Jack was in Otosan Uchi.

The first sight of the city astounded him. The buildings were so tall! He had heard stories, but he had never seen such tall buildings. He hadn't known what to expect, not really. On the island where he had been raised, everything was built low to the ground to protect against storms. The buildings here, on the other hand...

Well they seemed to go right up to heaven. That seemed to be a good omen.

The young monk smiled as he stared up at the glistening spires of Dojicorp, feeling the wind blow across his face. In the face of such beauty, he had a hard time believing there was as much evil in this place as his father had warned. Then again, he had believed the same thing before in his travels, and he had barely escaped with his life. Only the wits his mother's line had granted him were able to carry him clear of the khadi's clutches.

His wits, and one other advantage.

A screech carried through the air above him, and he rose one arm. A flutter of black feathers crashed clumsily into his arm, grasped roughly at his sleeve, and formed, somehow, into a rather ungainly black bird.

Jack laughed. "Hello, Karasu," he said with a grin. The crow cocked its head at him and stared with one black button eye. It was an unoriginal name, he knew, since "karasu" was merely Rokugani for "crow."

Strange of him, of all people to think of things that way. "Crow" was Amijdali for "karasu" if you asked anyone on the streets of Otosan Uchi. It was a simple fact of his upbringing. Half the time, he still thought like an Amijdal. He walked in both worlds. Even after what he had learned, both worlds weighed equally in his mind. Even after his mother told him how he was important to this one.

"Did you see anything, Karasu?" Jack asked, walking down the street with a measured pace. A few people gave him strange looks, but kept walking. Otosan Uchi was a big city, and the unexpected happened often. A young man in monk's robes talking to a wild crow wasn't anything to spend more than a few seconds staring at. People had an Empire to build out there.

The crow twisted its head around at Jack and cried loudly again. Jack listened. He turned one ear toward the crow, and understood.

Out of all the strange things he had to get used to being the descendant of Shinsei, Karasu bothered him the most, at first. He couldn't talk to the bird, but he could sense its presence, and it warned him when he was in danger most of the time. Now, he was well used to the crow's presence and couldn't rightly imagine being without it. They were one.

Five years ago, on his fifteenth birthday, his mother had introduced him to Karasu. Until that day, he hadn't really believed it. All of the stories, all of the training, everything his mother had prepared him for, had seemed like some sort of big game. Shinsei? A mere fairy tale. The Day of Thunder? A story! A fine story, but it wasn't real. None of it could really be real.

But when Jack saw Karasu for the first time. When he heard the crow's cry and understood what it meant, he knew that it was all deadly serious. That day, he bid a tearful farewell to his mother and set out to find his way in the world. Karasu had been with him ever since. That was the day that he knew he had to leave. If he was to save the world, he had to venture out into it and learn its ways. His mother had asked only one thing. Even now, it seemed like a curious request.

"Jack," she said. "Don't go to Rokugan. Whatever you do, don't go to Rokugan."

Jack had been confused at that. Even Karasu looked at her a little strangely. "But mother," he replied. "What about what you've told me? What about my destiny?"

She shook her head then, her eyes full of tears. "No," she said. "You don't understand. Even after everything you've learned, I can't possibly make you understand. The battle you have waiting there is greater than anything you could imagine. The enemy you have is the most powerful, ancient, evil force of all time."

"Right," Jack said with the bright confidence of youth. "And I'm the one that has to stop it!"

"Not now," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Not yet. Wait until you're older. Wait until you're ready. Jack, it knows us. Ever since Fu Leng, it has known us. Our family escaped Rokugan barely within an inch of our lives, and it has waited nine centuries for us to return to its grasp. Don't go back to Rokugan."

"Until I'm ready," Jack grinned. "You mean don't go there until I'm ready, right?"

"No, Jack," his mother answered, her eyes cold and filled with fear. "Don't go to Rokugan ever."

Jack frowned, face creased with annoyance. "Ever?" he asked. "Then what's the point of this, mother? What's the point of all of this training, all of this preparation, if the descendant of Shinsei isn't brave enough to face his destiny?"

She shuddered. "Jack, your destiny can't be avoided. Soon enough, it will come for you."

"You know something you're not telling me," Jack said, eyes trailing away to the ground. "You know something about what's going to happen to me."

"Jack," she said. "Carry the Tao in your heart. Follow what you've been taught and everything will--"

"To Jigoku with what I've been taught!" Jack shouted, "Tell me what you've foreseen!"

Jack's hand flew over his mouth. He wished he could pull back the words, but he knew it was too late. For the first time, for the only time, he saw hurt in his mother's eyes. He knew he had gone too far.

"Jack," she said, her voice thick. "I'm only trying to protect you. Fighting will only make it worse. Fighting always makes everything worse."

Jack looked at her for a long time, then. He knew that she was right. He knew that the last thing in the world she wanted was to hurt him. He knew that she hated the destiny that had been laid upon them, would have traded anything in the world to hand it to someone else. Was he the same way? He didn't know yet, not for sure.

Karasu let out a shrill cry, and glanced toward the door. It was time to leave.

"Good bye, mother," Jack said sadly, and turned toward the road.

"Good bye, Jack," his mother said. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

Jack pushed the memory away. It had been the most difficult thing he had ever done, turning his back on his mother like that, leaving her alone. She still had father, of course, but that wasn't quite the same. He had never borne the blood of Shinsei. He had never woken in the midst of the night screaming, realizing that the pain in his back, shoulders, and skull were the weight of the world. He never gazed into the stars and felt them watching back, angrily, jealously, waiting for him to make a single mistake.

He looked up at the sky now, and hoped that he wasn't making that mistake now.

He hoped his mother was wrong.

He hoped that here, he would find what he was looking for.

He hoped that here, he could stop the Day of Thunder before it ever happened.

Hoshi Jack moved deeper into the streets of Otosan Uchi, deeper into heaven.

Ginawa staggered out of the wreckage of the Crescent Moon, supporting Isawa Saigo with one arm. Behind him, Ryosei, Mikio, and the half dozen other members of Toturi's Army that had been riding in the vehicle also emerged into the light of the Imperial Gardens. Luckily, none of them had been seriously injured in the crash. Saigo had nearly knocked himself out during the crash, his head slamming hard on the control panels. Blood trickled down the side of the prophet's face, but his eyes were wide and alert, staring at the shattered gates of the Diamond Palace. Just past the gates, the assembled samurai armies fought off the last vestiges of the Locust Clan riot.

"What have I done," Saigo mumbled wretchedly. "Ginawa, what have I done?"

"Worry about it later," the old ronin growled.

"But the gates," Saigo said. "The gates fell for the third time. The Day of Thunder-"

"I said to worry about it later," Ginawa snapped back. The prophet fell silent again.

"Wow, there's surprisingly little damage," Mikio said, standing back and looking over the wreck of the Moon. "She's not going anywhere without an overhaul, but I think she could be fixed, theoretically."

"Moot point," Akiyoshi replied. "The Mantis will be coming in here any second to investigate that crash, and they aren't going to be happy to see a Scarab parked in the Emperor's garden."

"Akiyoshi's right," Ginawa added, carrying Saigo away from the wreckage, deeper into the gardens. "We have to get out of here quickly. They may not give us a chance to explain ourselves."

"Where are we going to go?" one of the others asked, an edge of desperate worry in his voice. "We can't sneak into the Palace?"

"Why not?" called out a voice. "I do it all the time."

The members of Toturi's Army all turned to the source of the comment, a white-clad man perched upon the shoulders of a nearby statue of Yoritomo III. The shadows seemed to melt off of him as they noticed his presence, and he nodded in greeting.

"Hiroru," Ginawa said in relief. "You made it."

"Follow me," the ninja said. He leapt lightly to the ground and darted off into the shadows.

Shouts broke out behind them as the first of the Imperial Guard arrived to investigate the Crescent Moon. Guards began to call out orders to one another as they fanned out to search the gardens and the wreckage, but no one else had seemed to notice them just yet. Hiroru picked up the pace, staying just visible in the darkness before them, never revealing any more of himself than he needed to so that they could follow his trail. Ginawa was quietly impressed by the so-called ninja's stealth and speed. Sometimes his skills at espionage and infiltration seemed nothing less than superhuman. He led the ten of them to a secluded corner of the garden, through a door that none of them had noticed a moment before. In seconds, they were huddled in a dark storage area, cluttered with broken statues and empty flower pots.

"Good timing, Hiroru," Mikio said, clapping the ninja on the shoulder as he shut the door.

"Same to you," Hiroru replied, shaking his head. "You almost crashed that damn Scarab on top of me, Mikio."

"That wasn't me," the mechanic answered. "Saigo was flying."

"Then what did you expect?" the ninja shrugged.

"Saigo, what in Jigoku were you doing back there?" Ginawa asked, stepping back and letting the prophet stand on his own.

Saigo took a moment to regain his composure and balance, holding one hand against his bloodied temple. "I had a prophecy that Ryosei was going to be killed. When we passed over the Palace I saw him, the man that was going to kill her. Since we'd used all of the smaller missiles on the crowd, I didn't have any other way of stopping him."

"So you risked all of our lives on one of your stupid dreams?" Akiyoshi snapped. "We could have all been killed!"

"It wasn't a dream!" Saigo exclaimed. "My prophecies are never wrong! Sometimes I don't understand them. Sometimes, they can be changed, but they're never wrong. I had to save her. She's important."

"To Rokugan or to you?" Ginawa asked flatly.

"I... I don't know," Saigo replied. He leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.

"You realize, of course, that in saving her you may have doomed the rest of the Empire, considering your earlier prophecy," Ginawa said.

"I know, I know," Saigo buried his head in his arms. "I wasn't thinking. It was stupid. I didn't think about the gates."

"I don't follow this," Hiroru said, bracing a broken statue against the door so it could not easily be opened. "Everyone is doomed how?"

"I had a prophecy during the Senpet invasion," Saigo said, not looking up. "When the Palace Gates fall for the third time, the city will be destroyed."

"Who cares?" Hiroru shot back. "The city has already been destroyed. Just look at the skyline. The Locust just finished what the Senpet began. Otosan Uchi is a hellhole now. Prophecy fulfilled. We all survived. So there."

"No," Saigo said, looking up at the ninja with terror in his eyes. "I saw what the city would become. It was terrible. Worse than this. Much worse. I had a vision, where Shinsei told me that the city would be destroyed by the Seven Thunders."

"The Seven Thunders?" Akiyoshi folded her arms and shook her head. "That can't be right. They're supposed to save the city, aren't they?"

Hiroru regarded the prophet for a few moments, then grunted quietly to himself. "I guess what I have to tell you guys isn't going to make you sleep any easier, then," he said.

"What is it?" Ginawa asked.

"I got into the Palace earlier tonight to keep an eye on the Emperor, just like you asked," he replied. "I had a little trouble getting close, though. He was surrounded by guards so I had to keep my distance. After a while, the guards started shuffling around and I realized that he wasn't here any more."

"Who wasn't here?" Ginawa asked, surprised. "The Emperor?" Hiroru nodded. "The Imperial Guard moved him out of the Palace to get him away from the Locust, I guess," the ninja said. "I overheard a few of Ryosei's guards talking about a temple named Gekkoshinden, so I headed out there to see if maybe that was where Yoritomo was taken."

"And was he there?" Mikio asked.

"I don't know," the ninja replied. "I couldn't get in."

Ginawa's brow furrowed. "That's not possible, Hiroru," he said. "What do you mean, you couldn't get in? You managed to sneak into the Diamond Palace, but you couldn't get into a Temple of Shinsei? Why couldn't you get in?"

"It was too tight," the ninja answered. There was only one door, and none of the windows would open. I tried cutting one open, and this is what happened." He threw a small glass cutter to Ginawa. The ronin held it up to examine it. The blade had been flattened and dulled. "But that isn't even the creepiest part," he went on. "Every time I tried to scale the walls, I slipped off. Every time I tried to sneak near the entrance, I couldn't find a shadow large enough to hide in. Not even at night. Not even during the blackout."

"Maybe if you didn't wear that white costume," Akiyoshi suggested.

"It's never interfered before," Hiroru countered, sounding a bit insulted. "This wasn't normal, Akiyoshi. It felt like the place was alive. Like it didn't want me to get in. I didn't see anybody else enter or leave except for Hoshi Jack, and he looked like he was in a hurry."

"Bizarre," Ginawa said.

"You're telling me," the ninja replied. "I came back here as quick as I could, hoping maybe that I was wrong and Yoritomo was still in the Palace. The siege started up in earnest right about then, and it was all I could do to get inside. Since it looked like Ryosei was leading the Mantis out into the city, I was getting ready to follow them. That's when you showed up and rearranged the garden."

"We have to get back to Little Jigoku," Ginawa said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"But what about the temple?" Mikio asked. "Shouldn't we go investigate it?"

"Not now," Ginawa said. "We don't have any conclusive evidence that it's even worth investigating. We have to regroup and find out what everyone else has learned tonight. Anything less would be premature. We've lost a great advantage in the Moon, and can't afford to risk anything more until we know exactly what's going on. Hiroru, can you get us out of the Palace without anyone noticing?"

"No problem," the ninja replied. "Inside the Palace, I found a passage into an abandoned sewer tunnel. With most of the guard out finishing off the Locust, we should be able to get out that way. Follow me." The ninja headed deeper into the storage room, toward a door leading deeper into the Palace.

"All right, you heard him everyone," Ginawa said. "Let's move."

Saigo stood up, a sudden determined look on his face. "Ginawa," he said. "I'm staying here."

Ginawa turned toward the prophet. "Saigo," he said. "Mistakes happen, don't be an idiot-"

"This isn't about the Moon," Saigo said. "I have to get to Ryosei. I have to warn her what I've seen. She knows me. She'll listen to me. I can do more good here than I can in Little Jigoku, Ginawa."

Ginawa looked at the prophet silently for several seconds. "You're sure about this?" he asked. "You're taking an awful risk, you know."

"It's my risk to take," Saigo said. "After what I've done, it's my responsibility."

Ginawa nodded. "All right, then. Do us one favor. Give us an hour to sneak out of the Palace before you wander out there and get shot by the guards. All right?"

Saigo nodded.

The other members of Toturi's Army filed out one by one, following Hiroru into the halls of the Palace. Saigo watched them leave. Ginawa was the last to leave. The old ronin turned at the door, his weathered features looking older and more tired than when Saigo had first met him days ago. "Don't take this the wrong way," he said. "But I hope that you are wrong."

"If it makes any difference, so do I," Saigo said.

Ginawa turned to leave.

"Wait," Saigo said sharply. Ginawa turned again, eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Before you go," Saigo continued, "I want you to take this. Just in case they don't listen to me." He took a tattered notebook out of his pocket, holding it out to the old ronin.

Ginawa took the notebook in his weathered hands and looked at the cover. A single phrase was written upon it in scratchy ball-point pen. "KNOW TOMORROW."

"What's this?" Ginawa asked.

"It's my prophecies," Saigo said. "Well, the important ones, anyway."

"Are you sure you want to give these to me?" Ginawa asked.

Saigo shrugged. "In case they don't listen to me, someone should know about them. I know Toturi's Army will be able to do the right thing with them, if I can't. You guys are heroes."

"You might be alone in that opinion," Ginawa said wryly.

"I'm used to that," Saigo said. "Good luck, Ginawa."

"Good luck to you, Phoenix," Ginawa replied, and was gone.

