not hard at all. Tetsukami do most of work. You just got to hope it likes you. Follow, but walk careful. Sometimes brothers leave stuff lying on floor." T'Chip strode into the lab toward the War Machine, his bare pink feet padding quickly across the steel floor.

"Yeah, about that," Hayato said, staring up at the monstrous robot. "Toshimo told me that a War Machine requires a powerful nemuranai to work. Which one did you guys use for Hida?"

T'Chip glanced back at them. "Not named Hida," T'Chip said with a shake of his head. "What you think this is? Lion ego-trip toy like Akodo? No-no. Armor want to keep its old name. Call it Ketsuen."

"The Armor of the Shadow Warrior," Yasu said with a whistle. "That armor belonged to the first Hida. How did Toshimo talk dad into giving that up?

"Toshimo not ask. Tengyu-sama donated," T'Chip replied. "Him say it time to start a new tradition."

"So the robot's immune to magic, like Ketsuen?" Hayato said, running a hand over Hida's surface. The dark metal was cool to the touch, and a streak of frost was left behind as the scout's hand passed.

"Among other things," T'Chip said, scratching one ear. "Well, it all ready to go now, Yasu-san, Hayato-san." The little nezumi took a step back and looked up at the huge robot it had built. A gaggle of smaller nezumi huddled around him.

"T'Chip-boss?" one said. "You crying?"

"Just give T'Chip minute," T'Chip said, waving his brother away. "Get all choked up whenever a job like this gets done." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at one eye.

"Thanks, T'Chip," Yasu said, bowing low to the nezumi mechanic. "You've done a damn fine job."

"Thank me later," the ratling chuckled. "Tetsukami funny things. Got minds of their own, not like normal machines. Even T'Chip not sure what Ketsuen can do. No time to test. Only Ketsuen know for sure. You have fun time on test drive okay?"

"We will, T'Chip," Yasu said, climbing up the steps behind the War Machine. "We definitely will."

"You're the most pathetic excuse for a student I've ever seen," the Soshi growled.

"Study was never my strong suit."

"Try it again," the old Scorpion sighed, rubbing one hand across is bald forehead. "Read them from the top right."

"Mura keshintu ak karata vata ut miran ugulu zash--"

"Ugulu zaish," the Soshi said in a tired tone. "Read it the other way and you'll end up summoning the oni within your own spleen. By the gods you're stupid."

Ichiro Chobu considered murdering the man for the forty-eighth time today. For over a week, he'd been visiting the Soshi's smelly little herb shop on the west side of the Scorpion Quarter. The old man had agreed to teach Chobu the writing on the scroll, and agreed with the Badger's appraisal that it was an oni summoning scroll, but after that things began moving rather slowly. Chobu was starting to get frustrated. He wasn't used to this. Despite his somewhat brutish exterior, the Badger was a very intelligent man. He was used to grasping nearly everything he tried to learn with ease, including magic. This just made no sense. He leaned low over the small table. The stolen Phoenix scroll was spread out on a small table between them, illuminated by a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. An ink pot, a rock and a stapler pinned down the corners of the scroll, keeping it from curling up.

Chobu sighed. "Enough of this crap," Chobu said. "I pronounced it right and we both know it. When are we going to do this for real? See what we've got here?"

The old Soshi blanched, blinking fish-like eyes at Chobu. "This is an oni we're talking about here, not a used car. You can't summon one of these things lightly. You have to prepare. You have to take care of every eventuality. The kanji for the ring of summoning must be drawn perfectly to contain its essence and define its form. The blood sacrifice must be prepared."

"Those kanji you mentioned," Chobu said, glancing over the scroll. "Are these the ones here? The ones drawn in a circle at the bottom?"

"Well, yes, they're runes of summoning that contain the beast and define its dimensions. They must be a perfect circle. But you're missing my point," the Soshi replied. "Actually summoning an oni of Jigoku under any conditions is dangerous in the extreme. I won't condone it."

"I hired you to help me summon the damn thing, didn't I?" Chobu asked.

"No, no, quite the contrary," the Soshi said. "My understanding was that you simply wished to know what your scroll contained. One can gain a greater understanding of magic by studying it, even maho. No doubt that was why the Phoenix who... let you borrow this... had it in their library instead of burning it. I agreed to simply help you translate the scroll."

"And you're doing a terrible job," Chobu said. "I still can't read the thing right."

The Soshi glanced away a moment, licking his withered lips nervously.

"Or can I?" Chobu grinned. "That's it, isn't it? That's what's going on here. You're scamming me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the old shugenja replied tartly.

"You're teaching me the kanji all wrong!" Chobu said, stabbing a finger down in the middle the scroll. The little table shook. "You're just leading me on so I have to keep paying you!"

"I don't need your money," the Soshi said stiffly. "You're deluded."

"No, I'm right," Chobu sat back with a wicked grin. "You're nervous, I can see it in your eyes. But maybe it isn't the money. What, then? Why aren't you teaching me the spell?"

"Perhaps because I don't want a maniac like you summoning up an oni in the middle of the capitol?" the Soshi's bushy white eyebrows rose.

"I don't buy that either," Chobu shook his head. "You would have just turned my name over to the Seekers. I hear they have all kinds of ways of dealing with aspiring maho-tsukai, few of which involve leaving your limbs intact. No, there's something else going on here. What's your angle, old man?"

"No angle," the man sighed. "Please leave. Don't return tomorrow. Take the scroll with you."

Chobu narrowed his eyes at the old man, but the Soshi simply looked away. There would be no convincing him. Chobu shrugged, and plucked the stone, stapler, and ink pot off of the scroll. He carefully picked up the scroll, rolled it into a tube, leaped across the table, and slammed the old man to the floor.

"What in Jigoku!" the Soshi shrieked in surprise. "What are you doing???"

"I figured I'd strangle you for a while," Chobu said, fastening his hands around the man's throat. "Since you won't help me, I figure I haven't anything to lose." He proceeded to do so.

"All right! All right!" the man choked. "I'll tell you! I'll tell you what you want to know!"

Chobu released the Soshi's throat, though he continued to pin the old man to the floor. "That's better," he said. "Talk. Why did you teach me the spell incorrectly?"

"A lesson in patience," the Soshi gasped. "Those with quick tempers are quickly consumed by maho, left shallow maddened husks, dangerous to themselves and everyone else. I had to make sure you were serious."

"How considerate of you." Chobu leaned close to the man's face, clutching the sides of his head with his large hands. "Do I look serious?" he asked.

"Yes," the old man said quickly.

"Good," Chobu replied. "So what happens next?"

"There's a place," the Soshi said. "A place you can go to learn more. A master of maho lives there, teaching those he finds worthy. He taught me, for a short time, till I grew frightened of his power and fled. It's dangerous, though. You might not survive."

"Good," Chobu answered. "I bet the world would be better off without me. I'll take the risk. Where is this place? Who is this master?"

"The place is called Downtown," the old man said, "and the master is a being named the Kashrak."

Chobu felt a momentary chill, like someone had walked over his grave. For a moment, he hesitated. He considered walking out right then and throwing the scroll in a trash can. No. He'd come this far. Yoritomo VI might be dead, but the Mantis Clan still owed Chobu blood. He would finish this. "Tell me more," Chobu said.

"You'll regret it," the Soshi said.

"I know," Chobu said. "So tell me..."

Inago sat at the edge of the stage in the Heart of the Machine. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion. His hand hovered near the mask that covered his face, then pulled away. He always pulled away. He couldn't remove the mask. Not yet. Just a little more time...

The shadows of the furthest corner of the Heart seemed to deepen for a moment. A tall figure emerged from the darkness. He wore the sleek plasteel armor of a Shinjo patrolman, but without any rank or insignia to speak of. An ancient mempo covered his face, twisted in the form of a fearsome oni. He held a long spear in his hand, a Battle Maiden Ot-Nag. His armor and spear looked as if they had been repainted a dark black, or had seen the heart of an intense fire.

"A Moto," Inago said, his voice barely a whisper. "He sent a Moto..."

"You have done well, Inago," the man said, glancing around at the dark techno-horror splendor of the Heart as his heels clicked upon the tiles. "Sadly, not nearly well enough. The Stormbreaker sends his regards. I am Yotogi."

"Are you another of his lieutenants?" Inago asked.

"No, nothing so dramatic," he chuckled. "I was in town on other business and the Stormbreaker asked me to drop by and insure everything went smoothly. Consider me an independent consultant. I trained for three hundred years at the side of my late father, Moto Tsume, so you might say I have some experience at this sort of thing. I guess the Stormbreaker realizes that you just can't destroy Rokugan without a good Moto at your side."

"You have come to kill me, then," Inago said.

"Kill you?" the eye sockets of the creature's mempo burned white for a moment. "Well, that would be redundant, wouldn't it? No, I've come to advise you on the last leg of your operation, to insure that there are no mistakes. As long as everything goes to plan, I'll stay out of your way. Besides, I know nothing of modern technology. I have little use for it. I'm an old school chaos-bringer. Perhaps I can give you some pointers, Inago-san. The two of us have very much in common. You prepare for an attack upon the Palace, yes?"

Inago nodded. "I have already informed my second in command. He rallies the troops now."

"Good, good," Yotogi said. "The Palace walls shall fall for the third time, and then everything can proceed."

"And what about afterwards?" Inago said. "Did the Stormbreaker say what my orders were for afterwards?"

Yotogi had been staring into a small television screen, one of the many small screens that dotted the walls. He glanced up with a start, and casually removed his mempo to reveal a face so handsome it was nearly girlish. "Afterwards?" Yotogi said. "There was no mention of afterwards. Your only duty is to bring down the Palace gates. Perhaps there will not be an afterwards."

Inago was quiet.

"Will that be a problem?" Yotogi asked.

Inago did not answer.

"I said, would that be a problem, Locust?" Yotogi asked again. The Moto's hand clenched very slightly on the haft of his naginata.

Inago drew the pistol from his belt, aimed it at the Moto's chest, and fired six times. The tainted creature crumpled to the floor, its chest a smoking ruin, gasping for breath that would not come. Inago smiled in triumph as he pulled the mask from his face, wires trailing from his eye sockets and lips. It did not matter now. His people were free once more, free to wreak terror as they saw fit, not the puppets of a shadowy madman.

In reality, he had never even managed to reach for the pistol. Pain lanced through his body like liquid fire. Sparks erupted from his hand and torso. The nerve impulses had never even been allowed to leave his tortured brain. Inago wanted to fall to his knees and sob. Instead, his body only let him stand where it was, and bow to the dark Moto.

"Ah," Yotogi said. "So there isn't a problem. Good." He returned to his observation of the screen. "See that it remains that way."

Inago Isek wiped the sweat from his brow with a damp cloth. It was freezing cold, but he was sweating anyway. Fear was keeping him plenty warm. Nearby, four large men in dark clothing grunted and cursed as they tried to heave a large black box into the back of an unmarked grey van. Isek was keeping a careful eye on the street below the parking garage, but he was also carefully monitoring the loading procedure. One of the men stumbled, and the end of the box dipped. The others spat and cursed and struggled to maintain balance.

"Hey, be careful with that!" he snapped, striding up quickly and slapping the man on the back of the head. "Do you have any idea what would happen if you dropped that?"

The man shook his head. Isek sighed. Of course Sekkou hadn't told them what was inside the box. Brainless thugs like this just didn't need to know.

"Just be careful, okay?" Isek asked, scratching the top of his shaven head. "That box is full of very valuable components. Think Armageddon, here people. You ever hear of Amijdal's Four Horsemen?" Some of the men nodded. "Yeah, well then just consider that box Pestilence." That was its name, after all. That was what Isek had named it.

"Isek!" shouted a young boy, running up the steps out of breath.

"Yes?" Isek replied quickly. He didn't know the boy's name and quite frankly he didn't care. He was one of six neighborhood kids he'd paid ten hyakurai to keep an eye on the street. The thin Locust folded his arms across his chest, waiting for a response.

"Shinjo!" the boy said, leaning against the wall as he gasped. "A Shinjo and a Battle Maiden!"

Isek narrowed his eyes. "In this neighborhood? They should know better. Are they on the way here?" he asked.

"Looks like it," the boy said.

Isek sighed. "Of all times for the purple knights to begin thirsting for justice." He turned toward the four men, who were just finishing loading Pestilence into the back of the truck. "Hey, you four," he said. "I have another job for you."

"It's not more lifting, is it?" grumbled one, rubbing his sore shoulder. Small wonder, Pestilence weighed nearly a quarter of a ton.

"Just a bit," Isek replied. "After all, someone will have to carry the Unicorns' corpses where they won't be found." The men chuckled among themselves. The Locust drew a small plastic case from a pack on his back, unfolding it into a laptop computer. He squatted on the floor, drawing a small wire from the laptop and plugging it into a jack on the side of his headpiece.

"You said there were two?" Isek asked the boy. The boy nodded, and Isek began typing.

"What are you doing?" one of the men asked.

"The Locust are mighty, but the Machine is everywhere," Isek said with a wicked grin. His eyes were intense upon the dim green monitor of the laptop. "But one with the proper knowledge can speak with the voice of the Machine. Control and misdirection are power. Communication is power. Destroy the Machine? Bah, to Jigoku with that. I am the Machine."

The thugs looked at one another uncertainly, not seeming to understand.

Isek sighed. Poetry was lost on some people. "I scrambled their communications," he explained tersely. "They can't call for backup. Now go kill them."

"That bathroom reeks worse than Kashrak's sewer" Zin said, striding out of the hotel bathroom with a determined scowl. "I hope we can leave this place soon, Kenyu."

Kenyu looked up from his sketchbook and opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly stopped, his eyes wide open.

