"Aihime? Aihime it's getting dark. Come back inside now."

Aihime giggled as her mom's voice trailed out across the plain. She didn't really want to worry her mom, but it was a beautiful night out and she really didn't want to go inside just yet. She pulled herself up higher into the tree and sat on a thick branch, staring off at the mountains. From this high, she could see Togashi Mountain. The lights of Hoshi Jack's monasteries and television stations twinkled in the distance.

Aihime wondered what it would be like to live up on the mountain. To be up so high, it would be almost like living in heaven. You could probably reach right out and touch Amaterasu. You could step out into the sky and play a game of cards with Onnotangu if you wanted. From up there, you could probably see anything. Aihime could certainly understand why Shinsei would want to live in a place like that. Aihime wished she could live there, instead of the boring little mountain town she lived in. Nothing ever happened here. Sure, her mom told her she was still young and had plenty of her life left ahead of her, but eight years and nothing. Sure, it was fun playing with the animals in her mom's office, and she dreamed of being a vet herself someday, but there was only so much fun you could have around doctors. She was doomed to die of boredom.

The rumble of distant thunder came from the mountains. Aihime could see the first bits of lightning begin to play around the peak of Togashi Mountain. She gave a pouty frown as she leaned back against the tree's rough trunk. Soon, a storm would start. Then she'd definitely have to go back home. No more fun, then. The first drops of rain began to gently pat the leaves around her. Suddenly, a blast of white light exploded in the forest, lighting everything as bright as day. For several moments, Aihime couldn't talk or move, she just stared blankly. Lightning had hit the ground not twenty feet from where she'd been hiding.

"Aihime?" her mom called out again. "Aihime, answer me. Don't play hide-and- seek with me, Aihime."

The little girl opened her mouth to reply, still scared from what she'd seen. Just then, an angry noise came from the bushes, like a cross between a growl and a squawk. Aihime's mouth clicked shut and her brown eyes opened wide in fear. She hadn't heard any animals coming. It must have been woken up by the lightning.

The noise came again. It's cry sounded angry and painful. Aihime couldn't tell what it was; she'd never heard a noise like it. Another sound came from below as well, a piercing hiss. Aihime lowered herself in the tree and scrabbled in her pocket for her key- chain. Aihime's mom had made her carry a key to the house in case of emergency, and made her promise to never lose it. Aihime had made sure to do so by attaching as many key-chains and pieces of jewelry together as she could find. The result was a multicolored tangle of dolls, tassels, toys, and trinkets roughly the size of a grown man's fist. Aihime picked through the mess for one key-chain in particular, a tiny pink flashlight.

The young girl squeezed the tiny flashlight, casting its dim light into the dark forest below. A pair of angry red eyes shown back from the forest floor.

"A weasel?" Aihime said, breathing a sigh of relief.

The weasel hunched low and hissed up at Aihime, baring tiny fangs in defiance. It's eyes seemed to glow with an angry fire, but Aihime told herself it was just eyeshine. "Go away!" she shouted at the creature.

The weasel glanced down at a nearby bush, then looked up at Aihime once more. It hissed angrily.

"I said go away!" she said again.

The weasel narrowed its eyes and turned away from her, returning its attention to the bush.

"I mean it!" she said. The little girl wracked her brain to think of a way to make the weasel go away. She didn't want to risk coming out of the tree if the weasel had rabies or something. She didn't want to get shots. "This key-chain is magical!" she shouted, pointing the flashlight at the weasel's face again. The little animal squinted in annoyance. "If you don't go away I'll... I'll summon up Amaterasu!"

The weasel looked up at her thoughtfully. It looked doubtful.

"That's right, I'll summon up Amaterasu! And the Seven Thunders too! Shiba and Bayushi and Akodo and... um... Shinjo?" Darn. She always forgot the names of the Thunders. She hoped the weasel didn't notice.

The weasel sat down on its haunches, watching the little girl now, waiting. It's eyes seemed very intelligent. It's dark fur was black and matted. Aihime thought it was about the most evil looking animal she'd ever seen. It seemed to be daring her to come out of the tree. The rain began to fall more quickly now, making Aihime's short pigtails droop. She could hear the painful squawk again, from the bushes behind the weasel.

"Aihime?" her mom called, closer. "Aihime, answer me?"

The weasel looked sharply in the direction of the voice, muscles tense.

"I'm right here, mom!" Aihime said loudly, glaring at the weasel.

"Oh, thank the Fortunes!" she replied in relief. Aihime could hear her mom coming closer, breaking undergrowth and fallen sticks.

"That's right, weasel," Aihime said to the weasel. "My mom's coming now, and she'll have her baseball bat with her. She uses it to beat up weasels and she'll make quick work of you."

The weasel glared up at Aihime, then quickly darted off into the shadows. Aihime climbed down out of the tree just as her mom arrived. She was a young woman, having had Aihime at an early age. Her face shone with relief. She wore a short raincoat and was actually holding an aluminum baseball bat in one hand. "Aihime," she said in relief, hugging her daughter.

"Mom," the little girl smiled and hugged her mom back. Her mom always carried a baseball bat when she went into the forest, though the weasels she carried it to defend herself against were really more of the two-legged kind. Mom was very practical that way.

"Don't do that to me again," her mom said, her voice shaking with worry. "You could have been hit by that lightning."

"I saw it, mom!" she said with a sudden grin. "It wasn't even twenty feet away! It was sooooo cool! And there was a weasel, too! The scariest looking weasel you ever saw!"

"Yeah, well that's very exciting but let's get back to the house before the rain gets any worse," her mom replied, patting the girl on the shoulder. "Lightning's not supposed to strike twice in the same place, but I'd rather not push it, okay?"

"Okay, mom," Aihime laughed. She took her mom's hand and they turned to walk back to the house.

The squawk sounded from the bushes again. It was more strained this time, almost desperate. Aihime glanced back, worried. "Ignore it, Aihime," her mother said. "It's just some kind of animal."

Aihime's little face scrunched in thought. There was something about that weasel. It was up to no good. It wanted to hurt whatever was hiding in the bush. "No," she said, letting her mom's hand go and running toward the bush. "No, I have to see."

"Aihime, no!" her mom cried, running behind her. "Don't touch it-"

Aihime fell to her hands and knees and peered under the bush. Her face shone with wonder. "Oh," Aihime said. "Look at it, mom!"

"Aihime, you know what I said about wild animals," her mom said, nervously crouching next to her daughter. She set her bat on the ground and peered at the bush. "It might be hurt, or rabid, or-"

"I know, I know," Aihime said. "That's why you're here, mom. You're the doctor." She shone the flashlight so that her mom could see too.

"Well," her mom said, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that."

"It's a birdie," Aihime said. The tiny animal blinked its black eyes at the light. Its feathers were uneven and ruffled, giving it a slightly unkempt appearance. It's head was a little too big for its body, and one wing stood out awkwardly to one side. "It's just a baby," Aihime nodded.

"It's a juvenile," her mom replied. "Almost ready to fly. Looks like its wing is broken."

"Oh," Aihime said sadly. She looked at her mom. "Will he die?"

"If we leave him here, he will," she said.

"Well we can't leave him here, then!" Aihime said, becoming upset. "We can't let the little guy die!"

"We're not going to," her mom said. She reached into the bushes carefully, trying not to frighten the animal. It took several hops backward and looked up at the woman suspiciously, but allowed itself to be lifted. "Wow, little guy," she said. "You sure are tame." It squawked noisily and fluffed out its feathers to ward off the rain.

"He must know that we're going to help it," Aihime said proudly, putting her flashlight back in her pocket.

"Could be," her mom said, holding one hand over the bird's head to keep it from getting wet. She turned and began walking toward the house again. "Animals are smarter than people give them credit for. Especially crows."

"Wow, is that what he is?" Aihime asked. She picked up the bat and followed along. "Is he a crow? I didn't think there were any crows around here."

"Neither did I," her mom replied. "He must have gotten lost in one of the storms we've been having. I'll ask Doctor Kuni what he thinks tomorrow morning. He knows all about birds."

The voices of the girl and her mother trailed off into the forest, heading back in the direction of the village. In the shadows, they were followed by a pair of bitter red eyes.

Akodo was in fine shape, its repairs entirely complete. Daniri looked up at the golden robot with a sigh. The warehouse was dark, darker even than most of the city, but Akodo's outline was still clearly visible. The robot seemed to always sparkle with its own inner light.

"So what do we do next?" Jiro asked, glancing up at his brother. "That thing's probably just as dead as the rest of the hardware in this city. You going to pick that thing up and carry it on your back?"

"I don't know," Daniri said with a shrug. "I just had to see her again. It just felt right."

"You're damn weird, Daniri," Jiro said. The young thief strolled back to the warehouse windows, glancing out carefully for any sign of Gohei's Matsu guards. He ducked outside a moment later, scouting around for any sign of activity.

"How's it going, Akodo?" Daniri said, reaching out with one hand to touch the War Machine's metal surface. The metal was warm, like a thing alive.

"I knew you'd come here, sooner or later."

Daniri spun about, falling instinctively into a defensive stance. A light appeared suddenly before him, ghostly fire wrapped about a woman's hand. The flickering light illuminated her familiar features. She smiled at Daniri sadly.

"Ayano," Daniri said, straightening as he glanced away, embarrassed.

"I thought I told you to lay low for a while," she said.

"I... I was going to," he said. "But..."

"But you just can't stop trying to play the hero, can you?" Ayano asked. She smiled, shaking her head with a small laugh. "Daniri, do you want to know how I knew you'd be back here tonight?"

"It crossed my mind," Daniri said.

"Akodo told me," she said.

Daniri glanced back up the huge robot, then at Ayano, then back at Akodo. The War Machine's impassive feline face indicated nothing. "You're kidding, right?" he said.

"Daniri, I'm a shugenja, remember?" she said. "I can talk to spirits. Akodo's a giant tetsukami, and it's spirit is a lot more talkative than most." She seated herself in a golden-brown director's chair, just at the foot of the War Machine.

"How so?" Daniri asked, strolling over and squatting on the ground beside her.

"Junsui, or 'Purity,' the Ancestral Armor of the Lion," she said. "That was the tetsukami that we used to construct her. It was powerful enough for Ikimura's needs, and no one in the Lion really minded when we took it. After all, it was cursed."

"Cursed?" Daniri asked, surprised. "What are you talking about? Akodo's not cursed."

"Legend has it that the armor was cursed when an Akodo daimyo swore fealty to the Shadowlands, betraying his allies in the Crab and nearly causing the destruction of both clans," Ayano said, still gazing up at the armor. "Since then, it's been said that no one can wear the armor for long without being consumed by its need for redemption."

"Er... nobody ever told me that," Daniri said.

"Of course they didn't," she laughed. "You're a good actor, but you're not that good. I hate to break this to you, Daniri, but we chose you to wear the armor because you were expendable. You were a guinea pig. If you went mad trying to prove yourself like everyone else that's ever worn Junsui, then we really hadn't lost anything. You weren't a real Lion and everyone expects actors to be insane anyway."

"So you used me," Daniri said.

"This is show business; don't tell me you're surprised," Ayano said sharply. "Anyway, things didn't turn out quite the way we expected. Akodo likes you, Daniri. You know how the armor is. No one else can wear it for long without falling over themselves. You're the only pilot she accepts."

"Yeah," Daniri said with a bitter laugh. "Like a pussycat, huh? Just a big cursed metal pussycat." He rose and walked away from her, running one hand through his long blonde hair.

"Daniri," Ayano said, her tone snapping Daniri back to attention. She stood and walked toward him, her dark eyes searching his for something. She shook her head a moment later, uncertain.

"What?" Daniri asked. "What is it?"

"The curse," she said. "The kami that lives inside Akodo, that lives inside Junsui, has always claimed that the curse can be broken. It's waited over a thousand years for the Lion who can break the curse. Daniri, I think Akodo believes you're that Lion."

"But I'm not a Lion," Daniri replied.

Ayano glanced back up at the War Machine. "Akodo doesn't seem to agree," Ayano said. "She believes in you. Can't imagine why."

Daniri looked past Ayano at the looming figure of Akodo. For a moment, it seemed as if the War Machine were looking back at him expectantly.

"Daniri," Ayano said. He looked back at her. She paused for a moment and looked away before she spoke, torn with indecision. "Daniri, Akodo isn't effected by the blackout. I don't know why, but she's not. Take her and get out of here. Take her and find your destiny together."

"Find my destiny?" Daniri said with a smirk. "Ayano, that doesn't sound like you."

Ayano's face hardened as she looked back at him. "Daniri, I may be a Golden Sun director, but I also happen to be a shugenja from a long line of sodan-senzo and the ancestral protector of the Temple of the Ancestors. I have a right to be cryptic every once in a while."

"I stand corrected," Daniri said with a grin.

Ayano sighed. "Shut up and get out of here before I change my mind," she said. She stepped back into the shadows and the flames illuminating her vanished. Daniri was left alone with Akodo once more.