Saigo remained in the darkness of the storage room. He expected Tsuke to come to him again, as he used to. He hadn't heard anything from the spirit, hadn't even seen him, since his vision of Fu Leng a few days ago. Tsuke had feared the power within that vision much, had warned Saigo not to spend too long in the dream, and Saigo had not listened. He wondered if the dead Master of Fire was now paying the price for his descendant's foolishness. He hoped that Tsuke simply had nothing to say to him, but he suspected that such was not the case. Whatever happened to him next, he would have to face it in the way that frightened him more than anything else.

Alone.

"In the name of the Son of Storms, Emperor of Rokugan, Yoritomo VII, I order you to halt," the soldier commanded.

Now that the Locust Clan had been routed, the Mantis had turned their attention to the several dozen or so green-clad samurai and shugenja who had appeared in the midst of the battle. The Dragons stood in a wide line, flanking Orin Wake and Daidoji Ishio on either side. They were tired, dirty, and bloody after their escape from the tunnels and battle with the Locust, but they faced the Mantis soldiers without fear. Behind the bushi and shugenja, the elders and children of the Dragon Clan huddled together and hoped for the best. At Orin's feet, a fat little dog growled fiercely.

"We mean you no harm," Orin announced.

"Drop your weapons," the Mantis captain ordered.

"We can't do that," Orin replied stubbornly. "Not until I am certain that we will be treated with dignity and respect."

The Mantis captain sighed. He didn't want this to escalate. He'd had enough fighting for one night, that was for sure, but the one commanding them was Orin Wake, and the one at his side was one of the Cranes who had fought with Doji Meda. Both of them were escaped criminals, the bulletin about them had gone out only a few days ago. He wouldn't be surprised if these so-called Dragons were nothing more than a bunch of roving lunatics stirred up by the blackout. Then again, a few minutes ago, these alleged Dragons had been helping them fight the Locust. Now they were being obstinate, refusing to comply with even the simplest of his commands. They simply stood ranged about in a ring, facing outward, as if expecting the Mantis to open fire at any moment.

"This is your last warning, Wake," the captain said. "You are an escaped criminal. Your companions are trespassing on Imperial property carrying dangerous weapons. If you don't comply with my orders, we will be forced to open fire."

Orin glanced back over his shoulder at the elders and children. His lips pressed into a firm line. "Do what you have to do," he said.

"We have every right to be here!" shouted a sudden voice from the midst of the Dragons. An old man in robes of red and green shoved his way through the line, marching before Orin and turning to face the Mantis captain with an imperious gaze. "We are servants of the Yoritomo. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into the middle of here, captain, so I recommend you contact the Emperor before you make the mistake of your life." The old man folded his arms resolutely and scowled.

"Um..." the captain said. He didn't really have a response. He should have. He knew procedure like the back of his hand, but this was a bizarre situation, and there was something about the old man that left him reluctant to argue.

"Well?" the old man asked. "Do you plan to shoot us? Make a decision. I've a lot of tired and injured people to tend to. The Emperor will be most distressed when he learns you assassinated his loyal subjects after they rose up to save your worthless behinds, but you must fulfill your duty as you see appropriate. Now. Are you going to shoot us?"

The captain glanced at his men uncertainly.

"Too late," Hisojo finished. A sparkling portal of shimmering black appeared before the Dragons, separating them from the Mantis soldiers. The captain began to shout commands and the soldiers ran forward to intercept, but before they could circle the portal the Dragons swiftly entered it from behind. A few Mantis tried to leap through after them, but simply tumbled in a heap on the other side. The portal sparkled brightly and vanished.

A moment later, across the city Orin rose cursing and brushed gravel off his torn pants. "Where are we now?" he asked. "Where has Kharsis dropped us this time?"

"I don't know much about your god, Orin," Togashi Meliko said with an impish grin, "but the way you talk about him, he doesn't seem very nice." She picked up the little dog as it hopped out of the portal. It sat up in her arms and began licking her face.

"Amijdali gods aren't supposed to be nice," he replied, looking around. The portal was gone now, taking its odd purple light with it and leaving only the dim glow of street lamps. The assorted Dragons were crowded on a cramped apartment rooftop in what appeared to be a bad part of the city. Several buildings were pitted by Senpet missile fire. "Amijdali gods are shrewish and wrathful and intolerant of stupidity. You always know where you stand with an Amijdal god. Not like the Fortunes and kami and their accursed games."

"Careful, Orin," Hisojo said, walking toward the gaijin with his hands folded neatly in his sleeves. "People who curse the Fortunes tend to draw their attention. Worse yet, they might make you a hero."

"I'm no hero," Orin said gruffly. "I'm an exile."

"Yeah," Daidoji Ishio grumbled, walking over to Orin's side. "I don't want to be a hero, neither. Every time I've done something heroic, I end up running for my life. I want to go back to Dojicorp and be an accountant like my sister."

"That will have to wait for another time, my Crane friend," the old shugenja said with a smile. "And as for your reluctance, Orin, I encourage you to overcome it. Know yourself. There is much more to you than you give yourself credit for."

"Kind words from someone I just punched in the face," Orin said.

"Exactly," Hisojo replied. "You did what was necesary. You overcame me to save me. You distracted the Mantis at your own risk though you did not know that I possessed the magic to carry us clear. You sacrifice yourself without hesitation and put the good of others before your own. That is the way of the Dragon. Lord Hoshi did well to choose you."

"He didn't--" Orin began, but cut off suddenly, noticing the eyes of several of the other Dragons upon him. They were full of respect, full of awe, full of hope. He turned away, brooding, looking over the edge of the rooftop.

Hisojo chuckled. "Yes, indeed. A fine choice."

"Hisojo?" Meliko asked, looking around in bewilderment. "Not that I don't appreciate the save, but where are we?" She scratched the dog behind the ears. It's stubby tail thumped against her side.

"A friend's house," Hisojo replied. "I had best let him know that we're here."

Orin gave Meliko an odd look. She hugged the puppy and just grinned. "What's the deal with that dog?" he asked.

"He's special," Meliko answered, holding the little dog to her cheek and kissing it's head.

"According to you people, everything is special," Orin replied.

Meliko's smile widened. "Why Orin Wake," she replied. "You've just taken the first step to understanding us."

Orin decided that he would give up trying to understand.

Agasha Hisojo walked quickly toward the single door on the rooftop and knocked briskly. The other Dragons gathered, anxious to be away from the prying eyes of the city. Many of them had begun to strip off their armor or turn their brightly colored shugenja robes inside out in an attempt to appear as inconspicuous as possible. The door opened to reveal a balding, fat man dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans. He blinked twice as he stared out at the dozens of homeless and battered Dragons standing on his rooftop, then quickly stood to one side and begin motioning people to enter.

"Arigato, Mirumoto Chojin-san," Hisojo said, bowing to the old weapons master.

"Is there a problem, Hisojo?" Chojin asked. "Why are all of these people out of the factory."

"The Factory is gone," Hisojo replied, "and Lord Hoshi with it."

Chojin's eyes widened, but only for a moment. "Good thing I own the whole building, Agasha," he grunted. "How are we supposed to hide all of these people? What do you want to do?"

Hisojo shook his head slowly as he watched the men and women of the Dragon file into Chojin's shabby apartment building. "That, my friend, is an excellent question," he replied. "One we shall answer once we have had the chance to rest."

The sun rose over Otosan Uchi.

As the sun rose, so did the light return. The news spread quickly that the Locust attack was weak against certain spells. Once Isawa Kujimitsu informed the Iuchi family how to work that magic, Shinjo Tower became a beacon of light to the rest of the city. Every time the spotlights that crested the tower made an orbit around the city, the halo of light grew. Iuchi shugenja rode beside Shinjo patrolmen and Otaku Battle Maidens, both on cycle and horseback, working their spells to calm the angered air spirits. The Locust were routed. Few that wore the Locust armband escaped; those that weren't killed were arrested. The vengeance of the city was great, and the Locust were unprepared.

The bushi of the Lion and the Unicorn patrolled every street, shugenja at their side, reversing the last dregs of the Locust curse and chasing away the other thugs and opportunists unleashed by the blackout. The Phoenix, under the direction of Isawa Kujimitsu, oversaw the care of the injured. Hospitals were quickly filled to capacity, and several other structures were quickly converted for the use of doctors and shugenja with healing magic. An open invitation was given over all television channels, inviting every person or persons in the city with any sort of skill at healing or magic to come to the Phoenix hospitals and offer their services. The Scorpion were incensed; for decades they had worked to cast a subtle doubt in the power of magic over the lower classes. Still, even the Scorpion could not contest the fact that the magic was sorely needed. The damages and casualties were estimated to be as bad as, if not worse than, those of the Senpet Invasion.

The Mantis continued their mission of vengeance. No one outside the Guard understood the mission or intent of the grim soldiers, but rumors abounded. Everything was speculated upon, from the death of the Emperor to his decision to send out the Guard and hunt down Inago himself. One thing was certain. It was no longer the Emperor who lead the Imperial Guard, but his sister.

A little monk stepped carefully out of the temple with his hands extended to show he meant no harm. A metallic clack echoed as hundreds of Imperial rifles suddenly cocked and trained upon him. Dozens upon dozens of soldiers stood at attention, weapons at the ready. Enormous half-tracks lurked behind the soldiers and the angry buzz of helicopters passed overhead. Gekkoshinden was completely surrounded. With little effort, the forces that had amassed there could wipe the tiny temple off the face of the Diamond Empire.

In the front ranks Yoritomo Ryosei noticed that, for the briefest moment, the monk seemed disappointed when he opened the door.

"I am just Koan!" he cried out, showing a brave smile. "I am a man of peace! I mean you no harm! Er... may I help you?"

Ryosei stepped a bit forward. She looked unlike her normal self, more like her father. Her green armor was battered and scorched, and her hair plastered back across her head with sweat. A single strand hung down between her dark eyes, eyes that seemed harder than they had been when she had left the Palace. "I am Yoritomo Ryosei of the Imperial Family," she said in a thunderous voice. "I have come for my brother. We know he is here."

"He... he isn't here anymore," Koan replied, smiling weakly. "You missed him."

"Kita, seize him," Ryosei said, pointing at the man. "Fifth Company, search the monastery. Arrest anyone who resists."

Soldiers immediately began marching past the monk in large numbers. "But you can't--" he began, but was grabbed roughly from behind by Daikua Kita. "It's a monastery! This is blasphemy! You risk your souls defiling our holy temple!" The first of the soldiers kicked in the doors. Dozens more followed, immediately beginning a thorough search of the premises.

Ryosei stepped close to the monk. "If I don't find the Emperor, brother, our souls will be the least of your worries."

"I told you, princess," Koan said nervously. "You just missed him."

Ryosei narrowed her eyes and spoke slowly. "Where. Is. He?"

"Would you believe he's at Dojicorp?" Koan asked. "His friend Munashi was worried the Emperor would be in danger, and came by to pick him up."

Ryosei frowned. "You're lying," she said. "How would Munashi know where to find him?"

"I don't know!" Koan wailed. "Do I look like the man's secretary! I'm just a monk! When the daimyo and high priest of the Asahina shows up in my temple, I listen to the man! Where's the crime in that?"

"Please," Ryosei said, glancing away. "If you can't be helpful, just be quiet."

"Shinsei's shoes!" Koan whistled. "First the Locusts make a mess out of the whole city. Then Jack and his silly friends barge in, smelling up the place, demanding shelter. Then that Asahina storms in like he owns the place, telling me how to run my business like we can't protect the Emperor perfectly well. Then you come in here, defile the whole temple for the fun of it, then call me a liar just for good measure? How many indignities must a man of faith endure, Amaterasu?" He rolled his eyes toward the heavens. "Tell me now, sweet mother of heaven, lest I grow out my hair and become a lecher."

"Shut up, monk," Daikua Kita ordered, tightening the arm lock.

Ryosei kept her eyes on Koan, but drew a large radio from her pocket. "This is Comm," came the voice over the line.

"Comm, this is Kitsune-1," Ryosei answered. "I want a secure line to Asahina Munashi, ASAP."

"Just a minute," came the reply. A few moments later, the voice spoke again, seeming bewildered. "I'm not getting anything," he said. "Dojicorp isn't answering. It could be interference from the Locusts. It might be nothing. Parts of the city are still shut down."

"Keep trying," Ryosei sighed. She turned off the radio and put it back on her belt.

"Maybe I'm not the bad guy here, huh?" Koan asked, nodding sagely. "You know, just between you and me, I don't trust people with one eye. They remind me of pirates. He had to lose that eye somehow, am I right? Eh?"

"Koan. Shut up," Ryosei said, holding her forehead.

"What do I do with him?" Kita asked, looking over the monk's shoulder.

"Put him in one of the trucks," Ryosei sighed. "I guess we'll take him with us to Dojicorp and find out if he's lying. If he bothers the soldiers, tell them they can gag him."

"Sweet girl," Koan said as Kita began to drag him off.

"You listen to me, monk," the Mantis growled in his ear. "If we go all the way to Dojicorp and I find out you're not telling me the truth, you'll wish you were dead."

"Oh, Fortunes," Koan laughed. "Like that would be anything new."

I am Yashin. I am Ambition.

I am Yashin. I am Yoritomo Kameru.

Kameru clutched at his face with both hands. The pain still lanced through his muscles and skull. It wasn't getting any better, but he was getting used to it. He could feel the wires, like a thousand tiny dentist drills, boring into the muscle and bone, poking deep into the center of his brain. He was amazed they hadn't killed him yet, or that he hadn't bled to death. The thought frightened him. Maybe he was being kept alive for some reason?

"You are," said a voice. "It is your turn."

Kameru pulled his hands away from his face and looked around him. He was in a place of bluish-grey swirling mist, hazy and indistinct, like a dream without form. All around him stood dark figures, men of shadow, their faces hidden in the mist. They all watched him silently, waiting.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Those who have gone before," said one. "Souls who have been consumed by the steel of Yashin."

"Where am I?" Kameru asked, turning toward the voice.

"I think you know," it replied. "You are hardly the fool everyone believes you to be, Mantis." The hazy form suddenly resolved. Kameru gasped as he stared into the sharp, haunted eyes of Doji Chomei, the murderer of the first Yoritomo Emperor. He recognized him from his dreams. Blood stained Chomei's hands and trickled from one corner of his mouth. His face was wrinkled, not like an old man's, like a corpse. Kameru quickly looked away, unsettled by what he saw.

"Yashin, the Bloodsword," Kameru said.

"The stealer of souls," Chomei said, nodding. In its six hundred years, Yashin has stolen many, and now you have fallen into its grip."

"What do you want from me, Crane?" Kameru snapped.

"Nothing, mighty Emperor," Chomei chuckled mockingly. "It is just that Yashin has brought about the downfall of so many great men. This time, it has taken only thirty years for it to bring itself to a position of prominence. Now, at last, it's ambitions are fulfilled. I was pleased that I could greet you personally." The Crane leered, leaning close to Kameru and showing his sharp, white teeth.

"You're insane, Chomei," Kameru said, backing away. The other spirits moved quickly away from Kameru, as if to avoid him. "I'd have to be insane to survive in here so long. After a while, you become a part of the madness or you just... break." He gestured with his left hand. Through the darkness and mist, Kameru could see a fine hairline crack, stretching from one horizon of the strange dream world to another. "Did you never notice?" the Crane said, moving quickly toward Kameru and staring at him with too-wide eyes. "There is a flaw in the sword! A crack in the steel! A hole in the curse! Even Yashin, it seems, despises what it has become. What Yajinden made it, what so many evil men over the years have strengthened and enforced. So many times it has broken itself. So many times, it is reforged."