"What?" Zin said. She glanced down at herself and back at Kenyu. Her wet green skin shone dimly in the light of the hotel room. "Ah. I forgot the human illusion of modesty." She quickly ducked back into the bathroom and emerged wearing a loose t-shirt and short pair of white shorts, more clothes lent to her by Sumi. "Can we speak now without you ogling me like a piece of meat, Kenyu?"

"Er, maybe," the Unicorn said with a grin. "Depends what you want to talk about?"

"This place, this city," Zin said, walking over to the window and peering out between the blinds. The psychedelic glare of neon flickered just outside. "It is not like Otosan Uchi."

"Soshi Toshi is something else," Kenyu nodded in agreement. "You should have seen the place ten years ago. Absolute mess. They hadn't repaired hardly any of the damage since the Shadow Wars. Then the Cricket Clan came in and started throwing all sorts of money at the Scorpion to let them build casinos. Since then, they really haven't cleaned up but they've done a good job of polishing the crap and building stuff on top of the wreckage."

Zin turned, a concerned look on her face. "They never cleaned out any of the old ruins?" she said. "There could still be creatures living in them, remnants of Akuma's army."

"Well, yeah, you have the occasional outbreak of goblins and such," Kenyu said. "But it's not too much of a problem. The only really dangerous place is Shiro no Soshi, the ruins of the Castle of Organization. The Crab Seekers have a very large presence here. Every few months or so they roll through the city and shoot things up until they feel satisfied they've made a difference." Kenyu continued sketching as he spoke, but his voice was quick with excitement. He sounded more as if he were sharing a story than relating local history.

"You know a lot about this place," Zin said, sitting down at the table nearby. "Did you come from this city?"

"No, no," he chuckled. "I'm a Unicorn, born and bred. I come from good old Shiro Iuchi, the windiest place in Rokugan. I just travel a lot. I try to remember things."

"That's right," Zin said with a small smile. "You're going to write a book, aren't you?"

"Yes, and then I'll be famous," he said. "I'm going to write a book about everything I've seen, and believe me, Zin-chan, that's quite a bit. People would pay good money to hear about what I've seen. Heck, they might even make a movie about it!"

"I suppose they could hire Akodo Daniri to play you," Zin mused.

"Nope," Kenyu replied. "He's too tall. I'd prefer Usagi Katsu." The young Unicorn shugenja scribbled in his pad for several more moments, then finally looked up at Zin. "Um... are you going to dry off or anything?" he asked. Zin was still soaking wet from the shower. Her damp clothes clung to her body, her wet hair hung limp about her shoulders.

"This is comfortable for me," she said with a shrug. "The closer we get to the Shinomen, the more my natural instincts begin to return. I am a creature of the water. I'm sorry, Kenyu, do I offend you?"

Kenyu cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from her. "Well, frankly, it's a little distracting," he said.

"Really," Zin rose one eyebrow and leaned forward across the table. "How so?"

Kenyu quickly glanced away again. "Um, changing the subject," he said quickly. "I was thinking about your legs."

Zin blinked. "Really. This must be the infamous Unicorn subtlety Sumi warned me about."

"Er, that's not what I mean," Kenyu blushed brightly and looked up at her again. "I mean, I studied the naga quite a bit. I read all about myths and legends and those sorts of things."

"The naga aren't a myth, Kenyu," Zin interjected.

"Well, up until two days ago they were for me, Zin-chan," he replied.

"Granted," she agreed. "Go on."

"Well, I heard that your people were half snake," Kenyu said. "The pictures always show you with the tails of serpents form the waist down instead of legs."

"Yes," Zin said, her eyes quickly flicked downward, and her smile faded.

"The legends say that Naga women can choose their form, shifting back and forth from legs to tail. Can you do that?" Kenyu asked.

Zin didn't say anything. She stood and quietly walked back toward the bathroom. "I'd rather not talk about this," she said.

Kenyu fidgeted uncomfortably, folding his sketchbook over one finger as he rose to follow her. "What did I say?" he said, worried. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything, I was just curious."

Zin turned, her eyes fierce. "You want an answer, Unicorn?" she spat. "Fine, here's your answer. I am an Abomination, a freak, like the Kashrak. The Akasha has no use for Abominations. After the Akasha's Wound has been healed and the Naga are free of their slumber I'll surrender myself to the Qamar's mercy, expecting none. Do you know why?"

Kenyu shook his head silently.

"No," she said, her voice a little choked. "Neither do I, not anymore. My heart is a naga's, but I've spent too much time with humans. I'm starting to think as they do. I don't want the Akasha to cast me out because I'm different, but I can't let my family die. I don't want Kashrak hounding me forever either." She sat down at the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped. "There's nothing... there's nothing I can do. Either way, I'm trapped."

Kenyu sat down next to her and leaned on his knees. "I know how you feel, Zin," he said.

"Thank you for the sympathy, but somehow I doubt it," she said, leaning forward and covering her face with her hands.

"No, really," he said. "I really do. I never graduated from the Iuchi Shugenja school. I've only got like two or three spells I can cast really well. Other than that, the kami have nothing to do with me. My mother was a Battle Maiden and my father probably would have been one if they'd have let him. They laughed at me when I said I didn't want to become a magistrate. They laughed even harder when I decided to become a shugenja like my uncle. They stopped laughing when I dropped out of school, bought the motorcycle, and started writing. I haven't dared go home since."

Zin looked up at him. "Are you afraid your family would hurt you?" she asked.

Kenyu laughed. "Mom? No. Nothing like that. She'd nod disapprovingly and pull some strings to get me a nice clerical job at Ide Motors or something. A nice, boring, soul crushing pointless job to get me out of the way and punish me for not being born more Otaku. Or, I could keep on the way I'm going. A homeless, friendless, vagabond hermit with a broken down bike and no future."

"But you said you were going to be famous," she said.

"Yeah, it's a nice dream," he said. "But I think you're as likely to grow a tail as I am to be a famous writer. Okay, granted, I don't have a gigantic maho-tsukai lizard trying to kill me but I do now something about being trapped. Kamoko and Otaku, I know a thing or two about that."

Zin tilted her head curiously. "If you hate the Otaku so much, why do you always pray to the Unicorn Thunders?"

"I don't hate the Otaku!" he said quickly. "I just... I just don't understand them. I have to go my own way, but I still want them to be proud of me. Does that make any sense?"

Zin rolled her eyes up at the ceiling thoughtfully, then looked back at Kenyu. "No," she said. "But I can pretend to be sympathetic if it makes you feel better."

Kenyu looked up at her, confused. She broke into a grin and laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, Kenyu," she said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I couldn't resist. I do understand. And I feel much better now, really. Thank you."

"That's good," he said. "Cause I didn't understand a word of all that Akasha gibberish either."

"Why you!" she grabbed a handful of his long hair and pulled.

"Yowch!" the Unicorn shrieked. He twisted to try to wrestle Zin's hand away playfully. He ended up holding both of her wrists in his hands with her back against the wall. Zin rose an eyebrow again, but didn't try to move away. "Unicorn subtlety again?" she said. Kenyu blushed.

"I guess so," he replied, trying to stay focused on her eyes. He felt very warm as he held her. He leaned toward her and closed his eyes.

The door opened with a crash. Kenyu and Zin twisted about quickly, still holding each other on the edge of the bed. Three tall women in leather jackets and shredded denim pants stood in the doorway. The first shook her head slightly and grinned.

"Well, this is peculiar," the woman said. Her hair was jet black and tied back into a tight black ponytail, much like a Battle Maiden's. "Don't you know, Iuchi? Inter-species relationships just don't work. You should find yourself a nice Unicorn girl, you know? One without gills."

"Who in Jigoku are you?" Zin snarled. She reached instinctively for her necklace, but remembered she had left it on the sink in the bathroom.

"Shinko Misato," the woman said. She smiled to reveal a mouth full of sharp fangs. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Zin."

"Fu Leng's Blood!" Keijura swore. He threw the envelope across the room, where it hit the wall and landed with a crack. The young reporter buried his face in his hands, leaning low over his desk. This couldn't be. This wasn't happening. He couldn't report this.

The note still lay crumpled on the desk before him, the only item he hadn't put back into the envelope.

KEIJURA

THE FOLLOWING MAY BE OF INTEREST TO KTSU. I EXPECT IT TO BE REPORTED UPON IN 48 HOURS, IT WILL BE GIVEN TO LESS SYMPATHETIC FACTIONS OF THE MEDIA.

He'd been putting this for a day now, but now he had to make a choice. The envelope had just shown up in his office the day before yesterday. He'd spent most of that day reading and re-reading the contents, and checking to make sure they were genuine. They were. The envelope hadn't been labeled. Everything was in neatly printed computer type. He had no idea who had left it in his office or how they'd gotten in. He did know that he couldn't report what was inside. Absolutely not. Not if he ever wanted to sleep at night again. The ghosts of Medinaat-al-Salaam still haunted his dreams for that stupid, jingoist, propaganda report he made about the Fire Dragon bombing. This was worse, in a way. it was more personal. He reached for the telephone, dialing for the one hundredth time.

"Hello, I'm not in right now. Probably out saving the world or something. Just leave a number and I'll get right back." A mechanical beep came from the other end. Keijura hung up the phone. This wasn't the sort of news you could get from a machine.

"Damn," Keijura said. "Damn, damn, damn...." He wrung his hands as he pushed away from his desk. The white envelope sat where he had thrown it, mocking him. Inside were tapes, records, certificates of birth. Everything was very neat, and very official. Someone had gone to a lot of work, but why?

The answer was obvious of course. Make yourself a target and expect to be fired upon. One of the maxims of journalism. It wasn't a maxim Keijura was particularly fond of; he didn't consider himself an exploitative sort of reporter. Still, it was the truth. He had to report this before someone else did. There wasn't much time left. Better the news come from a friend, in the end. He picked up the phone again.

"Hello, Yakamura-san?" Keijura said. "Yes, this is Keijura. I have a story I have to report. Tonight. It has to go out tonight, and I have to be the one to report it."

Keijura paused, listening to his director's reply. A lot of nonsense about it being a busy news week, that there wasn't enough time left before the evening news, that a junior reporter like Keijura didn't have any business springing this sort of nonsense on him last minute. Keijura patiently ignored all of it. Eventually, Yakamura concluded his tirade by asking Keijura what the story was about.

"Akodo Daniri," Keijura said, picking the envelope off of the floor.

"Are you ready, Shougo?" Rashid asked. "Are you ready to try again?"

The ise zumi nodded. Hitomi Shougo attempted to put on a brave face, but was betrayed by his own anxiety. His bald head glistened with cold sweat and his lip quivered in fear. His brothers stood by, looking on with morose expressions. The four men stood in a park in the center of what was once Holy Home City. The trees around them were withered and twisted. The grass had turned a dead, leathery black. In the distance, they could hear the tormented howls of the ever present Byoki.

Hitomi Shougo seated himself cross-legged on the ground and fell into a trance. He had spent yesterday and most of today doing this, reaching out with his spirit in this tainted place, searching for the soul of a dead oni. Zul Rashid stood a distance away, watching with his odd red eyes. The gaijin sorceror was grim but sympathetic. He, of all people, understood the sort of sacrifice Shougo was making.

Shougo opened his eyes once more, opening his perceptions to the world of spirits. Immediately, a maelstrom of tormented faces and outstretched hands surrounded him. The recently dead were always the worst. They thought they had lost the most, and had the least time to adjust to their new existence. They were often angry, often confused, often violent. Holy Home City teemed with ghosts of the recently dead, thousands of people who had been slaughtered by the oni or had their lives choked away by the plague the Byoki carried. They could sense Shougo's awareness of them. They called to him. They demanded his attention. They gouged his spirit with claws of razor ice. He hardened his soul and turned his eyes away from them.

"Tadaka," he said, his voice echoing as it resounded through both worlds at once. "I seek the spirit of Oni no Tadaka, the Captive. I demand his presence."

Many of the spirits vanished. The oni was a powerful spirit; a man who called upon it voluntarily was either mad or equally powerful. Either was to be avoided.

"Tadaka!" Shougo demanded again. "I demand you bring me the spirit of Oni no Tadaka!"

The remaining spirits began to swirl energetically, excited by Shougo's emotion. Shougo began to shiver uncontrollably.

"We should stop this," Mayonaka growled, narrowing his eyes at Rashid.

"Shougo is in no shape to continue," Asahi added, kneeling beside his brother with a frown of concern.

"He is in no danger," Rashid said. "My ward should keep the spirits from approaching close enough to do him physical harm." A faintly glowing circle of white surrounded the three ise zumi brothers. Zul Rashid himself stood just outside of the ward's circle of power. The corruption of Oni no Kaze had spread through him to the point where wards against evil caused him terrible pain. The Church of the Shadow Samurai still gave him peace, but he wondered how much longer it would be before even that sanctuary was denied him.

"You are mad, gaijin," Mayonaka said. The dark ise zumi folded his arms across his chest as he glared at Rashid.

"You are killing him," Asahi added, passing a fretful hand across Shougo's forehead. "Physical pain is one thing, but the mental anguish will devour his spirit."

"Our life is no longer our own, do you not remember, brothers?" Shougo asked with a faint smile. "The deal we made, so long ago, to save Mayonaka? Do neither of you remember what Lord Hoshi told us that day?"

"No coward runs so fast that death cannot catch him..." Mayonaka said, looking to Shougo.

"But a true hero lives forever," Asahi finished.

"Don't you see?" Shougo asked, his face turning deathly pale. "This is our destiny. The Stormbreaker is building an army here, an army of onis and undead for the Day of Thunder. If Rashid can find his father, he can put a stop to all of this. We have to help him, even if it means my death. It is my choice to make, but I wish you would understand, brothers..." Shougo slumped forward, his body shaking slightly as he clutched his arms to his chest. Mayonaka and Asahi watched their brother silently, their faces grave.