"Daniri," Jiro said, darting into the warehouse quickly. "Daniri, we have to get out of here, like, yesterday! A Matsu patrol is coming this way so I hope you're done playing with your pet robot!"

"Not done playing with it just yet," said a metallic voice. Two rows of lights along the War Machine's shoulders suddenly flared to life, casting the warehouse in intense light. The golden robot turned with a clank, folding its arms and gazing down at Jiro proudly.

Jiro stared up in awe. He'd seen Akodo on television, but seeing the real thing, the real, moving, actual thing was something else. He snapped out of it a moment later when he heard the startled shouts of the guards. "Good job, Daniri," he said, squinting up into Akodo's lights. "Now every Matsu in Otosan Uchi knows we're here."

"Then we should be going," Daniri replied. He stepped forward and the armor on his back shifted, revealing a series of maneuvering jets and a short pair of wings. He held one hand out to Jiro.

"Woah," Jiro said. "I didn't know Akodo could fly." "Neither did I," Daniri said. "Must be a new feature. Want to try it out?"

Jiro winced. "Maybe I'll take my chances with the Matsu," he said.

"Don't be silly," Daniri said, "I know what I'm doing."

The thirteen foot War Machine suddenly lunged forward, snatching up Jiro in both arms with a strangled yelp. It ran forward, metal legs clanking like pistons, charging directly through the warehouse wall, tearing thin wood like tissue paper. The Matsu Guards shouted in confusion and alarm as Akodo charged down the street toward them, golden armor blazing with its own light. The robot leaped into the air, and landed with a crunch, crouching on the ground just meters in front of them. The engines on its back lit up with a high-pitched whine and Akodo pounced into the sky, leaving twin plumes of white smoke in its wake. By the time the Matsu gathered themselves enough to bring their weapons to bear, the War Machine was already gone.

"All right," Sumi said. "The two of you saved our lives back there and for that you have my thanks, but exactly who are you and what are you doing here?" She turned to the huge Constrictor. "Have the naga awakened already?"

"I never slumbered," the creature replied. The katana was still gripped tightly in the creature's fists. Its crimson eyes watched the Phoenix carefully.

"I'm Iuchi Kenyu, Keeper of the Lands," the Unicorn said with a bow and a bright smile. "I'm honored to meet you at last, Sumi."

"You know me?" Sumi replied curiously as she returned the bow.

"Well, your friends called you Sumi," Kenyu replied. "Zin told me she had a Phoenix friend named Sumi. Since I don't usually see Phoenix stumbling through the Shinomen, I assumed you were the same person."

"Stumbling?" Shiba Naora huffed. "We weren't stumbling."

"You stumbled a little," Kenyu answered.

"Where is Zin?" Sumi asked quickly, stifling the argument. "Have you seen her? Do you know where she is?"

"She seeks the Heart of the Shinomen," Szash replied. "I seek the one that hunts her. Have you seen anyone in the forest?"

Sumi glanced at her yojimbo, then back at the naga. "No," she said. "We've seen no one. Until we ran into those creatures, we hadn't seen a single living thing in the forest."

Szash's eyes narrowed as he considered Sumi's response.

"I know what you must be thinking, Szash," said the large man in the hooded cloak. "She is not the one who summoned the creatures. Sumi is exactly as she appears to be, a friend come to help a friend."

Szash's eyes darted to the man and immediately widened in surprise. "An Oracle!" he said. The naga bowed its head deeply. "I apologize for not noting your presence before. I am honored to make your acquaintance."

"As I am honored to meet the Shinomen's eternal guardian," the Oracle replied in his slightly accented voice.

Kenyu glanced at the man, then looked back at Szash. "He's an Oracle?" he said, surprised. "How did you know? How can you tell?"

Szash looked at Kenyu with some small amount of pity in his red eyes. "How can you not?" he replied.

Sumi turned to the bushi who followed her. "Jo, how is Ikuyo?"

"She'll survive," Jo replied, kneeling over the unconscious woman. "But she won't be able to keep up."

Hogai shrugged. "It only cracked my armor," he grunted. "I'm fine."

Sumi gave him a doubtful look, but knew better than to argue with a Shiba yojimbo's sense of loyalty. "Hogai, Naora, Teika," she said, "follow me."

Szash moved into Sumi's path, his head shaking slightly. "No," he said.

"Excuse me?" Sumi replied.

"To go further is to enter the Heart of the Shinomen," Szash said. "Such is not allowed for your kind."

"He said the same thing to me," Kenyu sighed.

"Szash," Sumi said. "Or whatever your name is. Listen. I've just traveled across the entire Empire to help Zin. I lost a good friend fighting those creatures. I don't think the naga taboos are going to stop the Kashrak, and I'm not going to let them stop me. Get out of my way." She took a step toward the Szash. Though Sumi was barely five and a half feet, her fierce manner and intense gaze gave the giant naga pause.

"The Heart is forbidden to all outside of the Akasha," Szash hissed. "Even Kashrak would not dare--" "Kashrak isn't outside of the Akasha!" Sumi shouted, angry now. "Haven't you figured it out? That's why the naga were mutating. That's why your people are dying. He's been spreading the taint of Jigoku through the Akasha for a century. That's why you're all dying! After a hundred years you haven't figured that out yet?"

"It is not that simple, human," Szash said, shaking slightly in rage. "He has fallen, but he is still our brother. A naga may not raise his hand against his brother. We must find another way."

"Fine, if you won't kill him, I will," Sumi said. "This is the last time I ask you, Szash. Get out of our way." She took another step toward the naga, her lips pressed into a firm line.

"Sumi, Szash, please," Kenyu said, glancing from one to the other. "Calm down. There's got to be another way to settle this."

"Szash, what if she's right?" Moto Teika said quietly. "Your taboos are only simple rules, after all. What if something has entered the Heart of the Shinomen? What if Zin's life is in danger right now?"

"My eyes are everywhere, Oracle," the naga said with a hiss. "What could have entered the Heart without my knowledge?"

The Oracle closed his eyes as the answer to the question was unlocked in his mind. When he opened them again, they were clouded with doubt and fear. "The Dark Oracle of Water," he replied. "It may already be too late for her." Szash bared his teeth furiously, quickly looking back over his shoulder.

"There, is that enough for you, Szash?" Sumi asked sharply. "Will you get out of our way now?"

When Sumi turned back to face Szash, he had already disappeared into the forest.

Shinjo Katsunan did not hesitate. The daimyo of the Unicorn was a very efficient, practical man. His personal philosophy was that a battle was not won by your plan, but by your contingencies. For months he had known the potential threat of the Locust electromagnetic pulses. He had known that Shinjo Tower did not have the technology or resources to outfit themselves with enough hardened circuitry in the eventuality that the Locust pulses became a serious threat. He realized the chaos that would happen when they finally made their move, and that it would fall to the Unicorn Clan to restore order to the city.

So when the city fell to darkness, Shinjo Katsunan knew exactly what to do.

He strode forth from his office, his dark armor gleaming. This was not the field armor of the Shinjo police, but an ancient suit of dark purple lacquer, a long white mane of soft horsehair flowing from the helm. A short-bladed katana with a handle of darkened ivory hung from his obi at one hip, a holster with a large Ivory Kingdoms pistol on the other. A double line of Shinjo troopers awaited him in the hall, outfitted in heavy riot armor. One stood apart from the rest, a thin man wearing sunglasses and a long grey coat, his hair held back with a purple handkerchief. A cigarette dangled from the man's lip and a ball of flame hovered about the man's shoulders, casting a bright light into the halls of the Tower. He bowed deeply to Katsunan.

"Hayai and Yuki?" Iuchi Razul asked, noting with some surprise the sword and armor that his daimyo wore. "I guess it be time you decide to call out the big guns, no?"

"These Locusts require a harsh lesson in the meaning of justice," Katsunan replied. "I will show them no further mercy. When do you expect the Battle Maidens?"

Razul opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly cut off. "We are here," replied a gruff voice. A door at the end of the hall slid open and Otaku Shoda strode into the hallway. Two lines of purple-armored Battle Maidens marched behind her, the twenty Maidens stationed at Shinjo Tower plus ten more that Shoda had brought with her. All of them carried the tetsukami naginatas that the Maidens favored. Their faces were blank, emotionless masks, well prepared for the battle that lay before them.

"Otaku-san," Katsunan said, bowing to the Otaku daimyo. The stocky Battle- Maiden returned her daimyo's bow, the bow of an equal. "I had not expected you to arrive from the Hub Villages so quickly."

Her sharp eyes twinkled for a moment. "Of course you didn't, Shinjo," she said. "Truth be told, at first I thought you'd ordered me to organize that stable out of some petty political game."

"I do not play games, Otaku," Katsunan replied. "I assume you brought them?"

Shoda nodded, a fierce grin spreading across her weathered features. "Yes," she said. "Otaku war-horses for myself and the Maidens and six dozen of their less high- spirited kin for yourself and your men. They're well trained horses. Even you Shinjo should have no problem riding them. They await us downstairs in the garage."

"Excellent," Katsunan said. He turned to the Shinjo Troopers and Battle Maidens. All of their eyes were upon him, awaiting the words he would say next. "Ladies. Gentlemen. The Locusts believe we are weak, helpless and dependent upon our machines. Tonight, we teach them the folly of underestimating the Unicorn."

"Tonight, we ride."

The Crab War Machine stood on a rooftop across from the Dojicorp building, possibly the same one Yasu and Hatsu had used to gain entrance to the skyscraper nearly a week ago. A few dozen Crane samurai were visible around the large bonfires they had made for light. They patrolled the streets before Dojicorp warily, waiting for any sign of attack. "Lot of the little blue buggers down there, Yasu," Hayato said, sitting back in Ketsuen's pilot seat.

"I hope this visit turns out better," Yasu remarked. "Last time I got beaten up by trees, zombies, and midgets."

"Midgets?" Hayato asked, looking at Yasu in bewilderment.

"Long story," he replied. Yasu peered closer at Ketsuen's monitor screens, looking at the view of the street below. "I'd rather not share."

"Hey, I got an idea of something you can share instead," the scout said. "Why don't you share your plan with me? Since I'm, like, driving the War Machine and all I have to admit I'm vaguely curious how you think we're going to get a twenty foot robot to the sixtieth floor of an office building to take out one old man?"

"We're not," Yasu answered. "We're just the distraction. See if Kamiko and her Cranes are in position."

Hayato gave Yasu a doubtful look, but nodded and took the controls of the War Machine. The huge robot lumbered to the far edge of the roof and held out one hand. A pale green light flashed from the laser on it's left forearm. A moment later, a flash of light rose from the street in response. "This would be easier if we still had radios," Hayato remarked.

"Be thankful we still have Ketsuen," Yasu replied.

"So what do we do now?" Hayato asked.

"We jump down into the street and start shooting," Yasu said. "Just cause a lot of ruckus and confusion so Kamiko and her Daidoji can sneak in through the basement entrance. With the Locust pulse going out, they won't have too many weapons left strong enough to hurt Ketsuen and their security systems won't see Kamiko coming. We just need to cause enough property damage to make the Cranes think we've come to kill them so they won't be watching the back door."

"And are we?" Hayato asked. "I mean, most of them probably don't even know what Munashi's up to. They're just doing their jobs down there."

"I know that," Yasu said, annoyed. "Don't worry. I'll try not to hurt any of the pretty little Cranes, Hayato. And if you're good, maybe we can take one home."

"Yasu, this is the stupidest plan ever," Hayato said. "We don't have any contingencies, don't have a proper gauge of our enemies tactical abilities, this is a desperate stab to try to do some damage to an enemy we're otherwise powerless against. You know that, don't you?"

"So you want to just let Munashi go?" Yasu replied. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Of course that's not what I'm saying," Hayato said. "I just want you to know what a stupid idea this is."

"Do you have a better plan? I'm listening."

Hayato scowled, his hands tightening on Ketsuen's controls. He shook his head slightly. "This isn't the way I like to do things, Yasu. I'm more of a planner. I don't like going off half-cocked like this. I know you do it all the time, but even you'll have to admit it isn't always the best way to do things."

"Well, yes, sometimes you get beaten up by midgets," Yasu admitted. "But sometimes it works. I'm, hoping this will be one of those times."

"Fortunes be with us," Hayato mumbled.

"Give Kamiko another signal," Yasu said. "Let her know we're ready to move."

"If I die, Yasu, I'm going to come back and haunt you," Hayato remarked, flashing another beam of green light down to the Daidoji.

"I can accept that," Yasu replied. He leaned forward in his own seat, ready to take control of the War Machine's weapon systems.

Kamiko's group in the alley responded with a flash of light, and Ketsuen's engines roared as the War Machine fully came to life. The massive robot stomped over to the edge of the roof, picking up speed.

"Um, Hayato?" Yasu said. "Shouldn't we climb back down the way we came first?"