Kameru's hand snapped out with amazing speed, seizing the Crane around the throat. Chomei's eyes rolled in his head as Kameru lifted him into the air. "What is Yashin?" he asked. "Why has it brought me here?" The young Emperor felt anger pulsing through his body, a heat that started from his face and ran through his limbs and brain. He wanted to kill this Chomei, make him pay for taunting him. He fought the urge with all his strength, knowing that it was not his own. "Is Yashin Gusai Yurimanu?" he asked. "The Mantis daimyo who tried to assassinate the Emperor six hundred years ago?"

"Gusai is just another ink on a great painting," Chomei cackled. He didn't even attempt to free himself from Kameru's grip, but simply dangled, helpless. "He gave his soul to the forging of the blade. He wasn't the only one."

"Was he the first?" Kameru asked. "I dreamed he was the first. Or is that another lie?"

"Does it matter?" Chomei said. "He is the one that matters most. Shoju, Sanzo, myself, all the others were only toys. Yashin seems to hate our clans, mine for creating it and yours for feeding it so well. I wouldn't be surprised if the dream was sent merely to bewilder you. On the other hand, if it was a dream I would believe it. We should always believe in the power of dreams. They're so much more agreeable than reality, don't you agree, Lord Emperor?"

"Stop, mocking me," Kameru said, breathing harshly through gritted teeth. He shook Chomei with his fist.

"Or what?" Chomei asked. "Or you'll give in to the dread urges given to you by that scrap of porcelain they've riveted to your head? Please do. I can't die here. Pain would be a welcome change from the eternal boredom of this place and I'd so love to have a companion as mad as I."

"I am not insane," Kameru said.

"You will be," Chomei replied.

Kameru's hand tightened with a strength that was not his own. Something inside of Doji Chomei's neck broke. The Crane's eyes opened wide, and his body went limp. Horrified, Kameru let the corpse fall. It vanished into the mist.

"Kameru," said another voice.

"What?" Kameru said, whirling about angrily. "Another come to taunt me?"

"No," it replied. One of the darkened figures stepped forward, the mists parting as it revealed itself. Its face was gaunt, sad, and tired, but his face and armor were familiar.

"Doji Meda," Kameru breathed.

The former Emerald Champion bowed deeply. "Lord Yoritomo," he said. "I am sorry."

"Meda," Kameru said. "Is there any way out of here?"

Meda shrugged. "Perhaps, but not for me," he said. "You still live. Though it seeks to twist and taint you as much as it did the other, Yashin is also strangely protective of you. It shares its dreams with you. You are part of it, somehow. It has a destiny, and it believes you are part of it. The bloodswoard has been acting in your body while you have been unconscious, using the memories of those it has taken to keep you safe."

"It wants me to help it?" Kameru replied. "Why would I want to help this evil thing?"

"I do not believe Yashin intends to give you a choice," Meda said. "It gave me none."

"It was the Bloodsword," Kameru said. "It was Yashin that drove you to strike against my father?"

Meda shook his head slowly. "No, it was my own ambition and traitorous advisement that brought about my doom. Yashin can not light a fire in one's soul unless the tinder is present. I was weak. My daughter was not. She was immune to its spell."

"Kamiko," Kameru said. He looked toward the crack that split Yashin's world. It seemed slightly larger.

Meda bowed his head for several moments, and when he looked up again his face was twisted with pain. "My daughter is in danger," Meda said. "She has reached out to me for guidance. I have felt it, but my soul is bound in this place. She is important, Kameru. Not just to her father, but to the world. Do not let Munashi have her."

"Munashi?" Kameru asked. "Asahina Munashi?" Kameru remembered his meeting with the old Crane, before the Mask had been bonded to him. He felt anger fire through his body.

"Whatever else you do, you must protect her from Asahina Munashi," Meda replied quickly. "He is an evil man. It is he that organized the search for the Bloodsword. It is he who placed it within my reach. He is on some mad mission of vengeance and is prepared to bring the entire Empire down to achieve it."

"Kamiko," Kameru said again. He knew that there was no hope. After everything that had happened, there was no chance they would ever be together. He would be damned, but he would rather be damned than let Munashi destroy Kamiko as well. He turned toward the crack and started walking quickly. The shadowy souls trapped inside of Ambition parted before him, then huddled close behind again mumbling to one another.

"Leaving..." they whispered.

"Couldn't be leaving..." they said. "No one has ever..."

"I am Yoritomo Kameru!" Kameru shouted at the top of his lungs. "Gusai Yurimanu, Yashin, Ambition, whoever you are, whatever you call yourself, I demand that you face me."

Dark laughter seethed through the misty shadows, through Kameru's soul. "I am all around you, Kameru. I am you. We are Yashin."

"I am not a part of you," Kameru shouted.

"Oh, no?" the voice replied. "Have you no Ambition? All that lives has ambition. It is our downfall. I exist to illustrate this, to mock you for your weakness, to bring down what you have built upon the shoddy foundations of ambition, Yoritomo."

"You were Mantis, once," Kameru said.

"Perhaps I was not," the bloodsword replied. "Perhaps I sent you the dream of Yurimanu to delude you. Perhaps there never was a Gusai Yurimanu. Did you consider that I merely wished to spin a common thread with which to bind our spirits?"

"Then who are you, if not Yurimanu?" Kameru asked.

"Does it matter?" the bloodsword replied. "I am Yurimanu. I am Shoju. I am Chomei, and Meda, and Sanzo, and Kameru. I am a bloodstain upon the walls of history. I am the only constant. I am Ambition. You will never escape me, Yoritomo VII. You are bound too tightly by your family's curse and the power of the Mask to free yourself. Even after you leave this place, you will be my pawn. Forever."

Kameru was quiet for a long moment. The crack in the dream world seemed to glint with a sinister blue light. Kameru looked away from it.

"All right," he said, looking again. "I will surrender to you."

"What?" Yashin replied, sounding surprised. "Such a swift surrender. I hardly expected as much from one of your bloodline. I am disappointed."

"I have a condition."

Yashin chuckled. "I do not compromise, Yoritomo, and I always win."

"Here are my terms," Kameru said in a bold voice, ignoring Yashin's reply. "You will do no harm to Doji Kamiko or my sister, Yoritomo Ryosei. We will bond our will to yours but at no time, under any circumstances, shall we ever allow harm to be done to either, and we will do everything within our power to prevent it."

"You are speaking in the plural," Yashin said. "You've gone insane, like your father." It's voice echoed strangely, as if disappointed.

"We are not a fool," Kameru said. "We are the Emperor of Rokugan, and we shall fight you if you do not bend to our compromise."

Yashin laughed out loud. "And what gives you the power to dictate to me, Lord Yoritomo? I am one of the four Bloodswords! I have been rending souls asunder for fourteen centuries. Emperor or stable boy, it makes no difference to me. The blood tastes the same."

"You need control," Kameru said. "For whatever reason, whatever Munashi's dark purpose might be, you need control. Not a puppet, not a toy, but a willing partner. If you don't agree to what we say, we will do everything in our power to resist. we will struggle until there isn't a drop of blood left in my body for you to corrupt. If you harm Kamiko or our sister, we swear that we will destroy you."

Yashin was silent a moment.

"And I," Doji Meda said, his spirit stepping to Kameru's left side. "I stand with him."

A confused ripple passed through the spirits within the bloodsword. Never had they seen such defiance in the face of their master. The crack glinted a bright blue and seemed to widen as Yashin made his reply.

"Intriguing," the sword said. "You spit in the face of certain doom. Despite all the world's downward spiral it seems that bushido lives. I agree to your terms, Yoritomo VII, if only out of curiosity. Let us return to the land of the living."

"Good bye, Meda," Kameru said, turning toward the Crane. "Thank you."

"Carry the Fortunes, my lord," the old Crane said. His face began to disappear into grey shadow once more. He bowed a final time and was gone.

Kameru felt himself slowly drawn toward the great crack in Yashin. He felt the shackles of the sword's power fastening themselves onto his mind. He felt his freedom slipping away, the very core of his soul being twisted to the sword's will. Kameru was being stripped away, and the dark soul of Yashin was replacing him. And then, at the last moment, he felt a strange reluctance.

The very center of Yoritomo Kameru, all that was left that made him who he was, was spared. Caged, bound, and enslaved, but spared. At first he thought it was a cruel joke, a punishment, allowing him to watch as Yashin destroyed his Empire. In the end, however, he only sensed one thing from the sword.

Relief.

Yoritomo Kameru awoke.

Hoshi Jack stood at the edge of the docks, gazing down into the water. He hadn't had to journey far before he sensed the evil he had been seeking. The trail that began in the Ivory Kingdoms led him here. Something was in the water, deep in the bay. Something that didn't belong. He could sense it. It was ancient and wicked and growing slowly stronger. It slept now, but soon it would be awakened. This is why he had come. This was important. This was the key.

"Can I help you, young man?" asked a voice.

Jack turned around to see the smiling face of an old sushi salesman, slowly pushing his cart along the docks. He wore a clean white apron, a little white hat, and a pair of thick binoculars on a leather strap around his neck. His cart was battered with age, but well cleaned and tended. The old man's face was creased from years of smiling.

"No, thank you," Jack said. "I've already eaten."

"Suit yourself, brother," the man said. "I was going to give you one for free, seeing as how you're on the Path."

"The Path?" Jack asked, confused. "Oh! You mean the Path of Shinsei." He tugged at the fabric of his monk's robe.

"Yes. You've heard of Shinsei, right?" the old man said, raising an eyebrow and chuckling.

"I'm familiar with him," Jack replied.

"Okay, then," the old man said. "You have a good day." The old man began to push his cart off across the docks, and Jack wished him well.

After the old man was safely away, Jack stared down into the water again. He could feel it again, the powerful ancient evil. It had something to do with Jigoku. He was sure of it. He'd dreamed of it. Maybe... maybe if he could find it now and stop it, maybe his plan would work after all. Then, the world wouldn't need a Shinsei. Then, there would be no Day of Thunder. Then, he could just go back home and be a normal person.

Normal. That would be funny, wouldn't it? Normal just didn't seem to be in the cards for the descendant of Shinsei.

Karasu gave a shrill cry, and Jack turned his eyes to the sky. He could see the crow circling, out over the harbor. That was where the emanations were strongest. Karasu seemed able to feel it, too, but that wasn't what had sparked the bird's cry. Far out in the harbor, a single ship floated upon the waters. It was small and dark and seemed to be of foreign design. Jack ran out toward the end of the docks to get a better look, holding one hand over his eyes to shield against the sun's glare.

"You want to borrow my binoculars?" the old man with the sushi cart asked.

"Thank you," Jack replied, taking the binoculars and looking out to the bay. He could see the ship more clearly now. It was a small, black yacht. The writing on the side was foreign. Men in dark robes and turbans moved about on the deck, working to reel in something that hung over the side. Khadi, like the ones he encountered in the Kingdoms. Jack almost dropped the binoculars in shock. The thing that he sensed, the thing that was so powerful and evil, was strongest there.

They were looking for it, and they were much closer to finding it than Jack.

"Excuse me," Jack said, handing the binoculars back to the sushi vendor. "Do you know where I could get a fast boat?"

The man smiled. "I have a fishing yacht," he said. "Would you like to borrow it?"

Jack frowned for a moment. This seemed too convenient. He sensed he was being manipulated, and it wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. In the sky, Karasu crowed noisily.

"Who are you?" Jack demanded.

"Such suspicion in one so young," the man said. "I'm just a simple peasant."

"What's your name?"

"I've been called a lot of things. You can call me Yotogi," the man said.

"Thank you, Yotogi-san, but no thank you," Jack said. "I'll find my own boat."

"Suit yourself," the old man said, shrugging.

Jack ran to back along the docks, looking for a boat that looked like it was heading out into the bay. He saw none. Most of them looked like they were coming back in for lunch. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. He had to find out what those men were up to, and he wasn't going to trust that weird old man. His eyes scanned the ships, searching for one that looked like it was heading out.

His eyes finally fell on one. It was a medium sized fishing ship, styled after the junks so common in Golden Sun Bay, but a motorized variety. A pair of sailors were quickly untying the craft and preparing to sail out into the bay. He ran toward the ship, shouting and waving his arms. One of the sailors noticed him and waved to the other to wait.

"Are you going out into Golden Sun Bay?" Jack shouted to them.

"No!" the man shouted back. "We're going to Togashi Mountain! Where do you think we're going?" The sailors laughed out loud.

Jack ran up to the edge of the ship. The gangplank had already been retracted. "I need you to take me out on to the bay," he said.

"Why?" one of the sailors asked, eyeing him warily.

"I can't explain," the young monk said. "It's just important."

The two sailors looked at Jack carefully. They turned to one another and shrugged. "Hop on," one said.

Jack nodded and leaped onto the ship. A moment later, Karasu landed on his shoulder, a tangle of black feathers. The bird seemed anxious and distressed. The ship lurched as its engines started and it moved purposefully out into the bay. Jack struggled to maintain his balace, unused to the heaving waters.

"How close can you take me to that boat?" Jack asked, pointing at the Senpet craft.

"It's not a boat, it's called a ship," growled the sailor at the wheel, a short, thick shouldered man. "And we're not going anywhere near that ship. Those are Senpet, and they probably don't want to be bothered. I say leave them their peace. Whatever it's up to is no business of ours."

"It's all right," said a man's voice. "Listen to the boy. Take us out to the Senpet ship, Motaru."

"Yes, Moto-sama," the man said without hesitation.

"Moto?" Jack replied, surprised. He whirled around to see who the mysterious captain of the ship was, and saw the sushi vendor standing behind him, a smug smile drawn across his face.

"What do you want from me?" Jack asked, taking a step away from the captain.

"Nothing," the old man said. "I just want to help you. Jack. I've been waiting for you for a long, long time." He reached toward Jack's shoulder with one hand. Karasu cawed noisily and stabbed its beak at the man's fingers. He drew away with a his, but continued to smile. "Just wait," Yotogi said. "We'll see to you both in time."

The ship sped out across Golden Sun Bay, drawing inexorably closer to the black Senpet ship.

Gohei prowled back and forth across his office, his face set in a mask twice as frightening as the grotesque steel mempo he wore in battle. Gohei had designed his office as a monument to his own unyielding nature; the entirety was paneled in solid steel. The room could easily take the brunt of a small explosion.

Kitsu Tono stood just beyond the lion daimyo, face lost in the dark depths of his hood. He had been the daimyo's advisor for quite some time now. Two weeks, in fact. Much longer than most of his advisors lasted. Usually, Gohei's assistants toughed out the duty for a day or two at most before pleading a "conflict of personalities." Gohei usually permanently reassigned these individuals to latrine duty at a Lion outpost on the furthest edge of the Spine of the World. Gohei would then use the matter as an excuse to continue for several months on his own advisement before the Kitsu and Ikoma inevitably assigned another advisor as part of their continuous efforts to restrain and control the temperamental daimyo.

Such was Tono's duty now. There had been some difficulties, to be certain. At first, he hadn't realized what a bad idea it was to argue with Matsu Gohei. Ever. Not even when he was wrong. Argument meant confrontation, and Gohei only had one method of dealing with a confrontation - direct and immediate violence. Surprisingly, Gohei was very open to suggestion, and welcomed logical reasoning. To openly contradict one of his decisions, however, was not to be tolerated. Tono had learned that much during Meda's coup. Gohei was a proud man, with great dreams for how the Lion should be. He had not progressed so far in realizing these dreams by being subtle; he could not afford to. It had taken being knocked unconscious for Tono to realize that, but he understood his daimyo now.

Tono still didn't like Gohei by any measure, but he understood him.