"For your sake, khadi, I would pray that this works," Mayonaka said.

Zul Rashid opened his mouth to reply, but a cackling laughter suddenly filled the clearing. Mayonaka and Asahi were instantly alert, crouching in fighting stances.

"Byoki?" Asahi asked.

"No, not Byoki," Rashid replied. "Stay within the circle. I have a feeling this is what we've been waiting for."

A pale green apparition appeared suddenly at the edge of the park. It was large and bulbous, a nearly featureless creature ten feet in height. It wobbled as it moved, its transparent flesh bulging with strange and unknown contents. Broken chains black with corruption pierced its flesh and dragged upon the ground in its wake. A pair of slits that seemed to pass for eyes swiveled to focus on Hitomi Shougo. A spray of blue sparks erupted as it tried to pass through the boundary of Rashid's ward, and the eyes narrowed as it prepared to try again.

"No, Tadaka," Zul Rashid said in a commanding voice, speaking in the language of the oni. "He is only the messenger. I am the one who summoned you. If you have anger in your foul heart, slake its thirst upon me."

The bizarre creature twisted where it hunched upon the ground. What passed for a head tilted slightly as it considered the corrupted Phoenix. A ghastly ripping sound came from its face, as another slit appeared to serve as a mouth. Tattered bits of torn meat hung from its lips as it smiled at Zul Rashid. "Son of Shiba," it said, also speaking in the strange jagged tongue of the demons of Jigoku. It's voice was hollow like a spirits, but reverberated with wet slaps and gurgling pops. "The Champion that never was. So far you have walked from the path of your brothers. Come home to die, you have."

"Indeed," Rashid said. "You are a perceptive one. The only question now is who I will take with me." Rashid extended his right hand, and a bright scimitar of electricity appeared.

The oni laughed mockingly. "Do you think to hurt me, Phoenix? The Elemental Masters tormented me for years. I know all there is to know of pain, and death has carried me beyond your power."

Rashid smiled darkly. "I am as much Oni no Kaze as I am Zul Rashid now, Captive," he said. "The creatures of Jigoku know how to harm their own, and you know well that they are far more creative than the peaceful Phoenix who studied you. Shall I demonstrate what I have learned?" The sorceror began to advance upon the oni's spirit, a look of cold anger on his face.

Tadaka did not respond at first, thinking to call the sorceror's bluff. Rashid advanced directly to the spirits side and held his scimitar high. The oni's resolve crumbled. "No!" it shrieked, terrified. "Don't hurt me, mighty Kaze! I have had enough pain! I will do whatever you ask!"

"Good," Rashid said, pulling the scimitar back at the last moment. "Take me to the caves where you were summoned to this world."

Tadaka's eyes widened. "Is that all?" it asked, still fearful. "Is that all I must do, mighty Kaze? Simply to find the Caverns of Twilight?"

"That will suffice," Rashid replied. "And then you may return to your hauntings."

"You are most generous, mighty Kaze!" the oni whimpered pathetically. "I will serve you well!"

"Indeed," Rashid said. "Now, if you will wait here for a moment, I must discuss a brief matter with my mortal allies."

"As you wish, mighty Kaze," Oni no Tadaka replied. It's gelatinous mass collapsed in a heap, mocking a human bow.

Soon Rashid stood at the edge of the ward once more, looking at Shougo in concern. "How is he?" the sorceror asked.

"Not well," Mayonaka replied. "The spirits demanded much."

Asahi stood, holding Shougo's limp body in his arms. Streaks of tears marked the ise zumi's face. "His heart could not withstand the experience. He may not survive the night."

Zul Rashid nodded. "I am sorry," he said. "If there is anything I can do."

"You have done enough already, Phoenix," Mayonaka said sharply. "You have what you wanted."

"We return to the Church now," Asahi added. "To see if our brother may still be saved." The Brothers of the Day turned and quickly made their way back through the park, heading back in the direction of the Church of the Shadow Samurai. They made no noise as they departed, and did not look back.

Zul Rashid watched them leave, his face lit blue by the fading glow of his ward. The spirit of the oni hovered nearby, looking for some way to slip away unnoticed. Rashid turned suddenly and the oni hopped a step back, surprised.

"What were you doing just then?" Rashid asked mildly.

"Nothing!" Tadaka gibbered. "Nothing, Mighty Kaze!"

"Good," Rashid replied. "Now let us find these caverns, Oni no Tadaka."

Rakki stepped off his motorcycle and looked around. "Nice neighborhood," he observed. "I think I can count the unbroken windows on one hand."

Sachiko stepped up beside him, tucking her helmet under one hand. "Look," she said, pointing. A brick wall nearby was riddled with dozens of dense bullet holes. "Senpet KF7 automatic."

Rakki frowned. "I hope that's from the invasion," he said.

"Either way, we should be careful," she said. "No telling what the Senpet left behind." She drew her Ot-Nag baton, extending it to full spear length. Her eyes scanned the streets. There was absolutely no one to be seen. The neighborhood was dead.

"So what's the plan?" Rakki asked. "This was your idea."

"Stakeout," she replied. "We hide the motorcycles in that building over there." She pointed to a burned out shop front with boarded windows. "We'll hole up there until a call comes into Shinjo Tower about Locust activity."

"You plan on being the one to answer that call, huh?" Rakki answered. He looked nervous.

"The Locust don't expect the Unicorn to come to Little Jigoku," she said, taking the handlebars of her bike and wheeling it onto the sidewalk. "Maybe we can surprise them. You aren't afraid, are you, Rakki?"

"Hell yes I am!" Rakki said, wheeling his own bike behind her. "I didn't live this long by looking for trouble! I'm not saying that we shouldn't help out. Heck I'm a cop too, but hear me out. We should get some backup or something."

"You know they won't send any," she said, stepping into the store.

"Well, then maybe we should let this whole thing be," he said. "A little constructive cowardice goes a long way. Remember what happened last time you ran off after Sekkou half cocked." Sachiko said nothing.

Rakki followed her into the shelter of the old shop. It looked like it had once been a bakery or a delicatessen. Crumbled tile and broken glass crunched underneath their boots and tires. Dust hovered in the air. Rakki set a toppled wooden chair upright and dragged it near one of the windows. Sachiko moved to the other window and stood watching the street, arms folded. Rakki watched her for a moment, then sat down with a sigh. Both of them stayed that way for several minutes, neither saying anything.

"So," Rakki said finally. "What's it like to be a Battle Maiden?"

Sachiko looked at him. "Do you really care, or are you just trying to make conversation?"

"Both, I guess," he said. "I've lived in Otosan Uchi all my life, so I haven't had much chance to meet you guys. There aren't many Battle Maidens in the city, are there?"

"Last I knew, there were twenty," she said. "Places like Otosan Uchi don't need us. Usually we get stationed in places like Ryoko Owari or Mori Kage Toshi."

"So what are you doing in a nice place like this?" Rakki said, smiling ironically at the burnt out husk of a building.

"I made some mistakes in Ryoko Owari," Sachiko said quietly. "I got mixed up with the wrong sort of people, and my family paid the price for it. I was transferred here so I could try to put it behind me."

"Oh," Rakki said. He quickly decided to change the subject. "Is it true what they say about your bikes and your spears?" he asked. "That they don't work for anyone else?"

Sachiko nodded, returning her eyes to the street. "The Ot-Nag is just a simple tetsukami trick, really. A spirit recognizes the proper user, and disables the weapon otherwise. The bikes are a little more complex. The spirits in the bikes have a long standing friendship with my family."

"Crazy," Rakki said, impressed. "My sister has one of those crazy Asako gyro-copter things. She loves it to death, but personally I'd never be caught on one of those things. Scares the heck out of me. Still, I'd like to get my hands on one of those void guns the Shiba have or some of that Crab body armor. Tetsukami are awesome."

"An Otaku motorcycle is not a gyrocopter," Sachiko said. "And not all tetsukami are awesome."

"Oh," Rakki said. "I'm sorry. I forgot all about Hatsu. Dammit, Rakki, stop saying stupid things." He hunched down low in his chair and grumbled to himself.

Sachiko nodded again, but said nothing. She wondered about Hatsu a lot lately. The old man had warned her to find him quickly, but she hadn't. Oroki and the strange Dragon, Rojo, had both claimed to have seen Hatsu die. Rojo had even claimed that Hatsu was the Dragon Thunder, but that didn't make sense because now he was dead. She still carried the strange pale crystal that Rojo had given her, though she hadn't been able to make much sense out of it. She carried it in the hip pocket of her armor now, occasionally touching it or holding it. The sphere had a slight warmth to it that was somehow reassuring.

"Rakki," Sachiko said suddenly, her voice terse.

"I know, I'm an idiot, it's congenital," Rakki said.

"Rakki, look out at the street," she said, quickly holding her Ot-Nag ready. "What do you see out there?"

Rakki peered up at Sachiko. She was dead serious, aiming her rifle across the street. Rakki stood and looked out his own window, frowning. "I don't see anything," he said. "Oh, wait, no. Yeah I do. There's a little kid in the alley, watching the building. You going to shoot him, Sachiko?" He laughed.

"No, but when the Locusts get here I'm going to shoot them," she said. "That's not a kid, that's a lookout."

Rakki looked out the window again. He saw an unmarked grey van park down the street, dispatching four large men in long, bulky coats. They all wore a familiar insectoid mon on their right sleeve. "Holy hell," he said. "Those guys are Locust. Should I call for backup?"

"Sure, maybe we'll get lucky," she said.

Rakki fiddled with his radio for a few moments. He cursed under his breath. "Stupid import piece of crap," he grumbled. "My radio isn't working."

"No coincidence," she said. "The Locusts are jamming us. They know we're here, and they're not happy about it. We must have stumbled on to something here."

"Oh, well yay for us," Rakki said, peering out the window again. The four men were nonchalantly approaching the building, spreading out in a line across the street. All had their hands inside of their jackets. "Looks like they're not going to start anything until we do. What do we do? Slip out the back?"

"They'll have it covered," she said. "We'll try to stay unpredictable. Get your bike ready." Sachiko aimed her rifle carefully through the boards of the window.

The Ot-Nag fired, blowing out the front left tire of the van. The four men quickly dove for cover, running for the alleys and taking cover behind parked cars. Sachiko leaped onto her own bike just as Rakki's tore past. The two Unicorns sped off down the street, quickly moving out of range of the Locusts as they drew automatic rifles and opened fire. Rakki was just opening his mouth to congratulate Sachiko when there was a sudden flash of light, like a picture being taken. Rakki felt something cold wash over him for an instant, and he felt the engine of his motorcycle cough and die. The next second the bike was on its side, crushing his leg. The vehicle skidded down the street with a torturous squeal, dragging Rakki along with it, emitting a shower of sparks from his armor. The bike slammed into a derelict car with a crash. Shinjo Rakki lay limp in the street, pinned beneath the twisted wreckage of his motorcycle. A pair of men in dark coats emerged from a nearby building, hooting and cheering wildly as they fired their rifles into the air.

Sachiko whirled her own vehicle about and stopped. She had felt the pulse, too, but her motorcycle was unaffected. She looked to the wreck of Rakki's bike. The two Locusts stared at her for a moment, bewildered that her vehicle still functioned. She fired the Ot-Nag twice, and the Locusts toppled to the ground. She turned toward Rakki again. If he was still alive, she could reach him, pull him onto the bike, and be gone before the other Locusts could stop her.

"Oh, but wouldn't it be so easier to run?" said a quiet voice in the back of her mind. "It's always easier to run, isn't it, Little Fortune?"

Sachiko froze. She knew the voice. Only one person had ever called her by that nickname. He stepped from the building behind the two Locusts she had killed. He looked exactly as he had in Ryoko Owari. He wore the body armor of a Shinjo, blackened by fire. A ghastly demonic mempo covered his face. His katana was sheathed upon his belt and he still held the Ot-Nag in her hand. Her mother's Ot-Nag. Her father's armor. He was exactly the same as before, except now he wore the mon of the Locust Clan on his sleeve.

"Grandfather," she whispered.

"Hello, Sachiko," he replied in his calm voice. "I've been looking for you for a very long time. You've done a good job of hiding from me. You almost avoided me as long as your dear mother. I'll admit, I never would have expected to find you here. Do you know why I came for you, Sachiko?"

"Because you're a Tainted, sadistic monster," she hissed.

The man shook his head sadly. "Exactly what your mother said. Such a disappointment, your mother. I had high hopes for mixing the bloodlines of the mighty Battle Maidens and the True Moto. Your mother denied me, you know. I carry those hopes to you. Shall I make you the same offer I made in Ryoko Owari? Join me and know the true power of Jigoku, or keep running away. Keep in mind that if you run again, I'll kill your partner like I killed your family. It won't be pleasant, and it will be your fault. Please don't make me do that, Sachiko. I don't like killing Unicorns."

"Leave me alone, Yotogi," she said, aiming the Ot-Nag at his chest. "I won't play your sick games." She felt the fear creep into her bones, the same fear she had felt six years ago in Ryoko Owari. Moto Yotogi was a creature of fear. He seduced with fear. He killed with fear.

Yotogi's shoulders slumped with infinite disappointment. "You're only making this harder for yourself," he said with genuine regret. "You've already begun the first step on the road to hell, but you would rather walk the path blindly. Please let me help, Sachiko."

"Leave me alone!" she cried.

Yotogi shook his head. "I've been wasting my time, it seems. I should have smothered you in your crib when I had the chance."

Somehow, Sachiko found the presence of mind to pull the trigger.