The scout shook his head. "If we're doing this your way, Yasu, we're doing it right. Time for the element of surprise." The Crab War Machine accelerated, running toward the edge of the roof, toward the Dojicorp Building.

"Oh, crap," Yasu grumbled, quickly reaching for his safety harness.

The robot paused for a fraction of a moment at the edge of the roof, the sound of its thunderous footsteps ceasing. A few of the Crane guards down on the street looked up curiously, wondering what the racket was all about. The great War Machine's legs coiled with the force of its run and extended, launching the metallic monstrosity into the air. The Cranes below stared up in wonder at the huge black shape that suddenly eclipsed the light of the stars above them, flying across the space of the street. Ketsuen pulled its limbs into a tight ball around its body as it impacted brilliantly with the tenth floor of the Dojicorp Building, exploding in a shower of blue and white crystal. The floor beneath the War Machine crumbled, unprepared for the sudden weight and impact. The next floor gave way as well, dropping the black metal beast again. Floor after floor broke as Ketsuen plummeted, shattering windows and spraying rubble in its wake. The Cranes on the street fled as debris rained down on them.

For over a minute, the street was a mess of breaking glass, shattering rock, and screaming. Finally, the cacophony ceased. A massive crater stood in the place of the once graceful and majestic entranceway of Dojicorp. A scar of destruction cut the exact center of the building, cutting away a chunk of architecture roughly the size of a small bus from the ground level to the tenth story. Smoke and dust rose from the wreckage. The Crane guards quickly encircled the crater, training their weapons at the mass of black metal at the bottom.

"Fire!" the commander shouted without hesitation.

The silent street filled with the sounds of automatic gunfire and noisy ricochet. For another full minute the Crane soldiers fired. Two, maybe three grenades detonated in the crater, throwing up plumes of red fire and white smoke. Finally, the commander called for a cease fire. He moved closer to the edge of the crater, hoping to get a better look at whatever his men had just destroyed.

And Ketsuen unfolded from the crater with a metal hiss. The commander looked up with his mouth hanging open. The War Machine gazed down at him impassively with its slit eye. The robot was slightly dented in two places and covered with dust, but completely unharmed by the fall and the Crane onslaught.

"Hi," Yasu's voice said through the loudspeakers. "Sorry about the mess. Is Munashi home?"

The Crane commander backpedaled, quickly shouting orders for his men to open fire once more. Ketsuen rose its right arm, the great claw at the end shielding its face from the hail of bullets that followed. It reached up with its left hand and drew the tetsubo from its back, slamming the weapon down onto the street with tremendous force. The Cranes were thrown to the ground from the shockwave. Many of them turned and began to run.

"You see?" Yasu said, turning to Hayato with a wide smile. "I told you this would work."

"Don't say that, Yasu," Hayato said nervously. "Things always go straight to hell when you say that."

"Oh, don't be silly," Yasu said. "What could they possibly do to us?"

A blur of silver-gold and blue suddenly exploded from the ruined face of the Dojicorp building, streaking past Ketsuen with a sudden metal clang. The War Machine's tetsubo suddenly went spinning from its hand, landing with a thud over a hundred feet away.

"What the?" Yasu said.

"I told you," Hayato said, quickly turning the War Machine about to draw a bead on their new enemy. "You never listen to me, you freaking jinx."

Ketsuen's monitors suddenly focused on single figure standing in the midst of the street. It was tall and willowy, nearly twelve feet tall. It's skin was shiny white metal, covered with white-golden samurai armor. It wore no helmet, but its face curved downward like the beak of a bird. A cloak of long, white metal feathers extended from its back and arms. Its hands held the hilt of a long silver katana, already returned to its sheath. Its eyes shone a cold blue.

"What in Jigoku is that?" Yasu asked.

"By the Fortunes," Hayato swore. "It looks like a Crane War Machine."

"Get back!" the little monk said, fiercely wielding his broomstick. "I've been trained to use this!"

"So I see," the man on the steps replied. "Far be it from me to doubt the martial prowess of my Karasu brothers. I stand at your mercy, young friend."

The monk blinked in disbelief. "You're not--" he said. "You can't be-- It can't possibly--"

"You sound rather confused," the man said with a grin. "Should I return another time?"

The woman on the steps behind him rolled her eyes. She was dressed in sleek green armor, a pair of guns holstered upon her belt. She stepped forward quickly. "Listen," she said. "We don't have a lot of time to screw around here. Are you going to let us in or not?"

The little monk ignored her completely. "Hoshi Jack-sama! The descendant of Shinsei! Here!"

"So they tell me," Jack replied. "Please inform Master Jotaro that I am here. I wish to seek succor in your temple for the evening, and some important friends of mine will wish to do so as well. Can you remember all of that, my friend?"

"Yes, sir!" the boy replied. "Yes, sir, Hoshi Jack-sama!" He darted off down the hallway, then nearly tripped over himself as he stumbled back with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I almost forgot. Please feel free to come into the temple. You are welcome here."

"Thank you," Jack nodded as the boy darted off again. He turned to Daikua Kita. His friendly eyes became worried once more. "Go," he said. "Return to the Palace and find Kameru. I will be safe here until you return, and you will move faster without me."

Kita nodded and turned away.

"Kita," Jack said as she hopped down the stairs. The soldier glanced back at him. "Remember what I told you. Please."

She nodded and disappeared into the streets.

Jack stood at the top of the steps, looking out with a sigh. It was a night like this, he remembered. A night very much like this when it all began. A dark night. A terrible night. The sort of night you wished you could forget. Of course he never would. He turned and entered the temple, passing through the darkened hallways. The old monk ignored the darkness, finding his way without candle or torch-light. He had been in Gekkoshinden many times before, and even without light he could find his way.

In the darkened shadows behind Jack, another monk crouched unseen. He noted the passing of the descendant of Shinsei, and waited until the man had passed out of earshot. He rose quickly and darted up a hidden flight of steps, to the second floor, to the other visitor who had sought protection in the temple this evening. Normally, the temple would be hesitant about allowing a stranger to stay within the walls on such a dangerous night, but this stranger was a very important holy man, and he was to be afforded every luxury the temple had to offer.

He was also to be notified if anyone else was to arrive, immediately and discreetly.

"Sama," the monk said, opening the door and bowing quickly. "Another visitor has arrived at Gekkoshinden."

The man looked up from his newspaper, a small smile playing across his lips. Nearby, a small child with a pale face and rosy cheeks giggled happily. "Really," the man said. "Tell me more, Koan..."

"I am Kin'Iro, the Crane War Machine," a metallic voice announced from Ketsuen's opponent. "You have damaged Dojicorp property. In the name of Asahina Munashi, I demand your surrender."

"A Crane War Machine?" Yasu said, surprised. "How the hell did they make one so quick? Ketsuen's still a prototype!"

"Worry about it later, Yasu," Hayato shouted back. Here it comes!"

The platinum and blue figure launched into motion again, darting in toward Ketsuen faster than the eye could see. Ketsuen lurched hard to the left, trying to shield itself with its oversized claw. Kin'Iro was faster, its blade flying from the saya with a loud clang. Ketsuen spun and swung outward with a backhanded left fist but the Crane was already gone, continuing its run past Ketsuen, its katana already returned to the sheath. Ketsuen turned to face it once more, stumbling slightly as a metallic whine and puff of smoke emerged from its chest.

"Damage report," Yasu said.

Hayato reared back as a shower of sparks erupted from the War Machine's controls. He seized up a small fire extinguisher at his side and sprayed the control panels, waving away the extinguisher's white fumes as rapidly as possible. "Nothing serious," Hayato said, looking at the readouts of one monitor. "That sword is charged with some kind of energy. When he cut us, it overloaded one of the power cells in the lower torso."

"Do we have backups?" Yasu asked.

"Toshimo built this thing, of course it has backups," Hayato said.

The Crane stood one hundred feet down the street, it's back facing the Crabs. Its hands were at its sides, far from its blade. Ketsuen carefully paced its way back down the street toward its tetsubo, lifting the heavy weapon in one hand and watching its opponent carefully.

"What's it doing?" Hayato asked.

"Looks like its waiting," Yasu said. "Probably wants to see if we're dishonorable enough to shoot him in the back."

"Well, are we?" Hayato asked.

"I don't know," Yasu replied. "I'm still thinking about it. Uh oh."

"Uh oh?" Hayato said. "What's 'Uh oh?' Define 'Uh oh.'"

"Looks like our friend here has the Shadowlands Taint," Yasu said, gesturing at a readout on the panel before him. Down the street, the Crane turned slowly to face them again, blue eyes glowing in the darkness. It inclined its head toward them, very slightly.

"The taint?" Hayato asked. "So I guess he's one of Munashi's conspirators, then."

"No," Yasu replied with heavy sarcasm. "It's probably just a coincidence." Yasu took up his controls and squeezed the trigger on either handle. Immediately, Ketsuen aimed its left arm at the Crane War Machine; a beam of pure green light fired from the large barrel on its forearm. Kin'Iro dodged a step back but the beam sliced through its left arm. A tortured metallic scream rose from the armor. It grasped its wounded arm, the silver armor left black and smoking by the jade laser.

"That's right!" Yasu shouted through the loudspeakers, his voice echoing down the street. "You go and tell Munashi. You tell him what happens when you jack with the Crab Clan!" Yasu pressed a series of buttons, causing a pair of small missile racks to emerge from Ketsuen's shoulders. Dozens of small missiles, each the size of a man's fist, streaked toward the Crane. The street immediately burst into flame as the incendiary gases within the missiles were released. The wounded figure of the Crane vanished in the glare.

"Good job, Yasu," Hayato said, wheeling Ketsuen around frantically. "A little overkill, don't you think?"

"Oops," Yasu replied, realizing that they'd lost sight of their opponent. "I guess I got a little excited. I've been wanting to push the 'napalm missile' button since we first got in here. If it helps, I'm pretty sure we hit him."

Ketsuen stomped out into the center of the street, standing at the edge of the flame, it's claw and tetsubo ready. It's single slit eye scanned the street surrounding the fire for any sign of attack, any sign that the Crane still lived.

And then it came. A shimmer of blue from the very heart of the napalm inferno. Kin'Iro launched itself from the harshest part of the fire's glare, a bright aura of blue light sparkling around its body. Hayato and Yasu barely even saw it before it struck, barely moved the tetsubo to block in time. The Crane's blade stopped in mid-swing, dodging away from the tetsubo in a feint and slicing inward once more.

Alarms flashed and blared inside Ketsuen's small cockpit. Hayato watched in horror as the War Machine's tetsubo fell to the street once more, along with the arm that held it, severed cleanly at the bicep.

"It chopped our arm off!" Yasu shouted. "Let me drive!"

"I can handle this," the scout growled, fighting with the controls as the Crane directed a series of quick sword strokes toward them. Most of them deflected off of Ketsuen's huge claw, some cut small gouges into the robot's legs. None were powerful attacks, none were directed with enough force to kill or maim.

"Surrender, Crab," Kin'Iro's voice called out, garbled by a strange mechanical echo. "Your tetsubo and laser are gone. Your missiles will be just as dangerous to yourself at this range. That ponderous claw will never hit me. Soon, you won't even be able to stand."

"Hey, yeah, surrender," Yasu said to Hayato. "That's a really good idea. Maybe if we turn ourselves in, Munashi will give us a nice tour of his garden. Is this guy freaking insane or something?"

"Or something," Hayato said, struggling to parry the Crane's blows. "Can't really talk right now, Yasu. Sort of busy. Think you could, oh, I don't know, help me stop this damn Crane before he fillets us?"

"Damnit, Hayato," Yasu swore. "You shoot. I'll drive." Yasu reached out and flipped the pilot override switch on Ketsuen's control panel, transferring control of the robot's movements to himself.

Hayato glared at Yasu. "Fine," he said. "See if you can do better."

"You're too subtle, Hayato," Yasu replied. "Watch and learn."

The Crane noted the small shift in Ketsuen's movements, the change in the way it reacted to his attacks. It leapt backward several steps to appraise its foe. Ketsuen dropped its claw to one side, crouching low. The Crane's eyes narrowed. The Crab's claw was too far behind its body. It would never be able to deflect an attack to its torso. One cut quick enough could end the fight. Kin'Iro was quick enough.

The Crane darted inward with its blade. To its surprise, Ketsuen charged. Frantically, the Crane tried to dodge aside, the claw swept up behind it, too late to parry Kin'Iro's initial attack but quickly enough to sweep the smaller machine into a deadly embrace. Ketsuen toppled forward onto its stomach, holding the Crane beneath it. The Crane desperately brought its sword around to meet the larger robot's mass. A flash of blue erupted from the Crane War Machine's body and then a sickly metal crunch resounded through the street, followed by a whine of failing electronics and showers of sparks.

For several moments, Hayato simply stared in horror at the silver katana blade piercing the cockpit, stopping only three inches from his face. Damage alarms blared all around them. Monitor screens flashed warnings. Yasu smirked.