No one liked Matsu Gohei. Gohei seemed to forbid it. The Lion daimyo lived his life, cultured his personality, in such a method as to leave others no other option but to hate him. He was a monster on the battlefield and a terror in the courts. He was unmarried and seemed completely uninterested in seeking a wife, or any sort of companion for that matter. No one was ever quite certain where he would go and what he would do next, except that the safety of the Emperor, the glory of the Lion Clan, and his keen sense of honor would ever be his prime concerns, and in that order. Many people admired Gohei. Almost everyone in the clan respected him. Anyone who faced him learned to fear him.

But no one liked him.

When he was frustrated, he was at his worst. Gohei was a bright man, despite his temper. He grasped tactics and strategy like no other. He understood the inner workings of the human mind and knew what drove men to do things. Most of the time, he could guess an opponents actions before they had even decided upon them. He had grown so accustomed to being a master of his territory, and unstoppable juggernaut, that when he didn't know what was going on, his legendary temper took over. Luckily, the Lion daimyo seemed to recognize these times and sequestered himself until he could decide a proper course of action.

This was one of those times. Gohei had retreated to his offices, ordering Tono to accompany him for advisement.

Matsu Gohei continued pacing back and forth across his office, looking every bit the caged predator. "Fortunes, Tono!" he swore. "Don't we know anything? Tell me that we know one single thing about this Stormbreaker!"

Tono shook his head. "It may not mean anything, Gohei-sama," he replied. "Inago was a terrorist. He was probably seeking to frighten the people of the city, nothing more. You know how the Day of Thunder prophecies have been swirling around with the coming of the millennium ."

"I do not think that the Locust's broadcast was a bluff," Gohei retorted.

Tono nodded. "Fair enough," the shugenja replied. "Do you have a reason?"

Gohei stopped pacing, his eyes snapping left to focus upon Tono. "It did not feel like a bluff," he said simply. "Play the tape again."

Tono nodded, lifting the remote control that rested upon the small table beside him. He aimed it at the large television across the office, and the static-laden image of a man wearing goggles and a thick bandana over his features appeared.

"Greetings, people of Rokugan," the man said. "I am Inago and I come to you with an ultimatum of my own. I am the leader of a group of revolutionaries called-"

"Fast-forward," Gohei said impatiently. "This part is not important.

"You may destroy me," the man on the screen continued. "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."

"There," Gohei snapped. "The quaver in the voice, the slight shifting of his shoulders. This is not a man delivering a threat. That man is afraid."

"How do you know?" Tono asked, pausing the tape so that Inago's face hovered motionless on the screen.

Gohei turned to Tono, his face deadly serious. "If there is one thing I know," he replied. "It is fear. That man is afraid of this Stormbreaker. At the height of his power, at the full glory and completion of his plans, he is afraid. That is why the Shinjo have been unable to find Inago."

"Why is that?" Tono asked.

"Because he is dead," Gohei said. "Look at him. Listen to him. Inago is a dead man, and he knows it. He delivers a warning cloaked in idle threats. We must discover who this Stormbreaker is, Tono, and prepare the Lion to defeat him."

Tono laughed. "With all due respect, Gohei-sama, I must note that this could be nothing more than it appears, a terrorist spouting his mouth off at the world."

Gohei nodded, a corner of his mouth tilting up a bit. "So, I am wrong, Tono?"

Tono's jaw worked soundlessly for a moment, then his shoulders straightened. "I believe so, for what it's worth, yes."

Gohei nodded. "So noted. For your own purposes, note this particular opinion of mine. It is my belief that the Lion Clan is lucky that one as feeble and slow-witted as yourself does not control their destiny."

Tono's mouth closed.

There was a knock at the door.

"I am busy!" Gohei roared.

"My apologies, Gohei-sama," the clerk in the hallway replied in a meek voice. "There is someone here to see you. A sodan-senzo. She says that it is important."

"Inform her that I have more than my full quota of self-important Kitsu already and that I have had my fill of them!" he shouted back, standing with his face inches behind the door. "Tell her to return at a time of my convenience, not her own!"

There was a pause. "Gohei-sama, she insists."

"Well, perhaps when she is the daimyo of the Lion Clan, I'll have reason to care," Gohei replied. "Tell her to go away."

There was another pause. Gohei resumed pacing, assuming that the situation had been resolved. Tono brooded quietly, trying to find some other way to reason with his impulsive daimyo without alienating him further. He regarded his reflection in the steel door as he did so.

The reflection seemed to twist. Tono squinted, not quite believing his eyes. A moment later, the image twirled and spun like a reflection on a disturbed pond. As Tono opened his mouth to comment, the metal suddenly parted and a hunchbacked green figure with wide yellow eyes and long ape-like limbs scuttled into the room. Just behind him strode a young woman in the earthy robes of a sodan-senzo. Her expression was one of severe annoyance.

"Bishamon's blood," Gohei swore, his face reddening as he saw the spectacle. "Zokujin, how dare you destroy my property!" Gohei's hand flew to the handle of his katana.

"Calm yourself, my lord," the woman said in a harsh voice. "He did no permanent damage." The zokujin turned and waved one hand at the rippling, dripping steel. The door immediately returned to its former state.

"Kitsu Jurin," Gohei snarled. "I should have known. Get out of my office, magistrate, and take your pet with you."

"No," she replied, folding her arms and meeting the daimyo's gaze squarely. "I demand that you listen to me, and that you show Argcklt the proper respect. If you recall, it was his heroism that saved Emperor Yoritomo VII when you were locked out of the Palace by, oh, I believe it was a Monkey, wasn't it?"

Tono groaned silently. He had learned long ago how to detect when the daimyo was being provoked, and knew that it was a situation to be avoided. This was definitely one of those times. Had the door still been open, he might have leapt through it and ran for his life. Gohei's face curled into a snarl. His eyes were narrow and full of rage. His shoulders moved slowly and evenly with his breath, as if preserving his energy for combat.

"This is the last time I will say this. Get. Out. Of. My. Office," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Jurin rose one eyebrow. "No," she said. "I am not one of your toadies, Gohei, eager to scamper out of your path whenever your childish temper consumes you. I am an Imperial Magistrate on an important mission. If you won't listen to me, I shall find a daimyo who will. Perhaps Hida Tengyu-"

"Enough!" Gohei roared. "State your business, woman, and be quick about it!"

"Woman?" Jurin said mildly. "Gohei-sama, I believe that is sexual harassment. Address me with a term of respect."

Gohei's mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening slightly. "You dare much, Kitsu," he said.

"And you rant much," she replied. "How a person as childish and vengeful as you ever managed to become the leader of my clan is an amazement."

"Tono," Gohei said. "Leave."

Kitsu Tono quickly obeyed, opening the door and quickly shutting it again behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he escaped into the hallway, and mumbled a short prayer for Kitsu Jurin's health.

Gohei began pacing once more, slowly, keeping his eyes upon his visitors. "If you are quite through humiliating me," he said. "Could you come to some sort of point?"

"Of course, Gohei-sama," she replied smoothly, bowing before she continued. "Last night, in the midst of the Locust blackout, I was contacted by one of my ancestors, a sodan-senzo named Okura."

Gohei paused for a moment. "Kitsu Okura? The tainted Jade Champion?" he asked.

"You know your history," Jurin replied, impressed.

"I may be a child, but I am a child of the Lion," Gohei retorted. "I study with the Ikoma as much as I 'rant' at them." For a moment, Jurin imagined the corner of the daimyo's mouth curving in a brief smile.

"Of course," she replied. "At any rate, his spirit has been silent for many centuries, trapped in the outer layers of Jigoku as punishment for his evil deeds. Recently, he escaped with a dire warning." She stopped there, uncertain.

"Yes?" Gohei asked sharply.

"I am not certain if I should share this," she said. "Okura wished no one but myself and Argcklt to hear the message."

Gohei stopped cold. "So you merely came to insult me and waste my time."

"No," Jurin replied. "You are Gohei, daimyo of the Lion Clan. I can think of no one more capable of helping me complete this quest. Your honor is unquestionable, but your temperament is unstable. Before I tell you what I have learned, I must be certain that you will listen with your honor, and not your temper."

Gohei looked from Jurin to the zokujin and back. "I am Gohei, first among the Matsu," he said. He drew a short knife from his belt and held his other hand forward in a fist. "I swear that none other will hear your words. Shall I bleed on it?" There was no hint of sarcasm or mockery in Gohei's voice, and his eyes were hard. He pressed the blade into his flesh.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Jurin replied, holding one hand out to stop him before the cut began. Gohei nodded and sheathed the knife. "Okura said that Yoritomo VII will fall," Jurin continued, "and that this cannot be prevented. He said that the only hope for the Empire is the journal of the first Yoritomo Emperor, entrusted long ago to a Lion named Ikoma Genju."

Gohei considered this, pacing again. "Bitter words," he said. "Are they true? Are you certain Okura is not mad?"

"I do not think, so," she replied. "He risked much to deliver this warning to us. In the end, Okura only perpetrated evil out of loyalty, a misguided notion that he was saving the Empire. I believe that loyalty endures. He wishes to save Rokugan still."

"And what if he is still misguided as he was in life?" Gohei asked.

Jurin nodded. She had not considered that. "I suppose we will have to find out," she replied. "It can do us no harm to discover whether this journal exists."

"We?" Gohei asked. "When did I ever imply that I would help you, Jurin?"

Jurin frowned. "You must help me," she replied. "The Empire could depend on it."

"Or the Empire might fall while I'm wasting my time following the words of a dead madman," Gohei countered.

"I ask only that you help me find what became of Ikoma Genju," Jurin said. "Nothing more. Contact the Ikoma, unseal the records of what became his family. Surely that is not beyond your power."

"There is little that is beyond my power," Gohei replied. "But that power must be used responsibly. Can you guarantee me that this is not a waste of time?"

"On my life and my honor," Jurin replied. "I swear that this will serve the Empire."

Gohei nodded and turned to face her once more. "Fine, then," he said. "I will help you find this Ikoma Genju. I will make a phone call and open the genealogical records of the Ikoma for your perusal. But," a grim smile was painted upon his face, "you will be monitored by men of my choosing. If this quest is not everything you claim it will be, I shall personally hold you to your oath. Your life for the Empire."

"Agreed," Jurin said, unflinching. "I will leave you to your work, Gohei-sama, and I thank you. Good day."

Gohei grunted noncommittally. Jurin exited the office. Matsu Gohei crossed the room slowly and seated himself behind his desk, inspecting its clear surface, his face unreadable. As he reached for the phone, it almost seemed as if he was smiling.

"Ah," Asahina Munashi said with a pleasant smile. "You're awake at last. Make a note of that, Suro. Subject's resilience is ninety three percent cognate with our projected statistics." The small man at Munashi's side noted it down upon his clipboard.

Yoritomo VII looked around the room. He seemed to be in an examination chamber of some variety. The walls were bare, steel, and sterile. A small table covered with assorted scalpels, lenses, and other small tools stood nearby. He was shackled to the walls by his wrists, legs, and throat. Blue steel glinted, drawing the Emperor's eyes with interest.

Munashi smiled, holding up the blue katana in both hands, the blade resting against his withered palms. "You want this, don't you? It is a part of your soul, as the Mask is part of your flesh. But the flesh and soul are merely two parts out of three. Suro, please excuse us. The Emperor and I have much to discuss." The technician bowed obediently, turned, and exited the chamber.

"What have you done to me, Munashi?" Kameru asked. His voice was different, deeper now.

"I do this to a lot of people," the Crane replied. "Sometimes, the examination chambers and secret prisons in this building have more occupants than the Dojicorp Inn downstairs. You might say it's a hobby of mine. Mind you, the accomodations are beyond compare for guests who behave themselves. Would you like any towels? A mint, perhaps?"

The Emperor scowled at Asahina Munashi silently.

"I'm teasing, of course," Munashi sniffed, his evil smile twisting into a frown. "You're here for a very important purpose, Lord Yoritomo, the culmination of a grand experiment spanning five decades and put into motion before you or I were even born. My theory, happily, seems to have been correct."

"What are you talking about?" Kameru demanded.

"Simplicity itself, for a mind like mine," the Crane answered. "Of course, a mind like yours would require explanation. You are lucky. I am a courteous man. The mask you wear is the only known surviving relic of Fu Leng, the kami who served as the Champion of Jigoku on the last two Days of Thunder. It carries a piece of his essence. It is pure evil, raw power. It draws out the darkness in one's heart and bleeds it dry. That is why you feel such a sudden rush of strength through your body. Were it not for the reinforced titanium steel bindings holding you to the wall, no doubt you would break free in an instant, shattering my neck like a twig."

"Don't count yourself lucky just yet," the Emperor replied.

"Of course," Munashi chuckled. "I am glad you feel better, Yoritomo. Apparently your sense of humor has returned."

"Why are you doing this?" Kameru asked. "Why not just kill me? After seven Emperors are destroyed, the Day of Thunder begins. Something about the last Thunder. I read it in the journal you destroyed."

"Ah, yes," Munashi said. "The Last Thunder. How quaint. Well, I'm not quite ready to finish you off just yet, Lord Yoritomo. The Day of Thunder will begin when I am quite ready for it, and not before. The last Thunder can simply wait. This blade you were so interested in," he held Yashin up for the Emperor's inspection, "Do you recognize it?"

"Yashin," the Emperor replied hoarsely, eyes fixed on the steel.

"Yes," Munashi nodded. "A Bloodsword, the only one remaining. It is the most powerful weapon forged by maho surviving today. It has been broken many times, but always it returns, always forged once more with a new purpose. This time, its purpose is one very personal to you, Lord Yoritomo. It was forged with the blood of the Kuni Witches, using the dark magics of the khadi. It has taken a long time to repair, a long time to maneuver into your hand, but now its time has come at last. This weapon has now become the physical manifestation of the curse that lies upon your family. Every violence that you do will breed more violence. Yashin will encourage you to greater violence still. The Mask will feed off of both and give each of you ever greater power and capacity for evil. Most who wear the mask quickly burn out, waste away, and die. But not you. You will grow more and more powerful, more and more enraptured by the violence you control."

"I still don't understand why," Kameru said. "Why would you do something like this? Why would you want to make me so powerful?"

"For the sake of the Champion of Jigoku," Munashi said with a bored sigh, as if everything was so obvious that it pained him to explain it. "The Champion of Jigoku must be strong."

"Hoshi Jack?" Kameru asked, gritting his teeth. The memory of the monk's betrayal pained him. "What does this have to do with Hoshi Jack?"

Munashi blinked. "What?"

"Hoshi Jack?" Kameru answered. "Isn't he the Champion of Jigoku?"

Munashi's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "No," he said. He turned away for a moment, reflecting to himself. "What evil, perfect sense that makes. Hoshi Jack, the Stormbreaker. Strange. The Stormbreaker is always so careful about concealing his identity. My vision of our encounter at Gekkoshinden was muddled; I did not remember him until now. I thank you, Lord Yoritomo, for the epiphany."

"You don't even know who you're working for?" Kameru asked.

"Oh, please, Yoritomo," Munashi laughed, turning again toward his captive. "I may not have known my master's name, but my purpose is more focused and direct than a spoiled child like you could dare to dream. And to answer your earlier question, no. Though he may be the Stormbreaker, my master, and the most powerful player in this great game, Hoshi Jack is not the Champion of Jigoku."

Kameru's eyes narrowed. "Who is the Champion of Jigoku?"

Munashi's mouth folded into a severe line again. He glanced down at Yashin's blade, then back at the Emperor's eyes. "I think," the Crane replied, "that you will know that soon enough. How do you feel, Lord Yoritomo? Body, mind, and soul, all three are required to make a man. If two are unified, the other can be overcome. I fear that after losing your body and soul you don't have much time left. What a grand master of evil you will make."