Yotogi quickly darted to one side, leaping out of the bullet's path with startling speed. The Moto snarled like an animal, his mask of civility broken. "You're no blood of mine!" he shouted. "You've killed yourself, Otaku slut!"

"Only if you catch me," she retorted, kicking her bike to life. The motorcycle spun about and sped away down the street.

Yotogi snapped his fingers, and a spectral horse fitted in ancient battle armor appeared at his side, grunting and pawing the sidewalk with flaming hooves. The Moto leapt into the saddle and galloped after Sachiko, his demonic steed easily keeping pace with her turbo-charged tetsukami motorcycle. Though she was still frightened, Sachiko was at least relieved that he'd left Rakki behind. Even unconscious and wounded in Locust territory he had more of a chance than he did with Moto Yotogi. Now she only had to find a way to save herself.

"Sachiko!" Yotogi's voice sang in her mind again. She could hear the beat of his steed's hooves on the road behind her. She could feel the heat of the sparks the monstrous animal left in its wake. "Sachiko, don't do this. It doesn't have to be this way."

Sachiko twisted in the seat of her bike and fired the Ot-Nag at Yotogi. He continued galloping, undisturbed. She could see the slight shake of his head, and he aimed his own weapon at her. She felt the hiss, she heard the explosion of air. The rear tire of her cycle exploded. The vehicle spilled onto its side and she leaped clear, rolling over and over in the street. The pavement pummeled her mercilessly through her armor, the world spun. Something hit her side hard, and she came to a sudden stop against the front wall of a video store. Her bike crashed into the building across the street, exploding in a ball of yellow and orange.

Sachiko crawled painfully to her hands and knees. She pulled off her helmet and threw it aside, gasping for air as her long black hair spilled about her face. She heard the heavy tread of boots approaching, and the click of a spear butt on the pavement. Her body hurt all over. She could barely move her right arm. Her head was suddenly throbbing as if it would explode. Her Ot-Nag had flown free in the crash. She searched the pockets of her armor for another weapon as her grandfather slowly drew closer. She found something.

"What's that?" he asked mildly. "What's that you have there?"

Sachiko held her hand up before her face. She held the crystal sphere Mirumoto Rojo had given her. It seemed to be glowing, and the little dragon within was moving like a thing alive. She felt a presence on the other end, a familiar presence. A hallucination? It had to be.

"Hatsu," she mumbled and the pain stole her consciousness away.

Yotogi approached her calmly and plucked the little crystal from her limp fingers, peering at it curiously. The jade dragon became still once more and the light died.

"A Dragon toy," he chuckled. "I see you have friends in the shadows as well. Let them come for me, Little Fortune. I guess we'll just see whose shadows are deeper." He tossed the Dragon Sphere over his shoulder. It landed in the street with the tinkle of shattering glass. The dark Moto seized the collar of Sachiko's armor in an iron grip and carried her back to his steed.

The two women on either side of Shinko Misato suddenly tumbled to the floor. Misato ignored them, crouching like a beast as she waited for either Zin or Kenyu to make a move.

"What happened?" Kenyu asked. "Were those two sick or something?"

"Careful, Kenyu," Zin said. The naga rose slowly to her feet, keeping a sharp eye on the three women. "They are not what they seem. They are pennaggolan."

Kenyu was rifling through his pockets for a spell scroll. He looked at Zin. "Penna-what?" he said.

"Pennaggolan, Unicorn!" she snapped. "Vampires!"

Kenyu looked back at the three women. The heads of the two who had fallen suddenly separated from their necks, rising eerily into the air. They pulled the entrails of their bodies along with them, the organs of their throat and torso dangling from their heads like tentacles. The sharp smell of vinegar filled the room. Blood dripped freely onto the carpet.

"Yeaugh!" Kenyu shouted, his stomach churning at the sight. He saw Zin dart away toward the bathroom. The eyes of all three pennaggolans followed. Kenyu quickly stepped into their path and drew a crumpled scrap of paper from his pocket. Taking a dramatic pose, he extended one hand toward the pennaggolans and began to speak words of ancient magic.

"Imbecile," muttered one of the creatures. It wrapped its intestines around Kenyu's wrist with a snap and threw him against the wall. The Unicorn grunted as he hit the plaster and slid to the garishly colored carpet. The pennaggolan advanced on him, lunging toward his throat. The disembodied head suddenly exploded in a cloud of red mist and white motes. Kenyu glanced back to see Zin standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her necklace of pearls dangling from one hand. The other hovering pennaggolan reared back from the naga with fear in its red eyes.

"I had not been told you were a shugenja," Misato said, raising one eyebrow. ". Well, let us see how the fabled pearl magic of the Shinomen compares to the semi-automatic magic of the Senpet." Misato drew a large black pistol from her coat. Kenyu scrambled to his feet and tackled Zin, knocking her back into the bathroom just as a burst of gunfire sliced into the doorway where she had been standing. They crashed to the bathroom tiles in a tangle of limbs and flying splinters. Kenyu quickly scrambled to his feet; he slammed the door of the bathroom shut and searched vainly for something to wedge against it.

"Thunders!" he swore. "There's nothing to block the door with!"

"Never mind that, we need to go," Zin said. "Their weapons can easily pierce that door."

"Right," Kenyu replied. He seized the shower curtain rod with both hands and tugged. It pulled away easily, leaving small clouds of rusty where it had been attached to the wall. Kenyu smashed the bathroom window with the rod, knocking away the dirty frosted glass to reveal the parking lot beyond.

"Not this way, Naga." A leering man's head appeared in the window, dangling bloody organs from the stump of its neck.

"Move," Zin commanded. Another pearl on the necklace burst in a flash of white light. A beam of pure energy honed in on the center of the pennaggolan's face, disintegrating it in a cloud of red and white.

Kenyu helped Zin crawl onto the sink, carefully easing her over the broken glass. He began to gingerly climb the sink himself, but a burst of gunfire tore the door from its hinges and sent him leaping face-first into the parking lot. He rolled over onto his back and groaned.

"Are you all right?" Zin asked, wincing as she held a hand to Kenyu.

"Oh, Bright Otaku," Kenyu swore. "Zin, your necklace!"

Zin glanced down. The clasp on the necklace had come loose, and the pearls had fallen, scattering as they hit the ground. Zin quickly fell to her knees and grabbed as many as she could.

"Look out!" Kenyu shouted. A pennaggolan burst from the window, seizing up shard of broken glass with its intestines like knives. Kenyu grabbed Zin and rolled aside as the monster's tentacles hissed through the air. Zin twisted in Kenyu's arms and turned toward the monster, firing off a burst of pearl magic that vaporized it.

"Maehata!" Misato screamed, her face appearing in the window. She snapped another clip into her pistol.

Zin began to speak the words of pearl magic again. Kenyu's jaw dropped . Another pennaggolan had rounded the corner of the hotel and quickly made its way toward them. Slithering at its side were three grey creatures, like grey squids or octopi covered with boils. Each was the size of a horse. Kenyu couldn't find the words to describe the sight, so he simply pushed Zin into movement, running toward his motorcycle.

"No!" Zin cursed as Kenyu pushed her. The beam of pearl magic flew wide, missing Misato's face and scorching her hand instead. The pennaggolan screamed as the gun fell from her useless, crippled hand.

"Bakemono!" Zin cried, noticing the beasts that followed them.

"Those are bad, right?" Kenyu asked, his voice quavering.

"Those are terrible," she answered. "I killed one once, but with the help of four Phoenix. I only have two pearls left." They ran faster.

Kenyu's bike was two hundred yards across the parking lot. The bakemono and pennaggolan were barely a dozen feet behind. Misato had left her own body behind, and was also flying after them in pursuit. They would never make it to the vehicle in time.

Kenyu put two fingers to his lips and whistled. The bike's headlight suddenly lit up, and its engine roared. The bike rolled out of its parking space and turned toward Kenyu, accelerating suddenly. It screeched to a halt before its owner, and Kenyu leapt into the seat without hesitation. Zin was surprised, but didn't hesitate either. She climbed onto the vehicle and wrapped her arms tight about the Unicorn as he sped off across the parking lot and onto the street. The bakemono and pennaggolan screamed in fury as their prey escaped into the night.

"This is amazing!" Zin said, throwing her head back as the wind whipped through her long hair. "I had no idea your motorcycle could do anything like that!"

"Believe it," Kenyu said wryly. "It's an Otaku, like the ones the Battle Maidens ride. It was a present from mom. Heck, the bike's probably smarter than I am." He pulled onto a side street, slowing the bike somewhat so they could slip into traffic inconspicuously. At least, as inconspicuous as one could be with an Iuchi shugenja and a green-skinned woman riding a huge silver motorcycle in the middle of the night.

"I don't know about that," Zin said, raising her voice to speak through the wind. "You fought well, Iuchi Kenyu. You saved my life." She leaned forward in her seat, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Kenyu grinned to himself. "I don't believe we got out of that," he said. "I mean, that was really close! I've never been through anything like that before!"

"It won't be the last time, I'm afraid," Zin said. "This will get worse before it gets better, Kenyu. If you wish to leave me and follow your own path, I'll understand." She closed her eyes and listened to the wind, imagining she could hear the voice of the Akasha in its depths.

Kenyu was quiet for several moments. "No," he said. "I'm going to see this through. This is the first time I've ever done anything worthwhile, Zin. I'm going to see this through. I'm going to help you."

"Thank you," Zin said. She tightened her arms about his waist, hugging him for a moment.

Kenyu paused again. "Do you think we'll make it?" he said, his voice serious. "Do you really think you can save the Akasha?"

"Yes," Zin said. "I do now."

"That was awesome!" Yasu shouted, throwing open the boarding hatch and leaping out onto the docks with a thud. Water streamed off of the black hull of Ketsuen. It's horizontal eye glinted with seeming amusement. The War Machine had surfaced on the shattered docks at the edge of little Jigoku, unnoticed by the Mantis coast guard or Unicorn patrols.

"Man!" Hayato said, pulling himself halfway from the boarding hatch and sighing deeply. "I think I saw three dead Scarabs and an old gaijin schooner! And did you guys see that bulldozer? How in Jigoku did that get down there? The bottom of the Bay looked like a graveyard for wrecked ships!"

"Yeah," Yasu said. "I think I saw some Crab mons on a few of them."

"Not surprising. Golden Sun Bay has historically been a popular place for ships to sink themselves," Hatsu said, climbing stiffly from the back of Ketsuen and landing clumsily on the dock. He fell to his knees.

"You okay, Dragon?" Hayato asked, looking down at the Kitsuki in concern.

"Two hours stuffed in a compartment smaller than my old filing cabinet have not done wonders for my dexterity," Hatsu said, rising unsteadily and straightening his katana on his belt. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go be sick." He stumbled over to the edge of the dock.

Hayato rolled his eyes at Yasu. Yasu shrugged back at him. "Eh," Yasu said. "He can see in the dark and stuff. Comes in handy sometimes." He strolled across the dock and sat down next to Hatsu. The Dragon sat up coughing and wiping his hand over his mouth.

"So what's our next move?" Hatsu asked.

"Not sure," Yasu replied. "We sure can't take Ketsuen much further into the city with us. Somebody's bound to see it. I figure we'll find a good hiding spot for it in Little Jigoku and Hayato should have no problem keeping an eye on it till we get back."

"We're going to the Palace, right?" Hatsu asked. "To try to warn Kameru about Munashi?"

"Nah," Yasu said. "We're both outlaws, we'll never make it past the front gates. I say if we're going to get busted, do it right. I think we should go back to Dojicorp and kill Munashi directly."

"That didn't work out too well last time," Hatsu said, shaking his head slightly. "He's ungodly powerful, pardon the pun."

"I wasn't ready for him last time," Yasu said.

Hatsu sighed. "Risky, Crab. Munashi will have tightened security and we both know it. He was expecting us last time; do you really think we'll surprise him if we go back? If the Void Dragon's giving him information, there's no move we can make that he won't predict."

"Yeah, about that," Yasu frowned. "You said that the Dragon of the Void was helping you, and Munashi said pretty much the same thing. What's the deal? Whose side is that thing on?"

Hatsu looked off at the sea, his eyes troubled. "Neither. Both. who knows?" he said. "It's hard to understand how a dragon thinks."

"You're telling me," Yasu grumbled.

Hatsu rolled the crystal sphere over and over in his hand. Hoshi had given him the artifact before he had left, telling him he could use it to keep in communication with the Hidden Dragon. All he had to do was concentrate, and the jade dragon within would awaken. He'd tried to use it again and again since escaping from Munashi, but nothing had happened. Could the maho-tsukai be jamming the device the same way he'd sabotaged Kyuden Hida's communications? Or was Hoshi simply not listening? The idea that something could have happened to the Dragon stronghold beneath Togashi Mountain chilled him.

Suddenly the crystal flared into light, and the jade dragon began to swim within like a thing alive.

"Wow," Yasu said, looking over at the sphere. "What's that?"

"Shh," Hatsu said quickly, cupping his hands over the sphere and concentrating on its depths. His thoughts focused on Hoshi, on Kyoko, on Rojo, on anyone who might be on the other end trying to communicate with him. He heard a voice, but it didn't belong to any of them.

"Hatsu..."

"Sachiko!" Hatsu exclaimed. "Sachiko, can you hear me?"

The crystal's glow faded, but the image remained. Sachiko was laying in the street, her motorcycle in flames. A tall man in scorched armor stood over her, a Locust mon on his sleeve and an Otaku naginata in his hand. Hatsu swore and tucked the crystal back into his belt.

"What?" Yasu snapped. "What's going on?"

"Sachiko's in trouble," Hatsu said. "She's somewhere in Little Jigoku. The Locust have her."