"What the heck was that all about?" Hayato snapped. "What have you done?"

"We won," Yasu said. "That toothpick couldn't have survived."

"Neither could we!" Hayato said. "We impaled ourselves on its sword!" He pointed at the katana. "Look at the readouts! You took out two of the three remaining power cells! We'll be lucky if we can limp this thing back to the Kyuden!"

"But we won," Yasu replied mildly. "You can drive again now if you want."

Hayato sighed in irritation, seizing back the controls. With a tortured groan of bent metal and damaged joints, Ketsuen crawled to its knees again. Gingerly, it grasped the hilt of the Crane's sword, sliding it out of its eye and dropping it to the street once more. The large katana bounced on the pavement with a metal clang.

"We'd better get the Jigoku out of here before Munashi shows up," Hayato said, steering the War Machine toward its severed arm. Ketsuen lifted the lost limb in its claw, draping it carefully over one shoulder. Suddenly, the robot paused, its cracked eye frozen upon the crater it had left in the pavement.

There was a perfect hole, knocked all the way through the street to the sewers beneath.

The Crane War Machine was gone.

"Seven Thunders," Yasu said. "It must have used that weird force field to drive itself right down through the street. Well, I'm impressed. I wonder who was driving that thing."

"Good question. Why don't we come back and find out later?" Hayato asked. He turned Ketsuen away from Dojicorp, beginning a ponderous jog down the street.

In the sewers beneath Dojicorp, the War Machine crouched in the shadows. Kin'Iro held its wounded arm in one hand and watched the hole in the street above, waiting for the Crab to come to finish what it had started. It was unarmed now, the power of its force field drained. The wound to its arm had been worse than it had let on. Kin'Iro's metal arm had liquefied, the metal searing itself onto the pilot's actual arm. He could feel the hot steel cutting his arm to the bone. He ignored the pain and waited for the Crab to come after him.

Nothing happened.

"Well done," squawked a voice in Kin'Iro's helmet. Asahina Suro, Munashi's chief technician. "Well done, indeed. The Crabs are retreating."

"I didn't beat them," the pilot hissed quietly.

"But you didn't lose, either," Suro replied. "The armor functioned nearly as well as we hoped. In some ways, it exceeded our expectations. And so did you. You were ruthless, flawless, a perfect killing machine. Now, come back to Dojicorp. You still have some work to do tonight."

"The armor," the pilot said. "It feels strange. When the Crab shot me, something happened. My head is numb..."

Suro sighed. "I'm sure you'll be fine, revenant," he replied. "After all, you're already dead. What else could happen to you? Get back up to the lab. We'll whip you back to your soulless, murdering, undead self in no time."

The pilot gritted his teeth at the technician's flippant remarks. It was true, all of it. Though something of his old self remained aware, some small part of him knew the evil that he served, there was no more hope for him. He was a puppet now, a thing to dance at Asahina Munashi's whims, a creature with no honor that cared only for death.

Or was he? His mind drifted as he made his way through the tunnels beneath the streets, his left arm throbbing. If he was truly such a monster, then why had he offered to let the Crab's surrender?

The mystery plagued him all the way back to the lab.

"For the Blood of the Phoenix," Nitobe said.

Zin screamed in pain as her blood turned to fire. She stumbled backwards, crumbling to her knees. The Dark Oracle put his glasses in his pocket and rose from the tree stump upon which he had been sitting. He walked toward her with a leisurely pace, breathing in the deep, fragrant air of the forest. He squatted down beside her and cocked his head slightly. Zin gritted her teeth and dug her fingers deep into the soil. Her body trembled as Nitobe's dark magic coursed through her veins.

"This is a magical place," he said. "The Akasha and the pearl beds seem to be shielding you from my maho. You should have exploded in a shower of blood by now and I can't say I'm not disappointed. Still, you can't protect yourself forever, not from magic as powerful as mine. You're out of pearls and you're out of options, as you will find Jigoku's power renders me quite immune to any mortal weapons you may still have concealed upon your person. You'll just die more slowly now unless you stop fighting me. I can tell you right now, Zin, it doesn't really matter to me. Die now or die later, it's all the same to me. I can stand to wait. It's been far too long since I've had a good chance to drink in the beauty of nature."

Zin looked up painfully, her eyes meeting Nitobe's. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to speak.

"How quaint," Nitobe said with a little smile. "You want to tell me something? What is it, Zin? What will your heroic final words be? I'll be sure to jot them down or something."

Zin's jaw trembled and her eyes gleamed. She forced the words out. "You... shouldn't..... you shouldn't.... have..."

"Yes?" Nitobe asked with a smug chuckle. "Enlighten me, please. What shouldn't I have done?"

"You shouldn't have..." she gasped, "You shouldn't... have taken off... your glasses."

Nitobe's brow furrowed in confusion for the barest moment before Zin sprang forward, flinging a handful of hard packed dirt and tiny pebbles into his face. The Oracle cursed as the debris blinded him, stumbling backward and losing concentration upon his spell.

"Water!" he shouted. Clear water materialized and washed over the Oracle's face, quickly cleaning away the particles. He glanced around quickly, shaking with anger and humiliation. He could hear the footsteps padding away from him as Zin fled.

"Damn you girl!" he swore. Nitobe rose to his feet, his long coat flapping in the wind behind him. "Damn you to Jigoku! Asako Nitobe endures such treatment from no one!"

Zin didn't look back. She feared what would happen next, feared what the doctor would do if he got so much as another glimpse of her. She would have to move quickly, leave no trace of her passage for him to follow. She stumbled through the roots and undergrowth, but found her passage begin to go more smoothly. Memories flooded back into her head, memories of a time when she had been trained to move quickly and stealthily through any sort of terrain. Memories of her life as a Seeker, as a human. She didn't have time to dwell on them.

She could hear Nitobe's voice echo through the forest. "STORMS OF JIGOKU!" the Oracle screamed, his voice insane and hysterical. Thunder cracked the deep silence of the Shinomen. A sudden deluge of rain tore through the forest canopy, soaking Zin instantly. She nearly slipped and fell as the earth became mud, nearly choked on the coppery smell that suddenly filled the forest.

Zin realized in horror that the rain was not water. She gazed down at her hands, her dress, now soaked in blood.

"Blood speaks to blood, girl!" Nitobe screamed from behind her. "You cannot escape me! You cannot hide! All of your tricks will avail you nothing, naga! The blood that coats your skin and soaks your clothing will betray you!"

Zin kept running. Behind her, she could hear three quick implosions of air, followed by guttural roars. Something large began to crash through the trees behind her. A sound like cracking whips slashed through the trees, tearing some of the smaller trunks in half. A bubbling sound like a man screaming underwater followed her. She recognized it as the cry of a bakemono, but louder than the ones she had encountered before.

"Yes, you recognize its call, don't you, Zin?" Nitobe's voice called out. "The bakemono is a wonderful creature. So simple, so focused. All it wants to do is to kill. Makes you a bit jealous, doesn't it? Wouldn't it be nice to have a life so uncomplicated? Ah, but it is the way of intelligent life to complicate things, isn't it? Pretending to be a doctor. Pretending to be a naga. Spying on the Phoenix. I suppose we both have a little experience at that, though, don't we?"

Zin looked around for some avenue of escape, some option besides running blindly. There didn't seem to be anything. She could hear the bakemono getting closer. She leapt into the branches of one of the Shinomen's thick ancient trees and quickly pulled herself upward, the ends of her bloodstained dress shredding in the branches.

"Yes, you were a spy among the Phoenix as much as I was, I'll wager," Nitobe laughed. "The naga must be pretty desperate by now, willing to do just about anything to wake themselves up again. Don't tell me that you never took a look at that sword of Sumi's, that pearl handled sword, that sword that gives her a group consciousness with the Champions of the past so very similar to your own Akasha. Don't tell me you never considered taking it up yourself and seeing what kind of magic you could make with it. And don't tell me the Akasha never asked about it because I know that they did. An extraordinary coincidence, don't you think, that you happened to find two Elemental Masters and the daughter of a third on your first night after escaping Kashrak? Simply incredible."

Zin paused. She knew the Oracle's words were meant to unnerve her, unsettle her, trick her into revealing her position. Still, that last bothered her. She had been curious about Ofushikai from time to time. She had wondered, vaguely, what it might do in the hands of a naga. She wondered now if that curiosity had been her own or if it had been implanted there.

Zin snapped back to reality just in time to dodge as a thick tentacle whipped through the tree's branches. She could see the bakemono suddenly latch itself to the tree's trunk and begin to shift its ponderous body upward. It was enormous, larger than any of the others she had faced, the size of a Rokugani bus. She scrambled higher in the branches, heading for where they were thickest in hopes of shielding herself from the monster.

"Another thing you might want to consider about the bakemono," Nitobe laughed from somewhere below. "They become more powerful as they consume more flesh. I wonder what might happen to this one after he finishes you, Zin, the Akasha's chosen warrior. Why don't we find out?"

A tentacle as thick as a man's waist collided into the trunk beside her with a crack. Zin swung herself nimbly to the opposite side of the tree and continued upward. She couldn't keep climbing forever and the trunk was starting to get narrower. Soon it would be thin enough for the monster to snap. She pulled herself onto a branch nearly three feet in diameter and ran out onto its length. With luck, she'd be able to leap from it onto another tree and climb down to safety.

"Black Fortunes, this is ridiculous," Nitobe shouted. "I feel more like a fireman rescuing a treed kitty than a Dark Oracle. I shouldn't and I don't have to put up with this kind of abuse, Zin! DIE!"

Zin felt a pulse of cold wash through the forest as Nitobe invoked his magic, but the spell was not directed at her. She felt the tree shudder beneath her, saw its bark become grey and brittle and dead. The Oracle had drained the tree of moisture, and now it was quickly crumbling. Zin ran as quickly as she could without losing her balance. The canopy at this level was dense; the leaves were so thick she could barely see two feet. None of the other trees nearby were large enough to risk leaping onto. A tentacle cracked just behind her, leaving a deep welt across her hip. The limb beneath her was beginning to crack and droop from her weight.

Zin closed her eyes, and jumped.

For several seconds, she felt only the cool rush of air. Then icy cold seized her body as she met the surface of the water. Zin gasped she began to breathe, gills on the side of her ribcage pulsing. She had fallen into a deep pool hidden just beneath a layer of moss and algae. Fouled by Nitobe's rain of blood, the water filled with an eerie brown light through the hole she had left. A memory clicked in Zin's head, something long buried from the decades she had slumbered in the forest. There was something familiar about this place.

The surface suddenly churned behind her as the Bakemono landed, a monstrous octopus lurching through the aquatic environment. Zin kicked her legs more quickly, her tattered dress hampering her as she swam deeper into the pool. The bakemono drew closer, its greater mass allowing it to dive quickly through the water. Zin aimed for a dark ravine deep in the pool. She reached out with both hands, pulling herself along moss covered rocks and rough-hewn shells, trying to dive into the darkness before the bakemono found her.

Something sharp struck her ankle and held fast. Zin winced in pain, turned about in the water, and kicked. The tentacle that held her calf fast was unaffected by the blow. The dark shape of the bakemono loomed above her. Another snake-like limb shot out to bind Zin's arm, and a third held her waist in a crushing grip. She could see the monster's dark eyes gleam in the water. It's beak-like mouth opened wide as it drew close. A fourth tentacle reached for her neck.

And then Zin realized where she was. With her free hand, she reached desperately for the bumpy surface of the pool. She spoke the words of magic in her mind.

The pool lit up white as dozens of moss covered oysters opened, exposing the shimmering pearls they held within. For a single moment in time, the bakemono's irises contracted in fear, then the pearl bed exploded with the power of Zin's magic. The bakemono was quickly annihilated, rent into less than dust as thousands of pinpricks of pure white magic lanced through its being. The purity of the Akasha consumed the creature, sending its monstrous soul screaming back to Jigoku. The tentacles that bound Zin withered and vanished. When the light faded once more, the water was a clear green, washed clean of Nitobe's blood.

Zin smiled in satisfaction and swam deeper into the pool. The magic of the Akasha was strong here, in the pearl beds of the naga. She could feel the spirits of the Qamar, the Shashakar, and all the others waiting for her below. She swam deeper into the pool to meet them.

Nitobe sighed as he sat down at the edge of the pool, staring at the smoking bits of dead flesh scattered about the edge of the water. He drew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, shaking his head in irritation. How could she have eluded him so? A mere girl? He had never been so humiliated. He could feel the power of the Akasha pulsing in the water below him. He kneeled at the water's edge and poked a tentative finger through the surface. The water suddenly glowed a bright green once more and Nitobe drew back his hand with a sharp intake of breath. Zin had awakened the power of the Akasha pearl beds. Even he, the Dark Oracle of Water, could not approach a place so pure.