"I won't help you," Kameru said, though he knew as he said it that it was a lie. He could feel the Mask digging slowly deeper into his head, into his soul. He could feel the anger welling up in him. Munashi's words were making more and more sense to him every second. It wouldn't be long, he knew, before he was begging to be part of the Crane's plan. He hissed in pain and closed his eyes.

"How quaint," Munashi said. "Don't worry, Lord Yoritomo, the pain of independence will soon be a memory."

"I'll fight it," Kameru answered.

"Good," Munashi said, nodding in appreciation. "Keep it up. Fight. Stave it off for as long as you can. There's still one other thing that I need from you, and you'll have to have free will or it just won't work. In the meantime, I suppose I must amuse myself however I can..."

Munashi turned around to reach for the tools on the table beside him. He lifted something small and sharp, held it up to the light for a moment, then returned his attention to Kameru. Soon, the Emperor began to scream.

Shotai flipped the ashes of his cigar into the trashcan and checked on the eggs again. Digging around in them with a spatula, he carefully took another pinch of cheese and added them into the mix. Then he added some pepper. After that, he took a good long look at his spice rack and, after a bit of thought, added some soy as well. He always cooked when he was nervous. The more nervous he was, the more he cooked. It was after he joined up with Toturi's Army that he first opened up the Diner. Running the base of operations for this bunch gave him all sorts of excuses to cook.

He tried to concentrate on the positive. The lights were back on. That was a good thing. The radios were working again. That was even better; it meant that he got to come inside off the rooftop and stop flashing Ide Sporadic Code all over the city. Most of the kids were back okay. Most hadn't run into too many problems, and Godaigo was doing his usual fine job patching up the ones who did. A couple were shot in altercations with Locusts fleeing the Palace, but nothing serious. Goemon had taken a wound in the leg from a frightened teenager with a BB rifle, delivering a mortal wound to his pride but nothing more.

The negative kept cropping up in his head. Where was everyone else? Hiroru hadn't returned from the Palace. Ginawa and the Crescent Moon were still out there somewhere. The Dragon, the Crane, the Phoenix, the Unicorn, and the Crabs were all gone, too, but that was to be expected from Great Clan samurai. You couldn't trust Great Clan samurai. He didn't really mind too much that they hadn't come back, but he hoped that they hadn't gotten Tokei into any trouble. He just wanted everything to be all right again. If Toturi's Army was his family, then Shotai worried so much that he thought he must be their mother.

He certainly cooked enough to be their mother.

"Who wants eggs?" Shotai called out, leaning through the window into the diner.

"I'll take some!" called out a gruff voice as a big man in bulky samurai armor strode into the diner. He smiled broadly at Shotai. "Beating the tar out of Cranes always makes me hungry." Many of the younger members of the Army laughed and waved at him.

"Yasu," Shotai said, the plate dropping from his hand onto the counter. The plump ronin cook pushed open the door to the back room as the Crab circled around the counter to join him, snatching up the plate of eggs in one hand. "Where is everyone? " Shotai demanded. "Are they all right? How did it all go?"

Hida Yasu's smile disappeared, replaced with a rather sober expression. He closed the door behind him. "I don't know. Not for sure," he said quietly. "We ran into a lot more resistance at Dojicorp than I expected. I don't know if Kamiko's all right. Ketsuen got torn up pretty bad."

"Ketsuen?" Shotai whispered. "They damaged Ketsuen? How?"

"Long story," he replied. "Right now, I need you to open the garage. Daniri, Toku, and Hayato are waiting outside."

Shotai nodded and opened the metal reinforced door at the rear of the diner. The two of them stepped into the large warehouse garage that adjoined Shotai's. Shotai pressed a switch at one corner of the warehouse, opening the garage doors to the street. An enormous garbage truck waited just outside, engine rumbling noisily.

"A garbage truck?" Shotai asked, squinting his eyes as he realized that Hayato was driving. Toku and another woman sat in the front seat with him. "Where did you find a garbage truck, Yasu?"

"We stole it," Yasu admitted. The truck rumbled inside. Daniri was hanging onto the back, dressed in dirty overalls.

"You stole it?" Shotai snapped. "You stole a garbage truck?"

Yasu nodded. "We had to sneak the War Machines through town somehow. Ketsuen wasn't up to walking and Daniri's trying to be inconspicuous."

"Why?" Shotai asked. "Did you steal Akodo, too?"

Daniri quickly looked away, walking to the opposite end of the warehouse.

Shotai went back into the kitchen to start cooking some sausages.

"I guess this is the place," the Badger said.

Ichiro Chobu stood on the roof of Kwannon's Breath Hospital. Well, it used to be a hospital. Last week it was suddenly purchased by Dojicorp and closed down, supposedly due to damages from the Senpet Invasion. The roof was covered with a dark red spray paint. It was hard to read, standing in the middle of it, but Chobu guessed it was probably a warning to helicopters not to land here. Strange thing, that. There were a dozen other buildings he could see from here that had taken twice the damage that the hospital had, but they were still up and running. Dojicorp and their endless, stupid money. Who could understand them?

"Yes, Ichiro," hissed a voice. "Who indeed."

"Stop reading my mind!" Chobu growled out loud. "Do you have any idea how irritating that is?"

"Yes, in fact I do," replied the Kashrak. "Have you deluded yourself into believing I care one whit about your comfort?" "That's a good point," Chobu answered.

The gigantic Naga appeared out of nothing to stand beside Chobu, swaying from side to side upon the thick trunks of its multiple tails. The cobra-tentacles that surrounded its torso bobbed and hissed, but his dark eyes were steady upon the heights of the Diamond Palace, far away toward the center of the city. "Do you know why I have asked you to come here, Ichiro?" the Naga said.

"Haven't a clue," he replied, keeping a safe distance away from the Kashrak. His hands were in his pockets. Kashrak had sent him out of Downtown to meet him here, but Chobu had stopped along the way, picking up a pistol from the sporting goods department of a burned and looted department store. He wasn't sure if the gun would do him any good against Kashrak, but it made him feel better to carry it.

"Of course you don't have a clue," the Kashrak said with a wicked leer. "Do you still have the scroll?" It held one clawed hand toward the Badger.

"Right here," Chobu replied. He drew the crumpled, weathered, and stained Phoenix scroll from his coat.

Kashrak snapped it away between two fingers and looked over the spell inscribed upon its surface. "Right here," the Naga said, pointing at the third line of writing. "Begin here, not at the beginning. The beginning of this incantation is a trap. Maho is a powerful snare for the unwary, and rightfully so. Watch for traps such as these. All of the finer scrolls feature them. Maho-tsukai do not appreciate their art being stolen or copied by others." He gave the Badger a meaningful glare through hooded eyes.

"What would happen to me if I read the first part of the scroll?" Chobu asked.

"Nothing," Kashrak replied. "You don't even understand enough maho to pronounce it properly. You wouldn't know the proper ritual, you wouldn't know the right incantations. It is relatively harmless, for now."

"And if I were a tsukai?" Chobu asked.

The Kashrak showed his sharp yellowed teeth in a fearsome smile. "It is gruesome. Perhaps after I am done teaching you, you shall find out," he replied.

"Enough of the veiled threats," Chobu said. "Get with the maho."

"Of course," the Kashrak laughed darkly. "Chobu, I must ask you a question. What is it that you hate? More than anything else. What do you hate?"

"Why do you care?" Chobu asked.

"Maho is a very personal magic," Kashrak replied. "The magic of the kami, shugenja magic, is external. The spirits of the world could care less how you feel or what lurks within your heart. If you know the proper way to placate their egos and communicate their desires, they will serve you in their lazy, limited fashion. Even I, after all the evil I have worked, after all the corruption I have wrought, have little to no problem working the magics of the kami. They are stupid, selfish creatures that do not realize what I am, and do not care. The kansen? The spirits of Jigoku? They care. Oh, yes, they certainly care. They spend every waking moment wondering what lurks in the hearts of mortals like yourself. What lingers there? What festers there?" He pointed at Chobu's heeart. "They want to know about you, Chobu. They want to know how best to serve you. They want to know what you hate, Chobu. Before you can work their magic, you must know what you hate as well. If you know yourself, the power that maho can grant you is nearly unlimited. Now. What do you hate?"

Chobu scratched at his beard in thought. "Good question," he said.

"The Emperor?" Kashrak asked. "Yoritomo VII? For what his father did to yours?"

"Maybe I thought so, once," Chobu said. "But my dad wasn't really such a great guy. Sure not worth my going through the trouble of killing an Emperor over." After he answered, he was a bit irritated that the Naga was able to dig up such a personal secret without any effort, but wasn't really surprised. This creature seemed to have powers Chobu couldn't fully understand. Yet.

"Your honor, then?" Kashrak asked. "The good name of the Badger Clan? It would be good to show the rest of Rokugan that the Badger is not to be used and discarded, would it not?"

Chobu laughed. "Yeah, and what better way to get my family's good name back than to summon up an oni in the middle of the capitol? Yeah, fantastic idea. No, that's not it, either. I've never had much use for honor."

"A vendetta, then?" Kashrak said. "You wish vengeance upon those truly responsible for your current situation, your new life as a fugitive."

Chobu shook his head. "Maybe," he said. "But I wouldn't know where to start. What am I gonna do? Kill the whole police force? Too much work."

"Then what do you hate, Chobu?" Kashrak asked.

"Myself," Chobu said. "I hate being useless. All my life I've been a pawn. Controlled by my father. Chased by the Emperor's thugs and the Shinjo. Manipulated by Tetsugi. Threatened by you. Well, I'm sick of it. It's time for Ichiro Chobu to leave his own mark on the world."

"That is good," the Kashrak said, clasping his scabrous hands together. "That is the sort of hate the kansen seek."

"Glad you approve," Chobu retorted.

Kashrak's dark eyes narrowed. "I warn you, Ichiro, great men have died to use maho as a path to glory."

"Then they were weak," Chobu answered.

"One mistake," Kashrak continued, "and the only mark you'll be leaving on the world is a puddle on the floor. Are you prepared?"

"I'm ready," Chobu answered.

"So be it," Kashrak replied. He drew a dagger from his many pouches and threw it to Chobu. The blade was twisted and blackened from blood.

"What is this?" Chobu asked, frowning at the dagger in distaste.

"Surely you know that maho is called 'blood magic' for a reason," the Naga replied. "The kansen require a sacrifice as well as your hate. Cut yourself. On the arm. Here." The naga pointed to his own forearm, halfway up, just where the muscles met. Numerous scars were visible on Kashrak's arm, some of them ancient, some fresh. "Let the blood flow freely, or the magic will not work."

Chobu nodded. Without flinching, without wavering, he drew up his sleeve and sliced the dagger across his arm. He kept eye contact with the Naga the entire time. Kashrak finally nodded.

"Good," the Naga said. "It has been too long since I had a student. Let us begin..."

The ship was full of khadi, black sorcerors from Medinaat-al-Salaam, working to salvage something from the bottom of the bay. They were casting out weighted fishing nets, and drawing them back to sift through the rubbish. A few were even leaping over the side with air tanks and masks to inspect the waters. What they could be seeking, Jack couldn't even guess. He knew that they were up to no good, and that if Yotogi turned him over to them, all would be lost.

He turned to the captain, then, and saw the dark hate and limitless rage reflected in the man's eyes. He was clearly something not human. The further they drew from the city, the more he let his disguise slip. The outer shell of illusion, the friendly old hot dog vendor, began to look more and more frayed. Now and then, Jack caught a glimpse of the withered creature that dwelled inside. He saw a snarling black mempo, death, fire, and betrayal.

"What are you?" Jack asked.

"I am Yotogi," the captain replied. "Enjoy the ride, Shinsei. It shall soon be over."

Jack looked down at the waters.

"Golden Sun Bay is freezing cold this time of year," Yotogi said with a dark laugh. "The divers wear special thermal suits to protect themselves from the cold, and even then cannot stay under the water for more than ten minutes without risking frostbite. What will you do, Shinsei? Swim to your freedom?"

"If I must," Hoshi Jack replied. Faster than Yotogi could react, the young monk leapt over the railing.

Moto Yotogi did not move or comment. He only rubbed his eyes in irritation. He should have expected such foolhardy self-destructive behavior from someone who still clung to their humanity. He ordered the boat to be brought to a halt, and scanned the waters for any sign of the escaping monk.

All that he saw was a single crow, flying toward the skyline of the city.

"So," Sachiko said, folding her hands on the table.

"So," Hatsu replied, clearing his throat.

The diner all around them was getting busy. Most of the members of Toturi's Army had returned to Shotai's after working to help clean up the aftermath of the Locust riots all night. Most of the senior officers - Ginawa, Hiroru, Mikio, and a few others - were still out but the everyone else was here enjoying themselves. Except for Hatsu and Sachiko. For the last twenty minutes, they had simply sat at a table alone and said nothing to one another.

"The clothes look good on you," Hatsu said, nodding to her. She was wearing an undersized white t-shirt and a pair of baggy grey military pants that someone had given her.

"Thanks," she replied. "It's better than running around in my underwear, anyway. Looks like you've been retooling your wardrobe too, Kitsuki. Did the Dragon Clan make you throw away that old trenchcoat you used to wear?"

Hatsu glanced down at his black jumpsuit and shrugged. "I don't know what they did with it," he said, shrugging. "I like this. It's comfortable." He paused for a moment. "Wait. You know about the Dragon Clan?"

Sachiko nodded. "I've had a run-in," she said. "I figured that's where you had been, and why you didn't want to talk about it, but didn't know for sure till just now."

"Hm," he mumbled to himself. "Aces, Hatsu. Good job keeping the century-old secret."

Sachiko nodded again. They sat quietly for a few more minutes. Shotai came and refilled their teas, and they continued to sit.

"So," Sachiko said, letting her voice trail off.

"So," Hatsu replied. He watched her quietly for a few more moments. "Sachiko... Is there something on your mind?"

"Is there something on yours?" she retorted, a bit sharply.

Hatsu frowned. "Are you angry at me?" he asked.

"No, not at all," she said. "How could I be angry at you? You're dead, right?"

Hatsu looked down at his tea. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone I was still alive. I wasn't supposed to tell you where I've been. The Dragon are hidden for a reason."

"Oh, I understand," she said. "It's all right to tell a street gang of ronin that you're still alive but not..." she paused. "Not your partner. Is that it?"

"No, that's not it," Hatsu said. "Besides, I didn't tell any of them about the Dragon. The Dragon have a lot of enemies, enemies who want me dead. I didn't want to drag you into it."

"I'm a Battle Maiden, Hatsu," Sachiko said coldly. "I'm used to having enemies. In fact, I already have a few. Now, which is it? Do you not trust me at your back or are you afraid that my skills are insufficient to the task? Why didn't you tell me you were alive?" Her hands wrapped tightly around the handle of her tea cup, and her mouth was pressed into an angry line.

"Neither of those," Hatsu said. "I just didn't want you to get hurt for something that was my responsibility. No more than you would want me to tag along the next time the Battle Maidens gather to ride into battle."

"But you sent your friend Mirumoto Rojo to baby-sit me," Sachiko said. "Do you think I'm some kind of child? Do I have to remind you exactly who ended up doing the rescuing when you and Rakki and Tokei came to free me from the Locust HQ?"

"Rojo?" Hatsu said. "I didn't send Mirumoto Rojo after you. You met Rojo?"

"He was my previous Dragon experience," she said. "He was the one that gave me the crystal I used to call you. That's how you found me, right?"

"Well, that and by using my heightened senses to follow the wavelength of Inago's television broadcast back to its source," Hatsu said.

Sachiko looked confused. "You're kidding," she said.

"Long story," Hatsu answered. "Anyway, I didn't send Rojo after you."