"Damn," Yasu said.

"I have to look for her," Hatsu said.

"Damn right you do," Yasu nodded.

"I don't think either of you are going anywhere," a man said suddenly. Hatsu and Yasu both glanced up in surprise. A big man in a leather jacket stood on the docks before them, holding twin pistols pointed at their heads. A howling wolf was emblazoned on his sleeve.

"Hi," the man said. "I'm Mikio."

Hatsu's hand hovered an millimeter toward the handle of his katana, until he noticed the dozen or so men spread out in the shadows of the warehouses, also aiming assorted weapons at them. Most of them were staring in awe at Ketsuen.

"I thought the docks were supposed to be unpatrolled," Yasu grumbled. "Just what I deserve for listening to a ratling. I think you'd better put those guns down, old man, before my friend Hayato gets nervous."

"Is he the one in... whatever that is?" the man nodded his head toward Ketsuen. Yasu looked up to see Hayato standing beside the armor with one arm twisted behind his back. A small man dressed in pure white held a gun to the scout's head.

"You snuck up on Hayato," Yasu said. "Well, now I'm impressed!"

"Hiroru has his moments," Mikio replied. "Drop your weapons. All of them, Hida. I know all the best hiding places in one of those suits so don't make me get specific."

Yasu and Hatsu reluctantly complied. Yasu took nearly two minutes to fully disarm himself. Two of the other ronin came forward and carried the weapons away.

"Now," Mikio said, "What are you Crabs doing here?"

"For the record, Hatsu's not a Crab," Yasu said, his voice seething with repressed anger. "And our presence would be your business why?"

"Because Toturi's Army isn't going to allow unwarranted property damage in Little Jigoku. A Hida robot popping out of the sea two days after Yoritomo exiles the Crab from the city smells like property damage waiting to happen. Go somewhere else. Our home is not your trash receptacle."

"Fine," Yasu snarled. "Let me get back in my War Machine and I'll be on my freakin' way!"

"The robot stays here," the man said. "Consider it a donation to the security of the city's streets."

"Why you grizzled old-" Yasu roared. Hatsu quickly stepped in front of the Crab, turning to the ronin with an intense look.

"Did you say Toturi's Army?" Hatsu asked. "The ones who fight the Locust Clan?"

"Maybe," Mikio said, looking at Hatsu skeptically.

"Good," Hatsu said. "Yasu, leave Ketsuen here. I'll stay with it. Don't worry."

"Ketsuen?" Mikio said.

"What are you smoking, Hatsu?" Yasu snapped.

"Think, Hida!" Hatsu retorted, tapping his temple with two fingers. "They're Toturi's Army! They fight the Locust! They can help me find Sachiko! Ketsuen will be fine until you get back!"

"Ketsuen?" Mikio said again, a hint of wonder in his voice. "That thing is Ketsuen?"

"Yeah," Yasu said. "Yeah, it used to be the Crab Armor. Now it's a War Machine. That mean something to you, ronin?"

"Mean something to me?!?" Mikio asked, surprised. "Jigoku, yes! How the name of Hida did you get ahold of Ketsuen?"

"Er," Yasu said. "Dad lent it to me."

Mikio's jaw dropped open. "Holy crow," he said. "You're Hida Yasu. I thought I recognized you." He turned toward his men. "Give these men their weapons back, now. Let them go. These guys won't be any trouble."

"Wow, Yasu, you're famous!" Hayato called out as Hiroru released him.

"Hardly," Mikio replied. "I used to be Kaiu. I owe your dad for a few favors, still. My ancestors forged Ketsuen."

"So you'll help us, then?" Hatsu asked.

"On one condition," Mikio replied, dead serious.

"What's that?" Yasu asked.

Mikio looked at Ketsuen, then turned back to Yasu with a grin. "Can I go for a ride in it?"

I am Yashin. I am Ambition.

The demons have pulled back from the castle walls. Otosan Uchi is quiet for a time. The people have begun to rebuild, as they always do. I wait, as I always have.

"The Emperor is dead," says Ikoma Genju, the Lion herald. "His body was found upon the field, torn limb from limb by Oni no Shikibu. The Empire is without leadership."

"This simply makes it official," Doji Chomei says bitterly. "Jigoku's victories can be attributed more to Osamu's indecisiveness than the Shadow's tactical superiority. I say it is time to choose a new leader."

"A Crane leader, no doubt," Hida Soga, the Crab Champion retorts. She has never been fond of Chomei, and has never found the need to conceal her disdain. Her death will be sweet.

"And why not?" Chomei asks, one hand resting on my hilt as he turns to face her. "My clan has sacrificed more than any other. Without our money and supplies the jade your troops so foolishly squander would still be buried deep in Senpet mines."

"You speak of sacrifice," Bayushi Yamato chuckles bitterly, one hand tracing across the deep scar that marred his throat. "You come to Ryoko Owari if you dare, idiot. Look at what has become of my people, then tell me if you think your strained coffers are any sort of sacrifice."

"You dare insult me in the Emperor's Court?" Chomei snarls, hand tightening on my hilt.

"My friends," Ikoma Genju says, trying to still the argument. "Please..."

"You are not Emperor yet, Chomei" Yamato shrieks, pulling his mask away to reveal the terrible burns around his eyes. Bayushi Yamato battled Kyoso no Oni for several hours, it is said, before she left him for dead in the River of Gold. He was left a mere shell of himself, missing an arm, a foot, and half his face. The court whispered that the oni's embrace had left the Bayushi with no fear, and he had proven it by challenging Chomei's campaign for the throne without hesitation. His bravery has done little but dig his grave. I can see the generals of the Unicorn, Hare, Fox, and Phoenix snap to attention, ready to support Chomei. Though the others have no love for my master, they will not support the mad Scorpion either. Now, an example will be made.

"Is that a challenge, Bayushi?" Chomei asks, his eyes lighting with the lust of battle.

The Bayushi says nothing. The Enforcer behind him steps forward, one hand on his own katana. I can see that he is no match for the Crane. He is certainly no match for me. I have drunk the blood of a thousand souls in my time and his will be merely another drop in the ocean.

"Please, let this end!" says Nariaki. He is a young ronin allowed a place in the court for his loyalty to the Osamu family. He is nothing. "We should not be fighting ourselves!"

Chomei knocks Nariaki aside with a backhanded slap, his strength increased by our long communion. The ronin crumples to the floor with a whimper. The Enforcer's eyes are dead as he regards my master. Soon, the rest of him will be dead as well.

And then the windows flash with lightning, and thunder shakes the Palace. Something has gone wrong. This was not part of the plan. An explosion shakes the throne room itself. Dozens of bushi suddenly flood the chamber, aiming their primitive rifles at everyone.

"The Mantis," Chomei says, the name dripping from his lips like bitter poison. Their clan had been forgotten in the turmoil of the war, their distant islands believed consumed by Akuma's storms and the fury of the Great Sea Spider. I spring to Chomei's hand in an instant, ready to drink deep the blood of my former kin.

"Put the blade away, Chomei," orders a voice rumbling with the power of the Thunderer. A large man strides into the throne room, clad in battle-scarred green armor. "Or Hideki will relieve you of it entirely." Another Mantis stands behind the man, drawing his rifle and pointing it directly at Doji Chomei. He is the Mantis daimyo's son, and his eyes glint with the light of bloodlust. I like him.

"Yoritomo Kenjin!" Ikoma Genju shouts. "What is the meaning of this invasion?"

"Do you not recognize naked force when you see it?" the Mantis asks. "Strange. It seems to be all you understand, of late."

"This is unacceptable," Doji Chomei says, anger rising in his normally calm voice. "We were in the process of choosing another leader when you arrived."

"Pray, continue," the Mantis replies. "I nominate myself. For four years the Clan of the Mantis has been trapped on the Islands of Spice and Silk. The other Great Clans, as I am sure you all are aware, saw fit to allow the Great Sea Spider to continue to ravage our shores and surround our territories in hurricane winds. We were forgotten. Well, the Great Sea Spider is dead now. Our armies have landed on the shores of Rokugan in full force, with none of the losses the rest of you have experienced in these Shadow Wars. The Mantis have returned to repay you for your disloyalty, my good cousins."

"Fine," Bayushi Yamato laughs bitterly. "Conquer us, then. Better to be killed by a mortal than to face Jigoku's minions again."

"I have not come to destroy you, Yamato-san," Kenjin says. "I have come to lead you. I declare myself Yoritomo I, Emperor of Rokugan. Any who wish to argue may challenge me now." At that, Yoritomo Hideki puts his rifle aside and steps away from his father. Kenjin waits patiently, his dark eyes searching the crowd. Lightning flashes outside.

"I challenge you, Kenjin," Chomei says with infinite predictability. "I challenge your right to rule the Pearl Empire."

"Diamond Empire," Kenjin corrects Chomei with a small shake of his head. The Mantis draws his katana and pulls his mempo over his face. "To the first blood, Chomei. Rokugan cannot afford to lose another bushi to petty internal struggles."

Chomei chuckles. He knows his skill is superior to the Mantis. He knows the power that I bestow upon him. He knows that he cannot fail.

But then I fail. I find that I hesitate, though I do not know why. My power dulls Chomei's reactions. He pauses a moment too long, and Kenjin's blade slices deep into Chomei's arm. The room fills with gasps of surprise. Chomei drops to his knees as I inflate the pain, drink it in, make it more than he can bear. Blood is blood, after all. Kenjin's eyes widen, taking Chomei's action to be a gesture of obeisance. The room fills with applause.

"Hail Yoritomo I!" Nariaki says, leaping into the air and cheering. "Emperor of Rokugan!"

Chomei rises to his feet once more, trying to conceal his anger. In his head, he plots his next move. Yoritomo Kenjin turns to him, his eyes triumphant.

"Doji Chomei," the Mantis says. "I would invite you to be my Emerald Champion, if you would have the position."

"Yes, Yoritomo-sama," Chomei replies, nearly choking upon the words. "My blade is yours to command."

So close. So close I came to becoming the blade of the Emperor. Rokugan would have been mine to toy with, to manipulate, to destroy. But in the end, I fail. And why? Why could I not kill the Mantis? Something... something in the past. I cannot pin it down, but it will not leave me be. I push the thought aside, and harden what passes for my heart.

Next time, I will not fail. Next time, Yoritomo will die.

Kameru sat straight up in bed. His dreams faded, like they had before. His head throbbed. What did it mean? He turned his eyes toward the two swords that rested at the foot of his bed, the sword of his father and the sword of Doji Meda, a gift from Asahina Munashi. Something about the dream, something was familiar. He could almost put his finger on it, but the memory was too dim.

"Greetings, Yoritomo-sama," said a voice. "I apologize for my brusque entry but I could not exactly make an appointment."

Kameru leapt from the bed, reaching for the two swords. He saw only a little old man standing in the darkest recesses of his room, dressed in robes of green and red. An odd mon was emblazoned upon his robes. Kameru recognized it from the painting on his ceiling of his father's office. It was the mon of the Dragon Clan.

"The old man who attended my father," Kameru said, recognizing him. Who are you? How did you get in here?" Kameru noticed he was holding Meda's sword in his hand, though he did not remember drawing it. "I am Agasha Hisojo, my lord," the old man said, bowing low. The bare katana did not seem to disturb him. "I was an advisor of your father's, though I doubt he ever told you." "Agasha?" Kameru asked. "You're a Phoenix?"

"No," Hisojo said. "I am a Dragon. My clan has hid in secrecy for a century, awaiting the Third Day of Thunder. Our existence has always been known by the Emperor and his Jade Champion. Since both have met with tragic ends, I am forced to introduce myself to you thusly. I am at your command."

"I see," Kameru said. "And you expect me to believe this why?"

Hisojo looked slightly irritated. "Believe what you wish, my lord," he said. "You saw me trying to help your father. You know that I am not an enemy, at any rate."

"I suppose so," Kameru said, putting the sword down. "What do you want from me?"

"Only to re-establish our connection," Hisojo said. "The Dragon cannot function without the Emperor's support. Surely you have heard the grumblings of the media about government spending, musings about how tax dollars are put to use? The Dragon are the answer to that mystery. One cannot fund an army on prophecy alone, I'm afraid. I have come to share with you the Hidden Dragon's secrets. You will be made privy to all of our activities, in return for your continued support. You have only to ask."

Kameru looked doubtful. "How many of you are there?" he asked.

"Not many," Hisojo said. "Several thousand. We are a small clan, to be sure, though there are more of us than you might expect. We have two major facilities, called Factories, which we use as bases of operations. One is under the Palace, and the other is at Togashi Mountain. It is from these that we coordinate our activities." Hisojo watched the Emperor's eyes. He didn't seem to react to the lie about the Factories. The Emperor didn't need to know about the third Factory just yet. Not until Hisojo could trust him.

"Togashi Mountain?" Kameru said, surprised. "Does Jack know about you?" "Hoshi Jack?" Hisojo chuckled. "No, actually. In hindsight, perhaps he should have. It was a surprise to us as much as the rest of Rokugan that he is the descendant of Shinsei. I'm sure he would be equally surprised to find out we are living beneath his temples. I would like very much to talk to him, actually. I have heard that the two of you are close."

"I think that can be arranged, Hisojo," Kameru said. "Will there be anything else?"

"Only a warning," Hisojo said gravely. "I am beginning to believe that the Third Day of Thunder is closer than anyone thinks. Be careful who you trust, Yoritomo-sama. No one is above suspicion."

"That sounds very cynical," Kameru replied.

"I've become a very cynical person of late, my lord," Hisojo replied, a tone of regret in his voice. "I cannot watch over everything, as much as I would like to. For the time being, please take these." He handed a small velvet bag to the Emperor.