But water was water, and Nitobe's heightened awareness could still sense the pool's depths. The pearl bed was fed by a small stream, too small for a person to hide in. When Zin surfaced again, she would have to surface here.

And Nitobe planned to be prepared for Zin's return.

I am Yashin, I am Ambition.

The flames of the pyre burn with ecstasy. With the fervent greed that only fire can possess, they consume the body of the fallen Emperor, the man the world once knew as Yoritomo Kenjin. Only the man's truest supporters are allowed at the funeral, and thus the funeral is a small one.

Outside the palace, the sound of thunder roars. The armies of the undead press their advantage, knowing full well how weak the Empire has become without its charismatic leader.

And I have found a new wielder, if an uncertain one. The stocky man's pale green eyes stare down at me as if I were a coiled serpent. He is Kitsune Kama, the Jade Champion. For three days he has carried me, since he took the head of Doji Chomei and spilled the Crane's corpse into Golden Sun Bay for the fishes to feed. His magic has given him knowledge of my true power, and yet he carries me. I laugh at his foolishness.

"So what now, Yoritomo Hideki?" the Ikoma asks. The old historian watches the young prince's eyes expectantly.

"Will you take up the mantle of your father?" Bayushi Yamato hisses, his tortured voice a savage whisper. "Will you name yourself Emperor and continue this hopeless war, or will you flee to the safety of your islands?" The withered Scorpion limps back and forth across the battlements of the palace, the terrible wounds inflicted upon him by Kyoso no Oni not sapping his energy in the least. He no longer wears his mask, has not worn it since Yoritomo Kenjin took the throne on that day so long ago.

Hideki closes his eyes. The young bushi's face is stained with soot and streaked with tears. His hands clutch a leather-bound book, his father's book, the kanji of the five rings inscribed in gold upon its cover. Hideki is not a wise man like his father, and he knows it. Hideki is a warrior, a killer, not a man suited to command. He knows it. Hideki is no Emperor. He knows it. He will step down, and all of Rokugan will crumble to the power of the Oni Lord.

Hideki opens his eyes, meeting the odd, burned visage of the Scorpion. "I have never backed down from anything in my life," the young man says bluntly. "I will kill the Oni Lord, or I will die trying. I will destroy Rokugan myself before I allow the Shadowlands to consume us."

"You may have to," the Scorpion chuckles to himself. "You may have to."

More thunder erupts outside the palace. Hideki's eyes narrow.

"I'm ready to fight, Yoritomo-sama!" the young ronin, Nariaki exclaims. In the last few years the loyalty he displayed for the Osamu line has multiplied a thousand fold under the command of Kenjin and his line. The ronin is known for his dog-like loyalty to the Yoritomo, and the loyalty of those that follow him. Over a dozen assassination attempts in the first year were averted by the ceaseless vigilance of the young man. Many whisper that without Nariaki, there would be no Yoritomo, and no Empire.

"There is no fight here today," Hideki says, his hands tightening on the journal. "Otosan Uchi will burn today. We can do nothing but evacuate, and fight another day."

"But Otosan Uchi has never fallen!" Ikoma Genju says quickly. The young herald looks flustered, his face as pale as his dyed hair.

"We both know that is not true, Genju," Yoritomo Hideki says with a small smile. "You, of the Ikoma, remember more of our history than most. You did your best to protect our past, even when the libraries were burned."

Genju nods quietly. He has studied in the Ikoma Libraries. He remembers White Stag. He remembers the War in the Heavens. He remembers the Wrath of Beyond. He knows that Otosan Uchi has fallen many times, and has always returned. Only the name is important. Only the tradition is important. As long as the Emperor lives, there will always be an Otosan Uchi.

"As you once protected the past, Ikoma, will you protect our future?" Hideki asks, an odd, unreadable look in his eyes.

"I do not understand, Yoritomo-sama," the young herald replied. "Our future?"

"Take this," Hideki says, handing him the journal he holds. "A copy of my father's journal. It will be needed one day, but nothing I or my descendants can do will protect it. Take it. Read it. Hide it and hide yourself. Do you realize what I am asking, Ikoma Genju?"

The Lion nods gravely as he accepts the journal. "Yes, my Emperor," he says. He reaches up and removes the mantle that hangs about his neck, removes the mon of the Lion Clan and the Ikoma family from his shoulders. The scrap of cloth flutters away upon the breeze, forever.

"Begin the evacuation, Nariaki," Hideki says to the ronin, who quickly bows and darts away. "The rest of you, listen to me. I will be Emperor, but I will not be the Emperor my father was. Under my rule, I promise you will bleed. I promise you will die. But I promise you will never cower before the power of Akuma again. What say you all to this?"

The battlements are quiet now except for the crackle of the pyre's flame. Ikoma Genju, Bayushi Yamato, Kitsune Kama, all of them look upon their new Emperor, some with respect, some with fear.

All of them bow.

"You have the promise of a Scorpion," Yamato says, rising with a dark chuckle. The ever-present Enforcer in Yamato's shadow rises as well, nodding to Hideki with respect. It is more acknowledgment than Yamato's dark wraith of a bodyguard has ever given any man.

Hideki's eyes find Kama. His sharp eyes have already noticed the spell I weave upon the Fox. "You hesitated," he said. "I will not have a man under my command who is anything but certain. Why did you hesitate, Kama?"

The shugenja's eyes suddenly widen. I curse in fury. He realized the truth quicker than most; I have forgotten that the Fox bear the blood of the spirit world. I did not weave my magic strongly enough, quickly enough, upon the shugenja's mind. He draws me from his belt, still within the scabbard, and throws me to the ground in anger.

"Doji Chomei's sword!" the shugenja snarls. "It is cursed! It seeks to sap my will! Already it seeks to turn me against you as it did Chomei."

Hideki picks me up carefully and draws me from my scabbard, gazing into my razor blade with dead eyes. I reach out and brush his soul with my power. I feel the violence that wells within him, and I know that his bloodline is doomed.

"In the name of my father," Hideki says. He turns toward the stone battlements of the palace. He raises me high and brings my blade down upon the cold granite.

Pain courses through my numbed existence as my steel body shatters into a thousand pieces. Some are so small, they drift upon the wind forever. Some are hurtled over the side of the castle. My hilt is later tossed into the bay as Hideki flees the Imperial City.

It does not matter. In time, all the pieces will be found.

And though Yoritomo II no longer holds me, he will always carry a part of me with him.

The young Crane leaned back heavily against the brick wall, rubbing her eyes with two fingers. Where had that vision come from? What had that been about? She sensed snippets of it still, the Yoritomo Emperors, the sword, Doji Chomei. What had it all meant? It didn't make any sense. How could Ambition have been shattered? The sword had been whole when she first saw it in the museum, with no mention of its destruction. She remembered then the flaw she had noticed once, the crack that made the sword look as if it had been broken. Still, that did not explain who would have repaired the bloodsword, how a nemuranai of such power could be repaired, and why such a dangerous artifact would have been featured openly in an Imperial Museum.

And where had the vision come from? She could feel a pulling upon her soul, a tugging toward the direction of the Diamond Palace. Though she hadn't held the blade for long, could it still have some sort of connection to her? What could it still want from her? It had already taken everything.

And if the blade still existed, who could be wielding it now?

Kamiko's heart froze in her chest as she realized the answer. She had sensed Ambition's hand guiding her father during the failed coup. Munashi had somehow disguised Ambition as Shukujo, the Ancestral Sword of the Crane. After Meda and Yoritomo VI fell, Kameru had been the one to take up her father's sword. If Kameru held Ambition now, if the blade was twisting his soul as it had her father's, then it didn't matter what she did here at Dojicorp tonight. Asahina Munashi had already won. She could hear the old priest's laughter. If Kameru had Yashin now, all of Rokugan was doomed.

"Kamiko?" Daidoji Yoshio asked, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not," Kamiko said. "You ever wake up from a dream into a nightmare?"

"What?" Yoshio replied, his big head pivoting awkwardly on his thin neck.

"There's the signal," Daidoji Iku said, pointing up at the green light above them. "Ketsuen is in position." The soldier took a large flashlight from his belt and flashed it back up at the Crabs, quickly switching it off once more so it wouldn't be disabled by a Locust pulse.

"So what do we do?" Daidoji Chiyo asked, looking at Kamiko uncertainly. "Are we going through with this?"

The other three soldiers turned toward her expectantly. The Daidoji refugees had come to look upon Kamiko as their leader after their escape from the Diamond Palace and subsequent salvation among the ranks of Toturi's Army. When she had told them the truth about their mission an hour ago, she had seen that loyalty being tested in their eyes. She was asking them to sneak into their own home, quite possibly to be called to fight their own friends and kin, on a mission to kill a man that they had once respected as much as their daimyo. Whether they succeeded or failed they would be viewed as traitors by their own clan.

Still, they followed her. They were soldiers. They needed a leader. Without Eien, she was it. They would walk into Jigoku if she commanded it, but they could only be as confident about their mission as she was.

Another time for mysteries. Right now, they needed decisive leadership. Kamiko pushed the visions away, standing straight and tall. "Let's get ready," she said. "Hisae, are you ready to go back underground?"

"I dunno," the big man laughed. "I still have bad dreams after the last time. Will you hold my hand, Kamiko-sama?"

Kamiko narrowed her eyes. "No," she said with a coy smile. "But I can arrange for Iku to."

Iku held out one hand with a broad smile. Hisae sneered in revulsion. The soldiers laughed, the moment of tension broken. Hisae produced a short crowbar from his web belt and pried aside the manhole cover at their feet. Unshouldering his rifle and switching on the flashlight just under the barrel, the large man hopped down through the opening. After several minutes, he whistled the clear signal to the others. They quickly filed down after him.

The tunnels here were newer than the ones beneath the Diamond Palace. All of the construction near Dojicorp was relatively new, though the construction still bore the Rokugani penchant for elaborate twists, turns, and tangents. Luckily, they were close to their destination. Even more fortunate, Daidoji Iku had often been assigned to tunnel patrol when he had served under Eien. He knew these passageways well and knew how best to avoid the guards. The tunnels were neat and tidy here, or as neat as a sewer tunnel could be expected to be, at any rate. A stream of dark water flowed between catwalks on either side. A line of lights mounted in the ceiling stretched off in either direction, all dark now from the Locust pulses.

Above them gunfire, explosions, and various other sounds of chaos and destruction suddenly erupted. Dust sifted down from the ceiling of the tunnel and the ground vibrated as if from a minor earthquake.

Kamiko glanced up and rose one eyebrow. "I guess that means Yasu's in position," she said.

"What in Jigoku are they doing up there?" Hisae whispered.

"Providing a distraction," Kamiko replied. "Let's just keep moving before he falls through the street on top of us."

The Daidoji nodded and fell into line once more. They doused the lights on their flashlights; if another Locust pulse came they would be deactivated anyway. The five Cranes donned greenish tinted goggles from their web belts, passive tetsukami night sights that would allow them some limited amount of vision even in complete darkness. Kamiko gestured to the others, signaling a cease in verbal communication until further notice. Iku darted off ahead of the others, taking the point and carefully peering around the intersection just ahead for guards. When he saw none, he motioned for them to follow. For several minutes they proceeded this way while the sounds of Ketsuen's rage echoed above them.

Finally, a resounding crunch of metal and stone sounded far above them, and then all further sounds of combat stopped. The Cranes glanced at one another nervously, wondering what that might portend for their Crab allies. Kamiko gestured and they all kept moving.

A few minutes later, Iku dropped into a crouch behind a corner, signaling sharply for the others to hold their ground. After a moment, he glanced back at Kamiko and pointed to her, signaling for her to join him. She quietly moved forward, crouching down as she walked. She dropped down beside Iku and peered around the wall where she indicated. Her eyes widened when she saw what waited for them.

A large security door, much like the ribbed metal doors found in a parking garage, separated the far wall. This was their goal, the subterranean entrance to Dojicorp that the guards used. However, the spectacle beside it was entirely unexpected. Sitting with its back to the wall beside the door was a massive warrior of silver and gold. Its armor was dented and scorched. The cloak of metallic feathers that spread from his back was tattered. The warrior was enormous, nearly double the height of Hisae, the largest of the soldiers. It simply sat where it was, waiting, clutching the smoking wound upon its left arm.

Iku looked at Kamiko, the question in his eyes apparent. Kamiko merely shook her head. She had no more idea what the thing was than he did. One thing was for certain, they weren't going to get into the building past it, not without knowing what it was capable of. Kamiko wracked her brain for a plan, some way to draw the thing away without risking the lives of her men.

As it turned out, the solution presented itself to her. The door to the Dojicorp Building opened with a metal grind. A team of five white coated technicians stepped out into the tunnel. They surrounded the metal warrior, surveying the damage to its limbs and armor, noting down their findings on the clipboards they carried. One seemed vaguely familiar to Kamiko, one of Munashi's friends. Her eyes narrowed. Any friend of Munashi's was certainly someone to be wary of.