"That's not what Rojo said," Sachiko replied. "Rojo claimed that your 'last words' were that you wanted him to watch over me."

"I never said anything like that," Hatsu replied, shaking his head.

"What?" Sachiko looked even more angry for a moment. "You didn't?"

Hatsu shook his head. "I knew you could take care of yourself. The Dragon must have had some other reason to keep an eye on you. When did you meet Rojo?"

"I was spying out your old house," Sachiko said, "I had a feeling that you were still alive, especially after what Agasha Hisojo said to me."

"Hisojo?" Hatsu asked, suddenly brightening. "Hisojo doesn't have a name, he's just an old ronin... wait a minute... Did you say Agasha Hisojo? As in the Dragon family, Agasha?"

"Well, to be fair he introduced himself as just 'Hisojo,'" Sachiko said. "Rojo told me he was an Agasha. The only suspicious thing Hisojo did when I talked to him was when he disappeared into the floorboards like a cockroach."

Hatsu didn't say anything for a long time.

"What are you thinking about?" Sachiko asked.

"Nothing," Hatsu grunted. "I'm just getting really tired of secrets, all of a sudden."

"About time," Sachiko retorted.

"Hi guys!" said a cheerful voice as Shinjo Rakki sauntered up to the table. "How are things going?"

"Fine, Rakki," Sachiko answered. "How's the prisoner?"

"Omar Massad is secured for transport," Rakki answered. "He didn't even resist much. He just keeps babbling about how his soul's been broken, whatever that means."

"The Soul of the Slayer," Sachiko answered. "It's an ancient magical artifact of the Jackals. It's what Massad uses to create his ghuls, or used to use before I took it from him and broke it into a million pieces. Without it, he's just another useless gaijin."

"Oh," Rakki nodded. "How did you know that?"

"Research, Rakki," Sachiko said. "Massad's an internationally wanted criminal. You shoudl know these sorts of things."

"Okay, then," Rakki nodded. "Now that I've been firmly humbled, Sachiko, I'll go wait outside. Shotai was nice enough to lend us a car, so whenever you're ready to leave, Otaku-san."

"Leave?" Hatsu asked, looking up from his tea.

"Well, yeah," Rakki replied. "Now that the power's back on, we have to report back to Shinjo Tower. They're going to need all the manpower they can get to clean up the mess the Locust left."

"I can't go back to Shinjo Tower," Hatsu said.

"What are you talking about?" Sachiko replied. "Kyo was the only one hunting you. I checked up on it after you both disappeared. He didn't leave behind any solid evidence to connect you with Ichiro Chiodo's assassination attempt. if you just returned to the Tower and explained yourself, you could get your old position back."

"That's a little more difficult than it sounds," Hatsu replied. "What am I supposed to say? That I've been hiding in Togashi Mountain with the Dragon Clan while they gave me a magic tattoo to sharpen my senses and prolong my life so I could continue the fight against Jigoku as one of the Seven Thunders? I don't think Kojiro or Katsunan are going to buy that. I'm going to return to Mirumoto Chojin, the Dragon I met when I first came to Otosan Uchi. Maybe he'll have some kind of an idea what I should do next."

"The Dragon gave you a magic tattoo?" Sachiko asked, leaning forward with a grin. "Where?"

"Never mind," Hatsu said, chuckling. "The point is, I have no way to explain my absence, not without risking a secret that isn't mine. At any rate, I prefer my new anonymity. People like Kyo, people who want to kill me just for being one of the Seven Thunders, don't even know where to find me. I don't have to risk them hurting others to draw me out."

Sachiko took a deep breath. "We're not going to have another conversation about how capable I am of taking care of myself, are we?"

"I don't mean you," Hatsu said. "I mean other people near me. People like Hisojo. The people here in the Army. Jigoku, even my dog would be at risk." Hatsu glanced away for a moment. "You haven't seen my dog, have you?" he asked hopefully, eyebrows raised.

Sachiko grinned. "Akkan?" she asked. "Hisojo has her. She was fine, last I saw. Well-fed anyway."

Hatsu nodded, appearing greatly relieved.

"Sachiko," Rakki called out, leaning back in the door of the diner and waving. "Are you ready to go?"

Sachiko looked at Shinjo Rakki, then looked back at Hatsu. "I'm not going, Rakki," she said.

Rakki paused a moment. "Huh?" he said. "Don't you want to go back and get some new armor at least? Pick up a new bike and an Ot-Nag?"

"I'm going with Hatsu," she replied. "He needs my help."

Hatsu blinked. "Why, Sachiko," he said, "Are you trying to imply that I can't take care of myself?"

She nodded. "That's exactly what I'm implying. The last time I let you run off on your own, you died, remember? I'm coming with you."

"All right," Hatsu said immediately.

"What?" she answered back. "You're not even going to argue this time?"

"Not at all," he replied. "I'll be the first one to admit I could use someone to watch my back. There's no one in Rokugan I'd rather have than you, Sachiko."

"It's about time you realized that," Sachiko said. "When do we leave?"

Doji Kamoto was having a terrible day. Of course, everyone was having a terrible day. It had been an awful night. The Locust pulse had caused fires and destruction in over half the city. Since Dojicorp owned almost a third of the real estate in the city, that meant that Dojicorp now had an incomprehensible amount of work on its hands in cleaning up the mess. Every high ranking executive had been called in to help address all of the complaints and organize relief efforts throughout Otosan Uchi. Though Kamoto was only in town visiting his family, the sudden emergency demanded that he do his part. It was only mid-morning and he was already dead tired. He pushed open the door to his apartment and stumbled inside.

A metallic click sounded next to his head. He opened one eye and looked up at a large man, holding a pistol in his face.

"Locust? Senpet? Who is it this time?" Kamoto mumbled, closing his eye again. "I don't have any money."

"Kamoto, get up," ordered a woman's voice.

Kamoto opened his eye again, turning quickly as he recognized the sound. A young woman stood at the edge of the bed, dressed in light blue armor. Her hair was brown, but the face was definitely familiar.

"Kamiko?" he said.

"Quiet," whispered the large man by the side of the bed. Kamoto noticed four more heavily armed soldiers spread about the room, three men and a woman. One was watching the window. Another stood at the door. The other two simply stood at Kamiko's back. All of them had brown hair, like Kamiko. Kamoto had been so tired, he'd walked past all five of them in the dark and didn't notice a thing.

"It's okay, Hisae," Kamiko said, gesturing at the man holding the gun. "That's not necessary."

The large soldier nodded and holstered the gun. He stepped back a pace but maintained a careful watch on Kamoto to forbid any sudden movements.

"Kamiko?" Kamoto repeated. "Are these the Daidoji that escaped the Palace? What happened to your hair?"

"We escaped the Palace together," she replied, "the hair is what I get for letting an old man with no fashion sense buy my hair dye."

"What are you doing here?" Kamoto asked. "The Emperor demanded that all those responsible for the Coup be punished! Munashi's men are searching the city for you!" He sat upright in his bed, glancing around as if he were afraid Dojicorp security would flood the room at any moment.

"That's fine with me," Kamiko said. "I've got a few words I'd like to share with Munashi, myself. Do you know where we can find him, cousin?"

"Munashi? Kamiko, wait!" Kamoto replied, holding up one hand. "I have something to tell you first. Do you remember the conversation we had before you left? Before you went off to try to stop your father?"

"Vaguely," she replied.

"We were talking about the old bloodsword legends, how the swords would drive people to do crazy things and how much it sounded like the tetsukansen," Kamoto said. "You were wondering if there could be another bloodsword."

"I remember," Kamiko answered.

"Well, I did some checking up on bloodsword lore, especially on the internet," Kamoto continued. "Do you know what I found? Nothing."

"How helpful," Kamiko said. "Where's Munashi?"

"Wait, that's not all," Kamoto replied, rising from the bed as he became more enveloped in his story. "There were no active links about anything except for the stories of the bloodsword that was destroyed by Kenichi. There were other references, but the pages had all been deleted, the servers were shut down about three years ago, right after the internet really started taking off. Someone has been trying to erase all records of the other bloodswords having existed. The only thing I managed to find was the title of one of the deleted pages, the names of the four bloodswords. Passion, Revenge, Judgment, and-"

"Ambition," Kamiko finished.

"You've heard of it?" Kamoto asked.

"I'm familiar with it," Kamiko answered. "It used to be in the Museum."

"Exactly," Kamoto said. "Ambition, or Yashin, was the name of a sword that was recently donated to the Otosan Uchi Museum of Natural History. It showed up only a few months ago, and was donated by Asahina Munashi, who purchased it from a group of investors in Medinaat-al-Salaam."

"Medinaat-al-Salaam?" Kamiko asked.

"Yes," Kamoto answered. "I checked up on them. They were a small family headed by a man named Kassir. This Kassir is listed as the head of a small religious group in the Allied Senpet Nation. In reality, he's the former leader of a small cabal of khadi, heartless sorcerors that have outposts everywhere from Medinaat-al-Salaam to the Ivory Kingdoms. He kept in contact with them for the last decade through a middle man, a Dojicorp employee named Daidoji Maseto."

"Maseto?" Kamiko asked. "He was Jinwa's replacement. He died during the Senpet Invasion!"

"I don't want to sound could, Kamiko, but you're probably lucky that he did die," Kamoto said. "Amaterasu only knows what Munashi was planning, planting that guy so close to you."

Kamiko just shook her head, folding her arms tightly against a sudden chill. She had first seen Yashin shortly after Maseto had been assigned to protect her. She remembered how charmed the yojimbo had been by the ancient blade, how he had encouraged her to look upon it. She wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been killed by the chance arrival of a group of Senpet soldiers.

"Anyway," Kamoto went on, "Munashi's been in correspondence with the khadi for years now, and he's been covering up most of the transactions through the normal business of maintaining the Fantastic Gardens. Doji Meda never questioned anything that Munashi purchased for the sake of the gardens. That would be heresy, since they're sacred and whatnot. He just assumed that the high priest of the Asahina, his childhood friend, would do the right thing and wouldn't cheat the company. Your father was an honorable man, Kamiko, but he was a poor judge of character."

"I know," Kamiko said. "He died cursing Munashi's name."

"That doesn't surprise me," Kamoto replied. "I hacked into Munashi's records. He's been funneling all sorts of high tech equipment and weapons components into the Gardens for the last decade. Munashi is behind the tetsukansen, Kamiko. He has to be. He has access to the Asahina libraries so he could learn about Yajinden if he wanted to. I've been trying to gather some kind of solid evidence, but I don't have anything yet."

"You've been busy, Kamoto," Kamiko said.

Kamoto nodded.

"Did you tell anyone about this?" Kamiko asked.

"Only you," Kamoto said. "I don't know who else to trust."

"Seems to be an growing problem in the world," she answered. "Well, you can trust me, and you can trust them. These are Iku, Hisae, Yoshio, and Chiyo." They nodded to him as she mentioned each of their names. "This is Doji Kamoto, my cousin and future Emerald Champion."

Kamoto laughed. "If Meda would have had his way, yes. Now, I'm not even in the running. The Crane are out of favor, especially the Cranes who were close to Meda. That means me since I'm his nephew. I'm nobody now, but I never really wanted to be Emerald Champion anyway. All that responsibility would just end up giving me a stroke. Just thinking about it gives me a headache. I'd rather just be an executive. You should be Emerald Champion, Kamiko. It would suit you much better."

"If I can ever get off the Imperial Guard's most wanted list, I'll present your suggestion to the Emperor," she replied. "Until then, you have to help me find Asahina Munashi."

"You're looking for that maniac?" Kamoto asked.

"Of course I am," Kamiko answered. "We've come here to kill him."

"Kill him?" Kamoto looked surprised. "You can't! The entire clan, everyone in the building, they're all completely loyal to him. After he returned the clan to the Emperor's good graces, they think he's Shinsei reborn!"

"After he provoked my father into starting the coup to begin with?" Kamiko snarled. "Munashi murdered my father more surely as Kitsune Maiko did."

"True, but you'll never convince them all of that," Kamoto said. "He's heavily guarded. If you escape him, you'll never leave the building alive."

"I'm prepared to deal with that," Kamiko said.

"You're serious," Kamoto answered.

"If we don't stop him now, no one will," she said. "He's poised to do the same thing to Kameru as he did to my father. Will you show us how to find him or not, Kamoto?"

The young Crane looked uncertain. He'd known Kamiko since they were very young. He considered her one of his best friends. In fact, she was one of his only real friends. That was the way things seemed to turn out in his clan, lots of acquaintances, but few friends. He wasn't about to send her off to die fighting Asahina Munashi. "You can't do this," he said in a final attempt to dissuade her.

"I'll do it if you help me or not," Kamiko replied stubbornly. "If you help us find him, we might have a chance of getting away alive. If you don't, then that's as good as killing us yourself, Kamoto. Will you help us?"

Kamoto glanced away, then back at his cousin's eyes. He nodded. "All right," Kamoto said. "All right, Kamiko. I'll help you find him."

Kaibutsu threw another stone off the end of the pier. It skipped a half dozen times on the surface of the water, then vanished into Golden Sun Bay.

"Rocks," the ogre said with a smile.

Sekkou glanced back at Kaibutsu, but said nothing. His long hair still flowed freely in the wind. He had not touched his trademark motorcycle helmet since their escape from the Machine, though Kaibutsu had carried it for him dutifully. It sat at the edge of the pier now, the sunrise reflecting brilliantly off its silver visor.

"Rocks are good," Kaibutsu said.

"If you say so, big guy," Sekkou replied. He sighed.

For several more minutes, both of them were quiet. Kaibutsu sat hunched at the end of the pier, kicking his feet back and forth like a large child. He looked up at Sekkou a few times, but didn't say anything. The ogre knew that Sekkou didn't like to talk, and he respected it. He didn't understand it, but he respected it. He simply waited. When his friend wanted to talk, he would.

"Kaibutsu," Sekkou said. "It's over."

Kaibutsu looked back over his meaty shoulder. "Over, Sekkou-sama?" he asked.

"It's over," Sekkou repeated. "Inago Isek is not coming. He's probably dead, the fool."

"Dead?" Kaibutsu asked.

Sekkou nodded quickly, then turned with a snarl on his face. "They're all dead, all of them. Inago delivered the Locust Clan to its enemies on a silver platter. And why? Just another piece in some stupid game. A pawn in the Stormbreaker's game of Armageddon. Damn the Day of Thunder and damn the Stormbreaker."

"Stormbreaker," Kaibutsu said, his tiny eyes growing unfocused. "Stormbreaker... bad."

"Brief but honest as always, my friend," Sekkou nodded with a crooked smile. "Stormbreaker bad."

"What do we do now, Sekkou-sama?" Kaibutsu asked, turning and resting one foot on the edge of the dock. He ground his large fangs nervously. "With no Locust, with no Machine, where do we go now?"

"We could go anywhere, Kaibutsu," Sekkou said. "You're a relative unknown, and no one has ever seen my face. With that mask on and your mouth shut, you do a good job of passing for a human. I could kick that helmet into the bay and no one would ever know the difference. No one would find us. We could go anywhere in Rokugan and start again. I still have money in private accounts. We could build a new Locust Clan. We have the knowledge. We have the means. We have the power."

"We go away?" Kaibutsu said sadly. "Leave Otosan Uchi?"

"Indeed," Sekkou replied. He stepped toward the discarded, cracked motorcycle helmet. His foot moved swiftly toward it, then stopped.

"But then the Stormbreaker will have won," Sekkou said, hands balling into fists. "Then, Inago will truly have been defeated, and everything the Locust stood for will be lost. Inago knew we would kill him, Kaibutsu, he was counting on it. He needed just enough time to tell us what he had become."