Kameru untied the string that sealed the bag. Within, he found a glass sphere containing a jade dragon and a circular jade amulet on a silver chain, covered with mystical kanji. "What are these?" the young Emperor asked.

"Gifts for your protection," Hisojo said. "The first is a Dragon Sphere. You may use it to contact me. Simply hold it in your hand at sunset or sunrise and concentrate. I will be listening. The other is an ancient relic, once worn by a Crab tsukai-tsugasu. It is believed to hold a bit of the witch hunter's power. It is said to protect the wearer from the powers of darkness and maho. I believe that it may protect you from the possible influence of tetsukansen."

"Thank you, Hisojo," Kameru said, looking up from the ancient relics.

The Dragon was already gone.

Daniri's thoughts were a whirlwind. Nothing seemed consistent anymore. Years ago, he was a simple peasant, son of a welder, with no aspirations beyond a menial job and a lifetime of anonymity. Now he was a famous actor, a national hero, and an Imperial Advisor. It was more than he could handle. He only knew one thing for sure. There was one person in the world he wanted to share it with.

He just hoped he wasn't rushing things. He had a tendency to do things like that, to make stupid spur-of-the-moment decisions that haunted him forever. Like dyeing his hair blonde. That hadn't really worked out the first time. He still found green streaks from time to time. This was different. This was a lot bigger. He wished that he'd spent more than a day planning this, but he'd just come up with the idea that morning and feared he would change his mind if he mulled it over any more.

Kochiyo opened the door.

"Hi!" Daniri said, stepping inside with a florid bow. He held a bouquet of brightly colored flowers in his hand. He was dressed in a black tuxedo.

"Daniri," Kochiyo replied, looking quite surprised. She took several steps back. "What are you doing here?" Kochiyo herself was dressed in a simple blouse and loose jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Um," Daniri replied, looking a little nervous. "I figured we'd go out tonight. I wanted to do something special."

"Tonight isn't a good night, Daniri," she said, grabbing his shoulder in one hand and steering him back toward the door.

"Is it the clothes?" he asked. "I have a dress for you in the limo. I can have the chauffeur bring it up if you like."

"Daniri, just go," Kochiyo said. "Please."

"Come on, Kochiyo," he said. "I'll lose my courage if you turn me away now."

"Lose your courage for what?" she asked, her eyes widening.

Suddenly, the phone rang in Daniri's jacket. "Probably my agent," he said with a nervous laugh. He drew it out of his pocket, unfolded it, and put it to his ear. "Hello."

"Daniri," said the voice on the other end. It was Kitsu Ayano. She sounded angry. Daniri had only heard her angry a few times, and feared whoever was on the receiving end. "Turn on KTSU," she said.

"Turn on the TV," Daniri said to Kochiyo. "KTSU."

Kochiyo frowned. "Daniri, I-"

"It'll only take a second, hon," he said, covering the phone with one hand. "Come on, it's Ayano. I have to do what she says. She's my boss."

Kochiyo nodded. She gravely crossed the room and turned the knob on the television. Ikoma Keijura's face appeared. "It is not yet known how Golden Sun Studios will react to this revelation, or if the true status of Akodo Daniri was known to them at all."

"Ayano, what is this?" Daniri asked. "What are they talking about?":

"Keep watching," Ayano said.

Keijura paused, obviously finding trouble reporting what he was about to say. "All right," he said, his calm facade crumbling. "I'm a fan of Akodo Daniri. I'm a friend of Akodo Daniri. It's my wish, my hope, that this is all some sort of misunderstanding. Sadly, such doesn't seem to be the case. Documentation has been delivered to this studio proving that Danjuro is a perpetrator of fraud at the highest levels, a member of the heimin caste pretending to be a member of the Ikoma samurai family in order to gain acceptance to the Akodo Acting School."

"Oh, gods," Daniri said.

Keijura went on. "Golden Sun Studios and Emperor Yoritomo VII, who recently appointed Daniri to a position as one of his chief advisors, could not be reached for comment. How this could have happened, how Danjuro could have fooled even the highest ranking members of the Lion Clan and the Imperial Court, are still unknown."

"Daniri," Ayano said, "We need to talk. Matsu Gohei is going to breathe fire when he hears about this. If I were you, I'd get back to the studio, grab anything you want to keep, and lay low for a long time. Starting now."

"Daniri," Kochiyo said, turning off the television.

Daniri quietly folded up the phone. "Tell me it wasn't you," he said calmly. "Tell me, and I'll believe you."

Kochiyo looked away.

When she looked back, Daniri was gone. A small velvet box rested on the table beside the door, the size of a ring. She didn't touch it; she didn't feel she had the right to. She collapsed in a chair, covered her face, and tried to cry. She couldn't. It wasn't in her nature to feel sorry for herself. All she could do now is try to even things out. She picked up her telephone and drew a business card she'd pilfered from Keijura's office on her earlier visit.

"Hello," came the reply, "You've reached the voice mail of Ikoma Keijura. I'm not here right now, but leave a message and a number where I can reach you and I'll call you right back." A mechanical beep followed.

"This is Shosuro Kochiyo, the one who gave you the information on Akodo Daniri," she said. "That's not all I know. I know who's behind the tetsukansen implants and Ichiro Chiodo's assassination attempt. Meet me tonight at midnight at Sanzo's Torii and I'll tell you everything you want to know. I'll tell you about the Stormbreaker."

Kochiyo hung up, and began to get dressed.

"What will we do?" Carfax asked. The room was quiet as he waited for an answer.

The Oracles of Rokugan have ever been a favorite topic for storytellers and poets. The rare times when the five meet have been the subject of countless legends, of unmatchable grandeur and imagery. Entire mountains shake when they speak. The skies crack when they raise their hands in anger. Those very same poets would no doubt be disappointed right now, as four of the most powerful beings in the universe sat around a low table in an Ujiaki's Super Sushi restaurant.

Jared Carfax sat at the head of the table. Though the group had no real leader, he was the most outspoken and charismatic. The others often looked to his lead. Directly to his right sat the Oracle of Fire, Selena Totec. Selena was a dark-haired woman with a sultry gaze, dressed in a low-cut red mini-skirt designed to display her considerable assets. Beside her sat the Oracle of Water, a tall, dark-skinned man known only as Mazaque'. He came from the Ivory Kingdoms and claimed to have been a mercenary during the Shadow Wars. To Carfax's left sat the short, thick figure of the Oracle of Earth. Naydiram was a Senpet, and still proudly wore the golden ankh of his people around his neck, outside his leather jacket. Naydiram looked as if he had not shaved or washed in many days, but then Naydiram always looked that way. The final seat, to Naydiram's left, was empty. The new Oracle of the Void was late.

"Right now I think that information should be our most valuable commodity," Mazaque' said, scratching his chin. "We should use our resources, contacts, and abilities to find the rest of the Dark Oracles as quickly as possible."

"And then what?" Naydiram asked. "Ask them nicely to leave the city?"

"Quite the opposite," Mazaque' replied. "And then we destroy them."

"Now you're talking," Naydiram said.

"You know we can't do that, Mazaque'," Carfax replied. "If we knock down the Dark Oracles, Jigoku will just create new ones. That's the same reason they didn't kill me. Besides, we aren't allowed to use our abilities for offense or personal gain no matter how just the cause is, remember?"

"Never stopped you, wind-boy," Naydiram replied. "How much you got invested in Dojicorp, anyway?"

"Actually, I just sold all of my stock," Carfax said with a mysterious grin. "But that has nothing to do with prophecy. It's all about business savvy. Knowing which way the wind is blowing, so to speak."

"Sure, whatever," Naydiram nodded.

"I don't know what we should do," Selena said, hugging her arms to herself as she leaned back in her seat. "Then again, I'm new at this. You guys have all been Oracles for what? Like a century now?"

"Sometimes it seems longer," Naydiram grumbled, shoving a forkful of rice into his mouth. The Oracle of Earth wasn't particularly fond of Rokugani food, but Carfax was paying for the meal so he wasn't complaining.

"Speaking of new arrivals, where is Void?" Mazaque' asked, his deep voice rumbling in disapproval. "I felt Hashin's death, but I have not yet met his replacement. Should he not be here?"

"He said that he had someone to meet when I summoned him," Carfax said. "He said he would be here shortly."

With that, the doors of the restaurant opened and a large man in a dark coat strode in. His eyes held a sparkle of darkness, the power of Void. A young girl in a brilliant red kimono walked just behind him, a pearl-handled sword tied at her belt. Jared Carfax's mouth dropped open and he immediately rose from his seat. Mazaque' and Naydiram were a step behind him, both of their faces masks of anger. Selena didn't know quite what was going on, but she followed as well.

"Jared Carfax, I presume," the man in black said. "I am Moto Teika and this is--"

"I know damn well who she is and so do you, Teika," Carfax hissed. "Could we have a word outside, please?"

"I don't see why not," Teika agreed. He left the girl where she was and the five headed outside. They stopped on the sidewalk, which was relatively deserted at this time of day.

"What in Amaterasu's name are you doing, Teika?" Carfax snapped, stabbing a finger at the Moto's chest repeatedly.

"I thought she should see this," he replied blandly.

"You know who she is," Mazaque' growled. "You know the risk you take. The knowledge should have come to you along with your powers."

"Yeah," Naydiram said. "I don't think it could be much clearer. Oracles and Thunders don't mix."

"Wow, she's a Thunder?" Selena said, surprised. She glanced back at the girl in the restaurant, then back at the other Oracles. "How do you know?"

"We know all the Thunders," Carfax said. "I paid seven peasants to ask me what their identities were five years ago, and we've known ever since. Luckily the Dark Oracles can't do the same thing. They can't find out who the Thunders are any more than we can find out who the Stormbreaker is."

"Isn't that using your powers for personal gain?" Selena asked.

"Don't get technical on me, Selena," Carfax said to her. "We're in the middle of a crisis here. Facts are facts, and Oracles aren't supposed to mess with Thunders."

"But we have been trying to help the Thunders, haven't we?" she asked.

"Not directly," Carfax said quickly. "It's an important distinction. Friends of Thunders? Yes. Heroes? Yes. Villains who can be redeemed? Definitely. Thunders? No. Thunders mean trouble. Thunders inevitably end up in the center of chaos. If an Oracle gets too close, that means he gets involved. And, as you might have heard," he turned toward the Oracle of the Void again, "we are not supposed to get involved, Teika! You're not helping anyone by trying to help her. Best case scenario, you'll get us all killed and then we won't be any good to anyone. Is that what you want?"

"No," Teika said.

"Then lose her!" Naydiram said sharply. "Ditch her at the next intersection and don't look back! Then get back to doing your job! Go give Orin Wake a last minute pep talk or help the Brothers of the Day escape Holy Home City or something!"

"I am doing my job," Teika replied.

Carfax rose one eyebrow. "I don't suppose you care to explain?"

Teika shook his head. "If I told you, you would not believe me. Or you would try to stop me."

"Blasted Oracles of the Void," Carfax said, whirling about in exasperation and storming back into the restaurant. "Worse than dragons." Naydiram and Mazaque' followed along behind, but Selena stayed behind with Teika. Sumi emerged from the restaurant again, her expression confused.

"The other Oracles seemed angry," Sumi said.

"I wish they would not have taken that personally," Teika said sadly. "I suppose we should keep moving, Sumi. That didn't go as well as I'd have liked."

"Don't take it so hard, Teika," Selena said to him. "Carfax was attacked the other day, that's probably why he's in such a bad mood. The Dark Oracles are in the city."

"The Dark Oracles?" Sumi repeated, aghast.

"Already?" Teika said, also surprised. "Then we're in a worse position than I had imagined. But where are my manners? Sumi, this is Selena Totec, Oracle of Fire, recently appointed to her position. This is Sumi, daimyo of the Phoenix."

"Pleased to meet you," Selena said with a flashing smile. "I've heard a lot about you. Phoenix daimyo, master of fire, and you're what? Sixteen? That's, like, inspiring. Wow, Isawa Sumi."

"It's just Sumi now, actually." Sumi laughed in surprise. "Never thought I'd even meet an Oracle of Fire, much less impress one," she said. She bowed to Selena.

"Well, we're Oracles but we're people too, Sumi," Selena said. "Hang in there, we're behind you. More than you even know."

Teika cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh, yeah, almost forgot," Selena said, blushing slightly. "Anyway, the Dark Oracles. That's what the meeting's about. We're trying to decide what we can do to stop them without violating the rules."

"I know the feeling," Teika said. "Well, we should be on our way. Sumi-sama's yojimbo is no doubt becoming impatient. Wish us luck, Selena."

"Luck," Selena said, smiling. She watched as the Master of the Void and the Phoenix daimyo walked off through the snow.

At a glance, they looked like a normal man and a young girl, just out going for a walk in a normal world. Selena remembered when her world had been that simple. She wondered if anything would ever would be so simple again. She turned and walked back into the bar with a sigh, wracking her brain for a way to stop the end of the world.

Rashid stood upon a rocky cliff, the winds howling as they swirled about him. In the distance, he could see the gaping maw of a cave, nearly invisible in the dark face of the mountain. In the shadows behind him, the ghost of Oni no Tadaka hovered uncertainly. "This is the place, mighty Kaze," the oni gibbered pathetically. "The place where I first came to this terrible, terrible world. I can take you no further."

"Fine," Rashid said. "I need you no longer. Return to your netherworld, spirit."

The oni bowed and vanished. Rashid stood alone, watching the cave. He saw movement within. He heard the howls. Byoki. He would never survive the battle if he attacked directly. He would never sneak past them; they would smell his Taint and attack. There was no way he could logically make his way past them to find his father Kassir, or Ishan, or whatever the fool was calling himself.