Munashi's technician seemed to command the others, directing them to note down the areas of greatest damage. A few of them produced tools from their belts and pockets, beginning to prod at the damage to the warrior's arm. After a few moments of this, he stepped forward and reached to either side of the warrior's head, working his fingers beneath some unseen handles. After a sudden hissing release of pressure, the warrior's helm was pulled aside.

Iku's eyes widened in shock. Kamiko was hardly able to prevent herself from cursing out loud.

The man inside the armor was Daidoji Eien.

"Lord Yoritomo," Tsuruchi Shinden said, bowing smartly to the Emperor with a click of his boots.

Kameru and Ryosei were still in the Emperor's study, though several dozen Wasp and Mantis guardsmen had joined them since the blackout. Kameru strode forward to meet Shinden and watched the man quietly for a moment before he realized the guardsman was waiting for acknowledgment. Kameru coughed nervously. He still wasn't used to the intricacies of being an Emperor. "Report," he said.

"We are prepared to leave, my lord," Shinden said. "We should go at once. The Locust riot gangs are swiftly approaching the Palace as we speak." Kameru nodded and turned to his sister. "Ryosei," he said. "Are you ready to go?"

"I guess so," she said, clearly frightened. "Are you sure this will be safe?"

"I'll be with you," Kameru said. "Nothing will happen to you."

"Excuse me, my lord, but I don't think that would be for the best," Shinden said.

Kameru looked at the Captain of the Guard, suspicion clear upon his face. "Mind explaining why?" he asked.

Shinden nodded. "For all intents and purposes, Ryosei is the heir to the Diamond Throne," the Wasp replied. "If something should happen to you, my lord, she is the only one with a clear claim. It would be safer if the two of you were kept apart. The Imperial Line must be protected."

"What?" Kameru shouted, angry. "What are you talking about? I can't abandon her!

"No, it's all right, Kameru," Ryosei said. She put a hand on her brother's shoulder and managed a smile. "What Shinden says makes sense. Rokugan can't afford to be without an Emperor right now. We're too much of a target together. We have to split up."

"Where will you go?" he asked. "Where would you be safe?"

"I'll go find the Agasha," she said. "Hopefully, they'll let me find the Factory again."

"Shinden," Kameru said, turning to the Wasp again. "Who do you trust, more than any of your other men?"

"Daikua Kita," he said without hesitation. "She was the one I sent with Jack to find the temple." A young bushi stepped forward at Shinden's side. Kameru recognized her; she had been the one who had handed him his father's sword at the coronation.

"Go with my sister," Kameru said. "Along with anyone else you trust with my sister's life."

"Yes, my lord," she said. She opened her mouth again, uncertain, as if she were about to say something.

"My lord," Shinden said quickly. "We must hurry. We need to evacuate you as soon as possible."

Kameru nodded. He turned to his sister and embraced her a final time. "Be brave, 'Sei," he said. "Father would have wanted you to be brave."

"The same goes for you," she said. She smiled a bit. "Come back alive, Kam. I want to be Emperor even less than you do."

"I promise," he said, grinning. Kameru turned to join the dozen Imperial Guardsmen who waited for him. He realized he still held Yoritomo Kenjin's journal. It was too late to return it to the desk. Shinden was a consummate professional; so desperate to evacuate his Emperor that Kameru thought the man might knock him out and drag him out of the Palace if there was another second of delay. He tucked the ancient book into the pocket of his jacket as it was placed over his shoulders.

He prayed to Osano-wo that his sister would be safe. He prayed that they would all be safe.

"Saigo."

...

"Saigo..."

....

"Hey, Saigo!" The huge ronin clapped his hands noisily in Saigo's ear. Isawa Saigo glanced up from his notebook with a start, blinking in surprise.

"Mikio?" the prophet said, looking around blankly. "What did you do that for?"

"I called you three times," Mikio replied. "You blanked out on me over there. You're supposed to be keeping track of communications." The big ronin grumbled to himself, turning the wheel sharply as the Crescent Moon banked around the corner of a building. Through the monitor screens before them, they could see the city streets. A few people stared up blankly at the gigantic alien vehicle.

Saigo looked down at the panel before him. "There's nothing, Mikio," he said. "Everything's knocked out anyway. What am I supposed to be listening to?"

"I dunno," the ronin shrugged. "Trouble, I guess."

"What kind of trouble?" Saigo retorted. "The only trouble we've run into so far was that crazy old man on the rooftop."

"Yeah," Mikio said, nodding. "That guy was a pretty good shot. I think he took out one of the searchlights. I still think we should go back and see what he was doing."

"Let it go, Mikio," Ginawa said, striding into the cockpit and looking over the monitor screens. "Remember, despite whatever cosmetic changes you've made, this is still a Senpet vehicle. We can only expect to meet a bit of fear and distrust."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mikio said. He continued steering the vehicle, staring at the monitor screens in brooding silence.

Ginawa rose an eyebrow as he settled into the seat beside the mechanic. "Is there some kind of problem, Mikio?" he asked.

"Just wondering if we could go after the damned Locusts yet," he said with a shrug. "We've been tooling around the city for two hours now. I feel like a tourist."

"Necessity," Ginawa replied. "You know better than to go into battle with an untested weapon, Mikio. We haven't had an opportunity to take the Moon out on a real test run yet. We need to see if there are any problems with her before we go up against the Locust."

"The Palace will be a crater by the time we get there," Mikio said.

"Hiroru will take care of the Emperor," Ginawa said. "Have faith in him."

"Trust the spandex ninja-boy. Yeah, that's the most stable thing you've said all day, Ginawa. My confidence is restored." Mikio shook his head ruefully, turning the Moon into another sharp turn that nearly made Saigo drop his notebook.

"Dairya trusts Hiroru, that's enough for me," Ginawa said.

"If you say so, boss," Mikio said noncommittally.

"I say so," Ginawa replied. Inwardly, Ginawa wondered if he really believed that. He had thought he knew Dairya. He'd trusted the man, depended upon him. If it hadn't been for Dairya, he'd still be wandering the streets of Little Jigoku alone, penniless, without purpose. Now, with all of Dairya's tales of kolat and conspiracies, he didn't know what to think. Why had Dairya really formed Toturi's Army? What was their purpose?

"I'm going to check on the others," Ginawa said with a tired sigh. He rose from his seat and turned toward the cabin exit. "Give the Moon one more round around the harbor, then we'll go find out what the Locust are up to."

The doors of the cabin closed with a hiss behind Ginawa. Mikio glanced over at the prophet, a wicked grin on his face. "Hey," the mechanic said. "You want to fly the Moon, kid?"

"Me?" Saigo said, looking back at Ginawa in surprise.

"I'm not going into combat without a co-pilot," Mikio replied. "You're already sitting in the chair."

"Oh, well, yeah, except I have no idea what the hell I'm doing," Saigo replied. "I just came up here to sit because I was getting airsick in the personnel compartment."

"Hey, don't sweat it, kid," Mikio laughed. "You'll do fine. You're a shugenja, right?"

"Technically," he said. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"Tetsukami backup controls," Mikio replied. "The Senpet haven't gone in for the whole tetsukami race like you Phoenix have, but they've made a few innovations here and there that might surprise you. Their sahir, you know, those are kind of like their shugenja, have tetsukami interfaces in all Senpet vehicles that allow them to take control in case of emergency."

"But I can't fly a Scarab," Saigo replied, folding his notebook closed and replacing his pen in his pocket. "I can't even fly a gyrocopter. I tried once. I broke my ankle and gave myself a concussion."

"You don't have to pilot it," Mikio said. "It's magic. Just grab the controls and concentrate. Tokei tried it out once already. He said it was really user friendly. Give it a try."

Saigo looked at the large, green-handled wheel in front of him. The ranks of buttons, switches and gauges beside him. He tentatively reached out and took the grips in either hand and glanced at Mikio nervously.

"One warning. Scratch the paint job and you're walking home," Mikio said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms.

Saigo swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and concentrated. He didn't expect anything to happen, really. After all, he wasn't really a very good shugenja. Except for the rare burst of inspiration, mostly in the form of his prophecies, magic didn't come very easily for him.

The effect was immediate. Suddenly, he could feel the rush of wind over his wings. He could feel the fuel burning in his engines. He could feel the power of the missile pods crouching just within his hull. He could see the streets below, his piercing searchlights cutting through the darkness. One of them was slightly cracked by the shotgun shell the old man had fired earlier. He wasn't just flying the Crescent Moon. He was the Crescent Moon. He flexed his wings experimentally and took a dip toward the street, bringing himself back up once more swiftly and veering to the right, just between two buildings. He flew straight up, passing through the tiers of highways and buildings, cutting over the skyline of the city. He wheeled toward the harbor, engaging his engines with a burst of speed that thrilled him to the core of his being. He was flying. He was quick, powerful, invincible. He could do anything.

Mikio slapped him.

"Ow!" Saigo said, suddenly slipping back into reality. He blinked and rubbed his face. "What did you do that for?"

"Snapping you back to the real world, ace," Mikio said, staring fiercely at the controls before him. "You have any idea where you've taken us?"

A loud explosion roared outside. "Um, no," Saigo said, glancing up at the screens. "Where?"

Another thunderous roar sounded off of the hull. "Oh," Saigo said, smiling apologetically as he looked up at the screens. The moon was flying over the harbor. Two large destroyers were following in pursuit, firing their surface to air cannons at the Senpet vehicle.

"What the hell's going on in here?" Ginawa demanded, charging into the cabin. "Are you trying to kill us, Mikio? Who's firing at us?" The old ronin quickly strapped himself into the seat beside the mechanic.

"Cap'n Saigo decided to have us pay a little visit to the Mantis fleet," Mikio said tersely, turning sharply to one side to avoid a volley of missiles. "The Locust pulse didn't extend this far into the bay. I don't think they're happy to see a Scarab on their turf."

"Can't you radio them or something?" Saigo asked quickly. "Let them know who you are?"

"Good idea, Saigo," Mikio said. A clatter of machinegun fire echoed against the hull. "Hey, guys? Yeah, we aren't really Senpet. I know we look like we're invading, but really we're just a bunch of ronin that rebuilt a Senpet hovercraft in our garage and thought it would be a good idea to go for a joyride out in the harbor. I'm sure they'll understand."

"Mikio, this no time for levity," Ginawa said stiffly. "Can you outrun them?"

"Sure," Mikio said. "But trying to outrun them and dodge all the ordinance they're throwing at us at the same time will be tricky. Part that really bothers me is, the firepower in this Scarab could probably send one of those destroyers to the bottom of Golden Sun with no problem and probably the other one, too. They should be calling for backup or something before they start something like this."

"Mikio," Ginawa said carefully. "Please don't sink the Mantis navy."

"I'll try, boss, but they're not making it easy." The Moon shuddered as one of the Mantis shells hit home, deflecting off of the heavy armor but sending the ship plummeting in a dead dive toward the harbor. The roar of the engines suddenly went dead.

"Oh, man!" Mikio shouted. "Everybody take a deep breath!"

And suddenly the Crescent Moon's engines flared to life. Turning upward at the last moment with a burst of speed, it narrowly missed the waves and took to the sky once more. A final burst of bullets streaked toward it from the Destroyers and the Moon did a neat flip, easily avoiding the fire and speeding off back into the safety of the city once more. Making a sharp turn between two buildings, the Scarab stopped immediately, hovering silently in the darkness of a large vacant lot.

Saigo sat back from the controls, gasping for breath. "You're right, Mikio," he said. "It is pretty user friendly."

Mikio and Ginawa stared at Saigo in shock.

"Okay, well, I guess we've proven that it still flies," Mikio said quietly. "Can we go take care of the Locusts now?"

"In a minute," Ginawa said, slowly rising from the seat. "I think I'm going to go in the back and try to make my heart start beating again."

"Zin," the voice called, and the world was filled with triumph.

"Zin!" echoed another.

"Zin?" replied a third. A chorus of countless more followed, their dim awareness emerging from the end of a long slumber.

Zin smiled as she swam deeper into the pool. She could not see her brothers and sisters. The magic of the Cobras would be concealing them in their slumber, even to her. She could hear their voices, however, and she knew they were close by. She dove ever deeper into the seemingly fathomless pool. Countless oysters mounted upon the walls about her opened as she past, lighting her path with the eerie green radiance of the magical pearls that they carried.

And still she swam. She swam seemingly to the center of the earth itself. Around her, she saw markings on the ancient stones. Once, before the race of man had come, this had been dry land. This had been a great naga city, perhaps the greatest of them all. Here, the Qa'tol, the greatest of all the naga, had held benevolent domain under his people, uniting them into one race and one mind with his wisdom. In this city, the five bloodlines of her people had been born. In this city, the Akasha had begun.