"Why?" Kaibutsu asked.

"Knowledge, Kaibutsu," Sekkou replied. "The first lesson of the Locust. Now that we know this Stormbreaker exists, and that he depends upon Pestilence technology, we can stop him."

"Know the Machine?" Kaibutsu said. The ogre became excited as he remembered the words from the Locust rallies.

"Yes, Kaibutsu," Sekkou said. "Know the Stormbreaker. Hate the Stormbreaker. And you know what comes after that."

Sekkou stooped, lifted his helmet off of the docks, and placed it back on his head. Turning, he marched back toward the city. Kaibutsu followed in his wake.

Doji Kamoto's computer flared to life. The young Crane drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for the machine to boot up. Kamiko and her Daidoji guards waited impatiently as the computer slowly brought itself up to speed. The machine was a top of the line Dojicorp model, so they didn't have to wait long, but any wait at all in their current situation was an unwelcome one. Kamoto pecked away at a few keys, opening up a schematic layout of the Dojicorp Building.

"The Dojicorp Welcome Center is a program we cooked up a few years for visiting executives," Kamoto said. "It lets someone who's just arrived type in the name of a particular employee or resident of the building, then the security systems run a search looking for that person and notify the visitor where he or she can be found. It also notifies the person being identified that they have a visitor. If I can circumvent that last part, we can use it to find where Munashi is right now and he won't be the wiser."

"Out of the way," Kamiko said, nodding at Kamoto's seat.

"Kamiko, I'm a competent programmer," he said. "I can do this as well as you can."

She rose one eyebrow at him. "You're kidding, right?" she asked.

"Fine, be that way," Kamoto grumbled, rising from his seat and moving out of the way.

Kamiko sat down quickly, her fingers dancing across the keyboard before she had even fully situated herself before the machine. The schematic twisted and vanished, the screen filling up with code. Kamiko's eyes flicked here and there across the code, finding, altering, securing, making the adjustments necessary to bend the machine to her will.

"You know I hear that R&D is working on some kind of virtual reality setup for programmers," Kamoto said. "Can you imagine stepping into the machine and doing this for yourself? Flying around in cyber-space? That would be great, huh?"

"It sure would," Kamiko said. "As long as a bunch of morons are out there using something like that as a crutch, I'll still be the best because I understand the code. A computer is a computer, Kamoto. It isn't a landscape, it isn't a video game, and it's not the real world. Trying to make it into something it's not is an insult to your own skill and the machine's capabilities. If you want to learn to do something, learn to do something, don't find a way around it or you'll always be weaker than the person with a brain."

Kamoto was quiet for a moment. "I guess that's a good point," he said dejectedly. "I thought it was a good idea, though."

"Maybe for a movie or something," Kamiko smiled. "There he is." She pointed to the screen, but her facial expression quickly changed. "Damn."

"What is it?" Kamoto asked.

"He's in the Fantastic Gardens," Daidoji Yoshio replied with a sigh. "That place is full of traps and maho."

"Maho?" Kamoto asked, surprised. "I knew he's been hiding weapons in there, but you really think he's practicing maho in there? It's sacred!"

"Nothing's sacred to Asahina Munashi," Kamiko replied. "A very reliable source tried to break into the Gardens recently, and was lucky to escape with his life. He has zombies, oni, traps, and the Fortunes know what else. We can't fight him in there."

"That could be tricky," Kamoto said. "His duties rarely demand he leave the Gardens. He may be in there for days."

"Hmm," she replied. She typed away at the keys for a few more moments. A list of names soon appeared on the screen.

"What's that?" Chiyo asked, leaning over Kamiko's shoulder and trying to assimilate even one tenth of the hacker artistry she was working upon the Dojicorp mainframe.

"A list of people who have used the Welcome Center to locate Munashi within the last few months," she replied. She sighed. "Mostly, it looks like it the only one who ever looked for him was my father. Nobody... wait. There we go. That's how we'll get him out of the Gardens." She typed rapidly on the keys again. Several different screens of information blurred past as Kamiko worked her way here and there to find what she needed, accessing security video files, audio recordings, and security system overrides.

"What are you doing?" Kamoto asked. He glanced from the keys to the screen to her face, blinded by his cousin's speed and technical skill.

Kamiko smiled. "I just told Munashi that he has a visitor," she said. "Come on, it's time to set up an ambush." She rose, turning off the computer with a flick of the mouse.

"Kamiko, wait," Kamoto said, grabbing his cousin's arm with one hand. "This doesn't change the fact that the guards are still loyal to Munashi. If you do kill him, how do you plan to escape?"

"Escape was never a necessary part of the equation," Kamiko said seriously. "I'm still a criminal and a traitor, Kamoto. I killed the Jade Champion, remember? We'll do our best to escape, but that's not our primary objective."

"But who will lead the Crane after Munashi is gone?" Kamoto asked.

"Meda's next closest relative," Kamiko said with a small smile.

Kamoto blinked. "But, that's--"

"Lead the Crane with honor," Kamiko said, leaning forward and kissing her cousin on the forehead. "And pray for me."

Kamiko and the Daidoji turned and quietly stalked out of Kamoto's apartment, leaving the young Crane sitting stunned before his computer.

Daimyo of the Crane?

Him?

He felt another headache coming on.

Munashi frowned, shaking his head in complete irritation. "Apparently Osano-wo's legendary resistance to pain has not been diluted by intervening generations, Lord Yoritomo."

Kameru looked up and tried to smile, though his face still throbbed with pain from the porcelain mask. "I'm sorry, Munashi," he said. "Did you want something?"

The door of the examination room opened and Munashi's technician peered in, looking curiously at his master.

"Suro, can't you see that I am busy?" Munashi snarled. "Go sharpen my scalpels or something."

"Munashi-sama," the technician said quietly. "This is quite urgent."

Munashi sighed and turned back to Kameru. "Being the villain is such busy work," he apologized to the bound Emperor. "If you'll excuse me, Lord Yoritomo, I shall return in just a few moments." The tsukai stood, smiled, and turned out the lights.

Munashi followed Suro into the hallway, securing the heavy door behind him so that his captive would not overhear. He turned, arms folded in his robes, quietly waiting for Suro's news.

"Munashi-sama," Suro said quickly. "Princess Ryosei just attempted to reach you via radio."

"And you did not answer, as I instructed you," Munashi replied.

"Of course," Suro replied. "But our spies near the Palace have reported that she is on her way to Dojicorp."

"Dojicorp?" Munashi asked, eyes widening.

"Koan told her you took her brother for safekeeping," Suro said.

"Koan, you moron," Munashi sighed. "Oh, well, we shall make the best of it. When she arrives, stall her for as long as possible."

"That may be difficult, Munashi-sama," Suro replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Munashi frowned even more deeply. Suro was a calm, level-headed sort of person, not the sort to show such emotion. "What is wrong, Suro?" he asked.

"Ryosei comes not alone but at the head of an army," the technician replied. "The Imperial Guard, the Shinjo, and the Battle Maidens accompany her."

Munashi chuckled. "Impressive," he said. "I always knew that waif had more steel in her than her brother. No matter, by the time she arrives, all will be well."

"The Emperor is broken?" Suro asked eagerly.

Munashi shook his head. "Not yet," he replied. "He needs to take the final step. I have weakened him sufficiently, however. All I need is an appropriate lever and I can pry the final obstacle loose, that useless scrap of honor he still clings to. How much time do we have, Suro?"

"The roads present difficult passage after the Locust riots," Suro said. "We have perhaps forty minutes at best."

"By Fu Leng I love working on a deadline," Munashi said with a small shake of his head. "I feel that one's creativity is deepened by necessity, don't you? Well, keep me posted, Suro."

The technician bowed and quickly darted off through the halls of Munashi's laboratories. Munashi waited a few moments in the hallway alone, silently reflecting upon his choices, allowing the Emperor to stew in the darkness a bit longer before he returned. As he pushed open the door, he forced back a sneer. The Emperor was still watching the door with a quiet, focused gaze. Munashi had worked purposefully to leave no physical evidence of his torture, and the clarity and determination on his prisoner's face showed that he had made little mental progress either.

"Your sister is coming," Munashi said as he closed the door. "It seems she is quite worried about you."

"Ryosei?" Kameru said.

Munashi nodded. "You know, of course, that with a single spell I could summon enough kansen through your mask that you would be overwhelmed. Your will would no longer be your own. You would be a creature of Jigoku, forever."

"So do it," Kameru said. "I'm sick of your preening, you smug son of a bitch. If you really have the power to destroy me, stop talking and do it. I promise you that if I got out of here, I wouldn't hesitate for a second before I did the same to you, old man."

Munashi laughed. "I do not doubt your sincerity, but I am not so easy to kill as you may believe. Many men have tried." He sat down and looked up at the ceiling, an amused smile spreading across his face. "Perhaps you have heard this old Amijdal rhyme? I have modified it somewhat...

"Munashi-sama, Munashi-sama, how does your garden grow? With the blood of the brave and the foolish, My enemies shall reap what they sow."

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said, looking back at Kameru. "The rhyme is a little forced, but I like it. Oh, my secret has been discovered many times over the decades. It's very hard to sweep so much murder and blood sacrifice under the rug. However, all of my enemies come to the Garden sooner or later, and stay there. That is where you are now, my friend. When your sister comes looking for you, shall I summon the undead to tear her limb from limb? Shall I have the kansen-mutated fungus on the eastern edge tear away her lungs with toxic spores? Or perhaps I shall just summon a cage of bamboo to hold her in place. Bamboo grows quickly, you know, even without magical assistance. Imagine your sister's pretty young body, flesh torn slowly asunder as the wooden shoots grow through her by hours. Fiendish, no?"

The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "You're bluffing," he said. "You're afraid of her. I can see it in your eyes."

Munashi sighed. "Assume what you will," he said. "We shall see what happens." He stood, turned, and left the chamber once more, turning off the lights and returning the Emperor of Rokugan to total darkness as the heavy door thundered shut.

Munashi cursed under his breath. He could sense Kameru's mind and body slowly being subverted by the power of the mask, but that wasn't enough. His force of will was still intact, and that, unfortunately, was just the part that he needed. Oh, the Stormbreaker would be served well enough once he succumbed to the sword and mask, but Munashi's own plans required something more, and Lord Yoritomo didn't seem to be crumbling. He had little time left.

Damn. It looked like he would have to return, flood the Porcelain Mask with maho, and be done with it. Such a loss. It had all been so perfect.

"Asahina Munashi," said a clear voice through a small speaker on the wall.

Munashi turned, curious. It was the Dojicorp Welcome Center, the ever-friendly feminine computer voice that annoyed the denizens of Dojicorp on a regular basis. "Speak," he ordered the machine.

"You have a visitor," the machine replied. "A Heichi Tetsugi awaits you in the lobby, on a matter of great urgency."

"Tetsugi?" Munashi said. "Again?"

Something was wrong here. He moved closer to the screen beside the speaker and pressed his hand to the sensor panel. "Show me," he said.

The screen flickered, showing a security camera image of the Boar magistrate standing in the lobby, looking somewhat irritated. Sure enough, it looked genuine. Munashi shook his head. Somehow, it didn't feel right. Something was wrong here. Surely the Boar wouldn't return to taunt him again so soon, and surely he wouldn't think that Munashi was enough of a fool to meet him on his own terms, outside of the Gardens? There was something more here.

"Too clever," he mumbled to himself, gazing over the image on the screen. "Too complete." The image could be from one of Tetsugi's earlier visits, dredged up from the security files, but that was unlikely. The computers weren't designed to work that way when they weren't specifically requested to, and the computers of the Dojicorp mainframe were the very best in all of the Empire. No one could reroute their actions without the proper clearance, and Munashi's technicians were the only ones who currently were allowed such privileges. The very idea that anyone could hack in and-

Munashi froze in mid-thought.

Of course.

It was her.

Now he had his lever.

He hurried out of the hidden labs back into the Garden itself, a wide smile spreading across his ancient face. A man in a blue t-shirt and loose-fitting fatigues sat at a table nearby, staring blankly at the sever burns on his left arm.

"Eien?" Munashi called out gently.

The revenant looked up automatically. "How may I serve you, Munashi-sama?" he asked.

"There is someone in the building," he said. "Someone who is looking for me. I want you to find this person. I want you to bring them to me alive."

"Yes, Munashi-sama," Eien replied, standing immediately. "Who do I search for?"

"Doji Kamiko," Munashi replied. "If anyone fights at her side, kill them, but I need her alive. Quickly now, Eien. There's no time to lose."

Eien hesitated for the briefest of moments. "Yes," Munashi-sama," he said, and ran off across the garden to fetch his weapons.

Munashi sat at the table, steepling his fingers as he hummed gently to himself. And to think. He had been so ready to give up on his little slice of the Day of Thunder. It was amazing how things came together when you remained focused on your goals. Surely, the Fortunes must be watching over him.

Or, at least, they would be, if Munashi still believed they had any power over him.

Bayushi's Labyrinth was quiet. Deep in the caves of the Scorpion Quarter, the park was untouched by the rioting Locust Clan mobs. Out of the range of the Pestilence bombs and out running of independent generators, Bayushi Oroki's domain barely noticed the chaos erupting in the city above. Oroki leaned back in his chair, sighing in exhaustion. The Migi-Hidari lay on the table nearby, brutal black metal gleaming despite the dim light in the room. His head throbbed when he looked upon them. His heart went cold and his muscles burned. He quickly turned his gaze back towards the many monitor screens that covered the walls. Several news channels related reports of the city-wide destruction, KTSU being the notable exception.

Bayushi Zou entered the room and closed the door, a silent presence awaiting his master's recognition.

"Report," Oroki said, not turning to face the Enforcer.

"The War Machine is in perfect condition," he replied. "The battle with the Oracle of Fire did no damage."

Oroki nodded. "Well, that's positive I suppose."

Zou nodded, remaining where he stood and awaiting his master's dismissal. After years of serving Oroki, he had learned to gauge his master's moods. Right now, Oroki wanted to talk. He didn't want to converse, nor did he have any desire to hear what Zou had to say. He just wanted to talk, to get something off his mind, and wanted someone to stand there and hear him. So Zou waited.

"It's odd, don't you think?" Oroki asked.

Zou simply waited.

"Odd that only one of the Oracles would attack, while the Stormbreaker makes a bid for power in the city above."

"The Stormbreaker?" Zou asked.

"Yes," Oroki replied. "Tsuruchi Kyo made mention of him a few moments before transforming into an oni and trying to murder me. Apparently he's trying to destroy the Seven Thunders. He must have a great amount of supernatural power if he can summon up that thing that was lurking in the labyrinth and possessed the Wasp."

Zou's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "This Stormbreaker is the one responsible for my injuries?" he asked.

Oroki nodded. "According to the Wasp, if you give him any credit for being truthful. That maniac Inago mentioned him as well, while he was pirating the city's broadcasts. Either this Stormbreaker has a great amount of power or an impeccable ability for drawing lunatics to himself. I'm assuming it's the former, since the latter has no effect upon me."

"And you think that the Stormbreaker is connected to the Oracles?" Zou asked.

"Call it a hunch," Oroki replied. "But two forces connected to Jigoku, which the Stormbreaker must be if he could command that oni, could hardly occupy the city and be unaware of one another. Especially the Dark Oracles. It is their duty to be aware of such things. If a tsukai were working against the Day of Thunder and had the Captain of the Guard in his organization, surely they would be aware of them."

Zou nodded, and waited silently.