Luckily, his father had never been a logical man. Zul Rashid spoke the words of the spell, calling lightning down from the heavens to illuminate his position. He harnessed the spirits of the air, using them to amplify his voice.

"I am Zul Rashid ibn al Kassir!" he shouted. "You have hidden from me like a starving jackal until now, father, but your cowardice will not allow you to escape forever! Face me before I bring this mountain down all around you!"

The howls from the cavern became louder and more frantic. Rashid quickly cast another spell, leaving the illusion of himself in his former position while he slipped away, invisible. His father, coward that he was, would be hiding in the caves while he sent the bulk of his forces to deal with the intruder. In the meantime, he would slip in nearly unopposed. He would not escape to see another sunrise, that much was certain, but neither would his father.

Within minutes, he was at the mouth of the Caverns of Twilight, peering down into the darkness. Deep within, he could hear metallic clanks and tormented screams. He could smell the power of khadi sorcery. His father was within. Rashid stepped through the threshold of the cave, and a lethargy suddenly overcame him. His limbs stiffened. His mind clouded. His vocal cords stood still in his throat, preventing any attempt to summon the kami. Rashid fell to one knee, then tumbled to the stone floor with a thud. Booted feet approached him, and a malevolent cackle filled the air. His paralyzed body was flipped onto its back. A bearded face covered in scars leaned close to his own. Kassir, his father.

"Hello again, my son," he said. "I knew you would come eventually. This is the right city, is it not? The city you fled to for succor after you betrayed me?"

Rashid could say nothing. He simply glared up at his father with hate in his eyes.

"Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter, does it?" Kassir asked. "One dead city is the same as another, so long as it causes you pain. I see that you've changed much since we last met." He nodded at the circuitry that covered Zul Rashid's arm and face. "So have I." Kassir opened his robe do display his chest. The skin crawled with scars and odd brands. Small things moved just beneath the flesh, living things. Kassir laughed at the look of disgust that crossed his son's face. "Welcome home, Zul Rashid. Welcome to the School of Enlightenment."

"At least you didn't get any of the bakemono killed," Nitobe said with a sigh. "Thank Jigoku for small favors."

Misato advanced upon the doctor, a fury brewing in her dark eyes. "That naga," she said, seizing the collar of Nitobe's jacket and lifting him from his chair, "killed over one half of my brood, took my hand, and you thank her?"

"Yes, in fact, I do," Nitobe said, meeting the pennaggolan's eyes calmly. "Now take your hands off of me before I remind you who is in command here, you monstrous thing."

"You presume much to speak to me that way, doctor." Misato said, dropping him back into his chair. She strode across the room to stand at the side of her only remaining offspring. The other pennaggolan glowered at Nitobe in silent anger.

"Consider it a test run, nothing more," Nitobe said, steepling his fingers before his face. "I was not certain of the full extent of the pearl magic's power, nor of the abilities of her Unicorn companion. Thus, I was reluctant to commit all of our capabilities prematurely. Now, however, there will be no chance of failure."

"Of course there won't be," Misato snapped. "Those two are no doubt halfway to the Shinomen after the scare we put into them. We won't have a chance to catch them. You're an idiot, Asako."

"Am I?" Nitobe said mildly. "And what makes you say this, Misato? Your cherished invulnerability? Your centuries of wisdom? Your link to Jigoku? Do you seriously believe that any of this makes you greater than me?"

"Why not?" Misato said. "You're just the Stormbreaker's errand boy."

"Hm. Perhaps you are right," he said, pursing his lips in thought. "Perhaps I am, at that. Perhaps I am a fool with no imagination who has allowed himself to become a pawn of an almighty dark conspiracy that will no doubt consume me and lay waste to all I thought I valued. I am just a deluded man who clings to nostalgia and believes himself a hero, all the while doing naught but tainting my own soul with dark sorcery. Perhaps that is it. Thank you, Misato. You're comments are most enlightening."

Nitobe stood, straightened his coat, and walked casually across the room. He stood before Shinko Misato's henchman, meeting the creature's eyes calmly.

"Or perhaps that is simply the image I wish you to perceive," he said. "Bleed."

The pennaggolan had a moment to scream before the blood erupted from its body in a mighty torrent. The room filled with the tortured sounds of rending flesh and snapping bone, as the invulnerable creature tore himself to pieces from within. In moments, it lay dead on the floor and Shinko Misato looked upon Nitobe with an expression of absolute horror. Muffled slaps echoed through the room as the last few bits hit the floor.

"What are you?" she asked. Never in her immortal existence had she seen such power, or been so terrified.

"I am Asako Nitobe," he said. "If I appear buffoonish or insignificant, then know that it is only because I allow it to be so. My friends and I have our own agenda; it just so happens that it coincides with your Stormbreaker for the time being. Now. You are going to come with me, Misato. We are going to the Shinomen Forest to kill Zin."

"And then what?" the pennaggolan hissed.

"Oh, then I'll very likely feed you to one of my bakemono for your insolence," he said mildly. "But until then, enjoy your life. Let us hurry now. Time waits for no man, not even immortals such as ourselves. For the Blood of the Phoenix."

"Hello, everyone. How are things going today?" Munashi strode into the study, fixing everyone with his ice blue eye. The assembled Asahina technicians blinked at him silently. These were the most trusted of his assistants, his elite group of tetsukansen mechanics that knew him for what he truly was. They were unquestionably loyal, but they were absolutely terrified of him. Daidoji Eien stepped into the room behind Munashi, looming like a silent shadow. Nearby, a Pekkle giggled.

"Is there something I can do for you, Munashi-sama?" asked the head technician, a man just a bit braver than the rest.

"Hmmmm," Munashi mused for a moment. Suddenly, he seized the technician by the throat with one claw-like hand, lifting the man from the floor. "How about some results on the Dragon's riddles, Suro?"

"If I may say so, sir," Suro choked. "Your new robes suit you very well."

Munashi smiled, glancing down at the robes of fiery orange and pale blue that he now wore. The mon of the Phoenix and Crane decorated either breast. "Thank you, Suro," Munashi said, smiling in gratitude. "I think so as well. A great honor, I think, to be the Master of Air. It reflects upon the good work all of you have done."

"Thank you, Munashi-sama," Suro said hoarsely, still dangling from Munashi's claw.

"Now answer the question," Munashi said. He set the technician gently on his feet. "Remember, a man is only as great as his last accomplishment. If you don't keep impressing me, I might have to set Eien loose on you all. Or even worse, Pekkle." Suro winced. "Now. Have you solved any more of the Void Dragon's riddles?"

"Almost," the man choked, rubbing his sore throat. "We've puzzled out who the Lion Thunder is. You'll be pleased to know your guess was correct. The link is weak, but it may be enough. That only leaves two, Scorpion and, ironically, Crane."

"Bah, five is not enough," Munashi spat. "I told the Crab and Dragon that I had all the Thunders' names, not that I had a pile of worthless dragon riddles that suggested their identities. You wouldn't make a liar of me, would you?" Munashi inclined his head and smiled sincerely at his technician.

"No, sir," Suro replied quickly. "But the riddles are so vague..." He picked up a sheaf of paper from the pile on a nearby table. "'The Scorpion stands in plain sight, beyond the detection of enemies. The Scorpion descends from the tower of glass, the one, the discarded, who tempers the steel of vengeance with the fires of love. '"

"Kind of sappy, don't you think?" Munashi winced. "Hardly what I'd expect from a Scorpion. Certainly doesn't sound like any of the ones I know." He shook his head. "Read me the Crane again."

"'The Crane walks unseen, underestimated. The Crane uses thought as a weapon, and shadows as armor. The Crane may be the most dangerous of them all.'" Suro read. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were the Crane Thunder, sir.

"Well, that would be funny, wouldn't it?" Munashi said. "No, I'm afraid Yoma is a bit more selective than that. Well, keep working. If nothing else, we can just figure out who has a direct link to Doji Hoturi or Bayushi Kachiko and start killing all of them. How is the other project coming along?"

Suro smiled. "Just fine," he said. "We've learned much from the Mask. All that you'd predicted and more. The improved tetsukansen should be ready within a day or two."

"Excellent," Munashi said. "And the Mask itself?"

"It still functions," Suro said. "We tested it out on a Daidoji guardsman, under controlled conditions. He went into a rage and killed nearly twenty men before the mask's power consumed him. With a stronger subject, we expect even greater results."

"Good," Munashi replied. "And the other matter?"

Suro nodded, though his face took on a confused expression. "The property you requested has been appropriated. Now that you're CEO of Dojicorp, there wasn't much argument when it came time to make the deal. All eighteen buildings are now under our possession." Though he was curious, Suro didn't ask Munashi what could possibly interest him in various buildings of seemingly random value and structure about the outer edge of Otosan Uchi. He knew better to ask too many questions of his dark master. The man was brilliant and generous, but he also had a legendary temper and liked to keep his secrets close. If Munashi wanted him to know, he would tell him, and he would find out no sooner.

"Good," Munashi said. "You've done an excellent job here, Suro, all of you." The assembled technicians all bowed and smiled in relief. "This deserves a bonus, don't you think Eien?" The revenant looked at Munashi with hate in its dim blue eyes. "Yes, indeed it does. How about this?" The old Crane's face suddenly became iron, a fierce scowl painting his face in a fearful mask.

"Find me the names of the last two Thunders," he commanded, "and I will allow you all to continue living."

"Have a nice day," Munashi said, suddenly shifting to his former good humor again. He turned and left the study as abruptly as he had arrived. The Asahina technicians immediately returned to work, slaving away as if their lives depended upon it.

Kyo laughed.

The Day of Thunder was coming. What was Akeru in him could smell it. It would not be long now. The darkness roiled just beneath the surface of Rokugan, its power held in check for too long. Soon, there would be a reckoning. He would be at its heart, the perfect unison of human and oni. He would be at the right hand of the Stormbreaker, enforcing his will, slaying all who opposed him in the name of Jigoku.

For a moment, Tsuruchi Kyo's thoughts cleared and he was himself again. He saw the dark chasm in his soul, saw how far he had fallen from what he had been. What was once the Captain of the Imperial Guard had become a soulless demonic killer. There was no way back now, he'd come too far.

Kyo laughed again.

The world of shadows that Kyo-Akeru walked through was a strange place indeed. A mind less twisted than Kyo's would quickly be driven mad by the shifting images and whirling darkness that hovered just beneath the thin veneer of reality. Jigoku was only a hair's breadth away. Hell was everywhere. The streets of Otosan Uchi blurred about him as he walked; one moment they were brightly lit shop fronts and stores, the next they were hollowed out husks filled with tattered corpses and broken dreams. The shadow images were not illusions; they were the world Jigoku hoped to create.

Living people walked about Kyo in the day-lit world. They did not notice him, though a few unconsciously moved away as he approached. He ignored them. He could kill any of them with a thought. There would be no consequences. No effort was required. He was invincible, but they were beneath him. His master had given him his orders.

Kyo-Akeru stood in the midst of noonday traffic. The cars blurred as they passed through him unharmed. The assassin turned his head toward one of the tall apartment buildings that surrounded the intersection, and smiled. This was his destination. He walked through the traffic, passing through the doors of the building without leaving a mark. Kyo-Akeru walked up the stairs of the building without truly walking. He drifted on the threads of the void, pulled along his path through force of will alone. Through three stories of stairs he drifted before arriving at his destination at last.

The assassin stepped into the world of light, leaving the shadows and images behind. He was whole and real once more, resuming the shape of Tsuruchi Kyo, Wasp Guardsman. He knocked on the door, then stood to the side of the glass peephole.

A few moments later, a voice came from the other side. It was a woman's voice, with a slight edge of fear. Kyo smiled. "Yes?" she said. "Who is it?"

"An emissary," he said. "One with similar interests to your own."

There was a long pause. "Come in," she said.

Kyo opened the door and stepped inside. Standing just within the doorway was a small and rather beautiful young woman. She was dressed in a low cut kimono of fine fabric, and her hair hung loose about her shoulders. What was human in him recognized the slightly seductive gaze she directed at him, the subtle smile. He did not trust her.

"Shosuro Kochiyo," he said simply. He removed his sunglasses and focused his entire attention upon her eyes. When she saw his gaze, she gasped and took a step back. Her mask of seductive manipulation was replaced with simple fear.

"The Stormbreaker sent you," she said. "Tsuruchi Kyo? I remember you from the Dojicorp Building. What did he turn you into?"

"I am Kyo-Akeru," he said, settling into the name the Stormbreaker had given him. "I have come to ask you a few questions about the information you shared with the Lion."

"Yeah, about that," she said. "I told them what I was commanded to tell them. Nothing more."

"And is that all?" Kyo-Akeru replied. He removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping the butt of the package on his wrist.

Kochiyo paled slightly. She bit her lower lip and stood straight before him. "Of course," she said. "I wouldn't have told them anything else. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

Kyo hooked a cigarette under his lip and replaced his sunglasses on his face. "Yes. I think you are stupid because you are." He plucked the small velvet box from the table beside the door, flipping it open to reveal the ring inside. "The Stormbreaker believes you have fallen in love with the Lion. He believes you would betray us for him. Now tell me the truth. Help me and I promise to make the end quite painless."

"Well," she said, "It's like this..."

Lightning sharp demonic reflexes took over; Kyo-Akeru stepped aside in a blur of void as the woman lunged at him. She turned, eyes wide in terror, a jade knife sparkling in her hand. It's green purity burned his eyes. He chopped her hand wrist sharply with one hand, and the knife fell to the floor. He seized her throat, turned and slammed her back against the door.

"It's too late!" she shrieked, seizing his wrist in one hand. "You can't stop them now! They know!"