But it was not her Akasha. Zin's mind clouded. They were not her bloodlines. She was not Asp or Constrictor or Greensnake or Cobra or Chameleon. She was a human, not born to these creatures. For the first time, she felt the touch of the Akasha on her mind and felt how truly strange and alien it was. A fathomless pit of memories and voices. An endless coil of souls upon souls, ever regenerating themselves, ever intertwining and combining. For the first time since arriving in the Shinomen, she was afraid. Asako Nitobe and the shiyokai were right. She was an outsider, and she would always be one. Zin was afraid.

And then she found herself sitting on a wide plain. The plain was featureless, dark, and endless. Two great spheres lit the sky above her, one bright, one pale. She was alone.

"No, not alone," the voices said to her. "Never alone."

"I can't do this," Zin said, hugging her arms to herself and shivering. "I'm not one of you. I'll never be one of you."

And then they were there with her. Two figures, one large and powerful, his coils heaping behind him in a great pile. The Shahadet. The other was small and hunched and for a moment something in its eyes reminded her of Kashrak. A large hood folded behind its reptilian face, a cobra's hood. The Shashakar, Kashrak's father. Knowledge of one's heritage was unusual among the naga, but Kashrak was an unusual sort of naga. Shahadet and Shashakar nodded to her in greeting.

"Do not fear us, Zin," the Shahadet said. "We mean you no harm. We have never meant you any harm."

"Destiny's path is often rugged," the Shashakar added. "Perhaps you would not have chosen this path had you the choice, but perhaps it may yet lead you go glory."

Zin shook her head. "I don't want glory. I don't want any of this. I just want my life back. I want to know who I am."

"Memories come and go, Zin," the Shahadet said. "But we are who we make ourselves. The Akasha cannot change who you are. The Kashrak cannot change who you are. Nitobe and the shiyokai cannot change who you are."

"Look at me!" Zin said. "I'm not a human! I'm not a naga! What am I?"

"You are the Zin," the Shashakar replied. "Like every other creature that lives, you are unique. You cannot be defined. You are you, and that is that. Now, the time has come for you to choose. Will you save our people as we once saved you?"

Zin paused her eyes on the ground. Fear gripped her, of what she wasn't certain. Of everything. What would become of her now? What had she become? If she accepted the naga's quest, would she even be able to complete it or would she fail them as she failed the Crab so long ago?

A third figure appeared among them, larger than the others. She was tall, with legs like a human's. Her golden eyes shone with power. The Qamar, Kashrak's mother. Zin glanced up at the creature, her eyes full of doubt.

"The choice has ever been yours, Zin," the Qamar said. "You are one of us now. We will support you. But know this; the Dark Oracle of Water awaits you on the surface. Return, and you may die. Stay here with us and be safe, but he will certainly kill Szash and Iuchi Kenyu and Sumi."

"Sumi?" Zin replied, surprised. "She's here?"

The Qamar nodded. "You are kindred with the Phoenix," the naga replied. "Your paths are more similar than you imagine, and your destinies are intertwined."

"But what can I do?" Sumi asked. "I'm so confused. In Otosan Uchi, it was all so clear, but it seems like the closer I come to finishing this the further away it gets. My head is so clouded now. My memories are like ghosts. I can barely see them, and then they flit away. Am I a naga or am I a human?"

"You must decide that for yourself," the Qamar said. "Should you decide to stay and slumber with us, you will be welcome in the short time we have left. However, I beg you to save us. You are our final hope, our only hope. Only you can wield the Akasha Blades."

"Akasha Blades?" Zin replied, confused.

The Qamar nodded. Suddenly, she held a large knife in either hand. The blades were strange, long and triangular, stabbing weapons that extended over the wielders knuckles rather than from a vertical handle. Both were over a foot long and looked razor sharp. One was bright white, the other inky black. Both seemed to be carved somehow of pure pearl, though no oyster that ever lived could ever possibly make pearls large enough to cut those weapons.

"The Akasha is a living system, and like all living systems it fights to protect itself when outside forces seek to harm it," the Qamar said. "The blades are a product of the pearl beds. Over one hundred years, our magic has struggled to produce these weapons, the only thing that can cure the Akasha's Wound. They have remained here until the Kashrak could be found, until a worthy bearer arose. You must be the vector of that cure, Zin. Only a true naga can wield the blades' magic."

Zin looked troubled at that, but said nothing.

The Qamar smiled with encouragement, then continued. "The Blade of the Pale Eye," she said, holding up the black blade. "The Blade of the Bright Eye," she said, holding up the white blade. "The Blade of The Pale will sever its victim from the power of the Dark One. To use it against Kashrak will cast the Foul from his being. His taint will be removed, never to plague our people again. The Blade of the Bright Eye will sever its victim from the Akasha forever. Kill Kashrak with it and he will be removed from the Akasha. His madness and disease will plague us nevermore. You must use both blades, Zin, to fully extinguish the Kashrak's evil." The Qamar spun the knives in both hands, so that the blades lay along her forearms. She offered the blades to Zin, handle first.

Zin reached out for the weapons, but hesitated. "I can't," she said. "I don't know if I'm strong enough. I couldn't beat the pennaggolans without Kenyu. Nitobe would have killed me if I hadn't stumbled onto the pearl beds. I'm not worthy."

"Then make yourself worthy," the Qamar said, her voice slightly stern. "Zin, no one is born a hero. Circumstances demand that we rise to the occasion or be destroyed. This is your chance, Zin. Save our people. Save yourself. End the circle of pain and madness and perhaps one day you will have the luxury to discover who you truly are. For now, take the blades and kill the Kashrak before it is too late for us all."

Zin met the Qamar's golden eyes with her own, and nodded. She took the blades with as much confidence as she could muster. To her, it didn't seem much, she even fumbled with the dark blade as she took it, but it was enough. The blades were cold and heavy. She sensed some sort of magic deep within them, but it was dormant. They didn't seem as powerful as the Qamar had implied. She stared into the blades' surfaces, trying to understand their power and the strange destiny they shared with her.

When she looked up once more, she was alone on the great plain.

"I'm alone," she said. "They left me."

"Don't blame them for that, they're very sick," said a voice. "They did the best they could."

Zin whirled about, holding the blades ready, one high one low. She found she wielded them as if she had held them all her life. A single man stood before her, dressed in ancient green samurai armor. A crooked smile spread across his elegant features.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"My human name is Mirumoto Daini," the man replied. "But the Akasha knows me as the Daini."

"A human?" she said, shocked. "Here?"

"Shocked?" he asked mildly. "Or disappointed that you weren't the first? I think you've forgotten something about the Akasha, or maybe you just don't remember. No one's forced to be part of this. It's not a disease. It's a family. Anyone with a soul open enough can become a part of the Akasha. I did. You did. You look on it like a curse, but it's not. Stop fighting what you are and draw strength from it."

"I don't know if I can do that," Zin said. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Daini sighed. "You're strong enough, Zin. Believe me. I've been here for a long time, Zin, and I've forward to meeting you again. Yakamo and I watched you very carefully while you were with us."

"Yakamo?" Zin replied.

"Hida Yakamo," Daini replied. "You know, the Crab Thunder? Fellow with a big jade hand? Was knocked out on the Day of Thunder by Fu Leng himself?" Daini made small slapping motions in the air. "Also part of the Akasha. Seldom noted historical fact."

"Fortunes," Zin said.

Daini nodded. "It was a case very much like yours. He died before his time and the naga felt responsible, so they stepped in to save him. He was very interested in your progress until he went on to be reborn eighteen years ago."

"Reborn as a naga?" she asked.

"No, human," Daini replied. "The naga do not have a monopoly on reincarnation, just ask the Phoenix. Yakamo needed to be reborn so he could be there on the Day of Thunder and all that. It's unfortunate that Yasu no longer has his connection to the Akasha, but it happens. Before he left, he gave me a message for you, Zin."

"Yes?" she asked.

"He wished you good luck," Daini replied. "And he said to tell you that you are not alone. That you're never alone." The dark, illusionary world of the Akasha began to fade. Zin could see the jagged rocks and green light of the water begin to reappear around her.

Zin nodded, her shoulders straightening in confidence. "Thank you, Daini," she said.

"Not a problem," Daini replied, his form beginning to grow transparent. "Not much time left for conversation. I suppose I shall see you in the next life, Zin." Daini vanished.

"I look forward to it," Zin answered. She still held the large knives in her hands. That much had been real.

Armed with the Akasha's weapons, armed with new confidence, Zin swam back towards the surface.

"Congratulations, Shinjo Rakki," Emperor Yoritomo VII said, pride beaming upon his face. "You're a hero to your clan, Rokugan, and the world. You've saved all of us."

Shinjo Rakki hefted the no-dachi over his shoulder and chuckled, hopping down off of the enormous severed head of the oni. "Shucks, it was nothing," he said. "Just doing my job."

"Oh, he's humble, too!" squealed a pretty teenage girl in the front row. "Shinjo Rakki, you're my hero!" The girl ran forward and hugged Rakki with both arms. Moments later, dozens more similarly screaming and smiling young girls also mobbed him.

"Ladies, ladies!" Rakki chuckled. "Really, I'm honored but I was trying to have a chat with the Emperor here."

"No, really, Rakki, it's okay," the Emperor said, looking wistfully at Rakki's admirers. "I guess I'll just go get some coffee or something and come back when you're done. Have fun, Rakki-sama."

"Well, if you say so, my lord," Rakki said. "Okay, girls, who's first?"

Something slapped him across the face. Rakki sat straight up and glanced around, confused. He was in a small room. Three men sat next to the bed he was laying on, looking at him expectantly. The small room was lit by candle light. In the distance, he could hear shouts and gunfire.

"Um, hi," he said, rubbing his face.

"Good bedside manner, Tokei," one of the men said. He was a tall, lean man wearing a dark black jumpsuit. He looked familiar.

"Sometimes the spirits demand a more direct approach," another man replied. Rakki recognized him as Kohei, the Asako he'd spoken to with Sachiko and had later dragged him from the streets.

"Good morning, Officer Rakki," the third man said with a forced smile. He was a thin, middle aged man wearing a clean, well-cut shirt and tie. "Well, Hatsu, Tokei, if you'll excuse me I have work to do tonight."

"Sure thing, Godaigo" the first man replied. Godaigo rose and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Hatsu?" Rakki said, suddenly sitting up with interest. "That's where I recognized you from. You're Kitsuki Hatsu! You're supposed to be dead."

The man nodded. "So I hear," he replied. "You were with Otaku Sachiko when the Locust took her."

"The Locust took her?" Rakki said, glancing around in surprise. "We have to help her!"

"See?" the old shugenja said with a sigh. "I told you he wouldn't be much help. He didn't see any more than I did."

Hatsu rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair. "There isn't anything else you can tell me, Tokei?" he asked.

"Tokei?" Rakki said. "I thought your name was Kohei, Asako."

The man shook his head. "Tokei," he said. "As in Morito Tokei. A shugenja who died on the second Day of Thunder. Member of Toturi's Army. Pleased to meet you."

"I knew it!" Rakki said, clapping and pointing to the old priest. "I knew you were full of it!" "Well, go Team Rakki," Tokei said dryly. "I stand in envy of your detective abilities. Why don't you call Shinjo Tower and have them come arrest me now? Oh, wait. The Locusts have knocked out city-wide communications. I guess they did that right after they beat you within an inch of your life and left you lying in the street."

"Oh," Rakki said. "Oh, yeah. Thanks for saving my life."

"Don't mention it."

"So what do we do now?" Hatsu asked. The Dragon stood and began pacing the room impatiently. "Last I knew, the police didn't have any leads on the location of the Locust Headquarters. What about the Army?"

Tokei shrugged. "We had a man in the Locust for a while, but they blindfolded him whenever they took him in and out. All he said about the place was that it was underground, they called it the Machine, and it always sounded like it was near some kind of big engine."

"Is he here now?" Hatsu asked.

"Toku?" Tokei shook his head. "Nope. He said he had family business."

Hatsu grumbled and paced some more. "And Yotogi destroyed her Dragon Sphere. So we have no leads. Absolutely no way of contacting her. No way of finding her in the least."

Suddenly the television in the small room crackled to life, casting the room in a blue light. The face of a man wearing a black mask and goggles appeared upon the screen, a large metallic sculpture resembling a Locust hanging behind him.

"Greetings, people of Rokugan," the man said. "I am Inago and I come to you with an ultimatum of my own..."

"What in Jigoku?" Rakki said.

Hatsu's eyes narrowed and he quickly ran out of the room.

"What got into him?" Tokei asked.

Rakki shrugged. "Dragons," he said. "Weird as they are in the stories." He turned back toward the television.

"I am the leader of a group of revolutionaries called the Locust Clan. I come to you to bring you a warning. The chaos, the destruction, the terror that surrounds you is nothing compared to what is to come. The Senpet Invasion was nothing to the havoc I have unleashed upon you, and the havoc to follow will make this night appear as a pleasant dream. Know you the name of my master, of he that will shake the foundations of this world and bring the vengeance of the shadows down upon you all. Know you the name of the Stormbreaker. Know you that the Third Day of Thunder is nigh. Tonight, the Champion of Jigoku walks abroad in Rokugan."