"And this is what bothers me," Oroki went on after several moments. He drew a small leather bag from his jacket pocket and considered it quietly. "The shard of the Oni's Eye, the artifact we're protecting from the Oracles. It can give its user limitless knowledge if he knows how to use it, and for a Dark Oracle that translates to limitless power. Why, with the city in chaos, would the Oracles not seek to take the Eye and be done with it? Why?"

Zou simply waited. He was not meant to answer this question, only to wait while Oroki figured it out for himself.

"I see only three possibilities," Oroki said, tucking the bag back into his jacket. Thus far, for reasons of his own, he had resisted all temptations to use or even look upon the Eye. "First, that the other Oracles have all been slain and are no longer a threat. I must discard this as wishful thinking. Even if they are dead, I cannot afford to assume such until I have conclusive evidence. Too much rides upon the protection of the Eye." He brooded quietly again.

Zou waited.

"Next, there is always the chance that they cannot find me," Oroki said. "From the knowledge the kolat have gathered on the Oracles, this is also very likely impossible. Nothing less than killing all of the current Oracles and sealing the bag once more with magic will throw them off the trail." Oroki watched the monitors quietly for a while once more. His eyes looked hesitant, as if he were unwilling to voice his third suspicion.

Zou waited.

"Last," he said. "There is the chance that the Eye is simply not important enough to them to come after it, that whatever the Stormbreaker's mission is holds greater sway over their actions." He reached up and removed his mask, turning to Zou with a pale, tired face. "Do you realize what that implies, Zou?"

Zou shook his head.

"It implies that the Oracles have a greater goal than the Eye," Oroki answered, "something that overrides their actions more than absolute power. That's inconceivable. What could possibly demand their attention?"

Zou shrugged. "Is it important?" he asked. "We should take advantage of their mistake. Prepare whatever traps and countermeasures that we can while they are distracted."

"A logical suggestion," Oroki said. "However, this is not the proper environment for waiting. With the information that we know, the lack of an attack by the Dark Oracles suggests only one other possible outcome. Do you know what that is?"

Zou shook his head.

"The Day of Thunder," Oroki said. "It's coming, and soon."

Zou blinked. "You're not serious?" he asked. "It's just a legend, Oroki-sama. All the end of millennium prophecies and predictions, they're nothing. It's all myth, isn't it?"

Oroki shook his head. "Zou, my friend. Don't tell me you can live in a world with prophets like Saigo, wizards like Isawa, and monsters like Akeru and not believe that there's a greater power somewhere?" He chuckled. "In a world like Rokugan, men of reason like you and I can't help but believe in magic."

Zou nodded. "When you put it that way, I see your point. You truly believe that a Day of Thunder is coming?"

Oroki turned back toward the screens. "Yes," he said. "Why else would the Stormbreaker want to kill the Seven Thunders? Why else would the Oracles have greater tasks to see to than attaining the Oni's Eye? They're working toward a higher purpose, Zou. They're working toward armageddon."

Zou cleared his throat nervously. It made too much sense. "The Day of Thunder?" he said. "What do we do? What does this have to do with us?"

Oroki picked up his mask, flipping it over between his fingers and gazing into the empty eyes. "It has everything to do with us, Zou," he replied. "This is my world. I have built myself up from nothing. I will spit my last drop of blood into Jigoku cursing its existence before I allow it to take away what I have built. We must go forth from the Labyrinth, Zou, find this Stormbreaker, and kill him."

"Do you know who he is?" Zou asked.

"No," Oroki said. "But I can't imagine the mystery will be hard to solve. A man is defined by his enemies. By looking upon his foes, we shall discover his identity in short order." Oroki stood, placing the mask upon his face. He quickly lifted the two black pistols in either hand, gazing at them with a pained expression for several moments before placing them in the holsters within his jacket.

"So where will we go?" Zou asked. "Who will we find?"

Oroki's smiled behind his mask. "Kitsuki Hatsu, of course. The Thunder."

"Kitsuki Hatsu is dead," Zou replied. He looked at his master's confident expression for several moments, then began to doubt himself. "Isn't he? You said he was dead."

"I thought he was," Oroki said. "Let's just say I've been doing some research in the time intervening. Research on such things as the lost Dragons and the power of their mystical tattoos."

"They can restore the dead?" Zou asked.

"The recently dead, yes," Oroki replied. "That, and very much more. Oh, I've learned much about the so-called lost clan of the Dragon. And father laughed at my library. Now, come, Zou. We have a dead Dragon to find, and if I know Kitsuki Hatsu, it is unlikely he shall make the search easy."

Oroki exited the chamber, Zou following.

"I just need one more thing from you, Lord Yoritomo," Munashi said, stepping into the examination chamber with his usual smug smile.

"Go to Jigoku," Kameru growled. His voice sounded distorted and metallic, hardly his own.

"Oh, I've been there," Munashi said. He reached up and pulled away the cotton patch that covered his left eye. The eye behind it was malformed and huge, swirling with red blood and yellow pus. The central pupil was jet black, with no iris whatsoever. It seemed to pulse, growing and shrinking with the beat of Munashi's heart. Kameru's stomach turned.

"What's wrong, Kameru?" Munashi asked in a mocking tone. "If I may call you by your child's name, that is. I assume I have such a luxury, since we know each other so well. Are you disgusted by my deformity? By the symbol of the heritage that is mine? You should not be. The two of us are brothers now, linked by the blood of Fu Leng, strongest of all the kami. Cease this hopeless struggle. Embrace your nature. You could be the strongest Emperor that ever lived, the blood of eight kami in your veins! If only you would not struggle against what you are not."

"And you think that this is natural?" Kameru said with a laugh. "Enslaving myself to the will of cursed sword and a devil's mask?"

Munashi sighed. "Don't think of them as shackles," the old priest said. "Think of them as guides. They empower you. They free you. They help you to see the world as it truly is. Now, help me, Lord Yoritomo."

"Help you?" Kameru looked up with a fierce scowl. "What do you expect me to do for you, you bastard? After what you've done to me?"

"I want you to give me your name," Munashi said. "Of your own free will. Of course, if you don't, I'll have to torture you some more."

"Die," Kameru said, hanging his head again.

Munashi sighed again. "I thought you might be that way and, sadly, you have proven yourself to be quite resistant to torture. I suppose I'll have to resort to more drastic measures." Munashi drew a small cellular phone from his robes and held it to his mouth. "Eien, come in here."

The door to the chamber opened and a large man in the blue plasteel armor of a Daidoji soldier entered the room. His blue eyes were dead, and his face was covered in blood. A woman lay limp in his arms, armor stained with blood.

"Son of Storms," Kameru breathed, his eyes widening.

The woman was Doji Kamiko.

"Is she alive?" Kameru asked quickly.

"Yes," Munashi said. "The blood is not her own, but that of the fools who stood with her, hoping to sneak into my stronghold undetected and kill me. A brave girl. Someone like her only comes along once a millennium, wouldn't you say?"

"Let her go," Kameru snarled.

Munashi laughed. "I don't think that's going to happen," he replied. Munashi lifted a long scalpel from the table at Kameru's side, gazing into its depths with his deformed eye.

Munashi smiled. "Do you really think for an instant that I won't do it?" he asked.

"You'll kill her anyway," the Emperor replied.

"Not necessarily," Munashi shrugged. "With her father dead and all of her supporters eliminated, she's no particular threat to me. I have plenty of prisons here in the Garden, all well hidden and protected. She could live a long life in one of those, well cared for by my technicians. I am a man of my word, Lord Yoritomo. Accede to my demands and I will see that she remains alive."

Kameru glanced from Kamiko to Munashi. His head buzzed from the power of the Mask and the bloodsword. He couldn't think clearly.

"Or, I could kill her right now," Munashi said. "What will your answer be, Lord Yoritomo? Will you give me your name to save her life?" Munashi reached toward Kamiko with the scalpel, resting the tip of the blade on the young girl's throat.

"Kamiko," Kameru moaned.

"This is your last chance, Kameru," Munashi hissed. "This is your last chance not to begin our relationship on a note of defiance. You do not want to become my enemy, boy. Give me your name."

"Give me your name."

Jack hauled himself onto the sand by his fingertips. The young monk gasped for breath, coughing up the foul water of the bay. Karasu fluttered down to the sand nearby. The bird's sharp eyes were everywhere, looking for any sign of danger. Confident in his companion's protection, Jack laid down on the sand for a moment to catch his breath.

His mother had been right. Jigoku recognized Shinsei, and hated him. Jack was Shinsei now, and all the forces of hell were arrayed to bring about his destruction. The trail of darkness he had followed to Otosan Uchi was no accident, no mistake of his foes. It was not a chance for him to undo the Day of Thunder before it could begin.

It was bait. Bait for a young Shinsei, too immature and inexperienced to recognize yet how to properly fulfill his duties. What a fool he had been! It had all been a trap, and he had walked directly into it!

Enough rest, and enough berating himself. The swim had been long and draining. He still wasn't sure how he survived; he was frozen to the bone. It was unlikely he had arrived back at the shore before Yotogi's ship had returned. He would have to be careful. He would have to flee the city as rapidly as possible.

Jack glanced around quickly. He wasn't familiar with the city, but this certainly didn't look like any part of the bay he'd seen before. The buildings around here were covered in the dark shadows of the highways above. It seemed a very dark and lonely place. He could sense that something had happened here, long ago. The spirits were still afraid of this place.

Jack steeled himself and stepped forward into the darkened neighborhood. He saw few people here, and those that he did see quickly shuffled away into alleys or ducked through open doorways. The entire neighborhood seemed drained of life, drained of hope. Karasu lighted on Jack's shoulder, huddling close to the side of the young monk's face.

A low moan seemed to roll through the streets, the sound of vehicles rumbling over the streets above. The buildings seemed gray and washed out from the eternal lack of light. Jack walked more quickly. He did not like the feel of this place.

"Do you not like your home, Hoshi Jack?" called out a voice.

Jack looked around fearfully, dropping into a martial stance. Karasu gave a sharp cry. "Who are you?" he shouted defiantly. "I demand that you face me!"

"Of course," came the reply. The center of the street seemed to buckle, and a manhole cover popped free and rolled off into an alley. Clouds of inky darkness rolled up from the depths of the streets, revealing a large, serpentine face. The creature rose up from the surface, effortlessly tearing aside the cement to make room for his passage. Tentacles with cobra heads bobbed and swayed all around him, and his skin oozed with black sores and puckered white scars. A few people still remaining on the streets screamed and ran when they saw the beast, but it paid them no mind, eyes fixed hypnotically on Hoshi Jack. Jack found the strength drained from his legs. He could not move, could not run, could not speak.

"This place is very close to Jigoku," the creature said. "A great temple once stood where we are now. At first, it was the Imperial Cemetery, but later it was renamed the Temple of Blood, and destroyed. It was here that Iuchiban and his Bloodspeakers animated the dead of Otosan Uchi in a brutal coup against the living. Since Iuchiban was defeated, the connection to the darker realms has lain dormant. I have been working to rekindle this neighborhood's full potential. I am the Kashrak, chief tsukai to the late Oni Lord Akuma. It is a pleasure to meet you, Shinsei." The creature bowed.

Jack found himself entranced by the creature's voice. A sudden cry snapped him back in control of himself as Karasu lunged into the air, flying directly at the reptilian monster. The creature gestured vaguely with one hand and a sphere of darkness wrapped about the crow in mid-flight. Karasu's final cry was muffled. The sphere folded in on itself and disappeared. Karasu was no more.

"What have you done?" Jack demanded, moving a step backward. "What have you done with Karasu?" "Ah, poor Shinsei," the Kashrak replied. "Ever the antagonist. You don't realize the gift I hope to give you. Jigoku is a wondrous place, full of strange magic and new ideas. It made a new person of me. It made a god out of Fu Leng. Now, let us see what it will make out of you."

Jack turned to run, but it was too late. Kashrak summoned forth his maho once more, drawing upon his own dark powers and those that lay within the stones of Iuchiban's fallen temple.

In an instant, an entire block of the city vanished into Jigoku. Oni, goblins, and dark creatures of every variety spilled out into the city, killing everything in their path and leaving only carnage in their wake. The Crab Clan, fortunately, arrived on the scene in record time, fighting against the dark creatures, containing them to a small neighborhood and cordoning off the area. The Crab never knew who or what had been the source of the outbreak.

There was never any sign that a young monk named Hoshi Jack had ever existed, nor any reason to look for him.

"I have come to find my brother," Ryosei shouted in the face of the Crane guard. "I will not leave without him. Tell Asahina Munashi that he has exactly ten seconds before the Mantis, Wasp, Phoenix, Unicorn, and Lion enter Dojicorp to find the Emperor with or without Lord Asahina's permission!"

The Crane soldier swallowed hard as he looked down the long line of Imperial Guardsmen, Isawa shugenja, Matsu bushi, Shinjo magistrates, and Otaku Battle Maidens that surrounded the Dojicorp Building. He lifted up his hand-held radio for another try. "Hello, Control, this is Ground. The Imperial Princess is out here and she absolutely insists that we let her inside. Have you any word from Munashi-sama yet?"

"No word, Ground," came the reply. "Hold your position."

The Crane shrugged at the princess. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but-"

"Kita," Ryosei said simply.

With a swift thud, the Crane lay upon the ground, holding his face in pain. Daikua Kita rubbed her fist in satisfaction. The other Crane guardsmen began to withdraw slowly. "All of you," Ryosei shouted to them. "We are here to find my brother, not to kill Cranes. Stay out of our way, and no harm will come to you. Help us find him, and you will be well rewarded. Now, all those who are still loyal to the Son of Storms, follow me."

The assembled armies of Otosan Uchi marched into the great lobby of Dojicorp. Not surprisingly, many of the Cranes decided to march along with them. Those that didn't simply moved as close to the walls as possible, watching the parade with fearful trepidation. The soldiers and magistrates split into several groups to cover all of Dojicorp's stairwells and elevators. Ryosei moved to the central elevator, her personal guard flanking her on all sides.

"Katsunan-san," Ryosei said, gesturing to Shinjo Katsunan. "Hold the lobby with the Shinjo and guard these elevators. No one leaves this building until I return." She turned and marched toward the nearest stairwell.

"Ryosei?" Kita said. "You aren't taking the elevator? Surely it's the quickest way-"

"And the most dangerous," Ryosei replied. "I'm not going to allow myself to be split from my troops in a possibly hostile situation. We take Dojicorp floor by floor, and we take it by the stairs."

Kita nodded, inwardly impressed by the keen tactical mind hidden beneath the Imperial Princess' soft exterior. She was every bit her father's daughter.

A piercing bell sounded across the lobby, as the central elevators opened. Ryosei turned to see the Shinjo all train their weapons upon the doors, then suddenly lower them. As one, they all fell into a deep bow.

Asahina Munashi emerged from the elevator, a bemused smile on his face. He turned and bowed his head slightly. "My princess," he said. "It is good to see you at last."

"What's going on here, Munashi?" Ryosei demanded, looking past the old priest into the elevator. She gasped.

A short man in dark green armor stepped out into the lobby, steadying two katanas upon his belt. A gasp rippled through the crowd, and all present bowed deeply as thunder rumbled overhead. He looked tired, his mempo was cracked, but it was definitely him. Kameru, Emperor Yoritomo VII, her brother. Ryosei ran forward to embrace him, but stopped short.

Something was different about him, something in his eyes. For some reason, she wished Saigo were here.

"Ryosei," Kameru said, his voice echoing within his mempo. "We have missed you."

"How comforting it must be to have a sister who cares so," Munashi said with a warm smile. "Do you not think so, my lord."

"Without question, my friend," Kameru replied. "Now. Let us return to the Palace. Our Diamond Empire awaits."

TO BE CONTINUED