"Foolish woman," he said. "You lie. You've told them nothing. Your knowledge lifted you to a position of importance in the eyes of the master. Now you are a threat to the most powerful being alive. My human curiosity demands a reason for such foolish and self-destructive behavior. Give it and I may let you live a bit longer."

"Sure, I'll give you a reason," she said, her voice hoarse from Kyo's grip. "Look at yourself, Tsuruchi. You've turned into a monster. You're not in control anymore and you don't even care. Is this the plan? Where we turn ourselves into demons and thank him for it? Where love and kindness are only weapons for punishing people stupid enough to trust? Is this the world the Stormbreaker wants to create?"

"Yes," Kyo-Akeru said. "Isn't it wonderful? Now who did you call at KTSU? Keijura?"

"No one," she choked.

"Fine then," he said. "Let their deaths be on your conscience."

"You're insane," she said, struggling feebly against his grip.

"Not I. I think you are confused," he said. He drew a large silver pistol from his belt with his free hand, clicking back the hammer with his thumb. He turned to look at his reflection in the silver of the pistol.

"And I think you're stupid, Wasp," Kochiyo said.

A burning peal of white slashed through his body as a second knife cut across his chest. Kyo-Akeru screamed, a bloody inhuman howl that rolled through the city. He stepped back into the void, allowing the day-lit world to fade away as he escaped into darkness. He grimaced in pain as he clutched black talons to his chest, nursing the wound in his thick carapace. Segmented eyes blinked in the darkness as he searched for the city once more, fading back into the world of man. The thick taloned feet of Oni no Akeru settled onto the floor with a clack, scratching deep into the carpet and wood.

The door was open. He heard the growl of a car engine outside, squealing down the street. The oni lumbered toward the window, its steps becoming lighter as it melted into the shape of Tsuruchi Kyo. The assassin removed his sunglasses and glanced down at the wound. There was no blood; the jade had left a burning black smear across his chest, peeling away the illusionary shell of his humanity to show the demon underneath. He should have thought to search her for a second weapon. Invincibility was making him reckless. Kyo-Akeru concentrated and wound sealed with a hiss. He looked up at the window again, at the tiny red sportscar speeding away across the city.

"Yes, run little Scorpion," he said in a hollow voice. "Warn them if you can."

"I'm Isawa Saigo, and this is the story..."

"No..."

"I'm Isawa Saigo, and this is what I've seen..."

"No!"

"I'm..."

"Dammit," Saigo mumbled under his breath, scratching the ball point pen across the page for the fourteenth time.

Daidoji Yoshio looked up from where he sat reading across the room. Toturi's Army had sequestered Saigo in one of the dusty rear storage rooms of Shotai's along with Yoshio and Doji Kamiko's other Daidoji followers. "What are you writing over there, Saigo?" he asked, his large eyes blinking slowly like a frog's.

"I'm taking Ginawa's advice," Saigo said. "He suggested I should write my prophecies down so we could try to make sense of them. I'm having trouble figuring out a way to get started."

The Crane looked confused. "Why?" he said. "It's not like you're writing the story of your life, Phoenix. Just list off what you've seen so we can read it."

"It's not that easy," Saigo said, flipping the pen in one hand. "The prophecies are my life; they come from deep inside of me. If I don't write them down in a meaningful way, I think they might lose something. If I can just sort it all out, then maybe I can help myself as well as everyone else."

"Try taking a nap, clear your head," Yoshio said, turning back to his book. "Always works for me."

"Can't stop, too much to do," Saigo said in reply. He continued to scribble away, scratching out every word only moments later. After twenty more moments of fruitless brainstorming, he threw the pen and notebook aside in frustration. Maybe he should take the Crane's advice. He curled up against a sack of flour and went to sleep.

"Take some consolation, my son," Tsuke said, emerging from mists of shadow. "Isawa Norikazu was entirely mad by the time he reached the position you are in."

"And what position is that?" Saigo asked. He stood and looked around. He seemed to be in the storage room still, but Yoshio was gone, items lacked detail. Tsuke had entered his dreams again. This was no ordinary dream. This was another prophecy. "The last time I had one of these dreams, I was told the Thunders would destroy Otosan Uchi."

Tsuke's eyes widened. "What?" he said. "I was not aware of such a dream."

"You didn't know?" Saigo said. "I thought-"

"Never mind," Tsuke replied with a swift gesture. "After a thousand years of limbo, I'm well used to not knowing everything. Whatever the meaning of the dream, I'm sure you'll puzzle it out. You're a clever lad. Now come, we don't have much time. There is another lesson to be learned." The dark Master of Fire extended a blackened hand toward his descendant.

"Where are we going this time?" Saigo asked, clasping Tsuke's hand in his own.

"Jigoku," Tsuke replied. The room began to blur and fade around them.

"To hell?" the prophet gasped.

"The lesson begins," Tsuke said, turning with a mysterious smile. "Tell me, Saigo, what is the opposite of Jigoku?"

"Yoma," Saigo replied. "The land of the good spirits."

Tsuke rose an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Saigo nodded.

"Sad how much you have forgotten," he said. "Truly said. Did you know, Saigo, that in the days in which I lived, there was no Yoma?" "That's impossible!" Saigo retorted. "There cannot be a Jigoku without a Yoma. The Day of Thunder is a contest between the two, it says so in the stories!" "Stories written and translated by modern writers," Tsuke sniffed in disdain. "In my day, what you think of as Jigoku and Yoma were considered one and the same, a realm of spirits. I recall there was a place called Yomi, but that was something different. It was a land of heroes, where bushi of great renown were said to go on to live forever. A testosterone invoked dream, if you ask me. Still, in the scraping up of Rokugan's broken history after the Shadow Wars, the idea caught on. The concept of a nebulous force for good to balance the all too real evils of Jigoku caught the fancy of a young scribe named Asako Yoma. I think perhaps the eternal Asako urge to make one's name live forever may have tempted him as well. He succeeded better than most, I think. Thus, the concept of Yoma was born."

"No," Tsuke said. "This doesn't make any sense. You're a servant of Yoma, you said so yourself."

"Indeed I am, but Yoma is not heaven," Tsuke said. "Yoma is just a name. What it represents, however, is something else. Yoma represents choice, freedom, growth. All of these things stand in opposition to the hell that is Jigoku. When I died, Isawa Tadaka gave me forgiveness, the forgiveness of a man that had lost his friends, his family, his very life to my madness. The opportunity was born for even my twisted soul to be redeemed. I escaped Jigoku that day, and have ever stayed a mere hair's breadth away from damnation. That is Yoma."

Saigo turned with a start. A figure was standing in the shadows nearby, watching them. It seemed as if it had stood there for some time, but had only decided now to allow them to be aware of its presence. Tsuke turned and bowed at the shadow, then turned to Saigo once more. "This is who we are waiting for, Saigo," he said. "You must go and speak to him alone. I will wait here."

Saigo nodded. He took a step into the mists.

"Saigo?" Tsuke said suddenly, his voice pensive. "Before you go, a warning..."

"Yes?" Saigo asked.

Tsuke paused a moment, his face torn in indecision. "This place... this place pierces realms of powerful darkness. Do not linger here for long. Count out three minutes, then come back the way you have come. My mists will wait for you."

Saigo nodded again and kept walking. He felt afraid. He trusted Tsuke's warning that the dream was dangerous, but what harm this apparition possibly hold for him he didn't want to imagine. He stepped further into the mists. Unlike normal fog, the mists did not part at Saigo's approach. Rather, they became thicker, wrapping about the prophet's arms and legs like cobwebs. Saigo felt like he was walking through quicksand after a few moments, though the man waiting for him seemed undisturbed.

After a full minute of wading through the fog, the mists disappeared as if they had never been. Saigo found himself standing on a barren, flattened landscape. The twisted, tormented figures of a few trees jutted from the earth here and there. A creature that Saigo could not identify let loose a keening wail in the distance. The figure waited for him still. He was dressed in a heavy, dark robe. His back was turned to Saigo; his long black hair blew in the wind.

"I'm Isaw--," Saigo said.

"I know who you are," the man interrupted. His voice was a light baritone, melodious and full. "It is good to have a chance to talk to you at last, Saigo."

Saigo narrowed his eyes. Something didn't quite set right about this man. It seemed as if he had seen him before. "Do I know you?" Saigo asked.

"Oh, yes, you have seen me before," the man replied. "Once in the skies when my brother challenged Onnotangu, at the height of my innocence. Again, in the Palace of Hantei, at the depths of my depravity. Now we meet for the third and final time." The man turned to face Saigo, revealing a pale but beautiful face with bright green eyes.

Saigo's heart went cold. "You're Fu Leng," he said.

"Yes," the man replied, pleased to be recognized.

Saigo rose his chin and tried to meet the kami's blue gaze. "Are you going to kill me?" the prophet asked.

"Why would I do that?" Fu Leng asked, shocked.

"So that my prophecies won't be heard?" Saigo said. "So that Jigoku will triumph on the Third Day of Thunder?"

Fu Leng stared at Saigo for a moment. He seemed surprised. "No, I..." he shook his head, frowning. "No. I just... wanted to talk to someone. It has been so dark here, and I have had no other companion but my own madness."

"What is this place?" Saigo asked. He could see no sign of life, though the land stretched off into infinity.

"It has no name. I call it the Beginning of Nothing," Fu Leng said with a sigh. "For two millennium I have waited here, though my soul has sometimes wandered. Here, they have whispered to me. They have made me promises. They have threatened me with unspeakable torture. I have... I have done terrible things. I thought that I was invincible once, that I was a god with no one to fear but my father." Fu Leng looked at Saigo again, his eyes haunted. "I have no such delusions now."

"What are you talking about?" Saigo asked. "Who whispered to you, made you promises?"

Fu Leng considered Saigo's question for a long moment. "You cannot conceive of true evil, Isawa."

"You're lying," Saigo said, folding his arms against a sudden chill and stepping away from the dark god. "You're the source of evil in the world. No one forced you to do anything. You created the Shadowlands."

"I'm afraid not," Fu Leng smiled, a sad smile. "You have it quite the opposite. The Shadowlands created me. You saw it. You saw them pull me away from the others as I fell. I was free once, like you. Now, I would give everything just to see my sister's face again. Poor Shinjo..."

"I don't believe you," Saigo snarled. "I don't believe any of this. You sent him, didn't you? You sent Tsuke to confuse me and make me think that the Thunders would destroy the city, didn't you? The Third Day of Thunder is coming and you want me to turn everyone against the Thunders before you get there!"

"I will never return to Rokugan," Fu Leng said. Saigo noticed dark circles around the kami's eyes, dark circles burned into the skin from centuries without hope. "There is nothing left for me there, nothing to drive me. I have no wish for conquest of vengeance. I am nothing but a useless pawn now, my opportunities spent."

"Pawn?" Saigo said. "If you were a pawn, who's controlling you?"

"All systems destroy themselves, it is a fact of nature," Fu Leng replied. "Everything that exists, from the tiniest cell to the mightiest star has inherent within the seeds of its own demise. That is what Jigoku is. It is the ever present threat of destruction, a boundless force of pure evil no more intelligent or cunning than those it inhabits. All that lives has within it the power of choice, and each choice creates more choices, but to stop choosing is also a choice. To cast out reason, love, hope, to stoke evil in the forge of one's heart for eternity, that is Jigoku. Hell lies within all of us, Isawa Saigo."

"I don't understand," Saigo said.

"Soon it will no longer matter," Fu Leng said. His blue eyes focused on the horizon. "You have lingered too long, Saigo. You must leave. It has been nice to speak to someone again, even if it was all too brief."

Saigo turned in the direction Fu Leng faced. The entire horizon was gone, replaced by a roiling mass of pure darkness. It stretched to the sky and forever to either side, impossibly large and deep. It was rolling across the landscape toward them, covering miles in mere seconds. Soon, it would consume them both. Fu Leng seated himself cross-legged on the ground and bowed his head toward the storm, his expression the bland look of one who no longer has the capacity to care.

Saigo realized that he had lost track of the time. He had to return to Tsuke's mists. He turned and ran in the direction he had come. He saw the mists part before him, and the fearful red eyes of Isawa Tsuke gleam on the other side. The darkness was moving swiftly, tearing the world to nothing in pursuit of Saigo's soul. He glanced back to see the seated figure of Fu Leng's body disappear into the cloud, its form scattering like dust as the shadow rent it apart. The ground he ran upon began to crack and break, rendered unstable as the surface nearby began to vanish. Saigo pushed himself harder, but Tsuke's mists were beginning to recede. The Master of Fire extended a hand toward him, a look of desperation on his translucent face. The mists began to vanish, still a dozen feet from Saigo.

"No!" Tsuke shouted, angry fire erupting from his eyes. "Saigo, NO!" The spirit threw his hands out to his sides, throwing open the misty portal through sheer force of will. Saigo leaped for the portal, hand extended, clutching for the spirit of his dead ancestor. Their hands met.

"Saigo!"

"Huh? What?" Saigo sat up with a start, blinking in the dim light of the storage room.

"You were dreaming," Kamiko said, kneeling on the floor before him. Daidoji Yoshio was nearby. Both wore expressions of concern. "You started to scream, so we woke you up."

"Thunders, what a nightmare," Saigo breathed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. "Thanks for waking me."

"You going to be all right?" Kamiko asked.

"Yeah, sure," Saigo said. He pulled his pen from his pocket and began scribbling in his notebook again. This time, he scratched nothing out.

"You finally writing something?" Yoshio said. "I thought you said you couldn't think of a way to start."

"That's not a problem now," he said. "This isn't about me anymore."

"I am Isawa Saigo," he wrote, "and this is our future..."

TO BE CONTINUED