"Wow," Rakki said with a whistle. "Guess I should stock up on jade and canned goods or something."

"Or something," Tokei said.

"And know you this, Rokugan," Inago said. "You may destroy me. You may destroy the Locust Clan. But the Stormbreaker cannot be destroyed. Jigoku's power can never be extinguished. This is not a warning. It is a notification. Mankind's turn of good luck has run out. Your days are numbered. There is nothing you can do to halt the tide of darkness. Consider this message a public service. Cling to your loved ones. Forgive your friends and families for past sins. Drink deep from the well of life, people of Rokugan, for its waters grow shallow indeed."

The screen shut off with a crackle, returning to its formerly dead state.

"Come on," Hatsu said, poking his head back into the door and gesturing at the two men quickly.

Tokei and Rakki glanced at one another, then followed along behind. Both were somewhat confused and perplexed at the sudden urgency of Hatsu's voice, as well as his sudden disappearance during the broadcast. "Hatsu, there was a guy on the TV," Rakki said, jogging to walk alongside the Dragon. "He said he was-"

"Inago of the Locust Clan," Hatsu replied. "I know. I heard the whole thing."

"You heard it?" Rakki replied, surprised.

"I have very good hearing when I need it," Hatsu said. The Dragon turned and quickly headed down the stairs toward Shotai's Diner and the street.

"If you don't mind me asking, Hatsu," Tokei asked. "Where are we going?"

"To the Machine," Hatsu said.

"But I thought we didn't know where that was," Rakki replied.

"We do now," Hatsu replied.

"Dragons," Tokei sighed and followed along in Hatsu's path.

Kyo stood in the shadows of the KTSU building, shivering. The rain had drenched him, but he wasn't really cold. He was shivering because somehow, in some way, something had changed. When the darkness covered the city, something long dead had awakened in him. He had stepped outside of himself and seen what he was. He was afraid.

"Fool," Akeru hissed in the back of his mind. "Go in there. You know what you have to do."

"But we don't know who she talked to," he said out loud, pacing up and down the street. "We don't know what she said."

"It doesn't matter," Akeru said. "Kill all of them. Burn the building to the ground. Without their precious communications, they will be able to tell no one what they know until it is too late."

"Kill everyone?" Kyo exclaimed, glancing up at the towering KTSU building. Candles and flashlights dimly lit many of the windows. "There must be hundreds of people inside! You can't murder them all!" "Just a drop in the bucket," Akeru said. "They'll all be dead in two months anyway. The Stormbreaker cannot afford to be exposed yet. This is too critical a time. Kill them, Kyo, and be done with it."

"No," Kyo said. "I won't."

"You've picked a queer time to find free will, human," the oni snarled. "The pulse must have shorted out your tetsukansen."

"What?" Kyo said quickly.

He could feel the oni smile in the back of his mind. "As if you didn't know," it said. "Honorable daimyo of the Wasp, Captain of the Imperial Guard, noble and obedient soldier to the last. You thought your little rebellion was your own idea? Let me tell you something, Kyo. I've lived in your soul a short time, but it's been long enough to learn all I need to know. You've always been a pawn. A tool. A puppet to dance upon another's string. Your father. Your commanding officer. The Emperor. The Stormbreaker saw what a good puppet you were. That's why you were one of the first he chose."

"What are you saying?" Kyo nearly screamed. He was breathing quickly now, desperate, flailing his arms about as he paced. Two men making their way down the street quickly turned and ran in the other direction.

"Don't tell me you don't remember," the oni said. "It's so clear there in your memories. The day you first started to notice what a dark, terrible master your Yoritomo was. The day all the slights, all the insults, all the shortcomings of the others began to finally take their toll upon your formerly iron will. The day you first considered the path of darkness. Fifteen years ago, the day after you were called to Gekkoshinden."

The memory was suddenly fresh in his mind as the oni placed it for his consideration. Kyo stopped pacing, going over the events. "Gekkoshinden, a small temple owned by the Imperial family. There was a protest," he said. "A schism between the Karasu and Suzume monks over the Suzume's apparent commercialism."

"Seemed like a silly thing to argue over, didn't it?" the oni laughed. "A pathetic waste of time until the riot broke out. They decided it was your job to settle it, didn't they? You, the fresh, promising young Imperial Guardsman, future daimyo of the Wasp. Some might think a few monks having a fist-fight in a temple would be a waste of time for a trained warrior such as yourself, but a religious tiff on Imperial property suddenly becomes an Imperial tiff, doesn't it?"

"That's what he said," Kyo replied. He leaned back limply against a wall, remembering it all. "Yoritomo told the Captain to send his best men, a show of strength to settle the strife once and for all."

"And settle it you did, without violence or confrontation," the oni said. "It would have been quite a gold star for your career had anyone noticed or even cared. Turns out they didn't. Almost as if the entire thing was a waste of your time. Hardly worth remembering."

"I didn't remember," Kyo said. "Not until now."

"Well," the oni said. "That wasn't exactly your fault. The situation in that temple wasn't really the way you seem to remember it. By the time you got there, Munashi and his henchmen were waiting with the prototype implants. Every member of your squad was forcefully captured, incapacitated, and implanted. Most of them died during the first year. Seems that first batch of implants just didn't take."

"That didn't happen!" Kyo snapped. "I don't remember that! Gekkoshinden didn't happen that way?"

"What do you mean, Akeru?" the oni said, amused. "Still clinging to the false memories Munashi gave you? I must admit, they're very well done. The man's a true artist. The real memory is still here in this pit you call a brain, Kyo. It's buried, but it's here. Would you like to see it?"

Kyo screamed as images of blood and pain flashed through his head, memories of the painful operation, memories of his comrades being butchered and stitched back together before his eyes, memories of the mocking, one-eyed smile of the bastard Crane. By the time he collected himself, he was laying on the sidewalk in a fetal position, shaking uncontrollably.

"Dignified to the last, eh, Wasp?" Akeru asked.

"Get out of my head!" Kyo whimpered. "Stop making me do these things!"

"Don't fight me," the oni said. "Don't pretend you can win now. For fifteen years that implant has steered your actions but all of those thoughts were yours. All of the times you allowed the Emperor's enemies to escape were your doing. All of the omissions to your reports to allow your corrupted brethren to go free were your ideas. And all of the murders were done by your own hands. It was you who put that bullet in Ichiro Chiodo's head. It was you who killed his accomplice so the Dragon wouldn't find out the truth. It was you that invited an oni to share your soul. The tetsukansen never controlled you. It freed you to make the choices you really wanted to make."

"Leave me alone," Kyo said, his voice weak and broken.

"Ah, cut the strings and the puppet falls to the stage," Akeru said. "I hope this blackout ends soon, you're of little use to me in this condition. I suppose I'll have to drive for a while."

Kyo's back suddenly arched as the Wasp screamed in pain. Inky black darkness oozed from his eyes, mouth, and hands, swiftly covering his body and hardening into a black carapace. In moments, Tsuruchi Kyo was gone and Oni no Akeru had taken his place. The oni peered up at the KTSU Building curiously, considering his next move.

The Wasp had been right. He couldn't kill everyone inside.

Not by himself. Some of them would get away.

Taki-bi, Jimen, and Kaze were all dead. It would be years before they could take human form in Rokugan again. Mizu was gone, off on one of his curious little missions. The Stormbreaker was unreachable. One did not contact him, he contacted you. There was only one he could turn to, only one he could depend upon. The oni scrawled a little circle of darkness in the air and whispered into it.

"Oracle..." he said. "Your brother of the Void calls to you... Akeru calls to you..."

There was a brief pause, and then the oni felt a presence on the other end. It was a mortal presence, partially, but the creature on the other end of the summons was something more than mortal.

"Akeru," the man said. "It has been some time, oni."

"Ishak," the oni said. "The time has come for you to repay your debt to me."

"Indeed," the man replied. "I look forward to removing that burden from my shoulders. Tell me where and when. I shall bring whatever others I can find."

"Yes," Akeru said, looking up at the candle-lit windows of the news station. "Yes, bring all that you can find... There will be much to be done this night..."

The Shrine of Okanjin stood only blocks away from Golden Sun Studios. Though the temple wasn't as large or as lavishly decorated as many in Otosan Uchi, it was the closest thing the Kitsu family had to a home here. The order of sodan-senzo who made their homes in the city met frequently here. Some of them lived here. Statues of many of the prominent ancestors of the Lion and other heroes of the city stood about the shrine and inside, their eyes keeping constant watch over those within.

The Kitsu had found themselves better prepared for the blackout than most. In sharp contrast to the high-tech majesty of Golden Sun, the shrine had only rudimentary electrical systems, seldom used. The shugenja who used the facility to meditate and commune with the shiryo found that they preferred the lights of candles and paper lanterns. Plenty of food and dry provisions were stored within for those monks who chose to live in the dormitory at the rear of the shrine. Defense from looters and riots was not a question; few citizens in Otosan Uchi dared to risk the wrath of their ancestors. Those that considered risking the spirits' wrath thought again when they took note of the more corporeal threat of twenty heavily armed Lion samurai patrolling the shrine's perimeter. Though Matsu Gohei had his differences with the Kitsu family, he was not about to leave his fellow Lions without sufficient defense tonight.

The Shrine of Okanjin had weathered the Locust attack relatively unscathed. With this in mind, Kitsu Mizutoki, director of the shrine in Kitsu Ayano's absence, had declared the shrine a safe haven and refuge for all those who came in peace. Several dozen fearful refugees who were stranded outside their homes or fled their own neighborhood to escape the riots had found shelter within the shrine. The brown-robed priests of the Kitsu walked among the refugees now, distributing tea and small bowls of cooked rice.

A young Matsu samurai wove his way through the crowd, his eyes sharp and nervous. He searched the faces of the shugenja for several minutes, growing increasingly fretful until he finally recognized the one he was looking for, a small woman sitting in the shadow of a statue of Ikoma Genju. She was no longer a young girl, though her hair was still dark and her face held a youth that belied her years. Her hair fell down her back in many thin braids, woven with paper ribbons inscribed in the mystic kanji of the Lion sodan-senzo priests. She wore a simple ceremonial robe of golden brown, though the badge upon her left arm proclaimed her a magistrate. The woman sat with two children, telling them stories of the ancestors from an old scroll, her face calm despite the chaos outside.

The shugenja glanced up in concern when she noted the Matsu bushi hurrying toward her. She quickly rose to meet him, her movements smooth and graceful. "Kitsu Jurin?" the bushi said, bowing quickly to her.

"Yes," she replied. "Wait here, children." She began to walk back the way the Matsu had come. The bushi seemed upset; no sense in further frightening the children with whatever news he bore. "May I help you, Matsu-san?"

"I hope so," he said. "They said to speak to you, that you would vouch for their good behavior."

"What?" she replied, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Who? What are you talking about?"

The Matsu began to walk more quickly, leading Jurin toward the front doors of the temple. "Perhaps you should see for yourself," he replied.

Jurin nodded, though inward she was irritated. She had many refugees to tend to tonight, much work to do. She didn't appreciate being interrupted. As the Matsu opened the temple doors, however, her eyes widened in surprise. Four zokujin stood in the streets just outside of the temple. Their long arms dragged nearly to the street as they hunched, waiting. Their yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness. A dozen of Gohei's guard were standing with weapons ready, prepared in case the "rock goblins" should make any hostile moves. One of the zokujin rose one hand in greeting when it saw Jurin. The Lion bushi tensed, several of them raising their weapons.

"Oh, stop that," Jurin commanded. "These are the zokujin, our allies."

"They're not human," one of the Lions observed, glancing back and forth between Jurin and the zokujin.

"How keen of you to notice," Jurin said dryly. "Don't worry, the zokujin are more honorable than many humans you may chance to meet. I vouch for their behavior."

The Lions all immediately complied, lowering their weapons. Most of them immediately marched away, returning to their patrols. The zokujin quietly watched them go.

"Your soldiers are very well trained," Argcklt observed, nodding his frog-like head as he stepped onto the temple stairs. "They follow your commands well, Jurin-san."

Jurin chuckled quietly. "They're not my soldiers. They could care less about me," she said. "But I think Gohei threatened grave repercussions if they didn't listen to us. All of them either respect or fear him, usually both if they're intelligent. What brings you here tonight, Argcklt?"

"Am I no longer welcome here?" the zokujin asked. "I have come here every night." The zokujin had been visiting the temple for nearly a week now, ever since Jurin had seen him rescue Prince Kameru. Every day the shugenja and the zokujin had met to discuss their relative religions and philosophy. Though neither of them understood much more of the other's ways than they had before, they had swiftly become good friends.

"That's not what I meant," Jurin replied. "I'm just surprised to see you so far from your home. The city is dangerous tonight."

"My